Upon returning to Anderson College for my sophomore year, things had gotten much better for me. I was the hero of the Theatre for pulling off "Up the Down Staircase". I had a private room in the same suite, where Louie used to be. People started liking me more. Things were good. I changed my major to Speech and Drama from English. I was still in the Ivy Leaves literary group, but I dropped all of the religious organizations. I also stopped going to church.
During the Fall of 1972, I took much more of an active role in both politics and the stage. I was also in great physical shape. On Saturdays, Phil and I would play tennis. I also ran a lot and walked. Mr. Vivian was looking to direct a play called "Laura". It was a murder mystery. I thought for sure that I would get the male lead, but that went to Dennis. I was not pleased. After all, people liked me. Mr. Vivian felt I needed to get some technical work under my belt, so I was cast in a very minor role of a detective. I only had 2 lines--"You mean it was him? C'mon let's go". Funny how you remember stuff. I worked backstage on the set design, lighting and sound. One of the props needed for the play was a stereo. Mr. Vivian and I went to a local stereo store and asked them to loan us a stereo for the play. They did, but they wanted free advertising in the program. Done. The stereo had a demo record attached to the back. Mysteriously, the record went missing. I had it for several years. Confession is good for the soul.
The play went well. There were two actresses who played "Laura". One was a little older than the other. Linda was the younger one. She died the next year in a car crash. Jimmy played the villain. He and I became very good friends. Howard played a suspect. He and I were at Flora together. He went on to play golf and is now a motivational speaker.
The one thing I learned from "Laura" is not to get your ego in your way. All jobs are important to the overall success of a piece. It may hurt not getting the lead every time, but one can do things that will enhance one's part no matter how big the part is.
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Explo '72
One of the group that I got involved in during my freshman year at Anderson College was Campus Crusade for Christ. My two suitemates, Steve and Lenny, were also involved in it. We went to gatherings at Clemson. One of the events we signed up for was Explo '72, which was going to be held in Dallas, TX in June. Steve, Judy (Steve's girlfriend), me and a few others left Greenville on the bus to go to Dallas.
The bus drove all night, and we got to Dallas the next day. We stayed in a motel in Arlington. The motel overbooked their rooms for the event, and the only room left for the 3 guys in our group was a suite which was built for 8 people. We thought it was great, since each person could have their own room and bathroom. Our meetings were at UTA. We heard Andrae Crouch, Danny Lee, and others. Our night meetings were at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas. We heard from Bill Bright, who headed Campus Crusade, as well as other religious leaders. There were also musicians including Barry McGuire and Johnny Cash. There were 100,000 college kids from all over the country to attend this week-long event.
One of the goals of Explo was to send people out by twos and witness to 8 people, thus witnessing to every person in Dallas. It was a monumental task. Each pair was given 8 addresses in the Dallas area. I went with a girl I didn't know. One of the pair would present the gospel message, while the other one sat quietly and prayed. She volunteered to speak. I volunteered to pray. We knocked on doors, but no one came. It was the middle of the afternoon, and most people were at work. There was one lady home. She invited us in, and we presented the gospel to her. She said she went to church, but she had not heard the message presented in such a way. She gave us some water, and we went on our way. Everyone else either didn't answer the door or weren't home. I don't know how many people made a decision that day.
When we returned back to the motel one night after a Cotton Bowl rally, Steve wanted to say good night to Judy. The other guy wanted to get something to eat. So, I went to the room. When I opened the door, there were two kids in a rollaway bed in the front room of the suite. I just figured that they had put them in our room, since we had so much space left over. I went down the hall to my room; opened the door; and found a couple sleeping in my bed. I left them, and went outside. I found Steve and the other guy and told them that other people were in our room. Steve thought I was lying, so he went into the room to find the same thing. We went to the front desk, and they told us that a large family had come to the motel, while a double room had checked out. The motel moved our stuff into the double room, and moved the family into ours. They showed us our new room, and it was like entering the twilight zone. All of our stuff was placed in the exact spots where we had left them in the other room. The motel had taken polaroids of our stuff and used the pictures to place our stuff. Even the toothpaste and mouthwash in the bathroom were exactly where they were in the other room. One other strange part of this night--the family never woke up from their sleep, while we were walking around the old room. Our initial thought was that they had stolen our stuff. We could have killed them all that night as they slept, but that wouldn't be the Christian thing to do.
