FOREWORD

“The Undercurrent” is a page from life’s drama. From the very beginning—in the days when I haunted the Morals Court, the Domestic Relation Court and the Psychopathic Laboratory, I have always been drawn to our countless Annies, beaten, swept along, vague about everything in life—even their destination. And never have I found it in my heart to blame them for their plight. Sometimes people have said to me: “But Mrs. Ehlert, you can’t tell me that this girl doesn’t realize she is doing wrong! She knows better than to—” And I have always pleaded: “Please don’t say a word against her, please don’t! Perhaps, if we were in her shoes, we might be ten times worse than she! You never can tell by looking at a person, what undercurrent may be sweeping her along!”

And that is how I came to write this playlet. I took a typical Annie, one that you can find on any street, and thought: “Now, why is she a little street walker? What has been the cause? What may be the undercurrent in her life? What has brought her into the court?”

I didn’t want to preach or teach a lesson. I simply wished to bring real life before audiences; something vital to make them think; to make them more sympathetic in their judgments of others, whether they were “Annies” or “Pa Fishyers.” And the results of my experiment have touched me deeply.

Since our first performance, never have we failed to grip our audiences, to tug at their heartstrings. And these audiences have come from all walks of life, from the highest to the lowest; from women’s clubs, social agencies, churches, charitable organizations, Little Theatres, courts, banks, stores and factories. Not a week passes but we are conscious of the effect our playlet is having upon the lives of others. From the scraggly bouquet of flowers sent over the footlights in Los Angeles with those laboriously scrawled lines: “From one whats got a husband like that” to the ring which a well-groomed Brooklyn woman insisted upon giving me with tears in her eyes, a little silver ring which she had worn on a black velvet ribbon ever since her granddaughter’s death.

And our audiences have not been the only ones to receive us with outstretched hands! Coming into a new world, strange and foreign to us, I don’t know what we should have done had not hundreds of hands reached out to help us along. And these friendly gestures came from the members of the Radio-Keith-Orpheum Circuit, from the theatre managers and their staffs, and from the professional players on the bills with us. I wish to thank them again and again for the personal interest they took in our playlet and their unselfish efforts in our behalf.

It would be impossible for me to mention every individual and institution who graciously helped me launch my playlet on its career, but I would feel very ungrateful were I not to name: Frank Harris, Theodore B. Hinckley, John Vandervoort Sloan, C. J. Bulliet, James Gray, Frank Moneyhun, Fritz Blocki, Katherine Graham, Dr. George Scherger, Mary A. Blood, Edith S. Lueders, Mrs. John B. Boddie, Alice C. D. Riley, Ethel Rogers Swift, Bertha E. Burrill, Helen Sanford, C. Russell Small, May Kronan, Jennie Swanson, Caroline Cooper, the Columbia College of Expression, the University of Chicago, The Town and Gown Playshop of Northwestern University, the Evanston Woman’s Club and the Drama League of Chicago.

As for my untiring cast, their devotion and loyalty to “The Undercurrent” has become almost a by-word in the theatrical world. What would I have done without their assistance? My “six starlets”—God bless them!

And finally, I wish to thank those who in a great measure are responsible for the success of “The Undercurrent,” the press in America and Canada, and the theatrical publications, The Billboard, Inside Facts, The National Vaudeville News, Variety, Zit’s, and last but not least Samuel French, who is publishing “The Undercurrent.”