The old man could barely walk…
I watched through the restaurant window. Far away, coming from the parking lot where we had left our car, came a man in a black overcoat with a gray hat, supported by a woman on each arm. Their progress was agonizingly slow. The man was ancient, thin, collapsed into himself inside the coat. They’re coming here, I thought. It must be a special occasion, taking whoever it was out to eat on a Saturday night. The overcoat didn’t make much sense, it being a pleasant evening in the 60s, but that’s the way some old folks are.
By the time they reached the door, they were joined by seven or eight others. My wife and I looked up at the brief commotion as the host greeted the party. The hunched man in the black overcoat turned to face us. Up close, I could tell he wasn’t old so much as sick and hurting bad. I also recognized him:
“Who’s that?” my wife asked.
“Dennis Hopper!” I said.
Maybe if I got out more, I could tell you who the other people were. I recognized one, Mike Reynolds (the earthship guy), then Dennis and the entourage moved on to the front room of the restaurant. I’d seen the man in movies all my life and knew he was dying, and there he was, passing 20 feet away. It’s a weird feeling, seeing some famous and close to death like that, like God is making a point. Why would you come here, travel so far in that condition, I wanted to ask–and then I realized I knew. (Maybe.)
We paid our check and walked out through the front, hoping to catch another glimpse, but were both too shy to stare.
Out on the street, the sun had just set. The air was mild, even balmy. We walked around downtown for several blocks, enjoying our first stroll without our heavy coats in months. Traffic was backed up from the Plaza light. The narrow sidewalks in that setting seemed exotic, Euro-esque. A family of tourists headed up the wrong street, where nothing was. A tall thin blonde woman led three companions to a great hulking silver Colorado SUV with blacked-out windows and drove off from the very spot where Indians shot the territorial governor full of arrows and scalped him in front of his family during the Taos Revolt of 1847. I wondered if she knew why she had parked there.
I saw Easy Rider (partly filmed in Taos) when it came out in ’69. At the time, I was teaching in a junior college south of Houston, and the violent ending of the movie landed a powerful emotional blow. The summary execution of Hopper’s and Peter Fonda’s characters by Louisiana crackers was all too real to me, not only because the Bayou State was just a few hours east. I remember visiting a hippie coffee house in the Montrose district that had previously been firebombed: a heavy military cargo net was draped in hindsight across the open entrance to ward off more Molotov cocktails! A few months later, the Ku Klux Klan would blow up Houston’s KPFT Pacifica Radio’s transmitter, twice in one year. It was a different world back then, and looking funny could get you killed.
Something about this feels like bookends on a major chunk of my own life. That’s all right with me, I’m satisfied. I’d like the rest to be quite new, though, however much there is.
UPDATE: When I posted this, I’d somehow forgotten that Dennis Hopper lived for a time in the ’70s in a neighbor’s house, very close to here. In fact, I can see it from my window, about 100 yards away. Another neighbor remembers when he came barreling up the gravel driveway one morning–feeling no pain, as the saying goes–so fast that he ran off the road into the sagebrush, nearly hitting her dog. Evidently he wasn’t sorry, and to this day she carries a grudge! Strange connections, all around…
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Touching meeting, saw him on the teev recently and was reminded of his great contributions. Thanks
You’re welcome! I thought people should know more, maybe some will follow the links.
Hopper used to keep a Cadillac in the car rental lot in ABQ where my cousin worked in the late 80s. He picked him up several times and said Hopper was a very cool, friendly guy.
He lived in, and owned-I think, the Mabel Dodge Luhan house. He has been in Taos forever, almost.
I looked it up and apparently he has prostrate cancer that is in a late stage. Sorry to learn this – I loved his roles in the David Lynch movies – esp. Blue Velvet – very creepy.
That’s right… and I’m sorry, too.
today is his birthday, apparently.