Post-Barter Theatre
Back to New York
Screen 1 of 2
Life Once Again in New York
I did not look forward with much enthusiasm to that long bus ride back to New York. And yet the happy experience I had just completed with the Barter Theatre, as well as my excitement about getting back to the big city and seeing Carol again, made the future seem very bright.
Since I had earned but very little money -- actual cash, that is -- during the summer, I arranged for a modest personal loan through a bank in Bowling Green, before I left Abingdon. The money from this loan would sustain me for perhaps two or three weeks in New York, beginning early in September. I could predict approximately what my expenses would be, since I knew that beginning about the middle of the month I would be sharing a small apartment with Bob Thomson, one of my fellow actors in the Barter group.
When Carol met me at the bus station near Times Square, we rushed into each other's arms spontaneously. Without any verbalizing, we both knew immediately that the deep affection we had held for one another since early summer had not abated. There was no need for talk at first. Our warm embrace was enough to assure us everything was all right between her and me, now that we were together again.
There was a slight problem, however, which the bus driver quickly called to our attention. That somewhat lengthy embrace just outside the front door of the bus was blocking the exit of the other passengers. But they were patient and we soon parted. Once inside the waiting room, I held Carol at arm's length and beheld her anew --the first time in three months. She was even prettier than I had remembered. Then when we began our rapid and excited conversation --picking up about where we had left off in June at that same bus station --I realized more than ever how much I adored her.
For the first week back in New York, I did not concentrate on trying to get a job. It was really a short but glorious vacation for both Carol and me. School had not yet begun at Juilliard, and even though she had held several temporary jobs while I was away, she was not now committed to anything except being with me, just as I was to being with her.
In the evenings, we dined and danced again at some of our favorite spots in the Village (Greenwich) and attended one or two grand operas at the Hippodrome, a huge coliseum-type building on the lower east side of Manhattan. (I remember the price of general admission to an opera there was 25 cents!) In the daytime, we slept late, had early lunch at the Automat (for old times' sake) and then went sightseeing -- sometimes visiting museums, other times taking organized tours, some by bus, some by boat around the island -- up East River and down the Hudson.
Carol's father, Dr. Williams, and his new wife of about two months went out with us one evening, at our request. I found them both to be good company, well educated, and quite knowledgeable about New York. He had received his doctorate from Harvard, and as I related earlier was a professor of economics at New York University. An ardent supporter of President Franklin Roosevelt, he told me this country would have fallen into financial ruin if Roosevelt had not closed the banks and taken some other critical steps soon after he came into office just six months before. The second Mrs. Williams was an interior decorator connected with an exclusive shop on Fifth Avenue. She was very attractive ("you can see now why Daddy married her," Carol whispered to me when I was introduced), and both of us liked her.
Although Carol had never said much about her own mother or the troubles that led up to the divorce, I got the distinct impression that she sided with her father and felt her parents' divorce was in the long run best for them both. And it was obvious to me that Carol was very close to her father --definitely his favorite among the three children.
After about ten days, our good times were abruptly ended by some bad news. Carol was informed that she would not be admitted to Juilliard after all. She cried when she told me, and when I saw how unhappy she was, I believe I cried some too. The school's admission office had actually never made a firm commitment to her, but she had been told in June that having passed her piano audition she probably would be admitted in September. What the officials at Juilliard did not tell her at that time was that she would be admitted only if those on the waiting list ahead of her had been taken care of by September 1.
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