Never Forget

Words and Music in the Midst of War

Every adult who was alive on September 11, 2001, has a vivid memory of where they were and what they were doing when they first became aware of the horror that was taking place right here in our country.

So much of my life was spent as a musical theater director for community and high school productions that nearly every event for those thirty-plus years is tied to a specific show. In the fall of 2001 the community group I directed for, Pocono Lively Arts, held auditions for Rodgers and Hammerstein’s The Sound of Music on September 8 and 9 and had callbacks for adults on the evening of September 10.

On the morning of September 11 I was on the phone with a friend and fellow voice teacher, asking about one of his students who had auditioned.

The call was interrupted by a friend telling me the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane.

The following is an excerpt from my upcoming book, “More Fog, Please!” and is my recollection of what followed for us during that time.

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     We had callbacks for the production on Monday night, September 10. I was on the phone the next morning talking to a voice teacher about Anastasia Dietze, a young woman we were seriously considering (and eventually cast) for Maria, when my phone call was interrupted. It was my friend Judy Lawler. “A plane just hit the World Trade Center,” she told me. I told her I would call her back. Then the nightmare unfolded.

     My son Steve, who had been my lighting director for a number of years, was living and working in Westchester County, New York. I had no reason to think he might have been in Manhattan but I was not able to reach him by phone for many hours. Hearing from him, finally, that night, was a huge relief. I could hear the stress and anguish in his voice; New York had become his city.

     Cast member David Wertz’s father worked in one of the Twin Towers; his dad was late leaving for work that morning because he had to take David’s little brother to school. When the first plane hit, if he had not been late, he would have been at his desk instead of on the George Washington Bridge headed into Manhattan. He was able to turn around and was home by six o’clock. The family hadn’t heard from him all day and didn’t know where he was, or if he was safe.

     Another high school student, Meghan Lastra, had a cousin who had just begun work at the World Trade Center; in fact, it was his first day. He was missing during our rehearsal period. We learned he had been uneasy about working there. His remains were finally recovered. We grieved with her family. Many people in our community lost loved ones that dreadful day.

     Stroudsburg is within commuting distance of the New York City area; many residents work in and near the city. Children were kept overnight at several schools in the county, thanks to the generosity and kindness of many people who provided bedding, food, and comfort. Some parents never returned home. It was a very sad, tense time.

     PLA members wondered what we should do about the show. Should we continue? My director’s note for this production reflects the feelings we all experienced :

     On September 11, we were making final casting decisions for this production. We had just spent an inspiring weekend hearing some one hundred fifty adults and children who were willing to share their time and talent in order to help present this show to the community. Then that Tuesday morning, as so many did, we wondered if this undertaking was meaningful at all in the harsh new world in which we all found ourselves.

     The answer, of course, is yes. Without beauty, without music and art, civilization would indeed be totally changed. That all of us want to continue to create and re-create reinforces our very reason for being.

     Over the past weeks, all of us involved with this production have found a renewed appreciation for this story of love and courage. The story of Captain von Trapp and his family seems especially timely today, and I think, particularly for the children in the cast; our participation has given us a truly worthwhile experience.

     As always, we are very grateful to the small army of volunteers who make this production possible – the remarkable people who work backstage, the musicians in the orchestra, the people who usher and help with tickets. Thanks to all of them, we can offer you an afternoon or evening of reliving this lovely American tradition, musical theater, by two of the finest of its creators, Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II. Community productions such as ours are a part of the very essence of this great country.

     Many thanks to you, our loyal audience, for helping us to celebrate America in this special way.

 Susan Jordan

Pocono Lively Arts (Stroudsburg High School)

November, 2001

Our Trip to CAMELOT

More about my book in progress, “More Fog, Please!” – 31 Years Directing Community and High Schol Musicals. Here’s an excerpt from the chapter on Camelot. (The chapter begins with my director’s note for the production and I’ve reproduced a section of that to start this blog post.)

     Of all the myths and legends that are part of our cultural heritage, none catches and holds our imagination more than the stories of King Arthur. The “once and future king” is presented as a ruler of vision, justice, and nobility, brought to a tragic end by those he loves most.

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     The tales of Arthur and his knights are far too many to be telescoped into an evening of theater. Alan Jay Lerner, in writing the book (or dialogue ) for Camelot, took some material from T. H. White’s book, The Once and Future King. (King Pellinore, as he appears on stage, is taken almost verbatim from White.) He also adapted some material from other sources, concentrating on Arthur’s attempt to establish a just kingdom in the midst of a chaotic historical period, and on the story of Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere. Arthur’s illegitimate son, Mordred, also plays a key role in the story.

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     Every age looks for heroes to admire and to emulate. Because of his courage, and in particular his courage to forgive – and love those he forgave – Arthur is a hero for all time. In this imperfect world, neither Arthur nor his kingdom could long survive, but

Don’t let it be forgot

That once there was a spot

For one brief, shining moment

That was known as Camelot.

Susan Jordan

Pocono Lively Arts (Stroudsburg High School)

July, 1991

     It is quite a journey from the Fairy Godmother and Cinderella to Merlin, Morgan Le Fay, Nimue and Camelot, but the wonderful world of musical theater takes us many magical places. This was another show I had long looked forward to directing. And I see that once again I had a rather lengthy director’s note due to my intense interest in the subject. Researching the background of a show I always found an engrossing, fascinating part of preparing a production.

