How many lives will you touch during your time on earth?
Yes, that’s a question without an answer. We all hope that our contact with
others will leave positive things, but most of us aren’t really sure of the
impact we have. Robin Williams is one of the exceptions. I’ve waited for a
while until all the news and television folks poured out their stories and
condolences. Now I’ll talk about an individual that was a part of my life for
years.
When “Mork and Mindy” came on television, Robin Williams
immediately hooked me. Never before had I experienced the rapid-fire comedy
that he presented. Most viewers were awed by the way he could take any
situation and then ad-lib hilarity into the entire scene. Such an ability was
even more impressive when it was pointed out that Williams was at one time a Julliard
Shakespearian actor.
Over the years I kept up with Robin Williams. I viewed his
early movies, and my good friend Glenn Marquart and I watched “Good Morning
Vietnam” over and over. “Mrs. Doubtfire” and “Goodwill Hunting” won over
millions of fans. “What Dreams May Come” is another one of my favorite movies.
It delves into the world of depression and death and resurrection. Many won’t
like the road the movie travels, but it might very well be a glimpse into the agony
that Robin Williams might have encountered.
One of the things of which I am proudest during my teaching
career is having introduced students to “The Dead Poets’ Society.” Robin
Williams played an English instructor in an all boys’ private school. He reached
those boys with a message that they needed to seek their own interests and
life’s callings. He quoted my favorite authors, from Emerson to Thoreau to
Whitman, and his performance captivated audiences. I have often wished aloud
that in some way I could have had the same kind of impact on my real-life
students that this actor did on the movie set.
Williams’ stand-up act was a smorgasbord of topics from politics
to child rearing to sex. It was raw, not things for the faint of heart or the
easily offended. Still, I watched his recorded concerts, and after the tenth
time, I’d mastered the lines from most of his routines. What was lacking was
the energy that he infused into every concert and the perfect timing he
employed in telling a joke. I shared those recordings with my brothers and
others, and everyone laughed until he or she hurt.
In 2001, Robin Williams scheduled a concert date in
Nashville. I wanted desperately to see him, but the cost of a ticket was much
too high for a teacher with a daughter in college and a son in high school. I’d
talked with my brother Dal, who lived in Nashville, about the concert, and a
couple of days later, he called me to tell me that he’d bought two tickets and
that we were going. I almost cried with excitement.
I traveled to Nashville on Saturday before the Sunday
concert to spend time with Dal and his wife Brenda. In the evening, he began to
feel ill and complained about begin dizzy. He went to bed that night and slept
through most of Sunday. Dal got up with full intentions of going to the
concert, but he never felt better. I drove to the Grand Ole Opry House and
watched Williams alone. For two-plus hours he performed and kept the audience
in agonizing laughter. At the same time, he went through a couple of cases of
water as he drank and poured and doused the stage and audience. The only downer
was the empty seat where Dal should have been sitting and laughing with me.That
was an enormous night in my life. It marked the day I first watched an idol
perform live. It also marked the first day of a short, brutal, and deadly
battle with cancer that my big brother went through.
Now Robin Williams is gone. He spent a career making others
laugh and feel happy, all the while battling depression and other problems that
eventually consumed him so much that death was preferable to living. I’m going
to miss him for a long time. It’s just another blow in this year, which has
been less than special. I hope that Robin Williams finds some peace from the
torment that broke him. He will be missed by many of us. I also hope he will
tell a couple of jokes to Dal.
Many will understand it when I wish him eternal rest,
peace, and happiness, “O Captain, my Captain.”
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