12/15/22
Newsletter #189
The Crack of Dawn
When I was a little kid Detroit had 2 ½ million people living there and was the 4th largest city in America. It now has 650,000 people and is the 29th biggest city. In 1967 the Detroit Riots occurred, which was followed by “white flight” where all of the white people fled to the surrounding suburbs, as did my family. We moved 5 miles outside Detroit. We were now at 13 Mile Road, 5 miles from the now infamous 8 Mile Rd., which is the border to Detroit.
We lived in the beautiful little, woodsy village of Franklin. Six months after we moved in, the Raimi family moved in around the block. I was at the same bus stop with Ivan Raimi, who was a year older than me, and Sam Raimi, who was a year younger. We all became immediate friends, particularly me and Ivan. And I began to spend an enormous amount of time at the Raimi’s house. My parents were extremely uptight, whereas Celia and Larry Raimi were wonderful and funny and smart and didn’t give a shit what we did.
The two big movie fans in the neighborhood were me and Celia Raimi. After school I’d often go to Raimi’s house. Ivan would go into the living room to watch TV with Sam and Ted and various other neighborhood kids who hung out there. I would stay in the kitchen with Celia. She always had an impressive selection of baked goods. In my house, where my mother and two sisters were on a perpetual diet, there were none. So, Celia would give me a huge, awesome piece of cake and a cup of coffee, then tell me about the movie she had watched that afternoon on TV. She told me over and over again, “It’s the screenplay, Josh. Everything is the screenplay.”
Celia was devoted to the extremely handsome actor, Tyrone Power, and was his biggest fan. She wore a big pin that said, “POWER,” though if you looked closely in small letters above power it said, “Tyrone.” She commissioned local artists to paint portraits of Tyrone Power, which she displayed around the house. [as a historical note, Tyrone Power was long dead at that point, having died at the age of 44 in 1958, apparently during coitus].
Here is a quick depiction of Celia, who was a big lady with a loud, somewhat screeching, voice.
“You wanna know what Sam’s big problem is?” Humoring her, I’d say, “No, what’s Sam’s big problem?” She’d say, “Sam’s problem is he’s an idiot.” The next day Ivan’s big problem was that he was an idiot, and the following day, my big problem was that I was an idiot. I was proud to be included. Celia obviously loved me, and was constantly singing my praises. She was by far the biggest inspiration in my life.
Maybe 15-20 years ago I was sitting in the Raimi’s kitchen and Celia was plying me with delicious baked goods. She explained that Sam had this mysterious ability to charm people from the time he was young. Celia and Larry had season tickets to the Detroit Symphony, and one week Larry couldn’t go, so she took 14-year-old Sam. Celia explained to Sam that the white-haired gentleman seated in front of them was the former governor of Michigan. In 20 years of attending the symphony Celia and Larry had never spoken to him. Sam immediately reached out and tapped him on the shoulder. The man turned around and Sam said, “I hear you were the best governor in Michigan’s history.” The man nearly exploded with pride, saying, “I didn’t even know that kids knew who I was.” Sam said, “Oh, sure, they taught us that in school.” Celia said that for the rest of that man’s life, every time they saw him at the symphony, he’d ask, “Where’s that nice young man?”
I shrugged helplessly. “That’s why Sam has been so successful in Hollywood. He’s charming. He’s great at schmoozing. I’m not.” Celia shook her head sadly and said, “It’s worse than that, Josh. Not only are you not charming, you’re insulting.”
And a jolly good day to one and all.
The Crack of Dawn
Mr. and Mrs. Raimi attended every screening of everything we did. When I showed my God-forsaken film, "If I Had a Hammer," in Detroit they were two of the very few people there. Celia would occasionally call me and say, "You wanna go to the movies?" I'd ask, "When?" She'd say, "Right now. I'll be there in two minutes."
Hello Terry:
You're 82 years old, the enviornment isn't your problem, nor is it mine. There's enough clean air and water for us in our remaining few years. There's no fixing this problem now. The kids are screwed. But we lucked out, Plus, we got all the good music and movies. Just thank your lucky stars.
Josh