The Relativity Series: Circumstances Affecting the Heat of the Sun's Rays (Part 3)
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You really don't mean to say that you couldn't love me if my name wasn't Ernest? But your name is Ernest. Yes, I know it is. You can stream the entire L.A. TheatreWorks catalog of plays. Find out more at streaming.latw.org.

This play is part of L.A. TheatreWorks' Relativity Series of science-themed plays. Lead funding for the Relativity Series is provided by the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, bridging science and the arts in the modern world. This is L.A. TheatreWorks. I'm Susan Loewenberg.

Now, we continue with Circumstances Affecting the Heat of the Sun's Rays by Amanda Quaid, directed by Annalise Erickson, produced by L.A. TheatreWorks. Gentlemen and, uh, ladies and gentlemen.

I present to you Mr. Professor Joseph Henry, who will read a paper by Mrs. Eunice Foot.

Nobody clapped. In their minds, they did. Before I begin, I'd like to say a few words. Hush, listen. A few words, a few words. Science is of no country and of no sex. The sphere of woman embraces not only the beautiful and the useful, but also the true. What? True? False. Excuse me, Professor. I thought...

thought this was a gathering of brains and you spout balderdash like that revolt revolt revolt you girls are ridiculous there was no revolt honestly mother I've never seen you sit so still you were like a statue I was listening I was

was I supposed to look? But you lit up at the end when all the stiff black coats and baldy heads surrounded you with their hands out. You look like a little girl. I should hope not. In the most beautiful way. You were blushing. Oh, Mary, I was not. But you were. And Mary and I got pushed aside, of course, but we didn't mind, did we? There were lots of interesting people there, actually. Mary made her way through the crowd, but I just watched. I saw Papa step back, and Mama, his eyes were gleaming.

It was as though he was seeing you, and not just you, but you, as one beholds a painting. I'll never forget it. It seemed to make him so proud and happy. It made me happy, too, seeing him see you. For the lady on page 382. Congratulations. And to you. That's you, Mama! That's your name in there! Don't you feel something, seeing it in print?

It's just a name. It's your name. It's just my name. Come. Let us see.

There you are, Eunice Foote! What are the other ones? On Five New Mineral Species by Professor Charles U. Shepard, on The Purification of Amorphous Phosphorus by M. Ernest Nichols, on The Fecula of the Horse Chestnut by M. Jerome Nichols, on A New Species of Turkey from Mexico by Daniel Eaton,

On a peculiar case of colorblindness by John Tyndall. Imagine being colorblind. On the sexual reproduction of algae by Professor Pringsheim. Who says scientists have no fun? All right. Girls, would you please get changed and see about dinner? Yes. We'll help Lucy make a special dish. Congratulations, Mama. Thank you, Mary. Now what? Now we eat. I mean, what's next for you? What's next is more.

I'll go as far as I can. You'll have to push yourself. I know. If you don't, I will. I know. We're taking measurements! 1859. Atmospheric carbon dioxide, 286.1 parts per million parts of air. Mama! Mama!

of the greenhouse. Water's getting everywhere. The equipment. Grab those. Elisha! Elisha! Papa! Here's two buckets. We need more. I'll fetch more. Come on. Guns! Guns! This storm is beautiful.

I'll have this fixed in no time, sir. Thank you. You just go on reading your newspaper, learning about the world. That'll be fine. Thank you, I shall. This is my favorite starfish. It's the most beautiful, I think. Look at its suckers. And when you dissect it, see this pattern inside?

Oh, yes. The trick is to do it while they're still alive. They're easier to cut. The minute they die, they start to dry and you can't see the detail. You've certainly amassed a large collection. I could spend all day with them, observing, drawing, cataloging. I've been using a microscope to make these drawings. Want to see? You did all these? Every one. You have talent, Gus. They're remarkable. That's what my teachers say. Have you shown your mother? No.

I tried. She wasn't terribly receptive. You know how she is when she's on the scent. What do you plan to do with them? It's only for school. I mean, eventually. Maybe frame them? Put them in my study someday? I see you haven't inherited your mother's appetite for posterity. Maybe not. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

I really can't stand to see you up so high without a hand. Are you sure you won't accept my help? I am blessed with superhuman equilibrium, sir. Uh-huh. I started walking when I was only four months old. Well, we're here if you need us. I need another plate. Is Mama in your study? Yes, she's up there. I'll go get one.

