Monday, Oct. 19, 1942

Arms v. Art

In its 19-year history, Philadelphia's Hedgerow Theater has garnered as much glory as any community playhouse in the U.S. Its director, disheveled, 49-year-old Jasper Deeter, is hopelessly stage-mad but brilliantly stage-minded. He has built up a permanent company who get no salary (only board & lodging on a comfortable farm), receive no billing (yet often turn down good paying offers). Indifferent to commercial success Hedgerow is content to pioneer with unknown playwrights and to pay tribute to great ones--Shakespeare, Moliere, Shaw.

Last week glory went out the window while notoriety came in at the door. It has been over two years a-coming, ever since Director Deeter read one script he could not handle. That script was the Selective Service Act. Deeter realized that most of his actors would be caught in the draft. Five of his men were conscientious objectors, but to Deeter their consciences seemed to mean less than their contribution to art. The life of Hedgerow was threatened, and with it the lamp of culture.

Director Deeter sat down and wrote to President Roosevelt, characterizing Hedgerow as "a work of national importance" and requesting a blanket exemption for his group. The President turned the letter over to the Adjutant General's office, which curtly told Deeter that nobody could change the will of Congress.

The draft came. The five conscientious objectors were all classified IA. (A sixth man took his chances, was put in 4-F.) Hedgerow besought the draft board to defer its IAs because of their importance: Morgan Smedley, "in charge of the ushering, parking and patrolling staff"; David Metcalf, "an institution builder"; George Ebeling, "importantly placed on the direction committee." They got nowhere. Hedgerow wrote to Major General Hershey. It appealed to Paul V. McNutt of the War Manpower Commission. It implored Eleanor Roosevelt to do something. They still got nowhere.

Fortnight ago, having worked ineffectually behind the scenes, Hedgerow spoke its lines from the center of the stage. To influential citizens all over the country went letters asking for testimonials to help "change the minds" of draft officials. No replies were announced, but the Philadelphia papers last week loosed on Hedgerow a flood of sarcasm and censure for getting too big for its Army boots.

At just that moment one of the conshies, 26-year-old Russian-born Michael De Beausset (who played Major Swindon in Shaw's The Devil's Disciple), was due to turn up for induction. Instead he wrote the Army a letter: "As I explained to my draft board, I like the United States of America. But my sentiments would hamper the war effort." He was promptly arrested as a draft-dodger.

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