With a heavy heart, I read of the death of Fast & Furious actor Paul Walker. For me, Paul was more than a Hollywood movie star. He was also more than the producer of the documentary on the homeless in Santa Barbara, and my work with them.
He was a gentleman without the pretenses that too often surround the rich and famous. He was kind enough and humble enough to come to a book signing party for my novel, China White. He was also kind enough to be the featured guest at a fundraiser for Casa Esperanza for the premier of Shelter.
For the book signing, he arrived on a motorcycle — dressed down in blue jeans and a baseball cap. Of course, my wife thought he was incredibly handsome, but I remember his simple presence, one made without fanfare of any kind. I also remember his kind words about the novel.
Again, at the shelter fundraiser, airs and pretentiousness were absent. And again, he had kind words for my work with the homeless. I remember thinking that if anyone could be seduced by fame, it was Paul: Good looks, great personality, good man, wealth, stardom.
Yet what truly made him great was his caring for those without. The homeless. The poor. The mentally ill. Refugees throughout the world trying to survive disasters.
It speaks volumes that he died the way he lived. He died on his way to a fundraiser for his charity, Reach Out WorldWide, which aids those in need because of natural disasters.
Paul, and his business partner Brandon Birtell, were some of my teachers along my life’s path. Fame and fortune were not an excuse for these two men to not care. Caring for those less fortunate than them was a part of who they were. For Paul and Brandon, to live life without compassion, would be to live life without the centerpiece of who they are, of who Paul was.
May Paul rest in peace, knowing that he made a difference for those most in need.
— Ken Williams has been a social worker for the homeless for the past 30 years, and is the author of China White, Shattered Dreams: A Story of the Streets and his first nonfiction book, There Must Be Honor. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.