That branch really took care of this pain. What was it, an elm? I don't know. It fell right down on it. Oh, yes. You can always tell the handiwork of an elm. You know, I'm convinced elms have it out for us. You ever think about things like that, where the trees have opinions? No. I think they do. Once I was walking in the woods. I was apprenticing to be a carpenter before I got into glass.

Still am a carpenter, I guess, just different material. Anyhow, I was out collecting wood right in the middle of the forest, and all of a sudden, the hair on the back of my neck went, and I thought, what is that, a bear? Bobcat? And I looked around, and no, it was the trees. I had this spooky sense that not only was I looking at them, but they were looking at me. You know what I mean?

Ah. Big moment in my life. I became a glazer after that. See, glass doesn't look at you that way. Glass doesn't give you the shivers. We do need wood. Well, maybe not as much as we think. So, do you live in a glass house, then? Sorry? Just playing the devil's advocate.

I ain't one of those. I suppose I am. Fair enough. You must use wood, though, in your life, in your home. Sure, I use it. I have to heat my home until I can change to coal.

Huh? Do you use coal? Yes. Oh, I figured in a house like this, you probably did. I can't afford it yet, but when I do, that'll be good news for the trees. For now, I guess that's what you call a necessary evil. I do use wood to heat my home, but I never touch an elm. They're vindictive. I see. Did the storm take you by surprise, then? Huh?

Me, I couldn't tell it was coming until it was right over my head. The day was fair. Well, you know, in Europe now, the Netherlands, I think, or Denmark, someplace like that, they have these weather stations. They can tell in the morning whether there'll be a storm at night. Prognostication. In that kind of a sense. We'll have those here soon enough.

Soon you'll be able to open your newspaper and know if you should take your galoshes out with you when you leave the house. It'll be good for trade. No more sinking cargo ships caught unaware in a storm, losing all that revenue. Probably good for the men on the ship as well. I'll just pop this paint in, be out of your way in a moment. That fits real nice.

Joseph! Hello! Elisha! Pardon the intrusion. Not at all. Come sit down. We're having a bit of work done. A roof broke last night, as you can see. A tree branch hit it. An elm! It was a terrible storm. Of course, Eunice was out in the middle of it, measuring the electric charge of the air.

Yes, Gus showed me in Said her mother was off working with an electrometer She's on electricity Not quite sure where she's going with it yet But I'm sure she'll find something Well, let's hope so

I'll pour you some coffee. Eunice was going to join me, but I gather she's absorbed. And how is Mary holding up in... Washington. That's right. She's rising in the ranks of society. Or so I hear. She doesn't write us very often, to be honest. She and Eunice butted horns in the last year she was home. Mm-hmm.

Mothers and daughters. And how's the patent office treating you? You miss the bench? Not in the least. I have to confess, I never felt law was my calling. Isn't that odd? My father was a judge, so I became one too. I was good at it, but probably no better than anything else I would have set my mind to.

Law is about precedent, systems, what's already been decided. It's musty, and quite honestly, it bored me. But the world of patents is just the opposite. It's all about the future. And of course, I still get to play judge. One man sues another over a patent he claims he discovered first, that sort of thing. How does he prove it? Most often, he can't. Ah. Hmm.

That'll do you. Thank you. Now, I insist you must let me help you down. Am I to infer that you work for the patent office, sir? Yes. Because I get ideas all the time. Well, send them our way. Well, I'll send you my bill first. Thank you. I'll show you out. I'll just go around. I can see the road from here. Good day, gentlemen.

Curious man. He said he stopped doing carpentry because he thought trees were sentient. Have you ever heard of that? Primitive man believed it. I suppose. So, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit? Well, I don't know what a pleasure it is. It pertains to Eunice, but I thought I should tell you first.

If it pertains to Eunice, I suggest you tell her first, or I'll never hear the end of it. Never hear the end of what? Oh, hello, Eunice. I'm sorry I couldn't greet you properly, Professor. I was at a moment critical. What are you working on these days? Electricity in the atmosphere. I'm trying to prove a correlation with barometric pressure. So far, the results are promising. I'm glad to hear it. So, what pertains to Eunice? Well...

I thought you should have a look at this. The Royal Society Journal. It's the leading science publication in Britain. Yes? Page 37. Hmm.

