“I was doing an outdoor concert in Reno a few years ago, and this man came up to the stage. He was trying to give me something. It was a really high platform, and Alfonso was there onstage with me, keeping an eye on things. You know, you don’t just take things from people in the audience. But this fellow said, ‘No, Kitty, you don’t realize. I’m ...’ He gave me his name, and I realized that it was the mean boy from across the street. Only now he was, you know, in his late thirties, a little overweight, losing his hair. Not scary in the least. I was this glamorous performer towering over him, and here he was, trying to give me a box of chocolates.”
And you talked with him about when you were children?
“I didn’t have much time, since I was finishing a festival show and the next act was coming on stage. But we did have a special moment. He knew what he had done all those years before. And he was there to apologize to me. It was clear that he wanted to heal the hurt he had caused.”
And what did you do?
“I forgave him, of course. It was very soulful. It was closure.”
One could wonder how much that fellow and the stones he threw had to do, somewhere deep inside Kitty Margolis’s heart, with the ultimate development of her very fine art.