Mary Sands
Last summer I had only a few options in the country of places to go and live. This was after a layoff in California back in 2003. I had been to visit my second cousin Barbara and her husband Ron on a couple occasions, and thought Kansas City was a decent enough town. But I was most intrigued by my cousin, and had been since I was a young child. Gregarious, with red hair and a flair for dramatics--after all she had been an actress and director most of her life--she had always seemed full of life and spontaneity.
Their house had enough room for me, and Barbara invited me to live with them. We shared a few things in common, mostly our open minds and tolerant attitudes about other humans as well as an appreciation for climate and aesthetics. Being around Barbara reminded me of my father's mother and her four sisters (one of whom was Barbara's mother). The sisters had been sophisticated, whip-smart Southern Women. They were beautiful and glamorous, and no longer alive. Our memories of them tied Barbara and me together as well.
I am currently housed on their second floor, in a room peppered with Spanish wine bottles and fabrics. From the duvet to the big, flowered rug to the lamps and candles, to the mirrors and figurines: all is a shade of red. It started with me bringing a large, red silk rose from Chicago. Add red upon red. Barbara completed hundreds of transactions to get the room right, and we spent hours on it. Someday it will make another guest very happy.
The rest of the house is a tribute to Barbara and Ron's history together. A big part of this is my great Aunt Gladys (Barbara's mother)--my Grandmother Kay's sister--and the lovely antiques that she left her only daughter. Add to that a bountiful supply of plants, splashy rugs over hardwood floors, glorious bar, and plenty of decor that is part-Bohemian, part-antique, part-baby (thanks to new grandson Ryland), and part-stage-history.
The stage history is where this article will go next, and it is how the house we live in speaks its memories--along the stairwell, atop the piano, and in the den's walls--hangings of Broadway plaques and posters in which Barbara and Ron acted or took part in stage-managing or directing.
The billows of lost, dramatic poses still haunt the many costumes and clothes hanging sturdily from closets, hallways, basement, and sun porch. The house includes rows and rows of great, glowing, sparkling, and beautiful garments--cloths that sway as you walk through them.
-Mary Sands
The Beginnings
In 1957 Ava Gardner starred in The Little Hut as Lady Susan Ashlow, a married woman shipwrecked on an island with her lover and husband. In 1965 the same play ran its course in Greensboro, NC and was staged-managed by Ron Schaeffer, from New York. A young woman named Barbara Houston, also from New York, had come to play Susan, and like Ava Gardner, had dark hair at the time. Though Barbara was nervous about the lead, as well as balancing many props, she did wonderfully. Ron explained later that the movie and the play were not sexually overboard, but simply titillating--and back in the 1950s and 60s, audiences were delighted by elusive art. Barbara's handling of the delicate role in the island love triangle was applauded.
Both Ron and Barbara were attached at the time, their significant others back in New York, but during the run of the play did flirt some--having drinks after rehearsals--and were obviously attracted to one another.
At one point, Barbara's parents (Hilary and Gladys Houston) came to visit. Barbara could not pick them up at the airport because she was doing a publicity spot for Hut, singing "Something Wonderful" from The King and I. So Ron picked up the parents, and all of them arrived in the studio just in time to hear Barbara's singing. Her parents thought Ron was sweet, and Ron said later that he fell in love with Barbara as he watched her sing that song.
However, after Hut ended, Barbara and Ron returned to New York to continue their own lives, and did not see each other for another two years.
The Early Years
Ron was working with some big names at the time (or people who would at least later hit it big), and it was an exciting adventure for him.
But Barbara had also had begun a collection of stories to tell. One of her favorites involves meeting Leonard Bernstein. Barbara often did out-of-town work, and one of these stints involved the Condado Beach Hotel in Puerto Rico. By this time, Barbara was also a Revlon hair model and had dyed her hair red. Her small revue (Highlights of Broadway) in Puerto Rico included excerpts of Broadway shows with a group of dancers and singers; some of the musicals were composed by Bernstein (such as from Wonderful Town and West Side Story).