Ah, note on the transmission of radiant heat through gaseous bodies by John Tyndall, Ph.D. This is the John Tyndall? The one and only. I am anxious to state the results of an investigation in which I am now engaged. Nothing, so far as I am aware, has been published on the transmission of heat through gaseous bodies. We know...

Nothing of the effect even of air upon heat radiated from terrestrial sources. With regard to the action of other gases upon heat, we are not, so far as I am aware, possessed of a single experiment. Well, he's not aware of much, is he? When did this come out? Early this year. This is my experiment. These are the results I got. Well, ugh.

Thank you for telling me. I'll write to the Royal Society and ask for a correction. It'll embarrass him, but it should be simple enough. I'm sure it was an oversight. It's not as though John Tyndall reads every American science journal. He's across the Atlantic, so how is he to know? Well, that's just the question. You see, I also brought the journal your experiment was published in three years ago. There's yours on page 382. Yes.

but turn to page 143. On a peculiar case of colorblindness by John Tyndall. I see. Now, I don't want to be a troublemaker. I don't mean to cast aspersions.

But while we don't know that he read your experiment, we can be assured he did receive this particular issue of this particular journal. He stole it. We don't know that. Of course he did. You'd have a hard time proving it. Let me see it again. Why? It's obvious. Did you read his article on colorblindness? No. Did you read any article in that journal besides your own? Several. Which?

On the sexual reproduction of algae, for one. I shared it with Gus because she was becoming interested in the sea. What was it about? The sex lives of algae. Who was the author? Blake Hunt, something like that. Close. Pringsham. What were the methods he used? You see what I mean? I'm afraid I've also learned that there have been other studies by British atmospheric scientists in the past months...

And they credit Tyndall's discovery as a precedent. My discovery? His experiment, I should say. But what about the scientists in America who must be doing atmospheric research and using my experiment as a foundation? I don't know that there are any, Eunice. Why not? It's been three years. I'm not saying nobody read it. You are.

You and I both know the reality that if a scientist sees a paper by an unknown, and a woman, no less, I'm sorry to say, he'll likely treat it as incidental and move on. If he sees a paper by John Tyndall, he takes note. So I hurt my chances of it being built upon by publishing it in my name. Is that what you're saying? You know I don't see it that way. But some people do. Do you, Joseph?

I think what you did was important, Eunice. It was brave, and it was commendable. Right, I see. Well, now that I know everybody's been patronizing me... Please don't take it that way. You know I do love to be commendable. Excuse me. I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, Joe. I do wish there was something I could do. Well, can't the Academy set the record straight? It's...

possible, but between us it's unlikely. They prefer to ingratiate themselves to men like Tyndall, not embarrass them in print. Well, how embarrassing for them. You know how to reach me if there's anything I can do. Thank you, my friend. I'll show you out. Let's see what we have here...

Order Cryptozonia, Family, Echidna, Steridae, Genus Cribrella. Sorry to bother you. I left my measuring tape. Of course. I think I left it next to the new pain. I'll hold the ladder for you. No, that won't be necessary. What have you got there? Starfish, you said? Yes. Sort of an amateur biologist. In the true sense of the word, amateur, yes. A lover. Yes.

And did you say they're alive when you take them? Pardon me? The starfish. You said they were alive when you dissect them? Yes. Vivisection tells you more. What, do you object to it? Here it is. I just asked a question. I don't know anything about starfish. I doubt you do. I don't. No disrespect, but maybe the starfish is where it is for a reason.

Besides serving as a specimen for a pretty young portrait artist. I really mean no disrespect, but maybe a starfish is needed there. Or it needs to be there for some reason we don't know yet. And we'd be better off just leaving it alone. But then we'd never know the beauty of its inside. We might know other beauty. A glass man's a philosopher. Only in the true sense of the word.

And what qualifies you to serve as an arbiter of scientific ethics? Do you ever hear voices? Voices? I mean, in your head. No. I do sometimes. From the future. Voices from the future? That's nothing to be alarmed about. I'm perfectly well. Well, what do they want? Hard to tell. But I think, I'm starting to think, they want us to be here in a different way. They want us to show some restraint.

