The Power of Theater Beatrice Hamel-Davis

The humid morning breeze pulls me down 7th Avenue, the anticipation gnawing at my stomach. Glaring billboards advertising Calvin Klein Jeans, Disney Movies, and Starbucks Coffee surround me; however, only one sign truly catches my eye with its bright, bold and gold letters: the famed marquee for Les Miserables. Every show sign has the same message: there is only one day left to see the second longest running musical in history before it closes. One day left, of course, means one thing: the increased impossibility of getting seats. Our only option was to “rush” and hope to snag those coveted $37 tickets.

As we join the long line, we are greeted by numerous, anxious Broadway fanatics. Some are playing cards, others are listening to the soundtrack, and many are laying on blankets: the only protection they have from the cold and grimy sidewalk of New York City. It is only six-thirty in the morning, but already the City is bustling with activity. A vibrant yellow taxi speeds past us, the blue and gold letters of the show attached to its roof. Tour buses rush by with confused foreign families ogling at the line of diverse patrons sitting under the large Imperial Theater sign. As the seconds seem to drag by, I am surprised to see the...