Actress -- via the Hollywood Reporter. Best known for her work in films such as "Jacob's Ladder," "Lone Star," and "The Incredibles."
Interesting, overlooked, and significant obituaries from around the world, as they happen, emphasizing the positive achievements of those who have died. Member, Society of Professional Obituary Writers.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Marie Dubois
Actress -- via Le Monde. AKA Caludine Lucie Pauline Huze. One of my heartthrobs, she was the beautiful and loving waitress Lena in Truffaut's "Shoot the Piano Player." Won a Cesar for her work "La Menace," and did much supporting work.
Gary McLarty
Stunt man, actor, and stunt coordinator -- via deadline.com. AKA "Whiz Kid." Killed in a car accident with his old friend and fellow stunt man Bob Orrison. He was in just about everything -- he rode the motorcycle up the stairs in "Animal House," he doubled for Fonzie on "Happy Days."
McLarty figured prominently in two Hollywood tragedies. First, he was Vic Morrow's stunt double in "Twilight Zone: The Movie," and was in the helicopter when it crashed during filming on June 23, 1982, killing Morrow and two child actors. McCarty asserted he warned director John Landis that the stunt was too dangerous to perform.
Second, he testified during the trial of actor Robert Blake for the 2001 murder of his wife, claiming that Blake offered him $10,000 to do the job.
McLarty figured prominently in two Hollywood tragedies. First, he was Vic Morrow's stunt double in "Twilight Zone: The Movie," and was in the helicopter when it crashed during filming on June 23, 1982, killing Morrow and two child actors. McCarty asserted he warned director John Landis that the stunt was too dangerous to perform.
Second, he testified during the trial of actor Robert Blake for the 2001 murder of his wife, claiming that Blake offered him $10,000 to do the job.
Bob Orrison
Howard Cocks Dickinson IV
Former state legislator; perhaps the most exuberant obituary penned since Rabelais walked the earth -- via the Conway Daily Sun. It is currently fourth from the top of the page; it bears repeating in full below.
Howard Cocks Dickinson IV, aka Crow, King of The Hill, and
"Uncle Foof" crossed over to the other side at 4:20 AM on October 8,
2014, as stormy skies covered up the eclipse of the full blood moon and the
North winds swept in to carry his spirit away from his home on Baird Hill. He
walked through heaven's gate "prick first," just as he would have
wanted.
Born in Schenectady N.Y., January 29, 1936 to Cynthia Potter
Read and Howard C. Dickinson, Jr. Crow grew up at Peach's Point in Marblehead,
Mass., and from there went on to St. Paul's School, Harvard University '58, and
Yale Forestry School.
In 1967 Crow bought his farm on Baird Hill Road in Center
Conway, N.H. where he spent the rest of his life. Crow is survived by three
children (that we know of) James Russell Dickinson, Alexander Solely Dickinson,
and Anne Staveley, six grandchildren Cree, Taylor, Nathaniel "Tait",
Eric, Cypress, and Howard "Jack," and by his brother Read Dickinson.
He was pre-deceased by his beloved dog and faithful last companion Tia, among
many other adored Jack Russells.
Crow was very proud to have dedicated his life to public
service and helping those in his community. He served in the Navy, spent 32
years as a N.H. State Representative, served many years as a selectman for the
Town of Conway, and was a member multiple local boards and committees. In his
lengthy political career Crow touched the lives of many many people. A few of
his accomplishments that he was most proud of were the "Ski Area Liability
Law," creating "The Board of Midwifery," "The Current-Use
law" and the new "Moose Lottery."
In his younger days, Crow was an adventure traveler who
sailed in the Newport-Bermuda Race; rowed at the Henley Regatta in England; fly
fished in Iceland, Argentina as well as throughout New England. He hunted in
Italy, England, Austria, South America and throughout the Northeast.
Crow was a lover of hunting, fishing, food, the woods, women,
politics, dogs, guns,porn, and last but not least, himself. He was The Master
teacher of knife sharpening, iron pan cleaning, lawn mowing, gun cleaning,
cooking roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and gravy, making "dredge,"
double-buttered toast, turning off lights, closing windows, sharpening chain
saws ... and much much more!