On Saturday, which was also my birthday, Campus Crusade had the Jesus Music Festival in downtown Dallas. 100,000 people were there. So were Johnny Cash, The Carter Family, Billy Graham, and a lot more. Judy, Steve and I were toward the back of the crowd. I told Judy about my life story of bullying, suicide attempts, and other stuff. She felt so sorry for me that she told me she was changing her major to psychology to help people like me. I don't know if she did.
After the festival, I got on a Greyhound bus to go home. The bus went to Atlanta, where I was transferring to a bus to go to Columbia. While I was sitting in the waiting room of the terminal, I saw the news that there had been a break-in at the Democratic Headquarters in Washington, and the perps had been arrested. I remember thinking how stupid those guys were. Little did I know that was the start of Watergate.
The bus drove all night, and we got to Dallas the next day. We stayed in a motel in Arlington. The motel overbooked their rooms for the event, and the only room left for the 3 guys in our group was a suite which was built for 8 people. We thought it was great, since each person could have their own room and bathroom. Our meetings were at UTA. We heard Andrae Crouch, Danny Lee, and others. Our night meetings were at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas. We heard from Bill Bright, who headed Campus Crusade, as well as other religious leaders. There were also musicians including Barry McGuire and Johnny Cash. There were 100,000 college kids from all over the country to attend this week-long event.
One of the goals of Explo was to send people out by twos and witness to 8 people, thus witnessing to every person in Dallas. It was a monumental task. Each pair was given 8 addresses in the Dallas area. I went with a girl I didn't know. One of the pair would present the gospel message, while the other one sat quietly and prayed. She volunteered to speak. I volunteered to pray. We knocked on doors, but no one came. It was the middle of the afternoon, and most people were at work. There was one lady home. She invited us in, and we presented the gospel to her. She said she went to church, but she had not heard the message presented in such a way. She gave us some water, and we went on our way. Everyone else either didn't answer the door or weren't home. I don't know how many people made a decision that day.
When we returned back to the motel one night after a Cotton Bowl rally, Steve wanted to say good night to Judy. The other guy wanted to get something to eat. So, I went to the room. When I opened the door, there were two kids in a rollaway bed in the front room of the suite. I just figured that they had put them in our room, since we had so much space left over. I went down the hall to my room; opened the door; and found a couple sleeping in my bed. I left them, and went outside. I found Steve and the other guy and told them that other people were in our room. Steve thought I was lying, so he went into the room to find the same thing. We went to the front desk, and they told us that a large family had come to the motel, while a double room had checked out. The motel moved our stuff into the double room, and moved the family into ours. They showed us our new room, and it was like entering the twilight zone. All of our stuff was placed in the exact spots where we had left them in the other room. The motel had taken polaroids of our stuff and used the pictures to place our stuff. Even the toothpaste and mouthwash in the bathroom were exactly where they were in the other room. One other strange part of this night--the family never woke up from their sleep, while we were walking around the old room. Our initial thought was that they had stolen our stuff. We could have killed them all that night as they slept, but that wouldn't be the Christian thing to do.
On Saturday, which was also my birthday, Campus Crusade had the Jesus Music Festival in downtown Dallas. 100,000 people were there. So were Johnny Cash, The Carter Family, Billy Graham, and a lot more. Judy, Steve and I were toward the back of the crowd. I told Judy about my life story of bullying, suicide attempts, and other stuff. She felt so sorry for me that she told me she was changing her major to psychology to help people like me. I don't know if she did.
After the festival, I got on a Greyhound bus to go home. The bus went to Atlanta, where I was transferring to a bus to go to Columbia. While I was sitting in the waiting room of the terminal, I saw the news that there had been a break-in at the Democratic Headquarters in Washington, and the perps had been arrested. I remember thinking how stupid those guys were. Little did I know that was the start of Watergate.
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Anti-War
The political climate today is much different than the late 1960's to early 1970's. Today, the issues include immigration, the economy, education, jobs, and global terrorism. Back then, there were basically two important issues--civil rights and the Vietnam War.