Barbara later described the hotel and surroundings as sort of like Las Vegas, with its flashy lights, but more tropical, like an island paradise. One particular night she was singing "I Have a Love," which had been sung by Maria in West Side Story. It was not a secret that on this night, Leonard Bernstein himself had checked into the hotel with a young man friend.
The cast was rather nervous about whether Bernstein would be upset that his songs were being performed; nobody was sure whether they had the right permissions to redo his work, and the producer was not around right then. As Barbara was singing she noticed that Bernstein and his friend were sitting in one of the seats near the stage.
After the show, he asked to see one person: Barbara. She was anxious and thrilled. Leonard told her that even though her red hair would deny the possibility of her being cast as Maria, he had never heard anyone sing the song better. Flattered, Barbara's spirits soared. Surrounding her was the rest of her troupe. She said, "Oh, Mr. Bernstein, you've made my day, week, and year." Barbara had organized a large beach party that night and said the least she could do was to invite him to it. He agreed and said he had nothing to bring, however. Barbara said he could just bring himself, and that would be fine. A large party lasted all hours of the night, with plenty of roasted pig as well as Bernstein relating funny stories.
Ron had also worked with Bernstein at the opening of the Kennedy Center when Ron stage-managed Bernstein's Mass, and still has an original signed score.
Barbara told me the story of going to Dublin, Ireland to film the movie Prince and the Pauper, which aired in 1969 and costarred John Spencer (who now plays chief of staff Leo McGarry on "West Wing"). Everyone in the cast was practicing their British accent for the movie, and also staying at a hotel whose maids were very conservative. The maids also highly disliked the English. When the staff found out that their temporary tenants were just American actors practicing another accent, they were not as snippy as they were at first. However, the cast was mostly young and wild. Barbara refers to John as Johnny; they were best pals back then. Since she was also a Revlon hair model, she had all kinds of dye to play around with, and she and Johnny would play with their hair and spend nights in her room talking. Sometimes he would fall asleep there. The maids would tell her "Ya dirty devil! Ya filthy thing! I know what you're doing." Even though they weren't doing anything "filthy" because they were just friends.
After the filming, John invited Barbara along for a weekend in London. She decided "why not," even though John had lodging with another friend. Barbara figured that she could find a room somewhere. So they left to London, Barbara wearing a purple tweed suit that she loved. Ireland had been cold, and the suit seemed to be fitting. In London, however, the climate was hot and the tweed suffocating. Barbara and John walked the streets trying to find a room for her, and didn't find a thing. They were unaware at the time that the world's soccer championship, as well as an airline strike, were taking place in London. So there was "no room at the inn." At one point, Barbara passed out from heat exhaustion. When she awoke, she was laid-out on a pool table in a pub, people hovering over her to make sure that she was all right. She eventually found three families to stay with in the course of that weekend.
One of my favorite stories is when Barbara met Barbra Streisand. Barbara Houston was an East Coast Ziegfeld Follies Girl for the movie Funny Girl, which came out in 1968 and starred Barbra Streisand, depicting the life of Fanny Brice. Streisand and the rest of the West Coast cast flew to the East Coast to shoot at an old train depot in New Jersey, and Miss Houston was playing an actress in the movie and got to work with her. Once when Barbara was dressed in a wool coat and dress, and an enormous hat, on a particularly hot day, she fainted. Streisand came up to the young actress and said in her deep NYC accent, "Bab-ra, Bab-ra, tawk to me! Are you Awlright?" complete with motherly concern about helping the young woman to come around. Barbara said that Barbra did not talk to any of the other actresses--and that made her feel special.
Ron had also met Streisand. Before working at the Lincoln Center, he took on a temporary position a couple nights a week as an ASM at the Blue Angel Nightclub in Manhattan (affiliated with the famous Blue Note). He said that Barbra was doing a little show there and singing "Cry Me a River" the first time he saw her. She always wanted hot tea before going on stage.
