Moving Staircase

The first time I spoke with Rachel was years ago at the old Red Eye. She was crying and no one was with her so I asked if she was okay. She said she was going through a break up plus a big, bad health diagnosis. My heart just broke open. She was not just covering up, like, "Oh, I’m fine" or anything. I felt honored she would be so open and vulnerable with me. She knew I'd had a huge helping of dire life and death events. We bonded over this unspoken, pain in common, which continued through our shared interest in death and spy culture, when she was preparing for "Traces" last year. Later, when the Theater was readying for the move to its new home. things were being sold. One of the items was the rolling staircase. Rachel really wanted me to buy it! She knew I loved falling/dancing down stairs and I'd used it for rigging a different Rachel's work, "Print Culture." I'd had to show my Clowns of the U.S. liability insurance to use the stairs. "Sally, you should get it! It's for YOU!" she exclaimed. It was cheap, only $50, but where in the world would I put it and how would I even move it? But you know what, four days before Rachel passed in July, I drove out to White Bear Lake to look at a much smaller version of that moving staircase, being sold on craigslist. This puny one was so inadequate and hard and hurt my body and I texted Rachel with photos. I need that magnificent moving staircase now. Prophetic Rachel, you knew I needed that magnificent moving staircase. -Sally