The Poster Memorabilia blog

A Battle to Meet America's Forefathers

One night at the Richard Rodgers, five signatures, and the roughest stage door on Broadway.

By an anonymous Hollywood insider

Just like how our forefathers fought to free our country from the British, I felt like getting their signatures was a hard-won battle. Let me add some context: when I watched Hamilton on Broadway, I had to endure a lot of pushing and shoving to get to the stage door. It was the hottest show on Earth, and those performers have since become legends. I couldn't miss the opportunity to get their autographs.

Acquiring the tickets alone was already a major victory, so you'd think I'd be satisfied with getting to see the show, right? Well, channeling the fabulous Angelica Schuyler: satisfied is exactly what I wasn't going to be. My friend got his hands on a copy of the iconic poster, and since we were already there, we decided to ask the stars to sign it. This is a thing on Broadway—stage performers usually meet with fans and sign autographs at what's called a stage door. But of course, Hamilton's stage door was different.

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I saw the show around the peak of its popularity, and at that point, the stage door was getting crazy. The stretch of West 46th Street outside the Richard Rodgers Theatre often got more crowded than Times Square, and it's a fairly big street as far as Broadway stage doors go. Eventually, it reached a point that the theater had to limit the number of fans in the area, making the stage door just as hot a ticket as the show itself.

This didn't faze me, though. I planned everything down to the wire to ensure I got a great spot by the theater's stage door. Some would say I even committed a grave sin: bucking out of the show 30 minutes before curtain call. The norm is about 15 to 20 minutes, but a whole half-hour? Looking back at it now, it was insane, but I didn't care. I figured I'd get another chance to watch it again years later, and it didn't hurt that they eventually released the entire show on Disney+.

What I didn't account for was how many people thought similarly. It wasn't exactly crowded, but a good number of people were already at the stage door by the time I got there. I still think most of them didn't even watch the show, but I had no time to care about that. All I was focused on was reaching the front row and, more importantly, getting my poster signed.

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When I got to a good spot, I figured the battle was won. But no, it hadn't even started. Remember the scene in Game of Thrones where Jon Snow stood alone and drew his sword against an entire cavalry in the “Battle of the Bastards” in season 6? That's how I and many of us early birds felt the moment we heard people marching toward the stage door.

It was utter pandemonium! Whether intentionally or not, I was pushed, shoved, and downright crushed as people assembled behind me. I have no doubt some of them were annoyed I got there first, but I certainly didn't think I deserved what was basically a physical assault. Luckily, my friend, whom I left to fend for himself, had the smarts to put the poster in a strong, cylindrical container. I'm sure it would've been torn to shreds had he not thought of it.

“It was as if the heavens were smiling down on me.”

The cast took a while before they finally went out, and by then, my lungs had already escaped the metal railings. Everything else below my waist was still crushed, but it didn’t matter. One by one, the performers approached me and signed my poster. Lin-Manuel Miranda, Phillipa Soo, Leslie Odom Jr., Renée Elise Goldsberry, Daveed Diggs. It was as if the heavens were smiling down on me.

Everything about that night was miraculous. It's a miracle I'm still alive, that I even got to watch the show at its peak, and of course, that I got an awesome autograph poster out of it.

Some things you watch. This one you keep.

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