It's been five years since that day....the day we lost Nell Carter on January 23, 2003.
Here's a story that appeared shortly after her death that sums up our thoughts. God Bless Nell.
The words still don't come easy. They stopped coming easy at 11:43 a.m., Thursday, January 23. The day Nell Carter died. And though incapable of finding the words to describe this monumental emotion, the feeling was inescapable. We've awoken to a terrifying new reality. A reality without Nell.
At 11:40 a.m., the world was still decipherable. But then the phone rang. Caller ID told me it was Geoffrey Halstan Robbins, the vice president of the TiVonauts, an organization I founded two years ago devoted to the minute study of the television arts. His voice was hoarse, cracking. "Did... you hear?" he asked.
"Did I hear what?"
"I... she...," he stuttered.
"For god's sake, man. Spit it out."
"Turn on the TV," he told me, and he hung up. For a moment I just sat there. It's rare in life when one actually has the choice of not hearing bad news. Morbid curiosity always emerges victorious, however. A click of the remote, and there was her face. A voice was saying something... an unbelievable mélange of words....
"Nell Carter: Broadway actress, television star, found dead in her home this morning, apparently of natural causes.... She was 54."
Click. The channel changes.
"...'80s sitcom star Nell Carter discovered dead...."
Click.
"...saddened by the news of the Tony Award-winning actress and star of Gimme a Break!, Hollywood mourned the passing of...."
Click.
"...the death of...."
Click.
"...Nell...."
Click.
"...Carter...."
Click.
Blackness. And there I was--sitting dumbly in a quiet room. Instantly, everything had changed. Everyone, both great and small, now resided in a Nell-less world.
Nell Carter: Superstar
It's almost an insult to rattle off the resumé of someone as well-known as Nell Carter. However, with "background" also comes perspective, and by listing her accomplishments, perhaps our grief can be nudged one step closer to fond remembrance.
As a young performer, after a passing dalliance in the saucy cabarets and dirty backalley jazz clubs of the Deep South, Nell decided to follow her dreams to the big time.
New... York... City.
Sounds romantic, doesn't it? But Nell soon discovered the bright lights of the Big Apple also hid some bruises... as well as worms. Cold, hungry, and homeless, Nell was forced to do what no young woman should ever have to do: accept a role on the soap opera Ryan's Hope.
But Nell wasn't about to give up. She took that job and parlayed the experience into something different... an even worse TV show called The Misadventures of Sheriff Lobo. By this point, the average person would be considering seeking employment as a needle washer for heroin junkies.
But not Nell.
Nell persisted, and just when she thought she hit bottom... she fell even further by joining the cast of a Broadway musical. Sure, she won a "Tony" for her role in Ain't Misbehavin', but she probably would've happily exchanged the experience for a stubborn case of herpes.
Then, in 1981, a miracle occurred. She landed the role of a lifetime--as a black maid in the weekly sitcom Gimme a Break!, Nell starred as "Nell Harper," the wisecracking hired help for a cranky widowed police chief and his gaggle of premenstrual daughters. While her primary job requirement was to provide a womanly role model for the girls--offering advice on everything from tampon insertion to dealing with a bleeding IUD--she was also forced to sing those execrable Broadway show tunes.
Though Nell garnered an Emmy for the role, her true lasting accomplishment was something she never expected. She opened the door for other black actresses to play maids on television.
"But wait," I hear you cry. "What about Florence, the maid on The Jeffersons? Or Benson on Soap? Or Florida Evans in Maude?" Well, first of all, Florence was a black maid in a black family... so that doesn't count. And Benson was a black male... so that doesn't count. And as for Florida on Maude? Well... okay, that counts. But since it doesn't help prove my point, we'll ignore it.
And what exactly is my point? Nell Carter was a groundbreaker. She played a black maid working for a honky family... in 1987. Nell, along with the cast and crew of Gimme a Break!, was brave enough to ignore all the charges of "racism," and take us back to a simpler time... a time when blacks were treated as one of the family, and paid well for the privilege.
"Our fear of death is like our fear that summer will be short. But when we have had our swing of pleasure, our fill of fruit, and our swelter of heat--we say we have had our day."
You know who said that? Ralph Waldo Emerson.
"If I think more about death than some other people, it is probably because I love life more than they do."
You know who said that? Angelina Jolie.
While the Emerson quote is both lofty and poetic, it is defeatist. It is as if Emerson would tell us to ignore Nell's passing, as if she were just another season amongst eons of seasons. Therefore, he will be ignored as stupid.
However, Angelina Jolie--though she may be crazier than a bedbug wearing an Abe Lincoln beard singing "Come on Eileen"--hits the nail right on the head. Death is worth obsessing over. It's worth moping around, and crying, and then laughing, and being utterly speechless. And those who truly loved life--as Nell Carter so plainly did--are they to be so suddenly forgotten? And if Nell Carter is to be forgotten, then shall we also forget the Punky Brewsters, the Tony Danzas, and the Charles in Charges?
Shall we forget the Mr. Belvederes?
No, they will NOT be forgotten, and neither will Nell Carter. Because she wasn't just a fleeting summer. She was the crisp autumn, the snows of December, the tornadoes of March, the darling buds of May. She was an eon of seasons--and even though we were gifted with only six seasons of Gimme a Break!, that will never, ever be enough.
Words are condemned to fail. Memories of those we love are destined to live. And during this dark time of national mourning, we must remember that we've been given "the break" Nell Carter had always asked for--an everlasting summer of memories. Or at the very least, reruns.