I chose him because I saw his one-man show and the guy could act. I chose him because my monologues seemed to fit his style. I chose him because he was friendly and accessible.
It was all set up. He would perform my material in a workshop for one of the local theater groups. I was happy, and I assumed so was he, someone who loved being on stage.
A week before the event, he e-mailed, asking if we could have a rehearsal, seeking my input into his preparation. I agreed. We were to meet at the theater late one Sunday afternoon.
As it happened, when I arrived, there were several other members working on scenery for a show that was going up soon. I sat on a bench outside, reading the paper – waiting.
A half-hour passed, then an hour. I did not have his phone number with me. Actors arrived for rehearsal for the coming show. The director informed me she needed the stage and if my actor finally showed, we’d have to find another place to rehearse.
I waited another half hour and left, wondering if he had had an accident. I e-mailed him as soon as I got home, but received no response.
The next day I contacted the president of our theater group asking if he knew anything. He responded that the man was hale and hearty at the board meeting, and there was nothing wrong that he could sense. He said he’d contact him and let him know I was asking.
Two days later, I got an e-mail from this guy stating the following: “Kevin says you wanted to speak to me. Here I am.”
That was it. No apology or explanation why he never showed for a rehearsal or why he refused to respond to my e-mail. I answered that because he didn’t show I was concerned something had happened to him.
He never answered and I decided right then to boycott my own workshop. To this day I don’t know if he even performed the work.
As the months passed, I avoided him at meetings. In fact, I never spoke another word to him.
Meanwhile, he was appearing in every show, every workshop, auditioning for as much as he could. In the 18 months he was in the group he’d become one of its best known members.
This spring, he appeared in a popular musical for us. I handled traffic control one night and was let in free.
He was bouncing around, singing and dancing up a storm, clearly in his element. I wanted to punch his face.
A week later, midway through the run, we received an e-mail from the president sadly announcing this man’s passing. Funeral arrangements were included. I decided it would be hypocritical of me to go – I’d had nothing but negative thoughts about the man for months after the lack of respect he showed me.
Recently, I attended the theater’s season ending party. As soon as I sat down with my plate full of summer fare, I asked an old friend if this man died of a heart attack, because he certainly seemed healthy only a week before.
She looked at me seriously and said that the man had hung himself. Left a note and house keys with a neighbor he barely knew.
He also left a wife and two teens, who would not be able to collect his life insurance because of the nature of his death. Left a lot of baffled and yes, angry members who could not forgive him for leaving his family destitute.
Left me with mixed feelings. The human in me wished I had straightened things out, talked to him, perhaps sensed the guy had serious issues, forgiven him.
The writer in me impulsively screamed: Man, this would make a great one-act.
Sometimes that writer’s voice shames and frightens me, but like that man’s insatiable desire to perform right to the end, that voice is part of who I am. – Joe Del Priore Joe Del Priore is a frequent contributor. Comments on this piece can be sent to: current@hudsonreporter.com.