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Home/Place with Garrett Brown

Home/Place is a Company Innovation project conceived by Jennifer Lin, designed to create a collaborative dialogue between artists and audience. The project began with an invitation for members of the community to submit images and text in response to three prompts: The home I was born to, The road I traveled, and The home I made. We are sharing these submissions, the foundational components of the project, as Home/Place continues into the next phase of development.

This submission is from Garrett Brown, a member of Third Rail’s 2019-2020 Mentorship Company.


This is me the summer after freshman year of college when I was working in Seaside at a seafood restaurant. The owners hand-made their own mascot outfit (it was pretty bad to wear) and I waited all summer to try it on. It’s a fun photo!

In my high school, Key Club was in charge of planning our winter formal. It was a popular dance, but always got overlooked due to not being Prom or Homecoming. My junior year, Key Club was populated by a group of people (most of whom were queer or would come out later as queer) and had carte blanche when it came to planning the winter formal (usually some benign theme like “A Night in Paris.”) That year was around when Lady Gaga was top of the Zeitgeist, and I advocated for “Monster’s Ball” to be the theme (based on her album and tour). Basically it was our chance to go crazy and make it queer, camp, and pop arty. And for me, who came out as bisexual later in life, I think it was a way for me to safely express being queer (having not really realized it about myself yet).

This is a photo of a stray cat in front of a building at the Parthenon in Greece. I traveled while I was in England for study abroad late 2015. Although it wasn’t always easy, looking back it feels idyllic, almost like a weird time of my life that wasn’t real (before 2016, and onward). I want to return eventually, but I think of the beauty of the place a lot.

This is a chair that I accidentally broke when I was in the hospital in Portland (likely it already had structural damage and I was the final straw but still an apt metaphor for where I was in my life at that point). I had graduated college maybe 4 months before, and I was depressed and having issues adapting to post college life. I was struggling with mental health including self harm, PTSD, and depression. The program was a three week group therapy intensive, where I would spend 8 hours a day with a variety of other patients working to process trauma and pain. The chair happened on day two. For me, it kind of marks a sort of hilarious rock bottom: obviously the chair isn’t a big deal. But in the moment, it was funny, because it seemed that nothing else was going right, AND THEN THIS. Looking back at the photo gives me an amused smile.

Taken a few weeks ago in 2020. I spent my life trying to escape the coast. I love where I grew up, but to me, it feels like failure to return. My greatest fear for a long time post college was that I would “fail” at life, and need to move back in with my parents. My home place is a strange mix because I grew up with the (wrong) notion that money or achievement determined success: many people in my town stayed local for a variety of reasons (money, family, marriage, drugs, whatever) and I think there was always a worry that I would be “trapped.” 

And of course, due to COVID I have moved back in with my parents. It’s a strange feeling. Because I moved back in because I was worried about safety (have a few roommates) but also worried about my mental health. And although I still have worries for the future, I know I won’t be in Astoria (the coast) forever. It may be longer than I want, but I’ll leave. But I’m glad I’ve been here for at least this little bit.

I miss the Third Rail Mentees. I’ve spent the last several years building friend and peer groups in Portland, and I feel like the group of Mentees are inspiring to me. People I want to spend time with, individuals who I want to collaborate with, people I trust and love. It’s a lot not to be around them right now: I miss hugging them, and I miss the kinetic energy of seeing them in person. People live in Zoom now, and I can’t wait to be back in the same space with them.


Home/Place with Ken Boddie

Home/Place is a Company Innovation project conceived by Jennifer Lin, designed to create a collaborative dialogue between artists and audience. The project began with an invitation for members of the community to submit images and text in response to three prompts: The home I was born to, The road I traveled, and The home I made. We are sharing these submissions, the foundational components of the project, as Home/Place continues into the next phase of development.

This submission is from Ken Boddie, co-anchor of “KOIN 6 News This Morning” every weekday. Ken also produces a weekly segment called “Where We Live,” which gives Portland viewers the backstory of local landmarks, events, street names, and historical figures.


