Tuesday, April 28, 2026
Some Memories of Dean
While I first discovered Mr T. umpiring softball with the kids at Seely Place in the 1960's, and Joy I knew a bit as we were in the same grade, it would be a few years before Ira introduced me to Dean. It was a happy experience as I instantly recognized that here was an excellent and extremely fun fellow.
Dean was terrific on the piano. Since performing for me, singing and piano playing, his perfect rendition of Don McLean's, "American Pie," whenever that song is heard I immediately think of Dean. Dean worked on a few films for me in the latter half of the 1970's. For the bicentennial year production, Dean was the sound recording engineer on "Rip Van Winkle," and I'll always recall the struggles we endured in blocking out projector noise during dubbing sessions, as it was the first foray for both of us into sound motion picture-making. We attempted it first by having the actor standing outside on my parent's patio, holding the microphone, with the projector image visible on a screen in the dining room, seen by the actor through the sliding glass door. Not completely satisfied with that arrangement Dean suggested, "What about having the projector outside on the picnic table and the actress indoors," so we tried it that way. Dean also offered a suggestion about creating shadows high up on the trees of the figures bowling, in the night scene, and he ended up appearing in it as the shadow. Robert, meanwhile, played Henry Hudson's first mate, in the film.
It was Dean who suggested I attend Boston University, as he had already completed his first semester at BU's School of Law. Dean was an incredibly active individual who appeared to have little concept of time. I arrived at the University about a week before Dean, who drove up just in time to begin fall semester classes. He had with him a new alarm clock radio and an abridged Webster's dictionary my Mom had packed for him to bring to me at the residence hall. