In 1997, when I was in NYC to direct The Wizard of Oz, I attempted to see two musicals – Titanic and Ragtime. Titanic was still in previews and the two attempts to see it were blocked due to the hydraulic system not working – the ship would not sink! I had just as much luck getting in to see Ragtime which was sold out both times.

In 2000, the national tour company of Ragtime came through Dayton. I did not purchase my ticket in advance, planning on buying it at the door as usual. The reviews on the musical’s two week run were outstanding. The last night, I drove downtown Dayton and could not get in to see the show. It was completely sold out!

Finally, last night, I got to see Ragtime, a production at Wright State University. Of course, as we drove in, I realized my wallet was back in my bedroom – we missed the first five minutes. However, I left the production so inspired, so moved that I am seeing it again this weekend with Sheila Magnuson, the mother of my student is starring on Broadway in Sweeney Todd.

The CD of Ragtime is one of my favorites and has generally been on my CD player these past five years while I have worked on my Wright Brothers musical. Wright State – as always – did an outstanding job. It is usually difficult to believe they are merely college students and not professionals in NYC. The music is uplifting. The performances are electrifying. The entire production is breathtaking. But most of all, the show itself has guts.

For over a decade in the 1980’s through the 1990’s American theatre had drowned in revivals and British imports with vapid stories and overblown production values: Cats longing for lost days in the sun? Sexist takes of trains on roller skates? Psychotic madmen in opera houses? Recycled tap dancing spectaculars? And for what?

Finally, someone mounted a musical about America. A musical that posed hard questions about race, intolerances, and democracy. A musical that went to the core of the American question: can we live together? It is a musical that raised it all in one heart pounding epic story.

It is not an easy musical to put on. Its orchestrations are huge. Its dance numbers are mammoth. Its scenes are epic. All woven together with a story that’s as challenging as any drama that’s wrestled with questions of race.

History’s subtle voice is beleaguered by tricks of memory and imagination that urge us toward nostalgia and forgetfulness. Yet its influence stretches ahead of us into the future, awaiting our eventual arrival.

To the casual observer, Ragtime appears to be a nostalgic portrait of life at the turn of the twentieth century. Based on E. L. Doctorow’s distinguished novel, Ragtime weaves together three stories: a wealthy suburban family, a poor immigrant and his motherless daughter, and a black man named Coalhouse Walker. Their stories unfold against the backdrop of America’s dueling identities of wealth and poverty, freedom and prejudice, hope and despair, and love and hate. It looks at idealism alongside the realities and hardships of oppressed people.

In the twenty-first century we are still inclined to ignore the obvious disparities that exist in America. We believe that America is a land of opportunity but does it really offer opportunity freely to all? It appears that we, as a national family, have learned little from our history. Issues of prejudice and discrimination continue to surface, most recently from the roof tops of New Orleans as the poor begged for food, water and shelter. The poignant picture is still one of two Americas.

The greatest worth of our American Dream is not in its depiction of wealth and success, but in its promise of freedom for all Americans. Our future depends on our ability to recognize history’s voice in the everyday events of our lives and not to allow forgetfulness or nostalgia to sway us from our responsibilities as the caretakers of freedom.