THE HOME I WAS BORN TO

Although I was born in Philadelphia, my boyhood home was Rochester, New York. It was a corporate town, with Xerox, Eastman Kodak, Bausch & Lomb, and a couple of General Motors plants, as well as the Eastman School of Music, The Rochester School for the Deaf, and the Rochester Institute of Technology. Rochester was a stop on the Underground Railroad, as slaves hid in private homes to escape to the North. Frederick Douglass lived there. So did Susan B. Anthony. I lived in a black and Puerto Rican neighborhood, with Italian, Irish and Polish pretty much rounding out the town’s ethnic mix. It was a great place to grow up, but the winters were too brutal for me. I was determined to get out.

THE ROAD I TRAVELED

As an athlete (track and basketball), and a good student at a Catholic high school, I reaped the benefits of the Affirmative Action years of the 1970’s, being recruited to several Ivy League schools. I chose Cornell because it was close to home, and I could get in-state grants to attend. Cornell gave me the confidence to know I could compete in the world. It also got me started in broadcasting, as I dabbled in campus radio (WHCU), and caught the broad- casting bug. I decided to pursue broadcasting after college, rather than going to law school. I think it worked out.

THE HOME I MADE

Portland, Oregon was never on my radar, until my mom, step-dad and sister moved to Gresham in 1975. My mother’s husband was an engineer, and his company brought him to Oregon. I came out in 1982, after a year’s stint in Trinidad (I followed a girl), and started working as a producer at KPTV-12. KOIN came calling 3 years later. Oregon is a beautiful place, but it also has a history of animus toward African-Americans. I’ve had numerous negative encounters over the years, where my race was a factor. However, it has been balanced by the incredible friendships and professional growth I’ve experienced in the Rose City. Portland is and always will be home.


Home/Place with Ronni Lacroute

Home/Place is a Company Innovation project conceived by Jennifer Lin, designed to create a collaborative dialogue between artists and audience. The project began with an invitation for members of the community to submit images and text in response to three prompts: The home I was born to, The road I traveled, and The home I made. We are sharing these submissions, the foundational components of the project, as Home/Place continues into the next phase of development.

This submission is from Ronni Lacroute, a cherished member and supporter of the Portland arts community.


As for these photos, I selected them to show how life can lead you to places you never anticipated. The oldest photo, the B&W image of me as an infant reading a book with my mother, was taken in Port Chester, New York, where I lived with my mother in my grandparents’ house while my father served in the U.S. Army in the latter part of the Second World War. My mother instilled in me such a huge love of stories that I wanted to show the joy I derived from hearing her reading stories to me. Also, living in the suburbs of New York City was hugely important in my early years since my mother and grandmother brought me to the city frequently for theatre and concerts. I am very glad to have lived in New York for almost a decade at the beginning of my life.

The next photo chronologically shows me with my son and daughter hiking in the French Alps to connect them to the French heritage of their father. We never lived in the mountains, but the mountains always felt like a welcoming home and safe escape from the rushed lifestyle of the suburbs where we lived.

The vineyard photo shows me with my first vineyard manager Joel Myers when we first laid out a vineyard on a former horse pasture in Yamhill County back in 1991, which was my first experience with being a farmer, living in truly rural Oregon, and making a home on an enormous acreage. I fell in love with that land, every square inch of it, and came to understand the soil structure, the water table, the native plants that grew there, the wild animals that made their home there. There are some wonderful memories associated with those early days of learning all about that beautiful land. After I found arrowheads and grinding tools in the soil, I also took an interest in the life of the indigenous people who had originally lived on that land, probably people of the Kalapuya Nation.

The last photo shows me and Bernard (my former husband and business partner) hosting a winemaker dinner at our winery, Willakenzie Estate, which we built in 1995 on the same site as the vineyard. The winery became a true home to us since we spent most of our hours working there, welcoming guests, hosting wine tasting events, educational events, dinners, and even a PBS cooking show. We spent more hours there than in our house up the hill from the winery until we eventually sold the business in 2016.


Home/Place with Sue How

Home/Place is a Company Innovation project conceived by Jennifer Lin, designed to create a collaborative dialogue between artists and audience. The project began with an invitation for members of the community to submit images and text in response to three prompts: The home I was born to, The road I traveled, and The home I made. We are sharing these submissions, the foundational components of the project, as Home/Place continues into the next phase of development.

This submission is from Member Sue How.


Made me happy searching. I could send hundreds. 🤗

Came home to this house in Edinburgh when I was born and left to go to college 19 years later.

