I watched a few episodes of the Crocodile Hunter in those first few months with Jareth when it seemed I lived on our recliner.
He was hugely enthusiastic and passionate clearly loved what he was doing, educating people about wildlife in his own unique way. It was never just a documentary with him, he made the wild hands-on and up close.
I can only say it's fitting he died doing exactly that. Some people you just know aren't going to die in their sleep. He wasn't hit by a drunk driver or something stupid like that. And, no, it wasn't even doing some stupid-seeming animal stunt like I think a lot of people expected him to die. He was stung by a stingray--just an accident while filming at the Great Barrier Reef.
But I don't have anything profound to offer. I never met him, although I would have liked to. He would have been a fun person to just hang with. Too many people never experience passion like that.
Thank you for not holding back, Steve. Maybe your next life will be something wild, too.
Posted by fictionman at September 5, 2006 07:49 AM | TrackBack (0)