Rich

I just found out that a former student died last night. He died in his sleep. He was perhaps 21? 22? That isn't supposed to happen to twenty year olds. Ninety: yes. Twenty: no.

Please allow me to share one of my great memories of my teaching career, one which involves Rich Small.

I was directing 12 Angry Jurors. My assistant director Cristin and I had encouraged Rich to audition, he never had before. He ended up impressing us so much that he was cast as the lead. His first time out! Pretty impressive. He is the juror who holds out on a guilty verdict and eventually changes every other jurors mind. In the midst of reviewing the testimony, Rich pulls out a knife, just like the one that was used in the murder, and he angrily hits it on the table so that it stays, the knife point stuck in the wood. On opening night, my kids are doing great. I'm sitting in the back of the house watching, Rich does his slam and blah blah blah. Then I notice that something isn't right. The dialogue is continuing, but my kids aren't all in their correct places. I hurry backstage and learn that Rich has cut himself on the knife. Everyone it still going. There is blood on the table, on others' clothes, on the set window, someone has knocked on the door of the set to summon the bailiff--they did exactly what they needed to do. It is determined by me that we need to get Rich off-stage. We kill the lights and I run with him to the bathroom while Cristin makes an announcement. There are two doctors in the house.

Rich has to go to the emergency room and I end up playing his part for the rest of the night.

I have showed that footage to every drama class since about what it means to stay in character, to keep on going, to make-do. Rich was a class act. He was in several more plays in high school and went on to act in college. He still had the scar on his finger and it would tingle now and then, a reminder of his time on stage.

See you in heaven Rich!