Chapter 1:
A Prologue of Sorts
As of yet, I have found that no publication in any form of media actually details the full events which culminated in the fire which burned down the 'Leroux's Dinner Theater' in 2008. There are, of course, certain facts which they all agree upon. 'Leroux's' did, in fact, burn down. And for about two months beforehand, a young actor named Eric Reid had been missing, eventually turning up at 'Leroux's' on a daily basis for rehearsals for the new original musical 'Straight Arrow Heart'.
Along with a few other small details, these are the only facts which every article I've read agree upon. Some articles claimed that, during his time away from his mother, Reid was coordinating with four-to-seven cohorts in order to burn the dinner theater down after having been replaced last minute for the lead role in 'Leroux's' production of 'West Side Story'. Others say it was the family of his replacement for 'West Side Story' who set the fire after the opening weekend's tragic conclusion.
The theories kept coming (they still are today); each newspaper, website, and news station piling on a little more onto their own version of the story. None of them are right, of course. They leave out much, if only because none of us who worked at the dinner theater felt comfortable releasing those details.
Indeed, in not a single publication did any of us mention the strange string of happenings which transpired in the months before production began on 'Straight Arrow Heart'. None of us commented on the numerous murders which began occurring shortly after my friends and I began our tour as owners of 'Leroux's'. Naturally, none of us would dare to speak of the ghost which haunted the theater for the past thirty-some years.
Some may scoff at this testimony for its absurdity, but it is because of its absurdity that we chose to omit it from the police and journalists who hounded us for answers after the fire. At the time we feared mockery and ridicule, but now we've found we're ready to speak up. After having interviewed the surviving members of 'Leroux's' staff who were willing to meet with me and compiling their testimonies with my own into a comprehensive portrait of events, I feel secure in saying this should be the most accurate view of what really happened behind the closed doors of 'Leroux's Dinner Theater'. Finally, the world will know the story of 'Straight Arrow Heart'.
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To those unfamiliar with the history of 'Leroux's Dinner Theater', allow me to provide a brief overview of its biography.
In 1946, Sebastian Leroux, age 18, left France with his family and migrated to the States in order to seek new opportunities at the end of World War II. In France, the boy's mother had been an actress on stage; performing many shows throughout the course of the war. His father had worked construction, but was drafted to fight until 1943 when a piece of shrapnel severely mutilated his hand.
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While the prospect of coming to America and starting a new life sounded like a dream, the Leroux family found it to be anything but. Mrs. Leroux couldn't find work. Acting, she was told, would never be an option for her because of the thickness of her accent. And Mr. Leroux took to working in a diner, making barely enough to get by. Sebastian did what he could, taking low paying jobs at warehouses whenever he could.
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For years the family struggled, until a stroke of luck in 1954 brought a small fortune to Sebastian in the form of a very well dealt hand of poker. At the time, the 'small fortune' was enough to secure a small building in Chicago, where he and his dad opened a restaurant called 'De Taste'. It struggled at first, but soon began to thrive, and continued to for many years. However, shortly after the death of Sebastian's mother in 1960, the place closed down.
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After a time of mourning, Sebastian decided to open a new restaurant; 'Leroux's'. And, to honor his mother, the restaurant would include a stage for performances; playing host to house productions of famous plays and giving young students at the Art Institute the professional experience they'd need to help get their careers off the ground. The project took some time to get going, but then on August 23rd, 1965, 'Leroux's Dinner Theater' opened, and both food and theater critics alike found the experience more than fantastic.
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Years of reputation made Leroux's almost something of a legend in the Chicago-land area.
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Enter the new millennium, the year two thousand. In the middle of the night on the twelfth of November, the man had suffered a stroke. The community was shaken; what should happen to this land-marked jewel if it's founder were to die? After his death, who would take it over, and would they respect it the way it was meant to be respected? Or would they simply run it into the ground?
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Fortunately, those questions didn't need to be answered immediately. The man survived that first stroke. He continued on, managing Leroux's Dinner Theater as well as he could (with much assistance). However, on January second, 2003 Sebastian Leroux died after another stroke. In his will, it was declared that ownership and management of 'Leroux's Dinner Theater' would be left up to a decision finalized by his estate, proprietor of which was his brother-in-law, William Scarman. Though their hearts still worried over the place, the populace was at least comforted by the knowledge that Scarman would be deciding to whom ownership of the theater would go. He was a man heavily involved with the business, and cared for it every bit as much as Leroux himself did. Surely, it was thought, that he would not make hast in a decision. He would make certain the keys went to the right person.
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Years of interviews and bidding wars ensued. I've come to understand that Scarman had handled himself very well in the beginning. His demeanor the first time I'd met him was very pleasant. He sat in the office at Leroux's behind the desk his late brother-in-law had spent so much time behind. A smile was spread across his face, and his eyes peered at my partners and me with a look which was both scrutinizing and inviting.
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His inquiries, none of which did my partners seem to want me to answer (heaven knows why), were all geared specifically to the essence and character of Leroux's. "Tell me what you know about Leroux's?" "What was your first show at Leroux's?" "How do you feel about the quality of our productions?" and the hidden snake in the grass, "What do you think some of the first changes you'd make would be should you take ownership of Leroux's?"
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Andrew Colgrey and Cole Foldress, my partners, were caught slightly off-guard by this line of questioning, but their answers came with the ease of remembering one's own name. They told what they remembered about the late Leroux; his history and climb to success. Foldress spoke about a performance of Hamlet he'd seen at the theater when he was twelve with his class. Colgrey lamented about a production of 'West Side Story' he'd seen in which Sebastian Leroux himself filled the role of 'Officer Krupke'.
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Scarman smiled at the memory and remarked that 'West Side Story' had always been one of Leroux's favorites.
Shoved into silence by the two, I finally spoke up when Scarman inquired about what we'd change. "Nothing," I said confidently. "We wouldn't change a thing."
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And I meant that. I knew how other managers would act. They'd shake up casting choices based on favoritism or drastically change the menus... redecorate in a style vastly out of character for the place. But why, after such success, would we want to gamble with change?
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I didn't attend the next couple of interviews due to some personal family matters, but I've come to understand that Scarman's behavior became more and more cross with each meeting. The next time I did see him, he was little more than a pale reflection of the jovial man I'd met some years prior.
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Yes, I said years. Call it a gift or a curse, but the man went to great lengths to ensure the right buyer inherited the restaurant. Frankly, I'd have done the same. For how cherished the place was, he could have continued interviewing us another five years and I wouldn't have held it against him.
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As I was saying, the next time I had seen Scarman, he was very much a different man. His face had aged nearly fifteen years in those four, and the kind, pleasant man I'd met before was seemingly long gone. He was snappy and cross (apparently another party he'd narrowed it down to was pressing him for a decision). I'd like to think that's part of the reason why he selected us to sell 'Leroux's' to; we were patient. Although I, Foldress and Colgrey were three college graduates with student loans to pay off, we were willing to wait to get what we wanted. Thankfully it paid off.
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And that, reader, is all you need to know to dive in to this unusual tale. The conclusion of the 'prologue', if you will. Before I proceed, I should like to thank;
Eric Reid Megan Rader
Ramona Reid Clarissa Rader
Mike Ives Ron Hartman
Andrew Colgrey Cole Foldress
and Savanna White
whose accounts of the affair aided in filling in those moments which were previously left secret to me, and allowed me, now, to provide a complete narrative of the incident of 'Straight Arrow Heart'.
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