It Comes In Threes
It Comes In Threes
A week or so ago came news of the deaths of Darren McGavin, Don
Knotts, and Dennis Weaver. Three names from television, and also
film, if to a lesser degree. Death always seems to come in
threes. When this news came, is was death in three Ds.
Those three were of a certain age, a certain era, and there was a
certain link. They had in common weekly visits to America via TV
sets, over an extended period of years. They were three stars
often fondly remembered for their work on the small screen.
Last night came the news that Kirby Puckett died shortly after the stroke he suffered over the weekend. And this morning comes the news of the passing of Diane Reeve,
wife of the late Christopher Reeve. She was the Superwife who
stood by his side after the accident and until his dying day.
With both Puckett and Reeve one can make the example of richly
talented, exuberant, giving, loving people who lived in the spotlight,
ever in the public eye . . . whose lives were also marred by deeply sad
twists and turns. Fate played an ugly trick on them both, and
then seemed to follow through with another one, shortly
thereafter.
The three TV stars were near each other in age, as were Kirby Puckett
and Diane Reeve. They are two; one shudders at the thought that
Death Comes In Threes, and it can only be macabre or solemn conjecture
as to who might be the third.
For the moment it is best to think of the positive attitude of Reeve,
in seeking to solve the problems of paralysis and looking toward the
future that she did with Christopher Reeve, as well as her gung-ho
resolve to fight the Lung Cancer, althought the cancer took her within
seven months of diagnosis.
Kirby Puckett, whose next birthday would have been next Tuesday (along
with Billy Crystal, Quincy Jones, Michael Caine, and me), is best
recalled not only by that trademark smile of his, but also by reading
his own words. You can do that by viewing his induction speech, presented when he entered the Baseball Hall of Fame. He got into the Hall on the first ballot, and is the youngest HOFer to die other than Lou Gehrig.
Maybe Puckett and Reeve packed so much into their sadly too-short lives
that they make up the equivalent of three, and the adage can be cheated.
