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In Memory Of

LINDA HERMAN

By:  Shirley Hooper (from a newspaper article)

Linda Herman is a tall, striking blonde who gives new meaning to the word "flair."  A single for 13 years, she attributes the ease with which she has overcome her problems and adjustments to having an outside interest which is often consuming and rewarding:  the theater.

"I didn't choose the theater as a part of my life," says Linda.  "I was born into it.  My hometown was Emory, Virginia, a delightful place with a population of 175.  It was known for one thing:  the small Methodist college where my grandfather was president for almost a quarter of a century.  Most of my family taught there, including my mother, who was a drama teacher supreme.

"At the age of one and a half, I made my stage debut in Madame Butterfly as the Japanese-American child left behind with the American flag.  It was the first of many childhood bit parts that my mother found for me in her plays.

"As a pre-adolescent, unlike most of my friends, who chose to go to the movies on Saturday, I was stationed by a gigantic scale in a theater conceived by my mother and Robert Porterfield.  Know as the Barter Theater, its purpose was to bring good plays to the local mountain people in exchange for their produce.  The barter went something like this:  two pounds of potatoes bought six tickets, one cow bought a season ticket.  So, I weighed the beans, tomatoes, and potatoes every week, and barefoot mountaineers in their overalls were thrilled to watch live performances in a small theater over the county jail.

"During the week, my father, who was a county clerk, would take me out to the town hangar after work and show me the inner workings of an airplane.  His plane, used for crop dusting, was always being taken apart and rebuilt.  After each construction, he would take me up, complete with goggles and scarf, for a spin.  My childhood contact with the theater was indeed dramatic, but nothing could match circling over the field, biding time, until the inspector, who checked to be sure each plane was put together correctly, went home.

"Tragedy struck my safe and wonderful world when my father, an Army Air Force pilot, was killed in World War II.  My mother and I moved to Alexandria, where my mother began teaching speech lessons.  I was required to attend her private classes, because, as she said, "You will have a limited career if you audition with only a Southern accent."

"My college years at Hood and Mary Washington were exciting, filled with lots of experience in radio.  As a talk and disk jockey, I had my own show interviewing local personalities.

"However, I left school at the end of my junior year to marry my college beau, and moved to Cranford, New Jersey.  As soon as I arrived, I called the police to find the location of the nearest community theater.

"I made a career of juggling roles with having babies, and began to put together some one-woman shows.  The shows, which enabled me to travel a little, also gave me a chance to do something on my own that brought in some extra pin money.

"But my life as a corporation wife was difficult for me to handle.  Entertaining clients in New York with my husband, sometimes three times a week, and constantly leaving the children with sitters for company affairs, became too much.  I knew being divorced with five children would not be easy, but I decided to take my chances.

"I can honestly say that I have never been happier in my life.  I have seven beautiful granddaughters, and interesting job, and good, good friends.

"Looking back, though, I realize my mother's philosophy was as important to my life as my introduction to the theater.  She summed it up like this:  Be proud to be a woman with character, don't forget to laugh at yourself, and never think you want to live in a world without men.  Above all, if you are to walk through this world,  remember to do it with graciousness."

"I learned right away that no one gives a hoot about your personal life.  You are responsible for making something of yourself, so you'd better get to it.  I found jobs in a gift and antique shop, where I could work during school hours.  As each child was launched, I became more active in the theater.  Parts in the Edison Valley Playhouse, the New Jersey Public Theater, the Foothills Playhouse, and the Montclair Studio Playhouse led to paid roles in local dinner theaters.  I took a course in "How to Act in a Soap Opera" and landed a part in an Atari commercial.  My one-woman show Theater' caught on, and I found touring brought new friends and experiences.  Last summer I appeared in "Subway to the Moon," an Off-Broadway play.

"Let me stress that there is no such thing as a painless divorce, or the loss of a spouse without a terrible void, so singles should trade in their negative feelings for positive ones by becoming involved in an activity that really interests them.  It's an escape mechanism.  I realize that all my roles helped me to climb out of my own world and into another.

"My advice to anyone coming to grips with the fact that they are suddenly single is this:  Locate a good financial advisor who can give you a realistic understanding of your money situation.  Forget nostalgia.  If you have to sell the house, do it.  You must be as financially secure as possible.  If you have few marketable skills, go back to school.  Attend adult-school classes to meet people, and do not worry about making mistakes.  Everybody does!

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Copyright©1999 Robert W. Devlin