Drew Williams

I am mid-flight right now and I have just received the news that Sir Patrick Stewart has left us. Modern technology is both an impressive and an extremely cold thing. Internet databases have already begun referring to him in the past tense. “Sir Patrick Stewart was…” and such a surreal sight hangs heavy on my heart. Patrick was a friend. Not a close one, mind you, but it was a friendship, an “acquaintanceship” perhaps, that spanned more than half my life. Ann Cook Calhoun was an extremely well published and well known Shakespeare scholar who also happened to be a dear friend of my family. A better way of describing our relationship is that she became something of a fairy godmother to me, taking an early interest in my education, both financially and academically. Ann and Patrick had been dear friends for many years (since their mutual involvements with the Royal Shakespeare Company) and she often told me that I reminded her of a young Patrick. Of course, I always thought the comment was her way of being encouraging. Once, when I was attending the graduate Acting program at Columbia University, Ann came to New York with my parents and took us all to see Patrick play Prospero in a Broadway production of “The Tempest”. That was the beginning of my association with Patrick and, in that one evening, I saw what an artist and a professional truly looked like. Flash many years forward, and you can imagine our mutual surprise at finding ourselves in the very small club of Enterprise Captains. Just… I’m not sure there’s another word for it but “bonkers”. Every time we saw one another, Patrick and I couldn’t help but marvel at this strange serendipity and how Ann, God rest her soul, would have been over the moon at this kismet. While I always thought that Ann had just been doing me a favor, I eventually realized that she really had seen something in me that would, for whatever reason, prove a connection to her dearest old friend. God, I loved her. Like I say, I didn’t know Patrick incredibly well, but I always knew him to be generous and gracious to a fault. Our first time appearing together as captains was at the network up-fronts in New York. I had arrived late because of my production schedule so I didn’t get to rehearse our bit on stage before we walked out to the lights and cue cards. Of course, I completely missed my mark and had to adjust which made the entire audience laugh. Patrick held his opening line, looked at me and made a gesture as if to say, “You good?” I nodded vigorously, which seemed to elicit another laugh and he nodded back as if to say, “Alright then.” Patrick had presence, generosity and good grace to spare, and along with an incredible intellect, he brought those qualities not only to Jean Luc, but into a lived integrity that made him an exemplar for lost, young actors looking for a way. I’ll always love him for it. I’m just sorry that was our one and only moment on stage together. Even our turn together in “Dr Strange” was pieced together in post. Why? Because he was shooting Star Trek: Picard” and they couldn’t get him off the set. Jean Luc was if not his first love, his deepest. Oh well. Perhaps in the next play, in the next theater, he’ll hold a small, nameless roll for me and I will carry that spear with delight. Bravo, Patrick. I will miss you dearly. Until next time… Engage.