Nigel Alston column: The sense of the National Black Theatre Festival

Dreams are necessary to life.

— Anais Nin

I finally got it.

A few years ago there was talk about revitalizing downtown. As a lifelong resident, I have seen a few changes. For example, Fifth Street was once a one-way street; so was Fourth Street (in the opposite direction). A section of Trade Street at one time was a pedestrian mall (between Fourth and Fifth streets).

And then there were signs of change.

One day, both Fourth and Fifth were two-way. Flowers had been planted along the sidewalks, new restaurants opened, jazz in downtown and on Trade Street brought people out, and then there was Rock The Block. What had been talked about was now visible. It was real.

I had the same "I got it" feeling last week during the National Black Theatre Festival.

I love the festival. I really do. There is nothing better than attending performances night and day, sitting on my adopted front porch (a bench on Fourth Street in front of the Rush) smoking a cigar and talking to friends and engaging visitors. My wife and I did a lot of that last week.

I met an accountant from Columbia, S.C., visiting for the first time with his two young children. We exchanged business cards, and I made a few recommendations of plays to see. Each year I ask Sylvia Sprinkle-Hamlin which performances I should consider. I take that list of recommendations and map out my strategy for the week.

Another first-time visitor (a friend of Sylvia's) and librarian from Tallahassee, Fla., attended the gala before heading back home to jury duty. She is looking forward to returning in 2013 and bringing others with her.

I met a young man, who works at Wake Forest University, while he was standing in line with his mother to see "Knock Me A Kiss" (an outstanding performance, one of my favorites). We exchanged business cards too and plan to have lunch soon.

We met a woman and her friend from Philadelphia. "So, what have you seen?" I asked. We compared notes, laughed, and I thanked them for coming to our city. Sometimes, sitting on my front porch meant providing directions to a visitor who needed help.

We had a daily routine: Go downtown by noon, eat lunch, grab our front-row seats on Fourth Street and enjoy the afternoon meeting people and talking to friends. One person I know drove by almost daily. Like clockwork, we were in our space, waiving and having fun. We were unofficial downtown greeters.

I took plenty of pictures too, of people at various performance venues, a professor in his black sports car, a cool red truck, a hot dog vendor at work, a horse and carriage taking people around downtown, and of course the food we ate. The meals included a DC (Davie County) Burger with pimento cheese and sweet potato fries at Sweet Potatoes. A chicken salad melt sandwich at the Chop House; a BBQ chicken, onion and bacon pizza at The Mellow Mushroom; and crab cakes at Hutch and Harris.

Maybe that is why I was a little drowsy at a few performances. Some of my favorites included: "The Legend of Buster Neal" (simply powerful), "The Waiting Room" (funny and insightful), "Incognito" (diversity in action), "Three Sistahs," "da Kink in my Hair" (it was about more than hair), "Feet On The Ceiling," "Un-Ringing The Bell" and "Those Sensational Soulful 60's." Now, that was a fantastic way to end the week, on a high note and full of energy.

I have attended every festival except the very first one in 1989 (we were on vacation). Now, we take time off to experience it fully.

Sarah and I have served as volunteers. We saw Sylvia and Larry jump the broom (get married) in a downtown park years ago. We lived in the same apartment complex at one time, in the early days of the North Carolina Black Repertory Company. I have served on the fundraising committee with a great group of people and co-chaired it with our mayor. We have raised money, shared ideas, followed up on leads, encouraged people to support the festival and participated in its success.

It was at the gala, where legends were recognized and honored, that it hit me, the impact of this dream that the "Marvtastic" Larry Leon Hamlin birthed and his wife keeps alive. I could see the emotion on the faces of the honorees and hear the sincerity in their voices. It became more than just a festival.

Twenty-two years and 11 festivals later, I understood at a deeper level that the National Black Theatre Festival is truly an international celebration and reunion of spirit. We are The City of Arts and Innovation.

I got it.