Championship trophies are proudly displayed near the entrance while Hall of Fame banners honoring some of the school's icons, including former coach Cathy Rush, adorn the walls.

Powerhouses in this weekend's Final Four like UConn and South Carolina stand on the shoulders of schools like Immaculata, Queens College, Wayland Baptist and Delta State. During the early years of the women’s basketball poll that debuted in 1976, those programs set the foundation, dominating the now dissolved Association for Intercollegiate Athletics for Women (AIAW).

But during the 50 years of the women’s poll, those pioneering programs haven’t been able to sustain the dynasty-level success that shaped women’s hoops in the 1970s.

“You can look back and say, ‘Well, it’s been a few years since we won a national championship,’” said Delta State athletic director Mike Kinnison, who was a student when the school won consecutive national titles from 1975-1977. “And that’s true. But, you know, they don’t give those away. You don’t buy them at Walmart. You’ve got to earn them.”

The game has professionalized as money reshaped the sports landscape, and competitive advantages shifted to big schools with seemingly unlimited budgets when the NCAA took over the sport in 1982.

The Lady Statesmen were the first No. 1 team when the women’s basketball poll debuted 50 years ago. Wayland Baptist was second, Immaculata third and Queens ninth. Delta State will be recognized during “The AP Top 25 Fan Poll Experience” being held Thursday-Saturday at Arizona State’s First Amendment Forum in the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication.

The poll has served as a road map for the rise of the sport but a lot of things have happened since 1982.

“The whole landscape of NCAA and Division II has changed,” Kinnison said. “Women’s basketball has just exploded. And so it’s hard to dominate that space.”

‘Incredible’ changes to women's basketball

Immaculata won three consecutive AIAW titles from 1972-1976 in front of sellout crowds that were a rarity in women's basketball at the time. Delta State won the next three under trailblazing coach Margaret Wade. The Lady Statesmen vaulted to the national spotlight, traveling the country and defeating larger schools — with much bigger budgets — like LSU and Tennessee.

Title IX helped fuel rapid growth in women's sports in the 1970s, but as the women's game grew, the NCAA took over and added full scholarship allotments and started facilities arms races that smaller colleges could not compete with.

Amid the shift, Immaculata moved down to Division III, which does not offer athletic scholarships. Queens College and Delta State dropped to Division II while Wayland Baptist is in the NAIA.

The shift in women's sports is both gratifying and bittersweet for players and coaches from the pioneering schools that helped spark this current growth. Women's basketball in recent years has seen skyrocketing ticket demand, attendance, media coverage and television ratings behind recent stars like Caitlin Clark, Angel Reese and Paige Bueckers.

“Women and girls were playing this game at a different level all over the country and no one knew about it,” former Queens College coach Lucille Kyvallos said. “What happened here was we garnered national attention. Now look what’s happened. It’s incredible.”

Winning titles requires ‘significant investment’

The current revenue sharing model that allows schools to directly pay athletes has added a greater financial hurdle for small schools to overcome.

“If you want to be nationally competitive, if you want to win national championships, there’s a very significant investment involved,” said Big East Commissioner Val Ackerman, “because you’re paying top dollar for your coach. You’re paying for all the amenities. ... And then you’ve got to, now you’ve got to acquire players, and to do that you need money, because they have options. And smaller schools aren’t going to have the same (financial) wherewithal as the big football school has.”

The 68-team women’s NCAA tournament field, for example, had 12 schools from the Big Ten, 10 from the SEC and nine ACC schools. The Big 12 had eight. There were only one at-large team from outside the Power 4 Conferences and the Big East.

“Is that a bad thing?” Ackerman added. “No — I think it’s just the reality of the world we’re in right now.”

Kinnison, who coached baseball at Delta State for 23 seasons before becoming athletic director in 2019, said he wants the school's teams to be able to compete nationally and recapture some form of sustained success. That has been difficult, he added, and the school has faced tough financial decisions to make that happen.

