The backyard playwright—a first at age ten

I wrote my first play when I was ten. Wrote, directed and produced Black Widow, starring my playmates in the neighborhood. Our family garage in the backyard served as the stage.

We were in rehearsal one afternoon when Britt Leach skidded his bicycle down the gravel driveway. Britt lived a few blocks away. He was older than we were, by almost a year, and he would enter junior high school at the end of the summer. A 7th grader.

We were in awe.

Britt was in love. He had a crush on Mary Louise, who had the lead in the play.

Not only was Britt an older man, he had experience in theatre and business. He put on puppet shows for kids’ birthday parties.

“Where’s your curtain?” he asked.

Curtain? It hadn’t occurred to me that we needed a curtain.

We searched through the basement and found an old wool Army blanket. Britt threaded a wire through it, strung it up somehow and, voila, we had a curtain. That opened and closed. The curtain was the first of his questions that led to help for us and an excuse for him to join in the production.

In fact, I think he delayed the opening night for a couple of days so we could get ourselves together. We needed one more day.

Our actresses had stage poise, even when the murderer reached for a rope that we had failed to provide as a prop. They mimed and the play carried on. Not that the audience of parents and neighbors in assorted lawn chairs would have complained. One mother had enticed her friend along, the friend being a columnist for the local newspaper.

Britt went on to Hollywood and a career as a character actor. You’ve seen him on the screen and television many times: Father of the Bride, Fuzz, The Last Starfighter, MASH, Hill St. Blues, Spencer’s Pilots, The Waltons, St. Elsewhere, The Dukes of Hazard and the list goes on.

I’ve never written another play.  After all, I got a rave review when I was ten. How could I top that?

parents and neighbors lined up in assorted lawn chairs as an appreciative audience.