The One About the Drama Couch.... Meet Me in St. Louis Memories...
Pictured below are the original 1976 cast members of Bevier's production of Meet Me in St. Louis. It was my first year teaching... Today these young people are my friends, the successful parents and grandparents of my students....... all grown up. Sadly, four of these amazing young people have passed away...
Hey, since it's my blog, I guess I can do something totally indulgent. I'm going to write about some of the most memorable and important events that happened to me as a teacher. In no particular order... and I plan to leave out a few for good measure.
The one that immediately comes to mind is the tale of my intrepid Drama Club in the Spring of 1976... I was a totally new teacher and a complete novice to Drama in any form. Not only had I never directed a play, studied Drama in college... I had been in only a few little plays in elementary... I was GREEN. Luckily I ran into the most agreeable, talented, cooperative group of young people imaginable. We produced a two night stand of "Meet Me in St. Louis." Starting from scratch, we built the "flats" (which is the technical name for the background, and I did not even know this.)... The kids taught me to paint them in bright colors, something never imagined at home decor... We faithfully rehearsed the huge cast, juggling practice schedules with a less than cooperative Coach and a few glitches here and there...
But we had no furniture. Finally a couple of teen actors announced they knew a likely spot to score a couch for the event... They were privy to info on an abandoned home. True to my spirit, I was all in. We headed out to the abandoned house without a thought to the legality of "tresspassing." The house still stays in my memory.. I had heard of the RAPTURE in the Bible, when all souls just transport to Heaven, leaving everything on earth as it is... This house was just that way. Even though the roof was almost gone, and the floors had been deteriorated to simple beams, the daily living of the place was evident. Books were open, the cabinets were stocked. China stayed in the cupboards, and glasses lay on the table by a crumpled yellow newspaper...
I and my flock of Thespian Trespassers made careful trips, stepping widely across the beams and peering into the abyss of the basement below... Did ideas and threats of lawsuits and even imminent danger appear to me? Naw... not so much. We finally saw "IT," a beautiful leather couch with carved arms and back...
My brain finally kicked in. We couldn't take that couch without permission. (Well, my brain kicked in partially...) I sent the same two students who had located this home to ask permission from the total strangers who had abandoned it. I had no idea who these people were or where they now lived. The rest of us simply sat in the skeletal front room of that home and waited for the verdict. The two came back beaming. They said it was fine. "All systems were GO." So my troupe and I hauled the couch to the back of my truck, and the students all piled on it in the back. We sat on that couch all the way through our town and the five-mile ride to the next... We even took the pickup with the couch and students on a wild ride through the downtown "block" -----whooping and hollering with joy, youth, .... and stupidity, actually.
Then we "sunk" about $25 or more in refinishing supplies, leather soap, etc., and we proceeded to restore the beautiful leather and clean/refinish the gorgeous carving... We worked tirelessly, but slowly the old couch breathed again, and we were so proud. Naturally I posted a huge THANK YOU to that family, calling them by name, in the bulletin for our event.
First Night, a Friday, arrived.. the play was a roaring success. A well-meaning parent who had attended the play saw the "family" in town on early Saturday and naturally remarked to them what a nice gesture it had been to "lend the Drama Class their couch".. Um... well, the truth has never come out. I don't know if the two I sent, in fact. asked and were told no or didn't bother to ask because they were aware of the private nature of this couple. Ultimately bear in mind the family had a reputation that anyone in town would have known NOT to bother... They were NOT the usual, benevolent, social, community retirees-- ready to help. I have no idea what their story was.. I do understand their total and absolute right to be MAD AS .....you know what.
Early Saturday morning I received a phone call from my superintendent, John R. Amedei, a beloved Italian gentleman who will forever hold my utmost respect and love... He began the phone call with and excited voice... then he began shouting and then.... he got louder. Evidently the family who owned the couch were there at his home threatening to call the police if the couch didn't get put back PRONTO.. As in--- I had exactly thirty minutes to get my pickup, drive to Bevier, load the couch, and return it to the decaying, unfortunate home...
For the life of me, I can't remember doing that, but it got done... and yhen we used a completely horrible couch propped up on brickbats for the second night's performance. We found that second couch in the basement of the school, covered in soot and ash... glaringly an orange and green plaid.... and full of holes, mouse poop, and the smoke and stories of an elderly janitor who had supposedly died near or on that couch...
