The group stayed together--rehearsing lines, painting: sets, sewing costumes--during the depression and a World War. And, in the 40s, it was no small task casting a play that required young men. Later, the Guild gave benefit performances for flood relief programs and the March of Dimes. Membership drive parties at the Crystal Lake Country Club interested more and more people in the Theatre Guild.

As the 1950’s arrived there seemed to be only one thing the Guild lacked--a building to call its own. A building had long been the dream of the members but there was always that age-old problem--money.

Then one day in 1950, four members were sitting around a kitchen table drinking coffee and discussing "the problem." "What’s wrong with that old building around the corner?" someone suggested. There were loud groans because the building at 517 Summit Avenue was a dilapidated mess. The building had first been used as a private home and later housed the Suburban School of Music. Then it was used by a printing company and finally as sleeping quarters by two elderly men.

There was more talk and, slowly, enthusiasm spread. Guild members decided that fund-raising projects, donations and hard work would get them a home. They knew it wouldn’t be easy. They expected the renovation of the house to be a major project. What they didn’t expect was the outcry of protest from Webster Groves residents, who lived near the building.

Evidently, the old house on Summit had a racier past than anyone had imagined. Residents recalled when the building was a public dance hall and blaring music and noisy crowds kept them awake all night. They weren’t about to go through that again. A headline from a newspaper clipping dated May 3, 1951 reads:

The Webster Groves city council heard both sides of the theater debate in a heated round of meetings. The outcome? The city issued the Guild a permit to use the building as a theater with the agreement to observe stringent regulations as demanded by area residents.

Those regulations included no alcoholic beverages on the premises, no gambling, no carnivals or circuses and no activities past 10 p.m. except on the weekends. Oh yes, and no dancing on Sunday.

On June 20, 1951, the building belonged to the Guild. The battle seemed to be won. But when the new owners walked into their home, they found out the battle had just begun.

Nearly a foot of paper, dirt and debris littered the floors of the building, along with dead rats, insects and ashes. The odor was something no one wanted to talk about.

Plaster was falling, window panes were broken, and water had to be carried from a tap in the basement. There were no lights. An iron stove in the upstairs auditorium was the only heating system. The roof had to be replaced and the second floor had to be braced to support anticipated audiences. The whole project looked hopeless.

And then a strange thing happened.

People started to pitch in. Look at the photographs in the old scrapbooks and you’ll see men, women, [and] little kids carrying bushels of debris from the building and burning piles of trash.

And it wasn’t just Guild members. Professional plumbers, electricians and carpenters offered their services. The first bid for the new roof was $1,000. A roofing contractor in Webster replaced it for $200, the cost of materials. A welder from nearby Rock Hill helped Guild members put up steel beams to brace the second floor. Hardware companies, furniture stores, tile companies and a gravel and cement firm donated their wares.