This writer had the privilege of working with Milford artist Paul Tibedeau for an entry in the 2019 Village Fine Arts Association Poetry Art Night Exhibit and Competition. Paul’s beautiful Plein Air Painting “Tracks in the Snow” was the basis for our entry, and also became the name for the poem which I composed as my part of the competition. See more of Paul’s works at the Facebook group page Paul Tibedeau Fine Art https://www.facebook.com/groups/546573392637394 .
The Poetry Art Night (PAN) combines visual art with poetry to create a unique dynamic that is a treat for your senses and begs you to linger in the gallery of The Suzanne Haskew Arts Center (The SHAC) and take each entry in slowly. PAN 2020 was greatly impacted by the pandemic and featured a virtual exhibit. Calls for entries and tentative plans for plans for PAN 2021 can befound here: /https://milfordvfaa.org/pan2021/
My thanks to Paul and his wife Joanne, to Susan Gollon, Lish Brown, The Village Fine Arts Association, and The Suzanne Haskew Arts Center and all of the visual artists, poets, judges, and visitors for a great experience and a wonderful evening.
Great job to the cast and crew of Curtains. Mere hours after the final show, and already I Miss the Music you made on the Wide Open Spaces of the stage at the Milford High School Center for the Performing Arts. I’d like to think I’m not the most credulous person, but I have to admit I sure was relieved when I saw Catharine show up in numbers after the opening, ‘cause for a while I was thinking “Wow, The Woman’s Dead! Same thing happened with Olivia later in the show. Then how about Marc? What Kind of Man can hang by his neck like that and then climb down and finish the show? I tell you, Show People are made of tough stuff! It’s not like It’s a Business for any of you: you are all full time students with classes and homework, other activities, and many of you planning ahead for after graduation; you’re all In the Same Boat as far as demands on your time.
With a cast this big, I can’t possibly give recognition to everyone, and I don’t want anyone to feel less important even if they think their role was a small one, because you were all important and all made a big impression on that stage. I do want to give a special acknowledgment the Seniors. This was your last high school musical play and you nailed it. Based on observations from your directors and adult staff, you have also been good leaders of this years vocal music and theatre programs. I know that every group of people is special, so you know that I mean no slight to anyone else when I say that all of you Seniors have a special place in my heart. From the CPA to the Little Theatre, to Muir Middle School, Main Street, and all the way to the Fox Theatre in Detroit, I count the time spent together, the activities shared,, and the friendships that have been made possible because of your kindness and good character as some of my favorite moments outside of time with my own family; each ensconced in it’s own particular glow in my memory. Speaking of family, I hope I can speak for all parents (and grandparents) of theatre students when I tell of the awe and thrill we get when we see our children perform on stage.
Yes, when I think of all that great singing and dancing, romance, laughs, and mystery, and then read each of your names on the cast list, I say to myself “He Did It, She Did It, They Did It.” You did it! You put on a great show. Your hard work, energy, and talent made Curtains the kind of great show that people sit up and talk about at a Coffee Shop, Nights. While it may sound like I’m just Thinking of Missing the Music, I am also looking forward to the rest of the productions for this school year: Pops and Cabaret and Soiree and all of the other concerts, Sense and Sensibility, and Play-Pro. So while the final curtain has fallen on Curtains, we will always have the memories, (plus all of the individual lobby photos, and of course the beautiful images captured by Tara Johnson at tarajonshonphotography.com, ) I look back in fond remembrance, and look ahead to the curtains yet to rise this school year and beyond, and I am hopeful of the opportunity to be there with each one of you.
So now it is almost Thanksgiving Day. Some of you may be staying at home, others may be traveling thisaway or Thataway, but whatever your Thanksgiving destination, whether grandmother’s house or your own, across the skies and coast to coast from Florida to California to Boston Harbor, or somewhere in the middle like Colorado, South Dakota or Kansas,land with your feet on the ground and a smile on your face; with Curtains you have delivered a Tough Act to Follow, and you have earned the satisfaction of a job well done.
P.S. Waiting to retrieve the code to access all of Tara Johnson’s photos, hope to add those images soon!
The sound of rain falling seems to send a chill through the auditorium as the lights on stage rise to a shadowy blue. Through the small, single door at the back of the stage, we see four figures emerge into the dim light. They are quiet, huddled close together; their faces turn about the room, each person taking in the gloomy surroundings; each one affected differently, yet still holding to each other; a family. It is a moment with subtle and simple actions, silent except for the rain, yet even without a word, their fears, their uncertainly and exhaustion is spoken to our hearts and minds. Something else also, and perhaps most of all: as this innocent family enters the annex from which most of them will never emerge a free person, we sense that they are hunted.