And nothing happened more. I didn't yell or discipline the kids. My superintendent spoke no more of it to me. The family simply slipped back into their state of preferred oblivion.... And I lived to tell the tale...
Hey, since it's my blog, I guess I can do something totally indulgent. I'm going to write about some of the most memorable and important events that happened to me as a teacher. In no particular order... and I plan to leave out a few for good measure.
The one that immediately comes to mind is the tale of my intrepid Drama Club in the Spring of 1976... I was a totally new teacher and a complete novice to Drama in any form. Not only had I never directed a play, studied Drama in college... I had been in only a few little plays in elementary... I was GREEN. Luckily I ran into the most agreeable, talented, cooperative group of young people imaginable. We produced a two night stand of "Meet Me in St. Louis." Starting from scratch, we built the "flats" (which is the technical name for the background, and I did not even know this.)... The kids taught me to paint them in bright colors, something never imagined at home decor... We faithfully rehearsed the huge cast, juggling practice schedules with a less than cooperative Coach and a few glitches here and there...
But we had no furniture. Finally a couple of teen actors announced they knew a likely spot to score a couch for the event... They were privy to info on an abandoned home. True to my spirit, I was all in. We headed out to the abandoned house without a thought to the legality of "tresspassing." The house still stays in my memory.. I had heard of the RAPTURE in the Bible, when all souls just transport to Heaven, leaving everything on earth as it is... This house was just that way. Even though the roof was almost gone, and the floors had been deteriorated to simple beams, the daily living of the place was evident. Books were open, the cabinets were stocked. China stayed in the cupboards, and glasses lay on the table by a crumpled yellow newspaper...
I and my flock of Thespian Trespassers made careful trips, stepping widely across the beams and peering into the abyss of the basement below... Did ideas and threats of lawsuits and even imminent danger appear to me? Naw... not so much. We finally saw "IT," a beautiful leather couch with carved arms and back...
My brain finally kicked in. We couldn't take that couch without permission. (Well, my brain kicked in partially...) I sent the same two students who had located this home to ask permission from the total strangers who had abandoned it. I had no idea who these people were or where they now lived. The rest of us simply sat in the skeletal front room of that home and waited for the verdict. The two came back beaming. They said it was fine. "All systems were GO." So my troupe and I hauled the couch to the back of my truck, and the students all piled on it in the back. We sat on that couch all the way through our town and the five-mile ride to the next... We even took the pickup with the couch and students on a wild ride through the downtown "block" -----whooping and hollering with joy, youth, .... and stupidity, actually.
Then we "sunk" about $25 or more in refinishing supplies, leather soap, etc., and we proceeded to restore the beautiful leather and clean/refinish the gorgeous carving... We worked tirelessly, but slowly the old couch breathed again, and we were so proud. Naturally I posted a huge THANK YOU to that family, calling them by name, in the bulletin for our event.
First Night, a Friday, arrived.. the play was a roaring success. A well-meaning parent who had attended the play saw the "family" in town on early Saturday and naturally remarked to them what a nice gesture it had been to "lend the Drama Class their couch".. Um... well, the truth has never come out. I don't know if the two I sent, in fact. asked and were told no or didn't bother to ask because they were aware of the private nature of this couple. Ultimately bear in mind the family had a reputation that anyone in town would have known NOT to bother... They were NOT the usual, benevolent, social, community retirees-- ready to help. I have no idea what their story was.. I do understand their total and absolute right to be MAD AS .....you know what.
Early Saturday morning I received a phone call from my superintendent, John R. Amedei, a beloved Italian gentleman who will forever hold my utmost respect and love... He began the phone call with and excited voice... then he began shouting and then.... he got louder. Evidently the family who owned the couch were there at his home threatening to call the police if the couch didn't get put back PRONTO.. As in--- I had exactly thirty minutes to get my pickup, drive to Bevier, load the couch, and return it to the decaying, unfortunate home...
For the life of me, I can't remember doing that, but it got done... and yhen we used a completely horrible couch propped up on brickbats for the second night's performance. We found that second couch in the basement of the school, covered in soot and ash... glaringly an orange and green plaid.... and full of holes, mouse poop, and the smoke and stories of an elderly janitor who had supposedly died near or on that couch...
And nothing happened more. I didn't yell or discipline the kids. My superintendent spoke no more of it to me. The family simply slipped back into their state of preferred oblivion.... And I lived to tell the tale...
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