In 1969, I became aware of the Vietnam War and why we needed to get out of there. Nixon was the president. By 1972, I had become a part of the anti-war movement. I formed an organization called The Walter Durst Society for Human Rights, which became The United Society. I also joined two groups--The Individuals Against the Crime of Silence and The National Peace Action Coalition. NPAC organized a lot of rallies and marches. I got a lot of pinback buttons from them, as well as posters and pamphlets. I became their representative on the Anderson College campus. I didn't participate in any marches, but I did write articles for the newspaper, and display the posters around campus. AC was a very conservative school, so I didn't have a lot of help in this cause. I also became the head of the McGovern for President campaign at school. I met Joe Biden years later, and he said that the McGovern campaign was his first job in politics. I told him it was mine too, and he grinned and said that it was "a very lonely job". We laughed over it, but the fact was, at the time, we were both dead serious.
As soon as I would put an anti-war poster up, someone would rip it down or write rude messages on it. There was no freedom of speech. One guy in particular was a National Guardsman. He actually threatened physical harm toward me. A poll was taken of the students, and 98% went for Nixon. I was definitely in the minority.
My anti-war activities also included some things related to slowing down the war effort. I got about 200 cards from the Pentagon to get folks to express an interest in volunteering for work as nurses in the military. I filled out those cards with phony names and addresses, so it would take people at the Pentagon to write these fake people and get the letters back undeliverable, thus slowing down their work.
During this time, I also was involved in ecology. There was a stream that flowed through a park in downtown Anderson. The stream was heavily polluted from a run-off that came from a nearby road and a tire store. Dogs played in the stream along with children. I wrote the mayor about cleaning up the stream, but he said no.
I wore an Army shirt that I got from the Army/Navy store. The law said that you could wear a shirt like that, as long as it didn't have a name on the shirt other than yours. Mine had "Jackson" on it, and I wore it proudly, until it fell apart. I never washed it.
One result of my activities was that I started to have an FBI agent follow me around. They kept tabs on me. As I said before, it was a different time. Years later, I applied for and got a federal job. It involved some very secure documents. I had been there 9 months, when one day my supervisor asked if there had been a background check run on me. I told him no, so they did one. The next week, I was let go with no explanation. I wrote to the FBI to request my file. I got two pages from them with my name at the top, and the two pages were blackened out, with a notice at the bottom "by reason of national security". I applied for another federal job and was denied. I asked them if it was because of my anti-war activity, and they said yes. I asked them what if I renounced everything I stood for during that time. They said that it would be a good thing to do, but I could be blackmailed with my past. They weren't kidding.
In 1974, I took a Sociology class and wanted to do a slide presentation on the movement. I took pictures of the posters and buttons, but I wanted more, so I went to Fort Jackson to take pictures of tanks and soldiers. As I was doing so, two MP's drove up in a jeep to ask me what I was doing. I told them, and they said I couldn't do it, and I had to leave. I drove to another part of the base and started taking more pictures. The same two MP's showed up again, this time with guns drawn. They wanted the film in my camera, which I gave to them, although I had some already used in my car, which I didn't give them. They escorted me off of the base. I got an A for my project.
There were two people I truly hated during that time. One was the guy who stole my love away. The other was Richard Nixon.
Many years later, I was at a White Elephant Party at church. One of the items brought was an oil painting of Nixon. I got it, but someone traded for it, and I lost it. I found Nixon's address and wrote to him, telling him the painting had been stolen from me. He sent me an autographed picture. I sold it for $100.
In 1969, I became aware of the Vietnam War and why we needed to get out of there. Nixon was the president. By 1972, I had become a part of the anti-war movement. I formed an organization called The Walter Durst Society for Human Rights, which became The United Society. I also joined two groups--The Individuals Against the Crime of Silence and The National Peace Action Coalition. NPAC organized a lot of rallies and marches. I got a lot of pinback buttons from them, as well as posters and pamphlets. I became their representative on the Anderson College campus. I didn't participate in any marches, but I did write articles for the newspaper, and display the posters around campus. AC was a very conservative school, so I didn't have a lot of help in this cause. I also became the head of the McGovern for President campaign at school. I met Joe Biden years later, and he said that the McGovern campaign was his first job in politics. I told him it was mine too, and he grinned and said that it was "a very lonely job". We laughed over it, but the fact was, at the time, we were both dead serious.
