This one hurts
I'm just getting ready to head home and decided to check out how things are at the Barn Theatre in Kalamazoo, MI, where I first learned to love theatre. Here is what I saw:
In Richland, where he and his wife, Betty, started their theater legacy, more than 100 people gathered Friday morning to celebrate the life of Jack Ragotzy with stories, tears and some laughter.Ragotzy -- whose name is synonymous with the Barn Theatre in Augusta -- began his decades of professional work as an actor, director and producer in 1946. That year, he and his wife started the Village Players of Richland. The troupe later bought an old barn in Augusta, converted it into a theater and grew the business into an Equity summer stock company. The Barn was placed on the Michigan Register of Historic Sites in 1983.
Ragotzy died of a heart attack in his home on the grounds of the theater on Monday, a day before his 82nd birthday.
Ragotzy used to work the arriving crowd and also made cute and charming curtain speeches. He's part of my theatrical heritage. I'll miss him. Click here for a charming image of him with his granddaughter, born just a few weeks before his death.
RIP, Jack. I guess I'll go home now.
Comments
Along with the sadness of learning about Mr. Ragotzy's death came a reminder of happy days experiencing the very best of community theatre. Your Dad's love of all things theatrical was one of the best things we shared, and one of my favorite memories is you crying piteously when your younger brother would fall asleep and miss part of the play. You thereby missed part of it, too, of course, sobbing into your hands.
Posted by: Alice Burns | February 2, 2004 07:41 PM
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Hey, no fair. Those shows started after my bedtime. I seem to remember Ragotzy wearing a wizard's robe during his pre-show talk--was that every time, or just for one show in particular? And how about the time I had to fend off the hippies that wanted me to go up on stage during the finale of "Hair"? Lemme go, I'm sleeping here!
I also remember hearing performers singing in the showers next to the restrooms before the show. And the restaurant overlooking a river where we would eat before the shows. The maitre'd told me they got their water straight from that brown river, and I wouldn't drink it after that. Good times. We should go back there.
Posted by: Chris Jones | February 2, 2004 09:42 PM
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I still do that. I've always watched shows and plays and movies with an incredible focus on nuance and other things that draw me in completely. And if somebody else isn't "getting it," (or, worse yet, "getting it wrong") I get upset. I'll be watching a show and let's say the woman who's spent the whole show worried about her pregnancy shows up at the end with her baby. I'm moved, and the person with me says, "What? Where did that baby come from?" Spoils it for me! Pay a-damn-tention!
I can only imagine how asinine that seems to people watching along with me. Silly.
Posted by: Brian Jones | February 5, 2004 12:36 PM
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The man you call my "shiny new husband" launches into anecdotes (I wouldn't lie) at any point in any movie that reminds him of something he wants to tell me. No matter how crucial or moving that part of the movie is, off he goes. This is only circumstantial evidence if he turns up murdered.
Re "The Passion of The Christ" - now don't go anticipating the worst. I guess next you'll be saying Charlton Heston isn't really God. Also, I think you are leary, not leery, but no dictionary accompanied me to paradise, so I can't confirm that.
Posted by: Alice Burns | February 5, 2004 12:49 PM