Day of Dance: Remembering Hal Garvin

Today we celebrated Day of Dance for Heart across the nation. In DuBois, it means children and adults unite under a red heart banner to enjoy dance ensembles, ballerinas, lyricals, belly dancers, cloggers, and those who just like to move to the music. Put me in the latter category. I was there with my Zumba family. (That's me on the far left!)

I don't have what I would consider any innate athletic ability; I would characterize my moves less graceful and more, maybe, controlled, learned and deliberate. Like many girls growing up, I took dance lessons. Those lessons, combined with years of music instruction, makes dancing for health come a little easier to me. I've been taking or teaching some sort of aerobic dance since 1989. It's enjoyable, great exercise, mood-altering (for the good!), and I love the mental challenge of learning "the moves."

I have Hal Garvin to thank for that. Hal taught dance to girls and boys in the area for the better part of 3 decades. We took lessons at the old YMCA, where Hal and his partner George had a reel-to-reel and a decent sound system. We danced to old Broadway tunes and disco, and Hal chain-smoked the whole time. I was a little tap dancer. Shuffle, ball-change, thankyouverymuch.

In the spring, we got to choose which numbers we would like to perform. I was allowed to pick two or three. Oh, what deliberation for a 7-year-old! We ordered our costumes,which were always elaborately adorned with sequins, satin or feathers, and put on a show! Once, Hal fixed my broken tap shoe by taking a drag on his cigarette and using the glow to melt and reattach the plastic closure. I danced with Hal for 4 years.

After college I worked for a while as a reporter for the local paper, and I saw a flier for Hal Garvin School of Dance spring recital. It was to be his last. The years of smoking had caught up to him, I had heard, and he wasn't well. It was about that time that I learned that Hal's partner, was Hal's partner. That's a big statement for DuBois, Pa., in the 1970s.

So I did what any investigative journalist would do -- I called my Mom. Did she know Hal was gay when she sent me for lessons?

"Yes, I did," she said. "But it didn't matter. He was the best."

Ah, Mom. I love you. You are so wise and gentle.

I called up Hal Garvin and introduced myself as a former dance student, now reporter, interested in writing a feature article for an upcoming Sunday edition. Hal and George invited me to their home, which they called "Widdershins." Loosely interpreted, Widdershins means going again the norm, and as you look at it, it also reminds me of a word that might mean,"Greetings," or "Old Bones." I sat with my old teacher in his office.

"I remember you as a chubby girl," he said.

So his memory was still good.

Hal told me his life story. My recollection is that Hal performed on Broadway, and was quite respected. I saw stunning black and white photographs of Hal in his heyday. Indeed, a dancer's body. I was also surprised to learn that Hal and George made all of those costumes. There was the sewing machine and bolts-ful of sequins. I have dug high and low in my house to find the clip of the article I wrote -- had to have been the mid-90s. I cannot find anything online about Hal Garvin. I even tried to reach out to George at the studio where he works today, and sent an email to Hal's niece, so I'll keep trying. If anyone knows any more details, please comment.
But I do remember Hal said he came back home to Penfield to take care of a sick family member. And so, the Hal Garvin School of Dance began right here in rural Pennsylvania, with our own Broadway instructor.

Because of that, I hear the beat, and steps are easy to pick up on the fly. I have enjoyed paying it forward and sharing my love of dance with others. Dance settles my sometimes restless mind, and I have somewhat of a healthy body image... for being an old chubby girl.

And my life lessons from Hal, and from Mom, go a little deeper. Widdershins, everyone.