obit Archives - Page 2 of 25 - Ramblin' with Roger

James Earl Jones (1931-2024)

2 Tony awards

The first time I specifically remember seeing James Earl Jones in a movie was in The Great White Hope (1970), where he played a Jack Johnson-like boxer. I went to the cinema with my high school girlfriend and her father. Both Jones and Jane Alexander had won Tonys for their Broadway performances. The performances were very good, though I thought the film was too stagy.

More likely, I watched him on television series in the 1960s, such as the great East Side/West Side (1962) or the courtroom drama The Defenders, in which he played two different characters. I have the Along Came a Spider episode in season 1 on DVD! I’ll have to check that out.

It’s possible I saw him on the soap operas Guiding Light and/or As The World Turns, which my maternal grandmother and great-aunt watched religiously.

I was recently making a list of my favorite movies. Field Of Dreams is definitely on it, and James Earl Jones’ near-monologue is a primary reason.

The VOICE

But it’s the voice, in everything from Star Wars (1977 et al.)to The Lion King (1994) to the CNN tag – all represented in this brief Simpsons clip – that he was best known for. Listen also to his narration of Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven. Per Mark Evanier, he even did an episode of Garfield.

It’s strange for someone who stuttered so severely as a child, born on January 17, 1931, in Arkabutla, MS, that he stopped speaking for a time because of his abusive grandmother’s treatment. “Mr. Jones profited from a deep analysis of meaning in his lines. ‘Because of my muteness,’ he said in ‘Voices and Silences,’ a 1993 memoir written with Penelope Niven, ‘I approached language in a different way from most actors. I came at language standing on my head, turning words inside out in search of meaning, making a mess of it sometimes, but seeing truth from a very different viewpoint.'”

I also saw him in the movies, including The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings (1976), Coming to America (1988), The Hunt for Red October (1990), Sneakers (1992), The Sandlot (1993), and more recently, Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964).

Indeed, I watched him in anything that aired on TV, including Homicide: Life on the Street, Picket Fences, Law & Order, and NYPD Blue, and his portrayal of Alex Haley on Roots: The Next Generation.

The Brooks and Marsh book on TV described his role as a police captain on Paris (1979), a short-lived program, as lacking “believability… Jones, a highly respected actor, strutted through this role speaking in booming, stentorian tones as if it were Richard III.” But I watched it; it was James Earl Jones! On this show, he met his second wife, Cecilia Hart, who predeceased him.

“His Acting Resonated Onstage and On-screen”

Alas, I never saw him on stage. “A commanding presence on the Broadway stage, Jones earned four competitive Tony Award nominations for Best Actor in a Play, winning twice for his performances as Jack Jefferson in The Great White Hope in 1969 and Troy Maxson in August Wilson’s Fences in 1987. He received a Special Tony Award at the 2017 ceremony…

“In September 2022, the Shubert Organization rechristened its 110-year-old Cort Theatre as The James Earl Jones Theatre… ‘For me standing in this very building 64 years ago at the start of my Broadway career, it would have been inconceivable that my name would be on the building today,’ Jones said in a statement… “Let my journey from then to now be an inspiration for all aspiring actors.'”

Jones was a 2002 Kennedy Center Honoree and received Lifetime Achievement Awards from SAG-AFTRA in 2009 and the National Board of Review in 1995. Here’s a 1996 interview, a life in pictures, a critic’s appreciation of an “ideal elevator companion,” and the New York Times obituary.

Given the fact that he was 93 and had lived what most would consider a “good life,” I was surprised at how utterly sad I was at his passing.

Willie Mays

Rickwood Field

**I have a postcard with this on the back which I bought in Cooperstown at least 30 years ago.**

On May 6, 2006, I wrote: “Back in 1994, I bought some beverage from McDonald’s and I ended up with a Willie Mays glass. It features a replica of his 1957 baseball card when he played with the New York Giants. That was the team’s last year at the Polo Grounds, before moving to San Francisco. (I still have the glass.)”

Not only did I have the glass, it was in the cabinet with other drinking glasses. I never used it. The rest of my family did. My wife used it on the morning of June 18 to drink water. When I learned that Willie Mays had died, I wrapped the glass in plastic and put it in a box to keep it. It could have broken any time during the previous quarter century, but only then did I know I needed to retire it.

I noted: “When I went to Cooperstown one year, I got to buy this plastic figurine of Willie. I loved it. The arms even moved! Then the dog bit off one of his feet, and one of the arms (the one with the glove) fell off, but I kept it for a good long time anyway.”

