When I walked up to the box office at the Marquis Theatre in December of 2011 to pick up my tickets to see Follies, the gentleman at the window said, “Wow, you must know somebody to get these tickets.” I smiled and thanked him – all the while knowing that the reason I had such good seats was my friend Steve Sondheim.

Before I go too far, I’m keenly aware that I was one of Stephen Sondheim thousands of friends. There are certainly people who knew him better and more intimately. I was just surprised, humbled and thrilled that I could call this giant of musical theater Steve.

Since first discovering Sondheim and his music, I was familiar with his passion for puzzles and games. It made sense, at least to me, that he would therefore enjoy going to The Magic Castle. I was a member at the time, so I sent him a letter inviting him to join me coinciding with his making some appearances on the West Coast.

Mr. Sondheim’s response came via e-mail. “My time really isn’t my own,” he said of this upcoming trip. He did say that on another trip he’d love to revisit the club having only been once previously as Carl Ballantine’s guest. (Ballantine was a world-class magician, but many know him from his role as Lester Gruber on McHale’s Navy.)

It was unfortunate that he wouldn’t be available, but I held in my hand a golden ticket to future conversations: Stephen Sondheim’s e-mail.

As another event came up in early 2008, I reached out to Sondheim. He accepted my invitation and plans were made to go on Friday, January 13th. Joining us for lunch (on the only day when lunch is served there) would be Frank Rich, then of the New York Times, his wife, Alex Witchel and possibly Steve’s then-partner (now husband), Jeff Romley.

Jeff did not join us. In his place was playwright John Logan who would go on to win a Tony Award for his play, Red. He also adapted the Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler musical Sweeney Todd for film.

Mr. Sondheim immediately insisted I call him Steve when we met face-to-face. I couldn’t believe I was sitting across the table from the man who had written so many musicals I had loved. The three hours flew by quickly before Steve told me that had another appointment to get to at Barbra’s house.

I remained in contact with Steve. He invited me to his home on three occasions for wine and conversation. The first visit lasted over two hours. It was there that he asked me how I became familiar with his work.

As I usually do when asked about my passion for musical theater I responded by telling him it started when I saw A Chorus Line. Before I could finish the story he joked, “One of my best shows.” I told him that my aunt taking me to that musical opened up the world of musical theatre for me. But it was seeing Sweeney Todd in Los Angeles with Angela Lansbury and George Hearn that felt like finding religion.

He couldn’t have been more generous with his time on each of these occasions. He told me whenever I wanted to see one of his shows that all I had to do was reach out to him and he would make sure I could purchase house seats.

For over thirteen years I would send Steve a note here or there and he would respond. Like so many who have commented since his passing, I was so excited whenever there was a letter from Steve in the mail.

The last note I got from him was earlier this year. I had sent him a letter thanking him for his kindness and generosity over the years and to wish him a happy 91st birthday.

I concluded the letter by saying:

“It is my hope that when the world finally rights itself and we are able to travel and see people freely, that we will have the chance to see each other face-to-face. Not knowing when that will be, I wanted to make sure you know how grateful I am.”

In typical Sondheim fashion, I got a polite and to-the-point response from him. What stood out to me was, “As always.”

Last Friday was tough. I imagined, perhaps fantasized, that we would have one more conversation in person. Another glass of wine to be shared. Another letter in the mail.

Through his work and by virtue of who he was, Stephen Sondheim was “the god-damnd’est thing that has happened to me.”

Thank you my friend. The music and the memories will last me through the rest of my days.

Photo: Christian Witkin for The Wall Street Journal (Courtesy WSJ)

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