Since the year is running down... one thinks of

people who were important in one's life.

And mentioning Bernie below.... well, he was my second father in many ways.

Most kids at the cinemas were afraid of him.

He was corpulent, had jowls like a bull-dog, and was formidable. He looked as if someone from the Mafia had sent him to GET you. He'd walk into the lobby of our main place, and if we were goofing off, which teenagers tend to do, he would put on a stern face, and say 'Party?' Us scared, 'Excuse, please' ' What is this, a party? Get to work.'

But his eyes belied him, and twinkled, can't explain it. He loved being 'skeery'.

Bernie was awesome. When I was sixteen, he took pity on me, and hired me to be an usher. And am the most impractical person going when it comes to being handy with tools. I had some head skills, and soon advanced, and became his assistant manager.

And over ten years, he treated me like a son. He'd go off golfing in Bermuda, and leave all the 'stuff' to me. Except the newspaper ads, those were his baby. I had the combinations to the outer and inner safes! And he would just go off, and I'd be all 'hey, we have to CHECK this first, and he'd say, 'no need'... And secveral days later, he'd come back, and I would have all the reports, and exact accounts of what went in and out of both safes.... (and even the chain owner didn't have access to the inner one!) and would say, 'Let's reckon up here...'

And he would SMILE at me so bemused, and say, 'I don't HAVE to, I know it's all in order.'

He was one of the most stupendous men I have ever had the privilege to know.

He had three daughters, one of whom was a nun, but went back into secular life and married, and one who was 'non-descript', and one who was sorta wild.... it being the Sixties, and actually, she wasnt wild. But fun.

He started off as an usher just when the Great Depression began, worked his way up, and led part of it in Pennsylvania, and told me the most amazing stories about promoting films, and meeting Jack Lemmon, and Shirley Maclaine, and how terrific they were personally.

And he got his plum, the NH part of the chain.

That cinema was a gem, and the last palace built before the Depression hit. And they wouldn't have survived, but the owner asked them to work for no pay for two weeks, and he would make it up to them, and he did. And they thrived.

And Bernie ruled it with a love and a passion for it, because, after all, he knew that history and had lived it.

And for some reason, he took me in an groomed me, and genuinely liked me as the son he never had.

He was a true prince among men... and caring, and... loving, and 'careful'.

He saw what I was going through, and would take me aside for a 'talk'. And tell me all about 'the third sexers'. Birds and the bees, but sorta fractured. And how he'd known so many in Philly, and it was ALL RIGHT, and they were OK.... (And me thinking, 'how could you RESPECT me...' ) I was so naive, and there are many wishes about what I should have said.

He tried so hard, and I blocked, turned beet red, and felt ashamed, and couldn't get a word out. But it kept me from killing myself. I wish I could have opened my mouf.

He told me about having sex with a girl in the auditorium, and the chandelier nearly crushed them.... It was huuuge, and they would crank it down to change light bulbs. He could be so funny, telling it much later in his life.

He just wanted me to relax.

If I have any regrets in this one... it is not having opened up to him.

He took care of 'his kids'. If they got into a scrape, he'd call them into the office if it came to his ears.... a bent fender, for instance, and open his wallet and say, 'Whaddaya need?' And the kid would be shaking in his or her shoes. 'Listen, this is a loan... you pay me back when you can.' And sure enough, come pay day, the kid would pick up his money, and leave some of it to pay it back. And he would ask, 'Are you SURE you can afford to do this much? I told you, pay it as you can.' And the kid would say, 'Oh, yes, Mr. H., I'm sure', and scurry out. Yeah, it sounds like 'The Godfather', but he was a good one, and the kids took the example of being responsible. He was like that.

It ended badly, as things in my life tend to do.

The owner died, his degenerate drug-addicted son took over, and the business went bankrupt in a year.

I was in Berlin on vacation, and talked to Bernie. He said, 'Listen, if you can find something, don't come back.' And I said, 'Never.'

So I went back, and held on as long as I could... until that Barstard John Shea gave me an ultimatum, and I WALKED. (His father was even more despicable, even though he did the authentification labels on the antiques Jackie Kennedy had bought when she renovated the White House, and he drove me absolutely into red-rage, internally... I spent 72 hours restoring antique chairs behind the screen NON STOP just so he could impress his rich friends one Christmas... and oh the coffee that one cost me....and never received so much as a thank you, let alone money. Bernie gave me some recompense, but I wanted it from that sick barstard.)

And shortly thereafter, left for Europe. And Bernie was stuck with the ruins, which he had never created, and shortly before retirement, was fired.

He had connections, but all he could get was selling tickets at a race track, where he had a heart attack and died.

I heard that the funeral was really impressive. A huge calvacade. Someone at the time wrote me.... ' amazing what free passes can do'.

I don't think so.

Bernie was very compassionate, and loved people.

At the time, he left a huge hole in my life.

And still does.

I miss yelling at him for only eating peanut butter as his main intake of the day... never ate anything else. He once told me his mother had said he was fussy about food as a baby, and peanut butter was all he would eat. So he stuck with it all his life. Pretty weird, but he was one of a kind.

So if it is end of the year, Bernie is on my mind, full of 'I wish', and 'Had I onlys'.

Remarkable.