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BRIAN NOLAN
Like many of us, I am not particularly skilled in dealing with situations when an acquaintance or friend is terminally ill. I just never quite know what to say, and so for the sake of making that seriously ailing person feel normal, I'm inclined to try to ignore the illness in its entirety. I tend to deal with that person as if everything is OK except for the fact that I might toss in a "hope you're feeling well" kind of comment, not expecting much more than the obligatory response of "things are all right." There's a part of me that really wants to be comforting, say the right thing, and be supportive. But I'm often torn, in that rationalizing the disease as a non-issue, I'd be doing all parties involved a favor. Surely the sick person must be exhausted talking about his ailments constantly, or at least he doesn't want to be reminded of his predicament all throughout the day. My philosophy was to treat the suffering person as if everything was absolutely fine and thus make him feel like a regular person, for a small prescribed amount of time that we would spend together.
But I realize that to a degree this was a mistake, especially in the wake of the news of Brian Nolan's passing. For those who didn't know Brian, he was the staff cameraman at CBS News "60 Minutes II." I had the opportunity to have shot with him dozens of times over the past several years. He was a solid, good natured guy. His work matched the spirit of his personality. He was also my contemporary and had children around the ages of my own. My error was that I never personally recognized his battle with cancer to his face, instead I took the passive, treat him normally, type of approach. I have major regrets having done this. What I wanted to say to him over the past six months was that I truly admired the way that he had been handling his battle. I would like to believe that I would have taken the same approach, but until you are as sick as he was, it would be hard to know how much bravery was involved to show up for work, let alone just get out of bed. But Brian made every effort to act normally. He showed up for work frequently and made it his mission to try and shoot every Charles Grodin segment that he could. It was a reliable shoot that he had made his own, the look and feel, and he took great pride in shooting those segments. But more importantly, he showed up to 555 West 57th Street, when he could have stayed home, perhaps depressed or miserable. He could have wallowed in his bed, or simply watched TV instead of making TV. But he chose a course that I truly respected...he came to his job and tried to act normal.
My biggest regret outside of his death is that I never told him these words to his face. I meant to. I looked for the opportunities, but I seemed to have let them pass. I was supposed to shoot an interview with him two weeks ago and I had every intention of telling him then...I planned on it. Sadly though, this was one of those days that he was suffering too greatly and was unable to come to the Broadcast Center. A replacement cameraman was hired but I had been looking forward to working with Brian. I really wanted to say to him what I have just written to you. When he was unable to attend that shoot, my plan was to scribe this email to everyone and send Brian a copy. Instead I wrote something trivial about espresso. I regret that I blew my opportunity to tell him that I felt for him but more importantly appreciated his decision to continue on as normal a life as possible. His decision to work, while it may have been important to him, was just as important to me. No one was ready to hear the news about his passing on Tuesday, he was too young and all the cliches that follow. But personally, I sure wish that he had more time...if not just to tell him the way I felt.