My heart fell into the well of my soul today to learn that the icon himself, Ray Bradbury, has died.

He left this world for new adventures when, at the age of 91, he died this morning in Los Angeles. Word came via his family, and from his biographer, Sam Weller.

In a statement to i09, Bradbury’s grandson, Danny Karapetian, shared these words: “If I had to make any statement, it would be how much I love and miss him, and I look forward to hearing everyone’s memories about him. He influenced so many artists, writers, teachers, scientists, and it’s always really touching and comforting to hear their stories. Your stories. His legacy lives on in his monumental body of books, film, television and theater, but more importantly, in the minds and hearts of anyone who read him, because to read him was to know him. He was the biggest kid I know.”

Karapetian then added: “If you’re looking for any single passage to remember him by, I just picked up my copy of The Illustrated Man, my favorite of his books. The introduction is entitled “Dancing, So As Not to Be Dead,” and there are some great lines about death. My favorite:

“My tunes and numbers are here. They have filled my years, the years when I refused to die. And in order to do that I wrote, I wrote, I wrote, at noon or 3:00 A.M. So as not to be dead.”

Nicely put, Danny.

His stories sparked my imagination as a child. I would eagerly read The Martian Chronicles, Fahrenheit 451, and countless others. I would dream of visiting far off worlds; and bask in the pure adventure of a master storyteller. Then, years later as an adult, I would read them again and wonder at the pure genius of his vision and the social commentary expertly placed within the framework of the stories.

He was a man of extreme talent and one who would bring truth to the axiom of “often imitated, but never duplicated.”

He was a god, no- THE god- of science fiction. As such, he was an annual attendee of the San Diego International Comic Con; one who would attract swarms of fans and cheers from those fortunate enough to cross his path.

I was attending the 2010 SDCC with friends and colleagues and I knew that Bradbury was on the list of special guests. So it was that, just in case I was lucky enough, I had a 30 -year-old copy of Fahrenheit 451 at the ready for him to sign, and a million questions clouding my mind, ready to burst out and probe the mind of greatness.

But it was unclear, I was told, whether or not he would appear at the convention due to health issues; and if he did arrive it would only be for one day. I was saddened to hear that. It seems that the childhood dream would have to be put on hold.

So you can imagine the sheer joy and childish anticipation I felt when I was offered not only the chance to meet him, but to meet him one-on-one, and act as a personal assistant for a brief moment. It would be my task, along with a handful of his personal entourage, to escort Mr. Bradbury through the floor of the convention (something he did each year with a big grin on his face) to his scheduled appearance.

It was a tense wait, as even the morning of his arrival it was unclear that he would be coming.

When he finally arrived I left the staff lounge to assume my duties. There he was. My heart was pounding with excitement. He was a frail man, barely able to speak, and confined to a wheelchair; still, this finely-tailored man stood feet above me in sheer presence alone. His greatness of self overshadowed mere physical limitation. He was a master, and I was but a pupil. I was humbled.

As he was unable to speak well, my questions would have to wait; and I dared not press for my book to be autographed. And so we paraded through the floor, stopping ever briefly by a few booths. I remember vividly the ignorance of some in attendance who wouldn’t get out of the way at the sight of a wheelchair, flanked by assistants, making its way through the thick crowd. Never mind the fact of who it was in that chair, but just as a matter of decency and humanity. Still, I was pleased to see some who recognized this man and stood in thunderous applause as they helped make a path.

Thank You.

We arrived at our destination a bit early and were outside on a promenade, soaking up the warmth and sun of a hot summer day in San Diego. I just stood there, as the world around me ceased to exist. Every moment being captured in the ratcheting click of my mind’s camera.

I asked if I could pose with him and was as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning to be granted my childhood wish. I may not have his autograph, or answers to my many questions; but what I did have was worth so much more. It was priceless. Something intangible and special. A moment of time outside of time that I can only share in words and pictures. It was better than any childhood dream- it was pure euphoria. It was magick.

And so it was that I stood for this photo knowing in my mind, as well as in my heart, that I would never again get this opportunity. I knew that, sadly, his spark was fading from this earth. I didn’t grieve, though, for I was handed an unimaginable opportunity. An honor that would be cherished for as long as I lived.

I had released my book, Under a Sunlit Sky, just one month prior to attending the 2010 SDCC; and looking back at that time after hearing the news of Bradbury’s passing, I thought it only fitting to honor this man- this god of literature- as one author to another. The following poem is from that book. It is to you, Ray Bradbury, that I dedicate this on this dark day. But, tomorrow, the sun will rise, and new worlds will be created and shared by those who continue to write, inspired by the road you have paved.

Thank you, sir. Thank you.

“When Legends Die”

There are those who inspire greatness;
           There are those who are inspired by greatness;
                       There are even those who shun greatness.

But all would agree on the frailty and wonder of human existence and our ability to be all we are meant to be.

The gifts we give in life are as great as the gifts we leave behind.

The wonders of the world exist because of those who dared to dream and had the courage to share that dream with the world.

We all lose part of ourselves and the collective soul of humanity
               cries out into the cosmos-
                             When legends die…..

 

 

© 2012

R. Wolf Baldassarro/
Deep Forest Productions