As he begins his new journey we wish him: Fair Winds &
Following Seas, Tight Loops & Fish On, Sharp Knives & Good Food, Steady
Points & Crossing Shots, A Sharp Saw & Sound Wood, Voice Votes with
Unanimous Consent & Bipartisanship, and a room full of women with an open
bar!
Services will be held 2 p.m. on November 1, 2014 at the
Salyard Center for the Arts in Conway Village, N.H. Please bring your favorite
written story, memory or photograph to post and share on a wall created in his
memory. No flowers please, instead plant a chestnut tree.
Lesson to be learned: be nice to your children, because they
are the ones who hold your hand when you are dying and write your obituary ;)
Fred Branfman
Educational advisor who discovered and reported that the U.S. was bombing Laos -- via the Telegraph. He later became an advisor and writer on political topics.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Isaac "Ike" Jones
Film producer -- via the L.A. Times. His marriage to white actress Inger Stevens was kept secret by them.
WEEKLY READER: International roundup of stories on death, dying, mourning, and more
TOP STORIES
John
Cleese looks forward to death – via Abid Rahman at the Hollywood Reporter
A
few steps from death: life in an Ebola clinic – via Sheri Fink in the New
York Times
DEATH
What
does a manager do when an employee dies? – from Ann Belser at the
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
Consciousness
after death – new scientific study – via Sarah Knapton at the Telegraph
Some
wish to preserve their tattoos after their deaths – from Martha Bebinger on
NPR
MOURNING
Via Confessions of a Funeral Director – What
being a funeral photographer is all about, by John Slaytor
“Why
I Commemorate the Anniversary of my Father’s Death on Social Media” – by Jackie
Oshry on the Huffington Post
Laughing
to keep from crying – from Sarah Rosenblum on Slate
Mourning
before and after Facebook – by Jenny Chang on shizznat.com
FUNERALS
How
to handle funeral costs – by Susan Johnston at U.S. News and World Report
Funeral
director accused of mishandling remains, and funeral funds – via Roberto
Scalese at boston.com
OBITUARIES
Director
Vanessa Gould working on new documentary film about obit writing – by Michelle
Young on Untapped Cities
END-OF-LIFE
Dying
woman chooses to end her life Nov. 1 – via CBS News
HUMOR
“North
Korean Populace Already Mentally Preparing For Whatever Insane Bullshit They’ll
Have To Do For Kim Jong-Un Funeral” – via The Onion
Monday, October 13, 2014
Bill Vielehr
Sculptor -- via Westword. A Boulder fixture for decades, Bill gained a huge reputation as a artist, displayed round the world. He crafted his sculptures and art in his little studio up at the end of Pearl Street. I got to know him through his volunteer work for the Boulder International Film Festival, especially for the award statuettes he made for the festival. He was a fun guy, and he liked to party. He was always very nice to us, happy to say hi and chat. A good, good guy! We will miss him.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Stanley Chase
Producer for stage, film and TV -- via the L.A. Times. As a student at NYU, he mounted the first significant English-language production of Brecht and Weill's "The Threepenny Opera" in 1954; in film, he produced the sci-fi classic "Colossus: The Forbin Project."
Friday, October 10, 2014
FRIDAY REVIEW: 'Will the Circle Be Unbroken?"
Will the Circle Be Unbroken? Reflections on Death, Rebirth,
and a Quest for Faith
Studs Terkel
2001
The New Press
New York
Studying death is not a barrel of laughs. However, in
keeping with the behavior of a crackpot autodidact on any given topic, I am
constantly absorbing a never-shrinking pile of information on thanatology,
obituaries, geriatrics, postmortem legalities, and tangent issues.
As I blunder through the literature, it’s a real treat to
read Studs on the subject. Studs Terkel, if you haven’t been conscious
recently, was a maker of raconteurs. He could draw people out. Over the course
of his hour-long, five-days-a-week interview show on Chicago radio over the
course of 45 years, he talked to any- and everybody. He knew how to phrase
questions to prompt the most fruitful answer. He knew how to shut up and
actively listen.
His oral histories, such as “Working,” “Hard Times,” and “’The
Good War’” are gripping because they stand history and sociology on their heads.
