Kearney Community Theatre 4

This is the fourth installment in a series of articles on Kearney Community Theatre, highlighting the stories remembered and told by the people who have had a hand in making KCT the place it is today. Stay tuned for more! Kearney Creates is fortunate to have gathered some of these stories here, but we would love for you to contribute your own, if you have them! With the involvement of so many generations of Kearneyites at KCT, we know there are countless stories out there, waiting to be told, remembered, and discovered.

The history of Kearney Community Theatre could, of course, be summed up in a quick paragraph of concise description, but it would be missing the vital element that truly makes this institution a gem — the volunteers and their stories. And capturing that requires more than a single article. The collection of memories is becoming more important every day, as our world is consumed with the advancement of technology and the creation of false realities through artificial intelligence. Preserving the integrity of live theatre — something with an inherent energy that simply cannot be replicated by a computer — is not only valuable, it’s a critical tether to our humanity. In 1989, after five exciting years of talent-filled plays and increasing community interest, Kearney Community Theatre was beginning to experience growing pains in the old church on Avenue A. It was time: not to simply find a new home — but to build one.

Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice, and Kiss Me Often Enough
(A memory from Stan Dart)

When KCT made the decision to build the new theater, we sought grant funding from several philanthropic groups. One was The Kiewit Foundation, from whom off-and-on KCT had received small grants before. I (Stan Dart) wrote a Kiewit grant requesting a $60,000 matching grant – they would give us $60,000 if we would raise $60,000 to match it. With Kiewit, you could only apply once every 2 years. We got the grant into them by the application deadline, but a month or so later we got a letter from Kiewit denying our request. However, Kiewit’s comments made reference to various KCT people who were not active and projects that KCT had previously applied to Kiewit for support.
So, I called Kiewit to ask for clarification of what grant request they had reviewed. A couple days later they responded with an apology: “Yes,” they had mixed up our big grant with another smaller one we had previously applied for. “Sorry,” but we could reapply in the next round of applications – which was 12 months away. Waiting 12 months would have been a disaster: we were already right in the middle of a building campaign. Again, I asked if they would go back and review the $60,000 grant that we DID get in on time. A week later, Kiewit notified KCT that they would fund our $60,000 requests as well as count any funds we have raised up to that time as part of the matching challenge. The next day, the Baldwin Foundation gave us $40,000 which we were able to pair with about $30,000 we had already raised. So, in one week we got $60,000 from Kiewit, $40,000 from Baldwin, and our $30,000 more than covered the match from Kiewit by $10,000. Eventually, the fund-raising effort reached $200,000 and we broke ground in early 1990.

Red Tape Comes Before a Red Carpet
(A memory from Stan Dart)

Once construction was completed, the State Fire Marshall had to inspect and certify the building as fit for occupancy. Although we had a liquor license from the old theater, we could not transfer the license to the new building without a Fire Marshal’s recertification. AND we also could not open the theater to the public unless the Fire Marshal gave us a Certificate of Occupancy.

We had scheduled the first show for a Thursday night in early October. The Fire Marshall didn’t come to do the inspection until Tuesday just before opening.

The Fire Marshall gave us the permit but he was from North Platte and had to go back there to complete his paperwork, then send the permit to us by mail. Under pressure, he did agree that we could drive out to North Platte and pick up the permit the next day. So, someone from KCT drove to North Platte Wednesday morning to get the certificate. On Thursday morning, I (Stan Dart, who served as Bar Manager for 25 years) grabbed the Fire Marshall’s Occupancy Certification and drove to Lincoln to the ever-so-slow State Offices to get the Liquor Permit, making it back to Kearney about 4:30 to set up the bar for the night’s opening performance at 8:00. There were some reports that later that night several of us got really drunk after the show…but it could have been just the ghost sisters getting rowdy.

Theater of the Absurdly Helpful Heroes
(A memory from Stan Dart)

From the early 1990s through 2007, Sandy Janssen was a frequent artistic director for shows. Her partner was always MaryAnn Lawson in the role of Assistant Director/Stage Manager. Once a production goes into performance, the Stage Manager is headquartered backstage, operating from behind the set and from the Green Room — where actors locate to be ready for their entrances. One of the best Stage Managers ever, MaryAnn passed away after a short battle with cancer. At the Annual Meeting following Mary Ann’s passing, just shortly after a redecoration of KCT’s Green Room, the Board of Directors dedicated it as “The Mary Ann Lawson Green Room!”

