Recently, I've been co-writing the memoirs of a prominent Hollywood executive whose circle of friendships over the decades reads like a 'who's who' of the motion picture and television elite. I'm having a blast sitting with him hour after hour as he regales me with his personal stories of Hollywood's legends. There's only one shadow over all these fantastic memories. My friend is 84 years old. Almost everyone he has known in the most intimate of friendships is gone. He has his memories and they are a rich source of his satisfaction in life now, true! But he can't pick up the phone and talk to them or take them to lunch or join them on the tennis court or on the golf course. They can't plan a night at the theater or get together for dinner and cigars (as he did with George Burns every Thursday night for over forty years!) Every day that we work on the book together, I'm reminded of a powerful truth....Friends do not last forever!
We never know how long we have with our friends. For my co-author, most of his friends lived long and fruitful lives, leaving behind a lifetime legacy.
But I am reminded of a personal experience that was different.
I was a senior in college and directing my first television series, a weekly inspirational program called "Right Now" on the local ABC affiliate in Tulsa. Always on the lookout for talent, I invited a fellow student who was both a good friend and a brilliant classical pianist by the name of Todd Reaves to be on the show. Todd's incredible talent, coupled with his dashing good looks, made him a fantastic performer. We produced the 'live to tape' program on a Thursday night, as I recall. We finished the shoot and Todd hurried back to campus to study for an exam the next day. I took my two man stage crew, consisting of my present and past roommates at the time, Ken Smith and Phil Stetson, to dinner at the local Howard Johnsons. (An aside: I had to convince the producers to pay for my friends' dinner since they would have missed the dinner hour on campus. The Howard Johnson's late night special was all we could afford on what we were given to eat on...but no one complained!) Anyway, we had dinner and return to campus. There was a note waiting for me. My friend Todd never made it back to the university that night. He was only a block away from campus when his motorcycle was struck broadside by a motorist running a light. Todd was killed instantly. The program we had videotaped a few hours before became a memorial to a brilliant young talent and a dear friend whose life was cut short at 21. We never said goodbye!
One night my wife and I were at home going about a normal event-less evening, when the front door opened and our teenage son David stumbled into the entry hall, a trail of blood following him into the house. His motorcycle had clipped the rear view mirror of a passing car on the freeway. At 60 miles an hour, my son lost control of his bike and went tumbling across five lanes of speeding traffic. That he survived was incredible. That he walked in the door on his own two legs was nothing short of a miracle. Some 'mom nursing' and David was soon back to normal...still amazing when I think about it! It strengthened David's faith that God had an unfinished purpose for his life. He should have been killed or maimed for life! That incident reminded me how we never know from one moment to the next when we'll never see someone we care about again. What if I had not told my son that day that I loved him? What if a parting harsh word had been the last thing he heard from his dad this side of eternity? Thankfully I will never know! But the outcome of that night could have been much different.
I have one memory that IS a regret...an avoidable one. I share it because it may help you to be a better friend to someone sometime.
One of my dearest friends in Hollywood was Romain Johnston, three time Emmy-winning scenic designer for scores of award-winning television specials and national events. His work was incredible and he was a beautiful and generous person as well. Many years my senior, Romain and I shared a creative chemistry that grew into a deep friendship. Romain designed the sets for some of my best television shows.
One year, Romain designed a Billy Graham Christmas special that we filmed at the Air Force Academy and on locations around Pikes Peak in Colorado. Romain brought along an exquisite set of very large nativity figurines that he personally owned to use on the set. I commented how beautiful they were. A few weeks later back in LA, Romain showed up at my office one afternoon with a large box. In it was his nativity figurine collection which he insisted on giving me, despite my protests. That was my friend Romain. I think of him every year when I put up that Nativity scene in our home.
Some time later, I had a big television project coming up. Romain had committed to design the sets. One day he called me and, uncharacteristically, asked me to give the show to someone else! Then he apologized. His doctors had diagnosed a condition (he wouldn't tell me what) that would prevent his working on any stressful big project like mine for the next several months. True to Romain's attention to follow-through, he'd already called a good friend who could take his place and arranged for us to meet.
Several weeks went by. Then one afternoon that I shall never forget, I'm on the Hollywood freeway, driving back to my office. I'm nearing the Cahuenga exit, near where Romain lives in the Hollywood Hills. I think of getting off the freeway and driving up to see him in his studio. I knew he'd be there. He was always in his studio this time of the day if he wasn't on a shoot and these days I knew he would be home. I entertained the thought, then decided I should get on back to the office. I'd go see my friend on another day when I had more time...maybe next week. I passed the exit and kept driving.
Of course, next week there were other obligations and responsibilities and distractions, and the week after, and the week after that. Several weeks went by. Then one afternoon the phone rang. It was Romain's wife calling. He had passed away. I hadn't even heard the news. She was closing up his studio and knew I would want the drawings and models of the sets Romain had done for me over the years. My mind raced back to that moment weeks earlier when I had passed up the opportunity to go see my friend, at a time he probably needed to see his friends, but would never have asked. That also was Romain, not too proud, just too considerate of others to be a 'bother'. I never had the chance to tell Romain one last time how much he meant to me, how much our friendship had enriched my life and my work, to give him a hug, to say 'goodbye'. I live with that regret.
I have since determined that whenever a name or the face of a friend comes to mind, not to miss the chance to pick up the phone or write an email or just go see them. It may be a prompting from God that I need to make sure my friend knows I still care, that I want to be there for them, that if they're going through anything, I'll be praying for them. And if nothing is going on in their life, at least they will still know I value our friendship, and that's important, too! I've said this elsewhere, and it's worth oft repeating: At the end of the day our friends and our families are the most important things we have this side of eternity. Treasure them, nurture your relationships with them, never take even one of them for granted. They won't always be there...Friends are NOT forever!
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