Epiphany

I once met an old sculptor, dying of emphysema, in Sinton TX. I wish I could remember his name. What I do remember is a sculpture of his that rested in a museum in Corpus Christi. It depicted an old man, planting a sapling with loving care. Planting a tree, the maturity of which he would never see.

Last night was our annual Members' Meeting at Sam Bass Community Theatre. This is the time for those who have given us their support and confidence by contributing their membership fees come to express their concerns, eat barbecue, and elect the Board of Directors for the next season.

The organizer of the feast brought out a cake to celebrate 25 years of the incorporation of the theater (well, I guess that answers THAT question!), and I was asked to blow out the candles. I did so, and what followed was a very personal, emotional moment. I suddenly thought of the original founders of the theater, and some of its early supporters, who are no longer with us. I thought about Marge Quick, whom I believe is deceased. Betty Porter, who doesn't get out much, any more. Mary Lee Harris, who is suffering Alzheimers. Venie Perry, who brought in two successive husbands, and all three worked their youknows off. Paul and Addy Prior, both gone now. John Bustin, critic, also gone. And I thought of that sculptor. I saw our theater as that sculpture. All these people worked so hard to make our theater what it is today, and none of them was there to see it. I cried.

I wish I could give them all a cake and a huge "Thank You," from the bottom of my heart.