Robin Williams, we'll miss you. He was a rare gem in a comic-lovers library, a mom's go-to DVD rescue and a journalist's ideal interview.
I ran into him after a press conference for an Agassi event years ago. He was on the dais, as in truly "on." A reporter's dream for those often dreary press conferences. After the lengthy press conference about all the future funds, buildings and events info, I ran into him, standing alone by a room service cart full of refreshments, in the cavernous MGM hallways that run under the hotel/casino.
He was quiet, arms crossed at his stomach, head down, small, sad, polite smile. I thought he had just received some bad news. He looked deflated, like he could use a hug. So I did. I don't know who was more shocked. I couldn't help it. He thanked me, bark laughed, patted my shoulder and I walked away, cringing that I had crossed into his personal space like that. He just seemed like such a nice, sad man standing alone in that dark hallway.
Hope this sad event sparks more, much needed, talk about mental health and depression.
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