One of the first times I felt the painful sting of death occurred the night of October 1, 1978. I had just celebrated a birthday days before, and my ninth year was ushered in by tragedy. Her name was Jamie, a beautiful young woman who had her whole life ahead of her. She was an artist and she loved the beach. I had known her for all of 15 minutes, including commercials. You see, Jamie was engaged to be married to one of my closest childhood friends, Joe Hardy. Yes, the season premier of The Hardy Boys dealt me quite a crushing blow. That Sunday night, my world shattered before prime time.
I was too young to see the warning signs: For one, the title of the episode — “The Last Kiss of Summer.” Plus, Jamie never appeared in season 2, yet, here she was in the season 3 opener, already the better half of one half of the Hardy Boys. And the telltale sign of all– Joe and Jamie opened the episode with a car scene–lovingly looking over at each other–a harbinger of doom in TV land. Any time there is a driving scene, there will be an accident. But the creators of The Hardy Boys knew how to stretch the drama. The death scene happened the second time the couple were in the car together–on the way from their wedding rehearsal, no less. Jamie and Joe were cruising down the coastal highway in a convertible, when the evil Jocco and his girl were drunkenly swerving all over the road. Jamie wasn’t the only casualty in that episode; something died inside of me that night.
I could not believe my eyes. How could the world be this cruel? How could two people so good looking and nice, with perfectly feathered hair, suffer such a tragic fate? My goal in life was to BE Joe Hardy (Shaun Cassidy)– never Frank (Parker Stevenson). Everyone wanted to be Joe. Solving mysteries, going on adventures, helping his brother and dad fight crime. I even thought he selected the perfect partner for us. Jamie was drop-dead gorgeous, wore a bikini like it was her second skin, and seemed like she’d never said an unkind word in her whole life. How could I go to school the next day? There was a death–and I needed time. So did the Hardy Boys, apparently–the episode was a two-parter.
That whole week I was haunted by images of the happy couple. I searched for the girl in the third grade who was most like Jamie–I wanted to know who I was marrying. But then fear would strike me. What if I found my true love and she was taken from me? The thought was too much to bear. My sadness overwhelmed me.
I wanted to be alone when I walked home from school. The warmer days of Fall allowed me to linger. I comforted myself by trying to sing the song that was played and replayed throughout the episode: “If” by the kings of seventies soft rock, Bread. Freakin’ Bread man, can you dig?
“If a picture paints a thousand words then why can’t I paint you? The words I’ll never know, the you I’ve come to know. If a man could be two places at one time, I’d be with you, tomorrow and today, beside you all the way.” PAUSE. Please note: these lyrics were written from memory. These were the words I sang in the hopes of recreating the emotion I felt for Joe, for Jamie, for me! I made up words to fill the gaps. Let’s remember, I couldn’t Google the song. Hell, I didn’t even know it was sung by Bread til I was in college and ordered The Best of Bread as one of my free cassettes when I signed up for a Columbia House membership–yeah, Columbia House–Google it.
I sang that song for the next five years, walking to and from grade school. It was almost Pavlovian–when I was by myself, walking up the hill from St. John of the Cross, the moment my foot hit the sidewalk at the corner of Thomson and Woodland, Bread would come out of my mouth. “And when my love for life is running dry, you’d come and pour yourself on me.” You’d love me so much–yes, you Jamie–that you’d come and pour yourself on me. Your. Own. Self.
And maybe you haven’t picked up on this, but the song tie-in is genius because it sings about painting a picture and Jamie–soon-to-be-but-never-will-Hardy WAS a painter. Do you see the nuances laden in this episode? No wonder it was on at seven o’clock eastern time–that’s when educated people settled down for a stretch of Sunday night television.
The following week’s episode was anti-climactic for me. Joe mourned. Frank swam with sharks. And the evil Jocco got his comeuppance. But Jamie was gone from our lives forever. The end of part 2, however, left us with a cheap ploy–Joe spied a girl on the beach who he thinks is Jamie. He starts running towards her white bikini, and I believed. For the length of a Hamburger Helper commercial, I believed that Jamie was still alive. That it was all a sick joke, a horrible dream. But when Joe grabbed her slender arm and she turned around, it was NOT Jamie. Just another pretty Southern California blonde. She looked at Joe eagerly, flattered by his attention. Yet, he was not ready to move on. Eventually, though, he would. I’m glad one of us was able to.
This is so good. What memories! Bread was one I completely forgot.
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Thanks, Allen. I’ve been singing Bread songs in my head for days now. Why does seventies rock make me so emotional? It was so different than what we listen to today–more authentic.
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I had THE biggest crush on Shaun Cassidy. I thought he was just grand. Thanks for the smile, took me back a long way in time.
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Thank you for reading, PLGCM:)
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This is classic DG fare. You were able to capture the innocence of nine-year-old Michael so beautifully that your childhood picture I remember seeing in a prior post came to life for me. I grew up on Hardy Boys books and Tim Considine and Tommy Kirk were my TV Frank and Joe.How lucky you had ‘feathered-hair’ versions AND Bread! This is an especially great job and I’ve savored every re-read. It’s rich and witty, bright and heartfelt and I’d have loved to have you as a little brother to console in your genuine grief for Jamie.
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Matthew! Thanks so much. I love how you will like a post and then come back to comment–I always hope the comment comes, and you never disappoint. I am honored to be your little brother in cyberspace:) Now I have to Google the Tim and Tommy versions of the HBs.
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I’ve been playing that Bread piece on the piano since I was nine years old! Didn’t catch that episode of Hardy Boys until earlier this year (thanks be to Youtube), but ah, it lends such an added poignancy now to the tune. Alas, I am a Parker girl. Shaun’s great, but Parker’s my buddy. Too bad he doesn’t know this.
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Love this comment. And who knows–he might just find out about your feelings. Anything can happen in the age of the internet:)
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You nailed this one. I remember wanting to be Sally Field when I was little. Not to be like her, literally to be her. As usual I want to comfort Little Boy Michael as I am reading this and at the same time I am in amazement of the things you bring to the surface of my past. Bread was a staple of my teen years and I too had the Best of Bread on cassette. I watched a whole season of The Apprentice just because of Bread. This was so good.
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Thanks, LIz. I love that you watched the Apprentice for your Bread fix. And you have the pluck of Sally Field–a good idol to have. Thanks for being there for “little Michael”:)
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Awww 🙂 Reading this reminds me that – just as we did – our children have their own rich, inner life which we, as parents, may not be aware of! Thank you, Michael.
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