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In April of 2013, my then-girlfriend and I went to a local Comicon event with some of my friends from high school. The celebrity guests of the convention included the likes of George Takei, Neal Adams, Lou Ferrigno, and Ray Park. I greatly enjoyed a chance to meet Park, as did a college acquaintance who was a talented martial artist and aspiring stunt man himself.
We then spotted an older gentleman at a table near the end of the aisle. While the other celebrities had throngs of admirers fawning over them, this table was completely deserted, and the gentleman seemed a little downcast. Neither I nor my girlfriend recognized him right away, but we knew he had to have some kind of notoriety, having been invited to the event as a guest. We decided to head down to his table and talk to him.
The gentleman was Richard LeParmentier, noted for playing Admiral Motti in the original Star Wars: the Imperial officer infamously Force-choked by Darth Vader. I didn't recognize his name until he mentioned his role; I then realized who he was and was quite excited to see him. He seemed to brighten as we began to talk with him.
He chatted for quite a while about his experience as Admiral Motti and the legacy of his minor role in the film in pop culture. He and the crew never expected Force choking to become such a recognizable part of the franchise, and he was amazed to see so many references to the scene in other forms of media, even in the present day. He talked about seeing kids online recreating the scene--kids born years or even decades after Star Wars was originally released. He felt happy and humbled to have been part of something that became such a pop culture phenomenon, even if he wasn't immediately recognized for it.
While other guests were swamped with visitors and could only talk to each one for a few seconds, we were able to stay at LeParmentier's table and chat with him for several minutes. As we parted ways, I told my girlfriend how thrilled I was to meet him, and he seemed much happier than when he had been sitting alone.
LeParmentier passed away exactly one week later in Austin, Texas.
Sometimes I think about my legacy and the impact my life might have on the world around me. I may never know the full extent of that impact. But when I start to worry that no-one will care about or miss me, I think of the day I met the older gentleman at the deserted table near the end of the aisle.
Keep your chin up. Someone out there appreciates you.
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[Last updated: 2021-10-28]