RIP, Grace Lee: For many, you were our first

Our last two losses were hard, if not unexpected—but I didn't see this one coming.

Grace Lee "Yeoman Rand" Whitney, whose passing at home May 1 hit the web hard two days later on Sunday afternoon, was boppin' around the Vegas Khaaan landscape like always last August when I chatted with her for the umpteenth million time—perhaps most of all over the years while on set for Commander Janice Rand's final onscreen canon moment in Voyager's "Flashback" anniversary episode with George Takei.

But this week, my mind goes back to this moment, 17 years before that ...

...when we really first met, at a small convention in Dallas the summer The Motion Picture debuted (when everyone was disappointed that the TMP "trailer" so highly hyped was a non-event of ship stills "animation." Little did we know...). Yeah, she was a judge for the costume contest, and that's me afterward as my Tellarite in dress uniform, Dr. Ffalst—and this would be your typical selfie moment.

But our bonding moment that day was really more about this mood...

...when she was consoling me on losing out to not one but two sets of Rocky Horror babe-pair entrants, thanks to the otherwise all-male judging panel—and confiding that she had voted for me as obviously the best for anyone not acting on hormones alone. After sweating in the Texas humidity with that nose-putty pignose almost sliding off, delayed due to overflow to see the triler, her words were a comfort—but it was still the last time I ever went all-out and fully made up for a con masquerade. I had shared this pic before, but I had not shared the sentiment.

But hearing of Gracie's sudden loss on Sunday, checking it out with the Fresno Bee paper, and, again, soaking up the heartfelt words and memories so many fans online have poured out over social media everywhere… well, it struck me what so many of us first-generation fandom share: There's a good chance Gracie was our first.

Think about it: Before the Internet, of course, and even before the plethora of large well-run conventions... most of us in small towns and cities only read about our Trekfolks coming to cons in L.A. or New York, or Chicago. Our little "local" cons weren't about to afford Shatner or Nimoy—but, given pecking order and star billing, there was a good chance that a lot of small-time and start-up cons had Grace Lee as their first guest. And thus, she became the first "regular" that many, many fans ever met in person, chatted with, maybe grabbed a photo (from an actual camera), but at least came away clutching an autograph.

I've come to realize the past couple of days that, more than any other of her castmates, I have more Gracie stories stored up from both sides of the fan/pro demarcation than I'd realized. That also means, as sweet natured as she was, those same small and start-up cons could also be a trap: I know at least one instance when we bought her dinner, without her knowledge, when the host promoter smilingly sat at the table of the "guest dinner" but bailed on our bill.

But those are the exceptions to the rule. Gracie, much like Majel at her Lincoln Enterprises-turned-roddenberry.com table, was the epitomy of accessibility for her fans. Yes, star billing order drove that, but for small-town fans hungry for some "real life" contact with their favorite show in those pre-Internet, pre-saturation, and pre-'87 sequels days where it all began... well, Grace Lee was their first.

And from what I saw at Vegas 2014... she still was, for many.

All photos: Kevin Hopkins

Total disclosure, but more sharing: Gracie was actually my second, truth be told, after meeting George the year before—but I also remember, at that same Dallas convention, when we chased away those obnoxious singers on the millionth round of "Star Trekkin'" so she and her agent could chat with fans at her table in peace, as recorded in this Instamatic special (at right)!




Swift journeys, sweet, strong lady.

On losing Leonard: the first social mourning in Trek

I know it has been about seven weeks since Leonard Nimoy finally lost out in his battle with COPD.  On the 11th hour at deadline, official Star Trek Magazine held up a few days to include mention of his passing—and turned to me to do so. 

Very honored to do that, and very proud of the piece… especially from the angle of how, in 2015, we all experienced the moment and insight together: a real paradigm change, brought home by this central nexus in so many lives. And had we taken Spock for granted all these years?


STM's Issue 56 for Summer will be a full-on tribute issue in a few weeks, but Issue 55 for Spring is on newsstands now, with Spock on the cover of course... and this is how it opens:

Just one segment of the layout:

So long, Harve Bennett: Don't forget this savior of Trek

This is unbelievable, but in the midst of already reflecting and mourning the loss of Leonard Nimoy comes word that 1980s Trek film producer Harve Bennett passed away quietly near his retirement town in Medford, Ore.—a couple days earlier, actually, on Feb. 25. With no immediate family nearby and his current wife ill as well, news of his passing and the exact date was delayed getting out until DeForest Kelley biographer Terry Rioux got local police to check on him, then worked with Nick Meyer to get the word out in L.A.

I and others have long noted that Harve—as the guy entrusted with the leaner, meaner comeback from the production bog-down of Star Trek—The Motion Picture, and the guy who brought Nick to the franchise through the films of the 80s that cemented all future Trek—has to be on any short list of The Guy Who Saved Star Trek, of which there at least four or five by now.

But it's personal now, as Harve as producer of his big-woop smash comeback charge, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, also jumped at the chance late in retirement to talk to me on camera for my documentary, The Con of Wrath, about the meltdown mega-show moment we both unwittingly shared back in Houston, Texas just after ST II premiered. Harve's agreement to take part in my doc was one of the early check-marks that had to happen before I knew it would be do-able at all.

That sit-down over Memorial Day weekend 2011—where we shared local beers, at his insistence—was later confided to me by his wife to be his last-ever interview, a sobering realization. The Harve on camera is still sharp as we talk about not only the "Ultimate Fantasy" story but others as well from his career—Trek and non-Trek—but his fatigue grows even as he tells me he's okay to go on and on, each time I ask his permission. It's been hard to stay in touch since then, and now I know why.

Harve's story throughout Trek, much less his years running TV's "Bionic Empire" and pioneering the art of the TV mini-series, is well chronicled. His Emmy and other awards attest to that—but we took time that day to talk of smaller and equally amazing stories, as well. I hope to share some of those as well at the right time, too.

For all you did for Trek, Harve—and for all you shared with me that day, for posterity... safe travels, Admiral Bob. This will not be the last time we speak of or hear from you in this space... We will not let your legacy be unknown to those whose are still coming to enjoy what you brought new life to.