I posted this story on another FB page and several people asked me to re-post it on my page and since I dont have the technical savvy to do that, Ill just start over...bear with me. :-) Fifty years ago, tomorrow morning, November 22, I woke up and headed off to school--excited about the day that was going to unfold. I was a senior in high school and our school was going to be doing their first performance of the annual school musical. That particular year we were doing Lil Abner, based on the Al Capp comic strip. I had one of the lead roles--Marryin Sam, a part made famous by Stubby Kaye. It was a show that mocked our government, but all in good fun. I was in my dressing room, having last minute work done on my costume. At around 1:30, a half hour before curtain, an announcement came over the school P.A. system saying that President Kennedy had been shot. I thought I must have miss heard the announcement or that perhaps someone was playing a sick joke. I rushed up to the choir room, where the cast was to meet before the show. Unfortunately, by the time I reached the choir room the news had gone from bad to worse and everyone was in shock when it was confirmed that the President had died. It was fifteen minutes before the show was supposed to begin. The auditorium was full. Our director told us we needed to make a choice. We could cancel the performance OR we could vote to go on. After a few minutes of discussion, we voted. The decision was made that we would perform. The thinking was that, perhaps for a couple of hours, we MIGHT provide folks with some relief from the horrible news. To this day Im not sure if it was the right decision or not, but it felt right at the time. I felt an impulse to try to rally the cast, so I got everyone to join me as we sang one of the shows more upbeat songs. While I wouldnt call it fun, it did seem to lift some of the pall that had enveloped the room. We could hear the orchestra begin to play the overture and we all took our places. The show that followed was an almost surreal experience. I remember looking into the audience (normally a big no, no) and seeing my high school history teacher on the front row, to the right. He wasnt a particularly good teacher, but he was a kind and compassionate man. He was sobbing. I felt as though I had to somehow direct all of my energy toward him. I wanted to help HIM. One song and scene after another followed along. Somehow we seemed to be getting through the show. Suddenly the introduction began for one of the songs I had to sing. The title of the song was: The Countrys In The Very Best of Hands. I remember thinking (or feeling), oh my god! I cant sing this song. I actually thought I was going to pass out. I noticed that other folks on stage, with me, seemed equally stunned by what we were about to attempt. A second thought jumped in my head: Ive got to do this...for everyone. Amazingly, with the support of EVERYONE around me, I was able to get through the song and the rest of the show. As I came out for curtain calls at the end of the show, I didnt notice the applause from the audience. I just wanted to find my history teacher, to see how he was doing. He was smiling. Finally I heard applause, but it wasnt coming from the audience. It was coming from my class mates behind me and from the folks in the orchestra pit. At that point, I lost it. That day was probably one of the single most painful and difficult days of my life. But I was also given a great gift, because it was that day that I saw the potential theatre (and indeed all art) had to transform lives--even if only for a little while. So, for any of my old classmates out there (who were with me that day), thank you. And to ALL of my artist friends out there who dedicate themselves to making a difference in the world, even through the most painful of times, thank you. Keep doing what you do.
Posted on: Fri, 22 Nov 2013 00:36:12 +0000
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