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Lincoln Simoni '91

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Sarkis Halajian, Nina Machus, Jessie Sinclair, Fred Bellinger, Katie Lorts, Janet Kapala, Chuck Geroux

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Top: Sarkis Halajian, Katie Lorts

Bottom: Fred Bellinger, Jessie Sinclair, Chuck Geroux

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Halajian Lorts Bellinger Sinclair Geroux

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Clarion article

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First day of Brookside

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Performing arts faculty on the "surrey with the fringe on top"

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Leader of the Pack

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Dr geroux at his anniversary party from Brigid

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At the PAC, Circa 1974

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Brigid and Chuck Geroux coo over former student Wade Jackson's daughter Ashling

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Sent by Wade Jackson '86

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Brigid Doc and Wade Jackson's daughter Ashling

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Psalm 152 from Charles and Brigid Geroux

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Psalm 152 from Charles and Brigid Geroux

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Chuck Geroux, Peter Goldberg and Wade Jackson confer over Brigadoon production notes, spring 86

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Eccentric Chuck Geroux Peter Goldberg Wade Jackson 86 Brigadoon

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Brigid and Doc

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Here are a few of my souvenirs from my days in Ergasterion, learning the craft from Dr. Geroux. He was an inspiration, a mentor, a friend, and someone who made you want to be as big of a theatre junkie as he was. And that's what I became. He and Jessie Sinclair sketched me a map for my future, and I gladly followed it. Theatre at Northwestern U. Performance Studies at NYU. All because of those two very special people. Although I didn't stay in touch, I never forgot them. Thank you Dr. Geroux.

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I was lucky enough to have been part of the cast in numerous productions between 1970 and 1973, even though I had very little talent!

Dr. Geroux appreciated that I could learn lines easily and had good projection and often said so in a positive and encouraging way.

I never participated in theatre after Kingswood, however the skills and confidence I learned in those productions helped later on when I was doing corporate training.

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Make a gift to the Sinclair Geroux Legacy Fund

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Make a gift to the Sinclair Geroux Legacy Fund

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The Jessica Sinclair and Charles Geroux Legacy Fund for the Arts

Honoring Two Legends:

The goal is for this fund o be permanently endowed by Reunion 2024 in June. Click here for more information: https://schools.cranbrook.edu/giving/the-sinclair-and-geroux-legacy-fund

This fund will serve to enhance our performing arts programs at Cranbrook Schools, engaging students with accomplished actors, musicians, and dancers from a wide range of disciplines. Allowing artists to perform, share, teach and interact with students will enrich and strengthen all of the arts programs at the schools and expose students to innovative work and groundbreaking formats.

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Thoughts at Chuck Geroux’s Retirement 1995

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Thoughts at Chuck Geroux’s Retirement 1995

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Dr. Geroux arrives at Cranbrook...

All the students involved with theater at Cranbrook were concerned about the change of guard. By lavishing the entire budget on a few productions each year, by casting from a small group of students who had begun to accumulate a fair bit of acting experience, and by emphasizing the avant-garde, the program did have something of a reputation. Of course we students knew that the quality vastly exceeded that of an average high-school theater program—as judged by us, we were doing “nearly professional” work. (I later learned that the quality of their own efforts is judged so by nearly all high-school thespians, but I suppose we were, in fact, putting on some pretty good, and pretty challenging shows.) And now it was all about to come apart.

Fact is, it was becoming increasingly difficult to continue, anyway: “stars” were graduating, budgets were strained, orchestral music had withered to the point where the spring musical relied mostly on hired musicians, with just a scattering of students. There wasn’t really anyone who knew much about the technical theater anymore. But the final blow was certainly that we were losing our directors, and the “new guy” was rumored to have some very different ideas about what a high-school theater program was supposed to be about. A high-school theater program? That was the last thing we wanted.

So, from the moment he arrived, Chuck Geroux had some nearly insurmountable obstacles to overcome. And some of them, we students were determined, would be of our own making. My main concern was that the sands were shifting just as I was getting involved in the “artsy” group. Would I still be able to spend countless all-nighters building and painting stages, installing lighting, and doing all those things that give an adolescent a sense of belonging and involvement, as well as the suspicion that he is being taken advantage of?

Chuck won me over immediately. I don’t think many can resist his infectious enthusiasm, his obvious good will, his cornball humor. But what was most important to me was that he knew so much about the technical theater, and was willing to teach me, and then to rely on me to get things done.

In those first few months of working together much of the emphasis was on traditional, and cheaper ways of doing things. No one then at Cranbrook knew that you were supposed to paint flats with washable colors so that they could be reused more easily—we had been using dime-store latex. We embarked on a campaign of building standard platforms that could be assembled quickly into many configurations. (This replaced our stick construction methods which were very expensive and time-consuming.)

