This year marks the twentieth anniversary of the release of 1994's STAR TREK GENERATIONS, an event that is more momentous for me than it might be for others. It was also twenty years ago that my father passed away suddenly. Oddly enough, these two events are connected. Not only did they occur within weeks of each other, but my dad should have been there in the theater alongside me, watching the new STAR TREK film when it premiered. Instead, the movie emerged as a bittersweet touchstone, now always reminder of this major turning point in my life and one that is special to me more so than for other fans.
When STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION premiered in 1987, it quickly became a program that my family all watched together each Saturday. My parents had been casual fans of the original 1960's series and the movies that began a decade later. I say casual, in that for mom and dad it existed primarily as viewed entertainment which they thoroughly enjoyed, but this never expanded out into the big world of TREK conventions, books, action figures or collectibles of any kind, though this would all eventually populate my world. In fact, my dad wasn't normally a sci-fi kind of guy when it came to entertainment, as he was mainly interested in the genres of war, spies and sports. Nevertheless, if the story and characters appealed to him, then he was all in, starships or not.
In Summer 1988 we moved from Durham to Rocky Mount. When the new TV season ramped up in the Fall, THE NEXT GENERATION was nowhere to be found on any of our local networks. It was a syndicated series and thus local stations had the option of whether or not to add it to their schedules. My father actually penned letters to the editor of the Rocky Mount newspaper stating what a quality program this new TREK series was, how we as a family watched it together and that it deserved to be broadcast. I remember reading his letter in the paper, surprised that he went to such lengths, as I didn't realize it had meant that much to him. Maybe it was simply the fact that the show had become a weekly ritual for us. Maybe he just hoped to see more of the exotic, raven-haired cast member Marina Sirtis every Saturday. I'll never know if this had any effect on the TV station or if the wheels already were in motion, but fairly soon THE NEXT GENERATION was broadcast in Rocky Mount.
The series wrapped up in June 1994. I was home from college for the Summer, having completed my junior year at UNC-Chapel Hill. The 2-hour final episode was a much-anticipated event in the household. For me, it felt like the end of an era as the show's seven-year run had
accompanied me through high school and all but my last year of college.
Those years of major life changes were always brightened by the
presence of this series. It helped me personally and I loved that it
had been a constant companion for my family too, providing us memorable shared memories. When the finale ended, in beautiful fashion I might add, the
one consolation was the fact that the cast's transition to the big
screen would occur in November, only several months away. Funny enough, I recall my dad noting to me that THE NEXT GENERATION had actually eclipsed the original in his opinion, becoming his favorite. I think he might have found a kindred spirit in the learned, thoughtful character of Captain Picard (played by Patrick Stewart) and I can't say I blame him.
Finally at the hospital, I met up with my mom, who guided me into the emergency room. There were several nurses attending to my father as he lay prone on the table, seemingly unconscious. It was explained to me that he had suffered a brain aneurysm that morning while at home. Mom had been out shopping while my sister Meri had been upstairs, out of earshot and initially unaware that anything had occurred. As she cradled my father's head in her hands, my mom announced that I was in the room and urged him to focus on me. He was still so unresponsive, dazed yet almost trying to speak. I will never forget seeing that his pupils were now completely, strangely black. It's an image that still haunts me. He soon slipped into a coma and we all took up residence at the hospital, nervously awaiting any improvements in his condition.
I still wasn't convinced that he wouldn't wake up. I was pensive but not distraught. I remember not joining in with family and friends when they prayed together, but then I've always found praying difficult and uncomfortable. Looking back, I'm annoyed at my younger self for not participating for the sake of his father's recovery. Nevertheless, by Monday nothing more could be done to help. Each of us spent time alone with him, to say goodbye. The last actual conversation between he and I was by phone, around two weeks prior. In an ironic twist, this simple phone call now carries such emotional weight for me, an unexpectedly pivotal, treasured memory. It's as momentous as if I'd been chatting with the Dali Lama. I'm so glad I told my dad that I loved him before we each hung up that day.
I saw the movie three times that month in theaters, the last viewing with my mom. I didn't relay any plot details to her beforehand and it turned out to be a very emotional experience for her too. While the end credits rolled, we stayed in our seats and talked... about the film, my dad and wondering how we could all continue without him. He was so greatly missed in ways both small and large, even just wishing he could have joined us at the movies that day. His passing reshaped our family in a manner that required great adjustment. Growing older and further away from the days when he lived saddens me, since recollections dim. I realize my time with him becomes less than the time without him.
GENERATIONS might not be the most popular among the entries in the TREK film series, but it remains special to me, beyond what the filmmakers could have intended. Each day there are uncounted reminders of my father, including many movies, but this one in particular has become a time capsule for me, linked forever with everything I felt at his passing. At the funeral, I spoke of one consoling thought of mine - the hope that by being his son it meant some part of him might still be present in my every day life. I wanted to keep sharing with him what I saw, heard, read and felt. The parts of me which reflect him as a father I'd like to believe are the best parts of myself. And I hope he would be proud.
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