Three deaths in quick succession, one inevitably overshadowing the others, so let’s look at those first, starting with actor William Campbell, who merits inclusion not least because he is quoted in Richard Matheson on Screen discussing Running Wild (1955) co-star Mamie van Doren, who later appeared in Matheson’s The Beat Generation (1959). His mainstream credits include The Breaking Point (1950), Battle Circus (1953), Escape from Fort Bravo (1953), The High and the Mighty (1954), Battle Cry (1955), Love Me Tender (1956), and The Naked and the Dead (1958). But he is best known for his genre roles in multiple Star Trek series and two cult classics, Roger Corman’s Dementia 13 (1963) and the patchwork Track of the Vampire (aka Blood Bath, 1966).
Next, the body of actress and July 1959 Playboy Playmate Yvette Vickers was recently found in her home in a state of decomposition so advanced that she may have died as long as a year ago. Remembered primarily for playing sexy, adulterous white-trash vixens in Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (1958) and Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959), she rose above the mire with Hud (1963), and was later cast by Curtis Harrington (who described her in our interview as “a good friend”) in his genre films What’s the Matter with Helen? (1971) and The Dead Don’t Die (1975). She had reportedly become severely paranoid; when we saw her at a genre-film convention several years back, she seemed quite sociable, if dramatically heavier than in her (luscious) centerfold.
Finally, although I’m not normally the type to celebrate the death of another human being, as one of the many who were working in Manhattan on 9/11 (albeit not near Ground Zero), I do revel in that of Osama bin Laden. I recall so many things about that day: hearing that the first plane had flown into the World Trade Center, and envisioning some sort of little Piper Cub; watching from the roof of our midtown building as the second tower burned; the surreal walk downtown to the Alphabet City apartment where my generous friends sheltered me while I was stranded in New York City that night. I also remember walking back uptown the next day, seeing the poster for Schwarzenegger’s then-imminent flick Collateral Damage, and thinking, “Good luck with that.”
But most of all, I remember learning how terrified my daughter had been because, at the age of twelve, her grasp of Manhattan geography was insufficient to reassure her that I had been at a safe distance from the tragedy, and she apparently had a very tough time of it until things were explained to her. I hope she is reading this now and knows how much her concern meant, and still means, to me, and how much it hurts me to think that I had even inadvertently caused her pain, and how much love and pride I feel for her every day. And to all of those less fortunate ones whose fathers (and mothers and children and siblings and grandparents and neighbors and loved ones and friends) didn’t come home safely from that dark day, I say this: you are avenged.
I found your personal account of 9/11 very moving and I am happy for your daughter for having such a loving and caring father.
When I have read about Yvette Vickers a couple of days ago a chill ran down my spine. I can relate o feeling alone and forgotten after believing “much of the world loved one”.
I now know this was an illusion but it felt like it at the time.
Thank you for writing, what feels like, straight to my heart.
Thank you so much, dearest Maria. The sad thing is that stories like that of Ms. Vickers are probably much more common than we know or would like to imagine. I can only hope that even though we only know each other online, the good wishes of folks like myself will always remind you that you are appreciated. As for myself, I am exceedingly proud and fortunate to have a daughter who has already far outstripped my modest academic achievements (she’s graduating magna cum laude from Cornell on Memorial Day weekend), and is poised for an equally impressive professional career. So I can rest assured that I have done something right! 🙂
That anecdote about Yvette Vickers is terrifying and upsetting. How awful, that she could’ve been alone for so long with nobody knowing she was gone. Wow.
And yes, I am reading. 🙂
It really is a bizarre, chilling and sad story. I consider us lucky that we were able to see her in person before she became so reclusive, and that at least back then she knew how many admirers she had. Thanks for keeping up with my ramblings despite your hectic schedule.