President’s Message
I never cared much for the disco scene—although truth be told, I could be spotted sporting my groovy green polyester leisure suit on special occasions. (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, consider yourself fortunate.) At the heart of the disco craze was a fast-paced, formulaic beat that was tailor-made for choreographed dance floor routines, like those made famous in “Saturday Night Fever” by a young John Travolta. But the movie was much more than a display of fancy dancing. Its edgy urban theme combined with a brilliantly adapted score by the Bee Gees, raising the quality level of disco both in terms of musical style and lyrical substance.
But what does all this have to do with the B-W neighborhood in 2013? If we’re talking disco per se, probably nothing at all; however, I do see relevancy in the lyrics to one of those Bee Gee songs. “Stayin’ Alive” relates the story of a young man struggling to find hope amidst poverty, abuse, and despondency in the big city. A poignant refrain repeated throughout the song encapsulates the desperation of his situation: “I’m going nowhere, somebody help me care.” He needs a reason to go on.
So where’s the relationship to our neighborhood? Two words: Lee Pearlman.
His suicide in early August still haunts the community. A featured reporter for the Hollywood Star, as well as other local publications, Lee’s coverage of neighborhood issues and events was unsurpassed, mainly because he took the time—and lots of it—to attend the meetings and events he reported on. If he couldn’t fit it into his early-morning-to-late-night daily beat, then he would phone leaders of the various organizations, businesses, and governmental bodies for the inside scoop. You’d be hard pressed to find a professional who was more knowledgeable and conscientious about what he did for a living. But the overflow crowd at Lee’s memorial service was testament to much more than the outstanding journalist that he had become. Above all, it was a tribute to Lee’s humanity. In the course of his work, Lee enriched our lives with his welcoming smile, engaging banter, and wry humor. He might even break into song with an old civil rights ditty or sea chantey from his younger days. You looked forward to your time with Lee. In many ways, he was the prototype of a “good neighbor”—civic-minded, caring, fun. And yet, he took his own life. Why?
Upon learning of Lee’s death, BWNA Board member Aaron Good, who volunteers weekly to field calls at the Lines for Life Suicide and Addiction Crisis Line, responded from experience: “This is quite sad. People with depression don’t often show it.” Still, I wonder if there was anything I or anyone else could have said or done to prevent what happened—like taking the initiative to invite Lee over to our home, not as a reporter, but as a friend—letting him know we genuinely cared.
With the busy, sometimes stress-filled family holiday season approaching, Lee’s tragic end is a reminder for us to be on the lookout for signs of emotional distress in those around us—be they relatives, friends, or neighbors. Accordingly, on Aaron’s advice, we have added the Suicide Lifeline and Mental Health Crisis Line, Alcohol & Substance Helpline, and Military Helpline numbers to our “Links” page on the BWNA Web site (www.bwna.us). It’s another way of caring for our loved ones.
Mercifully, being a caring neighbor isn’t usually a matter of life and death. We can care simply by being friendly, by helping out while a neighbor is on vacation, by aiding the elderly, picking up litter, participating at community meetings etc. (Lee would have loved that last one.) So happy holidays, and thanks for caring.