Christmas Eve 1963. Could hardly sleep in those days we were so excited. 🎄

I grew up in Scotland and spent many summers on the west coast.  Was visiting years later when I came upon this site. It took me back.

Pitlochry is where my mother lives…not this shed though. 😜

Her name was Aiko.  Loved that dog.

I visited with my mother last year when she came out to visit for her 90th birthday. Every rose in the garden was perfect. I have never seen it like that before or since (and I was just there. 🌹🌹)


Home/Place with Mary Anne Cassin

Home/Place is a Company Innovation project conceived by Jennifer Lin, designed to create a collaborative dialogue between artists and audience. The project began with an invitation for members of the community to submit images and text in response to three prompts: The home I was born to, The road I traveled, and The home I made. We are sharing these submissions, the foundational components of the project, as Home/Place continues into the next phase of development.

This submission is from Mary Anne Cassin, Core Member and Secretary of Third Rail’s Board.


Having participated in many Third Rail experiences over the years, including live theatre, salons, readings, fundraisers, talk-backs, etc. I knew that there was an incredible assortment of interesting, intelligent people also participating. Our conversations and interactions have tended to be very short and largely about the theatre experience. This opportunity seemed like a wonderful one to share more of who I am and find out more about who is also supporting this theatre group.

Only the first image is there to represent the home I was born to. The photo is taken far from that place (a working class Italian immigrant neighborhood in Chicago), but it includes my three loud, fun and loving brothers and our extended family at this point in our lives. It’s quite a clan!

The road I travelled is represented by the image of Pioneer Courthouse Square, the city of Portland that I adopted in 1978 when I first moved here fresh from college. I had the great honor of being on the design team for the square – it was an international competition and at the time I worked for a small landscape architecture firm based in Old Town. If you have the time to spare, you can find one of the original bricks with my name on it. Working on public places like this one lead me to my eventual career where I spent many decades working for Portland Parks as well as Metro Parks. It was a challenging and fulfilling career, but I sure am glad to be retired now!

The second image for the road I travelled includes the photo of me and our son, who is a newly graduated  search-and-rescue helicopter pilot based in San Francisco for the Coast Guard. Seeing him grow up and how his career is evolving is more than enough excitement; and I work very hard to not think too deeply about what’s involved in his rescue efforts.

The final three images are of the house and garden that have been a labor of love for my husband and I over the last 30 years. Ken was a professional gardener for many years of his career so between the two of us we are happy indeed puttering in the garden these days. It has been such a healing place when we’ve needed it as well as the scene of many fun cocktail parties, and we feel very fortunate in these crazy days to have something so relaxing and peaceful readily available to us.

How very difficult it was to narrow it down to six images! My goodness, at this point in my life I have six decades of places, people and experiences. Yet it was (as usual) a good exercise to sort through to see where the most important influences have been.


Introducing Home/Place

Over the years we have explored small Irish towns, families, artists, lovers, friends, plays within plays, musicals, graphic novels, love, death, memory and revolution. You have taken these journeys with us. Sometimes we have spoken to each other about what we saw, or felt, or thought. But most of the time we have not. We have merely walked the same path for an hour or two and gone our separate ways. 

And then, suddenly we cannot meet. 

And in the space apart, what is most striking is how much you can share with someone, and still not know them. How many questions will never be answered, because there was never the time or opportunity to ask. How many wonderful and moving stories you might be sharing a space with at any given moment. And how those stories, woven together, can create and build a community. Over the years, by some magic we cannot name, we have come to feel a connection to you. Without realizing it, we have come to look for you, and to feel a spark of delight when we find you there. This is the place we call home.

This project is a celebration, or perhaps a critique, or perhaps both, of the place we are in and the places we call home. It is an attempt to see what is created, what stories are told, and what conversations begin by sharing pieces of our own lives through means that do not depend upon a shared language. We do not yet know the end result, but to take this journey together, to get the chance to know each other just a little bit better, feels precious and valuable.

-Jennifer Lin, Company Member and creator of Home/Place


Home/Place is Third Rail’s third Company Innovation project, an annual production slot that allows Company Members to explore theatre that approaches structure, story, design, and point of view in new and surprising ways. Previous Company Innovation projects were Isaac Lamb’s pared-down, all female, six person concert staging of Meredith Willson’s The Music Man (2018) and Jennifer Lin’s immersive, multimedia adaptation of the graphic novel by Paul Hornschemeier, Mother, Come Home (2019).

