Over the next few days, weeks, we'll all have and cherish our various memories of Paul Newman, who died in Westport last night at age 83. Mine are indelible, beyond the big and small screen (yes, he had numerous roles on TV in the early '50s, famously including Philco's "Death of Billy the Kid," and in few and sparse appearances, he was one of the greatest guests in "Late Show with David Letterman" history; both were good friends. Also, "Empire Falls," the Fred Schepesi-directed HBO two-parter with Ed Harris and Helen Hunt, in 2005, which was his last TV role, I believe.)
One memory: In a town meeting where I live, where a debate over a hard-fought housing development was underway, in which someone planned to bulldoze over a thousand acres and install a hundred or so 10,000 square foot mansions amidst a rolling green 18-hole golf course. Those who sought to save the land from this predation knew their fight was probably hopeless and that the developer was effectively pursuing the town meeting because he figured it was good for public relations and that he fully expected to secure his covenants anyway, so what was the harm?
The fight seemed lost, when...out of the corner of my eye someone walked by. I noticed only the boots - spectacular western things with wonderful filigree of some sort and badly scuffed; this was unusual and I glanced up. There, by my side, was Paul Newman. He looked at the stage. He looked at the developer. He squinted. He muttered under his breath. He took a seat. And he watched, in silence.
About an hour later, Newman went to the back of the stadium (it was being held in a school), and asked to speak to someone involved with the effort to preserve this land. She told him of the plight, of the fact that the land was probably doomed, of the fact that the state and town had done nothing to save it, of the fact that the only thing standing between a vast development and one of the most beautiful places in the northeast was a small group of people who cared deeply about its preservation.
Newman said, "would half a million help?"
In one short, sharp and perfectly timed moment, Newman donated $500,000 to the effort, headlines across the state and indeed nation were secured, and suddenly the small group without a hope and a prayer had as we say, "momentum." The state and Nature Conservancy ultimately got behind the effort and the land was saved. As you're well aware, this was just a tiny act among a countless number performed over the years - his work in Bridgeport, Hartford and inner cities throughout the state is legion, not to mention "Hole in the Wall."
So today, I too mourn Paul Newman. He was a wonderful actor. Of much more greater consequence, he was an extraordinary human being. One of my heroes in gone. No doubt, one of yours is too.