A CURIOUS VIEW: INTO THE DARK NIGHT WITH A LAUGH AND A CHEER: A TRIBUTE TO JOANN LILLY FUNICELL0

Many years ago when I used to go through one of my many severe bouts of depression, I used to go to a neighborhood park in Westwood or Studio City and sit on a bench, not far from a group of mothers who watched over their young children who were playing in the recreation area of the park. I never sat too close, and always with my back to the mothers and children, so they wouldn’t worry that I was some type of creep.

 

I always brought a book and pretended to be reading but anybody who walked by would know I was not reading but sitting there with my eyes closed. I would listen to the unfiltered, unpretentious, and unaffected laughter of the young children. Their laughter worked as well as any medicine I was on at the time, and after about forty-five minutes I would sit up and walk away and always think, “I have to remember to take my tape recorder next time,” but strangely enough I never brought a tape recorder and I sat on the benches in those parks many of times.

 

A few years before leaving lovely southern California, I used to go to the Smoke House restaurant in Burbank for lunch with my good friend Rod Lynch, his lovely wife Terri, JoAnn Funicello, and Gino…the elder statesman of the group.

 

Naturally, the gathering of this group was never shy about ordering a drink or two, and JoAnn’s unfiltered laughter throughout our gatherings was always a highlight. JoAnn was about 5’3” inches tall with a very attractive, simple, and innocent face like that of a child. She was very thin, and Rod would always force her to order a steak which she would obediently do. She would eat half the steak, and take the other half home.

 

After all, she was always too busy telling stories, laughing, listening to jokes and laughing some more. If strangers walked into the restaurant and heard the laughter coming from our table they would think, “My God, they’re having a lot of fun,” and they would be one hundred percent correct.

 

Shortly before leaving southern California, I stopped at the bar at the Smoke House to say good-bye to the bartender. It was after one of our lunches, and unbeknown to me, JoAnn, who I had thought left with Rod and company, tapped me on the shoulder and sat beside me. She had just had back surgery and she was in a lot of pain, but pain was never a good enough reason not to tell a joke she had forgotten to tell the group and have a good laugh and so she told the joke to me and we both had a good laugh.

 

Over the next 5 to 6 years, JoAnn and I kept in contact mostly through emails and a few times on the phone. About a year ago she told me she was going to have a lung transplant but before they would do the surgery she had to gain some weight. She gained weight, and they did the transplant but there were a number of complications. She was in rehab for a long time and had to learn many of the basics, such as speaking correctly but like a real trooper she made it out of rehab and was back at home.

 

We emailed each other a number of times after she got home, and then after a couple of messages I didn’t receive a reply. I didn’t think much of it because she had told me of a vacation her and her family were planning.

 

About a week ago my friend Rod called and told me JoAnn had passed away about a month ago. It was a shock and even though she had been through a lot there was always so much life to her… so much laughter and joy. It was as if the world had gone silent.

 

JoAnn Lilly Funicello during her career work at ICM, The Dick Clark Show, the George Lucas studios, and 20th Century Fox studio. She leaves behind her husband Joe Funicello, a daughter Jessica, and a multitude of friends.

 

A few days after I heard the news from Rod, I looked out my dining room window and for the first time in ages, I saw a group of children playing, laughing uncontrollably, and I simply closed my eyes and listened.