Bret Harte Gone

I’ve just learned that, Bret Harte, a friend of mine in the local theatrical community, was killed in a car crash. A little more than a year ago, Bret directed me in a community theatre production of The Man Who Came to Dinner. He was an extremely affable guy, remarkably mature for his years, and he knew how to get a versimilitudinous performance even from my flamboyant ass. What mortifies me is that he was so young. Younger than me. Probably nicer than me.

In fact, Bret was one of the people who inspired me to write and direct Wrestling an Alligator.

Bret’s death reminds me again just how goddam cruel the universe is. He didn’t have to go like this. Didn’t deserve to go like this. So if you’ll excuse me if I refrain from posting for at least half a day, while I get over this, I hope you can understand.


  1. One other thing about Bret: Bret was directing a series of productions for a local church. Subversive as always, I suggested that he helm a production of “Inherit the Wind” or a courtroom drama along the lines of “The Andersonville Trial,” but preferably the former. To my great delight, he went with “Inherit.”

  2. I’m sorry to hear this, Ed. He sounds like a great guy. And of course anything I’m going to say is going to sound trite and dumb, so consider this a long-distance hug instead.

  3. oh, Ed, I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve lost a friend. Bret sounds like a wonderful person. I send my long-distance hugs and condolences as well.

  4. Thanks, folks. If anyone reading this knows Bret, the funeral service is tomorrow. Email me if you need the details.

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