Please indulge me, dear reader, in flights of fancy and romanticism.
Today’s picture is from “The Phantom of the Opera House ” fundraiser at the Homestake Opera House in Lead, South Dakota. The particular pose of the piano player on the staircase brought back a flood of memories dating back to the 1980s.
When Dorinda Daniel, from the South Dakota Historical Society in Pierre, invited me to play piano for the gala, she had no idea what a history I have with the Northern Hills. My husband and I had a bit of a chuckle when we read the lengthy descriptions of the other performers in the program. Mine simply said I was “a piano teacher from Rapid City”.
Although we were early, a small crowd had already gathered. We scurried upstairs to find the piano. At the top of the stairs we were greeted by my husband’s boyhood pal. Throughout the evening he had many similar experiences and I only caught occasional glimpses of him in the crowd.
I settled down to a nice, old, upright grand in the upper galleries and commenced to play. (Frankly, I suspected it was a test to see if I could really play well before they let me perform down in the main staging area.) Soon old friends drifted by - those who remembered me as “M.L.” the society editor who had a column in the Lead newspaper called “Caught by the Muse”. There were others who had known me as the piano player from The Franklin Hotel Dining Room in Deadwood. There were even some who remembered my days of working with various arts activities before coming to the Black Hills - including theatre and public radio. Â
Recent acquaintances (who only know me as an occasional painter) were quite surprised to see me playing piano. Well, the truth is I am getting older now and the past trails me like the train on my gown. One gets to the point of not explaining, just exchanging a knowing glance with someone across the room.
One does get a distinct feeling of “past lives” in that building. I’ve only known about the Opera House for about 25 years. My husband remembers back 40 years when he swam in the pool, went to the movies and learned how to bowl there.Â
Early this week I heard great stories about the balcony “activities” in the 50s from a lively couple who are grandparents of my piano students. She was an usherette at the movie theatre who was kept busy when teenage boys put their feet up on the seats. He claims he only did that to get the attention of the good-looking usherette.
I finished the evening chatting with the Morcoms, who just celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary - and a lifetime in the old mining town. Lead was a heck of a place,  once upon a time. Many of us hope it can be that again.
For all those dear friends in the Northern Hills - thank you. I am glad to be a “part of the past” now.
I did resist telling the other performers that I was playing piano in Lead before they were born. Or, as my husband put it, “When did I get to be the old guy?”
Oh, yes. I almost forgot to tell you. There was a lovely corsage of white roses waiting for me in the Opera House. The card simply said, “Thinking of You.”
 They weren’t from the Art Council, or the Historic Society. No, they weren’t from my husband.Â
 We have our suspicions, but for now we are assuming they were from
 The Phantom.
(Tah. Tah,tah,tah,tah, ta-a-a-a-H.  Tah, tah,tah,tah, t-a-a-a-h.)
I am not making this up. mlt
Â
Â