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By Donald H. Harrison
 SAN DIEGO——Katie Babb the actress isn’t a household name yet, but, no matter, my grandson Shor Masori, 8, possibly will remember her always as his very first.
She was the first actress to sign his first-ever autograph book following Wednesday night’s performance at the Civic Theatre of the touring Fiddler on The Roof starring the legendary Topol.
Babb, who had been understudying the part of Hodel—Tevye’s second daughter, who takes a train to Siberia to be with Pirchik, the revolutionary—got the chance to step out of the ensemble and into the part on Wednesday night, and she was as gracious as could be when Shor shyly asked her to sign his new book.
“Shor,” she wrote. “Hope you loved it.”
Let me assure her that love it he did, because going to see Fiddler on the Roof, the play, was a major moment in his life, for which Shor had gone to extra effort to prepare. We had watched the movie together several months ago, and he had loved it so much he promptly asked his 2nd grade Judaica teacher at Soille San Diego Hebrew Day School whether he and his classmates could watch it some day in school.
“Hmmm, let me see,” said his morah, but as beloved as Fiddler is, the movie is somewhat controversial at an Orthodox Jewish school. Tevye’s daughters break one tradition after another – the eldest Tzeitel preferring her childhood friend Motel for a husband over the butcher Lazar Wolf, whom Yenta the Matchmaker had decided upon. The second daughter, Hodel, didn’t even ask Tevye’s permission to marry Perchik—and at her wedding men and women danced with each other—instead of separately. Finally, there was Chava—the third daughter—who eloped with a non-Jewish Russian boy, Fyedka, and was banished by her family. Additionally, there were women singing—exposing men to their voices—so, no, this might not have been the perfect movie to show in the Orthodox school.
Shor got over his disappointment when he heard that Topol—the very same actor who had played Tevye in the movie—was coming to San Diego and would play Tevye again in his farewell tour on stage. Shor was so excited he volunteered to get a haircut and insisted that I, his grandfather, get one too. He put on a white shirt, and a clip-on tie, and dress slacks, and inspected me in my business suit to make certain that I was at least presentable.
The curtain didn’t go up until 7 p.m., but Shor made certain that we were at the theatre at least an hour ahead of time, and he insisted that we be the first ones in our seats when the doors finally opened. “What time is it? What time is it?” he asked me again and again, but I don’t wear a watch. So as other people filed into the theatre, Shor got acquainted with them, never failing to politely ask for the time. “It’s exactly one minute after the last time you asked me,” one smiling seat neighbor told him.
Shor and I made a deal that if someone tall sat in front of him and someone short sat in front of me, we would switch seats, and so we did. When the opening number, “Tradition” began, Shor tried hard not to bounce in his seat with excitement. But
quite quickly like the rest of the audience, he was absorbed in the play and captivated by Topol—who added quite a bit of shtick here and there to the Tevye role.
When Shor watched the movie, a portion of Tevye’s dream — when Fruma-Sarah comes up from the underworld—gave him the willies. He had made me promise that should we watch the move again, we would fast forward the tape through that part.
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Knowing there would be a similar scene on stage, Shor told me that he would cover his eyes, and that I should tap him on the shoulder three times when it was over. He was not posturing—the part really frightened him—and as it was going on during the musical, I could feel him trembling next to me. Fortunately, there were no residual effects after I tapped him per agreement; he happily got right back into the play.
Shor had his new autograph book under his seat, and during intermission he wondered aloud if it would be possible to get Topol’s autograph. A gentleman pointed the way to the Stage Door (near the corner of 3rd and C Street) and said if Shor waited there, perhaps he would get to meet the great actor. This Shor resolved to do—but he did not reckon on the fact that on Wednesday night, about 25 members of the cast and crew would come onto the stage after the performance to take questions from the audience.
Would Topol stay to participate in that—or would he go out the stage door? Who could tell? As the actors began filling the stage, we decided to stay—hoping that we would see Topol in his civilian clothes among the other cast members. But the star apparently decided that it would be nice to yield the limelight to the other actors, and he slipped away. In the front row, Shor listened carefully as the actors and actresses answered questions from the audience about rehearsal schedules, their feelings about working with Topol and whether a bottle in the famous bottle dance has ever been broken (“Yes”).
When the session ended, we went to the stage door to await the actors. The couple behind us confided that their daughter was the actress who had played Hodel, and they promised that even if Shor received no other autograph, they were reasonably certain they could persuade their daughter to give him hers. In fact, she needed no persuasion; she smilingly and graciously acceded to Shor’s nervous request.
That emboldened him to seek out other cast members, and he quickly bagged the autographs of Eric Liberman, who played Motel ("for Shor, with very best wishes and my thanks"); Joel Bernstein, who portrayed the rabbi (“Hey Shor! All the best!); Eric Van Tielen, who was the Fyedka (“Tradition”) and Suzie Cella, who played “Golde” and was content to simply sign her name without adding any message.
Another member of the cast I did not recognize, but he signed with a flourish. “Shor, Always believe in your dreams, much love and light—D.W. Gilleo.”
“What part did he play?” Shor asked.
I riffled through the Playbill, and answered “I’m almost afraid to tell you—Froma-Sarah was two people—one on top singing, the other on bottom carrying the singer. Mr. Gilleo was the bottom of Froma-Sarah.”
It was good that Gilleo advised Shor to believe in his dreams and not those of Tevye.
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