I have never lived in a more welcoming community than Winona, that I can remember. Wittenburg, WI seemed pretty welcoming when I was four and living there, but as the town had a population of probably 200 a welcoming nature seems natural to have followed. Winona is a big, beautiful, friendly place.
    I am an acting apprentice at the Great River Shakespeare Festival this summer. It is my first year with the festival and it is also my first summer stock job that's removed me from Wisconsin's Fox Valley. The first thing that really struck me was how friendly, and most importantly non-threatening, the company is. Even Adam, the company manager, was friendly with me after I broke his printer twice within the first five minutes of our knowing each other (once when the hand went up to shake, and again when it went down to fix the initial damage). After removing to the WSU campus I met the other acting apprentices, members of the acting company, our teacher and text coach Jack and his amazing wife Sarah, and everybody else. A group of apprentices decided to dine at a local Erbert's and Gerbert's and again I made a wonderful first impression by trying to leap over a railing only to miss the mark and face plant firmly into the concrete below, all in front a father and his two young children. I promptly popped up and explained to the children that such fool hardy activity as they had just witnessed would ultimately result in the painful conclusion that followed. Normally when a large, strange man ( I am 6'4", built like a house and had just face planted over a handicap railing in front of a sandwich shop) directly addresses a group of three to four year olds where I am from (Appleton, WI) the parents will nod and quickly usher their young charges a safe distance from the acrobatic Santa look alike. This father, however, looked at his kids and replied "He's right, don't do stupid things like that." It was at this moment I fell in love with your fair hamlet.
    I have been continually astounded by the level of community involvement that this festival not only encourages but participates in. Everything from College for Kids, the big Harry Potter book release event, our participation with Theater du Mississippi's Drops and Drama presentation (A wonderful show, with truly beautiful drops and phenomonal voice acting) or simply roaming the city passing out fliers, posters, chalking up your prestigious sidewalks with advertisements for our shows (Did you see them yet? As You Like It? Macbeth? Julius Caesar?) I have the chance to work with, meet and talk to an amazingly inviting, active and enthusiastic community. And here's the crazy part- people remember me. That might seem like a huge deal to a lot of people but at my school I swear you can pass the same group of 50 people a dozen times in one day and not know any of them. Sad. But here, I always get a friendly "Howdy do!" (Disclaimer: No one has actually said the words "Howdy do!" to me yet. Could you be the first?), "Hail Caesar!", or my personal favorite, "This is the guy who does the Christopher Walken impression!"
    I heard some one say earlier this summer, "It's amazing- to be able to visit a town you've never been to, and meet everyone you've ever known." That sentence has stuck with me this summer. I've never met a group of more complete strangers that has felt like, and become, such a great group of friends. Celia says in  As You Like It, "I like this place, and willingly could waste my time in it."  I would consider this the perfect Shakespeare quote for this summer if not for one thing: I never consider time with my friends time wasted. Thank you all.

Philip Zimmermann
GRSF Acting Apprentice Company

Allow me to start with an understatement. Winona is beautiful.

Every day I wake up and look out my window (which my face is usually pressed against thanks to the positioning of my bed) and see a horizon of bluffs drenched in the early morning light, a shimmering pond beneath reflecting their glory up at the sky which is consistantly azure. Granted, the weather will turn if an odd number of people sneeze, going from emaculate to tornadic in a matter of moments, but even the rain feels good here. It's like Stepford but without the hot robot women.

The apprentice company project has been announced and the winner is: Julius Caesar. I will be playing the part of Julius Caesar, the Roman general, leader, and self-proclaimed god alongside one of the finest groups of actors I have ever worked or lived with. On top of that I am understudying Corin, Duke Frederick, and Duke Senior in As You Like It. And on top of that I will be putting up tents, working in shops, getting my ass kicked by a yoga demon (A demon of greatness I have heard her referred to as) and spending my hard earned free time at Bowleoke, a word I just added to my dictionary. This place rocks.

Along with this beautiful place there is also Lanesboro, MN, a town of 800 where Chris Lysy almost got my ass killed. We decided to rent a canoe, a simple endeavor which was supposed to take us five miles down river. A two hour tour. Oh that I had been more observant of the teachings of Gilligan! Things were great for about a mile and then Chris, who was sitting up front, got nervous. This is normal, as we are not aquatic creatures by nature, oh no, and a boat is no natural place to find two actors by their lonesome. About a mile from our launch point we hit some rapids, not too large but they did rock the boat. And this is what made Chris nervous. He tried to compensate, left and right, to make the boat be still but he only accomplished in actually tipping the thing over. Now, I can swim, and if I may say I am a very able swimmer at that. Like the manatee I can call the water my home and not be bothered by many of the larger predators as I reek havoc on the krill population. But where we tipped over was in the middle of the goddamn rapids, and rapids for those of you playing at home are comprised of swiftly moving water and rocks. Lots and lots of pointy, jagged, hard rocks. So we tip over and the first thing I realize is that there is a strong.... very strong.... current and it seems to have taken a liking to throwing me against the aforementioned rocks. I am still holding my oar and am somehow able to stick it into bottom of the river (Granted it's only about a yard deep at this point) and get some sort of footing. This is not easy as our shoes, which we had kicked off into the canoe in order to launch it, are now several hundred yards down stream, riding the river to freedom. Chris has managed to get to a small island in the middle of the river and is extending his oar out to me and yelling in a very shrill and frightened voice for me to grab onto it. I have already been submerged once at this point (from the initial fall) and I think I have a good grasp of the situation. My oar starts to slip. I make a grab for it, lose my footing and the water hits me and says "NO!" and I get dragged under for a second time. I am starting to see the merits of letting go of the oar and grabbing onto Chris' on the bank as it is near enough still. I pop up, take in a deep breath and grab the oar letting mine go beneath me and we somehow pull me onto the shore.

I was in shock for about a minute. In retrospect, yes there was the serious possibility I could have drowned or gotten something broken on the rocks, the current was that strong and I was barefoot. As the shock wore off I began to laugh and looking at Chris recited "Help me Cassius, or Caesar sinks!". We both thought that was really funny and laughed until we realized we had to walk to the far point of the island. Looking down I took account of myself. Nothing broken, although I did realize I was bleeding from my right foot and my knee on that side was hurting mightily. Also, and this was hilarious to me, we were standing barefoot in a patch of poison ivy. I ask that you take a minute to laugh.

You good?

OK.

Long story short, we called out to our friend Julie who was in a Kayak and heard us go overboard. She ran and got help, the help came and waded us across the other side of the river and up a steep embankment where we jumped into the back of his pick up truck (or as we affectionately dubbed it, The Idiot Bucket) and made it back to Chris' car. We had no shoes, although one of my shoes was recovered with my oar about 50 yards downstream. It has since been saved as a Shrine of Shame in Chris' apartment. We spent some more time in Lanesboro. The town drunk called us idiots and a disgrace to humanity and assured us, despite our best hopes, that we were not to be the recipients of the Congressional Medal of Honor for Canoing. I had hoped to be the first to obtain that obscure and prestigious award. My dreams, like my bleeding and bruised foot, have been dashed on the rocks of that river.