Mary McLeod: 1957-2008

Remembering a fixture in local theater

Mary McLeod

Mary McLeod died late Friday, August 22. Her memorial services were arranged within a day and by the end of that week, they were over and done. Her life and her ceremonies, now only memories. But what a life and what memories. A legacy, in fact.

For 20 years, Mary had worked backstage at almost every professional, unionized venue in Buffalo and then on the road, mostly with stadium concert tours. Around town, she gigged for Shakespeare in Delaware Park, Zodiaque Dance Company, Tralfamodore Café (when it was a downstairs joint at Main and Fillmore), Shea’s, and Studio Arena. She began her tenure as a roadie in 1981 when Rolling Stones’ “Tattoo You” tour was prepped in Buffalo and launched at Ralph Wilson Stadium.

Memories of these shows and more were shared at an impromptu memorial on Thursday, August 28, organized by Megan Townsend, Mary’s daughter, who has inherited her mother’s theatrical DNA. Weather shifted the site of the memorial from Johnson Park, close to Mary’s final residence, to the second floor of 200 Main Street, the offices of Local #10 of IATSE, the union representing entertainment technicians, craftsmen, and related employees.

News of any unexpected death is startling, horrible, and galvanizing. There is added sadness when a friend dies by her own hand. The utilitarian offices of Local #10 were far from a traditional setting for mourning. However, the recollections of electricians and carpenters, stage hands, and stage managers—usually the least visible professionals in theater—were as articulate, sincere, and forthright. Their appreciation of Mary as a professional and their love for her as a friend, genuine and vital.

In turn, Mary loved her job. Loved it enough to fight the union in which she deserved membership. McLeod was part of a group legal action that lasted most of a decade. Entry into Local #10 was difficult except for those on a seeming “friends and family” admission plan. While securing work through the union was possible, actual membership and benefits proved elusive until the union restructured just a few years ago, providing an administrated end to the suit.

Love of work had nothing to do with the pain it caused her. Mary’s body had been beset by the tortures of the job. A 40-foot fall from a lighting grid caused lasting physical problems despite multiple surgeries. This trauma, in tandem with the accumulated agony of hoisting, carrying, loading, and unloading tons of gear down thousands of miles of road over the course of years, left Mary in precarious health and too familiar with pain.

Despite it all, whatever her designated stage duties, Mary was famous for feeding crews, healing physical and emotional wounds in addition to providing appropriate doses of encouragement and discipline. She gave a new, positive definition to being a stage mother.

When still living with her, her son Christian and his sister Megan would bring home friends who would stay for dinner or for months. These surrogate children, many of them young actors, outlined their indelible memories of “Mother Mary” at the memorials. During Megan’s recent gigs in Buffalo, as stage manager for Jewish Repertory Theatre’s Kindertransport and performing at Alleyway in Theatre Plus’s production of The Angelina Project, Mary would occasionally cater meals between matinee and evening performances. Lasagna usually and wonderful always.

She fostered a second career as a masseuse. The study of massage enhanced Mary’s awareness of her own ailments and proved therapeutic to her by allowing her to help others in pain. In addition to maintaining her own business on Hertel Avenue, The Healing Touch, Mary worked in various health clubs and salons. Stage hands who had been workmates became clients, Mary intuiting where they ached.

At Thursday’s memorial and a second on Friday in Johnson Park, Megan Townsend quoted her mother’s pre-ordained funeral wish: “Take the best, burn the rest. Have a party. Don’t celebrate my death, celebrate your own life.” Townsend also recalled her mother urging others to “be the best you that only you can be.” After a funeral, we all realize a little bit more that life is short and try, at least for a few days, to live it more fully. And so will everyone who knows and remembers Mary McLeod.

What should also be understood is the personal legacy of one theater professional who thrived here. A career working with both playwright Samuel Beckett and singer Janet Jackson (on separate occasions, to be sure) can accurately be called notable. Those who care about theater proudly litanize the names of careers that started here: from A.R. Gurney to Brian Charles Johnson, Katharine Cornell to Jesse Martin and beyond. We can even boast of the remarkable careers of those who have pioneered the profession here in Buffalo: Saul Elkin, Ardis Smith, and Liz Hiller, to name a few. But these actors and writers are public in their art and efforts. It is easy enough to do faux research on IMDB, IBDB, or other dot coms and pass a list of stage alumni off as journalism.

Theater history is not the directory of now demolished buildings. It is a human history of the thousands who went to shows and who made shows and how they did so. That legacy includes Mary McLeod, working behind the scenes in the Theater District and on the road. Helping those in the spotlight look and be the best that they could be. Breaking glass ceilings in her trade from her choice position up in the lighting grid.

—thomas dooney