Ron would also work with Rolf Harris, the couple Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara (who had a tiny toddler Ben by this time), Bobby Short, Woody Allen (who liked to hide out upstairs and read Dostoevsky), Dudley Moore, Phyllis Diller, and "sweet" Georgia Brown. Ron recalls several times going out all night with some of the performers, and one time Miss Brown took them all to Harlem, where they met a black woman who made them a nice fried chicken meal around 5:30 a.m., and sold them several drinks. It was like a restaurant in her house.
These early years were filled with excitement and generosity, as far as meeting other actors, singers, and dancers. Barbara describes New York as a fascinating place. Elders in the trade would encourage youngsters, new to the place. Before meeting Ron, Barbara had worked as sort of a gopher on the "Joe Franklin Show." Her job was mainly to deliver and fetch things for the show, but occasionally she would be called upon to sit on the panel and give a young actress's opinion on an issue. At the time, she had just gotten her first apartment, but had no furniture. Joe hooked her up, advising his colleagues on what to do with second-hand furniture that was being stored in a basement, or what to do with that truck today (help this young lady move)!
Another example of this very hospitable and pleasant environment included Barbara meeting Tennessee Williams. Barbara accompanied Joe Franklin to the Latin Quarter one night to see Johnny Ray. Franklin had gotten ringside seats, at a shared table with none other than Tennessee Williams. Barbara describes Williams as being very friendly, with open arms, and having that wonderful southern accent that soothes one's ears. He was also very funny, and kept everyone in stitches all night. For instance, he cracked jokes about some of the dancers who were not very endowed, but it was all in good humor. Barbara had a grand time, meeting and spending an evening with Mr. Williams, but didn't think she'd ever see him again.
A couple years later (again, before meeting Ron), Barbara was on a date at a French restaurant on the East Side, and while standing in the coat check spot overheard a man say, "Why Barbara dahlin', how are ya?" It was Tennessee again, and Barbara was overwhelmed that he had remembered her name. She thinks his excellent memory serves as an asset to his fantastic plays about people he has met in his life. Again, Tennessee wished her luck on her career.
Ron also meet Tennessee when one of his friends produced the Williams' play Small Craft Warnings. Ron was helping by auditioning people, but he said the play never did do well, even when Mr. Williams himself stepped in to play Doc.
In 1969 Ron got a job stage-managing Adaptation Next, in Boston. Stockard Channing was the lead, and Barbara her understudy. Stockard quit for further fame and fortune, so Barbara took over the part. Ron and Barbara worked and lived in Boston for a while, doing Adaptation. During this time, they decided to get married and began going back to NYC every Monday to plan their wedding. A sidenote: Stockard even came to their wedding.
The summer before their marriage, they did Woodstock Summer Theater and lived in a log cabin in the woods. The place was sort of neat, with a bedroom loft that they had to climb on a ladder to get to. Ron had also worked at Berkshire Theatre Festival in the summer of 1968 as a PSM for A Cry of Players about a young William Shakespeare. He worked with Anne Bancroft and Frank Langella.
The Honeymoon
On January 5, 1970 Ron and Barbara were married at the Church of Ascension. It was a "day off" from the play in Boston, and theater friends performed the music for free. The bridesmaids wore long purple velvet in what Barbara described as a beautiful winter wedding. The couple would honeymoon later when they had the time.
Meanwhile, Ron got an offer to be the stage manager of Broadway's Hair for the next two and a half years. This was really a big deal for Ron even though at the time he considered his work as serious and this was a rock and roll show.
Ron got his first two-week paid vacation in October of 1970, and all year he and Barbara had been planning their honeymoon in Europe. They made all the hotel reservations and did all the research themselves, including reading the book Europe on $10 a Day. So in October they flew on Icelandic Airlines to Iceland, and on to Belgium for the night, where they discovered that their luggage had gone to...the Virgin Islands. They only had the clothes on their backs, so slept in a chilly hotel, where they huddled together all night. Barbara recalls, "It wasn't very romantic because we were freezing our asses off."
