That's how I learned that Charlie Chaplin had died that day. He was at his mansion in Vevey, Switzerland, with most of his children and grandchildren and, of course, his wife Oona. That night he passed away in his sleep. I felt a sense of loss, having been a Chaplin fan for several years, even to the point of bestowing the middle name "Chaplin" on my son Gregg. (My daughter's middle name is "Michelle," named for a favorite Beatles song. So much for family tradition.)
This past week, while going through some "stuff," I came across a storage container stuffed with lots of Chaplin items: magazines, newspapers, photos, videotapes, press kits, etc etc. What I want to share with you today are two items from the New York Times, dated Dec. 28, 1977. The first is a news item about Charlie's funeral. Dateline is Corsier-Sur-Vevey, Switzerland. It begins: "Charlie Chaplin, the silver screen's impecunious tramp with a heart of gold, was buried today in the small cemetery of this village overlooking the Lake of Geneva.
"Rain fell throughout the brief, simple graveside service as the British comedian's wife, Oona, daughter of the late American playwright Eugene O'Neill, faced the coffin surrounded by seven of their children."
The article goes on to describe the events of the ceremony.
Across from this article was an editorial. Which is what I really want you to read.