“More and more, we rely on private sources, donations, alumni,” he said in his office on Delta State's campus in Cleveland, Mississippi. “We’re in a town here of 11,000 people, and that’s not the density of a town that has 100,000 or 150,000 people. Some of our corporate options are a little less, so it’s challenging.”

Pioneers battle against becoming afterthoughts

The Delta State AD, along with others at Queens College and Immaculata, remain hopeful that their programs won't be forgotten.

The court at Queens College is named after Kyvallos, the women's basketball Hall of Famer and advocate who built the Knights into pioneers in the AIAW era.

At Delta State, there are similar tributes in the arena's concourse: championship trophies and the preserved netting, the name of former coach Lloyd Clark is painted on the floor of the court named after him, honoring the period in which he won three Division II titles and guided 16 of his teams to the NCAA Tournament.

“You have to be a steward of that history, you have to tell those stories and talk about those individuals because it was crazy to think about what they had to go through," current Queens coach Travis Ponton said.

Current Immaculata coach Brittany Whalen is very familiar with the history of the program. She played there from 2011-15 and was on the court at Madison Square Garden when the team played Queens College in her senior year — four decades after the two programs played the first women's basketball game at MSG.

“It felt like being a celebrity,” Whalen said. “To tie in to that part of the history and that being the first-ever game played there it was just so cool to be a part of.”

Whalen, who has led the team to its first 20-win season since 1976-77 at 24-3, gives tours of the facility to perspective players.

“This is the same building they played in back in the 70s and not much has changed,” she said. “We talk about it in the preseason how you're here because of the women who paved the way before you. If you're going to be a Mighty Mac and be a part of the program, you need to know the history of it.”

Current Delta State coach Tracy Stewart-Lange has a similar appreciation for her program's history.

There's a photo in her phone that reminds her of those days. Former Delta State star and basketball pioneer Lusia Harris is captured mid-layup, and behind her fans are sitting courtside, pressed against the railings and anywhere else they could find a spot.

Games are much quieter now that the school has faded from national prominence, and Stewart-Lange often wonders if that will change.

“We want to fill these seats,” she said. “We're trying to figure out can that still be done."

This declaration comes amid reflections on her time working on "Martin," a Fox series that aired from 1992 to 1997, where Campbell portrayed Gina Waters-Payne opposite Lawrence's Martin Payne. The interviewer noted, “You survived ‘Martin,’ and I know there’s not much you can talk about,” to which Campbell firmly responded, emphasizing her protective resolve.

Campbell's comments revisit a complicated chapter in the show's history. In 1997, during the fifth and final season, she exited the series and filed a lawsuit against Lawrence and others involved in the production. The legal action alleged sexual harassment, sexual battery, verbal abuse, and physical threats, describing Lawrence's behavior as "manic and volatile" with instances of unwanted physical contact. The case was settled out of court in April 1997, after which Campbell returned for the two-part series finale under conditions that ensured she and Lawrence did not film scenes together or share set time.

Over the years, both actors have signaled reconciliation. Ahead of the 2022 "Martin: The Reunion" special on BET+, Campbell stated that the cast had "addressed their personal issues privately" and "healed from" past matters, preferring not to discuss them publicly. Lawrence echoed this, expressing that there is "nothing but love" between them.

The sitcom "Martin" remains a cultural touchstone, celebrated for its humor, memorable characters, and depictions of Black relationships and friendships. Campbell's recent affirmations reinforce the show's enduring legacy while closing the door on revisiting old disputes.

No direct LGBTQ+ perspectives or community responses to this specific interview were documented in available coverage from the past three weeks. The event, occurring within the last day as of March 31, 2026, focuses primarily on entertainment industry reconciliation without explicit ties to LGBTQ+ issues in the sourced reports. Broader context from a FOX Soul YouTube discussion notes public interest in the pair "burying the hatchet," but lacks detailed community input.

