Remembrance

I wish that these people who are mourning the death of Michael Jackson, and by these people I mean the public and the family and friends who continue their mourning in public, could learn to mourn better for celebrities or others who have derived some fame for what they have done. I think the best way to mourn someone who has passed is in private, in your own thoughts and memories of that person and how he or she made you feel when they were alive. There are famous people who died long ago who I still mourn, but I rarely if ever talk about it. It's really for me to know and feel, and only for you to know if I feel like talking about it. Frankly, there has been too much said about Michael Jackson this week for my taste, and I am inclined to talk more about other people who have died and who I still miss decades later.

Or just two short years later.

Two years ago today, the opera singer Jerry Hadley shot himself in the head with an air rifle. He lingered on for eight days before finally passing away. He was a great singer, a great musician, and well-loved by those who knew and worked with him. He recorded one of my favorite albums ever, "Standing Room Only", a cross-over for the great American opera singer into Broadway.

His interpretations on this album are fantastic, his voice crystal clear, his diction superb and his sustained notes thrilling. Every song is wonderful on this CD, but my favorites are the opening one on this album, from Brigadoon, "Almost Like Being in Love", the great "What Kind of Fool Am I?" from "Stop the World - I Want to Get Off", with its dramatic, powerful last note, followed immediately by the beginnings, so quiet and emotional, of "Anthem" from the musical "Chess". He also recorded the complete version of "Show Boat" as well as Leonard Bernstein's "Candide" and "Mass" and was the autobiographical hero of Paul McCartney's "Liverpool Oratorio".

This is not to say that he wasn't a wonderful opera performer, as he was that, too. And he performed some of the more interesting and complicated of the repertoire, including "The Tales of Hoffman", "The Rake's Progress", created the title role in "The Great Gatsby" and a recorded for DVD performance at the Salzburg Festival in 1998 of Kurt weill's "Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny". It pains me when performers of this caliber end their own lives. It happens far too often. You could even say that Michael Jackson did it years ago.

I miss Bobby Darin. He was only 37 when he died of complications from heart surgery. He had heart problems since he was a child, brought on by a number of bouts of rheumatic fever. He knew that he only had a short time in this world to make an impact, and boy did he ever.

"Splish Splash", "Dream Lover", one of the greatest recordings ever made, "Mack the Knife", "Beyond the Sea", "Lazy River" and one of my personal favorites from his "folk period", "Simple Song of Freedom". He was a great singer and songwriter, and very smart. He was also a fine actor. He was nominated for a Golden Globe for his performance in "Pressure Point" and received an Academy Award nomination for supporting actor for his performance as a shell-shocked soldier opposite Gregory Peck in "Captain Newman, M.D." It was a terrific performance in an underrated film.

I listen to Bobby Darin and Jerry Hadley quite a lot. One has been gone over 30 years, the other just two.



Another performer that I loved was Pete Duel. He, like Jerry Hadley, shot himself. I was quite young when Pete Duel killed himself, and I was pretty inconsolable about it, but I remember, even back then, that I kept those feelings pretty much to myself. I think it is somewhat undignified for people to mourn so in public. I was 11 years old, and then, two years after Pete died, Bobby Darin died. It was a painful time. Pete didn't leave the mark in his few 30-some years that Bobby Darin did in his, but I loved him anyway. "Alias Smith and Jones" remains one of my all-time favorite shows; I think it was the perfect casting, with Ben Murphy as Kid Curry and Pete as Hannibal Heyes, two outlaws who were popular with "everyone but the railroads and the banks" because they never shot anyone. It was a sweet premise for a show, handled with great charm and humor. And chemistry is everything in these "buddy" shows and films, as Paul Newman and Robert Redford showed in the movie many say the series was based upon. I think Alias Smith and Jones was the very beginning of what, for me, grew to be a deep and abiding love of the American West. I cannot wait to get out West again. My one trip, with my Beagle Fred, was the great trip of my lifetime. Pete was also always picking up stray dogs and adopting others from shelters to add to his brood, and you know how I feel about that.

I adored Luciano Pavarotti, and I was lucky enough to live outside of Philadelphia when he was spending so much time there with his international vocal competition. I saw him in concert many times, I saw him perform "Tosca" and "La Boheme", one at the Mann Music Center and one at the Academy of Music. And Dana and I saw him and Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo at the "Three Tenors" concert at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles. I became a fan of opera in ninth grade when I took Italian as my foreign language elective. I had a handsome teacher, Mr. Mazzotta, and the Italian Club leader and my Italian teacher for the next three years, Cesarina DeCesero, afforded us many, many opportunities to see opera and listen to it in class. To my ear, Pavarotti was unique amongst tenors. The clarity of the Italian, for he certainly was unsurpassed in singing Italian opera and popular song, and the lyricism of his vocals was just beautiful. He made me cry so many times. Even though he was 72 when he died and hadn't really been singing much anymore, I still feel that he left too soon. But he had a brilliant, long career, and was considered the great tenor of his generation, and possibly of all time. He was my favorite tenor, and will be forever.