It’s always tragic when someone dies before their time and don’t some people, famous or not, seem to affect you more than others. That’s how I felt today when I heard about the sudden, tragic death of Fast and Furious star, Paul Walker, yesterday in California. He was only 40 years old and that was too young to die. Yesterday, when he woke up, I wonder if anything felt different or if just felt like a normal day? I wasn’t that crazy about the Fast and Furious franchise, but I really liked his roles in Snow Dogs because it was the total opposite of most of his movies, and Takers, because he had a such a small role, but such presence, and that was the last movie of his I saw. Besides being one good-looking man, his acting had depth, kind of like a 21st century, James Dean; with a bad boy image, but a sense of vulnerability about him, and a private side (the real him) that he shared with those who knew and cared about him.
The irony of his untimely death, if there is one, is he was best known for playing a character who lived a fast and furious lifestyle, but yesterday, he was just a passenger on his way to an event for his charity organization, Reach Out Worldwide. There was obviously more to him than his movie star good looks. Besides being involved in charitable endeavors, he loved cars and made many personal appearances at car shows, and actually wanted to be a marine biologist. He even made a documentary about the subject for National Geographic.
Whatever the findings of the autopsy of Paul and his friend, he appeared to live a good life, doing what he loved, helping people, and having fun. He leaves a daughter behind and a host of people who loved him. He didn’t just make movies, he made a difference in the world and touched lives in his own special way. In the end, isn’t that what really matters? How many of us can say that? RIP Paul.