1962

I also wrote about him on May 6, 2011. Suffice it to say, Willie Mays was my favorite player. Not only that, I decided I loved San Francisco long before I had visited there, in large part because the Say Hey Kid played there.

The 1962 World Series was difficult for me because the New York Yankees, the parent team of the minor league Triplets of Binghamton, with Ford, Howard, Tresh, Richardson, Mantle, and ROGER Maris against the San Francisco Giants of Cepeda, McCovey, Davenport, Alou, Alou, Marichal, and of course, Mays. It was a great Series, with the NYY winning Game 7, 1-0.

The loss pained him. So the World Series victories by the Giants in 2010, 2012, and 2014 reportedly thrilled him, especially the first one.

The Globe

I could give you the stats. From the Boston Globe (paywall likely):

“Over 22 MLB seasons, virtually all with the New York/San Francisco Giants, Mays batted .301, hit 660 home runs, totaled 3,293 hits, scored more than 2,000 runs, and won 12 Gold Gloves. He was Rookie of the Year in 1951, twice was named the Most Valuable Player, and finished in the top 10 for the MVP 10 other times. His lightning sprint and over-the-shoulder grab of an apparent extra-base hit in the 1954 World Series remains the most celebrated defensive play in baseball history.

“He was voted into the Hall in 1979, his first year of eligibility, and in 1999 followed only Babe Ruth on The Sporting News’ list of the game’s top stars. (Statistician Bill James ranked him third, behind Ruth and Honus Wagner). The Giants retired his uniform number, 24, and set their AT&T Park in San Francisco on Willie Mays Plaza.” The center fielder had been baseball’s oldest living Hall of Famer.

But it wasn’t just his enormous five-tools talent, but his effervescent personality. “For millions in the 1950s and ‘60s and after, the smiling ball player with the friendly, high-pitched voice was a signature athlete and showman during an era when baseball was still the signature pastime. Awarded the Medal of Freedom by President Barack Obama in 2015, Mays left his fans with countless memories.”

The Times

From the New York Times: “Mays captured the ardor of baseball fans at a time when Black players were still emerging in the major leagues and segregation remained untrammeled in his native South. He was revered in Black neighborhoods, especially in Harlem, where he played stickball with youngsters outside his apartment on St. Nicholas Place — not far from the Polo Grounds, where the Giants played — and he was treated like visiting royalty at the original Red Rooster, one of Harlem’s most popular restaurants in his day.”

MLB

I was afraid he was unwell when he declined to attend a Major League League game played in his native Alabama. “Rickwood Field is the oldest still-existing professional ballpark in the nation, and it’s best known for being the home of the Negro Leagues’ Birmingham Black Barons in the early-mid 20th century, a franchise that produced eventual Hall of Famers Satchel Paige, Mule Suttles, and Willie Mays.”

Mays, just days before he died, revealed in “a statement to the San Francisco Chronicle that he would not be attending Thursday’s [i.e., today’s] contest.

“’I wish I could come out to Rickwood Field this week to be with you all and enjoy that field with my friends. Rickwood’s been part of my life for all of my life. Since I was a kid. It was just ‘around the corner there’ from Fairfield [the town where Mays went to high school], and it felt like it had been there forever. Like a church. The first big thing I ever put my mind to was to play at Rickwood Field. It wasn’t a dream. It was something I was going to do. I was going to work hard to be one of the Birmingham Black Barons and play ball at Rickwood Field. That’s what I did. It was my start. My first job. You never forget that. Rickwood Field is where I played my first home game, and playing there was IT — everything I wanted. “

I should end with this benediction, which I’ve used before. Say Hey (The Willie Mays Song) – The Treniers

RIP, Trina Robbins (1938-2024)

The Way We Wore

According to my diary, I met Trina Robbins, Steve Leialoha, and Scott Shaw! at the San Digo Comic Con on August 6, 1987. I didn’t write anything about the encounter except that it was “nice.”

But maybe I was a bit starstruck because I had enjoyed her work for so long, going back to Wimmen’s Comix from Last Gasp in the mid-1970s.

She also produced a four-page story called The Way We Wore for Gates of Eden, published by FantaCo in 1982 . In a previous life, she was a clothing designer.

While she did work for Marvel and DC, notably Wonder Woman, she was better known for working with “independent” publishers. Her body of work is vast.

But it’s not just the breadth of her work. As Mark Evanier wrote: “Beautiful…talented…important…I don’t know which quality of Trina I should start with. I’ll start with important. Trina Robbins was one of those cartoonists who did things that mattered. No one did more to elevate the awareness of and the opportunities for females in the realm of cartooning and comic art. And along the way she did not neglect the males; did not neglect anyone or anything worthy of attention.”