As soon as I would put an anti-war poster up, someone would rip it down or write rude messages on it. There was no freedom of speech. One guy in particular was a National Guardsman. He actually threatened physical harm toward me. A poll was taken of the students, and 98% went for Nixon. I was definitely in the minority.
My anti-war activities also included some things related to slowing down the war effort. I got about 200 cards from the Pentagon to get folks to express an interest in volunteering for work as nurses in the military. I filled out those cards with phony names and addresses, so it would take people at the Pentagon to write these fake people and get the letters back undeliverable, thus slowing down their work.
During this time, I also was involved in ecology. There was a stream that flowed through a park in downtown Anderson. The stream was heavily polluted from a run-off that came from a nearby road and a tire store. Dogs played in the stream along with children. I wrote the mayor about cleaning up the stream, but he said no.
I wore an Army shirt that I got from the Army/Navy store. The law said that you could wear a shirt like that, as long as it didn't have a name on the shirt other than yours. Mine had "Jackson" on it, and I wore it proudly, until it fell apart. I never washed it.
One result of my activities was that I started to have an FBI agent follow me around. They kept tabs on me. As I said before, it was a different time. Years later, I applied for and got a federal job. It involved some very secure documents. I had been there 9 months, when one day my supervisor asked if there had been a background check run on me. I told him no, so they did one. The next week, I was let go with no explanation. I wrote to the FBI to request my file. I got two pages from them with my name at the top, and the two pages were blackened out, with a notice at the bottom "by reason of national security". I applied for another federal job and was denied. I asked them if it was because of my anti-war activity, and they said yes. I asked them what if I renounced everything I stood for during that time. They said that it would be a good thing to do, but I could be blackmailed with my past. They weren't kidding.
In 1974, I took a Sociology class and wanted to do a slide presentation on the movement. I took pictures of the posters and buttons, but I wanted more, so I went to Fort Jackson to take pictures of tanks and soldiers. As I was doing so, two MP's drove up in a jeep to ask me what I was doing. I told them, and they said I couldn't do it, and I had to leave. I drove to another part of the base and started taking more pictures. The same two MP's showed up again, this time with guns drawn. They wanted the film in my camera, which I gave to them, although I had some already used in my car, which I didn't give them. They escorted me off of the base. I got an A for my project.
There were two people I truly hated during that time. One was the guy who stole my love away. The other was Richard Nixon.
Many years later, I was at a White Elephant Party at church. One of the items brought was an oil painting of Nixon. I got it, but someone traded for it, and I lost it. I found Nixon's address and wrote to him, telling him the painting had been stolen from me. He sent me an autographed picture. I sold it for $100.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Parking Lot
After doing an awful thing at my first job at S Mart, I was reluctant to do any work, but I got a summer job in 1972 at Bankers Trust on Main St. in Columbia. My job was the Assistant Parking Lot Attendant. The parking lot was outdoors, and the main attendant was much older and needed to take a lot of breaks. Outside in the summertime was not real fun, but I had a chair under a shade tree.
The parking lot had about 20 spaces and it was for the customers of the bank. The main bank building had a back door that led to the lot. There was also a building across the street for other bank offices. They told me the first day that the parking lot, which was free to park, was just for bank customers. It wasn't for anyone who wanted to park and then go shopping. They knew how long a person should be in the bank, and if the car just sat, I was to get the license plate; call the DMV to find out who owned the car; and if the owner could not be accounted for, we had it towed by Happy Daddy Towing Service. There were signs in the parking lot noting that fact.
One day, I was watching the cars, and one had been there for quite some time. I went through the procedures, and I called around to the offices, and no one recognized the name on the car. So, I had it towed. A little while later, a girl came out to leave, and she could not find her car. I told her that it had been towed. It turned out that she was in Personnel interviewing for a job, and the car was her mother's. The bank had to pay Happy Daddy to get the car out, and I had to go out there to pick it up. I don't think the girl took the job that was offered to her.
