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Meanwhile, my hurried blurt of a phone call to my daughter had initiated a cascade of action on the home front.

Two miles from our home, my wife walked into her usual hair salon for a hard-won Saturday appointment, only to be greeted by a flurry of staff members:  “There’s a message from your family.”  ”But I just left home five minutes ago!” (A mother’s despairing protest.)

“Your friend is having a baby — and something about your husband?”  The woman at the reception desk was already dialling our home number.

My wife is no stranger to fast, decisive action.  Apprised of the situation, our family’s tactical commander told her daughters, “If you can be ready in FIVE MINUTES, we can go.”

Shaw Festival customers are well known at Bliss.  My wife’s apologies to her stylist were briskly brushed aside:  “Go! Go! Don’t worry!”

It was 3:15 p.m.

As my wife stopped the car in front of our house, a stream of beautifully dressed young women ran out the front door.  Not only were our daughters fully attired for a smart theatre matinee, but a visiting friend had been persuaded to replace her own shorts and T-shirt with a borrowed dress.

Racing across town, the intrepid personal support team despaired of finding parking near the Festival Theatre.  Miraculously, one parking spot on Wellington Street sat empty — but not for long. Dress shoes clattered across the parking lot, and into the lobby.  It was completely empty, the theatre doors already closed for the second act.

It was 3:24 p.m.

A few quick words to the house manager brought an instant response:  “Upstairs!”  The women raced up to the balcony.  “Put them in!” was the command from a young assistant, pointing at the left-hand balcony doors.  The usher whisked them through the double doors into four seats in the last row,  just as Fiona Byrne, Evan Buliung and Richard Stewart began the first scene.

At the end of the show, how the weary (and still pounding!) heart rejoiced to see a grinning, chattering claque of beautifully dressed young women outside the dressing room door!

You know, you just can’t do it alone.

Later that night, my wife told me that, as she drove down Highway 55 towards town, she realized there was no way to make it to the theatre in time.  She turned on her cell phone to tell our daughters to stand down, but couldn’t get any power.  So she kept on driving.  Curiously, she was only a couple of hundred yards from our local tower at the time.

True story!

                                                                                                        Guy Bannerman

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