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The Unknown Saviour
The County has certainly had its share of the spotlight over the past few years, but it could soon be taking more bows—on Broadway, no less.
The County forms the backdrop of a new musical being conceived by Toronto resident Gillian Spigott. The play, tentatively titled The Unknown Saviour is based on Spigott’s recent real-life adventure.
Spigott is the maid of honour at her best friend’s forthcoming County wedding. The bride-to-be and Spigott, along with four other bridesmaids, rented a car in Toronto last week to take a day-long wine tasting trip to celebrate the forthcoming event and select the libation of choice for the reception. Things went well all day, until, well, I’ll let Ms. Spigott take it from here:
“We had tried so hard to be careful; we weren’t going fast. I should know: I was the designated driver. But on the way home, somewhere between Hucyk’s Point Road and Rose Hall we ran into whiteout conditions, and the next thing you know we were in the ditch. None of us had really warm coats on and it was getting dark. We were staring to panic. I didn’t want anything to go wrong on my watch. Yet here we were.
“About five minutes after we got stuck— it seemed like it was half an hour—this truck comes along and sees our flashing lights. So the driver stops.
“He has some rope in his truck and he ties it first to our rental car and then to the truck. Then he guns the truck and pulls our car out of the ditch. It only takes him a couple of minutes.
“And then, just like that, he is off again.
He doesn’t introduce himself and won’t take any money from us. And we still don’t know who he is.”
Perhaps we can help. How would you describe him? “Burly. Either wore a beard or hadn’t shaved for a while. Wasn’t wearing a suit; more like the sort of clothes your would wear if you worked outdoors.” Okay, that narrows it down a bit. What kind of truck was it? “I don’t know: it was just a truck. They all look the same to me. And remember, it was getting dark.” Well, maybe he’s going to have to stay unknown.
Spigott wants to make the actions of the unknown saviour the focal point of her new play. Inspired by the musical Come From Away, she wants to create a work that celebrates the generosity of spirit of County residents. She is planning a multi-actor production, with roles for the six women and the truck driver; as well as the mayor, the local councillor, and a busload of nearby residents cast as extras. And there’ll be lots of music. “This could be another Lion King,” she gushes. “Especially if we could get Sting to play the truck driver.”
Spigott hopes that a workshopped version of the play will be ready for the wedding reception, with a move to the Toronto big stage in 2020, and a possible New York engagement the following year.
For some reason, folks in the County haven’t yet warmed up to the story—if they’ve heard about it at all. “That truck driver was just doing a common County courtesy,” said one customer at a local diner. “Why should I bother going to see a song and dance about it?” Said another: “I don’t get it. Now if the bride had fallen in love with the truck driver and realized that it wasn’t really true love between her and her fiancé, or if one of the bridesmaids had gone into premature labour; then you might be on to something.”
But Spigott will not be deterred. “People will pay to see a feel-good story. And put yourself in our predicament. We didn’t know when the truck was going to come along; and if he would stop; and if he would help us; and if he could pull us out successfully. How do you locals put up with all that stress all winter long?”
Spigott doesn’t know the half of it. I’ve heard tell of people who’ve suffered the same fate, in the same area, who have abandoned their vehicle and shown up unannounced on the nearest doorstep. Their unsuspecting hosts have opened up their home to them, warmed them, dried them, fed them and put them up for the night. But that’s all part and parcel of being a resident of the County—no musicals necessary.
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