Thus are we drawn into The Milford High School Theatre Company’s masterful production of The Diary of Anne Frank. Under the direction of Megan Weeks, the drama ran March 2nd and 3rd at the Milford High School Center for the Performing Arts in Highland. The play, produced by special arrangement with Dramatists Play Service Inc., is newly adapted by Wendy Kesselman from the original by Francis Goodrich and Albert Hackett, which is based on the true story as told through the words of teenager Anne Frank in her private diary.
The Franks, father Otto (Miles Morris), mother Edith (Olivia Hubbell), daughters Margot (Anna Lehrer), and Anne (Lilly Niehaus) the youngest, are a German Jewish family who leave their home and resettle in Amsterdam after witnessing the growth of anti-Semitism in Germany following Adolf Hitler’s rise to power.
For a while things go well for the Frank family in their new home: Otto’s friend and business partner Hermann Van Daan (Alex Lane) helps Otto establish his business in Amsterdam, while the family settles into their new surroundings. Eventually however, Nazi Germany invades the Netherlands. The Dutch surrender, and Amsterdam becomes a German occupied city.
Orders come for Margot to report to a work camp, and the next day the Frank family goes into hiding in the secret annex connected to Otto Frank’s business facility; there to be joined by Hermann Van Daan, his wife Petronella (Emily Herman), and their teenage son Peter (Zach Russell).
Assisting the Franks in their flight, and providing their only direct contact with the outside world are Miep Gies (Hailey Eriksen) and Mr. Kraler (Jonah Bellore).
Shortly, Miep and Mr. Kraler present the Franks and Van Daans with the case of another Jewish man, desperate to escape the Nazi’s. The families agree to accept him into the annex, even though food is scarce and sleeping arrangements are crowded, and so dentist Alfred Dussel (Tyler Capra) soon joins the annex household.
The technical contributions of the student crew were on display immediately. They put in long hours along with the members of the cast, and they deserve recognition for the outstanding production to which they contributed their talent and their time. These students are: Lead Stage Managers Faith Weickel and Allysa Decato, Stage Crew Alexa Cheaney, Student Technical Director Jeremy Hogaboom, Spotlight and Tech. Assistant Zach Damon, Costuming Assistants Maria Weickel and Sam Chmiel, Seamstress Sam Chmiel , who sewed on all of the stars and also helped with make-up, Historian and exhibit creator Tessa Biondo, Hair Stylist Ava Beck, Scenic Painter Rhia Sibson.
As added preparation, and to ensure her students understood the significance of their undertaking, director Megan Weeks took the members of the production on a tour of the Holocaust Memorial Center in Farmington Hills. (https://www.holocaustcenter.org/about) and with the coordination of Harriet and Richard Cooper, hosted a luncheon for the students with Holocaust survivors Paula Marx-Bolton, Erna Gorman, and Micheal Weiss. Hearing first hand accounts of the Holocaust, and getting to spend time with individual survivors made a deep impression on the students. As one cast member said to his parents before an evening show. “The pressure is really on tonight, Paula (survivor Paula Marx-Bolton,) is going to be there.” The students wanted to give a portrayal that was worthy of the memory of all those who perished, and to give their best for one who had survived the horror.
Besides her cast and student crew, Weeks was assisted in the production by Acting coach Michelle White, Technical Director Sarah Martin, Costume Manager Melinda Mihail, Seamstress Norma Chmiel, voice over artists Rich Kynast and Michael Last, Executive Assistant to Ms. Weeks, Megan’s own “Mama” Nancy Weeks, and a host of other grandparent and parent volunteers and coordinators.
The Diary of Anne Frank was photographed by Tara Johnson Photography. All photos included within this work are by Tara Johnson. These excellent images and many more may be viewed and purchased at www.tarajohnsonphotography.com
The story moves on, told largely through Anne’s eyes in wonderfully acted narrative sequences performed by Lilly Niehaus. Lilly beautifully captures the youth, charm, optimism, and occasional irritability of young Anne. To Anne, the move to the annex first seems like a “romantic adventure,” and thanks to Lilly’s captivating portrayal, the audience is able to forget for a while the tragedy that looms, and to enjoy the warm family fellowship, identify with the mundane tensions that surfaced along the way, and even laugh along with the occasional moments of humor.
