Robin Williams is someone who’s career I (and a gazillion others) have followed from Day One. From his evolution as a manic comic of 10,000 voices to his film roles, from the loveable “Mrs. Doubtfire” to his Academy Award-winning role as Dr. Sean Maguire in “Good Will Hunting.”
Dotty Lynch was not known to the masses like Williams but was equally well known among those involved in politics and journalism. A research whiz on campaigns and for years at CBS, the first female pollster on a presidential campaign and a clarion for women’s roles in society and politics and voting, and a damn nice person.
Both deaths, as far apart in pop culture circles as they were, are being met with “it can’t be true.” Both are shocks. Both are huge losses to their families and friends and their chosen crafts. And both bring home the reality of mortality. One apparently died at his own hand; the other stolen from us by melanoma, in far too quick fashion. Both were only in their mid-60s.
In my first political campaign in Connecticut there was a lovely woman who volunteered every day. Her daughter often visited and told us about her husband, a comic, who just landed a new TV series. That series was "Mork and Mindy" and the young woman was Williams' first wife.
Dotty, well, everyone involved in politics knew Dotty. And I mean everyone. She was one of those nice people you get to meet in life. And smart as hell. And way ahead of the curve on women in politics. And, a mentor of young women too.
Huge losses. Huge reminders of our mortality and, in Williams’ case, the demons that exist behind closed doors and sweet smiles and a laugh-a-minute personality.
They both are missed already.