What Patrick Stewart Gave a Boy Without a Father

Photo: Patrick Stewart / Facebook

Sir Patrick Stewart died on Wednesday, Oct. 28, at his home in Los Angeles. He was 86. His family said he died after a brief illness with Alzheimer's disease and Lewy body dementia, in the care of his wife, Sunny. I have read the news several times now, and it still lands somewhere I did not expect.

I never met him. But I grew up with him.

My Aunt's Living Room

In the 1980s and 1990s, I lived with my aunt. Some of my clearest memories from those years are of sitting in front of her television, watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, and watching Captain Jean-Luc Picard walk onto the bridge of the Enterprise.

I did not have a father in my life. When you grow up that way, you start looking for the outline of one wherever you can find it. You notice how men carry themselves. You notice who keeps his word, who stays calm, who stands up when it matters.

Picard did all of that. He was stern, and he was strong, and he was not afraid. He did not raise his voice to prove a point. He listened first. When he made a decision, he owned it. When he was wrong, he said so. And when something was unjust, he would not move.

As a boy, I did not have the words for what I was looking for. Looking back, I know exactly what it was. Strength, sternness and courage were the qualities I was missing in a father, and every week, for an hour, I watched a man show me what they looked like.

The Man Behind the Captain

I learned later that the steadiness I saw on screen was not an accident. Patrick Stewart grew up in a working family in Mirfield, Yorkshire, and as a boy he saw his father's violence toward his mother. He spent much of his life speaking about it, and working for organizations that protect women and children from abuse.

He did not hide where he came from. He turned it into something useful for other people. That meant more to me as an adult than any role he played. The man I admired on television had his own complicated story about fathers, and he chose to become the kind of man he did not have.

2020

In early 2020, Star Trek: Picard premiered. Within weeks, the world shut down.

Like everyone, I was living with a great deal of the unknown. Nobody knew how long it would last, who would get sick, or what would be left on the other side of it. The news every night was frightening.

And there he was again. Older now, carrying the weight of a long life, but still Picard. The same face of courage and strength I had watched as a boy in my aunt's living room.

I found it comforting in a way that is hard to explain. In a time when so much felt uncertain, it helped to see someone stand still and steady and remind us that decency and courage do not go out of date. For a few hours, I felt like that boy again, being shown what it looks like to hold your ground.

What He Leaves

Sir Patrick spent more than six decades as an actor, from the Bristol stage to the Royal Shakespeare Company to Broadway and Hollywood. He was a legend of his craft, and the tributes pouring in from his colleagues make clear how much he meant to the people who worked beside him.

But for some of us, what he leaves behind is more personal. He was a steady presence for a boy who needed one. He was a picture of the kind of man I wanted to become. And when I was a grown man facing an uncertain world, he was there one more time to remind me.

I am grateful for that. I will not forget it.

Thank you, Sir Patrick. Rest well.

His family has asked that, in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Johns Hopkins Alzheimer's Disease Research Center Fund.

Reporting on Sir Patrick Stewart's death and life is drawn from the Associated Press, BBC, The Guardian and USA Today.