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| Lake Havasu |
It was early April and I was knee deep in preparations for my Senior Cabaret at Cal State Fullerton. I had just mastered my new favorite song that I would be adding to my set list, "Watching the Big Parade Go By" and couldn't wait to sing it for someone.
I raced home, burst through my parent's front door with cassette tape in hand, snapped it into our family stereo, and demanded their attention as I serenaded them with my high belting excitement...
I couldn't help but feel self-conscious. I got the feeling that they didn't want to hear my song.
Something was off... something didn't feel right...
An awkward silence took over the room. My Mother held up the news article and gently told me: Mark was in a terrible boat accident at Lake Havasu a few days ago. He’s missing.
The next thing I knew, I was in a ball with my arms wrapped around my knees, hysterically crying. I was shaken by the sounds that were coming out of me. I was a howling wolf.
I knew he was gone.
I was in final rehearsals for Hair.
When I returned to the theater, all 40 cast mates, crew and creative team surrounded me with the most unbelievable amount of love and support. Mark was a Theatre student as well, so a good majority of students and faculty had their own stake in the sadness and worry.
I noticed that the Dean of our department, Sally Mitchell, had taped memos on the hallway walls, notifying any passerby that Mark Chotiner, a student here in the Theatre Department, has died.
My reaction: Pure anger. He’s not dead. He’s MISSSING.
I knocked on her door, she invited me in with sympathetic eyes that I just wanted to rip out of their sockets and shove down her throat.
Trying to keep it together, but ready to explode: Sally, with all due respect, I’m upset that you taped up those notes saying that Mark is dead. Regardless if he’s dead or alive, why on earth would you do that? He is missing, not DEAD. Please have some respect for Mark, and myself, and take down those notices right now. RIGHT NOW???
She apologized and assured me that they’d be thrown out.
Have some class, Sally.
I was a mess. Mark, my ex-boyfriend, my first love, the guy I bitched at just a week ago, was missing, and I knew in my heart that he had died. I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I was shaken awake by the image of his hair floating in the water as his body descends to the bottom of the river.
Spring Break is over. Lake Havasu is shut down while Search and Rescue flies overhead and dives into the waters, looking for Mayor of La Mirada, Bob Chotiner’s son, Mark Chotiner, who was last seen on the lake a few days ago, a news reporter says on the nightly news as a photo of Mark appears in the top left corner of the screen. Half of my face was in that photo. It was a picture of Mark and me hugging.
It all felt so unreal, like I was in a movie. This cannot be happening to me. My photo is on TV and Mark is the topic of the evening news and I think I just lost my soul mate and I don’t know how I am going to live through this, I want to die too.
The conversation I had with Dean Sally about the death notices didn’t seem to be a priority to her since she made no effort to abide by my wishes, which was a mistake I am sure she regretted when I startled her by bursting thru her fancy office doors, fists full of crumpled up notices, screaming, “TAKE THESE FUCKING NOTES DOWN NOW, SALLY! DO YOU NOT HAVE ANY FUCKING RESPECT FOR HIM? WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? HE’S MISSING, NOT DEAD!” I may have felt like a wolf when I was crying, but I was a bear when I yelled.
Stay tuned for Part III …
