SPECIAL TALENTS
Too many kids dropped by to name them here. Rodney Coe, though, was a special kid. He and Andrew Kelley were my Vincent Mathews and Mike yonts in later days. Rodney was Horace Vandergelder in Dolly, Professor Hill in Music Man, Captain Von Trapp in Sound of Music and many things in non-musicals. He would drop by on Saturdays before Sound of Music for voice lessons to work into that tenor voice range the low tones he would need in that show.
Rodney wouldn’t mind my sharing (he told it in an interview with the Greenfield newspaper) that he was not expected to “make it” through high school because of a learning disability. I had had him in class only two weeks when I sent him to the office to get a more challenging class. I told him I was sure he would go to college, and he would need better preparation than remedial English. I did have him in speech, and later, drama. He was my set chairman, drama president, and dear friend. Margaret knew him first as a piano student in junior high.
One elementary teacher said, after seeing him in a musical, “This is not the Rodney Coe that I taught.” I suspect that I saw something in him that others didn’t see. He said that only two people believed he would graduate from college—his mom and “the boss”, Mr. Rhoades. Rodney’s first professional work came between his sophomore and junior years in college. Five hundred people auditioned for four openings, and he was chosen. True, he had a height advantage, but he could act and could he ever sing. He never lost a line onstage and was, if it’s not too trite, “cool as a cucumber” up there.
I won’t repeat the praises Rodney and his parents have lavished on me—they are prejudiced in my favor. I did not encourage even Vincent to go after work in the theater. I said, instead, “If you can envision yourself doing anything else, do it.” But Rodney seemed destined to have only one road open to him, and I pressed him toward it. I had to take him to my alma mater, Indiana Central, where he had been offered scholarships by both music and drama departments but could not get admitted. They claimed they had a special program for the learning disabled and had a big article to that effect in the Indianapolis Star. How could they refuse him admission because his SAT scores were low. What he has doesn’t TEST. I assured him that once he was successful here, he could transfer to a bigger school.
The University of Indianapolis, as it was now called used Rodney in every production for two years. In their programs they had three distinguishing marks they placed after actors’ names on the cast lists. Rodney had all three marks by his name, meaning among other things, that once he was taking subjects in his major field, he was making the Dean’s List. Then he transferred to Ball State University at my suggestion, although his mom thought it was too big. I guess he showed it was not too great a jump when he garnered a singing lead in the small cast of the first show, a Sondheim musical, his first semester.
I got a post card from Andrew Kelley one day from Italy. He wrote me also from Egypt, a long letter, and he now resides in Indy.. Andrew also went to University of Indianapolis. He had the greatest work ethic I ever knew. He arrived long before play practice, even though he carried a large job load at Wal-mart,, and set the stage so that everything anyone needed would be in its place. His own props and space he mastered during these times. Then he was the last to leave. Could Margaret go through a certain song with him a few times so he could work in his space. I think he considered himself an actor more than a singer, as did Vince. But his shining, unforgettable moments were as Fagin in Oliver and the stage manager in Our Town..
What happened to Andrew was a tragedy that removed his burning passion for theater. Portraying a vile character onstage at U of I, he was viciously attacked by a man in the audience who was off-balanced enough that he could not distinguish between the actor and the character. Help did not get there fast enough, and he was hurt badly. He tried to stay in school and to be in the next play, but he just couldn’t recapture the joy he had always felt onstage. He felt overwhelmed with fear. He dropped out of school and joined the army. I still wait to see if he will ever renew his calling and expose the greatness that I saw in him from the days of Capt. Hook in Peter Pan on..
(Let me just mention that I have been feverish and ill for a week, and if I did some repeating today, forgive me.)