What does that mean, us? All of us. You never hear them? No. I could have sworn you did, too. I don't. I just love nature, that's all. Funny word, isn't it? Nature. I've got to get out in nature, everyone has started saying. Do you hear people use that expression? As though it's outside over there, not inside of us. Separate.

I think that's the whole problem. And I think in the future, it could be a very big problem indeed. I think that's what the voices are trying to say. I've put you on edge. I seem to do that. But it struck me with your starfish. Just playing devil's advocate. But I'll leave you in peace. Enjoy the weather. It might rain later. In fact, I think it will rain later. Huh.

1862. Atmospheric carbon dioxide is 286.5 parts per million parts of air. Hello? Is anybody home? Mama? Where is everyone?

My God, it's hot. Sit down. I should feed him. Do you mind? No, of course not. I was here just months ago and already there's a new factory down there. You can see the smoke from here. New shops, new everything. The whole country's booming. You can't escape it as much as I try. The future hasn't reached Cape Cod, I assume? You do feel it encroaching, but I spend so much time at the beach I hardly notice. I haven't been to a beach in ages.

Did you know Washington is an actual swamp? I live in a swamp. You look radiant, Mary. You do. I almost didn't recognize you across the station. I expected you to be... Fat and frumpy. No, no, just different, I guess. I do try to keep up appearances, Gus.

We have to keep up appearances for Daddy's job, don't we, little one? I don't follow politics. Should I start? No. Enjoy your ignorance. Where are they? Papa said they'd be here to meet us. Is that you? Mama! Come down! I'll be right there. When were you last up? Honestly, I haven't visited in years. They came down for the wedding. That was the last time I saw either of them. Hi, girls. Hello, Mama. Hi.

Hi, Mother. I didn't get up, but... Looks like you're occupied. Would you like to meet him? I certainly would. Well, hello, John. That's your Grandma Eunice. What a little doll. Isn't he? He favors his daddy. Yes. Can I get you both something? Would you like some lemonade? Oh, yes, please. Oh, I can get it. In the kitchen? On the table.

He's a bit big to be breastfeeding, isn't he? Well, I tried to wean him. He's not a good eater yet. You were the same. I took you right off as soon as I could. You cried for a couple of days, but eventually you figured it out. If you offered him nothing but food... Mother! I'll mind my own business. Mm-hmm.

It's just that I went out last week to see Laura Green's baby. Remember Laura from school? He's just the age of yours, and he crawls all over. She works, of course, so she can't give him the same attention, and it's good. He has to make do for himself. And he weighs 18 pounds and is perfectly fine. I think John Jr. would be just as strong and healthy if he had as little care.

You think I should ignore him? I think you should wean him. Here you are, Mary. I'll set it there. And Mama. Thank you. Well, cheers, everybody, to all of us finally under the same roof. Or tree, I suppose. You can let him cry. It's good for his lungs. Stop crying. Do you see anybody else crying? No one else is crying. Thank you, Mother.

It's all right. Where's Papa? At the office. He wanted to be here to meet you, but he had to go in earlier today. Must be lots of patents. More every day. We saw all the factories coming through town. Yes. Well, factories means production, means opportunity, means patents. Every smokestack you see is some big boy's big idea. I think he's tired. It was a long train ride.

If you'll excuse me, I'll put him down inside. Just set him under the tree. He needs to nurse to sleep and likes me to lie with him for a bit. And I like to lie with him, too. Please go easy on her, Mother. She's doing so well with him. What did I do? She's trying to... Trying to what? Never mind. No. Trying to what? Listen. I have something for you. Oh. The Sea Beach at Ebtide by Augusta Foote. What's this?

It's a book I've written. A compilation of my drawings and taxonomy, covering all life on the eastern seaboard. It's long. It's definitive. Well, let's see. The eggs of the young are carried around in the mouth of the mother. Oh, there's an error there. You wrote moth of the mother. Well, they'll fix it. Who will? My publisher. It's coming out this fall.

It's a funny story. The family I stay with on the Cape was going to a dinner party one night and insisted I join them. I didn't want to go, but I dragged myself along. The hostess was intent on me meeting a man who worked for a publishing house in New York City, so she sat us together. You know how ladies like to match young people up. Anyway, we didn't hit it off in quite the way she planned, but he was interested in my work.

