Bob Wright

Bob Wright hadn’t directed a show at Ascension Parish since 1991, but at his funeral Mass in Ascension Church last week, 26 former cast members showed up to serve as the choir. Ever the director, Wright left instructions for his funeral. He wanted “Amazing Grace” and “Panis Angelicus,” but he also included a showstopper. As the casket was carried out, Bob Maravich sang “This is the Moment” from Jekyll & Hyde.

This is the moment!

This is the day,

When I send all my doubts and demons

On their way.

Every endeavor

I have made – ever

Is coming into play,

Is here and now – today!

“He was terrific,” said one of Ascension’s erstwhile troupers, Mary McEnery. “He was a big bear, a loving marshmallow guy, but all business, no nonsense.”

He started directing shows in 1968 at St. Bernardine Parish in Forest Park with a group called Act IV. He also directed a few shows at Village Players and St. Giles.

In 1978, Ascension tapped him to direct their annual parish extravaganza, which he led for the next 13 years.

“He was a fabulous director,” said Lynn Kirsch, who frequently did the choreography and staging for Ascension’s shows. “He was low-key but got big-bang results.”

Wright loved the showstopper, Kirsch said, and incorporated several into each show. “Lots of times people would say, ‘That’s not going to work.’ It did work. You had to believe in him.” One time he even had Mary Poppins fly down from the gym balcony.

The troupe at Ascension really bonded. “We became a community,” McEnery recalled, “a support group. People met and married.”

When McEnery interviewed him for the parish centennial, Wright told her, “I was not only accepted, but I immediately felt a caring, loving and warmth. Friendships grew and, to this day, are a cherished part of my life. God knew what He was doing when He led me to Ascension.”

“He was calm, quiet, easy to talk to,” Kirsch recalled, “easy to be with. He never got angry, just a little edgy. There were times he should have gotten angry.”

John Walters, a deacon at St. Bernardine and a frequent cast member, said in his eulogy he knew the group had bonded on Jan. 10, 1982, the coldest day in Chicago history (26 below zero) when everyone showed up for rehearsal. “It was our chance to escape from cabin fever and, for that matter, from reality, from the mundane parts of our lives. Bob orchestrated not just a show but fashioned a community, and he made us all stars.”

He lived alone in Forest Park (with a mug commemorating each of the 40 shows he directed) and worked for a computer software firm, though he was ill for a number of years and didn’t get out much. He had a number of close friends, though, including Christ and Marge Moskos, Russ and Carolyn Circo, and his helpmate Marlene, who all adopted him and made him part of the family.

“He was shy,” said Kirsch, “embarrassed by praise.”

One of the songs he requested didn’t make it into the funeral, so his former cast members sang “What I Did for Love” a cappella at the Queen of Heaven interment chapel.

No doubt Bob Wright would have asked them to take it again, from the top.

-Ken Trainor