Creating "Pouring the Sun" by Jay O'Callahan Reprinted from The Tale Trader
The Story Store Focus this issue is on creating "Pouring the Sun," a long story about an immigrant woman in a steelmaking city. Creating
a long story is like joining the army. It takes time, it opens you
to a new world and changes you.
In January of 1996, I stood with a former steelworker on Fourth
Street in the steel making city of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania at sunrise
on a freezing winter morning. The streets were still empty. A block
away the great black blast furnaces looked like frozen black castles.
They sat silent. I looked up at Webster Street, one of the many
steep streets on the South Side. My friend, Francis, in his late
seventies said, "Forty years I came down this street for my shift.
For a hundred years steel workers came down these streets going
'to work.
"Different nationalities?" I asked.
"Oh yeah. Down Hayes Street, you had Italians. Ridge Street was
Polish and Russian. Maybe some Lithuanian. Then you had the Windish."
"Windish?"
"Yugoslavian. Then Irish, German, and Greek. You had everybody.
There used to be a Mexican village right on the steel property.
That was way back."
"Hey, Louis," Francis called to a spare man in an overcoat. "How
about some coffee? My friend, Jay, here is writing a story about
steel."
Louis was a thin, black eyed man in his late seventies.
"I worked in the steel in 1936," Louis said. "The beams we made
became the Golden Gate Bridge."
I was standing on the frozen street because I'd agreed to create
and perform a story about steel making and the steel making community
of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. Bridget George, managing director of
the Touchstone Theater, had asked me and Lehigh University then
commissioned me to do the story.
I interviewed steelworkers, historians, waitresses, engineers, a
former president of Bethlehem Steel, steel salesmen, professors,
waitresses, union organizers and former superintendents and foremen.
After two years I knew a lot about steel and thought the story was
too big to do.
The story had become so overwhelming, I wrote Bridgett George of
the Touchstone Theater saying the story was too big to do. Bridgett
wrote back saying, "Trust that you'll find the story in one moment.
And if you don't do the story, you'll break my heart." That was
the perfect thing to say. Bridgett supported me, she believed in
me. No one, certainly no artist, can create without support. That
was the first lesson. Get support.
The second lesson was realizing that I could only provide a window
into the steel making community. I couldn't do all the stories.
I had to choose who it would be about and let the story be. Taking
Bridgett's advice I was on the lookout for one moment.
I sat down with 82 year old John Waldony in his living room and
felt warmed by his humor. John, who had been a local union president
at Bethlehem Steel, told me stories about his dad, Fritz, working
all his life for Bethlehem Steel. John talked of his dad's drinking
to "cut the dust." John also told me of his involvement in the violent
strike in 1941. John said, "The State Police came in on horseback
and broke up the strike with clubs. They called them the Coal and
Iron Police." His details were vivid and sharp. I was onto the story.
The next crucial step was sitting down with John Waldony's sister,
Mary Soltysiak, in her kitchen at 721 Ridge Street. Ridge Street
is at the top of one of the steep hills, and from Mary's kitchen
I could see the blast furnaces far below. "Yeah," Mary said, "We
had the flecks all over the vegetables." Mary's voice is bright
and strong. "Our mother got us through," Mary said. "In the Depression
our mother got us through. She was tough."
Mary and John's mother, Ludvika Moskal, came to American by herself
when she was eighteen. I was struck by the image of a young woman
setting out on her own with little money, little education and no
English. Ludvika became a force that nothing, including the Depression,
could defeat. The image of that young woman standing on a ship coming
to America, was alive to me. I had my moment. I could see the story
in her eyes.
I learned several things that are crucial to creating a big story.
I mentioned support and not trying to do too big a story. I also
learned the importance of commitment. For two years I felt I could
back out of the project, but the day that I made a firm commitment
things began to move.
Trust the images. Imagining steelworkers coming down those steep
hills, brought the whole South Side alive to me. The image of Ludvika
on the ship had fire for me. Images are like torches leading us
through the dark. I had to remind myself over and over to trust
the images.
I learned once again that having a feeling for the place of the
story is all important. I walked the South Side of Bethlehem over
and over. I visited the union hall. I toured the steel plant. I
sat in Mary's kitchen where Ludvika had spend so much of her life.
Kitchen talk is the real thing.
I knew the story needed a chance to grow. Stories grow when they're
told to people. I scheduled times to tell "Pouring the Sun" in living
rooms as I toured the country. In between tellings, I worked on
scenes with Doug Lipman. A full year before the Steel Festival,
I told "Pouring the Sun" as a Work in Progress at the Touchstone
Theater.
I also had many rehearsals at my house. I invited neighbors and
they brought friends.
Making the story was like climbing the Appalachian Trail. There
were times I could not believe how steep the hills were. There were
times when the fog was thick and I lost my way. And there were times
when I just loved the beauty of the characters.
I finally performed "Pouring The Sun" at the Steel Festival. The
night was blustery, a hurricane was sweeping over the east coast.
Mary Soltysiak and John Waldony came with the Waldony family. Steel
workers came, community people came. Mary said after the story,
"You're part of our family now." The story had grown up. "Pouring
the Sun" gave me a deep respect for the immigrants who built the
great cities of this country.
Jay O'Callahan | P.O. Box 1054, Marshfield, MA 02050
For contact or order information: (800) 626-5356
email: jay@ocallahan.com
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