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The Billie Mahoney Dancers have a repertoire of 20 basic dances, which they perform about three times a year. They're regulars at Senior Quest, a yearly event at the Overland Park Convention Center. Right now, they're gearing up for their next appearance, a five-minute demonstration for a dance workshop in Paola.
Five minutes of a workshop is but a blip in Billie's performance career. She worked in local nightclubs during the post-Pendergast years. She performed with Lionel Hampton at the Apollo Theater. She was summoned onstage by Gregory Hines at the Folly Theater's 100th anniversary — he dubbed her a "legend in tap dancing." She toured with Bob Hope and, as a drum majorette, led the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus into Madison Square Garden. She experienced Kansas City back when some clubs stayed open all night and attracted now-legendary jazz musicians.
But she and the troupe are excited for Paola, and with three and a half weeks to go, they're focusing on relearning their routine. The early efforts sound a little like a herd of horses clomping in a parade.
"Dance lightly," Billie says. "It's supposed to be a soft shoe."
She turns the volume of the CD player up as loud as it goes, but the women still strain to hear the music. After starting the song for another run-through, she stops when they get ahead of the beat.
"We can't hear it," calls out one of the dancers.
"Feel it," Billie commands. "You're not leaving that space" — the pauses between the steps, which need to be measured out.
"We're old and deaf," jokes another troupe member.
"Not quite," Billie says.
At her house in south Kansas City, Billie flips through a scrapbook that she put together to display at her 80th birthday party. The front of the white plastic binder reads: "Billie Mahoney. Dancing for more than 3/4 century!"
Her house has just been remodeled, so mementos are still strewn about. A living-room wall holds about 40 framed pictures in a precise grid pattern. The photos document her career highlights, such as a 1961 photo of her interviewing Chubby Checker. They were both taking part in a dance forum analyzing the twist. Nearby, on a side table, is a photo album from her 2006 trip to India. A brass iguana with scales made of blue lapis lazuli stone — a souvenir from her December trip to the Galápagos Islands — lounges on a half-ledge wall that separates her new kitchen from her office area.
As she goes through the scrapbook, she punctuates stories from the past with her crackling, rousing laugh. Some anecdotes bring her to tears, which come quickly and make her voice shake and squeak. When she describes a dance routine, her compact body demonstrates limber moves as she sits in place in her office chair.
Her hands sculpt the space around her when she talks, which is at a driving pace. She injects onomatopoetic noises into her descriptions for emphasis. When she talks about the first modern piece she danced in 1949, she makes a wrrroooooww sound, followed by a cat screech, to describe the atonal electronic music that accompanied the routine. "I didn't know what the heck was going on," she says.
On the first page in Billie's scrapbook is a short Kansas City Star article dated October 20, 1932. The headline reads: "The Baby Parade Presented A Galaxy of Prize Winners." The accompanying photo features five costumed kids. Five-year-old Billie is up front, gazing seriously at the camera. She's dressed in an iridescent one-piece that resembles a baggy swimsuit. Huge, gauzy butterfly wings sprout from her back. She won the "most attractively costumed baby" category and took home a small gold piece that was worth $5 or $20 — she can't remember which. Whatever the amount, it was a lot of money during the Depression. The third-place winner got a puppy — an injustice that made her cry.