While telling us the events that happened, Anne’s diary also reveals much about Anne herself, Her awareness and response to the changes happening as she matures toward womanhood, her fears, her sense of guilt that she was still alive, when so many others had perished, even her own candid admission of her emotional detachment from her mother; all these written thoughts are lifted from the page and translated with charm and grace into spoken word by Lilly.
Besides being a story teller, Anne Frank is also a character in this story. There are many instances when Lilly Niehaus, in character as Anne the story-teller, is speaking to the audience, invisible and inaudible to the other characters on stage. Then, whenever it’s time to join the scene, Lilly switches from Anne the story-teller to Anne the character, and picks up her dialogue and action with the other performers. Lilly does this flawlessly throughout the show, never missing a beat.
Milford Theatre goers should be familiar with Jonah Bellore. He has been delighting audiences with his comic antics in such zany roles as Barnaby Tucker in Hello Dolly, Mr. DePinna in You Can’t Take it With You and of course Bud Frump in How to Succeed in Business… Jonah is definitely up to the task of toning down his considerable stage persona to portray the decidedly unzany Mr. Kraler. Jonah’s voice, always clear and articulate, and typically lively in his previous roles, maintains the first two qualities, but for this role he eschews liveliness to take on a still, almost hushed vocal delivery, as though beside the sick-bed of a loved one, or wishing to speak something with great reverence. This seemingly minor alteration contributes to the glow of goodness about the Frank family. Through Jonah’s portrayal, the audience can hear and believe that Mr. Kraler has deep respect and admiration for Otto Frank and his family. This production of Anne Frank certainly benefited from an actor of Jonah’s experience and skill performing the role of Mr. Kraler.
Another talented performer from whom audiences have witnessed great things is Hailey Eriksen. Besides enduring a stay with The Addams Family as Alice Beineke, and keeping her chin up as Russian Grand Duchess in exile Olga Katrina in You Can’t Take it With You, Hailey was most recently seen making us laugh as Irene Molloy in Hello Dolly where, as if her seemingly effortless comedic touch were not enough, Hailey also dazzled us with her beautiful rendition of “Ribbons Down My Back.” In the role of Miep Gies, Hailey neither gets to make us laugh nor delight us with her singing , but she does get to give us an excellent portrayal of courage, empathy, loyalty and steadfastness; again much to the benefit of this production. The early sequence between Hailey as Miep Gies, and Olivia Hubbell as Edith Frank is a powerful, wonderfully acted moment. The contrasting and deeply expressed emotions evident on each actresses face, and their whole positioning with each other, presents a stunning photographic study, as seen in the image below.
Hermann “Putti” Van Daan is the source of much of the tension between the characters confined to the annex. He is sometimes impatient and overbearing, and does not conceal his displeasure with his son Peter. He is even caught by Mrs Frank pilfering bread from the groups meagre supply. Despite his flaws, the actor who portrays Hermann Van Daan still must make him like-able , for Mr. Van Daan is no villain; he has proven himself as a trusted friend to the Frank family, and is fiercely devoted to his wife. Milford audiences will recall how Alex Lane excelled at making the gruff and initially greedy Horace Vandergelder like-able in Hello Dolly, so it is no surprise that Alex takes on this challenge with a convincing performance, one that captures the complex nature of Mr. Van Daan with intensity and controlled vigor. Such is Alex’s portrayal that at times it seems one can actually feel, as well as see, his potent facial expressions; yet in quieter moments Alex can perform a simple action like enjoying the smell of the cigarette Anne made for him with a natural ease that makes us believe he is delighting in the aroma. Alex is also able to portray tremendous vulnerability and tenderness of character such as seen in the sequence captured in the second photo below.
The character of Petronella Van Daan is another challenge. Mrs. Van Daan is a devoted wife and mother. She is possessed of good cheer, and takes on most of the cooking duties without complaint. She has a sense of humor about herself, demonstrated when she produces a chamber pot out of a hat box while declaring, “A place just doesn’t feel like home without it.” Yet Mrs Van Daan is also a flirt, to the point of making Edith and Otto Frank uncomfortable, and despite her devotion to her husband, she can not help making disparaging remarks about him to the others; her character is also written to display a marked degree of materialism, a trait not demonstrated in any of the other characters. Like the character of her husband, that of Petronella Van Daan must generate tension between the others, while still remaining like-able. A performer of exceptional skill and range is required to portray such a character effectively. Last seen in the title role of Dolly Gallagher-Levi leading us on a merry, song and dance filled romp in Hello Dolly, Emily Herman is just such a performer. As Petronella Van Daan, Emily is able to make the audience alternately laugh or cringe, sympathize with, or silently criticize, her behavior. She has moments of intense emotional display, and also moments of frivolity. Emily can engage in fierce dialogue, or, like Billie Burke in a classic screwball comedy film, flit about the stage spouting bits of nonsense. Her performance seems to flow effortlessly through the various demands of her character; yet another indicator of the great talent possessed by Emily Herman .