As the Forbes article noted: “Her unapologetically feminist take on politics and pop culture stood out among peers like Robert Crumb and S. Clay Wilson, and the experience left her a lifelong critic of the ‘boys club’ misogyny she perceived in such work.”

Documenting women

A 2018 piece in Vulture called her “the Controversial Feminist Who Revolutionized Comic Books.”

She and Cat Yronwode created the legendary 1985 tome Women And The Comics, the “first attempt to document the careers of the hundreds of women who have created and worked in the field of comic strips, comic books and cartooning. The Women whose work is showcased in this book have been long overlooked or ignored by most other histories of comics.”

From the New York Times: “She also wrote more than a dozen prose books, including Pretty in Ink: North American Women Cartoonists 1896-2013 (2013) and Flapper Queens: Women Cartoonists of the Jazz Age (2020). ‘Trina didn’t just support women,’ Shary Flenniken, who created the ‘Trots and Bonnie’ strip for National Lampoon, said in an interview, ‘she unearthed the history of all these women cartoonists who had never been talked about.'”

The most recent comics-related item I purchased was the crowdfunded Won’t Back Down. “Comics legend Trina Robbins is fighting the rogue Supreme Court with over 30 storytellers from all around the world to publish a pro-choice anthology. Proceeds will be donated to Planned Parenthood.”

I read a lot of the many comments about Trina on Facebook. Many shared the sentiment, “I thought she’d be here forever.

EQ

Among the most interesting was from Wendy Pini, co-creator of the comic book Elfquest. “Were Trina and I friends? That’s hard to say. Not once in all the years we knew each other did we really understand each other. We didn’t ‘get’ or even really like each others’ artwork and writing. We didn’t inspire each other…. I was not her kind of feminist or activist, not a ‘joiner’ in most of the causes she cherished. Our life experiences and world views were, for the most part, very different.

“That said, when it came to today’s politics and speaking out on LGBTQ+ rights, Trina and I were very much on the same page. Her activism thrilled me and I sent applause when I could. She would pop up in my political FB posts from time to time – I was always delighted to have her chime in. Her voice carried weight. With her vast energy and drive, she was willing to get down in the trenches and get up close and personal with pro-woman movers and shakers… Trina could do that. She was a mover and shaker herself and an inspiration to many.

“I’m so glad Trina knew that I thought she was adorable. I honestly have no idea what she thought of me… Though we weren’t close, I loved her and I loved running into her, through the years, at San Diego Cons. She represented something powerful: a pioneer and a survivor. Outspoken, controversial, at times even rude… I loved her for all of that. She was funny. Just knowing she was keeping on keeping on was a kind of comfort, something to count on.”

Condolences to Trina’s longtime partner Steve Leialoha and their family.

Burt Bacharach (1928-2023)

Academy Award winner

The New York Times obituary for Burt Bacharach quoted the composer from his 2013 autobiography, “Anyone Who Had a Heart: My Life and Music,” written with Robert Greenfield.

“Mr. Bacharach suggested that as a songwriter, he had been ‘luckier than most.’

“’Most composers sit in a room by themselves, and nobody knows what they look like,’ he wrote. ‘People may have heard some of their songs, but they never get to see them onstage or on television.’ Because he was also a performer, he noted, ‘I get to make a direct connection with people.’

“’Whether it’s just a handshake or being stopped on the street and asked for an autograph or having someone comment on a song I’ve written,’ Mr. Bacharach added, ‘that connection is really meaningful and powerful for me.’”

I thought about that sentiment back in 2012 when Burt’s long-time writing partner, Hal David, died. His passing did not receive the notice I felt his body of work deserved.

On the other hand, Hal wasn’t “sleepy-eyed handsome and suave” or married to Angie Dickinson, the Rat Pack-affiliated star of the television show Police Woman. Burt was, from 1965 to 1981, helping him to be a star in his own right.

Bacharach acknowledged in the autobio that the split with David “was all my fault, and I can’t imagine how many great songs I could have written with Hal in the years we were apart.”

The Times article has several hyperlinks, which you should be able to play. Still, I’ll put a few here.

Award winner

From THR: ” Bacharach also won two Academy Awards for his work on Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969): best song for “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head” [BJ Thomas] and best musical score. He also won the song Oscar for “Arthur’s Theme” (Best That You Can Do) [Christopher Cross]” from Arthur (1981), which he shared with his third wife, lyricist Carole Bayer Sager; Peter Allen; and singer Christopher Cross.

