Last Saturday was the first day of the music part of the Catbird Festival. I guess I waited too long to write this, because the only thing I remember is that it was a blur of somewhat organized chaos. Ron, my Bethel partner in supervising the pavilion and backstage area was off for the weekend, so I was alone in organizing the staff- especially since most of my friends from our awesome outside security company were stationed elsewhere and I had to deal with a different group that was…less conscientious about their jobs. By that, I mean sitting when they’re supposed to stand, wandering off without telling their supervisors, watching the show instead of the crowd and sleeping at their post Fortunately, I did have a few of the good ones who helped me immensely. I’ve done my job solo before, but this was a little different- an all day/all night festival. Eleven bands each day. Unlike every other show that we have at Bethel, there was no security briefing. No meeting to go over the security needs of the bands, the details of the shows or what to expect from the fans. This led to a weekend of running around like a crazy person, constantly talking to band managers, festival promoters, usher/volunteer supervisors and my security guards. I won’t say it was disorganized, but communication was less than stellar. In the end, it all worked out, but it was a bit exhausting.
I caught up with the Lumineer’s manager just before their set and found out that their singer comes off the stage twice during the show. Probably the most important bit of information to know about a performance. I was told that no security was needed to lead or follow him out, which to me is crazy. Then I was told that the keyboard player comes out into the crowd and again, no security. I was given song cues and I informed the guards and the ushers. The singer did his thing without issue Unfortunately, the keyboard player got either too excited or a little confused and decided to run out into the crowd during the wrong song. Nobody was prepared for it or expecting it and he plowed into one of our ushers, knocking her down to the floor. She was badly shaken, but ok.
Outside of that one incident, there weren’t any other issues and I was happy to put the first night of the festival behind me and I was very much looking forward to the upcoming eight hours before the next call time.
Sunday was equally as chaotic as Saturday, but at least I knew what to expect. Busyness, craziness and lots of running around. The weekend was so hectic that all I really remember is the end of the festival. When the final performers wrapped it up, I took my usual place in front of the stage, watching for an overeager fan to do something stupid. There was one show last year, where a fan decided to climb up on the stage and I somehow jumped up the five foot high stage after him and saved his life before somebody else could tackle and beat him- that probably would never happen at Bethel, but I’ve seen it done at other venues. There are always a bunch people clamoring for a guitar pick or a set list and there are always one or two who have a personal story to share about the band and how their music saved them or changed their life and how they just want to meet the band and thank them. I can appreciate all of this. I love music. I’ve been there, as a fan.
One woman was up front in tears, begging me and other guards for literally anything from the show. She told her story. She was a cancer survivor, just got engaged and I didn’t realize it at the time, but needed a wheelchair to get around. The headliner, Tyler Childers, a 32 year old musician from Kentucky. I knew nothing about him, but his music resonated with this woman and helped get her through her cancer treatments. People often beg, plead, offer money- or other types of barters- for some concert memorabilia, but this woman was different. She was sincere and there was just something about her that made me want to help. We had cleared out everyone else from pavilion when she asked one more time if there was anything at all she could get from the show. The set lists were already handed out and the crew had already begun loading out. I rarely, if ever do this, but I said give me a minute and I ran backstage. I looked all over for a set list. I checked the stage for a pick. I walked through the dressing room hallway, which was now pretty much empty. Most of the bands clear out fairly quickly, as they have another show to do, several hours away, but in the last dressing room, there was a man and woman talking. The man had an acoustic guitar strapped around his neck. I knocked on the open door and apologized for interrupting them and I explained the situation. The woman immediately jumped up and we frantically searched for I don’t even know what. Something from the show. Anything Just as we were about to give up, I looked at the dressing room door and there was a laminated sign that said “Tyler Clilders.” I said, what about that?” She pulled it down and said, “Perfect!” and handed it to me. Apparently, this whole process took a little while, so I quickly ran back out to the front of the stage, excited to hand the sign to the woman, but she was gone. I asked the few remaining guards where she went. One of them said, “The woman in the wheelchair? She left.” Like I said, I had no idea she was in a wheelchair and this made the mission even more important. I didn’t know if the ADA carts were still running people up to the parking lots or if they had to walk up to the main exit. I took a chance and ran to the lower ADA area as quickly as my out of shape legs and lungs would take me. When I got there, there was only one couple left, literally about to board the last cart of the night. I touched the woman’s shoulder and as she turned to me, I handed her the sign. She immediately bursted into tears and could barely speak to thank me. Her husband, with tears in his eyes said, “You have no idea how much this means to her.” To most, it was just a laminated piece of paper that one of the staff members printed from a computer, but to this woman, it was a souvenir that would forever hold a moment in time and bring her one step closer to a musician who made a huge impact in her life.
With tears in her eyes, she asked if she could give me a hug and as she did, I felt like the whole weekend of insanity was worthwhile.
I'm better on paper... 