Kiss Me Goodbye

Something I heard recently reminded me of something else. As swiftly as a clap of thunder arrests and derails the mind for a split second, my thoughts were dislodged from wherever they'd been idling and deposited into the calm center of a bittersweet memory.

And that recollection led to another, and that's when I decided to tell you about it.

As I sometimes do during the day, I had all the televisions (kitchen, family room, master bedroom) tuned to Turner Classic Movies (they were playing suspense thrillers from the '40s ... film noir, as it were ... yum). Even so, I wasn't watching -- and was only half-listening -- as I busied myself with various chores.

There was little left to recover of the victims.

What unexpectedly pulled me up short was a snippet of dialog from The Philadelphia Story (the movie itself wasn't running as it was not of the genre du jour; it was a promo of some sort): "Hello, Red!" (Cary Grant as C.K. Dexter Haven) "Hello, Dext!" (Katharine Hepburn as his ex-wife, Tracy Lord).

With those four words, I was immediately transported to the summer of 2004.

On June 4, 2004, five young people -- a married man, his bride of less than a year, and three single men -- were killed while traveling on a summer ministry trip representing Crown College of the Bible in Powell, Tennessee.

Our daughter, Stephanie (2001), and her husband, Joel (2000), are graduates of Crown College. So is our daughter Audrey (2005) and our daughter Erica (2008). Our son Andrew is currently in his second year at Crown.

The five who died in the late spring of 2004 were traveling from a church in Jupiter, Florida, to another church in Haines City, Florida -- a trip of less than 150 miles -- when, without a flea's breath of warning, a semi-tractor-trailer crossed the center line and met their Econoline van head-on.

It was over within moments. The 15-passenger van was instantaneously engulfed in a conflagration so immense that afterwards, there was little left to recover of either the victims or their belongings.

Many of her timeless characters embody wonderful virtues.

The 44-year-old driver of the 18-wheeler was named Salvador de la Cruz ... Spanish for "Savior of the Cross." He survived the crash.

What could that tragic event possibly have to do with a few sprightly, tongue-in-cheek lines from The Philadelphia Story?

Allow me to connect those dots for you.

On June 5, 2004 -- the day the news reached us about the deaths of our friends in Florida -- President Reagan passed away. We love Ronald Reagan at our house; we watched every minute of his funeral and burial service. Many tears were shed. For days and weeks after these events, we all felt sort of numb.

At some point, on a warm and beautiful day, my daughter Audrey and I were relaxing in the sunroom, watching an old movie on TCM. The film ended and, as filler before the next one began, TCM ran its annual tribute to Hollywood actors, writers, producers, and directors who died the previous year. Among them was Katharine Hepburn, who -- ready or not -- had fused with eternity on June 29, 2003.

Let me point out here that, while I greatly admire her prodigious and incandescent acting ability, it is not my intention to glorify Katharine Hepburn. Although it may seem like it at times, this is not a tribute to her. I suffer from no illusions regarding the extent to which my core beliefs differ from those Miss Hepburn espoused; she was an outspoken secular humanist, an ultra-liberal agnostic, and an unrepentant adulterer.

Furthermore, for all her considerable beauty and glamour, Katharine Hepburn practiced, portrayed, and promoted androgyny to the detriment of generations of women and, indeed, society as a whole. (Several years ago I was given as a gift, and enjoyed immensely, the book Kate Remembered by A. Scott Berg. I highly recommend it for its affectionate, thorough, well-written, and non-treacly treatment of its larger-than-life subject.)

But if cultural literacy is important (and I believe that it is), Katharine Hepburn's huge contribution to the very best of American cinema cannot be ignored or underestimated. And why would you want to? Many of her timeless characters embody wonderful virtues embraced by mainstream America at the time in which Kate Hepburn lived, even if she herself felt free to shun them in real life.

Consider the wholesome precocity of her high-spirited Jo March in Little Women (1933); the impoverished gentility of her modest Alice in Alice Adams (1935); the loopy hilarity of her zany Susan Vance in Bringing Up Baby (1938); the stubborn idealism of her lofty Tracy Lord in The Philadelphia Story (1940); the trailblazing independence of her type-A Tess Harding in Woman of the Year (1942); the compassionate elegance of her forward-thinking Amanda Bonner in Adam's Rib (1949); the adventurous romanticism of her devout Rose Sayer in The African Queen (1951); the cerebral femininity of her professional Bunny Watson in Desk Set (1957); the fierce devotion of her loyal Christina Drayton in Guess Who's Coming To Dinner (1967) ... just to name a few.

I wish the extraordinary Kate Hepburn had known it too.

For all her (I believe) misguided personal philosophies, during her long life Miss Hepburn made excellent use of her unique and undeniable talent. There remain many of her movies we have not seen, but the ones we have seen are among our family's all-time favorites ... and a standout among the favorites is Woman of the Year.

Which brings me back to that day in the summer of 2004 when Audrey and I were suddenly riveted by TCM's sentimental tribute to Hollywood luminaries who perished in calendar year 2003. The four-minute piece had debuted at the Academy Award ceremonies the previous winter.

Our hearts were bruised. We had shared in the grief of our friends' families. Although our belief in the reality of Heaven and its corollary -- the precious knowledge that we will see our friends again someday -- was (and is) sustaining us, we were hurting.

As the memorial montage progressed, to the music of Sarah McLachlan's heartbreaking I Will Remember You, Audrey and I were transfixed but tearless. Then I heard a sound from my daughter, and I knew the dam had burst. When Katharine Hepburn, eyes brimming, gave a little salute and delivered the famous line from Woman of the Year, Audrey drew her knees to her chin, bent her head, and began to sob.

Of course, I joined her.

We wept for the brevity of what had been, contrasted with the enormity of what would never be. Our tears were for all that we fully understood, juxtaposed so starkly against so much that we would never in this life understand. They were for the loss of dear friends with whom we had shared a common bond, and of an iconic and beloved President who came to his end after years of suffering.

And yes, our tears were for the loss of a stellar actress we knew only by name, gone down to old age and death, whose touching and insightful screen portrayals had given us so much joy.

The moving TCM montage we saw that day is embedded below this post. If you want to see what made us cry, you'll have to watch to the very end. The creators of the piece clearly felt they were saving the best for last ... and who's to argue? In Hollywood terms, I suppose that's the truth.

But in God's terms, and for all those who take Him at His word, the best is yet to come. Our five young friends knew this; indeed, they had staked their lives upon it. I do not believe she did, but in all my wishing, I wish the luminous and extraordinary Kate Hepburn had known it too.

I was sort of hoping that you'd kiss me goodbye. ~ Tess Harding

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints. ~ Psalm 116:15

Comments

[Skunkfeathers]

I can't say I was any kind of fan of Katharine Hepburn's, but I will grant that when Hollywood wants to, they can do a first-rate tribute to a departed legend, like no one else.

I've lived in a time of a lot of political mediocrity and worse, and with few exceptions, have not had the pleasure of living during a time of some of the greatest leaders our nation has ever known. But at least I can say, with unashamed pride, that I lived during the presidency of Ronald Reagan.

Now, I only hope to survive the presidency of Barry Soetero.

[Jennifer]

SF, I was just about to pop over to your blog and see you! I too hope we survive the VERY wierd times in which we live.

[Audrey]

Ahh, I can't stand it. It makes me cry every time! LOL! Very well written. The adjectives and embellishments are fantastic.

[Jennifer]

Sorry Audge! I should have named this post "Audrey Do Not Read!"

[Cheryl]

Oh how I loved Ronald Reagan! Katharine Hepburn? not so much.

Great post as always!
Big hugs,
Cheryl