Wrapped up in research, I forget to rehearse.

After going through Mary and John Clum's letters at the U of A Libraries Special Collections, I decide to perform Mary's last letter to her mother-in-law.

I am especially excited to include Mary's insights on the Townsite issue. (I figure this should be of great interest to the researchers and historians at Tombstone Territory Rendezvous.) In the letter, Mary writes, "It is a great outrage to move people off their lots by man force. They tried to move a house last night but did not succeed as the Marshal interfered and put a stop to it.  This morning the citizens moved it back to it's former position. Clark, Gray, and Co. felt somewhat chagrined but do not dare offer any resistance. The entire public is against them. I hope no violence will be used...We have two nice lots of our own and our little house and are comfortable, so are deeply interested in the question at issue."

Intrigued, I put off packing for our Tombstone trip and practicing for my dramatic reading. Instead, I delve into my personal library of Tombstone history. I uncover comments about the Townsite issue in the correspondences of Clara Spalding Brown in, "Tombstone from a Woman's Point of View," and the private journal of George Whitwell Parsons from, "A Tenderfoot in Tombstone." (Both edited by Lynn Bailey.)

Parsons has several entries about the subject as he was heavily engaged in fighting Clark, Gray and Co. about their rights to the town lots. He mentions obtaining two lots himself with Rev. McIntire near the Clum's house on Safford Street. He thinks having the Rev. on his side will help, but also describes the attempt to move the Judge's house while the Judge is away. A judge even! What nerve!

Mary Clum's letter and George Parsons' journal both discuss Clum's articles regarding the Townsite issue in his paper, The Tombstone Epitaph.

I wonder out loud if I can get a copy for my reading. Dan, my ever curious, ever helpful beau, does a search for copies of that paper. Unfortunately, he can't find any copies of the Epitaph from that time period, 1880-81.

Caught up in this research, neither of us gets anything we need to get done for our trip that night. And my reading is Friday! Ahh!

There's always Tombstone...

Celtic Knot in Our Tree of Life

Looking forward to returning to Tombstone with my soul-mate, Dan.

Our last visit was in celebration of our engagement. It was very meaningful to us. We discovered our own, "Tree of Life." The gnarled roots of the Tombstone Rose bush formed a Celtic knot. It's tiny roses were in full bloom symbolizing our hearts opening to each other.

The clipping we took home to commemorate Dan moving in.

Our little tree today, still thriving after 7 months. 

(Be durned if I'll let it die, it representing our relationship and all. lol)

Can our "tree of life" hold up to the weight of our first Christmas? 

Yes! It can! 

Our "tree of life" on our one year and one month anniversary! 

The Clum Letters: Through the Eyes of Mother Clum

While preparing for my dramatic reading at Tombstone Territory Rendezvous, I conducted research on Epitaph editor and Indian agent John Clum (He actually captured Geronimo!) at the U of A Special Collections library. After poring over Clum family letters, I have decided to portray John Clum's mother reading letters from her son and his wife, Mary. I plan to include: the first letter Mary wrote to her new mother-in-law in which she shares the details of their wedding, Mary's last letter before dying in which she tells about her life in Arizona, and John's letter sharing the sad news of his dear wife's death (as well as the newspaper clipping he enclosed.)

Dear Maddie: Researching Tombstone Mayor John Clum's Letters to His Dear Wife (or They Actually Let Me Touch Historical Letters!)

Researching John and Mary Clum in Special Collections at the U of A.

by Jana Segal

It had been a few years since I performed the dramatic reading of John Ringo's mother's pioneer diary at Tombstone Territory Rendezvous, so I was eager to perform another historic reading. TTR organizer, Jean Smith, suggested that I do something on the wife of one of the mayors of Tombstone since this year's program already included several prominent men. I googled "mayors of Tombstone." At the top of the list were the current mayor of Tombstone and John Clum. John Clum - Earp supporter, Epitaph founder, and Indian agent! His wife at the time was Mary Clum. I was intrigued to find out more about her. Someone was already scheduled to do a presentation on Mayor Clum based on Gary Ledoux's new book, so Mrs. Clum would fit in nicely. Following that lead, I discovered Gary Ledoux on facebook and asked him if he had any copies of the Clums' letters. He didn't, but he graciously sent me some pages from his book that included excerpts from Clum's April 16th letter to his wife (written while serving at the Southern Apache Indian Agency where he captured Geronimo.) I had a date to work with! A google search for that letter, led to a collection of the Clums' letters in the University of Arizona Libraries Special Collections.

I was tickled to find how easy it is to look up historic documents at Special Collections. The research librarians were so helpful bringing up boxes full of folders with letters, newspaper clippings, and old photos. (I imagined them scooting their little cart by row after row of artifact boxes like the iconic scene in "Raiders of the Lost Ark.") Plastic envelopes held the fragile, aging letters. I couldn't believe that I was allowed get my grubby mitts (or white gloves) on 130 year old love letters! I read Clum's letter to Major J. F. Wade from the the 9th Cavalry detailing the capture of Geronimo. I struggled to decipher the Clums' messy handwriting and smiled at their gushing affection. Finally, I happened onto John's letter to his mother sharing the heartbreaking news of his wife's death. Profoundly touched, I knew that I had to share their story with a dramatic reading of their letters.

