A new documentary captures the essence of Peter Kohn
The Senator Theatre in Baltimore, Maryland, is one of those historic movie houses that has survived the onslaught of cineplex homogenization. As multiplexes with 25 screens sprout on urban street corners and in suburban strip malls across the nation, freestanding theaters from the 1930s and '40s—though few and far between—maintain a cult following in their communities, and the Senator is no exception. Favored sons of the Charm City, such as Barry Levinson and Edward Norton, have chosen to premiere their films at the Senator, and in late April another of Baltimore's own saw his name up on the marquee, spelled out in giant red letters: Keeper of the Kohn, starring Myron "Peter" Kohn.
Inside the Senator, a near-capacity crowd was just getting settled when the lights dimmed. Kohn—clad in a yellow cable-knit sweater, khakis, and docksiders and sporting a blue U.S. Lacrosse hat—had chosen a seat along the aisle, near the back of the theater. He was munching popcorn by the handful, but paused at the film's beginning when the words "Peter Kohn is a legendary figure in the sport of lacrosse" flashed on the screen. Turning to his right, he asked the person sitting next to him: "Am I?" Those two sentiments—the film's bold statement and Kohn's humble reaction— perfectly illustrate who Peter Kohn is and why we should care.
Believed to be autistic, Kohn has served as a field manager for lacrosse teams for more than half a century, the last 25 years of which have been spent on the sidelines at Middlebury. He is an extended family member for generations of Midd athletes, and for decades he has influenced their lives in ways they never could have imagined.
Tracing Kohn's last year as the Panthers' official manager in 2003, the film by David Gaynes beautifully captures the essence of Peter Kohn, a selfless person with a sharp mind and an uncanny tendency for offering profound sentiments at just the right moment. Originally, the documentary was intended to climax with the men's lacrosse team's attempt to win its fourth-consecutive national title (because it's a documentary, life intercedes, and several other story lines tug at the heart strings and serve as the film's true climax). As any Panther fan can tell you, Middlebury fell to Salisbury in overtime that year. Yet it was this heartbreaking loss that set up—in my mind, at least—the story's defining moment.
The scene has shifted from a post-game locker room full of sullen players with tear-stained faces to the interior of a chartered bus that has started to make the long trek back to campus from Baltimore. Kohn stands in the back, surrounded by players who, just hours before, had left their championship dreams—and, one would think, their hearts—on the turf of Ravens Stadium. But then a funny thing happens. Someone asks Kohn if he would lead the team in a singing of "I've Been Working on the Railroad"—a favored tradition among the players and their field manager. It's when these supposedly devastated 18–22-year-olds are belting out the song's chorus at the tops of their lungs, clapping with glee, that you realize all that Kohn has meant to Middlebury.
Thank you Jim Grube for bringing Peter to campus nearly 25 years ago. And thank you David Gaynes for bringing Peter's story to the world. —MJ
For more information on the film, please see www.keeperofthekohn.com.