Campbell's choice of person-first language and emphasis on protection aligns with themes of forgiveness and boundary-setting, values resonant in diverse communities including LGBTQ+ spaces, though not explicitly linked here. Her career continues to thrive, with recent projects showcasing her versatility beyond "Martin."

Returning to the stage after a brief absence, Rosalía addressed the 11,000 fans directly, explaining her condition in a candid on-stage statement captured in fan footage on social media. "I tried to do this show since the very beginning I’ve been sick," she said. "I’ve had, big-time food poisoning... and I tried to push it until the end, but I’m feeling extremely sick… I’m puking out there… I really want to give the best show, and I’m like on the floor trying my best." She added, "I may try to continue, but at some point, I might have to stop. I’m extremely sick, and I’m really trying, I’ll push on as much as I can, but if we have to stop, we might have to stop if I really physically, I can’t keep going. I’m in pain." Shortly after, she conceded, "I’ve tried by all means to continue the show until the end, but I’m really unwell, and I can’t do it," before apologizing specifically to her Italian audience: "I'm so sorry, Milan, because I wanted the show to go all the way to the end."

The Milan show marked Rosalía's only Italian stop on the Lux Tour, leaving fans disappointed but supportive, with applause accompanying her exit. No immediate health update followed the incident, and it remained unclear if a rescheduled performance would occur in Italy. However, days later, on March 30, Rosalía took the stage at Madrid's Movistar Arena for the next leg of her tour, signaling her recovery.

During the Madrid performance, she reassured the crowd, stating, "I'm much better now." This update came just five days after the Milan disruption, highlighting her resilience amid a demanding tour schedule that includes multiple nights in Madrid.

Rosalía, a global icon whose music fuses flamenco, reggaeton, and pop, has built a devoted fanbase that spans diverse communities, including significant support within LGBTQ+ circles for her boundary-pushing artistry and inclusive stage presence. While no specific LGBTQ+ community responses to this incident were documented in coverage, her fanbase's outpouring of support on social media during the Milan event reflected the artist's broad appeal. The episode underscores the physical toll of high-stakes touring for performers, yet Rosalía's swift return demonstrates professional commitment. As of March 31, no further updates on her health or tour adjustments have been issued. The Lux Tour continues, with fans monitoring her performances closely.

The improbable odyssey began April 1, 1976, when a then-shaggy Steve Jobs and his gadget-tinkering friend Steve Wozniak signed a two-page partnership document that created Apple Computer Co.

Jobs, a 21-year-old college dropout, and Wozniak, a 25-year-old Hewlett-Packard employee, each received a 45% stake in Apple, with the remaining 10% going to their 41-year-old adviser, Ron Wayne.

The company got off to such a shaky start while trying to build a personal computer in the Los Altos, California, home of Jobs' parents that Wayne relinquished his stake for $2,300. It proved to be a $370 billion mistake, based on how much his holdings would have grown now that Apple boasts a $3.7 trillion market value.

But Apple nearly toppled before building its current empire.

After casting aside Jobs in a bitter 1985 breakup, the tech firm engineered a surprise deal that brought back its exiled cofounder in 1997. After reluctantly agreeing to be a temporary adviser, Jobs took over as CEO and masterminded an innovation factory that churned out the iPod, the iPhone and the iPad in a decade-long burst of feverish creativity.

Here's a look at Apple's odyssey so far:

The astounding ascent

Although it was founded in 1976, Apple didn't enjoy its first smash success until June 1977, with the release of the Apple II computer priced at $1,298 (about $7,000 now, adjusted for inflation).

With its sales booming, Apple went public in late 1980 at $22 per share, which translates into 10 cents per share after adjusting for stock splits. That means $2,200 spent to purchase 100 shares at the IPO price would be worth more than $5.5 million today.

Apple's next big thing came at Apple's annual shareholders meeting on Jan. 24, 1984, when Jobs read the opening lines of the Bob Dylan song, “The Times They Are A-Changin'” and unveiled the first Macintosh — a machine that introduced the computer mouse and a graphical interface to the public.