Tombstone Territory Rendezvous will be held October 29th to November 2nd.

Rehearsing and Performing my Reading of Mary Ringo's Pioneer Journal

When preparing for my reading of Mary Ringo's pioneer journal, I had to decide which journal entries to include. There was A LOT of tragedy on this journey, so I wanted to break that up by including entries with interesting details on camping – so the audience could get a glimmer of life on the wagon train and so there would be peaks and valleys in the performance. This would give me a chance to express other emotions aside from the fear and rising anxiety over the impending Indian attacks. For instance, I express her delight at seeing the beautiful scenery and the joy of watching the children discover a steamboat. I like to have as much variety as possible so it won't become one note.

Rehearsing for a reading can be tricky. Different than rehearsing for a play. With play acting you need to memorize the lines precisely without memorizing the inflections. Some directors have you do improvisation so you stay as spontaneous as possible. When rehearsing for a reading, you need to practice reading it out loud enough so you are comfortable articulating the exact wording and don't garble the words. It helps to know the subtext (internal dialogue). When I type the manuscript I double space so I can write cues for the emotions above the dialogue. But you have to know it well enough so you're aware of the transitions from one emotion to another. It won't do to figure out the emotion half way through the sentence. This is where pauses can come in handy. I put a slash where I need a pause to shift from one emotion to the next. Pauses are also great to add drama. Sometimes Mary would write about some very dramatic event in a very matter of fact or dry manner. A few well placed pauses can really build the dramatic tension. A guy came up to me after the reading and said that he was afraid I was going to pass out from all the anxiety. The anxiety that he (and I) felt came from the pauses.

So how much do you rehearse? It's all about balance. You don't want to practice so much that it becomes dull and you are forcing the emotions. I was lucky to have a manuscript with a very dramatic ending. The writing wasn't stilted at all. The words and rhythm expressed real heartache. The first time I read it aloud, I cried. This is good and bad. It is good because you know that the feelings are there. It is bad because you don't know if you'll ever be able to access them again – especially if you over work it. I opted on the side of less work.

After going through and marking the script with the subtext and emotional cues, it is time to read it out loud. First, I just need to get used to hearing my own voice. I don't worry too much about inflection. If I stumble on a word that is hard to pronounce, I repeat it until I can say it with ease. As I re-read it, new subtext starts to emerge so I tweek my notes and pauses. I work on a section at a time until I get rid of enough kinks to get all the way through it. When I finally got to the climax – I actually cried! I set it aside so I wouldn't overwork it. The next day, I read it all the way through without stopping at each mistake. Finally, I time it. Good. It's in the alotted time frame. I stop for the day.

Friday, November 4, 2011

When I get to Tombstone, I wander the streets. There is a lonely wind blowing – as I miss absent friends. I go back to my room and read through the whole manuscript – except for the emotional climax. I don't want to overwork it. I hope the tears will be there when I need them.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

The next day - the day of performance, I have about two hours to get ready. I read the beginning and start to feel a little anxiety. I take a long shower – belting out a song or two. I take my time putting on my modest makeup and put my hair up in a bun. I casually read the manuscript out loud one last time. It's not perfect. I don't even get choked up at the end. I leave the performance in God's hands. It is really an act of faith at this point. I put on my school marm dress, lace up my period shoes and head for the performance venue hoping for the best.

When I get there, they seem to be behind schedule. One speaker finishes his speech and another goes up. I try to stay relaxed. I wonder if I should go run through it one last time, but decide that that would only make me more nervous. The second speaker finishes his presentation and takes questions. I go to the ladies room to adjust my shawl and put on my bonnet. Jenn, the organizer, finally announces me. I walk to the front and set up a shaky metal stand, place my manuscript on it, and adjust my mic. I ask the audience, “How many of you have heard of Johnny Ringo?” They all raise their hands. I give a short intro on how this is Johnny's mom's journal of their trip cross country in a covered wagon . This intro gives me time to acclimate to my surroundings and the audience.

This is it. My hand shakes as I adjust the mic, but I know I can use the nerves to my advantage. The reading is going pretty well. I wish I had practiced a bit more so I could look up at the audience more often. I mess up a couple of lines, but I stay in character and keep going. Then I start to get into it. I surprise myself with some new expressions in the heat of the moment. The pauses that I planned are starting to build tension. And there it is. The climactic paragraph. I pause to reflect for a moment. When I resume, the emotion is all there. I tear up as I tell of my husband accidentally killing himself. I bow my head in reverence to God. And it is over. The audience applauds. Several people come up to me and tell me how good I did. Mark D says that the audience was so mesmerized that you could hear a pin drop. Thank God!