The so-called Main Building, where the blankets and quilts hang every Fair week, was the scene of operations. Weber figured out an ingenious tar-paper theatre building. Huhn, whose father was in the heating business, sold us a heter at cost -- but no amount of tar paper, heaters, or anything could have kept those audiences comfortable. They came with blankets and mufflers to sit on the park benches, and if they applauded it was largely a matter of keeping warm.

It was during this season we presented our first full-length play, entitled Daisy Mayme.

By spring the building had become so warm that the audiences were as uncomfortable now by reason of the heat as they had been of the cold. President Bessie Bortz (Mrs. Roger Knecht), who was a school teacher then, had to wield that cowbell in her most imperious manner to get the audience back in again between the acts.

It is important also to mention that, in spite of the meager facilities, we had the temerity to stage a drama tournament -- an event which was held for a number of years -- and which never failed to arouse much interest because many city and out-of-town groups took part.

In the meanwhile, Brother Weber had come up with an idea -- rent the Madison Theatre, at Madison and Chew Streets, a neighborhood movie house that had been vacant for years.

Rented Madison Theatre

It was at his prodding that we finally took the step -- a great big step because it meant obligating ourselves to pay a rental of $450 a year.

We were a scared bunch when we signed the lease, and as a result of that very fear we put in probably the most active year in all the history of the group.

We forgot to mention that the place had to be renovated to provide for a stage and dressing rooms. The stage at the Fair Grounds had been supplied us through funds from the Recreation Commission. This stage fortunately was portable and could be moved, but it by no means covered the width of the Madison, nor the depth we had decided upon, and so actors were constantly in danger of falling off the edge.

The Christmas Carol

I know that it is time now for us to get into The Christmas Carol, which we staged that year, because Helen talks about that probably more than anything.

Yes, long before the radio and Lionel Barrymore and Basil Rathbone had discovered Scrooge, Allentown's Civic Little Theatre put on the famous Dickens work, which Brother McCready and your correspondent put into play form. McCready, who had been carrying on as stage manager, played Scrooge, and Weber, who was grandly billed as technical director, was Bob Cratchit.

For the flashback scenes where Scrooge sees his visions, McCready brought his father's garage doors, which were laid over trestles to give additional depth to the stage.

Well, it was a grand production, and we ought to do it some more -- now that we have a theatre of our own.

But to go on, we were now safely launched in the Madison Theatre. It was the season of 1931-32, and here we remained for 15 years, blissfully unaware of our good fortune in having a theatre so well suited to our needs, until suddenly the building was sold and we were again dispossessed.

Wonderful Years

Those were wonderful years, though of course they were not without their headaches, and troubles such as only people who have ever had even the slightest contact with little theatres can possibly realize.

This where Helen is going to take over, because it was she who had to listen to the tales of woe with which we came home night after night....

I was not only a little theatre widow, but John's problems sometimes brought discussions that ran far, far into the night and were not without tears on my part as he paced the floor.

But no matter what the troubles that came along, there was always wonderful recompense on opening night. John could scarce eat his dinner on opening nights, but --once at the theatre, and as the expectant audience arrived, and then, that magic moment when the curtains parted -- everything suddenly would be all right -- just wonderful -- and full reward for the many anxious moments that had gone before.

To John, every play was the best yet. Of course, I had my favorites -- but John says I mustn't go into that.

Those were the days of volunteer directors, and sometimes a director was harder to find than a middle-aged man to play a part -- middle-aged men not taking kindly to the idea of giving up six weeks of their lives to the fol-de-rol of acting -- but always somebody turned up -- and always the right somebody.

"Somebody" Came Along

That's something John and I have often marveled at -- how always when things seemed to be at their worst and the organization seemingly ready to throw in the sponge -- along came somebody to revitalize it -- somebody oftimes literally out of the blue.

It was a grand era -- that era of the Madison Theatre -- in the light of plays produced and the slow, upward climb. The stage was finally enlarged to its full width, adequate dressing rooms provided, real electrical equipment installed, and, finally, the building next door was rented to serve as rehearsal hall as well as a social room for between-act coffee. Too, the bare brick walls were stuccoed, new seats installed and many other improvements accomplished.

And then toward the end of that era came -- of course -- Papa Is All.

John had long entertained the idea of presenting one of the various plays that had been written about the Pennsylvania Germans, but it never seemed to win much favor among the group. Finally, after a period in which he had no longer been very active, the group reached one of those crises and John found himself back, with both feet, as president, a position he had never held.

Concluded