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1968 was a big year in the Music Entertainment industry: Hootenannies were the craze. It was the year for groups like The Limelighters, The Chad Mitchell Trio, Johnny Cash and The Journeymen; folk-like music was the in thing. I
first fell in love with country (folk music) when we came to America in 1947. Records by "Gene Autry" and "The Sons of the Pioneers" were some of my first prized possessions.
From my early youth, I always had a bit of salesmanship coursing through my veins. I guess it came from my mother's side of the family.
They were international tulip bulb sales people and in the Hootenanny craze I saw a great sales vehicle to help me build a high school choir program. I made an appointment to see the high school principal, a rather conservative type. (I could hardly wait, I was so excited.) I think I scared him a little.
"What do you want now, Lamain?" he said (he was getting used to the idea of me pushing his buttons a little).
"I want to do a Hootenanny for the kids," I replied.
His expression said it all.
"What in the …….. is a Hootenanny?" he asked.
He really didn't have a clue. His thing, his only thing, was athletics. I explained that in a Hootenanny, the students would be sitting in a circle around the performers on the gym floor, and would listen to, and sing along with, "country-western"-like musicians.
He almost had a stroke as he inquired about my mental health. I assured him that we would require the kids to remove their shoes (so as not to scuff up his precious gym floor).
It took some salesmanship on my part, but I finally convinced him to give it his blessing. We had the Hootenanny, the kids loved it, and the ticket sales more than paid the bills. Most of all, it awakened their interest in performing; and I soon learned that I had the proverbial "tiger by the tail."
It had released something that, in the words of Frost, "made all the difference."
The Hootenanny's spell worked its magic, and within a few days, during our choir rehearsal, one of the students raised his hand (I had strict rules, brought over from my Creston Choir days about "no talking" during rehearsals or performances) and he asked, "How about doing a musical?"
In the total silence that followed, I said, "A musical? Like?" and he replied, "Like 'The Sound of Music?'"
Seeing my dumbfounded look, he seized the moment, and explained, "I have a cousin in Mount Pleasant, and they do a musical each year, and this year they are doing 'The Sound of Music.'"
We could go up and see how they do it, and then we could do it here, at Forest Hills."
I almost asked, "Are you nuts"? I did say, "Forest Hills has never done a musical. I have never done a musical. You have never done a musical."
Then I asked, "Are you nuts!?!?!?"
My choir rehearsal was about to disintegrate. I quickly ended the speculation and did my best to guide our musical ship back on a safe course (away from Broadway) but it was too late. The horse was out of the barn!.
After class some of the students wanted to stay and "kick the Broadway can a little further down the road", but, fortunately, I had other appointments lined up.
I sent the wannabe Broadway stars on their way and I tried going back to my normal, busy routine. Unfortunately, the "Sound of Music" seeds had been planted and started to grow, rapidly. My mental artistic soil was ready for planting and I soon found myself writing notes to myself:
– How and where do you apply for a performance license?
– Where do you purchase the scripts?
– How do you do auditions?
– What do you do, as a director?
– The staging?
– Backdrops? Lighting? Accompaniment?
– Costumes? Tickets? Choreography? etc, etc, etc.
I asked myself, over and over again, "Are you nuts?"
I had never seen a full-fledged Broadway drama or musical. Netherlands Reformed people did not participate or attend such "worldly" entertainments.
When I attended Creston High School and sang in the choir, I once did have a minor part (I was a shepherd) in the Christmas play. I got to wear a shepherd's cloak, hold a shepherd's staff and kneel at the manger, but that hardly qualified me to now direct a world renowned Broadway musical.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that (1) I was really intrigued with the possibility of doing it, and (2) I needed a lot more information.
Needless to say, "I was hooked," but where to begin?
I spent some time on the phone, and called the high school in Mount Pleasant and asked to speak with the music director. The person answering the phone gave me the music director's name, Bill Johnson, (not his real name) and informed me that he, Mr. Johnson, was both the band as well as the choir director.
I was connected, and soon I was explaining the reason for my call. Bill Johnson fortunately had some time to talk to me and I poured out my heart. I was totally open with him and explained my lack of knowledge, my kids' faith in me to lead them, and our combined ambition to make our dream a reality.
When I finally stopped talking, there was a long pause and then Bill said, "You know, I know exactly where you are coming from, and how you feel. I was in your shoes a number of years ago before I directed my first play, and I was fortunately guided by an area high school drama coach who took me under his wing and saw me through my first production.
"I have never forgotten that man, and I pledged to him that I would always do the same for anyone who came to me for help. I am happy that you called me, and I am thrilled to be able to help you".
I knew at that very moment that Forest Hills and I were in good hands and that they, and I, were ready to learn!.
The Hills, "Forest Hills", was going to be alive with "The Sound of Music."
EDITOR'S NOTE: Gerrit Lamain is a former Copper Country resident who served as a music professor at Suomi College. He has published a book, "Gerrit's Notes: A compilation of essays," which can be found on Amazon. His email address is gerrit.lamain@gmail.com.