Alfred Dussel is the last character to join the fugitives in the secret annex, and again his is a complex role. A dentist by profession, Mr. Dussel is deeply religious, and devoted to his beloved Charlotte, from whom he was forced to separate, and whom he longs to see again. He is also sensitive about the fear many people have of visiting the dentist, and he is possessed of a quirky sense of humor that often has him explaining “That was a joke.” ; also, he is highly allergic to cats, a potential problem,as Peter Van Daan has brought his cat to the annex. The role of Mr. Dussel is endearingly portrayed by Tyler Capra, to whom audiences had already been endeared by his portrayal of hopeful bride-groom Ambrose Kemper in Hello Dolly, and xylophone playing Ed Carmichael in You Can’t Take it With You. Through Mr. Dussels’s perturbances with Anne’s nightmares, his often unappreciated attempts at humor, and his peeves (“I hate cats! They give me asthma!”) Tyler gives us a like-able and earnest, yet somewhat awkward man who truly tries to bring comfort and laughter to those around him.
Margot Frank is Anne’s older sister. Compared to “Quicksilver Anne”, Margot is quiet and reflective. She embodies mature qualities at a young age, and she excels in her studies, both attributes which Anne is shown to resent for a time during the play. No longer an adolescent, and more serious by nature, Margot does not find anything adventurous or romantic about the move to the annex. She is immediately shown to be deeply affected by the events taking place. The role of Margot Frank is played by Anna Lehrer. Anna has the challenge of portraying a quiet character who is intense but does not demand attention, and who is serious and with high standards, but who also stays out of the conflicts that surround some of the other characters, and this she does exceptionally well. The facial expressions and physical actions which Anna displays are intense and clearly convey the fear that is so deeply affecting her character. Despite her obvious emotional distress, Margot does not allow this to influence how she treats the others. One of the important exchanges that takes place between the sisters is that in which Margot, the quiet one, defends herself against her sister’s charges. Anna Lehrer delivers Margot’s rebuttal’s calmly, and with heightened, but controlled emotion. “I’m not perfect…”, or “He doesn’t walk all over me…” She is not going to back down, but she is not going to start screaming either. Quiet, but firm. Passionate, but controlled: a difficult and delicate balance crafted with insight and quality of execution by Anna Lehrer.
Peter Van Daan is the teenage son of Mr. and Mrs. Van Daan. He starts the play interested mostly in his cat, and decidedly not interested in Anne’s attempts to get him to dance and to engage in horse play, as when she teases him by stealing his shoes. Like Anne however, Peter also matures over the course of the play, and we soon see the two tentatively embarking on a romance. Zach Russell gives an excellent portrayal of Peter Van Daan. Zach does awkward when Peter is awkward, he does charming when Peter is charming, and he also does awkwardly charming, or charmingly awkward, as the case may be. Of course Zach doesn’t merely “do” these attributes, he does them well, he does them convincingly and he does them throughout his performance in some of the plays most charming and hopeful scenes. Zach’s timing when he trips over the bed after he tells Anne he thinks she is pretty is impeccable. Zach and Lily have a delightful on-stage chemistry, something audiences will remember from their success as Anthony Kirby Jr. and Alice Sycamore in You Can’t Take it With You.
Edith Frank, wife of Otto, mother of Margot and Anne is already emotionally exhausted and near the breaking point when the play opens. Through Edith is expressed the fear that many of us experience as we face difficult times in life. Hers is a relentless character to portray, one that allows the performer little opportunity to come up into the light, but demands they stay down in the dark, where doubt and hopelessness dwell. Such a character demands a performer of strength, of sensitivity, and of endurance, to remain for most of the performance in a role with almost no bright spots, where almost every emotion she was called upon to display, were it to be expressed in mathematical terms, would be less than zero. Such a performer is Olivia Hubbell in the role of Edith Frank. Olivia’s facial expressions are haunting, her wide and terrified eyes seem to sense some as yet unseen horror. Her voice as she expresses her fears that all is hopeless is desperate, frightening, and ragged with emotion. Olivia’s portrayal of Edith’s violent rage when she finds Mr. Van Daan stealing bread is explosive, dynamic, and frighteningly convincing. Even her own daughter Anne rejects her early in the play, putting even more strain on Edith while providing more opportunity for the audience to witness the strength of Olivia’s portrayal. The times Olivia does get to display a smile or to appear relaxed are like gentle breezes scented with flowers amid the vicious winds that torment her character.
