find? There are other sources out there.”
“Please.”
I waited while Addie worked her magic. It seemed to take forever but in reality was only about twenty seconds. “Okay. Lots of the same info as the movie site. A bit more about how he was snubbed for an Academy Award in some flick called Ebony Dreams . Late sixties. Huh. I never saw it. I guess it didn’t make it to Paris.”
“I did,” I told her. “Not Paris. I mean the film deserving an award. Or at least my memory included me talking about seeing it and how great it was. Go on.”
“Um. Some stuff about how he was pissed movies were getting trashy and mind-numbing in the sixties.” She chuckled. “As compared to soap opera plots and horror flicks of the fifties? Seriously? But I guess he was talking about what we now call blacksploitation films. The one good thing those films did was give black actors some employment. But apart from that, we’re talkin’ pure schlock.”
“Shane said something about those films. In the park. Assuming my memory is real.” I mused, “It sure seemed real. As if I was there, living in that very moment. So, have you found anything more on the personal side?”
“A little. He loved football. American football, although being Irish I’d imagine he was fond of rugby and soccer as well. Favorite team was the Dallas Cowboys.” Adelaide continued her enthusiastic review. “They were awesome back in the sixties. Don Meredith. Craig Morton. Roger Staubach. Now those guys were quarterbacks. So damned good. And of course you had the runners like Bob Hayes. And tackles like Rayfield Wright, who was also a major hunk and…”
“Terrific. Will you get on with it? I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be floating on the earth and I’d like some answers.”
Addie shushed me. “You’re so touchy for a spirit, young lady. Be patient. I have a growing suspicion you’ll be here for more than a day or two. It’s a process. You have to figure out why you’re here and what you’re supposed to do about fixing the problem. Then I guess you get to go into the light.”
“One can only hope. Meantime, please go on.”
“Well, your buddy loved motorcycles and drinking and brawling. But he never let anything interfere with his professionalism. The majority of his work in the sixties was for TV rather than film. Duh . See above for crappy roles for black men. Ooh. Neat. He sang.”
I nodded, forgetting Addie couldn’t see me. “He did. According to my flashback I saw him do Porgy and Bess up in New Haven.”
“Aha. Here it is. Played Sportin’ Life in Porgy and Bess . He also played the role of Hud in Hair in some summer stock theatre in upstate New York. Oh, wow! This is cool. He was involved in the first interracial cast of Carousel . Again in a summer stock theatre.” She read aloud. “‘Halloran busted traditional casting wide open with his magnificent portrayal of Billy Bigelow in Carousel .’ Ooh! Wait and hold the proverbial phone. I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Videos. Somebody might have plopped an old film they took during a performance and put it on the Songfest site. Give me just a sec.” She typed “Shane Halloran” and Carousel into some little bar space on the computer. “Hot damn! I’m brilliant. There it is. Or I should say, there he is.”
Shane appeared on the small screen, striding across the stage in a striped carnival barker’s shirt and black pants, singing the soliloquy from Carousel .
“Damn, Holly, he was good . Gorgeous and a voice to match the looks.”
“Addie!” I gasped. “I can’t believe this.”
“What?”
“I saw him in Carousel . I remember it. I swear I do. He was amazing. And I was there with him.”
Addie said, “Slow down, kiddo. You said you also remembered going to see him in Porgy and Bess . This may not mean anything. You may have taken the bus upstate and seen the show on your own.”
“No. I was with him. Backstage. Not in the audience. I did take
“Please.”
I waited while Addie worked her magic. It seemed to take forever but in reality was only about twenty seconds. “Okay. Lots of the same info as the movie site. A bit more about how he was snubbed for an Academy Award in some flick called Ebony Dreams . Late sixties. Huh. I never saw it. I guess it didn’t make it to Paris.”
“I did,” I told her. “Not Paris. I mean the film deserving an award. Or at least my memory included me talking about seeing it and how great it was. Go on.”
“Um. Some stuff about how he was pissed movies were getting trashy and mind-numbing in the sixties.” She chuckled. “As compared to soap opera plots and horror flicks of the fifties? Seriously? But I guess he was talking about what we now call blacksploitation films. The one good thing those films did was give black actors some employment. But apart from that, we’re talkin’ pure schlock.”
“Shane said something about those films. In the park. Assuming my memory is real.” I mused, “It sure seemed real. As if I was there, living in that very moment. So, have you found anything more on the personal side?”
“A little. He loved football. American football, although being Irish I’d imagine he was fond of rugby and soccer as well. Favorite team was the Dallas Cowboys.” Adelaide continued her enthusiastic review. “They were awesome back in the sixties. Don Meredith. Craig Morton. Roger Staubach. Now those guys were quarterbacks. So damned good. And of course you had the runners like Bob Hayes. And tackles like Rayfield Wright, who was also a major hunk and…”
“Terrific. Will you get on with it? I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be floating on the earth and I’d like some answers.”
Addie shushed me. “You’re so touchy for a spirit, young lady. Be patient. I have a growing suspicion you’ll be here for more than a day or two. It’s a process. You have to figure out why you’re here and what you’re supposed to do about fixing the problem. Then I guess you get to go into the light.”
“One can only hope. Meantime, please go on.”
“Well, your buddy loved motorcycles and drinking and brawling. But he never let anything interfere with his professionalism. The majority of his work in the sixties was for TV rather than film. Duh . See above for crappy roles for black men. Ooh. Neat. He sang.”
I nodded, forgetting Addie couldn’t see me. “He did. According to my flashback I saw him do Porgy and Bess up in New Haven.”
“Aha. Here it is. Played Sportin’ Life in Porgy and Bess . He also played the role of Hud in Hair in some summer stock theatre in upstate New York. Oh, wow! This is cool. He was involved in the first interracial cast of Carousel . Again in a summer stock theatre.” She read aloud. “‘Halloran busted traditional casting wide open with his magnificent portrayal of Billy Bigelow in Carousel .’ Ooh! Wait and hold the proverbial phone. I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Videos. Somebody might have plopped an old film they took during a performance and put it on the Songfest site. Give me just a sec.” She typed “Shane Halloran” and Carousel into some little bar space on the computer. “Hot damn! I’m brilliant. There it is. Or I should say, there he is.”
Shane appeared on the small screen, striding across the stage in a striped carnival barker’s shirt and black pants, singing the soliloquy from Carousel .
“Damn, Holly, he was good . Gorgeous and a voice to match the looks.”
“Addie!” I gasped. “I can’t believe this.”
“What?”
“I saw him in Carousel . I remember it. I swear I do. He was amazing. And I was there with him.”
Addie said, “Slow down, kiddo. You said you also remembered going to see him in Porgy and Bess . This may not mean anything. You may have taken the bus upstate and seen the show on your own.”
“No. I was with him. Backstage. Not in the audience. I did take
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