Barter Theatre (Cont.)
Screen 2 of 3"It was one of the South's finest boarding schools for girls," he said with pride. "Most people called it a finishing school. My younger sister, Mary Belle, was enrolled here when it closed, and it nearly broke her heart, because it meant she could no longer attend school anywhere. Our family lives on a small farm near Damascus which is only about forty miles from here, and because we are so close to Abingdon, we could afford to send Mary Belle here to Martha Washington as a day student. But now that it is closed, we are not financially able to send her away to school." I could detect a slight lump in his throat as he continued. "Times are bad, Mr. Travelstead, awfully bad, not only for professionals in the entertainment world, but also for farmers and their families. That's why I wanted to start this 'barter' company: to provide employment for at least some of the fine actors and actresses who are out of work, and to bring good, live theatre to many people who appreciate it but who during the last year or two have not been able to afford it. Folks like my mother and father love good entertainment, but now with practically no market for their farm products they just don't have the cash to spend for admission to 'picture shows' or to live stage plays. But these same people. ..," Mr. Porterfield was now sharing his deep concern for the disadvantaged, "living on farms and in small towns in this area of western Virginia, southeastern Kentucky, and north-eastern Tennessee do have other things which we are finding they will gladly exchange for the opportunity to see a good play -- such farm products as canned fruits and jellies, fresh vegetables, chickens, eggs, bacon and cured ham, all of which we can and do eat. And many small town merchants are donating nails, lumber, paint, and canvas which we use to build our scenery, in exchange for tickets to our plays each week. ...Well now, Chester (this was the first time he had called me by my first name, an indication, I hoped, that he might change his mind and take me into the company -- but I was wrong; Bob Porterfield turned out to be a firm man, meaning just what he said) I've talked much too long. Since you are already here and it's six o'clock, will you stay and have supper with us?" When I did not respond immediately, he quickly added, ''as our guest." That settled it and I accepted the invitation with thanks. I had not counted the change in my pocket since arriving at Abingdon, but I felt sure it was not enough to pay for a square meal; and judging by the knowing expression on his face when I had hesitated at first, it was quite apparent Mr. Porterfield had sized up the situation correctly.
As we walked out of his office and down the hall toward the dining room, he said I could sleep free of charge that night in one of the dormitory rooms, "before you leave tomorrow," he added.
The "supper" was far more than the word means for most people. It was a full and delicious meal served by high school students in exchange for tickets to Barter Theatre plays. The dining room was bright, clean, and attractive. I even remember most of the food we had: country ham, fresh green beans, tender corn on the cob, hot biscuits and honey, with rich milk and home-grown peaches for dessert. (If the reader wonders how I can remember exactly what we had to eat that night, I can explain. It was by far the best meal -- in fact, the only full meal --I had had since leaving Kentucky more than two weeks earlier. Carol and I had not starved in New York -- not by any means, but our limited funds prevented us from eating sumptuously.)
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