In early 1940, a young Belgian girl named Thérèse “Treska” Gevaert was just 15 years old and enjoying the largely carefree existence of a teenager. But the storm clouds of war were on the horizon and the next four years would upend everything that young girl knew - and set her life on a course of hardships, adventures, and challenges difficult to imagine today.

Her incredible journey – which ultimately took her from her birthplace in Belgium to Flat Rock – would be the defining experience of her life and help shape Treska’s worldview

After staring at the burning match for a few seconds, Clarence began to drop his hand toward the pool of kerosene on the wooden floor.  He closed his eyes and whispered, “Forgive me, Mama.”  At that moment, he heard a loud meow. Startled, he spun on his heel and saw Squirt sitting on the counter next to the cash register; staring at him with an unsettling, judgmental expression.

Clarence considered Louise’s offer, not sure if he wanted to know the story about the strange apparitions who’d been appearing in the store. He’d been alive long enough to understand that sometimes not knowing was preferable to hearing the truth. His curiosity won out. “What did grandma tell you? Is this place haunted?”

Clarence stared intently at the man who had just asked to speak with his grandmother—an elderly woman who had passed away decades ago. Oddly enough, the stranger didn’t seem the least bit shaken when Clarence informed him that Antha Hood had been dead for 40 years. He simply nodded, as if considering the news, before beginning to walk slowly along the shelves on the far side of the store, clearly searching for something.

Clarence stared intently at the mysterious young man who had just broken into his store. Was he dangerous or just crazy? “Your name is Carl Sandburg? Are you related to old man Sandburg who used to live up the hill at Connemara?”

The stranger’s placid smile morphed into a sly grin. “Am I related?” He reached down to scratch Squirt’s head. Then looking back at Clarence, he answered, “I suppose I am.”

Virginia sat alone in the quiet of a late afternoon in Flat Rock. Her store, The Wrinkled Egg, was empty after a busy day and now the only sound was the soft rhythmic click of the clock hanging on the wall behind the cash register. The ticking of the clock echoed through the space and collected in an audible pool of time. Another day in Flat Rock had come and gone.

After ten very successful years as President of Kenmure Fights Cancer (KFC), Flat Rock resident Susan Bush will be turning over the reins to new leadership and embarking on a well-deserved “retirement”. To say that her tenure at KFC has been a success does not do justice to the profound impact she’s had on the organization and, in turn, the lives and health of area residents.

At the conclusion of every Flat Rock Playhouse musical, the actors take their bows and bask in the accolades of another appreciative audience. Then they turn and point to the upper left of the stage. Many patrons will not understand the meaning of this unusual gesture.  But located high above the stage in a compact room known as the band loft, a small but highly talented ensemble of musicians will know that they have made another magical night of musical theatre a reality.