Island life leads you down the most interesting paths. Drawing from a limited population means that people are encouraged—some would say coerced—into doing things that they would never ordinarily do. I wouldn’t exactly say that standards are lower, but they’re a little stretched.

One of my favorite examples of this is the Swan’s Island theater program. Now don’t get me wrong—there have been and will continue to be many wonderful, high-quality performances out here. But whereas in other locations you might audition for a small part in competition with multiple other people, out here if you nod “OK” one too many times you end up with a leading role.

The Hockamock Players is our current theatrical group. In the 1990s they had the good fortune to get Gene Jellison as their director. Gene grew up on Swan’s Island, went to Colby College and eventually taught drama in Santa Monica, California.

In a 2009 interview, Betty Carlson remembered acting in Gene’s plays.

“We couldn’t have gotten any better director from Broadway,” she said.

Their first production was I Have Seen Myself Before by Virgil Geddes. Another interesting historical note: Virgil and his wife Mina moved to Swan’s Island in 1965 and lived in the old Atlantic Schoolhouse which was later converted into the old library.

They followed that production with Arsenic and Old Lace, in which Betty played one of the elderly sisters.

“We did a play at least once a year after that,” Betty said. “I think once we did two.”

Betty was a regular feature of the island plays, known and loved. “I am a ham from way back,” she admitted.

Gene continued directing as long as he was able. Four years ago John and Paula MacKay took on the task of maintaining the Hockamock Players. The MacKays have done enormous amounts of work for the theater group and upkeep of the Odd Fellows Hall.

There were plays at the Hall long before the Hockamock players came into being. I talked with Carolyn Martin and Marion Stinson about the productions they remembered from their younger years.

It seems that back then, like now, people were mostly in it for the fun.

“Oh, we were awful,” Marion confessed. She remembered one of her final plays, Miss Dill of Dippyville:

“Everyone signed up for it and this one wanted this part and this one wanted this part—I got stuck with Miss Dill. Well, that’s alright—but there was two or three other ones that wouldn’t show up for rehearsal.”

Marion helped out by supplying the missing parts:

“I knew all the lines so I was them, and them, and me!” she laughed. That method had its share of problems, Marion explained:

“Once in a while, Arthur would say something from the time I went to make one of the speeches, and I’d go right back to what he said. It wasn’t even supposed to be in there!”

Carolyn had her share of fun in the play, as well:

“Terry Staples was in it and he insulted me or something and I was supposed to make-believe slap him,” she said. “Well, he told me to do it on purpose that night. Well you oughta heard that cast go ‘Gasp!’ when I slapped his face! I didn’t slap him that hard, but they just went ‘gasp!’ Wasn’t supposed to do that!”

“We used to have a good time though,” Carolyn said. “Made fools of ourselves sometimes, but that’s what they wanted to see.”

I am constantly impressed by the feats that can be accomplished by a ragtag group. Over the past two years I’ve been part of the Hockamock Players’ summer musical productions, which somehow emerge out of sheer chaos in the course of a few weeks.

Last year we had a musical revue that featured selected highlights from four shows. Being a young female with vocal chords, I was cast as Maria in both West Side Story and The Sound of Music. I made it out alive, and though not even my parents mistook me for a real soprano, I will never regret the opportunity to have my own backup group of singing nuns.

This year’s production, Rockin’ at the Palace, was written by John MacKay. A group of singing sensations from the late 1950s descends on a small dance hall—cracking jokes, crooning and rustling crinoline petticoats. It was a hoot, and gave us all an important reminder: if it’s your party, you can cry if you want to.

The plays are a wonderful continuance of the island tradition of making your own entertainment. Year after year, people are ready to make fools of themselves for the benefit of the public. And that’s really what it’s all about.

Kaitlin Webber is an Island Fellow on Swan’s Island through AmeriCorps and the Island Institute.