That coming out party came two days after Apple teased the Macintosh computer with a 60-second commercial directed by Ridley Scott that evoked George Orwell's “1984” novel during that year's Super Bowl. The ad created such a huge buzz that it's widely credited for turning Super Bowl commercials into an art form and part of the cultural zeitgeist.

Despite its breakthrough features, the Macintosh (named after an engineer's favorite kind of apple) cost $2,500 (equal to nearly $7,900 today) — one of the reasons that it didn't sell as well as anticipated.

The letdown resulted in layoffs and other cost-cutting by Apple CEO John Sculley, a former PepsiCo executive whom Jobs had personally helped recruit to the company in 1983. A year after the Macintosh's release, the once-close relationship between Sculley and Jobs had disintegrated into a power struggle. Apple's board sided with Sculley, prompting Jobs to resign in September 1985 with a feeling of betrayal that cut so deep that he sold all but one share of his Apple stock.

The jobless descent

After Jobs left, Apple produced popular versions of the Mac with Sculley at the helm.

But Apple's sleekly designed computers couldn't slow the sales momentum of more lower-priced PCs that ran on Microsoft software, whose brazen tactics of replicating the Mac's graphical interface triggered a seven-year legal battle that ended with a 1994 U.S. Supreme Court decision that shot down Apple's copyright claims.

Before that setback, Apple fired Sculley in mid-1993 and replaced him with Michael Spindler, who lasted until early 1996, when he too was ousted amid the company's mounting losses.

In desperation, Apple plucked its next CEO from its own board, Gil Amelio, who had engineered a turnaround at computer chipmaker National Semiconductor.

Almost all of Amelio's moves didn't pay off except one — a surprising $428 million deal for an operating system made by NeXT, a computer startup that Jobs launched after he left Apple.

The remarkable resurrection

Jobs wanted to only spend a few months advising Amelio during 1997, insisting he wanted to focus on his family when he wasn't busy as CEO of Pixar, the computer animation studio he bought from “Star Wars” director George Lucas for $5 million in 1986.

But those plans changed in July 1997, when Apple fired Amelio, setting the stage for Jobs to orchestrate a stunning turnaround.

By August 1997, Jobs had made peace with his longtime rival, Microsoft founder Bill Gates, and had worked out a deal that included a $150 million cash infusion from the Windows maker. The money paved the way for Jobs to introduce a new lineup of candy-colored, translucent computers dubbed the “iMac.” The 'i” prefacing the Mac heralded a new five-point creed consisting of “internet, individual, instruct, inform, and inspire.”

Jobs introduced the first iPod in October 2001, a music storage device that initially could hold up to 1,000 songs. Apple would sell 450 million of the devices in different designs while all but killing the CD format and setting the stage for the age of music streaming.

In what would become his crowning achievement, Jobs walked onto a stage in San Francisco on Jan. 9, 2007, and informed a crowd that he was about to show them three breakthroughs: an iPod with touch-screen controls, a revolutionary cellphone and an internet communicator. Then came his bombshell revelation: “These are not three separate devices. This is one device! And we are calling it the iPhone.”

More than 3 billion iPhones have been sold since then, and the device still accounts for more than half of Apple's annual revenue of $416 billion, nearly 15 years after Jobs died of cancer. Apple's ongoing dependence on the iPhone stems in part from the company's inability to create another mesmerizing product under the leadership of Jobs' hand-picked successor, Tim Cook.

Even so, Apple is worth 10 times more than its $350 billion market value at the time Jobs died — proof that Cook has been a worthy caregiver of a legacy left behind by a visionary who embraced an advertising campaign celebrating “the ones who see things differently.”

Maren Wade says in the trademark infringement lawsuit filed Monday in federal court in California that the glittery branding of Swift's 2025 album comes too close to the aesthetic of her own “Confessions of a Showgirl.” That was the name of a column she wrote on backstage Sin City life in the Las Vegas Weekly starting in 2014, which she turned into a live show that she took on a national tour.

