Tom never taught my class.

I believe he was on sabbatical for my first year, and when he

came back for his final year at U of A we only got a conversation with him (perhaps a
workshop). But we all knew who he was: a leader in the department and the community.
That year was not only his retirement year, but it was also a year of theatrical awakening for
me. I had decided to produce my first Fringe show - The Black Rider - which I knew was
going to be something special. I needed money to produce it though, and I had no luck
applying for grants (I had even unsuccessfully approached local theatre companies for
help). I then decided to ask the big cheese in the department if he could help out. I naively
thought that Tom might have access to secret funding sources, should he see the merit in
my venture. So I sat in Tom’s office pitching him the project, telling him that this was the
opportunity of lifetime: where I had been luckily granted the world English premiere of a
show that had been produced dozens of times across Europe in 7 different languages over
as many years, but no one had produced the show in English or in North America (except
for a brief stint of the German version at BAM in NY). After patiently listening to me, Tom
calmly but pointedly said “Michael, don’t you think there’s a reason no company has done
this show here?” and that he couldn’t help me out financially. I was disappointed to say the
least. The legend in the department was saying perhaps I was on a fool’s errand. Despite
this discouragement (or maybe in spite of), I doubled my efforts and produced the show with
free rehearsal space at U of A, and funded it with the income from my summer jobs, and
help from friends and family (not to mention volunteer labour from the creative team that
DID believe in the project). When it came to opening the show that summer at the Arts
Barns the show had pre-sold out all tickets for the run, and to my shock and awe we had a
standing ovation on opening night that lasted longer than the technician in the venue was
comfortable with. As soon as we came offstage to celebrate, still in costume and make-up I
noticed a portly man standing behind the stage alone. It was a freshly retired Tom. I had
attended his retirement party where he had asked about my project. I told him that I hoped
he would be able to see for himself. And so he had come to opening night, seemingly by
himself, and now had a huge smile on his face. He grabbed my arm and said “thank you for
bringing this show to us”. It meant the world to me.