The last morning at Inge is a series of farewells and hugs in the lobby of the Apple Tree Inn. Vans driven by volunteers pull up and load up the passengers to go to Tulsa for early flights, and those of us who have later flights and have driven our own cars say goodbye with promises to keep in touch and come back next year.
My flight is a late one, so I get to have a leisurely checkout and find time to cram my latest collections of scripts and souvenirs and take a few more pictures. Then it’s off to the Inge house for a breakfast meeting of the Inge Festival national advisory board where we will submit names for next year’s honoree and look to the future of the festival and the year-round programs such as the playwright-in-residence and the outreach to the local schools and colleges. The house is the boyhood home of William Inge; it’s the place where Picnic takes place, and you can stand on the front porch and see what Inge was visualizing as he told the story of Madge, Hal, Flo, and Mrs. Potts.
I’ll post some pictures from the Festival when I get home; I’ve already packed my camera cable.