After leaving Pioneer Playhouse, I realized I had no idea what to do next. I didn’t have a job or a place to live other than with Mom and Dad. I didn’t know whether I wanted to move back to Toledo or try to find work elsewhere. I did have a lead in Cincinnati for a lucrative dance job but it wasn’t in ballet. I hadn’t seen Sue since her wedding, and Mike had almost six weeks to kill before school started in New York. So Mike and I decided to visit Sue while we checked out the job scene. We were determined to stay together as long as possible. At this point, I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
Sue was doing fine. She and her hubby, Mike, were living in an apartment close to UC while Sue was getting her Masters. Mike had found a good job as a restaurant manager. They were looking at houses and hoping to buy one soon. They had a new little black poodle named, Fred, who was adorable. They were so settled; I was jealous.
My friend and former modern dance teacher, Elaine, was working as a Las Vegas-type show dancer at the newly opened Beverly Hills Supper Club. She had contacted me about auditioning and assured me the pay was very good even if the hours weren’t; she sometimes worked until 3:00 a.m. When we got to Cincinnati, I called Elaine and she arranged an audition for me and tickets for me and Mike to see the show. The audition went fine—I had the job if I wanted it. I wasn’t convinced I wanted to do that type of dancing; but by seeing the show, I knew I would get a better idea of what it would be like.
The Beverly Hills Supper Club opened in 1971 in Southgate, Kentucky, about 6 miles outside of Cincinnati. Its headliner talent was mostly from Las Vegas, Hollywood, New York and Nashville. On May 28, 1977, it became the scene of the third deadliest nightclub fire in U.S. history when 165 people died and over 200 were injured. The fire started in the Zebra Room where a wedding reception had taken place earlier in the evening. By the time the fire was detected, there were as many as 3,000 patrons and 182 employees inside the club. Many people were trapped in the blazing inferno which investigators later blamed on faulty wiring, overcrowding, inadequate fire exits, lack of fire walls, poor construction practices and extreme safety code violations.
Lucky for me, after watching the scantily-clad showgirls performing their suggestive dance moves, I decided I couldn’t work there. I couldn’t believe Elaine could; I would have been mortified. It seemed my only choices were to audition for a ballet company (which I was too timid to do) or teach dance at the college level. I knew I definitely didn’t want to own my own ballet school or teach at anyone else’s for that matter.
So reluctantly Mike and I went our separate ways—me to Toledo and Mike to New Hartford. With all the confidence I could muster, I went to the University of Toledo to talk to the Head of the Dance Department. Although they weren’t hiring any teachers, they did seem impressed with my credentials and promised to call if anything came up. While I was waiting for my life to begin, I went back to work at Owens Illinois.
I was very lonely without Mike. We talked a few times, but long-distance calls were expensive and neither of us had much money. The song “Brandy” was popular at the time and I felt like Brandy pining away for my man at sea. The folks at OI were friendly and supportive. They even promised me a full-time, office job if I wanted it; I couldn’t imagine doing that the rest of my life.
At the time, Carla was going through a similar dilemma. After she graduated from Toledo University with a degree in Phychology (she started in Theatre but worried there was no money in it), she worked at a boring bank. Once she experienced the thrill of the Pioneer Playhouse, she couldn’t go back to her previous life. When the time was right, she and Jerry wanted to move to New York to try to make it on Broadway. So Carla talked to Connie Phelps who talked to Bill Webber who agreed to let Carla take reduced-price ballet lessons if she moved to Louisville. That would keep her close to Jerry but not too close.
After a short month in Toledo, I was ready to get out too. Carla and I decided to live in Louisville together. We would take lessons at Bill’s studio while I waited for the director of the Canadian ballet company to come and set Les Sylphides. Bill assured me that, once Fernand Nault saw me dance, I would be off to Canada with a contract in my hand. Two could live cheaper than one, and I knew I could always get work with Kelly Girls. The free lessons Bill offered were a huge plus as it was important I stay in shape and continue to improve until the audition.
Carla moved to Louisville first finding a cheap, furnished, efficiency apartment. I followed a few weeks later with all my belongings, which didn’t amount to much. Kelly Girls found me a position at a polyurethane foam company the day after I arrived. Carla had a little more trouble as she didn’t have the advantage of secretarial experience or schooling. Mike still had two weeks before he had to be in New York; so as soon as we got settled, he came for a visit.
It was an idyllic few weeks. Except for Carla living with us, it was like being married. I would go off to work in the morning and Mike would be waiting for me in the evening when I got home. Sometimes he would cook, but often we would go out for pizza or fast food. When the time came for him to leave, he couldn’t go. He called Circle in the Square Theatre and told them he wasn’t coming. He was like the guest who came to visit but never left—which was fine with me. Carla didn’t seem to mind as he helped with expenses and occasionally let her have one of his Schlitz beers.
Although Mike had never taken ballet before, it was obvious he had talent. The stretching regimen he had undergone when wrestling had kept his body supple and strong. At the Playhouse when he stepped in as lead male dancer after Maynard left, he performed as if he had been dancing his whole life. Also because of his wrestling background, he had the upper-body strength necessary to effortlessly and gracefully lift his partners. And a huge plus for a ballet dancer—his feet had a naturally high arch.
We decided to ask Bill if Mike could take free lessons too. If Mike wasn’t going to pursue his acting career because we wanted to stay together, switching to ballet was the obvious move. Bill was more-or-less agreeable—I think we paid a little for our lessons, but not much. Carla, Mike and I took lessons nearly every night and sometimes on Saturday morning. We were working full time—me and Carla for Kelly and Mike for Manpower. It was a grueling schedule but, since we didn’t know anyone in town and didn’t have much money to do anything anyway, we did what we needed to do and it paid off.