I also learned that just because there are rules about only bank customers parking there, it doesn't mean they are strictly enforced. The lot was one block from the State House, and I was told that folks with special state license plates could park there. But, they took up the spaces for the customers. There was always a grey area between right and wrong at the bank.
One of my duties was to direct traffic in the lot. Some of the spaces were hard to back out of, and I worked to get the cars in and out, especially during the noon rush. One day, I was trying to get a woman in a Cadillac to back out, so that a VW Bug could move into the spot. The woman was doing fine. I was in between her car and the VW. As she was pulling away, she forgot her car was still in reverse. She put her foot to the gas, and her car lurched backwards, pinning me between her car and the VW. Her heard something pop in my knees. I had to climb out on the hood of the VW. She leaned out her window and asked me if everything was okay. I just said yes, as I was in great pain, and she sped off. I went into my supervisor's office to tell him what happened, and he sent me to the hospital to be checked out. They did some x-rays and determined that I had just bruised a bone. My right thigh muscle hurt a lot, but they said it was just a trauma and to go home and rest.
My parents were out of town. I was back at work the next day after a hot bath. Two years later, I started having pains in my knees. I ran a lot and was in really good shape, but my parents felt I should go to an orthopedist just to see if there was a problem. The doctor did x-rays and found that both knees were dislocated. My right knee was worse than my left. He said that he could fix them, but I would be in a cast for six months. Or, the other alternative was not to fix them, and I would get arthritis when I was 40. I was heavily into Theatre, so I couldn't see taking the cast option, and 40 seemed a long time away, so I opted for the arthritis. Sure enough, when I turned 40, I got arthritis in my right knee. My right foot is wider than my left, because my weight shifted. My right calf turns out to the right instead of being straight from the knee to my ankle. Years later, I was talking to a doctor about my injury. He said to never go to an ER when you think you have broken a bone. They don't know what to look for. I learned that lesson the hard way.
I did complete my summer job without further incidents.
The parking lot had about 20 spaces and it was for the customers of the bank. The main bank building had a back door that led to the lot. There was also a building across the street for other bank offices. They told me the first day that the parking lot, which was free to park, was just for bank customers. It wasn't for anyone who wanted to park and then go shopping. They knew how long a person should be in the bank, and if the car just sat, I was to get the license plate; call the DMV to find out who owned the car; and if the owner could not be accounted for, we had it towed by Happy Daddy Towing Service. There were signs in the parking lot noting that fact.
One day, I was watching the cars, and one had been there for quite some time. I went through the procedures, and I called around to the offices, and no one recognized the name on the car. So, I had it towed. A little while later, a girl came out to leave, and she could not find her car. I told her that it had been towed. It turned out that she was in Personnel interviewing for a job, and the car was her mother's. The bank had to pay Happy Daddy to get the car out, and I had to go out there to pick it up. I don't think the girl took the job that was offered to her.
I also learned that just because there are rules about only bank customers parking there, it doesn't mean they are strictly enforced. The lot was one block from the State House, and I was told that folks with special state license plates could park there. But, they took up the spaces for the customers. There was always a grey area between right and wrong at the bank.
One of my duties was to direct traffic in the lot. Some of the spaces were hard to back out of, and I worked to get the cars in and out, especially during the noon rush. One day, I was trying to get a woman in a Cadillac to back out, so that a VW Bug could move into the spot. The woman was doing fine. I was in between her car and the VW. As she was pulling away, she forgot her car was still in reverse. She put her foot to the gas, and her car lurched backwards, pinning me between her car and the VW. Her heard something pop in my knees. I had to climb out on the hood of the VW. She leaned out her window and asked me if everything was okay. I just said yes, as I was in great pain, and she sped off. I went into my supervisor's office to tell him what happened, and he sent me to the hospital to be checked out. They did some x-rays and determined that I had just bruised a bone. My right thigh muscle hurt a lot, but they said it was just a trauma and to go home and rest.