Otto Frank: husband, father, successful man of business, liked by his associates and friends, loved by his family, and respected by all. Despite all this, Otto is humble; a patient and listening leader, who sees the worth in all around him, and who is not afraid to express admiration and gratitude to those who look up to him. The role of Otto Frank is performed by Miles Morris, and like every member of the cast, Miles gives an excellent portrayal of a challenging and complex character. As Otto, Miles maintains a deliberate calm throughout most of the play. He is seen at various times reassuring others, or looking up from his reading to monitor the tense moments that flared up between characters, wisely weighing whether to intervene, or to let events play out. Yet when danger threatened, Otto was decisive, and quick to act to protect his family, such as the night loud noises erupted from the work space below, it was Otto who rushed out through the door to find the cause. Through Miles’ portrayal of Otto Frank, we see the complex nature of a figure in authority who is not authoritarian, a leader who listens more than he speaks, and a man who has earned the respect of all around him but who doesn’t need to keep proving it. He is a man burdened with the care of those around him, but above all who loves and cares deeply for his family and all humanity (“If we can save even one life, we must try” as he urges the others to allow Mr. Dussel to share their secret hiding place).
Near the end of the second act Miep Gies hurriedly enters the secret annex. She is flush with excitement. At first there is trepidation. Is it bad news? No, not bad news, the invasion! The invasion? Yes, the invasion! For the first time in the play hope dawns, suddenly and over everyone. Miep has brought a map, and on it they trace out the Allied advance, city by city, until it will reach–Amsterdam! They turn on the radio so thoughtfully provided them by Mr. Kraler, and the voice of General Eisenhower announces that Allied troops have landed on the beaches of Normandy, and proclaims that the liberation of Europe has begun! Liberation! We too are carried away with the elation of the moment, yearning for the tragic end to be averted, silently urging the Allied armies to advance in time.
After this is a calm sequence. Everyone, even Edith Frank seems relaxed. The characters display a sense of hope that we have not seen before. They are enjoying fresh berries and are relishing the imminent prospect of the end of the war, and freedom from being hunted. Freedom to return to their normal lives.
Suddenly the stage goes dark. We hear the effects of troopers storming the house. Shouting; the crashing of a door being broken down. On stage, a scream. More effects of men shouting, sounds of confusion, struggle. Capture. From out of the darkness we hear Lilly’s voice give out a piteous, terrified scream; “Pim!” (Anne’s nickname for her father.) Then, silence.
The darkness continues. Some in the audience begin to stir. Is this the end? No, not the end. The stage lights come up dimly, but enough to reveal the annex, devoid of human life. Through the small single door at the back of the stage enters a solitary figure. Otto Frank.
At this moment some kind of energy, or an aura seems to charge the very atmosphere of the auditorium, as if everyone is suddenly filled up with the same compelling awareness. Something momentous is unfolding onstage. Something terrible, something filled with unbearable pain, something everyone dreads, yet which no one can resist. Even before he speaks, his body emanates grief: his posture, the tilt of his head, the position of his arms and hands. His hands. We watch as he reaches out, his fingers tenderly playing over an object, or a piece of furniture, each one connected to a person he once knew…a person now gone, forever.
Already the audience is grieving with Otto Frank. Not a word has been spoken.
To say that The Monologue belongs to Miles Morris would be an incomplete statement. It also belongs to every member of the cast, to every member of the crew, to the authors, to Megan Weeks, Michelle White, Melinda Mihail, and Sarah Martin, to Holocaust survivors Paula Marx-Bolton, Erna Gorman, and Micheal Weiss, to Harriet and Richard Cooper, to many grandparents and parents who volunteered to make this production. It belongs to the millions who perished, and the millions more who survived, but suffered. It belongs to every one of them because they brought The Diary of Anne Frank to this moment.
