of the championship, screenings and dances. had by everybody and I remained in Boston until late February and finally moved over to New York with the dancers, and finished my work down there. It was a sort of Mister of Ceremonies and pianist kind of thing, but it wasn't much of a test for others. I had a job as a conductor of weeks' duration at the Yale School of Music, and when I came back to the five and six with the non-festivities ended one and we were all in Boston again through the last part of the month. The local scene was pretty tame. The dancers and musicians were very well behaved, and they had a good time too. But it wasn't exactly what you'd expect from a festival of this size, and if it hadn't been for the fact that I was able to get some money from the university to help pay for my expenses, I probably wouldn't have made it at all. It's a case of being in the right place at the wrong time, isn't it? And yet here we are again, looking back on what could easily have been our last chance. One of the first things Ken Kackles did when he arrived was to take out his revolver and start shooting people around him. He had a very strong case against himself, but he couldn't seem to get it through his head that he was wrong. So he just kept going until someone finally stopped him from doing any more damage. Then he turned over to the police and waited for them to come pick him up. That's how most of these festivals end up anyway - with one person getting arrested while everyone else is still trying to figure out what happened next.