I entered the theater excited to see the local theater production of "The Music Man."
The musical was well-done and colorful, and I found myself engrossed in it. By intermission, though, I noticed the thunder. Through the windows of what had once been a church hall we saw white flashes of lightning nearby and eventually heard heavy rain pelting the roof. After we scattered for intermission, the building's power went out and we were left in darkness.
The allotted time for intermission came and went; still no lights. "The Music Man's" producer came out with a flashlight and apologized for the situation. He had contacted the local power company, which hoped to have power restored soon. He suggested a singalong to pass the time.
After "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" and "I've Been Working on the Railroad," we turned to show tunes.
Eventually the producer appeared again, offering us two options: They could cancel the show and give us tickets to come back, or they could proceed with the second act using whatever flashlights could be found.
With thunderous applause the audience chose the latter, and many brave souls exited into the storm in search of flashlights. They found an amazing number, from their vehicles, I suppose. And all those flashlights stayed trained on the stage in the hands of paying audience members through the entire second act, which the actors carried off with grace despite the unusual circumstances.
And so the show went on even though the lights went out.