Family History Includes New Homes for Old Artifacts

In my role as family historian, I do more than research and document names, dates, and photos for the family tree. 

I also find new homes for old artifacts that have no direct personal connection to the family tree. Not everything has to be in my collection! If relatives aren't interested, I research institutions that collect such items.

By keeping these things out of the trash or garage sales, and donating them to good new homes, I ensure that the items survive into the future. 

And I believe I am showing respect to the ancestors who saw value in these artifacts during their lifetimes. 

Theater buff = lots of programs

My late father-in-law (Edgar J. Wood, 1903-1986) played jazz piano to pay his way through what was then Tufts College. He was quite a theater and music buff. Over the decades, he attended performances in his home town of Cleveland, his college town of Boston, and on New York City's Great White Way. 

Happily, Ed saved nearly every program from plays or concerts he attended, beginning about 1923. And even better, the programs are in decent shape because they've been carefully stored. Now it is my honor and pleasure to find these programs safe new homes in repositories that collect and study such artifacts. 

Ask permission, take inventory, sign forms, send away

As always, it's important to match the artifact to a potential new home. In the case of these Cleveland-area theater programs from the 1950s, I researched historical societies and universities that collect and study items related to Cleveland. 

Narrowing it down, I had an email conversation with a librarian at Cleveland State University. I described how many programs I have and what condition they are in, and provided a photo similar to that above. I highlighted some specific items, such as programs featuring guest stars like Leo G. Carroll (Topper on TV) and Carol Channing (so well-known for Hello Dolly). 

The librarian agreed that these theater programs will fit into his collection, and he will accept our family's donation. If the library doesn't already have a copy, we will include Ed Wood's 1922 yearbook from Cleveland Heights High School, in great condition. 

As part of the process, we must submit an inventory of every program donated. We'll have to sign a deed of gift agreement, which gives full ownership of the artifacts to the repository. Finally, we'll pay to ship to the institution, a small investment to keep these programs in safe hands for academic study in the coming years.

Lots of possible homes for Broadway programs

Ed lived in New York City during the mid-1920s, trying to build a career as a jazz pianist. He went to the theater quite frequently, judging by the dozens of programs he amassed from that period (see photo above). Apart from holes that Ed punched to put these into binders, the programs are in surprisingly good condition for their age.

Finding a new home for these particular programs won't be too difficult. If you do an online search for "university collection of Broadway Playbills" you'll see how many institutions collect such items.

Sifting through the list, I've contacted a Midwest university with a sizable collection of Playbills from the 1960s and later. However, its library appears to have few programs from the 1920s and 1930s. I emailed the librarian, describing what the family would like to donate, and included a photo like this as a sample.

If this university isn't interested, there are many more I can approach. Meanwhile, I'm working on a complete inventory so I can provide lots of detail to any institution that winds up with these items.

My family and I agree that finding new homes for artifacts is an important priority, to honor the legacy of those who came before. My father-in-law Ed would certainly be delighted to know his collection of programs is in safe hands!

Family History at the Movies

Growing up, my husband's family attended many summer theater productions at Cain Park, a large outdoor theater in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. When hubby was a teenager, he and his siblings got summer jobs working backstage. Happily, his sister saved some of the old Cain Park programs inherited from their father, including the one shown above, for The Wizard of Oz. They have many fond memories of those days!

Fast-forward to 1980, when Frank Langella (fresh off his famous Dracula role) starred in a movie based on Cain Park's halcyon days: Those Lips, Those Eyes. The critics didn't think highly of the movie, but in watching it recently, my hubby felt great nostalgia for that theater, as an audience member and as part of the crew.

What made Cain Park special was the lovely outdoor setting, with plays under the stars. And the up-and-coming stars, such as Dom De Luise, who acted for several summer seasons at Cain Park. Above, the cast bio for his 1954 role as the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz. 

My husband just donated this and seven other programs from Cain Park's productions to the special collections room at Cleveland State University, which catalogs and archives local theater artifacts. This is one way we're curating our genealogy collection to keep nonpersonal items safe for future generations. 

"Should be a movie" is this week's #52Ancestors blogging prompt.

