Here’s Looking At You

Although we attended the same high school in Maryland, our situations couldn’t have been more different. Alton was a senior who had been captain of our school’s team for It’s Academic (TV quiz show for high school students). He’d been accepted to Georgetown University, and nearly everyone thought he would become an attorney.

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I was a movie-loving sophomore whose family had moved to Maryland from Kentucky the year before. To say I battled culture shock is putting it mildly. Even so, I did like some things about my new home. Columbia is located between Baltimore and Washington D.C., which meant we picked up the TV stations from both cities. Besides the regular lineup of channels, both cities had independent stations that showed classic films. And best of all, Channel 9 in Washington featured a show late on Saturday nights called Cinema Club Nine. It aired films similar to the ones you’d see on TCM today. I never missed it if I could help it.

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During the week, I focused on my classes. That’s partly because I liked my teachers and partly because I felt more comfortable in a classroom environment. I must have done reasonably well–one of my teachers suggested I try out for the 1973 It’s Academic team.

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Stage One‍

It’s Academic meeting

Spring 1972

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The first round of It’s Academic tryouts were held in spring at the TV station in Baltimore. Students planning to try out were told to attend a meeting where we’d be given relevant information (date, time, etc).

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I walked in to find the room virtually empty. Alton lay sprawled across a desk, apparently taking a nap. I waved at one of the other guys in the room.

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“Hey, are you here for the It’s Academic meeting?”

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He shrugged. “Nope. I’m waiting on my friend. Don’t know what’s keeping him.”

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From across the room, I heard Alton yell, “The two of you, shut up!”

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Team captain or not, I thought he was the rudest guy I’d ever met.

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By the way, I made the team.

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Stage Two

Macbeth in DC

July 1973

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Our It’s Academic coach organized gatherings for team members, often to see plays or go to museums. One of these gatherings took place in the July after my junior year of high school. We went to see Macbeth at the Sylvan Theater in Washington one Saturday night. After the play, we went for a bite at The Tombs, a bar and restaurant in Washington’s historic Georgetown neighborhood. Alton was with the group; I suspect this may have played a role in the choice of venue.

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Being the youngest member of the group–and underage–I felt a bit intimidated. It seemed like a good time to concentrate on my Coke and listen while everyone else talked.

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Someone asked Alton, “Did Cecelia get back from Paris?’

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“Yes,” he said. “She brought me back a print. Said she had a great time.”

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I had no idea who Cecelia might be. Maybe they met at Georgetown. She must have money if she could go to Paris, and she had to like Alton if she brought him a gift. Sounded like a boyfriend/girlfriend situation to me.

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Eventually, though, the conversation shifted to the production we’d just seen. Its pros and cons. Someone mentioned Roman Polanski’s film version, then wondered aloud if there were other adaptations. 

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Without thinking, I blurted out, “Well, there’s Orson Welles’ version from 1948.”

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That brought the conversation to a halt. I sat there wishing that Lieutenant Commander Scott could beam me out of there, like on Star Trek.

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Then Alton said, “Yeah, I’ve heard of that one. They never seem to show it on TV, though. Too bad.”

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I managed to nod.

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“You know,” he said, “if you’re interested in movies, there’s a show you might want to check out. It’s called Cinema Club Nine. We’re missing it tonight, though.”

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My mouth fell open in surprise. I’d never told anyone I even knew about that show. Lately I’d started to wonder if anyone else watched it. The thought ran through my mind, Cecelia is a lucky girl.

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Stage Three (Part 1)

The Kennedy Center, Washington

September 1973‍

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One Saturday morning, my It’s Academic coach called. Alton had gotten tickets for the Kennedy Center that weekend. Apparently, it gave a discount for students. The tickets were for different performances (dance, music, etc) in a Shakespeare Festival being held over the month of September. Saturday’s performance was ballet. Would I be interested in going that afternoon? My answer: Emphatically, yes. That day, it was Alton, Coach, and me.

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Between acts, Coach and I went out to stretch our legs.

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“It’s really nice of Alton to take us,” I said. “I guess he’ll take Cecelia tonight.”

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“Who?”

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“Cecelia. You know, his girlfriend?”

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She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

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“The night we were at The Tombs, Alton mentioned her. He said Cecelia went to Paris and brought him back a print.”

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“That’s his sister.”

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“His sister?”

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“Yeah. She’s at school with you. C’mon, we’d better get back in.”

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After the performance, Alton asked if we’d like to come back the next day. I said sure, thinking Coach or somebody else would probably be with us.

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When I got home, I looked Cecelia up in my yearbook. Sure enough, I could see a family resemblance.

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Stage Three (Part Two)

The Kennedy Center, Washington

September 1973

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The next morning, Alton showed up at my house by himself.

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“Where’s Coach?” I asked.

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“She couldn’t make it. Neither could anyone else. Are you okay with just the two of us going?”

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Before I could answer, my parents walked into the room. They’d been hearing about Alton, and they wanted to meet him. I should mention Mom and Dad tended to be polite but reserved when they met my classmates. Not this time. Within a few minutes, they were laughing and joking as if they’d known Alton for years. Even so, I thought they should know this wouldn’t be a group outing. 

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“Uh, Mom. Alton says nobody else can make it today. It’ll just be the two of us.”

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She considered that a minute and nodded. “Then you’d better get going, You don’t want to be late.”

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We got into his car and began a conversation which lasted the entire drive into Washington. Films, books, stories from elementary school, places we wanted to travel, you name it. By the time we pulled into the Kennedy Center’s parking garage, it felt as if we’d been friends for years. 

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At intermission, he said hesitantly, “Would you mind if I consider this a date?”

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“Why?” I could feel myself tensing up. 

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“Well,” he seemed to be weighing his thoughts. “It’s not all that easy for a guy to ask a girl out. But you figure if she’s gone out with you once, she might go out with you again.”

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“Yeah. Okay.” 

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“Okay.” He smiled a little. “I saw they’re having a production of Full Circle by Erich Maria Remarque. Leonard Nimoy and Bibi Andersson. Would you like to go?”

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I could only nod. My mind was exploding. Mr. Spock from Star Trek! Bibi Andersson from Ingmar Bergman films! Both live onstage, and I’d be in the same room!

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When I got home, I told Mom we’d be going on another date. She broke into a wide smile. “That’s great, honey. Your dad and I liked him.”

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I smiled back. “Me, too.”

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And all these years later, I still do.