“Both share the same structure, the same dominant phrase, and the same overall commercial impression,” the lawsuit says. “Both are used in overlapping markets and are directed at the same consumers.”

Wade is described as a “singer, songwriter, comedian, and writer” in the lawsuit filed under her legal name, Maren Flagg, and her “Showgirl” brand encompasses performances, writing and digital media.

“The Life of a Showgirl,” the stadium-packing superstar's 12th studio album, released in October, sold 4 million copies in its first week. Its cover features her in Las Vegas cabaret garb, submerged in water with her current favorite color scheme of orange and mint green. On Tuesday, the morning after the lawsuit was filed, Swift dropped the newest video for the album for the album's track “Elizabeth Taylor,” featuring archival footage of the Hollywood luminary who died in 2011.

Wade appeared to embrace Swift’s use of the showgirl image initially, sharing Instagram posts that used Swift's music, hashtags related to the album, and the mint green color scheme. But Wade's social media presence has gone silent in recent months.

Also named as defendants in the lawsuit are the company that manages Swift’s trademarks, her record label and its merchandising arm.

The lawsuit says the album, its promotion and the products surrounding it caused “textbook reverse confusion: a junior user's overwhelming commercial presence drowns out the senior user’s mark, until consumers begin to assume that the original is the imitation. What Plaintiff had built over twelve years, Defendants threatened to swallow in weeks.”

A representative for Swift declined comment on the lawsuit.

Wade and her attorney say that the existence and trademark of “Confessions of a Showgirl” would not have escaped the notice of Swift's team.

The lawsuit says the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office declined to grant a trademark registration to “Life of a Showgirl” over potential confusion with the existing trademark.

“Defendants were therefore placed on actual notice that their chosen designation was likely to be confused with a mark that already belonged to someone,” the lawsuit says. “They continued using it anyway.”

A letter issued by the office in early March says the application was suspended due to potential confusion with another pending trademark filed earlier, for “Showgirl,” by a third party and pertaining to perfume. It also cited a “Likelihood of Confusion Refusal” based on the existing “Confessions” trademark.

The lawsuit seeks an injunction permanently barring Swift and her companies from using the “Life of a Showgirl” name and imagery, and monetary damages to be determined at trial, including profits attributable to the use of the brand.

“The Super Mario Galaxy Movie,” which opens in theaters Wednesday, has some real surprises (Easter eggs, if you will), both consequential and not. One of those, the introduction of Mario’s Nintendo peer Star Fox, has already been teased. But for me, the most unexpected and delightful discovery is that Bowser (voiced once more by Jack Black) and his neglected son Bowser Jr. (Benny Safdie) are painters. The elder uses the brush as a kind of therapy as he works through his demons while in loose captivity, still shrunken down to the size of a toy as we left him in “The Super Mario Bros. Movie,” in Princess Peach’s castle. The younger, so inconsequential that he’s neither seen nor mentioned in the first film, paints to destroy and win his father’s love by taking over the galaxy — a plan that Bowser would, on his rare night off from conquering, read to Bowser Jr. before bedtime. Absent though he might have been for most of Bowser Jr.’s childhood, when he was there, he really went all out with puppetry and showmanship.

This isn’t the only family drama imbued into “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” — Peach (Anya Taylor-Joy) is also wondering about her origins. But thankfully Mario (Chris Pratt) and Luigi (Charlie Day) are spared any such soul-searching. They’re just along for the ride. Mario creator Shigeru Miyamoto and Illumination founder Chris Meledandri, as producers, seem committed to keeping things light and playful even while beholden to advancing some kind of coherent, moderately compelling story where there wasn't one previously.

