Entre Les Murs

Chris Howard

I made a sudden trip back to Toronto last weekend.  A friend of mine, the husband of one of my best friends from high school, fell off his roof while adjusting his satellite dish.  For most people undertaking this in February would have been beyond foolhardy, but in Chris's case - as an experienced and respected film industry gaffer (here's his IMDB entry) used to performing miracles of electrical contrivance every day - I would only have said beforehand that it was perhaps a little unwise.

His wife used the web to tell his friends and colleagues about his coma, removal from life support, and eventual funeral details.  With more than 1000 members, the Friends of Chris Howard group on Facebook proved a very effective tool for getting the word out.  I don't know how many people there will be in the Friends of Miles O'Reilly, but it won't be anywhere near a thousand.

While many of those friends were in Hollywood and elsewhere in the film world, that many people and more attended the memorial service.  It was held in a sound stage at Filmport Studios, and was standing room only.

Chris was a person so warm, kind and gregarious that fifteen minutes after you've met him you want to say "oh stop trying so hard"; but eventually you realize there's nothing forced about it, that really is his personality.  Chris's sudden death has been an earthquake event, a revelation that solid things we take as for granted as the ground under our feet are insubstantial and ephemeral.  My closest friends are shaken and reeling; I can't imagine what this experience has been for my dear friend and her daughter.

posted 19.2.09