My parents were out of town. I was back at work the next day after a hot bath. Two years later, I started having pains in my knees. I ran a lot and was in really good shape, but my parents felt I should go to an orthopedist just to see if there was a problem. The doctor did x-rays and found that both knees were dislocated. My right knee was worse than my left. He said that he could fix them, but I would be in a cast for six months. Or, the other alternative was not to fix them, and I would get arthritis when I was 40. I was heavily into Theatre, so I couldn't see taking the cast option, and 40 seemed a long time away, so I opted for the arthritis. Sure enough, when I turned 40, I got arthritis in my right knee. My right foot is wider than my left, because my weight shifted. My right calf turns out to the right instead of being straight from the knee to my ankle. Years later, I was talking to a doctor about my injury. He said to never go to an ER when you think you have broken a bone. They don't know what to look for. I learned that lesson the hard way.
I did complete my summer job without further incidents.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Performing and Trouble
In the 4th grade, we had a talent show. Some kids danced; some sang; and some did recitations. I tried to do something different, so I did some impressions. I did animal noises and bird calls. I concluded the act with a Tarzan yell. I got a lot of laughs. It may have been the first time I used humor in an act of mine. I didn't win the show. I may have come in last, because the teacher didn't care for it, but the kids liked it.
In 8th grade, I was sitting in class one day listening to my teacher, whose name was Mr. Stock. He had a crew cut and was pretty tall. He was probably in his thirties, but he seemed old. There was an empty desk in front of mine. The desk had an opening in it that was for books and papers. I had a rubber band and some paper, so I made some spitballs and was shooting them into the desk's opening in front of me. Mr. Stock was writing on the board with his back turned away from us. I shot one spitball which missed the opening; clipped the top of the desk; and hit Mr. Stock in the back of his neck. He spun around and asked who did it. Now, you would think that no one would say anything, but everybody pointed to me. He made me stay after class and write on the blackboard numerous times that I would not shoot spitballs in class. I was late getting home that day, and my Mother asked why. When I told her, I was punished again.
So, the moral of this story is that it is better to do a Tarzan yell than to hit your teacher in the back of the head.
In 8th grade, I was sitting in class one day listening to my teacher, whose name was Mr. Stock. He had a crew cut and was pretty tall. He was probably in his thirties, but he seemed old. There was an empty desk in front of mine. The desk had an opening in it that was for books and papers. I had a rubber band and some paper, so I made some spitballs and was shooting them into the desk's opening in front of me. Mr. Stock was writing on the board with his back turned away from us. I shot one spitball which missed the opening; clipped the top of the desk; and hit Mr. Stock in the back of his neck. He spun around and asked who did it. Now, you would think that no one would say anything, but everybody pointed to me. He made me stay after class and write on the blackboard numerous times that I would not shoot spitballs in class. I was late getting home that day, and my Mother asked why. When I told her, I was punished again.
So, the moral of this story is that it is better to do a Tarzan yell than to hit your teacher in the back of the head.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
SBC's
As I mentioned earlier, our family vacations were paired a lot with Daddy's work. They were either at Ridgecrest, Glorieta, or at Southern Baptist Convention meetings. I wanted to talk about three of them.
One was in Houston, TX in 1968. I remember it, because we heard about Bobby Kennedy getting shot in Los Angeles, while we were in Houston. It was the headline on a newspaper we saw in a box on the street. Daddy and Mother worked in Houston at a church long before I was born. The pastor of that church was Dr. Westmoreland, and he had box seats for the Houston Astros baseball team. We got to go to the Astrodome and watch a game. That was pretty cool. Daddy had a free day, and he asked me if I would rather go to San Antonio to see the Alamo, or to go to Astroworld and ride rides. I opted for the park. During that trip, we stopped in Selma, AL for dinner. I heard there that Otis Redding had been killed in a plane crash. Funny how you remember where you were.
In 1969, the SBC was in New Orleans. It was the first time (and the only time) I had been back to my hometown. My Mother and I went to the Lowe's Theatre to see the movie "If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium". It was a funny movie, and kind of ironic, because 4 years later, I would experience that movie first-hand. The Theatre was the swankiest I had ever seen. I also experienced the seamy side of New Orleans with the strip bars of the French Quarter. I couldn't go inside, but the doormen would open the doors to show me what was inside. I also experienced men trying to pick me up. I didn't know at the time what that was about. I did fall in love with pecan pralines.
One other trip we made to a convention was Philadelphia. We saw all of the historical stuff there, and I ran from downtown to the art museum and climbed the steps to stop at the top. I did this before Rocky did it, so maybe he got the idea from me. I was in really good shape.