This moment is for one performer to deliver. Alone, glowing in the dim blue twilight, the performer is on the stage. Suffering issues from his whole person. Miles Morris delivers the moment. His voice, deep and clear, is filled with terror at each awful word it speaks. In sentences choked with anguish, Miles tells of their betrayal by an unknown informant, the detention, the railroad journey in a cattle car, the separations… then, one by one, the deaths; his friends, Hermann and Petronella Van Daan, Peter Van Daan, Mr Dussel…Edith…Margot… Anne. It is soul- shattering, heart-breaking. The house is in tears. Miles cradles one of Anne’s shoes, his face tortured with pain. He discovers Anne’s diary and reads aloud her words “Despite everything that has happened, I still believe people are good at heart.” Protectively grasping her diary, like a delicate living thing, Miles moves back to the door. He takes the scarf Anne had made for him, lovingly caresses it to his cheek, then gently wraps it around his neck. With a final grief-stricken look at the annex and the memories, he turns and disappears.
Strong, silent men are grateful for the darkness to hide their tears. Other men and women, less silent, struggle to control their sobbing, while some young women do not struggle, but burst into open weeping and continue to do so for thirty minutes. They have not merely watched a play; they have experienced something sublime.
From beginning to end, The Milford High School Theatre Company’s production of The Diary of Anne Frank is an amazing performance.
To every member of the cast and crew, to Megan Weeks, to every person who gave their talent and their time and their energy to this production: Well Done. Not as an afterword, but as a final word, Thank You.
Although the Franks were born in Germany, and Otto had fought in the First World War, this record of life long citizenship and loyal service offered the Franks no protection from the Nazi regime. During World War One, Jews like Otto Frank not only fought for their country as loyal Germans, but their valor was recognized by the Prussian/German military establishment.
The Ordern Pour le Merite, commonly referred to as the “Blue Max” was Germany’s highest award for bravery in the face of the enemy. Recipients of the Blue Max became national heroes, and were widely celebrated . Jewish aviator Wilhelm Frankl volunteered for duty in the German Air Service at the outbreak of World War One, and on August 12, 1916, Frankl became just the ninth airman to earn the prestigious Pour le Merite. To highlight the significance of this achievement, Wilhelm Frankl earned the Blue Max five months before the war’s most famous ace , Manfred von Richtofen, the legendary “Red Baron,” was accorded the same honor. ¹
Following his death in action in April 1917, Wilhelm Frankl, having earned the highest honor for bravery which his nation could bestow, was given a funeral with military honors, complete with German officers and soldiers, carrying floral wreaths , trailing his hearse. Graveside, these German soldiers can be seen standing at attention and saluting as Frankl’s casket is lowered into the earth.¹
¹ (Bronnenkant, The Blue Max Airmen, Volumes 1 and 3, Aeronaut Books)
Anne Frank, having committed no crime, spent the last two and a half years of her life as a fugitive from the government of her native country. She died in captivity, under brutal and inhumane conditions. She was buried in a mass grave.
Only fifteen years separate the end of the German regime that could and did bestow the highest of honors upon the descendants of Abraham, and the rise of the German regime capable of systematically and deliberately treating them with the lowest of inhuman cruelty and contempt, even to the point of attempting to exterminate them.
Fifteen years is less time than Anne Frank lived.
Fifteen years is less time than any of the daughters and sons , granddaughters and grandsons who gave this performance of The Diary of Anne Frank have so far lived.
Thanksgiving Day is almost here, and already the Springington kitchen is filled with delightful aromas, not the least of which are Mrs. Springington’s pies. While Mrs. Springington puts the final touches to a crust, we find Phil right there beside her, savoring the delightful scents.
“Thank you, Phil. Baking certainly does fill the home with a wonderful aroma, especially so close to Thanksgiving.”
“Should I put these others in the box now?”
“No, just let them cool there on the table while I put this one in the oven.”
“That sure is pretty, the way you made the crust like that.
“This? This is called a lattice-crust. I like to do my apple pies this way.”
“It’s like a work of art. I wish I could do something like that.”
“Listen to you Phil, calling my cooking a work of art.”
“What’s so strange about that?”
“It’s just that you’re the artist, Phil, celebrated and renowned. When I think of all the beautiful paintings and murals you’ve created, and then to hear you go on about my baking like it was something special. It’s nothing millions of American housewives don’t do all the time.”
“Then I think it’s millions of American housewives who should be celebrated and renowned. My stuff only has to look good. Yours looks good, smells great, and is delicious. I only wish I could learn to bake a pie like that.”
“It’s not so hard Phil, I could teach you.”
“Really, you would do that?”
“Sure, in fact we’ll start right now. We need to make one more pie for those kids at the orphanage, and this is where you learn to bake, Phillip Wellbright.
“Okay, I’m ready. What do I do first?”
