The late, brave James Rebhorn

It makes little sense, as I am backed up by about 30 rich ethics stories with more arising every hour, it seems, to publish this now, as it has languished forgotten in my files for almost a year. Yet I was watching “My Cousin Vinnie”—if it’s on TV, I’ll watch it every time—and I remembered that this was there, so I went to my computer files and read it again.

James Rebhorn was in the movie, you see. He was a good, solid, successful, working actor,  one of those familar and anonymous performers like Whit Bissell, whose face you recognize from hundreds of movies and TV shows playing fathers, doctors, bureaucrats, Congressmen, never in roles very large or central to the plot, always credible and well. In “Vinnie,” he played the prosecution’s expert witness on cars and tires before Marrissa Tomei stolethe movie. He’s the slimy Secretary of Defense who gets fired in “Independence Day;” he was Claire Danes’ father on “Homeland,” until he died last year.

James Rebhorn was a year older than I am today when he lost his 20 year battle with melanoma. Before he died, Rebhorn wrote his own obituary. It’s not a confessional or a stunt: it’s a genuine obituary, though it slights most of the career achievements that appeared in his obituaries published online and in various newspapers. I wonder, though, what he learned from the exercise. Having to write your own obituary must be terrifying, but perhaps only slightly more terrifying than writing it at all. What has your life amounted to? Who has made a difference in your life?  What are you proud of, and what really mattered in your life? What have you learned, and what do you regret?

And what will you never, never write down for all to read, because it’s just too painful to read yourself?

Writing your own obituary is an excellent way to begin a personal ethics audit. Unlike James Rebhorn when he wrote his just a few days before he died, you have time to change it, to learn from it, to use it as an opportunity for honest and critical self-assessment. It isn’t too late to be more honest, more fair, more responsible, more courageous and loving, a better son, daughter, sibling, parent, employee, boss, friend, citizen—a more ethical human being.

James Rebhorn’s obituary was written too late to help him, but it seems like he did all right. He also gave us another tool to be more ethical, and we all need as many as we can get.

Here is the obituary actor James Rebhorn (1948-2013)  wrote to sum up his life. Allow me to challenge you to try it yourself.

James Robert Rebhorn was born on Sept. 1, 1948, in Philadelphia, PA. His mother, Ardell Frances Rebhorn, nee Hoch, loved him very much and supported all his dreams. She taught him the value of good manners and courtesy, and that hospitality is no small thing. His father, James Harry Rebhorn, was no less devoted to him. From him, Jim learned that there is no excuse for poor craftsmanship. A job well done rarely takes more or less time than a job poorly done. They gave him his faith and wisely encouraged him to stay in touch with God.

He is survived by his sister, Janice Barbara Galbraith, of Myrtle Beach, SC. She was his friend, his confidant, and, more often than either of them would like to admit, his bridge over troubled waters.

He is also survived by his wife, Rebecca Fulton Linn, and his two daughters, Emma Rebecca Rebhorn and Hannah Linn Rebhorn. They anchored his life and gave him the freedom to live it. Without them, always at the center of his being, his life would have been little more than a vapor. Rebecca loved him with all his flaws, and in her the concept of ceaseless love could find no better example.

His children made him immensely proud. Their dedication to improving our species and making the world a better place gave him hope for the future. They deal with grief differently, and they should each manage it as they see fit. He hopes, however, that they will grieve his passing only as long as necessary. They have much good work to do, and they should get busy doing it. Time is flying by. His son-in-law, Ben, also survives him. Jim loved Ben, who was as a son to Jim, especially through these last months.

His aunts Jean, Dorothy and Florence, numerous cousins and their families, and many devoted friends also survive Jim. He loved them all, and he knows they loved him.

Jim received his BA at Wittenberg University and his MFA at Columbia. He was a member of Lambda Chi Alpha Nu Zeta 624, a life-long Lutheran, and a longtime member of both the AMC and ACLU.

Jim was fortunate enough to earn his living doing what he loved. He was a professional actor. His unions were always there for him, and he will remain forever grateful for the benefits he gained as a result of the union struggle. Without his exceptional teachers and the representation of the best agents in the business, he wouldn’t have had much of a career. He was a lucky man in every way.

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Source: Mademan