IVCC alum documents local theater legend’s personal, professional impact

Reid Tomasson had crossed paths with Jim Jewell often, but it was not until he read the writing on the wall that he imagined how he and the area theater legend could share a stage.

Last year, Tomasson began gathering footage and memories for his latest film project showcasing Jewell’s life and art, as well as his lasting influence on the Illinois Valley. The feature-length documentary carries an intriguing title: “Thank You Jim Jewell for the Use of Your Piano.”

Jewell died in 1994, long before Tomasson was born, so they never met. Yet their paths intersected notably at Illinois Valley Community College, where Jewell taught speech from 1968 to 1994. Tomasson, who graduated in 2021, said his parents relocated to the area when his dad, Cory, succeeded Jewell on the faculty.

“It is crazy to think about that we might not have moved here, and I would not have been at IVCC and Stage 212. I owe so much in my life to Jim, and I wanted to repay that,” Tomasson said.

Hooked on the power of storytelling since seeing the thriller “Jaws” as a boy, Tomasson commandeered the family camcorder to create horror, action or comedy films in his neighborhood. An IVCC film appreciation class introduced him to the fine points of lighting and sound, while a chance venture recording the college’s virtual stage productions in 2020 shaped his editing skills.

In 2023, Tomasson gathered up his Columbia College film and TV production degree and went to work as the production manager at La Salle’s Stage 212, where Jewell had performed, directed, served on the management board and eventually endowed the institution, which named the auditorium after him.

As a boy growing up performing with Stage 212, Tomasson knew the name but discovered when he read a plaque on the Wall of Honor that there was more to Jewell than an auditorium. He had written a play and a book.

Tomasson, who enjoys reading play scripts, borrowed a copy from Stage 212’s business manager, Natalie Smigel. Jewell’s image – as a performer and as a local hero – sharpened.

“So many things hit a chord for me and made me feel like there had to be more to his story. I realized a lot of people who knew Jim recalled he was one of their favorite people, but you didn’t hear about his life,” Tomasson said.

In 2024, as part of his quest to fill in the gaps, Tomasson restaged the one-man monologue that Jewell had debuted on La Salle’s stage decades earlier. “Milo Lookingale” stimulated awareness of the documentary project and uncapped sources of Jewell’s stories.

“What stood out in the stories is that people felt he was the best person in their lives – a charming beacon of happiness bringing other people up,“ Tomasson said. ”They counted him among their favorite teachers. Jim had been a face without a personality to me, someone I had only seen on a plaque. I am getting to know him. He lives through the stories.”

People keep presenting new memories of Jewell, tidbits they consider insignificant but that Tomasson hears as epic parts of the story.

“They have more to say than they think,” Tomasson said.

A documentary appealed to Tomasson, who had been looking for another film project after what he describes as a “low-budget guerilla comedy” in 2022. “I wanted to tell a real story, to change things up,” he said.

He partnered with local filmmakers and fellow IVCC graduates Tyler Amm, who provides creative and technical support; Zach Shaw, a cinematographer who presents a visionary eye behind the camera; and Griffin Tabor, a writer with a tenacity for research.

Tabor poured over newspaper articles and genealogy sites, tapping a rich archive that unveiled relatives and revealed that Jewell had written a well-respected history of Broadway’s Tony Awards. Theater program dedications over the years yielded links to classmates and college instructors.

Knowing that Jewell grew up in Indiana and was adopted, Tomasson had despaired of finding family until they discovered cousins who had grown up with Jewell. That meeting “turned up a flood of family photos and videos and gave our documentary more of a personal touch.”

Jewell was a prolific writer and newsletter editor, traveled widely to do etchings of memorial gravestones and – in pre-internet days – filed away articles about friends, students and colleagues because “he wanted to keep in touch and know about you. He was a champion of other people.”

Jewell’s one-man play – written at the height of the AIDS crisis, chronicling a man’s fears and frustrations as he watches his friends die – foreshadowed his own death.

Tomasson is progressing on the documentary, although no release date is set. He said the title is an inside joke among local theater people and refers to Jewell’s personal piano, which appeared in various productions. The piano became as famous as its owner and was credited often in theater programs and even a wedding program. A legend was born.

“The title is perfect. It sums up who Jim is and celebrates the people who are part of this production,” said Tomasson, who borrowed the piano from the Stage 212 lobby for his 2022 film. The appearance passed uncredited into history since Tomasson did not know the legend then, but Tomasson wants to ensure Jewell’s legacy does not vanish too.

“Jim had so many sides to life: teaching, writing, Stage 212, other organizations, the Indiana side. This is a chance to see all sides of him,” Tomasson said.