June, an ‘energetic specimen of humanity’

On a sad day in November, as if acceding to her beloved son Diego’s exhortation to let go, June Keithley left us. Sadder still, I never got to visit her as her place was out of the way.

We, the earliest batch of Repertory Philippines performers who had the privilege and pleasure of working with this energetic specimen of humanity, acted, danced and pranced on the small stage at the little auditorium atop the Insular Life Building in Makati.

Over 50 years ago (if memory serves correctly), she and I appeared together in a run of the famous play “The Importance of Being Ernest,” as young, aspiring thespians.

In one scene, June and I, who played the part of sweethearts, were supposed to kiss. Trouper that she was, she proceeded correctly while I was the proverbial shy one and, trained also to be a trouper, bumbled through!

Ours was the fourth in the usual Repertory season of five plays. It being Repertory’s maiden season, the late director Zenaida “Bibot” Amador went at me hammer and tongs from the very first scene, in her desire to instill in us a sense of professionalism. That I could readily appreciate, so I waged a strong battle against a wilting desire to quit. My reward was a juicy kiss of appreciation from La Amador after our last performance. Sweet of her!

What I found irritating, however, was the very egocentric behavior of an Amador buddy who deliberately positioned herself downstage so that whenever I had lines with her, she was positioned behind me and I had to deliver my lines facing away from the audience rather than toward the audience. Her way of being “professional.” That’s theater for you!

But June is the subject here, and I will always remember how she helped me through those trying moments during Repertory’s “Season One.”

June was christened “Ketley” by our then “prima comediana” Mitch Valdez. Ketley’s and our times in theater together will always be treasured memories.

So to you, esteemed colleague June Keithley, I bid, with a tearful salute, a fond farewell. No doubt you are now, as they say, in a much better place, a just reward for one whose living was one constant giving. Your fan here shall not be found wanting this time. I shall visit you at the memorial park.

 —BOBBY G. KRAUT,

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