I first "met" Jean in the early 90's via the telephone. Eventually we met in person and as was the case with Jean, you weren't a stranger with her very long. We met at several Mayberry events, culminating with an event in Grand Rapids, Michigan in 1995. I was fortunate enough to "direct" Jean and tribute artist Allan Newsome in the very first of what would become many re-enactments of the famous husband-beating convict and Floyd scene. I still have the script from that, signed by Jean "To my favorite director"...

After spending that week with Jean in 1995, the fan/star thing faded and we just became good friends. Since I was and am a local actor and director, Jean became very interested in whatever I was up to in the theater. We stayed in touch often. Whenever I was playing a role, or directing a piece, she was always there with advice, discussion, and insight about the project.

A few years ago I was playing "Big Daddy" in a production of "Cat On A Hot Tin Roof." I called Jean, and we discussed the role and the play. She shared an interesting story with me about the playwright Tennessee Williams. She said that once in the 1950's in New York she went into the famous actor's night spot Sardi's after a show. She said that she saw Tennessee Williams at the bar with playwright William Inge. As Jean passed, she heard Williams say to Inge "Why don't you just call the damn thing 'Picnic'?"

A funny story she shared with me was regarding her then young sons and their Cub Scout pack. As a field trip Jean had arranged to take the pack onto the set of "The Betty Hutton Show", a show that Jean was a regular on. When things started bustling around the set, Betty Hutton had such a foul mouth... well needless to say the boys got an education and more than they'd bargained for!

I, too, received a telephone call from Jean on Christmas morning on more than one occasion, and I exchanged Christmas cards with her every year. I spoke with her as recently as early August and she mentioned then that she had some health concerns. She wouldn't tell me what they were though - she didn't want me to worry. She knew I would have.

I was in the jungles of Haiti working at an orphanage when Jean passed. It wasn't until I returned to work here at home on November 10th that I was sitting in the employee break room and casually flipped open a copy of the Lansing State Journal and saw a blurb about Jean's passing. I sat stunned, with tears in my eyes. Part of me is stunned still.

When I saw the death notice Jean came flooding back to me on so many levels. I remembered the long phone calls, the stories she shared, and the many times we spent together. I am grateful for every single one of those. But more than that, I am grateful for all of Jean's performances. Thanks to those, I get to visit Jean whenever I want. I get to see her young, and happy, and smiling, and making me laugh. Thanks for that Jean.

It is my sincere hope and wish that Jean and Howard McNear are rehearsing that convict/FLoyd scene right now. I'm hoping that they want to get it just right before they show it to us when we get there. And we'll get there in only a moment.

So long, doll.

-Lyle