I went to the scene of the slayings Tuesday afternoon. I’d been there several times before to enjoy funny, engaging entertainment – but I quickly realized I was now visiting a memorial.

As I walked up to the theater’s entrance, the soft smell of burning candles and beautiful flowers was as strong as the community support they symbolized. Pictures were taped to the windows. Taken during happier times, the pictures showed the brightly lit faces of the three fallen performers. They were such a stark contrast to the miserable expressions of friends who walked through those doors to mourn inside with fellow theater members.

I remembered my last visit – when the theater was filled with smiling and excited faces ready to welcome me with anxious pride to the opening of their latest production. But now the theater was dark. The posters advertising past productions still lined the walls. Those posters once preserved happy memories from that little theater.

Those bright memories are now overshadowed by the darkness of the anger, pain and loss which the flowers outside represent.

The events of last Saturday didn’t exactly follow the script for the local theater group’s reunion picnic on a beautiful spring day. Now, after three of their closest friends were cut down by a madman’s rage, the Town & Gown Players will do what the people of Athens would expect from such a close-knit, talented theater organization: improvise.

Florence King has been a member of the theater outfit on stage and off for more than 20 years. One of the many close friends of the slain members, she said she couldn’t foresee an end to her beloved community theater group.

“He’s defiled our church,” she said of the killer. “But you don’t just go home and never do this again.”

King said moving on may be the best way to honor the deceased. After all, the Town & Gown Players may have had their hearts ripped out – but it won’t stop them from feeling their pulse.

“Being true theater people, the show must go on, so I have no doubt that we will continue the season,” King said.

“I think all of us feel it would be a real disservice to them if we didn’t go on,” King said. “But we’ll talk about it, and decide as a group what [the deceased] would have wanted.”

As another friend of the theater came to pay her respects by placing a vase of purple flowers at the scene, I talked to her about the loss. We agreed there was no way to understand what members of the company were feeling, but we both hoped the theater wouldn’t close its doors for good.

Then, before she turned to leave, she said, “Look at the lyrics to ‘There’s No Business Like Show Business.’ I think we know what they’ll do.”

So I did. There are several versions. The original, from “Annie Get Your Gun,” celebrates the “The costumes, the scenery, the makeup, the props / The audience that lifts you when you’re down.” It lauds the love of performance, the audience, the thrill of being onstage. It pokes fun at the fears of bad productions, empty seats and lack of money.

As it finishes with “There’s no people like show people / They smile when they are low,” it goes out on the repeated line, “Let’s go / On with the show!”

But another popular version included a line that hits close to home for Town& Gown:

“There’s no business like show business

Like no business I know

You get word before the show has started

your favorite uncle died at dawn,

Top of that, your pa and ma have parted

You’re broken-hearted, but you go on.”

As a life-long amateur actor, I know what it means to be onstage in the lead role. It’s quite a rush. And looking back, it’s too bad I turned to sports simply because it was the cool thing to do. Of all the sports teams I was on, I never saw a group as close as a drama cast.

It’s hard to comprehend what the people of Town & Gown are going through right now. But I think I know what they’ll do next.

They’ll get up – and go on. Onstage, that is.

- Marc McAfee is a senior from Kennesaw majoring in broadcast news.