New Bedford High School’s Little Theater Sparked Memories
The year 1973 was a lifetime ago. Fifty-one years ago, to be exact.
It was still years before the launch of my radio career (1977) and my marriage (1991). I had long, thick, dark brown hair back then, no jowls, no arthritis, and no clue about who I was or where I was going.
I shipped up to New Bedford High School from Normandin Junior High in 1973. The "new" high school had just opened the year before. Like me, NBHS was young and full of possibilities.
I remember being amazed by how large my new school was. How could I possibly make it from the gym to a class on the third floor of Tan House in five minutes?
Being in a larger school with older kids provided opportunities. There was more to do and experience at New Bedford High than at the old Abraham Lincoln Elementary School.
Half-blind, certifiably deaf and uncoordinated, I was not the most sought-after kid by the massive sports department. At that point, I hadn't considered a career in the media so the Crimson Currier was out. I love music but sing like a strangled cat and have no tone for instrument play.
Friends encouraged me to join them in pursuing the drama club to socialize and meet new people. I followed along and some of the people I met are friends to this day, including the former drama coaches Armand Marchand and George Charbonneau.
I also had Marchand and Charbonneau as classroom teachers. Occasionally, classes were held in the high school's Little Theater located south of the Bronspiegel Auditorium near D Block.
The Little Theater was a magical place where we learned to express ourselves and build confidence. Rather than reading West Side Story, we performed it in class in the Little Theater. It was a gathering place during rehearsals for drama club productions and for learning about life in the theater – and ourselves.
While visiting New Bedford High School recently, I wandered off alone to rediscover the Little Theater. It was the first time I had entered the theater in 48 years. There it was, exactly as I remembered it, as though time had not touched it.
As I closed the door behind me I could almost hear the upright piano, right where I remembered it, and the voices of my classmates – young, ambitious and with so much hope for the future.
Here's to the Little Theater. You're looking good, old friend.
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