Two Christmas Shows
(A memory from Jeff Knapp)

Do you have to be in the theatre to find any of this stuff funny? One of my funniest memories is of A Christmas Carol. It was my first show, one of a cast of six. Chuck Peek played Scrooge, I played Fred and a couple of ghosts (no, not the ghosts from the old theater—the ghosts in the Dickens story!). All my funny memories seem to involve Phyllis Haverkamp.

The set had a not-too-stable stairway that went up to a loft that we used as Scrooge’s bedroom. That is where I was supposed to swat Scrooge to wake him up. Apparently, because I didn’t want to leave a mark on a fellow cast member’s hind end, I was not doing it hard enough. Working it up so it was hard enough was plenty funny, even though audiences never got to see it. What they did see, on those same stairs, was not funny at the time, especially to Phyllis Haverkamp, but seems to have been remembered as pretty funny afterwards: she tripped on her robe taking the steps and fell down the stairs, catching herself in time to be able to finish the show!

But, flash forward to a different Christmas and the holiday production of A Christmas Story, you know, the “Ralphy, you’ll shoot your eye out” play. Here, Phyllis played the school teacher, and in one scene, the lights came up on the school room. All the children were there in place, but no Phyllis. Lights up, school room full of kids, and no teacher! Phyllis covered her late entrance so well that the audience did not even notice, but for what seemed to the rest of the cast a long moment, they were freaked out wondering what happened to Phyllis!

Witness for the Defense
(A memory from Chuck Peek)

We had a wonderful time in both the rehearsals for and the performances of Inherit the Wind, the not-very-historical-but-still-great play about the Scopes Monkey Trial. I put on several pounds just practicing giving lines that could be understood while eating a piece of fried chicken and exclaiming that the lay-out of food was “splendid, splendid.” Crowd scenes are one of the many things hard to bring off in live theater and Rick Marlatt was a master of choreographing such scenes. But the crowd has gone home, the trial is on, the lights come up on an interrogation. My character, Matthew Harrison Brady in the show, William Jennings Bryan in the original, is standing on the stage-right point of KCT’s thrust stage looking out at the audience. The boy testifying, Howard, is seated in the witness chair center stage, also looking out at the audience. “Now, Howard,” Brady opens the scene, “tell us…” and at this point Brady turns to face the witness. But in one performance, I turned to find there was no Howard in the chair. This explained why, at this serious scene, the audience had begun to laugh! I don’t recall now whether the cue to enter had been missed or Howard (I still know the adult he became) had a wardrobe malfunction, or whatever. All I recall was stammering out something everybody already knew: “Well, it would appear that Howard is a bit late in answering the summons of the court.” And fortunately, the cast all picked up on it and joined the laughter.

Fiction Is Full of Characters; in Theater, the Characters Play the Roles
(A memory from Jeff Knapp)

I played Captain of the ship in Anything Goes, playing opposite Kelle Hunt, who appeared in lots of KCT productions. In this show, Kelle started calling me “Cave Man.” So, I started calling Kelle “Hell Cat.” Neither of us knew then that those names would stick with us ever after. Whenever I see her in the community, I still call her Hell Cat and she still calls me Cave Man. Let me add, though, that sometimes I more politely call her Mrs. Hell Cat.

Mary, Mary, What’s the Other Haeberle Up To?
(A memory from Jeff Knapp)

For the reprise of On Borrowed Time, Mary Haeberle had her script up in the costume shop. She would review her lines prior to each performance. On the final Sunday matinee, husband John took two small blocks of wood and nailed her script shut! Some hilarious results! I learned early on that if you had a line that followed Mary’s and you were waiting for your cue, you had to be adaptive, because sometimes the lines were different each and every performance! Not a problem, of course, for Mary…she never missed a beat!

 

Please see the following related Articles:
Kearney Community Theatre 1 of 3
Kearney Community Theatre 2 of 3
Kearney Community Theatre 3 of 3

This is Your Cue!
Do you have stories from this era of Kearney Community Theatre, in the early days of the building on Plaza Boulevard? If so, we would love to collect them. Whether you’d like to write them out and send them to us, or have one of our editors listen to you tell your tale, we are excited to immortalize them here at Kearney Creates!