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Friday, January 14, 2000
By Tony Norman
Chawley P. Williams sat in the middle of the second row, stage left of the O'Reilly Theater taking it all in. It was opening night for August Wilson's new play, "King Hedley II," and Chawley was back for a second serving, having seen it in a sneak preview days before.
The pomp and glamour surrounding his friend's meditation on the psychic unraveling of the old neighborhood filled Chawley with wonder and astonishment. He smiled when he heard phrases coming back at him from the stage years after he had whispered them to August. One man's gossip and braggadocio become another man's art if August Wilson is listening.
Eddie Gilbert's set was reminiscent of the grim places where Chawley and August grew up, but the opulent new playhouse surrounding it might as well have been a million miles from the Hill District.
The magic of the stage made it possible for the bejeweled and tuxedoed theater lovers who turned out for "Hedley's" maiden voyage to visit the scene of its central tragedy with impunity, knowing they'd get home unscathed 3 1/2 hours later. But none of this was a stumbling block for Chawley P. Williams.
Chawley knew the Hill District was a heartbeat and 10 blocks away. He's always felt he's represented the best and worst of his old corner. Born in Homestead 64 years ago and raised in the Hill and East Liberty, Chawley immediately understood why "King Hedley II" would transcend the glib sociological vanities that saddle most urban narratives. Chawley is King Hedley.
"This man, the character King Hedley, resonated so inside of me as the person I once was, that it was breathtaking," Chawley said of the title character, an ex-con played with menacing verisimilitude by the brilliant Tony Todd.
True to his calling as the inspiration for King Hedley, Chawley, who now lives in Chartiers City, has seen the world from the other side of prison bars. Like many who fought the law and lost, Chawley struggled with redefining himself for the better after leaving prison.
Addicted to drugs for 32 years, he's been clean for the last 16. Now the poet and social activist is working on an undergraduate degree in social work at the University of Pittsburgh. It's clear from talking to Chawley why Wilson modeled Hedley after him. He's one of the most lyrical speakers one could ever meet.
The first time Todd launched into one of his ferocious monologues, Chawley knew what was coming next. The actor may have had a different face, but his mannerisms, including the way he strolled across the stage in a coiled rage, were familiar.
"The anger he carried, the frustration at not being able to bring things to fruition, I know that," Chawley said. "Growing up without a father, the different men his mother dealt with, all sorts of parallels."
Wilson wanted to please his old friend by getting the character right. Chawley was pleased and deeply flattered. Chawley also knows that Hedley fits the profile of many other people and crosses many generations, but he feels a special claim.
"To see myself portrayed on stage is like having a chance to stand outside myself," he said. "It tied me in to a love of myself that I had never really known."
There is a pivotal scene near the end featuring blood and redemption that Chawley is particularly moved by.
"My liberation," he said, recalling the scene, "was me seeing me on that stage."
Tony Norman's email: tnorman@post-gazette.com