For the first time (I believe), in my 58 year career, we cancelled a performance of a show, thus proving that the show does NOT alsways go on. Around 6:45, the young man who plays my grandson came over and sat down next to where I was sitting. "Madelynne is hurt," he says.
Huh? What do you mean she is hurt?
"Well, she bent her little finger all the way backwards. I think she broke it," he says. "She said I did it, but I didn't."
Did you tell Scott (our stage manager, our director, and the Artistic Director of the theater)?
"Uh no," he says.