At the top of the Hurok itinerary page are listed some Hurok personnel with their telephone numbers. The individual who does not have a New York number listed is Don Tirabassi, Road Manager of the entire operation, and, I might add, a really incredibly nice guy. I went to Don and told him that I'm fed up with flying and since the remainder of the dates were within a driving distance of each other, I wanted my air ticket to Baltimore together with a $1000 cash advance re-payable at $200 per week. The show had a few days off, which they intended to spend in Montreal while I wanted to fly down to Baltimore and purchase a car. He agreed to my request. I told Michael Beint my intentions because if the hotel rooms were large enough for two people, we'd share a room.
After I'd got all my gear into a room, I headed to the bar and a chat with the bartender on the subject of buying a car locally. After a visit to the AAA for insurance info and a driving test manual at the local Baltimore PD, I returned to the hotel and called the DMV in Glen Burnie (a bus ride out of town). I told the woman that I had an International Drivers License and needed to take the drivers test the next morning. She said "well sir, if you have an out of state drivers license, you only need to take the first part of the test, which is done on the computer." Next morning it's pouring with rain as I made my way to the bus stop per the instructions of the bartender, who said to exit the bus about a mile before the DMV and check out the used cars en route. However, the cars that I saw were junk, so I proceed to the DMV. The place was almost empty, so I took the test having studied hard the night before at the Lord Baltimore Hotel. I passed the test and a State Trooper said for me to "fetch my car and to park outside where the tester would be along shortly." I told him, I didn't have a vehicle because the woman on the telephone said that because I had an out of state license, I didn't need to take the driving part of the test. He said, let me see that license, so I showed him the International License I'd purchased in London. He said what was the woman's name, which I didn't know and he then told me that I needed a license from another American State to be excused the driving part and not from another country. I was extremely angry with this nonsense and told him so. He said, "look, go out into the big waiting room and see if there's anybody sitting there who is a driving instructor and who have a person out taking a test. He said offer them $20 to let you take the test in their car because it only takes 10 minutes for the test on our test site. You don't have to go out onto the street, so there's no problem with insurance."
There was one person sitting in the waiting room, so I said "Sir, excuse me, but are you a driving instructor with a student driver out on a test."
"You're from London," he said. I said, "yes, I know I am," and he laughed. He told me that in World War II he was part of an American Division that was under the command of General Montgomery, the British Commander in the desert of North Africa, and that he and his army mates were very pleased because he'd formerly been part of General George Patton's desert force and didn't like it because Patton was known as "old Blood and Guts" (your blood and his guts). He went on to say that there were many British soldiers who spoke with my London accent, and that he'd gotten along very well with them. I then told him that the desert of North Africa was where my father was killed. He was dumfounded of the coincidence." Anyway," he said, "why are you asking me if I'm a driving instructor?" So I told him about my foul-up on the telephone with the DMV and that the State Trooper had suggested I try to borrow a vehicle for the test. "Certainly" he said. "As soon as my daughter comes back from her test, we'll take you out on the street in my car so you can get the feel of it and then you can take the test." Talk about Divine Providence! This guy was straight out of heaven. What a great American. I was momentarily stunned by his magnanimity. His daughter came in and had passed her test (second effort) and he was very pleased at that. Then I saw the car. It was a huge beast with a long hood. I later found out that it was an 8-cylinder Pontiac Firebird, but it worked because I drove around the little "DisneyLand-like test drive and had no trouble passing. Then I went to the window with the paperwork and had to fill out some forms. The lady said "what's your current address?" I said the Lord Baltimore Hotel, Madame and she replied that hotels are not residential addresses. But my adrenaline was running, and in a flash I had a Divine Inspiration. "May I please use your telephone, " I asked. I called the box office at the Morris Mechanics Theatre and spoke to some guy to whom I explained my predicament. Once he heard my accent, he had no reason to doubt that I was a member of the National Theatre appearing at his theatre, so he gave me his home address which satisfied the DMV employee. I said I'd call at his office and see him upon my return.
After these two pieces of incredible good fortune, I decide to walk back to Baltimore to shake off the stress. So I ambled along the Ritchie Highway in Glen Bernie and watched the kids catching crabs in the Chesapeake Bay that fronted the highway. After a couple of miles or so, I noticed a car dealership across the highway with all these new Fords out front. Intermingled with the new cars was a Ford Fairlane 4-door sedan with no price on the windshield. I headed for the Sales Manager's office because this vesicle was a very clean, desirable car. It was 10 years old but a low mileage car with a 6-cylinder engine and manual gear shift on the steering column. He was talking $1250 and I pulled out the $1000 I'd got from Don Tirabassi and told him "that's all I've got." I then told him about my day's experience at the DMV as he was pondering the offer. I asked him how many kids he had and that I'd have tickets left at the box office for he, his wife, and his kids in the best seating section of the theatre. That did the trick. Sold! More paperwork and back to the DMV for temporary plates. The new license plates would be mailed to the same address as my drivers license. When I saw my connection back at the theatre, I gave him the Hurok address in New York. I also gave him a copy of the itinerary so he could see where we were headed. In Toronto's O'Keefe Center I later received a phone call from him requesting tickets for his brother and his family who lived in Canada. I met them all after the show, which they had thoroughly enjoyed.
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The DMV at 6601 Ritchie Hwy., Glen Bernie, MD 21060 no longer has a Disneyland-style driving test facility. According to Google Earth, the entire location is a parking lot. Moreover, Brooklyn Motors, where I purchased the Ford Fairlane is a shadow of its grandiose 1974 sales operation. I have no recollection of the dates of these events, but when you receive the Hurok itinerary you can check opening night at the Mechanics Theatre in Baltimore. Worst of all, I can't remember the name of the Good Samaritan who rescued me from the machinations of the MD DMV; however, he's been one of my favorite people over the years and the quintessential American. I hold him in high esteem and will never forget him and his generosity.