Ah, fame…

Here’s a story.

            Back when my daughter Cammie was 10, through a series of events that defy description, she ended up playing the leading role of Mary Lennox in the Broadway musical, “The Secret Garden,” at the St. James Theater. The kid was good, real good. The cast adored and respected both her singing and natural acting abilities.

            One Sunday early I got a frantic call saying they needed Cammie to do the afternoon matinee. I was the only one home, in posession of nothing but the farm truck, which was half full of hay and had only a few working gears, but off we went on the four-hour race, pulling up to the St. James (cast members enter  right next to the box office), and out jumped Cammie to run inside for make-up. A dozen kids screamed, “There she is! That’s Mary Lennox!”  Another spoke up and announced, “Nooo. Mary Lennox would never arrive in that,” she said, pointing at my truck.

            Farmers have such a bad rep. I liked my truck.

About lifegrower

Peter V. Fossel has been gardening since he was nine, and has been an organic farmer for the last 20 years. His most recent book, “Organic Farming, Everything You Need to know” was published by Voyageur Press, Minneapolis, 2007. He’s written numerous gardening articles for Organic Gardening, Horticulture, Country Journal, Out Here, and American Profile among others. He was Gardens Manager for The Hermitage, home of President Andrew Jackson in Tennessee before returning to Cape Cod to start his newest organic venture, Swan River Farm in Dennisport, MA.
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1 Response to Ah, fame…

  1. Granny Kate says:

    A lovely story. Reminds me of an incident when my youngest daughter was in kindergarten.
    In the early ’70s my cousin got a job as an announcer at the Grand Ole Opry. This meant we had access to backstage any time we could make the 2 1/2 hour drive to Nashville so she grew up toddling through the dressing rooms of the stars who performed there. Marty Robbins was one of the most popular stars at that time and was a good friend of my cousin. From the time she could walk, she and Marty were best buddies. He took her for rides in his race cars and his classic cars.
    I went one fine day to pick her up from school. When she got into the car I could tell that something hadn’t gone well. My inquiry was met with, “Mom, I need to bring a photo album to school tomorrow—one with pictures of Marty and me in it!”
    Further questioning revealed that she had spotted a poster at school advertising an upcoming Marty Robbins show in our town. She had exclaimed that Marty Robbins was her friend and she was happy he was coming to town. This was met with open skepticism from her teacher so it was her aim to show Miss Gibson that, while she did have quite an imagination, her friendship with Marty Robbins wasn’t imaginary!
    The next morning I accompanied her the next morning as she marched into class with her photo album under her arm. I explained to her teacher that she had indeed been a buddy with Marty for most of her life. Her teacher was most apologetic for having doubted her. To show her that there were no hard feelings, we arranged to get tickets for the teacher to see the show. After hearing the story, Marty brought her onto stage and introduced her to the audience as “My best friend in this town since she was two years old!”

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