And it turns out he's an amateur botanist. And he was just fascinated by my descriptions of cephalopods. I kept expecting his eyes to glaze over the way peoples always do, but he was on the edge of his seat. He said there's nothing definitive about marine life from the area, particularly the way I lay it all out. I have drawings alongside taxonomical names with interesting facts about each and every genus. And I use quotes from poets Wordsworth, Shakespeare, Longfellow to draw the reader in.

So it's no ordinary science text. It's a sort of guide on how to be in a deeper relationship with nature. I think with the speed life is moving at now, people are more in need of that than ever before. Well, anyway, I wanted you to have a copy. So you're making quite a name for yourself. Maybe after this comes out. It's good press. But of course, nobody goes into science to be famous.

So, now I'll be the second foot woman to be published in the family. An article in a journal isn't quite the same thing as a book. Still, you were the pioneer. You were the first person to... Don't do this, Gus. What? Whatever you're doing. I'm proud of my career. There's no reason you shouldn't be. I know. Good. You don't have to tell me. I know. Good. All right, look. Never mind. I don't know what I hoped for this to be. Hoped for what to be? I don't know. What? What?

You want me to tell you that it's good? You don't need me to tell you it's good. I take you seriously. I'm a mentor to you. You're a mother to me. Well, I didn't get where I got being told that I was good. Fine. Quite the opposite. Anyway, I hope you'll read it. Of course I'll read it. And I hope you'll like it. So, what are you working on these days? Patents, actually. Really? Surprised? A bit.

How did that come about? I just got a good idea one day. Oh, come, there must be more to it than that. You've always hated patents. Well, as you know, I sometimes get storm clouds in my head sometimes. And I take walks. So I went for a walk one day about a month ago to clear the clouds. Up that big hill, huffing and puffing. I was trying to march, you know, to stomp them out. But my boots were squeaking.

There I was, furiously trying to get myself on track, and all I hear is eek, eek, eek. So I thought, well, I can't seem to work on anything else. Why not work on that? I made a new kind of boot sole out of vulcanized rubber that keeps ladies' boots from squeaking. Patented it. They haven't produced them yet, but still, it's mine. Mine? I have the patent to prove it.

I have to say, it felt so gloriously official after everything that happened. So invulnerable. I've got to hand it to your father. There's something to be said for a patent, after all. I think I'll stick to them. You could still write a book, Mama. About what? All you found. I made a modest discovery, Gus. It was published, then forgotten. Despite my feelings, that's really not uncommon. Unless there's a snowball effect, there's not much momentum in a single experiment.

That's what happened for Tyndall. The timing was right, or he was famous enough that people perked up when they saw his name. His version just caught on. But who knows what is good and what is bad? What's that mean? Oh, that was a saying my mother liked to use whenever anything happened. Who knows what is good and what is bad? She was a farmer's wife, you know. And her philosophy, if you could call it that, drove us children crazy.

"'Our apples won first prize at the county fair.' "'Well, who knows what is good and what is bad?' "'But, Mama, that's good.' "'But what if word gets out we have the best apples in the county "'and some thief comes in the night and takes them all, you see? "'Or, Mama, Silas broke his leg. "'Maybe that broken leg will keep him from climbing the tree "'he would have fallen from and died. "'Who knows what's good and what's bad?'

I used to think Mama was mad. But now, I think she was on to something. But surely you're not saying it's good Tyndall got the credit? I'm not saying it's good. But I'm not saying it's bad. By virtue of the fact that I'm standing right here in this body, on this spot, at this moment, I don't have the whole picture. You see? Maybe the world needed to hear it. Maybe they only heard it because it came from him.

I just don't pretend to know anymore what's good and what's bad. He's asleep. Look, Mary, our Gus is going to be a published author. What? This is her book, published next year. The Definitive Guide to Marine Life on the Eastern Seaboard. The whole ride from the train, you never told me. I was saving it for Mama. Well, congratulations! May I see? Oh, my, look. This is beautiful. Great.

You always were doing these little drawings. What made you think to turn them into a book? Well, one day I just saw something. You know, I used to go to the water, find animals and vivisect them. I thought I'd learn more. But then one day I started watching them. And that was when it all opened up for me. This will sound strange to you both probably, but it became a kind of act of worship to watch that closely. And science can be that too, I think.

