In early 1976, I went to see "27 Wagons Full of Cotton" at the old Playhouse on West 48th. Out came a pretty young actress. It was a nice few minutes but nothing out of the ordinary, I thought. As I watched, I became aware of smoke starting to waft through the theater. The actress continued until the smoke was so distracting that the audience was murmuring. The actors left the stage and the audience vacated the theater until the smoke from an air conditioning malfunction had cleared. The play started over again a half hour later. The actress started again. Everything about her performance was exactly the same but at the same time it was fresh, all new. Wow. I immediately dived into my program to find out whom I was watching. The name was unfamiliar. Meryl Streep, I thought, I'll be seeing more of her.