On a certain level, everyone, including returning directors Aaron Horvath and Michael Jelenic and screenwriter Matthew Fogel, understands that the many people likely to come out to see a Super Mario movie probably aren’t interested in extensive backstories, meaningful character arcs or real-world grittiness. The joy of video games like Super Mario Galaxy is simple and pure: The viewer is transported to a colorful fantasy where space isn’t scary — it’s inviting, shimmering and full of wonder. No one wants to see Yoshi get stabbed (which, yes, really happened in the 1993 movie). They just want to hang out in the Gateway Galaxy, or feel the real stakes of a rotating fire bar.

The film adds a slew of new voice actors to the mix, like Brie Larson as Rosalina (sounding, perhaps, a little too much like Taylor-Joy's Peach) and Donald Glover as Yoshi, a chaotic and enjoyable addition to the gang. As in the games, he’s sure to be a fan favorite. It’s also not completely committed to the worlds of the Galaxy games, as some super fans have already noted and critiqued, which seems excessively strict and unimaginative for this kind of source material. There is one particularly inventive sequence that blends a rendering of Mario in his original 2D 8-bit form, blurry pixels and all, with the 3D beauty of the more modern iterations.

There is, of course, something inherently cynical about “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie,” which is that on a certain level it exists primarily to make more money off these characters, through the games, the merchandise and the inevitable theme park rides. This film is also very high on the otherworldly success of its predecessor. The Lumas are obsessed with the stories of the heroic plumber brothers. The Toads are too. One even wears Mario pajamas and carries around a Mario toy, inviting some inevitable questions about how or why these things were made and where one might buy them. Bowser Jr. also has a bedroom full of villain toys, and bedsheets to match.

I’m not so cheerless as to suggest that the merch is not part of the fun of video-game or toy-based movies for its younger audiences. But when inserted into the fabric of the movie itself, into the storylines, it’s distracting, taking you out of the escape of this wondrous dream world and back into the realities of late-stage capitalism.

“The Super Mario Galaxy Movie,” a Universal Pictures release in theaters Wednesday, is rated PG by the Motion Picture Association for “rude humor, mild violence and action.” Running time: 98 minutes. Two and a half stars out of four.

Judge Brantley Clark also barred Duggar, 31, from having unsupervised contact with any minor under 18.

Duggar, who starred with his parents and siblings in TLC's “19 Kids and Counting,” was arrested March 18 in Tontitown, Arkansas, after police officers interviewed a 14-year-old girl who told them Duggar had molested her several times during a family trip to Panama City Beach, Florida, when she was 9.

The girl's father told police in Arkansas that he confronted Duggar about the abuse, and Duggar admitted to it, an arrest affidavit said. Police officers in Tontitown had the father call Duggar with a detective on the line, and he again admitted to the actions, according to the affidavit.

Duggar waived his extradition to Florida, where he made his first appearance on the charges Tuesday morning. He remained in the Bay County Jail on Tuesday afternoon.

Duggar is charged with lewd and lascivious molestation on a child under 12, and lewd and lascivious contact. Albert Sauline, a lawyer listed on court records for Duggar, did not immediately return an email seeking comment.

Separately, authorities in Arkansas filed charges against Duggar and his wife, Kendra Duggar, 27, according to Tontitown police. The charges include four counts of endangering the welfare of a minor and four counts of false imprisonment. The Duggar family has not responded to requests for comment about the charges.

Duggar's older brother Josh Duggar was convicted in 2022 of downloading child sexual abuse videos. He was sentenced to 12 1/2 years in prison.

TLC’s “19 Kids and Counting” followed the lives of devout Baptists Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar and their 19 children, all of whose names began with the letter “J.”

TLC canceled the show in 2015 following allegations that Josh Duggar had molested four of his sisters and a babysitter years earlier. Josh Duggar’s parents said he had confessed to the fondling and apologized.

“She came to me one day and she said, ‘Mommy, why do all the other mothers come up to you and say, ’I cried'?” Dart recalls. “I said, ‘Well, Mommy wrote a story that makes people cry.’ She didn’t think that was so great.”