Rather than striving and pushing and cutting open and laying claim, it can be a kind of holy watching. And I think that's what's needed of me. So I put that in a book, and maybe someone else might come to feel it's what's needed of them. You know, it's always been my dream to write a book. About what? My life, I think, or a novel.

It's just a silly dream. But you've made it your mark on future generations, Gus. Our family's mission statement, eh? I don't think I'll ever do anything like that. I'll be right back. Wait. Let him cry a bit. See? More lemonade? Please, Mama. I'll be right back. I don't trust myself to know what's good for him anymore.

When people give advice, I get anxious if I listen to them. Anxious if I don't. Especially her. But then, was she a good mother, do you think, to us? I don't know. Girls, welcome home. Gus, Mary. You brought the baby, didn't you? He's asleep inside. Look at you both together. It's been too long. What were you doing at work?

Finishing up something I'll tell you about. Sit. Sit.

That was fast. I only went in to collect something very important. Part of my job at the patent office is meeting with factory owners who are setting up shop nearby. I introduce them to the latest patents, make suggestions for products they might want to manufacture. It's the fun part of my job, because I get to change the life of some moiling and toiling inventor who's never had his work produced before. Well, last month, I got word there was a new factory coming into Northville doing rubber work.

Pencil erasers, tires, gloves, that kind of thing. And boots. We've had some talk over the last few weeks. I didn't want to be too leading, so I used some Socratic method on them. Got them thinking beyond utility to problems they could solve in the personal realm. For ladies, which is of course the largest market.

One of them actually said his wife's worst annoyance was her squeaky boots. I didn't even have to say it. He said it. So with that, I told them all about your patent, Eunice. With full disclosure, of course, I said you were my wife, but not only my wife, a damn fine inventor, in tune with the needs of real women everywhere. Laying it on a bit thick? They read it. They love it. They want to take it on.

To make my boots. On a large scale. It's a big contract, Eunice, and I hereby take this opportunity, our whole family in the same place for once, to debut Boots by Foot. Boots by Foot. The prototype came in today. That's what I had to go pick up. You'll forgive me for missing your arrival. Have a look, Eunice. Well, look at that. Now the best part. Turn them over.

There's my name. Stamped on the sole of every one they make. Well, I'm speechless. Congratulations, Mother. Try them on. You go ahead, Mary. Squeaky boots plague me as well. In Washington, whenever John takes me to a party, we're always walking on these marble floors and the squeak echoes through the halls. It's awful. So, let's try this boot by foot. It fits. Hmm.

No squeak. I like it. You try, Gus. Oh, my feet are too big. It looks good, though. Mother, you should try them. They're comfortable. That's all right. And you can keep them, Mary, if they fit. Where does rubber come from? Trees. Christopher Columbus discovered it. Now we get it from the Amazon. Is that so? I assumed it was man-made. No, it's a natural resource. It comes from trees. There they go.

The future is here. I'm going to get the paper. Would anybody like anything? No, thank you, Papa. What is the smoke? From a factory? You mean what's in it? Sulfur dioxide. Carbon dioxide. The sun's beating down. I'm sitting under the tree. The ground is cooler there. Me too. I will too. Eunice Foote's work on what is now known as the greenhouse effect

was lost until 2011. A retired geologist in Tulsa, Oklahoma, chanced upon her experiment in an old science journal in his basement. In 1862, atmospheric carbon dioxide was 286.5 parts per million parts of air. In 2011, atmospheric carbon dioxide was 388.91 parts per million parts of air.

In 2024, atmospheric carbon dioxide is 421 parts per million parts of air.

This is L.A. TheatreWorks' production of Circumstances Affecting the Heat of the Sun's Rays by Amanda Quaid, directed by Annalise Erickson, starring Jeffrey Arendt as Elisha Foote, Tara Lynn Barr as Augusta Foote, Scott Brick as the narrator and Joseph Henry, Jake Green as the glazier, Monica McSwain as Mary Foote, and Emily Swallow as Eunice Newton Foote.

Senior Producer, Annalise Erickson. Prepared for audio by Mark Holden. Recording Engineer and Editor, Neil Woganson. Mixing Engineer, Charles Carroll. Designed by Mark Holden and Charles Carroll for the Invisible Studios, West Hollywood. Senior Radio Producer, Ron Lipkin. Foley Artist, Stacey Martinez. I'm Susan Loewenberg, Producing Director of L.A. TheatreWorks.