They'd also planned to meet the next day with one of Ron's cousins who was stationed in Germany and lived with his wife and children, but the luggage delay resulted in a shorter visit with the cousin than planned. Ron and Barbara finally got their luggage and trained across Germany, where they got a chance to meet briefly with the cast of Hair in a cafe in Frankfort. Then they went to Italy. Ron describes getting the trains and tickets, and sometimes taxis, as frustrating because neither Barb or Ron spoke anything but English. In Milano they visited La Scala and the Galleria. Then they visited Florence, where they saw museums and The David, and ate Italian ice on the street. To stick to their budget, they stayed in pensions and, instead of eating out in restaurants during the day, they bought bread, wine, cheese, and fruit--and would sit down somewhere wonderful to eat it.
From Florence they traveled to Venice, which they describe as most calming and beautiful. The city did not have cars, and the atmosphere was soft and slow. The couple walked or took a gondola everywhere they went. Barbara bought jewelry, lace, glass, and leather goods. There were at least two islands to boat to: the artisans of Murano specialized in glassmaking, and the people of Burano made lace. They visited San Marco Square and saw lots of pigeons and classical musicians playing violins on the streets. They also saw a familiar luxury liner tied up at port, one that they'd seen in NYC often: the Christopher Columbo.
Then it was off to Rome, and on the train there Ron kept excitedly pointing out sites to see, but Barbara was engrossed in reading The Godfather. Rome was fine except for the rushed traffic and the trouble hailing a taxi. And the ever-present problem of getting a ticket to train somewhere without speaking Italian. Ron says that even in the train station bathrooms, there would always be a cleaning woman--not much privacy. It was difficult to get around, and Barbara, a Midwestern girl who had moved to New York and learned how to be aggressive, got into a spat with one cab driver, but the couple learned that people in Rome did not hail taxis like they could in New York, at least not back in those days. While Barb would wait with the luggage for Ron to barter with ticket agents and cross language barriers, she would get goggled, pinched, and flirted with. "Back then, I had a great figure," she says. Anyway, the couple finally got to their pension, thanks to a man pushing a big wheelbarrow.
Despite the frenetic energy of Rome, reminiscent of their New York, the couple did have a good time seeing the Villa Borghese Gardens, Sistine Chapel, Coliseum, and the Forum--along with hundreds of feral cats. Barb and Ron recall that in those days you could walk down into the Forum, and because they had both had knowledge of or had studied design and art, they knew what they were looking at when they came across Ionian columns and other structures.
The couple's final destination was Paris, which comes with a funny story. One of Barbara's old boyfriends owned a room that had a wonderful view of the Eiffel Tower. The old friend allowed Barbara and Ron to use the room. After arriving late at night, the couple needed to take an old elevator, which was surrounded by a lovely spiral staircase, up to their room--and though there was a warning about weight limits, the couple loaded all their luggage onto it. When they reached the story where their room was located, everything was pitch black. They groped along the walls in the dark and finally found a lightswitch. When they proceeded down the hall, the lights went off. Fumbling again, they found the switch until the lights came back on and then finally found their room number. However, the lights kept going off. It took what seemed forever to get all their luggage into the room from the elevator down the corridor. Finally, secure in their room and in bed, they were relieved to be resting. But then they decided they had to go to the bathroom. The bathroom was down the hall--the pitch black hall. After another several minutes of turning on lights, only to have the lights turn off by themselves mysteriously, they managed to find the bathroom. But the light didn't come on, not until they shut the door and locked it. The couple found out later that the lights were all on a 60-second timer. What's more, the toilet was a hole in the floor that one could stand or squat over while placing their feet to either side. A chain flushed the toilet--the same chain that pulled the shower.
Ron in Paris
Paris toliet/shower
Barbara in ParisParis was enjoyable despite the lighting and bathroom problems. Barbara and Ron also visited the Louvre, Follies Bergère, and statue of St. Joan.
