Michael Ballam: Utah tenor's career comes full circle

They tried to compensate for the absences. Michael and Laurie exchanged journals through the mail. Ballam recorded lullabies and stories to play for his children. When the kids were old enough, he took them on the road with him one at a time, and during the summer the family traveled with him.

Laurie and the kids eventually moved to Logan in 1981, but Michael continued to live in New York or wherever there was a show. He lived in a city for six weeks, reintroduced himself to the family and flew off again to another production.

"I remember a bad night after a recital at the Kennedy Center," he says. "The crowd enjoyed the performance so much that security people had to take me to a car. I drove home to my apartment in Alexandria, and I laid there and just sobbed because I had no one there to share it with. I'm like anyone; my head is turned by applause. But it's shallow. It's not love. They don't know me. It was Christmastime. My children and wife were somewhere else."

Ballam might have gone on like this indefinitely, but the one thing that could stop him finally happened.

He had just flown from Alaska to Venezuela along with the rest of the cast for a production of "La Traviata," and Ballam began to lose his voice. "I felt something in my throat that I knew wasn't right. I made it through my next performance, but I started to panic." By the time he returned to New York, his voice was gone. At times, he had to write notes to communicate.

For eight months he sought the opinion of doctors around the country. Some thought he would never sing again; some thought he was dying; some wanted to do exploratory surgery; they all believed he had an infection.

Unable to sing for more than a year, he moved to Logan to be close to family and to consult doctors. His LDS ward eventually held a fast and a prayer meeting in his behalf, "the likes of which I have never seen. It was then I knew what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to give my talents back to the Lord. It was like Abraham's Mt. Moriah. You give up the thing that means the most to you."

A short time later, doctors discovered the source of his problem was a bone infection in his sinuses that was leaking down his throat and, in effect, cauterizing the vocal cords. With treatment, his voice returned "stronger and bigger and richer than it had been before. After that, I told the Lord, 'Whatever it is you want me to do, let me know.' "

For years his grandfather had been urging him to use his voice to help people, and now he saw a way, through hospitals and rest homes and, finally, the UFOC.

Within days after his voice was restored he heard of plans to raze the old Capitol Theater in Logan. Ballam saw it as his new calling in life.