Opening at the Eisemann
The Eisemann Center is really a wonderful complex. I am very proud of my old home town for building such a great space to perform in. It was a wonderful opening attended by Chuck Eisemann the patron namesake of the Theatre as well as my first manager, first puppet maker and first captive audience. The latter being my Dad my Mom and my Sister. What a thrill to be able to introduce them from the stage in my curtain speech. I love doing this show and with an audience that was into it and with me the entire way is a high that can not be described.
There was an incident. As most of you know I am a person who has a healthy respect for the paranormal and supernatural. I had some encounters with the ghosts of the Helen Hayes theatre, the Geva Theatre and the Cape Playhouse and am always on the look out for others. Usually a theatre that is as new as the Eisemann Center has yet to acquire ghosts so I was not really looking tonight. That is sometimes when you find them.
There is no one to verify my encounters since I was alone in the dressing rooms above the stage when it happened, but the hair on my arms stood straight up when it happened, a sure sign that I have had a visitation. Even thinking about it gives me the chills now.
To set the scene, I have chosen to occupy a single private dressing room that opens into a larger chours dressing room. It is cute and cozy and just right for me. On the wall of the chours dressing room, which is the back wall of my room, is an automatic paper towel dispenser. It is the new kind of "holder/dispenser" that advances a section of towel when you wave your hand near a sensor. I used it earlier in the day and found that unless you were almost touching the sensor it did not work. When it did work it made a distinctive "whirring" noise.
I am not sure the exact thought I was thinking at the time but as I was putting on my makeup in the ritual I have done so often before this show, I was contemplaing "theatre" in general. How great it is to perform in theatres and how great it is to be in my old home town performing. At just that moment, the dispenser on the wall behind me turned on. It startled me. No one was there, no one had walked by and there was no reason for the towel machine to go off. Particularly since I had a difficult time working it before. It startled me and an extrasensorly chill went up and down my body. I walked into the bigger room to see if there was some reason for it to activate. I walked by, waved my hands turned the light on and off and nothing caused it to activate. Something unseen by humans had gotten close enough to it to activate the device.
Of course I took it as a sign that the theatre itself was trying to welcome me home. It made me feel better and a smile came over my face. I kept thinking about it during the show and really felt a part of this space.
There were meet and greets after the show and I was delayed getting out of my costume and eventually found myself alone again in the dressing area. Although I wanted another confirmantion nothing out of the ordinary happened. I put my dressing table in order, shut the door to my small dressing area and turned out the lights to the bigger dressing room before locking up. As I do for every theatre I said good night to the presence of the theatre I am performing in and thanked it for letting me visit and perform. I usually refer to the theatre as OG... or Opera Ghost. Just before shuttiing the door I said, "Thanks and goodnight OG...."
The towel dispenser immediately activated with its "whirring" noise and spit forth a section of towel. Chills went up my spine again and there was no doubt in my mind that OG had answered back. It was the confirmation that I was hoping for. I guess good theatres get haunted quicker than I thought.
There may be plenty of ways to explain these two events, but the timing and the delivery of each was specific and for me greater than random chance. I am excited to go back tomorrow knowing that I am not alone up there. A haunted theatre in my old home town...how great is that.
As you were,
Jay