The first step of the Home/Place process is to solicit images from our audience and community, following three prompts:

  • The home I was born to
  • The road I traveled
  • The home I made

Jennifer Lin has put together a graphic representation of some of the submissions received so far, starting to explore how Home/Place can use visual storytelling to highlight the layers, connections, and pathways of our collective memories.

Stay tuned for the next steps in this fascinating, timely project. We hope you will join us to see where it leads.

Art and the Handshake

Detail from “Romeo and Juliet” by Sir Frank Bernard Dicksee, 1884

Welcome back to the Production Manager Corner. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Michelle Kashinsky and I’m the Production Manager at Third Rail Repertory Theatre. I’ve been stepping out from behind our brilliant design teams to offer my perspective on how we move forward in this new world.

I’ve been thinking about the handshake. The week of April 6th, 2020, Dr. Anthony Fauci, head of the country’s National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, said: “I don’t think we should ever shake hands ever again, to be honest with you.”

Dr. Gregory Poland, M.D. of the Vaccine Research Group at the Mayo Clinic states: “The whole idea of extending your right hand derives from medieval times when you showed that by extending your right hand, you were not harboring a weapon. The reality of it is, in modern times, you may well be harboring a bio-weapon, so to speak. I think there are much more safe and culturally appropriate ways to indicate a greeting.”

While it is not every culture’s custom to shake hands, if what Dr. Fauci says is true, how will we as a nation choose to greet each other? On my mother’s side, we’ve always greeted each other with the “air kiss,” followed by saying, “MWAH!” It’s delightful, but may not be for everyone. There’s also the fist bump, the curtsey, the arm clasp, the Vulcan salute, and jazz hands.

If the landscape of how many of us greet each other on a daily basis does in fact change, what does this mean for how we represent greetings in the plays we produce? And what if a play calls for actors to kiss? What is safe and what is art? 

One of the most famous kisses in Western drama occurs in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, which was written in 1594. 

Romeo: Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take. 

              Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purged.

    [kisses her.]

Juliet: Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

Romeo: Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged!

            Give me my sin again.

   [Kisses her.]

Can this iconic scene be accomplished without touching? Do all actors need to wear gloves? Masks? Costume designers will become even more important if we have to integrate personal protective equipment into our costumes. 

Interestingly, 1594 happened to be right after theatres reopened from a plague that hit London. Claire Cochrane, a professor of theatre studies at the University of Worcester, said, “The current situation is almost unprecedented. The only comparison is really the plague outbreaks in the 16th century and the early 17th century – and then the really big outbreak in 1665 to 1666. In each case, the public theatres were closed to protect the public from infection.” 

When plague hit London in 1592, theatres remained dark from the fall of 1592 to the spring of 1594. London’s theatres closed again when another bout of plague hit from April 1603 to April 1604. The only option available for theatre companies during these times was to tour shows in the provinces of England. Sadly, with our current pandemic, touring is not an option.

We now share the same fears that existed when other calamities shuttered theatre doors across history. (Note: Calamity is now a word my 7-year-old uses in everyday conversation.) The very qualities that live theatre celebrates – communities coming together to witness human stories, responding with laughter, tears, and gasps – must be on hold for the time being. 

Theatres have been forced to close before, but they reopened. The capacity for cultural rebirth is alive in all of us. The most encouraging lesson we can learn from Shakespeare’s era is that the playhouses will survive and reopen, again and again. Theatre will adapt and find a way. It has and it will again!

Michelle

Incognito: The World We Were Creating

Actors Isaac Lamb and Maureen Porter, accompanied by their costume sketches. Photo by Owen Carey.

Welcome to the Production Manager Corner. My name is Michelle Kashinsky and this is my second season as Production Manager for Third Rail. I’m usually behind the scenes, making sure the designers and director have what they need in the room to do their beautiful work. I help the team keep on task, on schedule, and on budget. But since Incognito by Nick Payne never got to open, and with the arrival of the previously scheduled closing date (Saturday, April 11th), I wanted to share the world we were creating.

At our production meetings, the design team works to take the ideas of the play and put them into physical shape. Sometimes this is literal (a character plays the piano, so we hunt down a piano, move it into the theatre, tune it, and use it in the play). But sometimes the process is more abstract. And with Incognito, it was always more abstract.