The teachers at the schools were good. There was one very old teacher who was way past her prime, but even she taught a decent class (although it was difficult to ignore her flagrant flatulence which was a source of constant amusement). We took lessons at two different studios. The oldest kids at the main studio were in high school. There was one exceptional student and many that weren’t bad. On Friday nights, we took at the other studio where many of the students were adults. Although Larry’s day- job was working at his hair salon, he also danced and took the Friday night class. Mike started in the beginner class with the itty-bitty kids but soon moved up to the intermediate and advanced.
Occasionally after Friday class, we would be invited to Bill and Larry’s for drinks and snacks. Their home was like many gay men’s homes—impeccably decorated. Its walls resembled a museum to religious, iconic art. They had obviously invested much time and money in their masterpiece. The conversations were always incredibly interesting and Bill and Larry treated me like a prima donna. Mike and I would invariably drink too much—after all it was free booze—and we were always relieved to make it home safely. One night when we all obviously had too much to drink, Bill and Larry invited us to spend the night so we wouldn’t have to drive. In the middle of the night, I found Bill and Mike wandering around the house. Bill had gotten up to persuade Mike to go to bed with him, and Mike was putting Bill back to bed—alone. I doubt Bill realized what he was doing and all was forgotten in the morning.
On the weekends, Carla usually drove the two hours to Danville to visit Jerry. Occasionally Jerry would come to Louisville and there would be four of us sharing the efficiency apartment. For entertainment, we started playing bridge. On Thanksgiving weekend, Mike drove with me to Toledo to meet the family. While on the road, we decided to get married. Mike casually asked, “What do you think about us getting married,” and I casually replied, “Sounds good to me.” It wasn’t very romantic but that’s how we “Virgos” are.
So instead of introducing Mom and Dad to my boyfriend, Mike; I introduced them to my future husband. They took it in stride. Mom, of course, asked the usual, “What’s your religion” questions and was appalled when Mike referred to Joseph as the “donkey leader”. Mom asked if he meant, “Saint Joseph?” Mike and I laughed about that for years. I think everybody instantly liked Mike because he was outgoing and funny.
In November or December, Carla and Jerry decided to get married; and Carla got pregnant (not necessarily in that order). Jerry’s Dad, a Baptist minister, performed the short ceremony right before Christmas. Mom and Dad came down and Mike and I were the witnesses. Mike dropped the ring and routed around on the floor for quite awhile before he found it. Dad mentioned to Jerry’s Dad that he hoped the marriage would work out and Jerry’s Dad said, “It had better!” Since Mom knew Mike was living with me but Dad didn’t, we moved all of Mike’s stuff into his car while they were in town. We pretended he lived in an apartment not far from ours. Luckily Dad didn’t ask to see it.
When I went back to Toledo for Christmas, Mom and I started planning the wedding. We decided on an April 7th date because it was after the Les Sylphides performance and the church was available. We talked to Father Warren who agreed to marry us. We were given pre-nuptial tapes, required listening because Mike was non-Catholic. It was back-in-the-day when Protestants had to promise to raise any children of the marriage Catholic and the pre-nuptial counseling guaranteed the non-Catholic party knew what they were getting into. In addition to listening to the tapes, we attended a one-on-one session with Father Warren prior to the ceremony.
After I left, Mom made the remainder of the arrangements. She decided on the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner, found the hall for the reception, chose the menu, decided on the guest list, and addressed and mailed the invitations. To save money, I asked Sue if I could wear her wedding dress and, of course, she said “yes”. Luckily we were the same size. I bought a different veil as I thought the one Sue wore was too formal for my wedding. For my maid of honor, I chose Carla, with Terry, Ann and Sue rounding out the bridesmaids. Mike has four brothers, so naming his groomsmen was easy. Mom had the idea of choosing bridesmaids dresses the girls could wear again; we tried for that, although I doubt anyone wore theirs more than once or twice. The dresses were full length, with cap sleeves and a floral pattern—each dress accentuating a different color flower.
On New Year’s Eve, Mike came back to Louisville with a diamond ring for me. The diamond was small but tasteful and I loved it. I was happy to be getting married, something most of my other friends had already done or were in the process of doing. I felt safe with Mike—he could be my front man. I was shy and fearful so he could do the talking. I felt like I had a much better chance of making it in the ballet world being married to Mike and I turned out to be exactly right. I didn’t feel like we were madly in love, but our lives seemed to fit together perfectly.
When Mike returned to Louisville after Christmas, he was hired by the Seed & Wire Warehouse and so was making more money than at Manpower. That definitely helped some; although now that Carla had moved to Danville, there were only two of us splitting the rent. I was soon rehearsing for Les Sylphides so my tight schedule became even tighter. Fernand came in one weekend to cast the ballet then left until a week before the performance when he came back to add the finishing touches. I was disappointed he hadn’t cast me in the Pas de Deux role; I was the Waltz Girl. The one exceptional student would be dancing the Pas de Deux with Larry as the male lead. At that point, my chances of becoming a ballerina in Canada were not looking good.
We rehearsed non-stop the week before the performance. Finally the day arrived and I was a nervous wreck. I felt like my entire future rested on this one performance. I needn’t have worried. I think Fernand had made up his mind long before that. During the actual ballet, I made one humongous mistake. I entered on what I thought was my music; and when I realized it wasn’t, exited just as quickly. Other than that, I think I danced pretty well. But after the show, I never saw Fernand again. No mention of a contract; no “good job”; no words of encouragement. Now what?
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