An Enduring Personal Memory of Bruno Kirby

Before the death this week of Bruno Kirby (at a mere 57) fades from the headlines, I wanted to share a story about the guy that speaks to who the man was -- at least a bit. Back in a former life, I worked part-time at the large newsstand in Hollywood at the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Las Palmas Avenue. This goes back some 30 years to 1976, when I was just a college freshman.

Lots of famous folks would drop by the stand to get their trades, their L.A. Times, their obscure artsy publications and their girlie mags (brown paper bag, please). Kirby was one of the newsstand regulars, coming by at least weekly as I recall. While he was hardly a household name at this point, he was starting to build a rep, having already appeared in "The Harrad Experiment" and "The Godfather: Part II" as well as a bunch of TV episodic guest stints. But he seemed to have zero ego. He'd hang at the stand shooting the breeze often for a half-hour and longer with the nobodies holding down the fort at an outdoor news emporium, sharing stories, asking us about our lives, just being a guy.

For the two years I worked at the stand, I came to view Bruno Kirby as a friend. He'd address me by my first name and give me a hug whenever he came by and I was working. People would recognize him and he'd sign the occasional autograph with something of a shy shrug. But he could not have been warmer to me if I'd been a studio mogul. That made an obvious impression, if I can still remember it clearly three decades later.

Kirby and I didn't stay in touch. But I'd followed his career as I would have that of a pal. And I can't help but believe that he remained a good man and a class act who was quite obviously taken too soon.

Photo courtesy WireImage.com.