I was lucky enough to know Robin Williams and be exposed to his comedic brilliance—that unbelievable ability to freely associate on an any subject or topic introduced into the conversation—even weird or rare ones.
Here is how I met him.
The receptionist of the school where I was the Executive Director came in one day and said to me, “Anabel, there is a Marsha Williams on the phone. She is interested in placement for her son; however, she wants to speak directly to the director. I do not know why.”
“Okay,” I replied and I picked up my blinking line. I am usually open for an adventure. “Hi, this is Anabel.” The disembodied voice on the line began.
“I am Marsha Williams. I have heard a considerable amount of positive data about your school from friends; as a result Robin (and here is where I realized to whom I was chatting) and I would like to come and visit. We would like to schedule a private tour.”
“Hmm,” I replied. “I believe I can make that happen.”
“In addition, we have a very specific request.”
“And, that would be?” I asked.
Marsha then explained that because of the film, Mrs. Doubtfire, Robin was being inundated when in public spaces for requests for autographs. “Please, please, could he not be swarmed by teachers, students, parents, or administrators for autographs on shirts, hats, or skin?”
I replied that we would work with the children (and the adults) to the best of our ability—but there might be an exception no matter our diligence. Nonetheless, we would spend some time on the importance of helping the kids recognize the need for empathy in this specific situation. She stated that she could live with that commitment.
We set a date.
The excitement level at the school was unbelievable—but we did not call the press. The teacher/instructors had conversations with the children about how headliners often lost their privacy, but the Williams had children just like them and those children might like to come to our school. Wouldn’t that be fun?
The day of the visit.
As “head” of the school, the faculty had voted that I be the individual to lead the private tour. I, of course, was a bundle of nerves. This was a gifted man coming to visit a gifted school. What would his questions be? What would be his concerns? What privacy and safety issues might surface? I felt as if I was planning for my graduate exams—with multiple “unknowns” floating in the air.
Marsha and Robin were delightful guests. Robin, to my surprise, was extremely quiet and his questions centered on the emotional/social school life in which his children might participate. As we walked through the building beginning with the Pre-K classroom and then weaved our way through the upper grade classrooms, I was struck by the normalcy of the questions coming from the Williams. The items generated had a similar tone as those asked by many other visiting/inquiring parents. Here were two people who (although living in a hot spotlight) wanted their children to have a regular experience.
I was impressed.
We chatted. We laughed. And, at the end of the visit I walked them to their car in the parking lot. Upon arrival at their vehicle they “thanked me” for my time, shared how much they had enjoyed this experience, and stated, “We will read your marketing materials. We will analyze and discuss implications for the family. We will have to consider the drive from the city. We will be in touch.”
Inside, I thought they had already decided no. However, I thanked them for their interest, said what an honor it was to meet them, and that I looked forward to their decision.
I then turned to Robin and said, “I may never have this opportunity again and so I would like to ask for a favor.” I clearly saw a flash of disappointment in Robin’s eyes and face. I believe that he thought I was going to ask for his autograph. I was not.
I asked for a hug.
And, I got a HUG. Robin’s face lit up and I confess that I received one of the best hugs ever—one that took me into the air and I am no lightweight.
I will never forget that hug for it communicated many things to me about Robin.
It yelled—I care about people. Certainly, over the years we have heard consistently about Robin’s act of compassion. They included:
- Supporting our troops by performing regularly at USO events;
- Flying by private jet at his own cost to visit a girl dying of a brain tumor as requested by the MAKE-A-WISH foundation;
- Helping to defray the costs of Christopher Reeve’s medical expenses;
- Holding a dinner at his home and raising $20K for a school.
These are only a few.
In the end the Williams’ applied to the school and were accepted. We loved their creative children. And, moreover, Robin and I had a special agreement. He told me that each year—sometime when I would least expect it, I would get a hug from him. I treasure those five hugs as they validate his joy in the spreading of love and laughter.
While Robin and I never discussed the science around humor, I am sure he was aware of the following:
- laughter helps the pituitary glad to release its pain-suppressing opiates and contributes to pain-free sleep;
- laughter lowers blood pressure;
- laughter increases the response of Gamma-interferon and T-cells, which helps kill disease;
- laughter is a defense against respiratory inflections—even reducing the frequency of colds ; and
- humor-driven instruction leads to increased test scores.
I only wish I could have been there to give him a hug on that fateful day.
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