Foreword

 

Irecall once needing a pair of ears for Abraham Lincoln. I didn’t know if such a thing could be done, but I figured Dick Corson would, so I called.

“You want what?”

“Ears,” I said. “For Lincoln. I’m doing Abe for the Phoenix Theatre—you know, Sherwood’s play, and I’m working out the makeup.”

“And you need ears.”

“Yes, they were very big. Enormous, when you think about it,” I said. “I figure without the ears it won’t come out right.”

“But with them …?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you come on over?”

Dick always had a sense of humor about me. We became friends after he helped carry a table to the theatre in Lakeside, Ohio, when I needed help and couldn’t get it. That was many years ago.

“Now, let me explain, Hal, that I’ve never done ears like ...

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