One was in Houston, TX in 1968. I remember it, because we heard about Bobby Kennedy getting shot in Los Angeles, while we were in Houston. It was the headline on a newspaper we saw in a box on the street. Daddy and Mother worked in Houston at a church long before I was born. The pastor of that church was Dr. Westmoreland, and he had box seats for the Houston Astros baseball team. We got to go to the Astrodome and watch a game. That was pretty cool. Daddy had a free day, and he asked me if I would rather go to San Antonio to see the Alamo, or to go to Astroworld and ride rides. I opted for the park. During that trip, we stopped in Selma, AL for dinner. I heard there that Otis Redding had been killed in a plane crash. Funny how you remember where you were.
In 1969, the SBC was in New Orleans. It was the first time (and the only time) I had been back to my hometown. My Mother and I went to the Lowe's Theatre to see the movie "If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium". It was a funny movie, and kind of ironic, because 4 years later, I would experience that movie first-hand. The Theatre was the swankiest I had ever seen. I also experienced the seamy side of New Orleans with the strip bars of the French Quarter. I couldn't go inside, but the doormen would open the doors to show me what was inside. I also experienced men trying to pick me up. I didn't know at the time what that was about. I did fall in love with pecan pralines.
One other trip we made to a convention was Philadelphia. We saw all of the historical stuff there, and I ran from downtown to the art museum and climbed the steps to stop at the top. I did this before Rocky did it, so maybe he got the idea from me. I was in really good shape.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Staircase
As I mentioned in my previous post, Lenny was involved with the music dept. at Anderson. He would later be president of the choir. One afternoon after class, I wasn't doing anything. He asked me if I would help him move a piano onstage of the auditorium, after the play rehearsal was over. They needed the piano for chapel the next day. Even though I had the experience with the Theatre, I was majoring in English to become a writer, and I was not real interested in doing plays. It took up too much time. Time I wanted for fun.
Lenny and I sat in the back of the auditorium, waiting to do our thing with the piano. A guy named Reed came up to us and asked us if we wanted to be in the play. He said there were two minor roles that had not been cast. The play was "Up the Down Staircase", and it had a pretty big cast. Lenny said no, but I asked what one of the part were. Reed said they had a part called Mr. Bester, who was an English teacher, and he had very few lines. I thought why not, so I agreed to do it, as it wouldn't be much of a stretch for me, and it wouldn't cut into my fun time.
The director of the play was a professor at the school. His name was Mr. Vivian, and he taught Speech and Drama. He knew my father, as they were in seminary together years before. Not to sound egotistical or anything, but there were very few people in Baptist circles that my father didn't know. Anyway, I volunteered for the part. They asked me what experience I had in Theatre, and I cited Columbia College. That was good enough for them.
I went to all of the rehearsals, even if I wasn't going to be called. I just enjoyed the experience of the rehearsal. I got to where I knew everyone's lines besides just mine. The night of the dress rehearsal was when chaos set in. The lead male role was a guy named Joe Ferrone. He was a difficult student that the teacher tried to help. The actor playing the role was a guy named Chris, who really looked the part. He was very good in the role. At the time for the dress rehearsal, Chris was nowhere to be found. The word came down to us that he had quit school. Mr. Vivian came to me and asked me if I would play Joe. I knew the lines. I knew the blocking. But, what about Mr. Bester? Mr. Vivian said that they would change some stuff around, and I would play both parts, with Mr. Bester not being seen.
For two days, I cut all of my classes and began to cram for the role. I spent a lot of time of the stage going over lines and blocking. Chris had longer hair that me, so Mr. Vivian took me to a wig store, and we got something called the Joe Namath wig to make my hair a little longer. I also did some stuff to get a costume together. I had to pull this off for the sake of the show.
On opening night, Chris showed up and wanting to play his part. He apologized for skipping school, and he said the pressure had gotten too great. I was very willing to have Chris take the part back, but Mr. Vivian made the decision. I was to do it. The meeting backstage was very tense, but most of the cast agreed with Mr. Vivian. Since the play took place in a classroom, I was able to use a notebook as a cheat sheet for my lines. The audience never knew that. After the play was over that first night, Chris came up to me and said I did good. A reporter from the local newspaper said in the review that I did the best I could considering I got the role two days before opening night. I really didn't know how to take the review, but it did encourage me to do better, if there was a next time.