Hair, National Lampoon's Lemmings, and the Bernstein Mass
Maybe that's an odd grouping of shows, but they did happen during the last few years Ron and Barbara were in New York City. After the couple's honeymoon, Ron continued work on the musical Hair. This first Broadway production of the show really hit big everywhere, given the times. Ron explains the publicity done during that time. For instance, the cast performed Let the Sunshine In at the end of the Vietnam Moratorium, which was one of the largest protest/peace gathering ever, involving thousands of people at Madison Square Garden. Another time the cast sang at the women's prison on Rikers Island. They also helped to get the first black mayor of Newark (Ken Gibson) voted in by riding around town in wagons and singing, as well as asking people to get out to vote. Pete Seeger was also part of that event. The cast went to the first Earth Day ever, which was held in April, 1970 and at which Leonard Bernstein gave a passionate speech about saving whales. Also, every year in April they would perform songs from the musical in Central Park. Thousands would come. It was a glorious time, and when Barbara and Ron speak of it, their eyes light up.
Some other interesting tidbits about the show are that when the Kent State Massacre happened in May of 1970, the Hair cast took a moment of silence at the beginning of the show that night. Another was that anyone who had been with Hair past or present could sit in on stage at the "be-in" at the end of Act I. This is the scene where everyone is under a blanket and then stands up and is naked. Ron notes that he had to keep track of who participated in this part because they got paid extra for being naked.
When the California Hair company closed, many of the cast came to Broadway. One of these guys was Meatloaf, and he and Ron became good friends--though at first Ron says he couldn't get the name right and kept saying "Meatball." "Aquarius" was supposed to be sung by a black man with a high tenor voice, but Ron explains that Meatloaf sang it perfectly, blowing everyone away. Hair ended the summer of 1972.
In 1973 Ron and Meatloaf worked together on Rainbow, in New York, Ron as stage manager and Meatloaf as an actor and assistant stage manager. The play was held on the lower-east side at the Orpheum, off Broadway. That same year, Meatloaf dragged Ron to the Village Gate to see National Lampoon's Lemmings. It was hilarious, and once again Ron was offered a stage-managing job, replacing someone else. He worked with John Belushi, Christopher Guest, Chevy Chase, and Alice Playton, who was very well-known in Broadway at that time.
During the frenzy of Hair and other things, in 1971, Ron also was stage manager for the Bernstein Mass, a real honor, as the musical was written for the opening of the Kennedy Center. Barbara was also pregnant at the time with their first, and she remembers that Ron worked so hard and she missed him but was highly proud of the things he was doing. Ron and Barbara also speak highly of Avlin Ailey, who was the choreographer of the Mass. The choreographer directed all the musical scenes, and the dancers walked down a narrow alley leading to a circle. Bernstein wanted this to not be boring choreography, so basically every day or every other day, Ailey would re-invent the dances and always did brilliant, creative things. The lead dancer was Judith Jameson, who was young, gorgeous, and very statuesque. She is now the artistic director of the company.
On the Long Road to Kansas City
After Lemmings, with 1.8 babies (they now had daughter Laura and were pregnant with son Danny), Ron and Barbara moved to Leroy, Illinois where they began raising their children, and continued to direct, act, and stage manage in community theatres. Barbara also taught high school and junior college. Sometime during their stay in Illinois, before 1980, is when I eventually met them as well. I was young and remember Laura and Danny as little kids, too. I suppose that we played together at that time, but my memory is hazy except for the fact that Ron would take us out in a canoe on a lake, and I loved it. We also ate a lot of ice cream!
Doing summer stock in Sullivan, Illinois, Barbara got a chance to work with Arlene Dahl in A Little Night Music
and Laverne and Shirley's Eddie Mekka in Pippin. Ron also worked with Patrice Munsel and Betsy Palmer. The couple worked with several others as well, but Barbara was very fond of Arlene and said that she was very sweet. Often Arlene's son played with Laura and Danny. Back in Leroy, Barb also acted in Hello Dolly, The Last of Mrs. Lincoln (which Ron directed and which is one of Barb's favorites), and 1776. She also directed Ron in Ways and Means. They both acted together in Life with Father. During these years Barbara also got an MFA at Illinois State University.