“Well, first thing is, better put on this apron, we don’t want to mess up your clothes.
“This? You want me to wear this apron?”
“That’s right.”
“You mean with the flouncy ruffles, and the flowers? Don’t you have one that’s a little more plain?”
“Don’t you like that apron? It’s Alice’s favorite. She always wears it when she helps me in the kitchen.”
“She does? ”
“Yes.”
“Well, if Alice wears it, I will too. These flowers kind of go good with her eyes, don’t they?”
“They do, and they don’t look bad on you either, Phil. Here, let me help you tie that in the back. There, very handsome.”
“Handsome? I don’t feel handsome. I feel kind of silly. If it weren’t that this were Alice’s favorite apron, it think I would take it off.”
“Nonsense Phil, you look fine. Besides, if you’re going to work in the kitchen you’ve got to wear an apron to protect you clothes. You don’t want to go walking through town with flour and dough all over your pants and jacket, do you?”
“No, I suppose not. I just remembered, I have a smock I use sometimes when I’m painting. It’s cut plain and is just solid white, I could run next door and get it.”
“Stay right where you are, young man; we have work to do. Are you going to let your vanity get in the way of baking pies for those children?”
“No, not when you put it that way, Mrs. Springington. I feel kind of ashamed of myself. I’ll keep this apron on, only I hope no one sees me like this.”
“That’s fine, now let’s get started–why hello Mr. Elliott.”
“Hello Mrs. Springington. Hello Curly.”
“Frankie, when did you get here?”
“I just walked right up the back steps a minute or two ago. It looked like you and Mrs. Springington were putting on some kind of fashion show, and I didn’t want to interrupt, so I just kind of slid in quietly.”
“I’m teaching Mr. Wellbright to bake, Mr. Elliott. You’re free to join us if you like.”
“Sure, this is too good to miss.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing Curly, just that I didn’t know you had such a keen interest in baking. It looks like you’ve really gone all out.”
“Never mind how I look right now. I didn’t have any interest in baking until a little while ago. It was Mrs. Springingtons pies that did it.”
“They do look delicious don’t they? And the smell! Mmm-mmm!”
“I’m glad you agree. So now you understand why I’m wearing this, this apron here, to keep the flour and dough from messing up my clothes.”
“Very practical, Curly.”
“That’s right, practical. A man has got to consider these things you know.”
“Yep, practical, and pleasing to the eye too. I kind of like the way those ruffles seem to compliment your wavy hair.”
“Watch it Frankie!”
“And the way your baby-blue eyes pick out the delicate periwinkle in those dainty little flowers.”
“How would you like a delicate punch in the dainty little nose?”
“My, my; aren’t we the truculent one?”
“Truculent? What’s this, more of your crossword vocabulary?”
“No, I owe this one to a tuba player from Yonkers named Anthony.”
“Yonkers? Since when have you ever been to Yonkers?”
“I’ve never been to Yonkers, Curly, but that’s where my pal Anthony the tuba player is from.”
“I never know when to believe you, Frankie. You and I have been best friends for a long time, how come this is the first I’ve ever heard of this truculent tuba player?”
“Anthony isn’t truculent, Curly. ”
” Now I’m confused. I thought you said he was truculent.”
“No, I never said that. He introduced me to the word and told me it’s meaning. It’s got a nice sound , doesn’t it? Truculent. I like the way it rolls around on the tongue. Truculent. Why don’t you give it a try?”
“Listen, Frankie, I’d love to go on with the English lesson, but right now I need to get back to helping with the pies. Mrs. Springington has been very patient while we’ve gone off on our little diversion, but now, if you don’t mind, it’s time for me to learn how to bake.”
“Don’t mind me boys. I always enjoy listening to you two. You remind me of a couple of characters on the radio.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Springtington, for being so understanding, but Phil and Frankie are signing off for now, so please, lead me to the oven.”
“First we need to make a fresh batch of dough for a new crust. Measure out two cups of flour into this mixing bowl.”
“Alright. Two cups, just like this?”
“That’s right, level it off so you get the correct measure.”
“Okay. One, and two. What next?”
“Now we cut in two-thirds cup of this vegetable shortening. You’d better let me show you how first, then you can take over. You take the pastry blender like this, see, and cut the shortening in like this, till it makes little pieces, about the size of a pea. Now you try it, Phil.”
“Okay, like this?”
“Yes, you’re doing fine, Phil.”
“How many more pies are we going to bake today, Mrs. Springington?”
“This apple pie is the last one, Phil, eight pies total. Four pumpkin, and four apple.”