A lot of people, respectfully, disagree. That story was “Beaches,” which celebrates the deep bonds of female friendship as it traces the decades-long intertwined lives of two very different women, the messy Cee Cee Bloom and buttoned-up Bertie White.

“Women’s friends are the ones who get them through this life,” Dart says. “Husbands are great, but they ain’t your girlfriend, and they ain’t the one who’s going to take your call at four o’clock in the morning.”

“Beaches” became one of the great all-time cry-inducing stories even as it transcended mediums. It started as a novel, then a movie starring Bette Midler and Barbara Hershey, a TV movie with Idina Menzel and Nia Long, an audiobook and now a Broadway musical.

Dart, 82, co-wrote the musical's story with Thom Thomas and supplied lyrics to songs by Mike Stoller, half the legendary songwriting team of Leiber & Stoller. “Beaches” stars Kelli Barrett as Bertie and Jessica Vosk as Cee Cee and comes to Broadway after a more than 10-year development period. It opens April 22.

‘We were one person’

Dart, who has been a regular at rehearsals, was buzzing after a recent run-through. She took note of how her husband — who has seen many performances — reacted. “I watched him from a few rows back pull his handkerchief out of his pocket. And I thought, ‘OK, we’re good. We got him, we got him.’”

Lonny Price, who directs the musical with Matt Cowart, says Dart is not precious about her creation and is always open to changes or fresh ideas.

“She’s an endless font for these characters,” says Price. “You’d think she would have expressed all there is to say about them, but she keeps finding new ways to express them and in humorous and dramatic and very useful ways for a libretto.”

Musical theater was Dart's first love, before she wrote for “The Sonny & Cher Show” and “Cher” and launched a career as a novelist. She started as a child actor in Pittsburgh, twice wrote the varsity musical with “Wicked” creator Stephen Schwartz at Carnegie Mellon University and graduated with a theater degree.

“Beaches” draws on the real-life close friendship Dart developed with her cousin, Sandy, who lived in Miami Beach. Their families would frequently visit each other and meet in Atlantic City or another beach, giving the fictional work its structure. Letters between visits kept the relationship alive.

Sandy married early, moved to Cleveland and had kids right away, following a more conventional path. Dart was an actor rising up through summer stock, then a writer chasing the arts. (There's a bit of Cher in Cee Cee, as there is some Dart.)

“We balanced each other out. What one lacked, the other made up for. So that was what kicked it all off,” Dart says. “I felt as though we were one person.”

At one point in her own life, Dart called Sandy in a panic — not even saying hello — to ask if she had ever had chickenpox. Her son had it now and Dart was pregnant — so the answer could endanger her unborn daughter. Sandy knew the answer.

“She said, ‘You have a pockmark on your left thigh.’ I said: ‘My husband doesn’t know that about me.’ And she says, ‘Honey, we’ve been married longer.’”

In the musical, Dart has given Bertie the song “My Best” with the lyrics: “When I am with her, it's as if we share one heart/And if I ever lost her I would fall apart.”

The musical, like the beloved film directed by Gary Marshall, traces the friendship sparked in Atlantic City in 1951 that's tested over the years by a love triangle, failed marriages, single parenthood and illness.

Cowart says it is a show that explores the often-intense friendships that women maintain: “I see that very much in the difference between my male friends and seeing my wife with her friends. It’s just a different level of closeness. It’s beautiful. It should be celebrated.”

‘The Wind Beneath My Wings’

The birth of “Beaches” wasn't always smooth, with Dart's literary agent initially finding metaphorical doors slammed in her face. “She tried to tell the story to publishers, and they said, ‘It’s not commercial. Who cares about two little girls who meet on a beach in Atlantic City?’”

After the publication of Dart's novel “The Boys in the Mail Room” in 1980 — a bestseller inspired about a quartet of trainees in a Hollywood studio mailroom who went on to big things — suddenly people wanted to go back to “Beaches.”