First a note about the structure of Incognito: four actors play a combined twenty-one characters within the play’s three interwoven stories. A pathologist steals the brain of Albert Einstein; a neuropsychologist embarks on her first romance with another woman; a seizure patient forgets everything but how much he loves his girlfriend.

In the play, the character Anthony says this about starlings (small birds): 

“We watched the starlings. I love how they come together and move away and then come back together. They sometimes look like half a shape. It’s beautiful.”

This concept was a guiding principle that inspired much of the overall design. The designers worked to subtly guide the audience without their knowledge. One small bird, or design element, would not stand out by itself, but when you put all of them together (sets, costumes, lights, and sounds) something beautiful took shape. 

Specifically, a choice was made that the designers would not help us know which story we were following in any given scene. For example, each actor would wear the same costume throughout the show regardless of which character they were playing. And, despite the multiple locations in the play, everything would be played in a void made of black astroturf, wooden cubes, and a string art installation (instead of literal desks/chairs/tables). This disorienting effect would mirror the fragmentary structure of the play, and the design elements would all coalesce at the end: the audience would hear the complete melody of a piano piece, whereas earlier they only heard fragments; the audience would see a new vibrancy of color as the string art installation glowed in special lights, where before it was a dark structure in the space. 

Applause. End of play.

Please enjoy and please be well! And may the arts keep us going, give us hope, and reunite us again, safely, and soon.

Michelle (and Fiona and Rosie)


The Art of Flying

“We watched the starlings. I love how they come together and move away and then come back together. They sometimes look like half a shape. It’s beautiful.”


Costumes

Designer: Abigail Vaughan

Using different surface treatments we can create patterns derived from plant growth, fractals, brain scans, etc. … Textures or patterns that are barely there but then catch the light and become momentarily visible. The implication of thoughts and memories patched, woven, printed, and superimposed on our form.


Lighting

Designer: Company Member Jennifer Lin

Art gives us the language to talk about abstract things.”


Scenic Design

Designer: Megan Wilkerson

I love the thought of using materials with unidentifiable qualities.


Sound

Designer: Ryan Gamblin

“This selection of cues from Incognito demonstrates a variety of the textures and tones in the show. Atmospheric compositions for piano, realistic underlays that inform setting, and arpeggios that emphasize the pace of the events all come together, woven into the rich story and characters of Payne’s text.” 

Incognito: Two Minute Sound Sizzle

Dramaturgy

Dramaturg: Brian Myers

“Some of the characters in Incognito are neuroscientists and some are patients. The play is not exactly about the science, but it is imbued with awareness of the questions that neuroscience raises. … Playwright Nick Payne goes further: his concerns manifest themselves not just in the experience of the characters but also in those of the actors and the audience. Several features of the play challenge us in ways that foreground how we receive and process information.”

To read the full dramaturgical notes, click here.


The cancellation of revenue-generating programming will have a substantial impact on our organization, and we are extremely grateful to those who are able to give a little extra support to Third Rail at this time. 

Incognito: Dramaturgical Notes

Incognito Dramaturgical Notes by Brian Myers

Cognition


All this confirms me in thinking that we’re splinters and mosaics; not, as they used to hold, immaculate, monolithic, consistent wholes.
Virginia Woolf

When a personal computer starts up, you see a screen we conventionally call the desktop. On the desktop you might see folders, and inside the folders are documents. Once in a while something malfunctions. You might try to open a folder but get an error message, or you might open a document and see garbage characters. Malfunctions like these may provoke a recognition that we are not working with actual folders and documents. We have a sudden queasy fear that our work may have been lost somewhere down there in the ones and zeroes. An expert may diagnose the problem using words like file allocation table, master boot record, and disk sectors. While we are willing to posit the existence of such obscure mysteries, the explanation is full of confusing details that don’t fit well with our idea of a file and a folder. At any rate, we can’t do any more work until someone puts things right—until the underlying system is restored and once again maps correctly to our expectations for “folders” and “files.”

Folders and files are illusions. It’s not that they don’t exist, but they are not what they seem to be. The illusion of folder-ness is necessary and helpful. Like a good map it hides details, presenting just enough information to let us operate easily. We simply point and click to perform what is really a complex manipulation of digital information through a variety of hardware and software subsystems. But the map is not the territory.

