My best friend, Sarah, and I had a running joke that when we tapped our heels together and chanted, "There's no place like home" that nothing would happen because the Elk River Little Theatre was, in fact, our "home".
After being involved with ten productions in the Little Theatre, not including various talent shows and choir concerts, I can't even begin to imagine how many hours I spent there. I can fondly look back to each show and remember memories that were good, and some that were not so good. The Little Theatre was very well named. It was a small, brick-walled theatre in the Elk River Public High School. It had two isles which split the seats into three groups of a hundred and an extremely tiny light booth in the back of the house. And depending on the show, we hardly had any backstage space; but a school hallway on the right side of the theatre helped wiht our larger cast plays. The scene shop behind the backstage was filled up with costumes and various set pieces and it always had this musty smell that kind of seeped into the rest of the stage area.
My favorite part of the Little Theatre was definitely the stage. I remember my very first play was on that stage and I was so surprised when the lights first came on; I couldn't see the audience! The lights were blinding me, and beyond that, it was just a black hole that protected me from the focused stares of the people in front of me. Every once in a while I could hear someone's loud father laughing at a part that wasn't even very funny, or a little kid start crying with a mom that was too stubborn to take the whimpering child outside the theatre. But other than that, it was like I was in a separate world on stage.
I loved the building, the stage, but what I miss most are the people. They were what made the Little Theatre so special to me. Even though I hated the times we had to have rehearsals in the elementary music room, practice was the part of the day I looked forward to and loved the most; because of the people I was with. Throughout my three and a half years there, I developed bonds with people that I knew would last for a lifetime. With Sarah, with my director, with my friend Mike, and so many others that impacted my life on such a level I will never be able to explain. We didn't just perform together, we lived life together. When our friend was suicidal, Sarah and I were there for him. When Derick's daddy drama was getting too much to handle, we took him out for ice cream. When Sarah and I were having a tiff, Kristin was there to remind we that the friendship between Sarah and I was so strong, that the little thing we were fighting about would blow over in about a day; and she was always right. Or when I found out I was moving to Papillion, my whole "family" at the Little Theatre was there to help me through all of that emotional crap.
My favorite memory of all has to be from my last show. It was Disney's Aladdin Jr. and we had just finished our last performance; we were all smiling and happy with our success. The cast was about the leave the stage after our bow when my director Eileen walked on with a bouquet of roses. I had never instantly gone from smiling to tears before, but wen I saw her I knew exactly what she was doing. With herself tearing up as well, she presented the roses to me in front of the entire audience explaining how, "This year was the last performance for one of You Theatre Workshop's greatest loved ones." By the end of her speech, the entire cast had surrounded me in a huge group hug and over half of them were in tears as well.
For the first few weeks after that, I tried my hardest to keep those roses alive because I felt that if they died, I would "poof" into thin air or melt like the Wicked Witch of the West. It was like if they died, a part of me would die too. My favorite part of visiting Minnesota is when Sarah and I always stop by the Little Theatre and hang out during rehearsals or help out with auditions. Although I miss the old times, I enjoy seeing my close theatre "family" and I have come to learn that I can love the stage no matter where it is.
