Centuries ago, John Donne wrote, “No man is an island.” Sometimes I think we may run our lives in a fashion that we think we are an island. If we are blessed, we surround ourselves with family, friends and acquaintances, but are they really part of us and we a part of them?
There are those who seldom find their way from their self-exile on their personal island to actually share with others a sunset, a walk on the beach or watching a kite bounce in the sea breeze. In the mirror, sometimes I see the man looking back at me and wonder if he ever realized where he would be today. If the choices he made would add to the sands of an island exile or build bridges connecting him to the piece of continent making him part of the main, as Donne described.
Have I broadened the world of the little boy that once stood there in the mirror or have I simply augmented his isolation? Sometimes in life, though, moments occur, things are said, news arrives that reminds us solidly that Donne left an indelible footprint in the sand with his premise that no man is an island. No matter how isolated we may choose to become in life, in soul, and in mind, we are connected. In years past it was by letter and phone calls; today, our own private islands are equipped with an umbilical cord connecting us to the Internet. As I sit at my computer, I can check the status of “Friends” on numerous Web sites and stay connected to see what is happening. I can find out the latest news without even carrying on a conversation because it is all there to see in bits and bytes. Does that make my island more connected or less connected? I can sustain an illusion of being connected to hundreds of people now where before it was maybe a few dozen on Sunday at church or at musical events.
In recent days, I saw where this new technology helps me stay connected. While reviewing the myriad of sites where I stay connected, I found a note from a childhood friend desiring to right some perceived wrongs and wipe the slate clean. That served as a wonderful bridge to re-establishing connection.
Within the same day, sadly, I found myself looking at a photo that drained the sands of happiness from my heart as I realized a good acting friend was called home by a heart attack back in August. I had missed the news completely. He was a man who was a good father, good husband and a loyal friend – Francesco Quinn. I hope you recognize the name, not just because he was a famous son of a famous father – Anthony Quinn – but also because he was a good actor and, more than that, a good man.
I came to know him when he guest starred as Ramon Salazar on our show, “In the Heat of the Night” two decades ago. We began a friendship that did not come and go with the end of the shoot as so many seem to do. In our visits, we talked about our dreams and hopes for career and life. Though he was born in Rome, Italy, I remember one lunch that found us looking at our family roots in Ireland. Many years ago, I sat in a Los Angeles restaurant with he and his fiancé as they ironed out plans for their coming nuptials. His breakout role was in Oliver Stone’s “Platoon,” and he even acted with his father in films such as “The Old Man and the Sea.”
Many soap fans know him as Tomas del Cerro from “The Young and the Restless,” but there are numerous award-winning films and prime time shows that saw his talents. Perhaps it was the goodness within him that opened him up to playing so many bad characters in his roles. He often played a villain in TV shows, such as Syed Ali, a terrorist on “24.” When life brought me away from the acting world for a few years, there were a few entertainment friends who still kept the established connections. He was one of those, and I will miss hoping that in this life, our paths will cross in person again.
As I read the story of his passing, it was Donne’s words that came to my mind – no man is an island. Though time, space and life experiences had moved us both in different directions, I felt the sadness of knowing that his death not only diminished me but all of us. He created a foundation – the Francesco Quinn Legacy – to help troubled youth find opportunities in the arts. On its Facebook page, he said – “I was born into a profession in which my love of words, chosen with care for their meaning and nuance, was extremely important, not only to me, but also to the people with whom I worked. “What I’d like to pass on to my children is the thirst for knowledge. It’s something I experience every day that I learned from my father, He always taught me that no matter how long you’ve done something, you can always learn something new and be better at what you do. That thirst and that desire is something I would like to pass on to all those on whom I can have an influence.”
I pray many blessings for his three wonderful children, his wife and siblings. Visit the Legacy page if you have Face-book, I feel sure the family will share plans to expand his legacy for many years to come. Thank you, Francesco, for helping remind me that we are all connected in what we do in life. Are you living like an island or are you making a difference by being connected with others? Are there real people who you impact in a positive way with what you do? We only have one life; are you using yours to make a difference?
Randall Franks is an award-winning musician, singer and actor. He is best known for his role as “Officer Randy Goode” on TV’s “In the Heat of the Night” now on WGN America. His latest CD release, “An Appalachian Musical Revival,” is by www.shareamericafoundation.org. He is a member of the Atlanta Country Music Hall of Fame. He is a syndicated columnist for http://randallfranks.com and can be reached at rfrankscatoosa@gmail.com.