“I can hardly wait to taste them.”
“We’ll have to wait until Thanksgiving. Remember, these pies aren’t for us.”
“That’s right. But they are a nice, delicious preview of the feast. Do you mind if I go peruse the gallery again and take a deep breath of those warm, fresh-baked apple and pumpkin pies? ”
“Go right ahead. I’ll finish mixing this dough.”
“Just look at those delicious beauties, would you, Frankie. Take a deep breath of that warm, spicy, aroma. Look at them, all lined up, one, two, three, four, five, six– wait a minute, one, two, three, four, five, six. Six? Mrs. Springington, come here!
“What is it, Phil?”
“One of our pies is missing.”
“What? One, two, three, four, five, six. Why so it is. What could have happened?”
“Frankie, don’t just sit there looking surprised. You were right here by the table, did you see what happened to that pie?”
“Who, me?”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, what’s that on your mouth, and what’s that on your tie? Frankie, did you eat that pumpkin pie?”
“Of course not, Curly what do you take me for, a pig? I only ate a piece of it. The rest is right here, in the pan I just happened to slip behind my back for a moment.”
“You call that a piece? Frankie, you ate half the pie!”
“Let’s not quibble over minor details. Besides, what’s one pie, more or less, among friends?”
“That’s just it, Frankie, those pies aren’t for us. Mrs. Springington has been busy all day baking those pies for the children at the orphanage.”
“For the children?”
“Yes.”
“At the orphanage?”
“That’s right.”
“When I turn around, give me a good solid kick in the seat of the pants, would you, Curly? Mrs. Springington, I’m awfully sorry.”
“It’s alright, Mr. Elliott. I have everything I need and enough time to bake one more pumpkin pie.”
“Then I haven’t ruined everything?”
“Far from it, Mr. Elliott. I always enjoy your company, and the fact that you helped yourself to the pie just shows how welcome you feel in my kitchen. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Springington.”
“You can help Phil carry the pies to Mr. Springinton’s market. Alice is there, and I believe your friend Olivia is as well.”
“That sounds great, Mrs. Springington, anything to help.”
“I’m glad you said that Frankie, because you’re going to do more than help me carry those pies. It’s time for your first baking lesson, partner.”
“Me, learn to bake?”
“That’s right. Right here at Mrs. Springington’s elbow, just like me. And the first thing you gotta do is put on this apron.”
“This one, with the pink stripes, and the dainty buttercups?”
“That’s right, and don’t forget the delicate lace trim, and the poofy shoulders. What do you say to that?”
“Well, if I must, I must.”
“Here you go, slip into this, and hold still while I tie it nice and secure in back. There. Would you care to step through the living room for a moment and take a look in the mirror?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“That’s the spirit, Frankie. Right this way, in front of the mirror. There you are.”
“And there you are too. I think I look cuter in mine.”
“Never mind who’s cuter, you were giving me a hard time about wearing this apron, but now look at you. I bet you’re feeling pretty truculent yourself right now.”
“Me, truculent? No Curly, I don’t feel truculent. My boy, let me tell you something; a man has to learn to take these things in stride, to keep his cool, and remember himself. So, as I stand here beside you, looking at our reflections in the mirror, I do have to admit that this is not my best look, and you do look rather silly, but far from being truculent, as my pal Anthony would say –”
“The tuba player?”
“Yes, as my pal Anthony would say, I would describe myself as feeling blithe.”
“Blithe?”
“That’s right.”
“Mrs. Springington, would you come over here for a moment?”
“Yes Phil, what is it?”
“Take a look at Frankie.”
“Cute, isn’t he?”
“That’s not the point, Mrs. Springington. Frankie describes himself as feeling blithe. What say you to this?”
“I think the description fits him perfectly at the moment.”
“You do?”
“Yes. You look pretty blithe yourself, Phil.”
“Now that you mention it Mrs. Springington, I am feeling rather blithe. Are you feeling blithe, Mrs, Springington?”
“Well of course, how can I help it? Just look in the mirror.”
“I guess that makes us three blithe bakers. What are we waiting for? Back to the kitchen! Mrs. Springington, after you.”
“Gentlemen, to your spatula’s. Forward, march.”
“Frankie, next time you see your pal Anthony, give him my regards. I hope his Thanksgiving is as happy as this one is shaping up to be. In fact I want to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. May yours be filled with peace and the fellowship of friends and family; may your heart be filled with gratitude, and may your thanks reach out joyfully to Heaven.”