Grounded

Live theater is exciting. Although viewing a play on a movie screen or on TV is entertaining, live theater brings the show to life in a way that can't be captured on film. Recently I had the privilege to be in the pit orchestra for a community production of "Peter Pan." This was the famous 1954 Mary Martin Broadway version.

The theater for this production had an actual sunken pit for the orchestra that raised or lowered via hydraulics. When not needed for sunken purposes, the pit floor can be raised up to stage level as an extension of the proscenium. When the pit is lowered, there's a barrier wall surrounding it in front of the audience.

The pit itself is a fairly spacious area. For this play, the orchestra conductor was in the middle with his back to the surrounding wall and facing the stage. Musicians were arrayed in a semi-circle in front of him. My own seat was center-back facing the conductor; as the lone cello for this production, the string bass and I defended the back of the pit.

One of the signature moments for this production occurred at the very end when the bows concluded. Peter Pan's extra-special bow was to fly from the stage over the orchestra out to the audience, toss sparkly confetti "fairy dust" and swing back to the stage. From my vantage point in the back of the pit and somewhat under the stage, I can't see anything happening on stage but I can see the sandbag test flyovers at every rehearsal and also saw Peter Pan fly over my head at every show until – well, until this:

Every evening the orchestra had an early call time, so we were in place nightly ahead of the variety of sound checks, scene change practices and other technical aspects. The tech crew thought the orchestra would enjoy seeing Peter Pan's practice flyover since we're always buried in music when that occurs at the end of the show.

Instead of the usual sandbag tests, the handlers had Peter Pan himself harnessed for the practice fly. So we all awaited the 3-2-1 countdown to see Peter Pan soar effortlessly over our heads to the highest peak beyond the stage. As he swung back, somehow his cable line dropped lower and his legs crashed against the outer pit wall. Gasps! Other crew members surrounded him immediately and attended to him. Several ice bags and towels appeared. We learned that Peter Pan had gashes on his legs causing bleeding, so the in-house first-aid folks sprang into action.

I can still hear the awful "thud" and see him hit the wall. A deadly feeling came over me as I cradled my cello and rested my chin on my arm. "Please don't let him be hurt. Please don't let him have a broken leg or some other equally terrible injury," I implored silently. After about 10 minutes, Peter Pan was helped to his feet and escorted back stage.

Just like the psalmist in Ps. 139, I thank God that Peter Pan is "fearfully and wonderfully made." His petite body, while no match for the immovable and harsh orchestra pit wall, had its own fairy dust and resiliency. No bones were broken. While he needed stitches on a skin gash after the show, Peter Pan bravely did the entire show that night flawlessly.

We only learned the part about the stitches on the next evening before the show when Peter Pan came on stage for microphone checks. He looked down into the pit, thanked everyone for our supportive thoughts and told us about his minor injuries. When we asked, "Are you going to do that flyover again?" he responded soberly, "No. I'm grounded."

Indeed, you are grounded. You are grounded in the love of God for you.

[Sr. Nancy Linenkugel is a Sylvania Franciscan sister and chair of the department of Health Services Administration at Xavier University, Cincinnati, Ohio.]