We had been using the tape that athletes use to wrap ankles to cover the gaps in the set floor. I went to our usual supplier (the athletic trainer nearby), got a few dozen rolls of tape and applied them to our latest effort. I remember Chuck’s reaction very clearly. He wasn’t angry; he didn’t chew anyone out. What he conveyed was a sense of utter bewilderment. It was a mid-westerner's outrage at unnecessary extravagance.

I asked what you were supposed to do instead, and he explained how to rip muslin left over from the construction of flats into long strips, dip the strips into paste, and apply these to whatever gaps needed patching up. “Oh,” I said. This was, of course, not only less expensive, but was much more effective than athletic tape.

In part, the efforts to control cost were just frugality for its own sake, and its own reward, I suppose. But there was a larger plan too. Chuck was determined to make performing arts experience available to a far greater number of students, and he had to do so on a fixed budget.

So the older students’ anxiety about the dismantling of our “high-quality” theater program was completely appropriate and well-founded: From the very first year of Chuck’s tenure we had many productions rather than a few. Even in that first year, we had productions mounted completely by students. We had some students who were better actors than others, but no core of superstars who got all the parts—there was simply so much going on that there were lots of parts available to first-time auditioners. And we were learning some real technique. What a change for the better.

It took longer to turn the music program around. There were always pockets of excellence, but, as with theater arts at the time Chuck arrived, the involvement was limited to a handful of students. I remember visiting with Chuck a year or two after I graduated, and hearing about all the music groups that had been started, about the number of students that were somehow involved in making music. Mirabile dictu, as Bob Hoffman would say, we don’t have to hire professional musicians to have a spring musical, anymore!

Chuck is a very fine teacher. The thorough grounding in Elizabethan theater, and in its antecedents, made Shakespeare comprehensible in a way that it could never be without this background. His courses were lively, yet academic and scholarly in the best sense of those words: They are true archetypes of college preparatory work.

Nevertheless, I think Cranbrook owes Chuck a far greater debt for his managerial and administrative skills as head of the Performing Arts Department. It is terribly difficult work: there is constant begging to be done to get the resources necessary for success and there is the constant demand on leadership skills to marshal enthusiasm and cajole students into participating. It is a job few people can do well. Chuck was fabulously successful at building a program that provided opportunity for any student who had an interest. It is an enduring legacy.

I was a student who was provided an opportunity. Which brings me to the great debt I owe to Chuck: He developed my taste for teamwork. He was always a leader; he never tried to be one of the students. But he worked alongside of us completely egolessly. He demonstrated to me how good it feels to work hard, especially when the endeavor is by a group of people all working toward the same end. That sense of being involved in something larger than yourself, of not needing to compete with your fellows. The feeling that every team member has status, even glory, because of his or her involvement with the team.

There are many groups of people who work toward common ends, but who never discover the egoless, organic way of working together that makes them a team. I have looked diligently for such situations throughout the twenty-five years that have passed since I first worked with Chuck—and I now know that they are rare circumstances, indeed.

Thanks for letting me be a part of the team, Chuck.

Ted Sharpe

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Remembrances of Chuck Geroux for Cranbrook Reunion 2024

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Remembrances of Chuck Geroux for Cranbrook Reunion 2024

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Chuck as Teacher

I’ve only realized in retrospect what a patient teacher Chuck was. One assignment we had in Shakespeare class was to memorize a sonnet of our choice, and present it orally before the class. Of course we were all pretty bad. Most of us just ignored the meter altogether, but I think there were a few of us that did some sort of sing-song as if we were reading a limerick. But that’s not altogether surprising in a group of high school students. What is nice to remember is that this man, who had an appreciation for iambic pentameter that was to him as natural as breathing, applauded our every effort. He didn’t correct or complain. He was genuinely appreciative of our meager efforts.

Many years later I visited Chuck and Brigie in Wisconsin. At the dinner table I recited the sonnet I had memorized so many years earlier. There were a few garbled lines, and I still had no real feel for the meter. But they were both delighted. “The marvel is not that the bear dances well, but that the bear dances at all.”

Chuck as Theater Director

Chuck was generous personally, and this extended into the theater. The productions were our productions—it was never about Chuck. For the student-led productions he offered support and guidance, but stood back and let us mount whatever cockamamie thing we could dream up. He demonstrated great generosity in our “big” productions as well. Especially as regards the technical theater, he delegated enormous responsibility to his set crew, costumers, light and sound crew, and others. We were stretched, and stretch we did for him. His skill as an administrator won us the privilege of taking on large responsibilities in the theater in lieu of organized team sports, which had previously been mandatory and severely limited the amount of time we could dedicate to performing arts. Who lets a high school kid build patch boards, run wire for new electrical circuits, re-purpose ancient rheostats to gain a few extra dimmers, or paint the entire backstage area black?

