Stroke kills Kirk Douglas - 24 years later

If that seems like a pretty flippant title for a post about someone who has just passed, I actually mean it as the ultimate sign of respect. I'll explain more a minute.

But first ...

I've had occasion to write about a number of senior citizens lately on this blog, and on the same night that Kirk Douglas died, I happened to watch a 95-year-old Cicely Tyson in Tyler Perry's A Fall From Grace, still going strong in a small role. I've also, unfortunately, had the occasion to memorialize some people who were taken before their time.

But hanging in the background of the elder statesmen and women I've talked about, there was always the eldest statesman: Kirk Douglas. He was the last remnant of a golden age of Hollywood that has mostly passed into history. (The last male remnant, perhaps -- this is the second straight day I've had occasion to mention 103-year-old Olivia de Haviland.)

Every time I thought of how old someone was, and how surprised I was that they were still alive, I thought of Douglas, now well past his 100th birthday, not acting anymore of course, but still around. Still able to walk and wave and smile and exist.

There was a time when it seemed all but certain that he would outlive his son, Michael Douglas, who was thought to be a goner when he was diagnosed with advanced cancer some years back. Somehow, the younger Douglas (now 75 years old) fought his way back from that prognosis and seems poised to make the type of run at 100 that his dad made. Those Danielovitch genes are pretty darn good. (Kirk was born Issur Danielovitch, way back in December of 1916. Michael never got a Danielovitch name, but he did get his father's stage name as a middle name.)

However, there was an earlier time when it seemed like Kirk Douglas could die before he even hit his 80s.

In late January of 1996, Douglas had a stroke, and it was a doozy. He was expected never to regain his ability to speak, but he bucked those odds. Still, he looked incredibly frail from that time onward, like it was just a matter of time before he would succumb.

It was, in the end, a matter of time ... a matter of 24 years.

In 2016, for the celebration of his 100th birthday, he was jovial and jaunty and able to walk into his birthday party under his own power. He had three more birthday parties after that, the last one just two months ago.

It's impressive to see a person in Douglas' shoes just keep going and going after there was every reason for him no longer to be around. And keep going he did, until Wednesday.

On a blog like mine, this should almost certainly be a remembrance of Douglas' contributions to cinema, but in that regard, he did not hold a special place in my heart. Oh, I always thought he was a very charismatic presence, but if we're doing the math, I only actually saw five films he ever made, if you can believe it, and one of those (It Runs in the Family) was after he had already had his stroke. Of the four others, Ace in the Hole was far and away my favorite.

No, Douglas was most interesting to me as a survivor, a determined bastard whose body failed him nearly a quarter century ago and yet he kept going. He kept living, because maybe life is all there is, and he didn't want to miss any of it.

Rest in peace, old lion.