One Year On Broadway: Finding Ourselves Between the Sand and the Sea

"Discovering Daniel"

June 2017
Cleveland, Ohio

JESSE

I checked my inbox. My breath caught when I saw an email from Ken Davenport, the founder of Davenport Theatrical Enterprises. Not expecting to hear back at all, let alone this soon, I immediately clicked on the message. It had only been a day since I had decided to email him on a whim. It was a ridiculous notion. I didn't know anything about Broadway, unless belting out show tunes in the car with Kathy counted, but something had told me to push "send" anyway.

As I read his response, my eyes skimmed over everything except the words, "Jesse, I would love to have you come on board as an investor in the revival of Once on This Island on Broadway."

I read it again and smiled.

Leaning back in my chair, I thought about that cold November evening twenty-five years earlier. It had been almost a lifetime ago, but I remembered so clearly the night that brought Once on This Island into our lives.

*****

November 24, 1992
Wharton Center for the Performing Arts
Michigan State University
East Lansing, Michigan

JESSE

It was the Tuesday night just before Thanksgiving break at Michigan State University, where I was a junior. My boss, Nina Silbergleit, at The Wharton Center for the Performing Arts had scheduled me to usher the evening performance of the national tour of Once on This Island, the musical.

I loved my job as an usher. Escorting people to their seats wasn't too difficult, and it was decent pay, but the real reason to work at the Wharton Center was to see the musicals that came through on tour. As an MSU student, I couldn't afford to buy tickets regularly, but as an usher, I was allowed to stick around after everyone else had been seated and see the shows for free.

That night, though, I wanted nothing more than to stay in and sleep, to forget the world around me. It had been a long, difficult semester. The weight of missing my girlfriend, Kathy, crushed me as if a large boulder had fallen on my chest. My body hurt all over and I was exhausted. Maybe I was coming down with something. With every passing moment I felt more terrible. Someone else should take my shift. My heart ached too much to go anywhere and I'd never even heard of this musical.

Picking up the phone to find a sub, I started to dial the number of another usher. Then, not knowing quite why, I put the phone down, and decided to go in to work. If I left the theater as soon as everyone was seated, I wouldn't have to be there long anyway. I could forget the world later.

My section that night was mid-way back in Orchestra Left. Time ticked by slowly as I escorted eager, mostly elderly patrons dressed in their Sunday best to their seats. Hiding my weariness, I feigned an air of excitement so as not to dampen the mood.

Thankfully, the house lights went down right on schedule. I waited, standing near the orchestra door in case any late arrivals needed assistance and focused on the stage. Maybe I would want to see this show the next time it came around.

Thunder crashed echoing through the cavernous theater. A flash of lightning lit up the indoor sky, and a young girl screamed as hurricane winds ripped her from her mother's arms, threatening to drag her into the sea.

But the gods who ruled her island in the French Antilles had a different plan for the little girl Ti Moune. While she watched in terror as her mother disappeared into the angry churning surf, the gods sheltered young Ti Moune high in the branches of a mango tree.