Because of the peculiarities of the Detroit school system, I had Mrs. Zeve for 2A and 3B, but a whole school year, which was unusual for the Pasteur Elementary School. (I think of her as my second grade teacher, though that wasn’t technically true.) She was a 32 year old divorcée with a young daughter of her own, named Rhonda. She had been a Radio and Communications Major at the University of Michigan. Now she needed to earn a living and became an elementary school teacher. I absolutely adored her from the start.

And I know she loved me too. I was shy, starting into that gawky phase. I got glasses while I was her student. She also wore glasses and somehow made it seem alright for me. Even though everyone called me Betsy, she knew my real name was Elizabeth and asked if I’d been named for Elizabeth Taylor. This was 1959-60, when Elizabeth Taylor was the most beautiful woman on earth. Oh yeah, I thought Mrs. Zeve was terrific.

Of course she taught us all the subjects except art and PE, but her speciality was reading. She often read aloud to us, doing unique voices for each of the characters. I can still hear her reading “Charlotte’s Web” to us, snarling as Templeton, a light voice for Charlotte, innocence for Wilbur. I refused to ever see the cartoon; I didn’t want any other voices to ever erase Mrs. Zeve’s in my head.

She had us act out stories too and soon learned that I had a good cackle (who knew?) so I frequently read the witch when we did fairy tales. This began my life-long ambition to be an actress, which she encouraged. I suspect she had harbored a similar dream.

A few years later, she was thrilled when I was cast as Gretel in the all-school production of “Hansel and Gretel”. This was a huge coup, as my elementary school was K-8 and I was only a 5th grader. She was my biggest fan. I once visited her at her home on a Saturday and met Rhonda. We had her over for dinner one night some years later. I remember she had a delicate stomach; she couldn’t eat tomatoes and certain other foods.

When I was in 11th grade, she came to see me in my high school play. I played Elaine in “Arsenic and Old Lace”. I was thrilled that all those years later, she was still my biggest fan. Her birthday was two days before mine and for nine years we faithfully exchanged birthday cards, hers always addressed to “My Sweet Betsy”…until my senior year in high school. I found it odd that after all those years she didn’t send me a card.

Two months later, my mother got a call from a friend who was Mrs. Zeve’s cousin. She had died of stomach cancer. She was 42 years old. I was stricken; beyond grief. My mother took me to her funeral. I said goodbye a final time.

But I still carry her with me. She supported a shy little girl and encouraged her to get out of herself and become a character on the stage. She saw my potential. I will always love her.

Though he is five years my elder, my brother and I have always been close. He is super-smart and he did help me with some homework when I was a kid and looked to him for guidance. He left for Brandeis as I began 8th grade. My mother’s sisters predicted that I would flunk out of school. Just to spite them, I proceeded to get straight A’s for the next five years. I may not be as smart as Rick, but I’m no slouch.

I missed him very much; even more when he went off to Israel for two years to study for the rabbinate just as I began my college life at Brandeis. Then we really could barely communicate, except by aerogram and we were both too busy for many of those. I was very happy when he returned just as I entered my Junior year. He was in Cincinnati at Hebrew Union College, I was in Waltham, MA. A long distance call was expensive. Yet, there were times when I just needed to spit ball.

I and not, by nature, a procrastinator, but I didn’t like writing long papers and would put those off. Talking to Rick was a great way to procrastinate. We’d talk about everything under the sun, but also, I’d bounce ideas for the paper off of him. He was always a good sounding board for me; about my school work or life in general, a win-win. After a good conversation with him, I was full of ideas and ready to tackle the subject at hand.

In retrospect, thanks Rick, for being such a great big brother! You are compassionate and clever and have given me lots of great advice along the way.

Shortly after we married, in the mid-70s, we had a lot of friends living in New York City and we’d visit often, driving in, staying on the pullout sofa with Paul and Beth. Jeffrey and Susan, residents to this day, always had a pulse on what was au courant. In 1975 they told us about this fascinating, innovative show they’d seen Off Broadway. Soon it was the talk of the town and moved, with great acclaim, to the Great White Way. It was “A Chorus Line”.

Everyone I knew was buzzing about it. It won the Tony Award for Best Musical and the Pulitzer Prize in 1976. I couldn’t wait to see it, but couldn’t get tickets until early in 1977. This was a show for ME, that frustrated actress who never got cast (not that I went to New York, I didn’t have the gumption for that).

I sat there spell bound as each character told their own back story; the heartbreak of rejection – one who finds solace in her ballet class, one who comes out of the closet, one whose dance audition score card always read, “Dance- 10, Looks – 3”, so she got plastic surgery (great song – I still love to sing “Tits and Ass”… get yourself a fancy pair, tighten up your derriere, keep the best of you, do the rest of you!). And the fading star who just wants to work, played originally by the great Donna McKechnie from Royal Oak, Michigan. By the time we got to see the show, she had left for other opportunities, but is on the original cast album, which of course I wore out, listening to it.

We saw the show again when the National Tour came to Boston. It became the longest running show on Broadway at the time, had a long, successful run in London and a successful revival. The movie was beyond pathetic. Actually, I never saw it, but the reviews said it all; they changed the concept and killed the show. DO NOT SEE IT!

Years later, a revival of “Sweet Charity” came through Boston, starring Donna McKechnie. It is a silly show, but we enjoyed it. Great dance numbers, fun music.

We went to the Ritz Café for dessert after. Who should come in with her entourage and sit a few seats away from us but Donna herself. I knew we went to the same high school and heard she was friends with the daughter of my parents’ best friends, so I decided I’d politely go chat. Dan was mortified, “You aren’t really going to approach her, are you?” “Why not? I have a personal connection.”

So I began by telling her how much we had just enjoyed her as Charity (I thought that was a good way to begin). She seemed pleased. I went on to tell her that I, too, had gone to Royal Oak Dondero High School. She seemed genuinely surprised. I said I’d been told that she was friends with Judy Berry, whose parents were my parents’ best friends. Her brow furrowed for a moment. She was digging deep into the memory bank, but had a eureka moment. She remembered and was so pleased that I’d brought her those greetings. I left her alone with her minions after that.

One, singular sensation…

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