Daniel Dennett, a philosophy professor and cognitive scientist, is well within the main stream of current thought when he proposes that the notion we have of ourselves as coherent rational beings is a useful illusion, much like a computer’s folders and files. Like a computer, the human brain also comprises a variety of complex subsystems. Oliver Sacks tells us, for example, that the brain processes a “continuous but unconscious sensory flow from the movable parts of our bodies (muscles, tendons, joints) by which their position and tone and motion are continually monitored and adjusted, but in a way which is hidden from us because it is automatic and unconscious.” Your brain creates for you an impression of yourself that serves as the user interface for a complex organism.

William James in 1890 distinguished “I” and “me” as components in the sense of self: “I” is a perceiving subject that knows things, and “me” is one of the perceived objects the “I” can know. Over the past few decades scientists have become more aware of how that self-perception manifests in the brain and how it may have evolved as a way of adapting to our environment. Antonio Damasio’s work has shown that emotions arise as complex physiological reactions to stimuli, and that feelings arise when the brain interprets emotions. Arthur Melton’s theory of memory recognizes three distinct memory sub-processes he named encoding, storage, and retrieval. Experiments by Michael Gazzaniga confirm the brain possesses a story-telling function, the interpreter, whose job is to explain events—to construct a model of the environment based on sensory input and memory. Much subsequent work has investigated how the brain constructs from memory an autobiographical sense of self.

Our notion of self is so fundamental to our experience that we take it for the most certain and undeniable reality of all. And as long as the input and output of our neurological processes align reasonably well with the outside world, we take that self-notion for granted. But any of these subsystems may fail, and a failure at any point can produce seemingly bizarre behavior of the sort popularized in books like The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat. Some patients fail to recognize one of their own limbs as part of themselves. Some persistently claim to be in places they manifestly are not. Some seem unaware that they are blind or paralyzed. When neuroscience finds causes for such symptoms in organic malfunction, the system of self-awareness we rely on is revealed to be more complex than our conscious experience allows us to perceive. We may have a queasy intuition that our notion of who or what we are dissolves somewhere down in the neurons and corpuscles.

Some of the characters in Incognito are neuroscientists and some are patients. The play is not exactly about the science, but it is imbued with awareness of the questions that neuroscience raises. Some of the characters experience malfunctions. Some cope with malfunctions in others. Most of them, healthy or not, experience mismatched perceptions, finding themselves in conversations with people who simply cannot see the world the same way they do. Some develop a queasy awareness that their own idea of who they are may be less accurate than they have assumed. 

Playwright Nick Payne goes further: his concerns manifest themselves not just in the experience of the characters but also in those of the actors and the audience. Several features of the play challenge us in ways that foreground how we receive and process information. Most prominently, the ordering of scenes doles out information in a way that deliberately complicates the audience’s efforts to connect the pieces into a coherent narrative. Also the actors each take on multiple roles, often switching with startling rapidity as the memories and emotions of a new person suddenly animate the same actor’s body. Doubling parts and skipping from place to place or time to time are standard fare in theater, but in this play those devices closely align with a concern for the fragility of the brain’s ability to interpret facts by constructing a story. The actors themselves are incognito—manufacturing identities and trapped night after night reliving the same memories as though each time were completely new. Payne explains: “the idea is there is no continuous self, so you don’t have a continuum between how and when and who they play. It’s never about a game or experiment, I honestly go in thinking it’s the best way to try and deliver the material.” He names the play’s three acts Encoding, Storing, and Retrieving. The names may direct attention to the audience’s experience as much as the characters’.

Incognito: A Tribute to Opening Night

In honor of what would have been Third Rail’s opening night of Incognito by Nick Payne, Core Company Members Maureen Porter and Darius Pierce have decided to go truly incognito, and perform one of their scenes disguised as remarkably talented children. Here to introduce one of the play’s interwoven storylines that follows (literally) the brain of Albert Einstein across America, please welcome Shiloh (age 5) and Julian (age 7).

Keep connected to Third Rail for information on future dates to see the rest of the story (performed by adults).


The cancellation of revenue-generating programming over the next several weeks will have a substantial impact on our organization, and we are extremely grateful to those who are able to give a little extra support to Third Rail at this time.