I lied to get the job, and he knew it. August, 1983: my first week at Catawba, work-study assignments were going quickly, and though I’d seen sewing machines, I’d never actually run one. Still– how hard could ‘costume shop’ be? Down to the basement for gimlet-eyed scrutiny. Of course he knew. He knew everything. And yet– he took me on. I was one of four freshman assistants, and the only guy. Maybe I’d be handy lifting bolts of fabric.
