It appears that I'm not going to catch a break anytime soon when it comes to mourning surrogate fathers. Today, we lost Harry Anderson... a man who fully embodied kindness, generosity, humility, whimsy, humor, magic, and love.
Harry's father left abruptly when he was four, he began hustling with the shell game on the sidewalks when he was nine, and by fourteen he was helping his mom make ends meet doing magic in cafes and birthday parties and even the occasional bar or club.
I could write quite a bit about why he meant so much to me both as a kid and as an adult, but instead I think I'm just going to post these two clips and hope they're able to translate something in my heart that my words could never properly express.
I could write quite a bit about why he meant so much to me both as a kid and as an adult, but instead I think I'm just going to post these two clips and hope they're able to translate something in my heart that my words could never properly express.
Thank you, Harry. Thank you for everything.
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