SOLDIERING THROUGH

JUST SOLDIERING THROUGH Back in May 1984 we brought a Negro Ensemble Company production, “A Soldier’s Play,” to the Folly Theatre in Kansas City, Missouri, a whole week. I was newly divorced, bitterly hurt, single parent. I quickly sought to fill in the void in my life with some self-affirming activity. But drama? Thereby I went from drama to a drama! But I risk being too froward. Anyway, the “first of its kind,” ‘now-playing’ in black Kansas City drama, as some people had claimed, was successful . The play house was paid. The entourage was paid. It was on tour anyway, in Denver, and its New York producers were not about to return it to New York City without finishing its run, because of disputes between me and Folly Theatre folks. I had tried to find co-sponsors in Missouri and Kansas. But each one had wanted to cherry-pick the weekends to maximize the returns on their investments. So did I a novice! In the end, the options ran out. I was left alone. It was up to me and The Nile Company (my literary alter ego that I often used in my African American productions), to make it work. Yet, even with our neophyte status and money woes, we could still have made a profit; that is, until the house told me that my advertising campaign was going to have to declare “who” was really backing, “who”’ was bringing the play to town; because its league of regular theatre goers had assumed that the Folly was its sponsor, since it was playing at the Folly. It was then that I learned, too-late , during my protests, that stage dramas are rarely profitable ; but are used as tax-write-off vehicles by Brahmans . Identifying the sponsor in race-conscious KC would severely dampen sales which, until then, were brisk, as few black people are stage play-oriented in Kansas City. The house then threatened to cancel the entire production if I did not relent, if I did not revise newspaper and radio advertising campaigns to say “who” was the play’s sponsor. Reluctantly, I buckled under! The Nile Company was listed as the play’s sponsor. As I was then an Assistant United States Attorney, I did not use my name as sponsor, for I did not wish to drag my office into what was my private effort. I was already far too heavily vested & financially invested, to have the deal killed by not meeting the demands of the house and its theatre leagues. So the play went on to half-empty houses for the entire week and like that was gone. But “A Soldier’s Play” that recaptured segregated black soldiers’ peculiar interactions vis a vis “Jim Crow” and each other, during American world wars , was marvelously acted, immensely interesting, and entertaining for me and the audience of often animated viewers , one of whom loudly dropped a bottle in a scene. The house was paid. The tour continued. I was left with the unrequited debt. But, on the brighter side, I had found a wonderful female friend of beauty, wit, character with whom I shared box seats, and the joy of child-reading at a critical time in my 33 year old newly-bachelorhood life . “We” had brought black theatre culture to Kansas City that was engaging, dramatic, thematic, not just comedic. Its aesthetic enjoyment was redolent of that felt earlier by me during my Ira Aldridge Theatre-going days in the 1970’s at Howard University. “We” had pulled it off! We had brought it from New York to KC via Denver, successfully . Most importantly it was by, through, with, “A Soldiers Play,” that I had personally “soldiered” through divorce, doldrums, deceit, self-doubt. In retrospect, as they say, had I known then what I know now, I might have done things quite differently. Then, Maybe not. We are shaped by our pasts. The point is this: I am still here! Despite the panorama of challenges, the difficulties, the rewards, the pleasures of that plethora of experiences sustains me joyfully into life. Amen.