SUPERMAN FALLS

Christopher Reeve, adored by millions as Superman, is dead at 52.

This morning, I awoke to discover that Christopher Reeve, the Superman for my generation, passed away from heart failure at the age of 52. A quadriplegic after a horrible riding accident nine years ago, Reeve remained one of the most optimistic individuals and spirited advocates for the disabled. That his wife stood by him all this time was an inspiration. While I could not always agree on his political/medical musterings, I understood where his passionate fervor came from.

Reeve was one of those actors who occupied a special place in my heart, the reason for which is deep but absolutely unknown by me. I remember being darkly affected by his trauma nearly a decade ago and feeling a massive sense of personal loss after his injury. The only other time I felt such keen despair was at the loss of JFK, Jr., another for whom I cannot expain the connection. All I know is that something in me wholly identified with watching Reeve stand up for "truth, justice, and the American way" be that in the red and blue costume of "Superman" or in a tuxedo arguing for the evils of Hitler in Merchant and Ivory's "Remains of the Day."

Goodbye Chris. Thanks for being a super hero...