I had many theatrical roles in our high school senior class musical — townsfolk, waiter, and passerby — but probably my most important character was that of the court reporter. It was my only speaking part.

On the first night of the production, I sat in a chair next to the judge’s podium pretending to type as I patiently waited for my cue from one of the show’s male leads, Cornelius Hackl, played by my good friend Bruce Thalmann.

He forgot his line; so I never heard my cue. All eyes were on me as I stopped fiddling with my fake typewriter long enough to realize a dead silence about the stage. I locked eyes with Bruce, who was desperately attempting to get my attention.

Comprehending what had occurred, I started to say my line, “It happened right before ‘It only takes a moment.’” But before I could get the words out, the orchestra began playing the next song of the performance to cover up the mistake.

I was crushed. My only line in the entire musical comedy — and no one even heard it! And my whole family was sitting in the audience, including my Pap and Gram Farrell.

Although my family wouldn’t be there, I had two more nights to nail my line to make sure everyone heard what I had to say. I studied all of Bruce’s lines that he was supposed to say before my one and only bit part. I wanted to be prepared in the event his mind went blank again.

While the three-night extravaganza known as the annual high school senior class musical didn’t take place until April 1984, we began preparing for the epic event back in mid-January.

While many of my friends, who I had gone to junior/senior high school with for nearly six years, were apart of the cast, including all the main characters, a number of our ranks were ninth through eleventh graders. It was an opportunity to make new friends that I would have otherwise never had the chance to meet.

It was ironic, really. Just a week prior, the senior class had a special meeting in the massive auditorium and declared their intention of having a true senior class musical with only twelfth graders in the production.

But when it got down to brass tacks, only a handful of seniors were committed to being part of that year’s musical comedy performance — including myself.

Ever since I was in seventh grade, I loved going to the annual event at Lincoln High School. It was one of the highlights of my year. I attended every single musical – The King and I, Oklahoma!, South Pacific, Guys and Dolls, and West Side Story. And now I was going to be apart of Hello, Dolly!

We began practicing for the annual event by watching the 1969 movie made famous by Barbra Streisand and Walter Matthau in one of the school’s two music rooms.

I especially loved spending time outside of class with some of my high school buddies like Rob “Mags” Magnifico, Rob “Robbie” Brough, Steve Grossman and Bruce Thalmann. It was an opportunity to get to know them on a more personal level.

We had to practice all of the songs from the musical until we were able to sing them without the sheet music. It was grueling work practicing five nights a week then going home and doing my homework.

Since basketball season was in full swing, many of us walked down the hallway to the gymnasium after practice to take in the varsity game before heading home for the evening.

Things soon kicked into high gear when we moved practice to the auditorium where we went through the entire musical from beginning to end with all the songs as well as speaking parts.

One night in particular comes to mind when I ran out one of the side doors of the auditorium and vomited all over the steps. I don’t know if it was the heat from the stage lights or something I had eaten. I was just thankful that my good friend Mags was nice enough to take me home.

During the three months of practice, it felt like we ran that school — literally. We traipsed all over that school and didn’t have any teachers to tell us to stop running in the halls.

The week before the three night performance we had dress rehearsal with full make-up and costumes. We used one of the seventh grade classrooms to change into our outfits. Then we had to race down the hall past the girls gym to have our make-up done.

Aside from my only speaking part, being a singing and dancing waiter at “The Harmonia Gardens” was one of the highlights of the play. I also had the privilege of greeting Dolly, played by Loren Vesella, herself when she entered the restaurant. I ad-libbed by kissing her hand to make it extra special.

To make the production even more exceptional, the director Cynthia Pertile, one of the school’s music teachers, added a segment to “The Harmonia Gardens” scene just for me. I rode on the dessert cart pushed by another waiter.

Although the audience never saw it, when I was pushed off the stage my comrade in a uniform had more brawn than he thought. The cart tipped over and I crashed and burned into a wall. Luckily, I was unharmed. I stood up and shook myself before racing down the steps and around the corner to change for my next scene.

Another first for our senior class musical was the orchestra pit created by a circular runway that stretched out into the first row of seats with my family sitting almost directly in front of it.

Along with the other townsfolk, I had to walk out on that runway during one of the musical numbers at the end of the production. My Pap Farrell said he was ready for me to topple headlong right into the audience.

Lucky for me, everything went off without a hitch and I was still standing at the end of the evening.

https://www.clintonnc.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/web1_New-Mark-S.-Price-1.jpg

By Mark S. Price

Contributing columnist

Mark S. Price is a former city government/county education reporter for The Sampson Independent. He currently resides in Clinton.