It’s always amazing how most people go through life quietly,
secure with their own circle of friends, rarely touching the lives
of those outside their immediate circle.
Then there are those rare individuals who live their lives to
the fullest, often touching the hearts of people they’ll never
meet. In my book, Bob Hope was one.
It’s always amazing how most people go through life quietly, secure with their own circle of friends, rarely touching the lives of those outside their immediate circle.
Then there are those rare individuals who live their lives to the fullest, often touching the hearts of people they’ll never meet. In my book, Bob Hope was one.
Yes, he was an entertainer. His career choice meant instant publicity. A combination of having wonderful timing when delivering a line, a superb behind-the-scenes team of writers and the luck of being in the right place at the right time, Hope was a recognized face in the entertainment world.
But so are a lot of others. It was his willingness to put himself out, to go that extra mile, to use his celebrity for the good of all, that endeared him to so many. He refused to use his fame for political purposes. He may have had strong political opinions, but he never spewed them across the media. He may have backed several causes, but it was done quietly, behind the cameras. Bob Hope the person, kept his private life private.
During World War II, Hope started a love affair that would span the next five decades. He fell in love with entertaining the men and women who serve our country. At first, he was one of many performers called to entertain our troops. He was a big star, and it would have been perfectly understandable had he put in his time, then gone back to the security of working night clubs, television and films. But he didn’t.
When our service personnel went to Korea in the 1950s, so did Hope. He came with a troop of entertainers including the inevitable beautiful women, a ski-slope nose, a quick wit and a heart of gold. Not content to simply entertain the troops, he spent his downtime visiting those lying in hospital beds.
Often, the people who traveled with him marveled at his ability to ignore the gaping wounds and obvious suffering around him. Instead, Hope was able to focus on the patients, seeing beyond the IV bags, missing limbs and dying stares.
His goal was to bring a smile to their lips, laughter to their hearts. One by one, he touched as many souls as possible.
Vietnam was a war that divided many in our country. Yet, once again, Hope chose to ignore the political rumblings. Risking his own life, he made the trip to Vietnam, performing in some of the most dangerous areas of the war torn country.
Hope’s Christmas shows were especially important to those fighting an unpopular war half-a-world away. For a few hours, Hope and his entourage of talent brought laughter to the young men and women who were facing their own mortality.
After Hope’s passing last week, I was watching one Vietnam veteran who attended a Christmas show in the late 1960s. He noted that Hope was from a different generation.
He might not have gone to see his shows in the United States, but said that when Hope came to Vietnam, it was like someone was bringing a piece of home right to him.
His Vietnam television specials were always fun to watch, especially when he would surprise some unsuspecting soldier with someone from home. There was never a dry eye in our house when a soldier was filmed hugging a loved one.
Hope’s movies never won him the Oscar he coveted. As fun as those movies were, I think his strength was live performance.
He loved nothing more than bantering with another comedian on-stage, and occasionally throwing out great lines for the audience to pick up. Though most of us would be extremely nervous up on stage in front of thousands of people, Hope seemed to thoroughly enjoy what he was doing. When a goof occurred or someone came up with a line that topped his, he was usually the one laughing the loudest. His skits often made us laugh at ourselves.
I read a couple of books written by Bob Hope about his adventures. He said whenever possible, he would take an evening stroll.
If he was on the road, he’d walk the streets outside the hotel. Sometimes these streets were in dangerous neighborhoods but he said he never felt afraid. Once people saw who he was, they would approach him with their hands stretched out in friendship. He felt surrounded by friends.
Though Bob Hope has passed from this world, his work remains on film for generations to enjoy. What a wonderful legacy of laughter he’s left behind.
Cindy Brown is a Hollister Free Lance correspondent. Her
column appears every Monday.
