From the days that our founding fathers decided on a creative solution to move closer to the lifeblood of the railroad, to now, you can see that a creative thread runs through the tapestry of Tracy’s history.

And that thread weaves a virtual tapestry with “Tracy, Our Town, USA — 2006,” written by Evelyn Tolbert and performed by the Tracy Performing Arts Foundation. With its debut Friday night and performances through Sept. 24, we will be able to see history come to life onstage.

Each year since 2003, local folks have gotten together to portray events from our city’s founding to today’s recent history. The script is new each year.

This year’s show highlights the historic Lincoln Highway, which ran from San Francisco to New York, through Tracy. The openings of the Lolly Hansen Senior Center and McHenry Houses are showcased. There is a detour with a swing dance scene dedicated to Lee Dunn, who organized USO-style dances as a young man at the Tracy American Legion Hall and is in this year’s show.

Master of all trades Jack Elliott is leading the show. He is the executive director of “Tracy, Our Town, USA — 2006,” which is being performed cabaret style at the Tracy Community Center.

On another dramatic note, the “Wizard of Oz” was a resounding success for the Tracy Performing Arts Foundation and Tracy Civic Theatre. We broke our own attendance records and performed in record heat. When Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion all ran out of the theater during intermission, we were the proverbial cartoon, hitting the brick-oven of a wall of heat.

Opening night was precious, as there was a toddler who was crying before the curtain opened. She just wouldn’t be consoled until she got to see Dorothy, so she got a special trip “behind the scenes” to see her real American idol.

Some little girls dressed in Dorothy costumes for the show, and many pictures were taken with children and cast members after the show.

And two of us took the traditional “break-a-leg” wish a little too seriously. During technical rehearsal week right before opening, Anastasia Burns, the assistant director/actor, turned her ankle on the concrete steps of the theater. Still, she was a vision of loveliness and tears that sprung from pain, as she played the Good Queen Glinda, the Witch of the South.

And yours truly had a reminder of her first brush with theater in high school. I had been cast in my first speaking role, as a southern belle. I knew I could do the accent, but when my P.E. gymnastics coach asked me to join the team, I had to weigh my two options. Did I want to act or do gymnastics My excuse to the drama teacher was that I couldn’t master the accent.

Well, I always say that God has a funny sense of humor with me, because my gymnastics career ended when I fractured my ankle doing a dismount off the balance beam. Then I got to sell tickets to the play I would have been performing in while sitting in a real cast. And my first speaking role, after college, still ended up being a southern belle. When people asked me if I really was from the south, I had to laugh and say, “No, I’m a Yankee,” as I’m from Michigan.

In another recent funny but painful bit, my trick ankle went out the week before “Wizard of Oz” opened. Plus, I just happened to break my little toe, on the same foot, right before the final dress rehearsal. So when I went to the podiatrist to finally get my torn ligaments tended to, which have been that way since that fateful day in gymnastics, he was able to confirm the broken toe. So every night, I performed as the Cowardly Lion with the aid of Aleve, which helped me keep from using my cane to dance along the yellow brick road.

So if you happen to see me about town, you will see me in a different kind of cast. I usually joke about breaking a leg in a show, and having been cast by a director in a cast of characters, I’m wearing a cast — again.

In case you wonder why actors say “break a leg,” the saying originated in the 1920s. Some theorize that it all started with John Wilkes Booth, the actor who broke his leg while jumping to the stage after shooting President Abraham Lincoln in his box seat at the Ford Theatre in Washington, D.C.

Others think the phrase originated in the ballet, because the curtains hang from a rod called a “leg,” and you might wish the actors would break the legs with copious curtain calls.

My theory — and I’m sticking to it — is that actors are an extremely superstitious lot. You CAN’T say MacBeth backstage, as it will bring death and hideous misfortune to the show. You MUST say “the Scottish play.” Thus, actors tried to fool the demons who wished to trip them up, and said “break a leg” so the spirits would leave the actor alone.

So come down to see “Tracy, Our Town, USA — 2006” and give the actors your best wishes — to “break a leg!”

• Behind the Scenes is an occasional column by Deborah Littleton, who is founder and owner of a public relations/marketing, graphics and Web design company called Debographix. She can be reached at 629-2506 or This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it