To Sam Boyle! February 7, 2008
Posted by bbop in death.add a comment
The other day I learned that Sam Boyle, my RW1 (Reporting and Writing 1, probably the main class that defines your Columbia Journalism School experience) professor had passed away after a lengthy fight with lung cancer. I think Sam was more of a mentor figure to some of my younger classmates than me, but I appreciated the lessons he tried to impart and enjoyed the stories he told. Sam was a journalist through and through — he was the Associated Press’ New York City bureau chief for more than 20 years — and I’ll always remember his completely unflappable demeanor.
On a personal note, Sam sent me a very nice e-mail just before graduation last year after I won a new media award. I’m glad he won’t have to suffer any longer with that terrible disease, but sad to think he won’t be able to enjoy the things that gave him pleasure in life. He was just 59 — way, way too young to be gone. As if we needed another reminder to carpe diem.
You can read more about Sam’s career here. RIP.
Um, didn’t he die a while ago? December 1, 2007
Posted by bbop in childhood, death.Tags: Evel Knievel, pinball
1 comment so far
You know how there’s some famous people you thought were long dead? That’s what I thought about Evel Knievel. Then I heard he had passed away yesterday at the age of 69. Apparently he had been in pretty bad shape for a while, but hung on until his body finally gave out. The motorcycle daredevil, whose glory days were in the 1970s, was a little bit before my time, but in many ways inspired the Super Dave Osborne character that became pretty popular in the late 1980s and early 1990s as I got old enough to watch and appreciate parodies and that sort of thing.
Anyway, back to Knievel for a second. The main reason that his death had an impact on me is that he was one of the first, maybe the first, pop culture icon I remember. Why? Because of pinball.
After my family moved to Valparaiso, Ind., when I was around nine, I found myself at the Thupvongs’ house — Dr. Kosin Thupvong was one of my dad’s partners — fairly often because they seemed to host all the get-togethers for the Northwest Indiana Thai community. In their basement, they had an Evel Knievel pinball machine. (For some reason, I remember it being a little different than the one partly pictured above, but I couldn’t find any different versions when I Googled so maybe my memory is failing me. You kind of get the picture either way.) I was weirdly fascinated by that machine, not so much because of Knievel but because I had never really seen a pinball machine up close before, much less played one. I thought it was pretty awesome.
By contrast, I didn’t even think Knievel was real. I just figured they made up a character to make the machine look cool. Surely a real person wouldn’t be named Evel. Or be on a pinball machine. I can’t remember exactly when I found out he was real, but it didn’t surprise me that much because I guess I just always thought of him as fictional or, at the very least, larger than life. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.
RIP x 2 November 21, 2006
Posted by bbop in death.add a comment
Sad to hear about the death of director Robert Altman today. If you haven’t seen Nashville, The Player, Short Cuts, or Gosford Park, do yourself a favor. I always loved what Altman was able to do with large, ensemble casts in films such as those. He had a way of getting some really wonderful performances out of his actors. I’ve had one of Altman’s most acclaimed 1970s films, California Split, on my “to watch” shelf for a while now. Hopefully I can carve out some time to watch it soon.
In other news, I learned last night about the death of a former editor of mine, Mark Leary. He had been fighting cancer on and off for the past few years, but I heard that he had recently taken a turn for the worse. In 1999, when the job market wasn’t all that great, Mark offered me a full-time position at The Journal News. I think I started about a month after I graduated from Northwestern. I’ll always be grateful to Mark for giving me a chance and helping me develop as a reporter. I met some great people at the paper and, generally speaking, had a good time working there. A friend of mine, Sam Weinman, wrote a nice little tribute to Mark for today’s paper, which you can read here.
I have mixed feelings about Mark’s death. Obviously I was saddened to hear about it and I feel badly for his family. I do feel like it’s probably better, if he was suffering as much as I had heard, for it not to be any more prolonged than it had to be. The last few interactions I ever had with Mark were not all that great, frankly. Not to speak ill of the dead, but I really feel like as much as he supported me in the beginning, he didn’t when things got tough. If he had really stood up for me during the whole Iona fiasco that led to my departure in late 2004, things might have worked out differently. But when I felt like he wasn’t behind me, that was the last straw that told me I should leave. It’s too bad that my last conversation with him was about something petty. I guess that’s one regret I’ll always have.