“Bacharach’s compositions received three other Oscar noms, all of which he shared with David: “What’s New Pussycat” [Tom Jones] from the 1965 Woody Allen comedy; “Alfie” [Cher], the title tune from the 1966 Michael Caine classic; and “The Look Of Love” [Dusty Springfield],” from Casino Royale (1967).

“Bacharach later wrote and produced songs with Bayer Sager, including Warwick’s “That’s What Friends Are For” [with Elton John · Gladys Knight · Stevie Wonder], which won the 1986 Grammy for song of the year; “They Don’t Make Them Like They Used To”recorded by Kenny Rogers for Tough Guys (1986); and the theme from Baby Boom (Ever Changing Times by Siedah Garrett, 1987).

Okay, a few more:

Naked Eyes – Always Something There To Remind Me

A variety of songs from Variety, including, naturally, some by Dionne Warwick

Angela Lansbury: stage, screen, TV icon

The Manchurian Candidate

When I was crashing at my parents’ house in Charlotte, NC, in the spring of 1977, I went to the downtown library to watch the 1944 version of the movie Gaslight. It starred Charles Boyer, Ingrid Bergman, and Joseph Cotten. In her film debut, 19-year-old Angela Lansbury, as the young maid Nancy, received a best-supporting actress Oscar nomination. (Some folks did not know the meaning of gaslighting in 2013.)

In 2018, my family went to the cinema to see Mary Poppins Returns. In her antepenultimate film, she had a cameo at the end as the Balloon Lady. Her final film appearance was Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery, in which she played Angela Lansbury.

Her greatest film role was as the mother of a would-be assassin in The Manchurian Candidate (1962). Casey Seiler of the Albany Times Union newspaper says she was “absolutely perfect” in “one of the few paranoid political thrillers that haven’t been outstripped by reality.” Here are just three minutes.

One of my favorite parts, though, is her voicing Mrs. Potts in Beauty and the Beast (1991). Here’s Tale As Old As Time.

She received an honorary Oscar in 2013 for her career as “an entertainment icon who has created some of cinema’s most memorable characters, inspiring generations of actors.”

Cabot Cove, Maine

Of course, the performer was best known as Jessica Fletcher, novelist and an amateur sleuth in Murder, She Wrote. She appeared for a dozen seasons (1984-1996) plus four TV movies between 1997 and 2003. She received an Emmy nomination for best actress in a drama series for every season, yet never won.

As The Hollywood Reporter noted, the program was “a huge ratings hit on Sunday nights following 60 Minutes. Both CBS shows appealed to intelligent, older viewers, and Lansbury was the rare woman in the history of television to carry her own series… ‘Nobody in this town watches Murder, She Wrote,’ Lansbury, referring to the TV industry, said in 1991. ‘Only the public watches.’

“The show was ranked in the top 13 in the Nielsen ratings (and as high as No. 4) on Sundays in its first 11 seasons but plummeted to No. 58 when CBS moved it to Thursdays in 1995-96 against NBC’s then-powerful lineup. The series finale, quite appropriately, was titled ‘Death by Demographics.'”

LA Times quotes her: “What appealed to me about Jessica Fletcher is that I could do what I do best and [play someone I have had] little chance to play — a sincere, down-to-earth woman. Mostly, I’ve played very spectacular bitches. Jessica has extreme sincerity, compassion, extraordinary intuition. I’m not like her. My imagination runs riot. I’m not a pragmatist. Jessica is.”

I freely admit to watching the program regularly. Maybe, as one critic noted, it was an opportunity to try to solve the crime with, or maybe before, the author.

Theater!

As the Los Angeles Times noted, “It was her deep roots in the theater, and the many Tony Awards that followed that won the hearts of theatergoers and critics, who were often rhapsodic in their praise…

“Critic Rex Reed declared that she brought ‘the Broadway stage about as close to an MGM musical as the Broadway stage is likely to get,’ according to the 1996 biography ‘Angela Lansbury.’

“Her charismatic performance as the eccentric title character in a 1966 production of Mame vaulted her to Broadway superstardom and resulted in the first of her four Tonys for best actress in a musical.

“At 83, she tied the record for most Tony Awards won for acting when she received a fifth for portraying a medium in the 2009 revival of ‘Blithe Spirit. (Audra McDonald set a new record in 2014 when she won her sixth.)”

I saw the TV movie Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street in 1982, which was quite compelling. Her Broadway performances were undoubtedly even greater.

Here are Hollywood notables paying tribute to Angela Lansbury, plus A Critic’s Appreciation by David Rooney.