     One thing that immediately comes to mind about this show is performing it in the middle of a sizzling heat wave. Summers in the Poconos can be just about anything: rainy and cool, dry and hot, stretches of warm days and cool nights, stretches of cool days and almost cold nights. On occasion, it can be brutally hot, day and night.

     We had such a spell that summer, and it fell mainly during tech week and performance weekend. The audiences were fine, they were sitting in air-conditioning, but whatever cooled air there might have been on stage was burned away by the lights. So actors in heavy medieval garb were walking through hallways that were stifling onto a stage that was an eyelash away from Dante’s inferno due to stage lighting.

     As a result, when the actors were not on stage, they generally shed as much of those heavy costumes as decency would allow. Nearly everyone had on an item of apparel under their costume which could be worn without shocking anyone … a leotard or a bathing suit, for the most part. Our Lancelot was a very good looking young college student who was a swimmer. I don’t think I need to elaborate. Whenever he could, he stripped down to swim trunks. The ladies in the cast were most appreciative. The words “eye candy” come to mind. It gave them something to think about other than the miserable heat.

     Morgan Le Fay must have been up to some mischief during our production because we had some interesting developments during our preparation. First was the case of the disappearing costumer, a woman who had agreed to handle costume rentals for the show. We had decided not to stint on this show. If you do Camelot, you want to do it right. She came in early in the rehearsal period with a committee who measured the cast and prepared the forms required by the rental company. Those were duly sent to the company, and her job was done until it was time to take delivery of the costumes, fit the actors, handle any necessary alterations and keep careful tabs on everything during the performances, and then collect everything to be returned.

     Ten days or so prior to show weekend I attempted to contact her to remind her of our schedule. For a couple of days I called repeatedly and couldn’t get an answer on her phone. Finally, I reached someone who informed me she was out of town. “When will she be back?” The answer stunned me.

     “We’re not sure.” What?? They were quite serious; no projected return date. She might as well have been M.I.A. Fortunately, another woman who had helped with costumes for a high school production was around, and was brave enough to take over. This was a big rental order; she became my hero. 

     King Arthur was a tall man with proportionately long arms. The stuff the costume company sent didn’t fit well; the sleeves were all too short. We were less than thrilled with Guinevere’s costumes. Merlin worked some reverse magic to counteract what Morgan had been up to (that wicked girl) and a trip to the costumer – a drive of about an hour and a half ─ was very fruitful. We came back with treasure; wonderful costumes for both the King and the Queen.

     There’s a dog in Camelot; King Pellinore has a dog named Horrid. We only need to see him once, but he’s important to Pellinore’s first entrance. We hoped to find the large, shaggy dog referenced in the script, and a friend brought his dog Ray to a rehearsal. Ray was an Irish setter, friendly, very sweet, and seemed just right for Horrid. Until the second time he went onstage.

     Ray managed to get on stage – just barely – and proceeded to lie down, after which he refused to budge. At all. He wouldn’t even lift his head. The actor who was playing Pellinore looked to me for help, but I didn’t have anything to offer. We hadn’t even considered “hiring” a dog: Horrid is only onstage one time, and is on a leash.

Eventually, Ray’s owner managed to get him offstage, and I said to him later, “I don’t think this is going to work.” He agreed. The orchestra conductor had a dog named Penny, who was getting along in years and half blind, but with her daddy in the orchestra pit she was fine. Penny had the role.

     One last not-so-shining moment … I love stage fog. Or stage mist; whatever you call it, it’s just fun to spread around for a magical show like Cinderella or Camelot. To the best of my memory, Camelot was the first show for which we used a chemical fog machine rather than one which required dry ice. My son Steve was not only lighting director, but technical director for the show. Chemical fog machines are nifty, because you’re not constricted by having to keep feeding dry ice to the machine. Merlin was bewitched by Nimue, and the fog poured out over the stage. It looked great.

     It was too great. It set off the fire alarms in the high school where we were performing, and before we knew it the Stroudsburg Volunteer Fire Department roared up to the school, at least two trucks and first responders in full fire-fighting regalia, right on the heels of the school principal (he lived mere blocks from the school). Apologies all around; we promised to control the amount of fog we produced and not have a repeat of the false alarm. The principal was very forgiving under the circumstances. So we had fog, but it was subdued fog. Too bad … the first attempt had been glorious.

     I still love Camelot, but I think it’s a show with a flaw. There is far too much dialogue, but it’s good dialogue and it’s very difficult to cut. Mr. Lerner tried valiantly to bring this sprawling epic down to a manageable evening and he did a good job. It’s still too long. But the dialogue is truly wonderful, and our actors did it well.

     Pocono Record writer Susan Koomar gave us a fine review, referring to the production as “princely.” “Well-acted and visually lush, this version of Lerner and Loewe’s classic is entertaining and often enchanting.” She went on to praise many individual performances and ended the review by referencing my director’s note: “… noble Arthur and his kingdom could not long survive in this imperfect world. But that kingdom is revived here in good measure for a short time.”

    She liked us. She really liked us!

Camelot, Pocono Lively Arts, July 1991

Photo by Roselinde Karlson