Showtime! A Tale of Two Shows

Guest blog today by hubby, who was involved in shows presented at Cain Park, Cleveland Heights, OH and at Berkshire Community College, Pittsfield, MA. He loved the shows so much that he bought the LPs, pictured here.

Annie Get Your Gun had already been a Broadway hit and a blockbuster movie when it was announced for a summer run in Cain Park, minutes from where hubby and family lived in suburban Cleveland Heights. Here's his memory of working that show as a high school student apprenticing with the crew:

"For Annie, I ran a follow-spot from a 20-ft-high brick tower beside the stage. During the action, Annie Oakley and her beau, Frank Butler, are sailing back from Europe. They get hungry, so Annie shoots into the sky (from center stage). Waiting up on the tower, I throw down a prop stuffed seagull. The audience couldn't see me up on the tower and it seemed like a bit of magic when the bird landed on the stage at Annie's feet. (The night it accidentally landed in the orchestra pit, the conductor handed it up to her.)

"On the last night of the run, an "accomplice" and I cleaned out the theater's prop room and brought all kinds of things up to the tower. When Annie raised her rifle and shot, we threw down six or eight different stuffed animals--a pig, a skunk, even a couple of birds. One of the actors took this in stride, ad-libbing, "That's some fine shootin', Annie!" as Annie and the others cracked up.

Years later, he played Lutz, the prince's valet, the only non-singing role in a Berkshire Community College production of Romberg's The Student Prince.

The director cast hubby as the valet because he looked more mature than the college students playing the other roles. And he had a beard (still does, matter of fact), which was important to the serious look of the character.

Leaving the cast party on closing night, hubby and his ex-wife met a woman who stopped them and commented, "I've never been kissed by a man with a beard." Hubby, being very obliging, leaned over to kiss her cheek...but she grabbed him, pulled him close, and kissed him full on the lips. The kiss went on and on and on. Finally he managed to break away. On the way out, his wife asked in an acerbic tone, "Who was that?" Hubby answered truthfully, "I've never seen her before in my life." Wife had the last word: "She seemed to know you!"

52 Weeks of Genealogy: Summer--Backstage at Cain (Pain) Park

This is a guest post by hubby, Wally, about his two summers working backstage at famed Cain Park in Cleveland Heights, OH, during the 1950s. The summer season at that time included 4 musicals (which ran for 2 weeks each). 

Cain Park in the 1940s - Cleveland State Library Special Collections

When I was 17 and 18 and still in high school, I worked as a summer apprentice at Cain Park Theater, and my younger sister worked on the paint crew. During the day, I built scenery and at night, I ran a follow-spot on actors during the shows. Because the stage was 90 feet wide, it needed a lot of scenery to fill it. We built almost a full-size house for Wizard of Oz, for example, and a working merry-go-round for Carousel.

It was a challenge because while one show was running, we were building the scenery for the next and handling backstage duties during the current show's evening performance. (We nicknamed the place "Pain Park" because we worked so hard.) Similarly, the cast had to rehearse the next show during the day while performing the current show each night. The cast included dancers and singers and up-and-coming performers . . . people like Dom DeLuise, for example, who I remember was just hilarious in The Red Mill.

The stage crew had a tradition of trying to distract the cast during the final performance of each show (as a prank). In Annie Get Your Gun, I ran a follow-spot from my position high on a brick tower (see two covered in ivy in photo above). During the show, Annie Oakley and her friends are returning from Europe by ship; they're hungry and Annie shoots into the sky to bring down dinner. I would then throw a stuffed seagull from the tower so it would land onstage. All the audience could see is that Annie shot into the sky and this bird dropped near her feet--except the night I missed and threw it into the orchestra pit. 

During the last performance, a friend was in the tower with me. When Annie shot, we threw every stuffed prop we could get our hands on: a pig, a roast turkey, a cat, a puppy. As these items rained down around the star, one of the cast adlibbed: "My, that's fine shootin', Annie!" Looking back, I'm surprised management didn't throw me out of the theater at that moment.
 

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52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy and History by Amy Coffin is a series of weekly blogging prompts (one for each week of 2011) that invite genealogists and others to record memories and insights about their own lives for future descendants.