June 8, 15, 1947
No plays were produced from 1943 through 1946 because of World War II. Many Players were gone to war or working on the home front. Gasoline and tires were rationed and travel was difficult.
Before the Spring Show could be revived, the Theatre had to be rebuilt. Nature had done much to reclaim it in those four years. A reprise of Sleeping Beauty was a good choice.
You shall prick your hand and sleep
Sleep a hundred years till magic
Greater than all death or pain
Comes within the silent castle
Wakens you to laugh again.
“‘The thickets are turning to roses!’ cries the brave and handsome Prince, as he plunges through the forest of matted thorns that have grown up for a hundred years around the palace of the Sleeping Beauty. And this was likewise the cry of The Mountaineer Players last spring as they breasted through the difficulties which the lapse of four war years had allowed to grow up around their project. . . .
“It is amazing how far and how firmly a Puget Sound forest can encroach upon a clearing in five years. Snow and storms had brought down trees across our stage, shattering the wings of cedar bark that had stood for years, while ferns and trees and grass had taken over the terraced hillside of the amphitheater. . . . Art Winder took unto his heart the reconstruction of the stage, and Harry Myers determined that now was the time to carry out a project long dreamed of but never accomplished during the years of depression, namely, the correct terracing and shoring up of the amphitheater.
“All this . . . meant work. Harry and a small group including T.D. Everts, Herman Wunderling, A.H. Hudson, and Harry Eastman spent repeated weekends at the theater, with others helping as they were able. Several large cedar snags were felled and bucked and good-sized chunks riven from them. This was heavy man’s work, but the women could make themselves useful by lugging the timbers to the theater, where more heavy labor was required in setting them edgewise into the hillside as risers for the steps of the terracing. . . .
“Meanwhile, under Art’s direction, the valleys were scoured for cedar bark, an extremely scarce commodity nowadays, and the theater wings were rebuilt. Time did not allow rebuilding of the mound, much as that was needed. Working under difficulties, Norbert Schaal got our special scenery up and devised a beautiful palace gate.
“The three rehearsals at the theater and the several work parties were all blessed by that heavenly weather. . . . Then came the weekend of June 7 and 8. ... A furious downpour on Saturday afternoon sent stage workers to crouch under the narrow shelter of the makeup shelf backstage and put a summary end to an important rehearsal before it began. Next morning the sun would shine hopefully one moment and a deluge would darken the world the next. Should we or shouldn’t we? What to do? We rehearsed in the cabin and put on our makeup. It became evident that a good-sized audience was arriving. . . . Act I fell into one of the happier phases of this checkerboard day, but upon Act II descended the deluge to end all deluges, as the lovely princess donned her wedding gown, got her finger pricked and laid her down in a pool to sleep. The storm passed and the rest of the day was drippingly dry.”
Harriet Walker, The Mountaineer, 1947
Player veterans recall that the princess swished her hand to disperse most of the rain on her couch before lying down. And who would fault her?