I was discussing Erg with some more senior alums at my 50th reunion, and immodestly mentioned that I had been Erg president my senior year. He asked me what my major roles were. I explained that I didn’t do much acting, but I had built many sets, hung many lights, had run light and sound boards, and had acted as stage manager on many productions. He said, “I didn’t know you could be Erg president for doing just that.” Later I realized that before Chuck’s arrival, it would, indeed, have been inconceivable.

I remember Chuck conducting an audition. He asked the aspiring actor, “Do you act?” “Yes!”, was the reply. “Do you sing?” “Uh, yes.”, was the reply. “Do you dance?” “Um, no, not really.” Chuck said, “There’s only one correct answer to the question, and that’s an enthusiastic ‘Yes, I can dance!’ It’s my job, not yours, to decide how well.”

Here’s a silly aside: Chuck once took me aside and said, “I think we need to lighten things up around here. How about if you call me ‘Mr. G.’” I dutifully, but skeptically, reported his wish to my peers. I don’t remember if that ever caught on or not.

Chuck as Friend

During my time at Cranbrook, Chuck and Brigie were a second set of parents to me. Except that these were the parents you’d want to have if you could choose, rather than the ones you were assigned at birth. Sophisticated, worldly, and so erudite, but never stuffy. And generous: with time, with praise, and with encouragement.

I remember many afternoons playing table hockey and enjoying Brigie’s delicious pizza. I remember a pancake breakfast, cooked on a Coleman stove by the Zeus statue.

I remember throwing a football around over near the weaving studio. I led Chuck a bit too much on his down-and-out pattern. The result was a broken collarbone. Honestly, I’ve never forgiven myself.

Anyone who met Chuck will know he had a wonderful speaking voice. It won’t be a surprise to learn that he had a wonderful singing voice, as well. He also played a mean finger-picked banjo. His choice of repertoire was, at times, a bit suspect. The lyrics, in their entirety, of one of his favorite tunes follow:

Helen Brown.

Helen Brown.

She may look good in purple,

But she looks like Helen Brown.

Chuck and Brigie have been close friends ever since Cranbrook. I rejoiced in the birth of their daughter—a miracle child. There were so many treasured telephone conversations with them over the years, and altogether too little time together.

Did you know that Chuck was an expert fly fisherman? He took me out on his boyhood waters—a little oxbow lake in Wisconsin. He tried to help me to cast correctly: “Not your arm. Just a flick of the wrist. Ten o’clock to two o’clock.” It was better when he just demonstrated. He’d cast his plug just onto the edge of a lily pad, and with a light twitch let the lure fall into the water. It drove the bass mad. No strike? He’d pick up his line and cast to the next lily pad a few inches away. It was utterly masterful.

I admired Chuck more than I can ever express. I miss him terribly.

Ted Sharpe

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Obituary for Charles Lester Geroux | Lenmark Gomsrud Linn Funeral & Cremation Services

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Charles l. Geroux, died on Sunday, June 4, 2023 at his residence.

Charles Lester Geroux was born July 11, 1936, in Eau Claire, WI to Clara (O'Brien) Geroux and Charles Jerome Geroux. He attended St. Patrick's grade and high school and was in the first graduating class of Regis High School in 1954 where he was student body president. He received his B.A. in music from St. John's University in Collegeville, MN, his M.A. in theatre from St. Louis University and his Ph.D. in theatre from Wayne State University where he also acted in the repertory company. His teaching/directing career spanned almost forty years and included Clarke College in Dubuque, IA, the University if Detroit, and Cranbrook Schools in Bloomfield Hills, MI, where he was chairman of the Performing Arts (music, theatre, and dance) for 29 years. A skilled actor and director, he inspired innumerable students who later chose lifetime careers in the theatre arts. Many attribute their success to his influence.

Commissioned a 2nd lieutenant at St. John's in ROTC, he did active duty at Fort Leonardwood, MO, For Benning, GA, and Fort Belvoir, VA, where he became MOS qualified as an engineer officer and was promoted to Captain. He served six years as the S-4 for the 389th Eng. Bn.

