Monday May 16 marks the 15th anniversary of Jim Henson's death.
Where were you?
"Where were you" is something that is often asked about historical events. Celebrity deaths, terrorist attacks, natural disasters, etc. Everyone can relate to an event with their own story of how they found out about it. The mundane events we partake of incidentally seem unimportant, but it shows the importance of historical events that we can recall exactly where we were and what we were doing when we heard of them.
I was in fifth grade.
I was getting ready for school that wednesday morning when my mother poked her head through my bedroom door. Apparently she had turned on the news to find that the creator of the Muppets had passed away in New York some eight odd hours earlier. "Jim Henson died," she told me, somberly. I sat there for a minute, not knowing how to react. I'm still not sure how you're supposed to feel when someone you've never met, but who has meant so much to you, dies so unexpectedly. Numbly, I went to school, and it was all anyone was talking about. "I'm going to buy 'Ninja Turtles' when it comes out on video," my friend Josh informed me, "cause it's his last work, you know?" I didn't bother disputing that, though I knew there were other projects yet to emerge.
When a celebrity dies an untimely death, it's always sad. But Jim's death was so hard to accept because their was no cancer or plane crash to blame. It didn't seem to make sense, that he could just be wiped out by a treatable illness. I had been previously unaware that pneumonia could kill anyone.
After school I walked home the long way, humming tunes from Labyrinth and the Muppet Movie and even the theme from the Jim Henson Hour, which had been my favorite show. Once I got home, I cried... then prayed.
I also remember watching a tv special where the Muppets payed their respects to him. It was funny and inventive, yet tasteful and sensitive. The Muppets were trying to figure out who Jim Henson was, and Gonzo develops the theory that he was an accountant because he had signed their paychecks. At the end of the show they read letters of condolences sent in by children. It was very touching, and it gave me happiness that the Muppets had not died with him.
On monday, I'll be wearing a black t-shirt with Kermit on it.
Please join me in remembering an icon.
Where were you?
"Where were you" is something that is often asked about historical events. Celebrity deaths, terrorist attacks, natural disasters, etc. Everyone can relate to an event with their own story of how they found out about it. The mundane events we partake of incidentally seem unimportant, but it shows the importance of historical events that we can recall exactly where we were and what we were doing when we heard of them.
I was in fifth grade.
I was getting ready for school that wednesday morning when my mother poked her head through my bedroom door. Apparently she had turned on the news to find that the creator of the Muppets had passed away in New York some eight odd hours earlier. "Jim Henson died," she told me, somberly. I sat there for a minute, not knowing how to react. I'm still not sure how you're supposed to feel when someone you've never met, but who has meant so much to you, dies so unexpectedly. Numbly, I went to school, and it was all anyone was talking about. "I'm going to buy 'Ninja Turtles' when it comes out on video," my friend Josh informed me, "cause it's his last work, you know?" I didn't bother disputing that, though I knew there were other projects yet to emerge.
When a celebrity dies an untimely death, it's always sad. But Jim's death was so hard to accept because their was no cancer or plane crash to blame. It didn't seem to make sense, that he could just be wiped out by a treatable illness. I had been previously unaware that pneumonia could kill anyone.
After school I walked home the long way, humming tunes from Labyrinth and the Muppet Movie and even the theme from the Jim Henson Hour, which had been my favorite show. Once I got home, I cried... then prayed.
I also remember watching a tv special where the Muppets payed their respects to him. It was funny and inventive, yet tasteful and sensitive. The Muppets were trying to figure out who Jim Henson was, and Gonzo develops the theory that he was an accountant because he had signed their paychecks. At the end of the show they read letters of condolences sent in by children. It was very touching, and it gave me happiness that the Muppets had not died with him.
On monday, I'll be wearing a black t-shirt with Kermit on it.
Please join me in remembering an icon.