When asked what he did for a living in the 1980s, Larson replied, "I'm the future of the American musical theater."

Larson was right, but he never got to see his success. On Jan. 24, 1996, he watched the final dress rehearsal of his show, did an interview with a New York Times reporter, went home to his apartment, put on a pot of tea and died of an aortic aneurysm. He was 35.

The show was postponed for a couple of weeks. When it opened a few weeks later, it began a juggernaut that still hasn't subsided.

"Frankly, we'd trade the whole thing to have Jonathan still alive," said his father, Al, who has traveled the world to see the more than 100 productions of the show. "He worked so hard for this and waited so long for it and didn't get to see any of it. That hurts."

Jonathan Larson lived the artist's lifestyle, toiling at a diner and going home at night to compose. He didn't want to take a job that required creativity because it would get him off track of his musical ideas.

The show is somewhat autobiographical, Al Larson said.

"There are bits of Jonathan in both Mark and Roger, but there are bits of his friends in most of the characters. Jonathan had a girlfriend who left him for a woman. The telephone messages . . . his mother and I are guilty of being the source of some of those."

Jonathan Larson's legacy lives. This month, a luncheon for the Jonathan Larson Foundation will raise funds to provide new composers the resources they need to complete their work.

"I enjoy talking to people about Jonathan," his father said. "I'm so proud of him. My one complaint in this whole thing is that he should be here doing his own talking because he could talk. Believe me, he could talk."