Toni

 Toni was cool; cool in that way that you secretly hoped you would be noticed and found interesting enough to garner her very cool attention. And to my delight, she did notice me. I felt privileged that she chose to include me as her one of her good friends. Her style was avant-garde, edgy and simultaneously soft; she had a deep spirituality and deep convictions but was also deeply hilarious and saw people in a way they didn't know they were being seen. 

I met Toni when I decided to change my major to theatre ed and planted myself like a seedling in the telecom building, hoping to sprout into a collegiate theatre goddess among the many other rising stars. Toni was a year ahead of me and to me, it seemed she was specifically built to be a stage manager; sharp, keen-eyed, able to synchronize busting balls for the impulsive ne'er-do-well backstage rapscallions (*cough Brandon, Michael...cough*) and calming the rising and falling emotional outbursts from all of us overly-emotional young things. The way she called a show...you had fun with Toni when you worked stage crew under her. She also found humor in that role and we all laughed a whole lot. 

Didn't the set catch fire once? The play was Little Moon of Alban; there was a starting pistol to mimic the sound of gunfire; a spark caught the net hangings and there was much rushing under the seating and Ms. Byland whisper-shouting, "Oh shit! Oh shit!" 

But Toni moved with purpose even while freaking out. She freaked out with purpose and in a very specific direction as a stage manager. But she loved us. She was our guiding star in the booth and our dear friend everywhere else. 

Toni directed me as Du, in the play Keely & Du. I was so excited to take the role. It felt like a gift. Toni (among so many of my other college family) made me feel seen in a way that I hadn't felt seen before--as a friend, as an aspiring artist, as a person. She was very good at that. 

She directed that show with a very real sense of personal responsibility. The show's content concerning abortion and our performance as students on a Baptist campus gave her laser-focused purpose to do this well on so many levels. She wanted to get it right. Her direction was gentle but persuasive with a firmness that was both encouraging and motivating. 

My grandpa passed away during rehearsals and I was unsure if I had it in me to finish the show. I struggled with letting Toni and my fellow cast members down. When I talked to Toni, her biggest concern was for me and taking care of my own needs. I told her I didn't know what I wanted to or should do. She told me to do what I felt I needed to do; "pow-wow with God," and let her know. To have a friend show such concern for me gave me the headspace to make whatever choice I needed without guilt. She was good at walking you through something difficult without making you feel guilty for being an overly emotional human being. 

Finishing that show with her and my cast mates became interlinked with grieving my grandfather. The experience helped me feel my grief but kept it from sweeping me away into a sea of emotional chaos. Her kindness as a director and a friend are something I will never forget. 

We grew close as friends during that time. She and my dear friends Jamie and Brandy and Kara were regulars at my apartment. She and Jamie lost me at Walmart once. They wandered around, Toni calling out, "Where's Jill?!" in a confused and befuddled tone of voice, searching the inside of the circular clothing racks, convinced I was hiding from them. And more than once, many years later, she'd call and tell me she had looked for me at the Walmart that day. 

I was given to lip-syncing (or actually belting out) the intro to Black Dog by Led Zeppelin along with my hand mic; thumb to my lips as the mouthpiece, pinky extended outward as the protruding tail of a wireless mic via the early 90s. It was a signature move for me. And I guess I did this multiple times? So she would say, as a command, "Jill, Led Zeppelin, go!" And no matter where I was or what I was doing, I had to start singing the intro with my hand mic. I still do this in the privacy of my car, in front of my children, my 17-year old, mortified and completely embarrassed by my shenanigans. I love it. 

Toni and I were both engaged during 2001. We ended up getting married 2 days apart. As we planned and prepped for our weddings, we realized we had both chosen the same day. Since we had so many of the same friends and some who would be in both wedding parties, some coordination was necessary. She and her fiancé chose to have their wedding 2 days before ours so we could all be married in the same time frame we wanted. 

She & I spent a whole day together in this pursuit. We skipped class, drove about an hour away to her hometown of Stroud, and dreamed the day away, pouring over wedding flowers and other wedding details with her mom, who is a florist. We had a joint bachelorette party that started with dinner at the Olive Garden and ended at our friend's apartment, where we were serenaded by several of our male theatre friends, wearing only their boxers and Santa hats. We drank and laughed and then the pièce de résistance was when Toni & I wrestled each other in a kiddy pool filled with whipped cream--she won. 

Toni, like all of us, carried burdens. I won't pretend to know the hard details or extent of those struggles. But for me, remembering her as the beautiful & fierce force of creative energy that she was, does not diminish the very real encumbrances with which she lived. Rather, these memories let me recall Toni as the artist and friend and human she strove to be on her very best days. Like all the rest of us, Toni wasn't perfect & like all the rest of us, she fell short sometimes, in thought, word, and deed; by what she did & by what she left undone. But I am confident in the forgiveness she, like the rest of us, received from Jesus on a daily basis. And if there's any part of me that feels let down by her choices, I will extend that same forgiveness to her; choosing to believe that she harbored a deep desire to love us all well, despite the times or ways when she didn't, or couldn't.  

Toni was above all else, my dear, sweet friend & I will miss her. Every time I hear Black Dog by Led Zepellin, I will feel her spirit close; whenever I attend a live theatre performance, I will remember her unique and compelling artistry in holding, as it were, a mirror up to nature. Any time I am able to spend time with my college family, I will feel her absence sharply. Toni, thank you for your friendship, your guidance and wisdom and silliness and for the precious memories that I will hold close to my heart for always. Be at peace, my friend, and rest well.