I never got the chance to meet Rosella Hightower, one of the Oklahoma Indian Ballerinas. Her public visits to her home state were infrequent. But I remember people like Freddie Franklin saying that she was one of the most beautiful dancers he ever saw.
I never met Michael Crichton, although I read many of his books. One of the first paperbacks I ever purchased was the screenplay for "Westworld," complete with an essay by Crichton on the making of the film, and how he and his crew cut every possible corner to bring the film in under its $1.1 million budget. The last book of his I read was "Disclosure," which I didn't much care for. The thing about Crichton was that, if the idea behind the story didn't interest you instantly, then the novel itself wouldn't hold your interest. The concept was everything. And when he had a great concept -- as he did with "The Andromeda Strain" "Eaters of the Dead" "The Great Train Robbery" and "Jurassic Park" -- Crichton could keep people turning the pages.
His work, in my mind, began to tail off after "Jurassic Park" because the ideas he wanted to pursue through his novels no longer had about them a sense of mystery or magic. Instead, he became a scold.
I did, however, get the chance to meet John Leonard. In 1990, Leonard served as the fiction judge for the Nimrod Awards, given by the Nimrod International Journal. I was asked to be part of a panel with Mr Leonard and the Tulsa World's book editor, Ken Jackson, on reviewing.
I remember Mr Leonard as a quite genial fellow, who treated me -- undeservedly so -- as an equal. But there was no one quite John Leonard's equal. He was someone who gave the impression that he had read everything, seen everything, and was able in an instant to bring all those things together to explain exactly why a particular book or movie or TV show was worth your time, or deserving to be dismissed.
I remember his passionate defense of the National Endowment for the Arts, at a time when that organization was under ever greater attack than usual. The work the endowment did, he said, was "all about minds," about broadening people's understanding of the world by making available to all as great a range of literary, performing and visual arts as possible.
I also remember that, in the brief informal chat we had prior to our formal presentation, Leonard managed to consume three cigarettes. I'm saddened that such a learned, passionate, and entertaining man has died. I wasn't surprised, however, to learn that he died of lung cancer.
