Barbara gave me permission to post her letter.
Dear
Mrs. Red Skelton,
I
was so happy to have recently come across the July 19th, 2017 Fox
News posting of The Red Skelton Museum of
American Comedy.
As
I write this letter to you, I feel as if I am that old woman who told the story
of the Titanic. A tragic beginning but with a happy ending.
Long
ago, December 3rd, 1961, within minutes from our home in Boardman, Ohio,
my family’s plane had crashed on the Ohio Turnpike. I was the sole survivor at
the age of 5 who received gifts as far as South America but there is only one
cherished ever since.
Red
Skelton of whom I adored as a child, took time to mail me a photo of himself
and wrote, “To Barbara, Best Wishes, Red
Skelton”. Those six hand-written words have meant more to me than gold!
Even the empty frame I found in my families attic decades ago was meant-to-be. For over half-a-century
now, I have held his personal gift close to my heart and thought of sharing my
story with you.
Your
husband, Red Skelton, the man who touched many, was truly blessed! In spite of
life’s challenges he had given me the will to continue on with courage, God’s love & laughter. He
also inspired me to become a young performing ventriloquist of which I still
have fun with when teaching piano with my finger puppets (Legato &
Staccato). My true love however was and always will be composing music.
A
few days ago as I was searching for articles of my past from what is now known
as The Vindicator (Youngstown, Ohio) . . . next to Red Skelton’s photo were lyrics
to a piano arrangement I had written in the mid 1990’s, “The Magic of Love”. A song, I believe(d), was meant for Disney only
to then be told they did not accept music outside their industry. I never found
that love yet the meaning still lives within and after reading your story
perhaps it’s time to try again.
Sometime
after 1984, Red Skelton had appeared in one of the theaters here in Columbus,
Ohio of where I have since called home. I remember feeling like a little girl
once again, sitting straight up in her seat, anxiously awaiting to grasp
whatever memory I could hold on to thereafter. All I remember though was what
always meant the most . . . as he stood behind the single podium, the lights
became dimmer and dimmer and he ended with, ‘Good night and God Bless’.
Funny
how life sometimes brings many circles to those we cherish or never knew. It
was a pleasure to have shared mine with you and reminisce of Red Skelton once
again J.
Sincerely,
Barbara
(Phillips) Siembida
August 5th, 2017
