L.A. Latinos Mourn Death of 'Uncle Robin' Williams
Walking the streets of downtown Los Angeles, asking those passing by if they'd heard about the sudden death of entertainer Robin Williams, two phrases dominated people's reactions: "He was a great actor" and "a good human being."
Williams, a stand-up comedian and sitcom star in the 1970s who grew into an Oscar-winning dramatic actor, died Monday at the age of 63 in his Northern California home, the Los Angeles Times reported.
The Marin County Sheriff's Office announced Williams -- a longtime sufferer of deep depression and drug addiction -- had apparently committed suicide.
The star of movies and television for more than 30 years was found unresponsive at his home in the community of Tiburon around noon Monday, sheriff's officials said, and was pronounced dead at the scene.
The actor's publicist, Mara Buxbaum, told the media her client had been "battling severe depression of late ... this is a tragic and sudden loss. The family respectfully asks for their privacy as they grieve during this very difficult time."
The quickly-spreading news of Williams' passing seemed to leave all who talked to Latin Post in a state of sad disbelief.
"He did what? Omigod, Robin Williams," exclaimed Vanessa Calderon, 16, one of three high school students waiting for a Metro bus down the street from City Hall. "My parents were always big fans of his and introduced me to a lot of his movies. He was always so funny."
Manny Bravo, 18, himself an aspiring comedian, said he had long been "one of Robin Williams' biggest fans. I loved his work. I loved his persona both on and off the stage."
In fact, Bravo said, "when I was younger, I decided I wanted to be like him, I wanted to develop the kind of comedic timing that he had -- that only he had. Man, my head is like, still in a daze. It's shocking. Shocking."
Maria Ocampo, 28, a registered nurse also waiting at the bus stop, echoed what a majority of those interviewed about Williams said, that he had a way about him that allowed "everyone, from all races and ethnic groups to feel comfortable with him -- actually feel in some ways that he was a member of the family, or at least a member you wish you had," she said.
"To me, Robin Williams was a part of my family," said Alfonso Pinto, 51, a data analyst who had stopped by his favorite taco place along Olvera Street, or Placita Olvera, the city's historic first settlement. "He was really wacky when he came onto the scene in [the television sitcom] 'Mork & Mindy,' and I always thought that he just got better and better over the years. He was a favorite, non-threatening, comfortable character, like my uncle -- he was everybody's crazy Uncle Robin."
Named "the funniest man alive" by Entertainment Weekly in 1997, Williams had an over-the-top, manic delivery style that was a perfect match for his masterful command over improvisation, which gave audiences hours of laughter, whether they were seeing Williams on-stage or on the small or big screens.
Williams found Hollywood prominence in the late 1970s with his starring role in "Mork & Mindy," in which he portrayed an alien often confused by the ways of Earthlings, the show's comedy often based on the contrast between how Mork viewed the world and how things actually worked.
After the show, which was a spin-off of the then-popular "Happy Days," went off the air in 1982, Williams' emergent reputation for rapid-fire impersonations, free-form improvisation and a seemingly bottomless understanding of American culture from which he drew his brand of humor earned him a series of high-profile stand-up specials and numerous film roles, an appreciation for which Joe Ramirez, 48, a youth soccer coach sitting in a Chinatown noodle house a couple blocks from Olvera Street, said he only recently rediscovered through YouTube.
"Like a lot of my generation, I was a fan of Robin Williams in 'Mork & Mindy,' but over the years, I lost track of a lot of what he was doing," Ramirez said. "Then, one day, I was scanning YouTube for different videos, not looking for anything in particular, when I started watching some of his old acts and appearances on talk shows and what-have-you."
As a result, said Ramirez, "I kind of got hooked on Robin Williams again -- and I had decided I wanted to see him live sometime when I had the chance," he said. "Now, I guess that chance will never come."
In the 1987 film "Good Morning, Vietnam," Williams played a radio deejay who ruffled the feathers of his superiors with his truth-spewing, quip-cracking ways.
His energetic performance in the Vietnam War-era story earned Williams -- one of only two actors accepted into John Houseman's prestigious acting program at Julliard -- his first of four Academy Award nominations, which also included "Dead Poets Society" in 1989 and "The Fisher King" in 1991.
Williams won the best supporting actor Oscar for his performance as Sean Maguire, the therapist who counsels Matt Damon's math genius character in the 1997 film "Good Will Hunting."
Over the years, Williams was open about his addiction problems with cocaine and alcohol, personality flaws that Marla Jimenez, 40, a mother of two and herself an admitted alcoholic, felt made Williams "more human, like the rest of us." As well, Jimenez said, Williams' popular 1993 film "Mrs. Doubtfire," about a divorced father who dresses up and poses as a crusty nanny to get closer to his children, highlighted the actor's ability to "feel the pain so many others feel in today's messed-up world, where families are split apart by the courts without any heart, actually ... I liked him even more as an actor after that, because I felt a connection to his characters."
Williams, whose extensive voice-over work included the wise-cracking blue genie in the 1992 Disney animated feature "Aladdin," was instrumental is bringing some of the the world's most beloved characters to life, said Robert Iger, chairman of the Walt Disney Company.
In one of his last projects, Williams returned to television after more than 32 years to star in the CBS comedy "The Crazy Ones," which was canceled after a single season.
Williams is survived by his wife, Susan Schneider; brother McLaurin Smith Williams; children Zachary Williams, Cody Williams and Zelda Rae Williams; and stepsons Casey Armusewicz and Peter Armusewicz.
Said Alfonso Pinto, the data analyst found at his favorite taco joint along all era Street: "Robin Williams touched so many lives in such a good way. He set an example for everyone should be, as a person. He showed us all how to make the world a better place ... rest in peace, Uncle Robin."