South Pacific

Several weeks ago I caught the tail end of a Carnegie Hall Concert presentation of South Pacific with Reba McIntire, Brian Stokes Mitchell and Alex Baldwin in lead roles. It was delightful and I learned that it would be out on DVD in June. The original production was apparently done in June 2005. Well, I finally tracked it down and last night (6/21/06) I watched it. It is certainly worth the price of admission, but I never thought that an old Rogers and Hammerstein musical would bring tears to my eyes. Two songs in particular caught me right in the heart. “Some Enchanted Evening.” Find a stranger - no. But an enchanted evening, yes! We ate supper at Grandmother Taylor’s house with a bunch of relatives including Aunt Bertha who, as we left to go to Church that Sunday evening, assured me that the family found her “likable”. “We like her, Jim,” she said. When I took her home we sat on the porch and when the fire whistle blew we somehow had to go out and find the fire. It was a lumber yard in the next town. When we got back we talked some more and when I finally kissed her I blurted out: “You are going to marry me, aren’t you?” That was in July and we were married the following April. “When you have found her, never let her go.” That lasted for over 54 years, but she is gone. Gone from this life, but not from my heart.

The second song was near the end of the second act when Emile sings “This Nearly Was Mine.” “One love to be living for, one girl for my dreams, one partner in paradise” Yes. If there is paradise we had to have a share of it. But then the words sung is deep sorrow: “Close to me heart she came, only to fly away. Now I am alone still dreaming of paradise.”

The play, of course, ends well and Emile and Nellie are together. I’m sure that I’ll have more to say about eternity some time in the future.