The Power of a Towel

Auston Henderson and me at the stage door after Hamilton, holding the towel I made for him (February 2025)

It all started because I just wanted to say, thank you.

I was still new to the whole Broadway thing, but had fallen in love instantly. Given my passion for a good story, I still wonder why it took me so long to discover it—but that’s a tale for another post.

One afternoon, I was perched on a short wall—not too close, but close enough—near the stage door. It was between shows on a Saturday or Sunday, and a few backstage crew members were outside, taking a smoke break and enjoying their downtime.

That’s when Roxy walked over, introduced herself and Christine, and struck up a conversation. They’d noticed me hovering around the stage door at other shows and were curious. When I confessed that I was hoping to meet a certain Newsie currently in the cast, Roxy grinned and said, “I can get you that autograph.”

I swear my heart skipped a beat. My jaw dropped, my eyes went wide—was she serious?

Turns out, Roxy and Christine were part of the wardrobe crew at the Peace Center. They dressed actors before the show, pulled off lightning-fast costume changes throughout the show, and then reset every costume afterward. Roxy was assigned to the very actor I hoped to meet. And sure enough—she followed through. She brought me a signed program. I had an autograph from a real, live Newsie! I was completely over the moon!

As we chatted, I learned more about their world. Backstage is a whirlwind: cast members rush on and off, sometimes with only seconds to spare. The wardrobe crew keeps it all running—steady hands in controlled chaos. They told me how sweaty things can get (literally). Towels are essential, but with everyone using the same plain ones, they sometimes skipped wiping down for fear of grabbing the wrong towel.

Without thinking, I blurted out: “I can make towels with your name on them!” (I had just gotten an embroidery machine and was still fumbling my way through learning it.)

They loved the idea, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Soon I met more of the crew—Teka and Angie—and started stitching towels for them too. At first, they were simple: names in plain fonts on kitchen towels from Walmart. But with each show, my skills grew, and I soon started designing towels to match the productions, challenging myself to make each one unique.

What began as a simple thank-you became a circle of gratitude. They helped me get autographs and meet actors, so I thanked them with towels. Because I made them towels, they helped me connect with more actors. And so it goes.

Today, I make extra towels for Teka to add to the gift baskets she makes for the actors and touring crew she works with. I also make them for the actors who chat with me after the shows. Some have been Newsies, and their towels get a little bonus stitching: #newsiesforever is always embroidered on the other end of their towel.

The reactions always surprise and delight me. Some actors use their towels to remove stage makeup, relieved to have their names embroidered so they’ll actually get them back. Others lay them out as placemats, staking claim to their backstage spot. My favorite reaction? Hamilton’s A.D. Weaver, a commanding and formidable George Washington, told me he was going to frame his towel.

When I protested (“It’s meant to be used!”), he refused. “It’s a testament,” he declared. Apparently, he had never received a fan gift before, which totally floored me. So, I compromised: I made him a second towel—one for him to frame, and one he was under strict orders to actually use.

That moment stuck with me.

Because here’s the truth: you should never underestimate the power of something simple. Five minutes of an actor’s time can create memories that I will cherish forever. And a simple towel, stitched with their name, can mean just as much to them. Neither costs much money or effort, but both ripple outward in ways you can’t always see—leaving behind joy, gratitude, and connection.

The power of a towel, indeed.

What about you—have you ever given (or received) a small gift that turned out to mean so much more than you expected? I’d love to hear your story in the comments.