At seven-thirty am on a crisp October morning in 1968, I took my leave of Montreal on CPR’s “The Canadian” bound for Vancouver. In those days, one could get a “roomette” for about $300.00 and, as was my wont, that was (and still is) the only way to travel – as close to First Class as I could get. Back then, all of one’s meals were included in the ticket price; sitting down in the dining car beside a big window is still a visceral memory. This glorious country sped by my window over a three day period and my new life in the West began without any fanfare or to-do as I stepped off the train into (then) Union Station on a Monday morning.

Thankfully, because of Buddy Doucette and Addy Wintermans, two wonderful people with whom I’d become friends in Nova Scotia and who were taking up residence in Vancouver, I had a place to live. And, also thankfully, Addy, a graduate Theatre Major, was directing a production of “No Trifling with Love” at the University of British Columbia and had asked me to choreograph the dance portions of the costume drama. That was how it ALL started. Remembering back, my existence became real at that point. Up to then, I was testing life, trying things out but not really committing. There was no turning back now. I was IN it and had to make my own way. And make it I did!

The first thing I became aware of was the air. Sea air is invigorating I found. For me, there is something fundamental about being close to open water. I think it’s probably a vestige of a previous existence. I felt more “at home” and comfortable being near the water (and still do) and all the years of being drawn to Hawaii for vacations feeds something inside my core. So that was Ground Zero and for the next thirteen years, I lived on the West Coast.

         Work came quickly and rather easily for me. While doing Addy’s show at UBC, I met a community of theatre craftspeople who would be a part of my life over the decades to follow, people I’m still in touch with today! It was there I came to know Richard Ouzounian, Lorne Kennedy, Goldie Semple, Michelle Fisk, Brent Carver, John Innes, Roger Baron, Roger Dunn, Nicola Lipman, Nicola Cavendish and the list goes on, all of them now Canadian Theatre Royalty. We did a spectacular production of “Much Ado About Nothing” under the meticulous guidance of the marvelously creative Richard Ouzounian (who would come back into my life in a major way years later in Winnipeg) using Stephen Sondheim’s songs to expand on the Shakespeare text (and what better choice?). From UBC, after a student production of “Glass Menagerie” (photo above)  I moved downtown, so to speak, and was cast as ‘Smitty’ (left) in a memorable production of “Fortune and Men’s Eyes directed by Patrick Horgan at the Vancouver Playhouse’s Second Stage on Seymour Street (which later became the Arts Club). There I met Tony Holland and Joy Coghill (who was running the Playhouse at that time) and Bill Millerd (in his first professional show as Stage Manager!!) and sailed into the heady world of Actors’ Equity.

I was of two minds about “going Equity”. There was a catch-22 involved as once “in”, I couldn’t do much of anything outside the professional realm. Fortunately, Vancouver offered a lot of stage opportunities and I took advantage of them when I could. I kept meeting people who guided me through the intricacies of auditions and choices and, amazingly, ended up in Company of the Western Dance Theatre run by the legendary Norbert Vesak!

Re-reading that last sentence at this point in time still amazes me. Being a contemporary dancer was not something I had ever envisioned for myself. I’d done a fair amount of dance training in my Banff years and in Montreal (with Sonia Chamberlain), but this was HARD!! The physical discipline and control pushed me to another level and a greater awareness of my capabilities. My first major foray into this world was in a production (in conjunction with, again, the Playhouse Theatre) called “Land Before Time”. It was a full-length ballet based on a series of Eskimo legends. We wore masks and white costumes and sweated a LOT as the masks covered our faces which made breathing a chore and the Eskimo costumes were made of wool! But I can still remember the magical effect of the electronic music, the stark white stage design and lighting and looking through the mask’s eyes and it all feeling other worldly. The Company’s next major production was an abstract piece called “Pierrot Lunaire” using the 12-tone music of Arnold Schoenberg. That really did it me in. It was beyond me, and while I did some of the initial studio performances, my “technique” was really not where it should have been. Norbert was demanding, rightfully so, asking more of his dancers than I could deliver and my next involvement with his creativity was as a writer. I look back and can scarce bring myself to believe that his critically acclaimed ballet called “Belong” was based on a poem I had written for Norbert as a thank-you for giving me the experiences of dance. The program for the premiere had a copy of the poem and thanks for the inspiration. I lost touch with Norbert as time went on but his influence on the Canadian dance world is still felt today and I’m proud to have been a small part of it … way back when.

And then there was Isy’s Supper Club! Oh, Lord!

Located on Georgia Street in Vancouver, it was the second major Showroom in Vancouver, the first being The Cave. Back in “the day” people went out to Nightclubs for drinks and entertainment. In the late sixties (and for years before) Nightclubs were where major musical acts appeared (long before stadiums and arenas). Isy’s was small, seating about 350 people. Dinner was served before the show and booze flowed during. It had a storied past mostly centered around Isy Walters, the carny old showman who owned and operated it. He was a cantankerous old guy who knew everything and everyone in that part of the business and took no guff from anyone.

An audition call had gone out from Isy’s for performers for a Cabaret they were putting on for a couple of weeks between headliners and, having nothing to lose, I went out for it. It was being directed and choreographed by a man named Jack Card. Guess I impressed enough and was cast. It wasn’t until we began rehearsals that I realized I was in a drag show (must have missed something in the audition announcement) and I was one of the featured singers amid performers wearing miles of feather boas and sequined costumes, and a lot of screaming and carryings-on. Well, it was only two weeks and I could weather it. The short story is that I ended up staying on at Isy’s for the next two years!!

