Annie Ain’t Here

There’s a part in Annie where Miss Hannigan asks, “Where’s Annie?” after Annie has escaped the orphanage in a laundry cart. All the orphans answer in unison, “Annie ain’t here!”

 A few months back ArtXecute had a moment like that of our own when we went to the storage unit where we’d stored everything from our production of Annie. We yanked up the door to the storage unit, peered inside and asked in stunned amazement, “Where’s Annie?” The answer ultimately turned out to be, “Annie ain’t here.”

 Our stuff—our props, costumes, furniture, equipment—virtually everything was gone! Stolen out of our storage unit.

 And I say stuff, but the things we’d stored from our production of Annie were so much more than just stuff. Many of the things that were taken were treasures that represented special memories not just for us but for the generous people who sold or donated them to ArtXecute in support of our mission.

 For instance, Fully Dressed was one of our cast members’ favorite numbers. The antique radio that our girls gathered around in that scene was more than a prop. It belonged to a woman’s mother who had recently passed away. She was so happy to hear that the radio would be repurposed for such a worthy cause. And it was. It brought our students so much joy to dance and sing around that precious treasure. Gone.

 Then there was the vintage wheelchair that I traveled hundreds of miles to Virginia to purchase. At over a hundred years old, it was beautiful—weathered but beautiful. One of the funniest moments in one of our performances of Annie is when the lights came up just as the actor playing FDR got out of the wheelchair and walked off stage! I couldn’t help but laugh with the audience! Gone.

 I’ve spoken to several people who’ve had their homes burglarized, and the one thing they all describe is the vulnerability and violation they felt after having strangers scavenge through their belongings. We get it.

 We say this over and over again—ArtXecute’s mission extends well beyond the stage. Our aim is to harness the power of theatre to teach our students the disciplines of life. Resilience is one of those disciplines. We often say to our students and have them repeat, “Life happens. The show must go on.”

 The thieves who broke into our storage unit took our stuff, but that’s all they got. Our memories are still safe and sound. And together, we'll gather the things necessary to create new ones.

 We stand undeterred in the face of this loss and boldly declare, “Life happens. The show must go on.”

 And ours will because no one can steal our purpose.

ArtXecute’s Empty Storage Unit
Photo by Nicol Lofton