Steven Goldmann

I – and so many others – lost my friend Steven Goldmann today, following his long battle with cancer. We knew it was coming but then again, you never really know it’s coming. Until it does. If you look up “Steven Goldmann” in the little search box at the top of Facebook, you will see how much he meant to the world. I’d like to take a few minutes to add to those sentiments.

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We always joked about how crazy it was that a Jewish guy from Montreal and a heathen from the hills of Eastern Kentucky could think so much alike, but we did. We really did. Politics, movies, music, FANGORIA magazine. Whatever. We weren’t 100% on everything – he used to marvel at how much Ale-8 I drank and I used to marvel at how much time it must have taken him to get his hair ready in the morning – but we shared way more interests than you’d ever guess from our backgrounds. He was the first person outside of “back home” that ever stood up for my writing; I sold him the screenplay for THE RASSLER and even though that story like so many other great stories has never quite made it to the lighted screen, it was validation for me. It brought reassurance that I knew what I was doing. That meant a lot.

I worked for Steven for a year, and then I worked with him on myriad projects for 15 years after that, right up until his battle took its final turn in these last few months. He did so much great work. He was a real artist. He made movies (TRAILER PARK OF TERROR, BROKEN BRIDGES), music videos (Faith Hill, Alan Jackson, Shania Twain, among many, many others), and commercials. He loved stories and he’d do everything he could to tell them, in whatever medium would let him through the door just long enough to get a good hold. I’ve lost count of how many different ideas we kicked around, and I was just one person that he kicked them around with. There were so many others besides me, and I’m sure that’s because no one person could hope to catch all of the man’s creative energy in one basket.

But he wasn’t just a professional, and he wasn’t just an artist. He was a kind, intelligent, and generous man. He dreamed Big and he believed Big – I think I appreciated that about Steven Goldmann more than anything else – and when he talked about his dreams he had a way of making you believe Big, too. One of the last conversations we had, he wanted to take another run at a SEWERVILLE television series with me and Alan Brewer. Giving me more script notes, talking up the idea, lending it all hope. Of course he was.

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