The night the Cabaret closed, Jack called me into the old man’s office and they asked if I was interested in becoming the in-house warm-up act with a group of dancing girls backing me up. My heart skipped a beat. “Of course!” I said. We shook hands and that was it. “But we have a problem”, Isy said. “Your name is too long. ‘Richard Blackhurst’ won’t fit on the marquis out front. You have a choice; it’s either ‘Richard Black’ or ‘Richard Hurst’” and that’s how I changed my name. “Richard Hurst and the Debs” appeared on the marquis a couple of weeks later and my life changed … again!

Over the months that followed, Jack created a series of opening numbers for me and the girls and we opened for some heavy duty folks – Sarah Vaughn, Buddy Rich, Lionel Hampton – and some not so heavy duty performers – the “unique” Tiny Tim (for those of you born after 1970 Google the name to see who THAT was!), A-list stripper Tempest Storm, sex-change comedian Liz Lyons (once Lee Leonard on the Vegas circuit), the legendary Sally Rand (yeah, burlesque ran deep in Isy’s background – photo of Sally (Google her, too) above with me in the background; in reviewing this show, a newspaper critic took it upon himself to ask “What’s a nice boy like Richard Hurst doing in a place like this?” Really!), The Sons of the Pioneers (Roy Rogers back-up group), The Aliis (a Hawaiian group) – and I made friendships that lasted long after some of these folks left town. The band was led by Bobby Herriot and featured some of the best musicians on the West Coast – Ian MacDougall, Bobby Hales to name a couple – and they were incredibly supportive with musical arrangements and encouragement for a young performer who, at the start,  had no idea what he was doing, but learned fast … REAL fast!

One night warming up for Buddy Rich, my mic went down during “Didn’t We, Girl”. My Opera training (singing loud!) kicked in and I carried on acoustically. When Buddy finished his opening number, he spoke (which he didn’t do very often – he was a mean bastard, too) and said he wanted to “acknowledge that young “cat” who is a real professional and carried on with the song despite the technical difficulties. Let’s give the kid a hand, folks!” That felt good!

While we were in Burlesque mode, which happened from time to time, the strippers who were brought in schooled me in life on the road The girls had been through it all and landing a gig at Isy’s was, for them, hitting the “big time” compared to what they were used to. They would smoke pot in their dressing rooms before going on, just to “loosen up”, they said. “Want some?” I was asked one night just before going on. Couldn’t hurt, I thought, and took a few tokes. Felt pretty good. I was very relaxed as I walked into place on stage. The curtains opened, the lights hit me and the orchestra started. I began to sing a song I’d done a hundred times before and slowly realized that I didn’t remember whether or not I had actually sung the line before the one I was singing now! That thought began to spiral downward as it took control of my mind. What song was I doing? Had I sung this verse already? Had the dance break happened? Was that the right melody? Am I going crazy!!?? I think I scared myself into “sobering” up and I got through it only because muscle memory kicked in and instinct took over. I never went on any stage stoned again!

Jack Card took us on the road a few times. Fondly remembered is working at The Embers in Edmonton for a summer with, now, Senator Tommy Banks as our Musical Director. Touring was a blast, especially with the Debs. They were as innocent as I was but always up for adventures. Our lives were a mix of two-shows-a-night, partying with the headliners, sleeping in and shopping or going to movies during the day. Those days were the first (and close to last) time I tried LSD (again, Google time for the young). I was growing up fast! No ill effects from the drugs (except for those “seeing-God” moments that, strangely, I can still conjure up!) and I came through it mostly unscathed, eventually gaining an insight into how one should be a professional, act responsibly (because no one was going to make you responsible) and intelligently (as Mom would always remind me in her letters). But, in time, it all came to an end. Isy’s club wasn’t doing too well as the culture was changing and nightclubs weren’t doing the business they once had. The Supper Club format was changed and was renamed “Strip City” and there was no need for a warm-up act – at least not me.

Over the club years, I managed to keep a connection to the theatre folk I’d met in the various productions I’d done. I’d been asked to adjudicate some drama festivals from time to time and one of them took me to Creston, B.C. where I met a man named Ray Pomeroy. He was a Drama Teacher at Creston High School and while adjudicating his kids one spring, he asked me if I would be interested in joining him on an “Opportunities for Youth” project he was submitting to the Canadian Government. “Opportunities for Youth” was just what the name implied – a grant-giving scheme meant to give young people a meaningful experience to take part in and earn money at the same time. Ray thought that doing a Summer Theatre in the Kootenays would be a terrific idea and we were off to the races! This eventful chapter of my life would fill a book by itself (and perhaps I’ll write that one day) but, in the meantime, I’ll tantalize you with a promo for the full-length version:

“A young, inexperienced Director is suddenly abandoned by his Producer for fifty-three days in the wilderness of the British Columbia Interior, miles from any town, left to create a fully operational Theatre environment from scratch with 23 first-time-away-from-home, horny, minimum wage earning teenagers; a story of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, forced to build living quarters from borrowed army surplus tents and supplies, of garbage-marauding bears, of suffering through constant plagues of sparrow-sized mosquitoes, of reveling in illicit trysts, bound to indentured servitude in return for the use of a farmer’s land, hay baling, fruit picking , young lives lived on the edge; a tale of survival and triumph, of love and betrayal, of friendship and laughter. Coming soon!”

Having survived that summer – just – Jack Card came back into my life. He had worked in Las Vegas, choreographing shows and creating productions for years. A venerable old hotel in Portland, Oregon had a large and fabled show room and Jack was hired to create a massive Vegas-style production. I was hired as a production singer and Company Manager. The hotel was called The Hoyt and once more, my life changed in ways I would never have thought possible!

UP NEXT: PORTLAND!!