Instead of analyzing theories, summarizing speeches and quoting big shots,
Studs talks to people at every level and across every range of interest. What
you get is a people’s history, from the ground up and out of the midst of
things. At their best, Studs’ interviewees make poetic flights, utter heartrending
words of insight, and just come alive on the page.
Such is the case with “Will the Circle Be Unbroken?”, a
project that examines the end of life and the afterlife through the voices of
doctors, patients, activists, painters, poets, singers, holy men, students, garbage
men. Studs lets his people speak. The questions, hesitations, interruptions are
excised, and the subjects hold forth in a series of monologues. A hierarchy of
flow and meaning inhabits the path the book takes; we move from the stark
contemplation of death to thoughts about postmortem possibilities for the soul,
to ruminations on lives well- and not-so-well lived.
There are large portions on the AIDS crisis of the ‘80s and ‘90s.
It is hard to believe in retrospect that so many people lost their lives in the
epidemic, and the issues of tolerance, compassion, and political expedience raised
in these pages still resonated today.
Anyone seeking to get away from more grim and tedious
discussions of this topic will find this an antidote.
Mark A. Harris
Journalist; his work spurred the passing of California's open-meetings law -- via the L.A. Times.
Steve Curry
Actor, later farmer; his head is on the iconic "Hair" poster -- via the New York Times. Eric Grode's piece is a great example of how to flesh a life story out of a seemingly inconsequential bit of history.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
From the archives: Norman Corwin and the beauty of radio
Originally published Oct, 19, 2011.
I've been curating the obituaries of significant and interesting lives for more than a year now. I haven't been moved to hold one life up to the light until now.
Norman Corwin died yesterday at the age of 101. Sixty years ago, he was one of the most celebrated voices in America. Ten years after that, the medium he made his name in was extinct.
The world of radio as mainstream entertainment for America lasted only from 1926 to 1962. It dominated the public consciousness, employed thousands, and broadcast millions of hours of drama, comedy, music, news, kids' shows, quiz shows and more. It anticipated all the genres found on TV and trained most fo that industry's first generation of talent. Television killed it -- although radio persists as a creative medium in many other countries, it died a quick death here.
Although radio spawned a recognizable flood of stars -- Jack Benny, Gene Autry, Jack Webb, William Conrad, George Burns, Orson Welles -- the list of writers, directors and producers behind them is often overlooked. Corwin was the most significant and one of the most skilled of them all.
Unlike other major figures such as Himan Brown, Arch Oboler, Elliott Lewis, William Spier, Gertrude Berg, Carlton E. Morse, Norman MacDonnell, Edward R. Murrow, Stan Freberg, Anne Hummert, Paul Rhymer, Irna Phillips, Lucille Fletcher and Don Quinn, Corwin became a household name because of his quick facility with language and the broad, sentimental, affirmative canvases he often painted. He started off as a reporter (excellent training for churning out words without the luxury of writer's block), moved on to reading news and creating original work for stations in Boston. His talent soon brought him to the network level at CBS, where he was given carte blanche to deliver such inventive limited series as "Norman Corwin's Words without Music," "26 by Corwin," "Columbia Presents Corwin" and others.
He was a booster of American ideals, and articulate so well and so vividly that he became the de facto voice of the nation for a time. "We Hold These Truths," broadcast over all major networks on December 15, 1941, told a shell-shocked nation just what it was fighting for. "On a Note of Triumph" four years later celebrated victory over the Nazis.
He could work in many genres, as is proved by radio plays such as "The Plot to Overthrow Christmas," "They Fly Through the Air with the Greatest of Ease," "The Undecided Molecule," and perhaps his best work, "Document A/777," which outlined the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights by the United Nations.
After radio's heyday, he kept on writing -- for film, TV and print. He taught journalism for decades at USC. Late in life, he produced a spate of dramatic broadcasts for National Public Radio, proving the continued viability of the medium.
American commercial radio was by and large for its 36 years an immature art form, trapped in genre conventions and unable to tackle many controversial subjects. It was on the cusp of developing into something complex, grown-up and cutting-edge when it went silent. Corwin reveled in the freedom of sound, the intimacy it imparted to the listener, its imaginative scope. Working with a handful of pages and some microphones, sound effects personnel, musicians and persuasive performers could create a world, stimulate the ear and provoke minds.
