Denver Bob - Gilligans dreams : the other side of the island

Sometimes, there are people who enter our lives and, almost instantly, it seems we have known them forever. Such a person for me is Dreama Peery Denver. Although I first met Dreama in 2008, there is the possibility that we at least saw each other at a much earlier time because she grew up not far from my hometown of Coalwood, West Virginia. Since the towns in our area are so small, I like to think maybe I saw her at a dance or a party in those youthful days. If so, I'm certain she was the center of every boy's attention, including my own, even though I did not know her name.

Our official meeting came years later when I heard from a mutual friend that the widow of Bob Denver was interested in writing a memoir. Since I am best known for writing memoirs, he wondered if I might help her. Of course, I knew very well who Bob Denver was. As a lad in Coalwood, I had watched him perform on our black and white television as Maynard G. Krebs, the beatnik in the comedy series The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis. Maynard was famous for running away when he heard the word "work" which, as a teenager, I thought was pretty funny. I'm not sure my mom thought it was all that funny since it seemed as if I turned into Maynard every time she had a chore for me to do, but I still heard her often giggle whenever Bob was on. His name became even more familiar during the run and reruns of the fabulous Gilligan's Island where Bob played the sweet but bumbling titular character. After that, I kind of lost track of him although I was vaguely aware that he was in various movies and television series. Whenever I saw him, I mostly recalled Maynard the beatnik and the fun and laughs he gave me when I was in high school. Still later, I heard he had retired to West Virginia, although why he was there wasn't clear. As I was to learn, the reason he had adopted my home state had nothing to do with retirement and everything to do with a noble struggle for the life of his son.

Dreama Denver and I officially met at the Hearthside Bookstore in Bluefield, West Virginia, when I was on book tour for a novel titled Red Helmet. Although she was obviously a lovely woman, my initial impression of her was that she was a bit forlorn. Although I had no real idea of her past, her eyes were luminous with heartbreak and pain but I also saw in those crystal blue eyes a great deal of determination and purpose. Here, I thought, was a woman of courage and character who had a marvelous story to tell. And I was right. I shook her hand and there was an instant connection between us that remains today, friends who have always been friends even when we didn't know it. Dreama believes that if her husband and I had met, we would have also been instant pals. I think she is right and I am honored by it.

Dreama told me a little part of her story that evening and through emails and phone calls, I gradually began to learn the rest of it. When she allowed me to read a few things she had written, I recognized that she also had a great talent for writing and if anyone was to write her story, she was the person to do it. My part was only to encourage her as she worked through the manuscript. Memoirs are not easy things to write, especially great ones. To write this one meant Dreama had to relive all the heartbreak and pain I had seen in her eyes the first time we met and to also use every ounce of the courage and character I had also seen there.

Happily, Dreama's memoir of her life and times is now written and it is indeed great. As might be expected, Bob Denver is at the center of her story but Gilligan's Dreams is vastly more than a tale of an actor caught up in the glamorous world of Hollywood. It is a story of a man, known for his ability to make people laugh, who found nobility in tragedy while keeping his sense of humor to his last, labored breath. It is a story of a strong and beautiful woman who was knocked down many times by events but picked herself up and kept on trying. It is a story of great emotions, of excruciating choices, of the terrors life can bring as well as the fundamental joys. It is also a story that everyone touched by autism must read, and everyone interested in the important truths brought forth by both painful and joyful experience should read. In short, it is the very human story of a man, woman, and child who endured and ultimately triumphed by finding, giving, and fighting for that tenderest and most often elusive of human emotions: love.

Homer Hickam, author of Rocket Boys/October Sky

Hanging on for dear life, I was watching the monitors beside the hospital bed so many monitors, tubes attached to every part of his body, endless blips and beeps, a cacophony of sounds I had been listening to for 6 long months, telling myself that these were the sounds of a life being saved, hopeful sounds; assuring myself that every blip, every beep I heard brought Bob one step closer to home. But now the sounds were growing fainter, diminishing right along with the hope I'd been clinging to for all these months as I fought alongside the man I loved, determined that he would live. Their faintness told me the end was near. Bob was dying.

I looked at the face I had loved for the last 28 years, the face that greeted me every morning when I woke up, the mouth I kissed everyday for all that time, the eyes, closed now, that had looked at me for most of my adult life with such tenderness it took my breath away, the earlobes I had nibbled, the nose that was uniquely Bob's, the dimples.

It was 6:45 in the morning as I stood there facing the reality that my life as I knew it was changing with every shallow breath he took. I looked at his peaceful face and tried to imagine this was the last time I would see it. I ran my hand down his arm realizing I would never again find comfort there. I put my face close to his, feeling the softness of his cheek for the last time. After a lifetime of firsts together, I was experiencing my first last with Bob.