At one point both Ron and Barb both were working at a theatre in Indiana on a run of Scrooge when the entire staff was laid off. It was Christmas Eve, and Ron immediately sent his resume to everyone he could think of. A woman named Pat McIlrath at the Missouri Repertory Theatre (old name of the theatre) offered him a job very quickly. Nearly a day after the Christmas Eve layoff, Ron was driving to Kansas City and subsequently accepted a position. Now, over 25 years later, he is a long-standing member and production manager of what is now called the Kansas City Repertory Theater as well as a professor at the University of Missouri at Kansas City, where he teaches stage management and directs student productions.
Ron is currently a production manager of a five-to-seven play professional season and seven-play academic season at the Rep. He directs at other theaters in Kansas City, including at the Quality Hill Playhouse (Only Kidding), Unicorn Theatre (On the Verge), and the 39th Street Theatre (The Gin Game). He also directs summer stock. In 2003 he traveled to Iowa, where he directed Saving Grace at the Okoboji Theatre. This summer (2005) he is going back to direct London Suite. He recently directed Reckless for UMKC at Union Station. Both have done many more productions that aren't listed in this article. Barbara has also directed as well as worked in many commercials, television shows, and films--including Article 99, Rent-a-Cop, Kansas, Funny Girl, and The Prince and the Pauper. I remember seeing her, and the entire Schaeffer family, in the frightening movie The Day After (with Jason Robarbs)--and in Gone into the Night, Barbara played Shannen Doherty's mother.
For Ron's resume, click here, and for Barbara's click here.
The Now and the Future
Being around the Schaeffers has been a nice little time. I can tell they are both loved and respected in the theatre community in Kansas City. When out with them to parties, I've seen how others flock to them, hug them, talk endlessly with them. I've also been with them to many plays, everything from Shakespeare in the Park's Julius Caesar to Reckless and Playing Othello (directed by Barbara in 2004). Each year, Barbara is the assistant director of Christmas Carol--a very delightful production that usually has the audience in tears. Also, I've been to other plays at other theatres in Kansas City, but must say that the Rep is very classy in comparison. There have now been four seasons I've bid my time here, and there are many memories that include hanging out in the lobby of the Rep, whether it's icy outside and listening to Christmas carolers inside beneath beautiful decorations and lights, or sipping champagne in the lobby and watching thunderous skies pour away beyond the windows. Afterward are cast parties, which are lively and dimly lit in the shop at the Rep. I remember once after The Pirates of Penzance, someone hung a gigantic plastic bottle of Captain Morgan's Rum from the ceiling. The parties are catered nicely, and have a cool little bar area. And people like to get out of costume, but dress up.
It was one of these such occasions recently that Barbara explained a pleasant afternoon affair when her daughter Laura, a dresser for the play Carter's Way, came over to look through Barbara's closets and shelves to find something 1930-ish to wear to the cast party that night. Barbara was giddy with delight at this prospect. She loves to go through jewelry and other accessories, and will spend hours finding the right outfit. Mother and daughter found a long string of pearls and black lace, and a jet black beaded necklace with matching earrings to go with the burgundy dress that Laura had chosen. It was quite a time.
The couple's children are all grown up now. Laura is an actor, performance artist, dresser, stage-hand, and stage-manager. She has worked in film and commercials. Her partner David is also involved with the Rep as a set designer and builder. Danny has been in films and videos too. Barbara once took him to Hollywood, and Danny nearly had a big break and his own television show at one point. In fact these days, Barbara and Ron, despite their otherwise busy schedule directing, acting, and other theater work, spend a lot of time active in their children's lives and babysitting their grandson Ryland (Laura and David's son). The house has taken on a new sort of dimension, that of toys and books, and a kiddie pool out back.
Who knows what is to come, and I have a feeling I won't be in Kansas City forever, but it has been very nice to get to know the Schaeffers and their rich background. I can see that their grandson Ryland is blessed to have such an extended family; many grandparents don't have time to babysit or spend a lot of time with younger relatives, but Barbara and Ron make time because I have a feeling--despite their outstanding career accomplishments--that family is really the most important thing.
Laura
Danny*All images used with permissions from UMKC, Rep, and the Schaeffers.
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