Due to a family fondness for "old-time" radio, I was steeped in the programs as a child. The first pieces I wrote were scripts for radio. The first big successes of my career were delivered to the ear. I wound up in front of a microphone, off and on, for years. Even though it's still perceived as a marginal and antiquated means of expression, I would still drop everything for a chance to work in it again.
A lot of the thanks for this gift of hearing the beauty of radio and yearning to fulfill its still untapped potential goes to Mr. Corwin. Moreover, he believed in truth, liberty, equality, justice and compassion -- what we used to call principles and now think of as mere slogans. He wasn't afraid to be corny, to wax rhapsodic, to champion thoughts that the cynical disdain. By doing so, he gives people like me permission to keep those principles alive and discussed. For this, much thanks.
I've been curating the obituaries of significant and interesting lives for more than a year now. I haven't been moved to hold one life up to the light until now.
Norman Corwin died yesterday at the age of 101. Sixty years ago, he was one of the most celebrated voices in America. Ten years after that, the medium he made his name in was extinct.
The world of radio as mainstream entertainment for America lasted only from 1926 to 1962. It dominated the public consciousness, employed thousands, and broadcast millions of hours of drama, comedy, music, news, kids' shows, quiz shows and more. It anticipated all the genres found on TV and trained most fo that industry's first generation of talent. Television killed it -- although radio persists as a creative medium in many other countries, it died a quick death here.
Although radio spawned a recognizable flood of stars -- Jack Benny, Gene Autry, Jack Webb, William Conrad, George Burns, Orson Welles -- the list of writers, directors and producers behind them is often overlooked. Corwin was the most significant and one of the most skilled of them all.
Unlike other major figures such as Himan Brown, Arch Oboler, Elliott Lewis, William Spier, Gertrude Berg, Carlton E. Morse, Norman MacDonnell, Edward R. Murrow, Stan Freberg, Anne Hummert, Paul Rhymer, Irna Phillips, Lucille Fletcher and Don Quinn, Corwin became a household name because of his quick facility with language and the broad, sentimental, affirmative canvases he often painted. He started off as a reporter (excellent training for churning out words without the luxury of writer's block), moved on to reading news and creating original work for stations in Boston. His talent soon brought him to the network level at CBS, where he was given carte blanche to deliver such inventive limited series as "Norman Corwin's Words without Music," "26 by Corwin," "Columbia Presents Corwin" and others.
He was a booster of American ideals, and articulate so well and so vividly that he became the de facto voice of the nation for a time. "We Hold These Truths," broadcast over all major networks on December 15, 1941, told a shell-shocked nation just what it was fighting for. "On a Note of Triumph" four years later celebrated victory over the Nazis.
He could work in many genres, as is proved by radio plays such as "The Plot to Overthrow Christmas," "They Fly Through the Air with the Greatest of Ease," "The Undecided Molecule," and perhaps his best work, "Document A/777," which outlined the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights by the United Nations.
After radio's heyday, he kept on writing -- for film, TV and print. He taught journalism for decades at USC. Late in life, he produced a spate of dramatic broadcasts for National Public Radio, proving the continued viability of the medium.
American commercial radio was by and large for its 36 years an immature art form, trapped in genre conventions and unable to tackle many controversial subjects. It was on the cusp of developing into something complex, grown-up and cutting-edge when it went silent. Corwin reveled in the freedom of sound, the intimacy it imparted to the listener, its imaginative scope. Working with a handful of pages and some microphones, sound effects personnel, musicians and persuasive performers could create a world, stimulate the ear and provoke minds.
Due to a family fondness for "old-time" radio, I was steeped in the programs as a child. The first pieces I wrote were scripts for radio. The first big successes of my career were delivered to the ear. I wound up in front of a microphone, off and on, for years. Even though it's still perceived as a marginal and antiquated means of expression, I would still drop everything for a chance to work in it again.
A lot of the thanks for this gift of hearing the beauty of radio and yearning to fulfill its still untapped potential goes to Mr. Corwin. Moreover, he believed in truth, liberty, equality, justice and compassion -- what we used to call principles and now think of as mere slogans. He wasn't afraid to be corny, to wax rhapsodic, to champion thoughts that the cynical disdain. By doing so, he gives people like me permission to keep those principles alive and discussed. For this, much thanks.
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