George Addison - August 22, 1948 - August 27 2002 (54)

I was doing well in both of my jobs despite the hectic pace. I even managed to impress my boss at TU with my knowledge of computers. It was over something silly. He didn't know why the light on his floppy disc drive changed colors. I explained that on some models of 5 ¼" floppy disc drives, the light on the front of the drive would shine red for single density discs and green for double density discs, and that when he first put a disc into the drive, the light would alternate as the drive was testing the disc to figure out which one it was. He was really impressed with this. Apparently, he had asked folks in the IT department and they didn't have an answer for him. Saying something like, "It just does that."

I was also doing well at the Center. I would answer the phones with a cheerful enthusiasm that apparently was rather uncommon. The director of the Center got positive reviews regarding my performance from members of the board of directors, which was apparently uncommon. So, that felt good too. It was also pretty exhausting. I had a little time to myself between working the phones in the afternoon and starting rehearsals in the evening, but I didn't have time to go home in between.

  

The Innocent Heiress (1977)
Courtesy of Tulsa Historical Society & Museum
George Addison is far right under
Melanie Fry (the woman with the umbrella).

  

I had about an hour and a half. I used that time practicing and memorizing my lines. I was in a play called, "The Last Meeting of the Knights of the White Magnolia." The titular group was basically the Ku Klux Klan. My character was a fresh young inductee who had no idea what he was getting himself into. The meeting is the last meeting of course because the group destroys itself by virtue of its own bigotry and ignorance. Themes of bigotry and exclusivity resonated well with members of the Center. The disabled remaining one of those minority groups that continues to be dismissed, ignored and victimized.

  

  

The director of Knights was a man named George Addison. George was a professional stage actor and a member of Actor's Equity (the stage equivalent of the Screen Actor's Guild.) George had a stroke about two years before. His right arm hung limply at his side and he could only speak maybe a dozen words, almost all of those were curse words. He was an absolute brilliant director, and one of the best people that I have ever worked with.

The Center gave George a chance to return to the theater and do the thing that he loved. Every production had to include the disclaimer, "George Addison appears courtesy of Actor's Equity." Cyndi called for permission for every show in which George had a hand, and every time they were thrilled to agree. They were amazed that George was able to do theater again. They should have been. George was amazing.

He communicated to actors giving directions physically and speaking in "beats." I can hear him now, "Buh, buh ... Bum bum!" And it all made sense. And when we did something right, he gave us an encouraging, "God damn!" God, I loved that man.

Knights was only one of many productions that George and I would do together. In fact, very soon, George would become my roommate.