It was a rainy night in midtown Manhattan, and I’d just seen my friend Van Hughes in Hairspray on Broadway, in which George Wendt was also starring as Edna Turnblad. We went to a country bar near Penn Station, and Van brought me upstairs to meet George. I’d been a lifelong fan, so I was nervous and excited. George was by himself at a table, sipping on a beer, and I sat down and Van introduced us. Instantly I could tell George was about as down to earth as anyone I’d ever met. A true, genuine guy.
A couple minutes into our conversation two guys walked over from the bar and slapped two pitchers of Sam Adams down at our table. George said cheers and tapped their glasses and they walked away with huge beaming smiles. They left the two pitchers.
I stared at him and the pitchers gobsmacked, not knowing what to do, and all he said was, “Well, you gonna help me finish these, or not?”
So there we were, killing two pitchers of beer from strangers, talking about comedy, horror movies, beer, Cheers, performing on Broadway, the works. When he was about to get in a cab home, I asked him if he’d ever be interested in coming to one of my comedy troupe’s shows, and he said yes and gave me his email.
George kept his word and came to a show. Then he started showing up at other shows, of his own volition. We became friends. He stayed in my apartment while he finished his book. He performed with us in sketches for our comedy show. He crashed a wild clown party in my basement (that’s a whole other story, worthy of a full article in and of itself). Again, genuine. Fun. A true one.
It was George that recommended me to Stuart Gordon to play Herbert West in Re-Animator the Musical. I went out to LA for the audition and George let me crash at his house. Without that recommendation, I never would have met Stuart. I may not have ever moved to LA. I have George to thank for my entire career. 
George loved people, and he loved comedy and adventures. The phrase “young at heart” doesn’t do him justice. Right up until the end he was supporting weirdo indie theatre and film, always down to play, full of sardonic wit and a warm smile. In Edinburgh when we were touring with Re-Animator, I’ll never forget walking into a crowded very local (as in: tourists not allowed) pub at around midnight, and the throng of people parting like the Red Sea to let George go sit at the corner barstool.
Even halfway around the world, people loved George. And not because he was famous. Because he felt like family. And that’s how he made you feel, as a colleague, as a friend, as just some guy with a pitcher of beer in a bar… he made you feel like family. Generous of spirit, always with a joke at the ready, and as he used to tell me, always focused more on making his cast mates look better rather than stealing the spotlight for himself.
I literally found out about his passing probably half an hour ago, so forgive me if I’ve rambled a bit. Truth be told, I’m still in shock. But the main emotion I’m feeling right now is gratitude. Gratitude to be in his orbit for as much time as we had together. Gratitude for the lessons I got to learn from him. Gratitude for introducing me to the horror community, a community that I love dearly and can’t imagine my life without. Gratitude for that spotlight that he decided needed to go on me for a time. Doesn’t get more generous than that.
George Wendt was a good man. A kind man. Truly one of a kind.
George, thank you. From all of us. Here’s to you, pal.