Chuck directed and designed more than 150 plays over the course of his career. He was the recipient of many awards: several times named as outstanding actor, outstanding graduate assistant, and twice received the Alumni Appreciation Award at Cranbrook Schools. Some of his most memorable roles in acting were Shylock, Willie Loman, Sir Francis Chesney, Sir Anthony Absolute, Snout the tinker, and Pope Urban in the world premiere of Eric Bently's "Galileo Galilei." He also did opera, singing leading roles in "Lucia," "Faust," and "The Saint of Bleeker Street." In 1999 he retired from teaching and moved back to Eau Claire. He wrote an original musical ("Get the lead Out") for the city of Dubuque, IA, in 1976, the bicentennial, which played for one month to a 103% capacity. Its popularity caused the Orpheum Theatre to be saved from demolition and incorporated into the city-wide urban renewal.

His travels included a USO tour to Europe with his students from Clarke College, extended stays in Ireland, France, and elsewhere in Europe, and extensive travel within the U.S., including a summer course in canoe building at the Wooden Boat School in Maine.

Chuck was also active in parish work. He directed the choir at St. Raphael's Cathedral in Dubuque, gave lector-training workshops for the Diocese of Detroit, and brought Eucharist to the homebound in Michigan and here at St. Olaf's and St. James. He also worked with marginal youth at the Boys' Club of America when he lived in Dubuque.

Chuck was a devoted husband to his wife, Brigid, a loving father to their daughter, Ellen (Carsten) Voecker, a proud grandfather of Lucas, his grand-son. He was a loyal brother to his sisters, Clare Whelihan and Mary Margaret (Suz) Bartosh, and an affectionate uncle to their children. He was a distinguished scholar, yet he was equally at ease talking about how to make onion soup or how to improve a golf swing. He was a kind man, a generous spirit, an endlessly interesting person, with a marvelous wit, a beautiful resonant voice and a ready smile. He loved being a father, Shakespeare, bass fishing, golf, visits from his former students, babies, canoe repair, crisp waffles, playing his banjo and uke, fixing almost anything, and rooting for the Red Wings and the Packers. His pastor in Michigan described Chuck well: "Chuck is a gentleman's gentleman. He combines intelligence with the common man, and that's hard to do. The common man usually can't pull it off." Charles Geroux was an extraordinary witness to the qualities of honesty, authenticity, hospitality and goodness. Fortunate are those of us who were privileged to share his world.

Memorial gifts may be sent to www.mercyships.org/get-involved/

Heartfelt thanks to Dr. Anton Kidess and the nursing staff at HSHS for their compassionate and exceptional care.

Mass of Christian Burial will be held at 11:30am Tuesday, June 13, 2023 at St. James the Greater Catholic Church, 2502 11th Street in Eau Claire, with Father Tom Krieg officiating. Visitation will be at 10:30am up until the time of Mass at the church. Inurnment will be at Rest Haven Cemetery at a later date.

Lenmark-Gomsrud-Linn Funeral and Cremation Services, Eau Claire is assisting the family. Online condolences may be shared at www.lenmarkfh.com.

To send flowers to the family, please visit our floral store.

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lenmark gomsrud linn funeral & cremation services west chapel

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Lenmark Gomsrud Linn Funeral & Cremation Services

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Obituary for Charles Lester Geroux | Lenmark Gomsrud Linn Funeral & Cremation Services

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Charles l. Geroux, died on Sunday, June 4, 2023 at his residence. Charles Lester Geroux was born July 11, 1936, in Eau Claire, WI to Clara (O'Brien) Geroux and Charles Jerome Geroux. He attended St. Patrick's grade and high school and was in the first graduating class of Regis High School in 1954 where he was student body president.

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It truly was climbing up to Heaven to have class with Dr. Giroux. As far as I was concerned he had the voice of Orson Wells, the elegance of Fred Astaire, the aplomb of Sir Laurence Olivier plus that beautifully clipped and resplendent beard. Dr. G. literally defined theatrical for me—that magnificent, stentorian voice booming from the top the staircase.   As a teacher, he was generous, responsive, with an uncanny ability to rouse me from late afternoon somnambulence. (“Quit lallygagging!”) A master of every theatrical art-I still see his set designs for Pinafore and Guys and Dolls—he was above all else nurturer of talent— and I was at Kingswood/Cranbrook at the same time as some remarkably talented people: Kelly Pino, Douglas Sills,  B. David Green, Dan Kanter, Emily Manhart, Mary Lou Geiger, David Brown, Cathy Geiger, Karin Hartmann, Bill Prady, Ken Schneyer and so many others.  Astoundingly gifted himself, he possessed the rarest gift of all: giving others the ability to find joy and in the process, find themselves. A rare man and superb teacher. He’s always stayed with me. With heartfelt thanks and appreciation, Cindy Adelman Frank, ’78