If the drama bug had bit me at Columbia College, it bit me harder now. There were people in the cast like Debbie, Ann and Nancy who recognized my talent and encouraged me to do more. I decided to change my major from English to Speech and Drama. It was a life-changing decision. I got applause for my work. Once again, people told me I had talent. I was the talk of the school. I was not used to that, but it felt good. I don't recommend anyone taking a role that soon before a show, but I pulled it off.
I live in a world of what ifs. What if Lenny had not asked me to help him with the piano? What if Reed had not asked me to do a small role? What if Chris had not left school two days before opening night? What if Mr. Vivian had not had faith in me? I guess I would never had done a lot of plays. I guess I wouldn't have been in movies or TV. But, all the stars aligned for me that time, and my life changed forever.
Lenny and I sat in the back of the auditorium, waiting to do our thing with the piano. A guy named Reed came up to us and asked us if we wanted to be in the play. He said there were two minor roles that had not been cast. The play was "Up the Down Staircase", and it had a pretty big cast. Lenny said no, but I asked what one of the part were. Reed said they had a part called Mr. Bester, who was an English teacher, and he had very few lines. I thought why not, so I agreed to do it, as it wouldn't be much of a stretch for me, and it wouldn't cut into my fun time.
The director of the play was a professor at the school. His name was Mr. Vivian, and he taught Speech and Drama. He knew my father, as they were in seminary together years before. Not to sound egotistical or anything, but there were very few people in Baptist circles that my father didn't know. Anyway, I volunteered for the part. They asked me what experience I had in Theatre, and I cited Columbia College. That was good enough for them.
I went to all of the rehearsals, even if I wasn't going to be called. I just enjoyed the experience of the rehearsal. I got to where I knew everyone's lines besides just mine. The night of the dress rehearsal was when chaos set in. The lead male role was a guy named Joe Ferrone. He was a difficult student that the teacher tried to help. The actor playing the role was a guy named Chris, who really looked the part. He was very good in the role. At the time for the dress rehearsal, Chris was nowhere to be found. The word came down to us that he had quit school. Mr. Vivian came to me and asked me if I would play Joe. I knew the lines. I knew the blocking. But, what about Mr. Bester? Mr. Vivian said that they would change some stuff around, and I would play both parts, with Mr. Bester not being seen.
For two days, I cut all of my classes and began to cram for the role. I spent a lot of time of the stage going over lines and blocking. Chris had longer hair that me, so Mr. Vivian took me to a wig store, and we got something called the Joe Namath wig to make my hair a little longer. I also did some stuff to get a costume together. I had to pull this off for the sake of the show.
On opening night, Chris showed up and wanting to play his part. He apologized for skipping school, and he said the pressure had gotten too great. I was very willing to have Chris take the part back, but Mr. Vivian made the decision. I was to do it. The meeting backstage was very tense, but most of the cast agreed with Mr. Vivian. Since the play took place in a classroom, I was able to use a notebook as a cheat sheet for my lines. The audience never knew that. After the play was over that first night, Chris came up to me and said I did good. A reporter from the local newspaper said in the review that I did the best I could considering I got the role two days before opening night. I really didn't know how to take the review, but it did encourage me to do better, if there was a next time.
If the drama bug had bit me at Columbia College, it bit me harder now. There were people in the cast like Debbie, Ann and Nancy who recognized my talent and encouraged me to do more. I decided to change my major from English to Speech and Drama. It was a life-changing decision. I got applause for my work. Once again, people told me I had talent. I was the talk of the school. I was not used to that, but it felt good. I don't recommend anyone taking a role that soon before a show, but I pulled it off.
I live in a world of what ifs. What if Lenny had not asked me to help him with the piano? What if Reed had not asked me to do a small role? What if Chris had not left school two days before opening night? What if Mr. Vivian had not had faith in me? I guess I would never had done a lot of plays. I guess I wouldn't have been in movies or TV. But, all the stars aligned for me that time, and my life changed forever.
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