View Comments One evening in about 1957 I was sitting next to my father in the darkened Phoenix Union High School auditorium, where the Phoenix Symphony Orchestra was in the opening movement of, I believe, a Beethoven piece. It was about five minutes into the performance but latecomers had since the beginning been scurrying to their seats when suddenly the house lights came on, the music stopped and an elderly, white haired woman strode purposefully onto the stage. My father uttered a low laugh, shook his head, and whispered, “That’s Mrs. Linde and it’s going to get hot!” Mrs. Linde spoke without a microphone.