Marsha Gerson Hirsch's Story

Marsha Gerson Hirsch

I first heard about Timber Lake Playhouse from my friend Connie Mango and came up to see a production of “Look Homeward Angel”. I was impressed to say the least. I was on my way to The Cleveland Playhouse and became friends with Vaughn McBride. He convinced me to become an actress with Timber Lake for the summer, not that I needed much convincing. I drove up with Ron and Holly Duffy in 1966.

Thus began some very memorable seasons-1966, '67, '68, & '69. I began by playing Martha in “Aesenic and Old Lace” What fun! I never worked so hard in my entire life. No such thing as “idle hands” at TLP. I rehearsed during the day, acted at night, worked on sets and costumes and also had the opportunity to direct. I remember staying up all night striking a set and putting up the new one. I learned why you don’t work barefoot in the shop. I also learned to drive a stick shift on Maurice Chevrolet. I always knew if I was a hit when I went to dinner. If Gladys had my favorite rhubarb pie, the show was going to succeed.

I played Bloody Mary in “South Pacific”, the only black haired, blue eyed Mary ever. Bill Bottom had a hard time with me. The singing wasn’t always easy, but the comedy I was born with. I remember stories from practically every show, but don’t ask me what I made for dinner last night.

During my big “searching for a pencil “ monologue in “Come Blow Your Horn”, Frangipani, a cast member’s kitten walked in upstage of me and began cleaning herself. The audience started giggling in the wrong place so I knew it wasn’t me. I turned around and scooped her up, handed her to Priscilla off stage, and said, “They don’t have a pencil but they have a cat”.

I became Bob Edwards’ resident wife, Steve Shaffer’s mother, with a little Mike Gross thrown in. In ‘68, I got to direct the first production of “A Thousand Clowns” with Mike Gross and Billie McBride. I also directed “Any Wednesday”. The list is etched on my brain in a way that finding my car keys isn’t. “Enter Laughing”, “Majority of One” , “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum”, (Who can forget Noel Shire as Hero?), “Brigadoon” with Peggy Bussert which she later did in the revival on Broadway. I cried every night when the bagpipes played at Mike’s funeral. “The Lady’s Not For Burning”, one of the most clever plays I have ever read. Another tricky long monologue-loved it. I watched the cast become inspired by Frye’s writing. “A View from the Bridge” with Ev Lunning. The phone booth from that show became my closet in my cabin. LeRoy ran a pole so I could hang my clothes. I also did the comedy “Never Too Late” in which the director taught me a new concept-subtlety in comedy. It worked. We did a few childrens’ shows as well. I remember dressing in a very large bunny suit.

But, the all-time classic was “Barefoot in the Park”. The opening of the second act calls for my son-in-law to carry me in and put me down on the couch. Mark, tall and lean, did not seem daunted. I was nervous. I was not used to being carried anywhere. The door opened, he did the two steps with me in his arms acting drunk, and put me on the couch. I could feel the couch tremble and the back legs buckled . The audience saw my feet slowly ri

sing up to the ceiling as the couch folded onto its back. The house was up for grabs. When I could get myself together, I crawled on my hands and knees and delivered the first line, “I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven, only I had to climb up”. The audience was hysterical again. The couch did the same thing the second night even after some repairs and then had to be replaced. I’m sorry Sheldon. Blame it on Gladys’ pies.

I moved to Los Angeles in 1970. I auditioned for everything. I did a lot of community theatre just waiting for a break. Lots of great reviews but no offers. I had a teaching degree and that paid the bills. I fell in love and married and have a wonderful son who had to be different so he went into film. I may never have started a theatre, but I produced a musical every year for graduation. I imparted my love for theatre to the inner city youth of South Central LA. When we did “West Side Story”, we really had the Sharks and the Jets. I directed “The Three Piggy

Opera” with third graders and “Annie” along with my son and a young cast of second language learners and native speakers.

I always remembered that whatever task we attempted, even finding enough flashlights and driving our cars up to the open theatre doors during a tornado when the electricity went out during a show, the “we can do this” attitude of Timber Lake which has guided my life. I applaud you Andy, Dorothea, Sheldon, and all the founders of the longest continuous running summer theatre in Illinois. Wow! The branches of your tree have grown in so many directions, too numerous to count. I thank you for a wonderful part of my life.