Don't Tell People

   My Mom taught me at an early age that you should never tell people when they are going to die. Even if they are actors portraying historical characters, apparently this is considered bad form. It turns out, I have not yet learn this lesson.

    First, let's backtrack a bit. There's an amazing recreation of the Mayflower and of Plymouth Plantation where each employee is both an actor and a historian portraying a specific Pilgrim. At least back in the 1980s, the performances were so believable that I really grew to care about each one. I laughed when they marveled at the modern machines of the devil (cameras) but was also concerned when they wondered about how they would find food for the winter. 

   Ever the pragmatist, I stepped into the bookstore and found the chronicles of each voyager. Maybe I could warn these settlers of their fate so they could stop worrying...or enjoy their last days.

   I can only imagine how the actors felt when this whippersnapper of an eight year old came and spoke of upcoming deaths from famine or disease.  I know for a fact that my mom was embarrassed!

    Well, over thirty years have passed and last night I had the fortune of watching a play about Judge Biddle. My friend David was directing the show and Dawn was the stage manager, so I would have gone anyway, but the historical context of "Trying" was of particular interest to me. Here was a man who was Attorney  General under FDR and who presided over many of the Nuremberg Trials. Furthermore, the female protagonist was a bright young woman who considered herself a "prairie populist" who believed that a person's worth should be judged based on growth. By intermission, I was enchanted.

I knew that the play had a lot of foreshadowing of the Judge's death. He said openly and clearly that he was in his last year of life. However, I didn't want him to die. 

I looked at the scene list for Act Two and saw that it ended in June of 1968. A quick Google search supplied the critical information: he died in October.

With a big sigh of relief, I announced to everyone in earshot (I.e. The whole audience) that they shouldn't worry; he wouldn't die in the show.

And of course, wouldn't you know, for poetic license, the final scene is after his death. I was outraged! He still had four months to live!!!

(It was a magnificent play and a brilliant performance. I can't recommended it highly enough.)

Mom pointed out that I never did learn all the lessons she has been trying to teach me!