The Hollywood studio that turned the book into a movie wanted to change things — like some names and the illness that Bertie contracts — and Dart chose not to turn her story into a screenplay, on the advice of her husband, Stephen Dart.

“He said, ‘I think you should just write another book or write whatever you want, but don’t try and do their version of the story because you’ll never be happy.’ And he was absolutely right.”

The leap to the stage was immeasurably easy since Dart's love of musicals led her to include plenty of music in the novel, including “You'll Never Walk Alone” by Rodgers and Hammerstein and “I'll Build a Stairway to Paradise” by George Gershwin. The movie, of course, famously added the hit song “The Wind Beneath My Wings,” which has made the transition to stage.

“Everybody loves that song. They identify it with the piece. So, it’s crazy not to use it,” she says. “I stay in a place in New York and the doorman said to me, 'How’s it going Mrs. Dart? You are using the song, aren’t you?'”

Dart says it's a privilege to be able to return to Cee Cee and Bertie: “Maturity changes things. That’s what gives me a better point of view about both of them.”

There's also a bit more Dart herself in the work, like the song “Real Woman,” which has the line, “You'll tell them if you're smart/It's all about the way you feel, woman/Whether a tough or genteel woman/What makes a real woman is her heart.”

Dart says she's thumbing her nose at anti-trans and anti-gay people with the song. “I don’t know if I would have been bold enough to put that into a show years ago. But I want to make that statement.”

Woods’ movements were slow and lethargic, he was sweating as he talked to deputies and told them he had taken prescription medication earlier in the morning, according to the incident report released by the Martin County Sheriff’s Office. Woods told deputies he had been looking at his phone and fiddling with the radio before he clipped a truck in front of him, the report said.

Deputies found two white pills, which were identified as the opioid hydrocodone used to treat pain, in his pocket, the report said.

When asked by a deputy if he took any prescription medications, Woods said, “I take a few.”

The golfer was traveling at high speeds on a beachside, residential road on Jupiter Island when his Land Rover clipped the truck and rolled onto its side, according to the sheriff's office, which noted Woods showed signs of impairment.

The truck had $5,000 in damage, according to the sheriff's report.

The truck driver and another person helped Woods out of his vehicle, with the golfer needing to climb out from the passenger side. Neither Woods nor the truck driver were injured.

During a field sobriety test, deputies noticed Woods limping and that he had a compression sock over his right knee. The golfer explained he had undergone seven back surgeries and over 20 leg operations and that his ankle seizes up while walking. Woods, who was hiccupping during the questioning, continuously moved his head during one of the sobriety tests and deputies had to instruct him several times to keep his head straight, the report said.

“Based on my observations of Woods, how he performed the exercises and based on my training, knowledge, and experience, I believed that Woods normal faculties were impaired, and he was unable to safely operate the motor vehicle,” the deputy wrote after the tests.

Woods, 50, is the most influential figure in golf and has become as recognizable as any athlete in the world. The first person of Black heritage to win the Masters in 1997, he has captivated golf fans with records likely never to be broken.

But his injuries kept him from accomplishing more, including those suffered in a 2021 car crash that damaged his right leg so badly he said doctors considered amputation.

At this latest crash, Woods agreed to a Breathalyzer test that showed no signs of alcohol, but he refused a urine test, authorities said. He was arrested and released on bail eight hours later.

Woods’ agent at Excel Sports, Mark Steinberg, has not responded to multiple messages seeking comment. No one from Woods’ camp or the PGA Tour -- he is on the board and is chairman of the committee reshaping the competition model -- have commented since his arrest.

Woods, who has been involved in many crashes over the years, is charged with driving under the influence, property damage and refusal to submit to a lawful test. He is scheduled for arraignment April 23. Online court records do not list an attorney for him.

Under a change to Florida law last year, refusing a law enforcement officer’s request to take a breath, blood or urine test became a misdemeanor, even for a first offense.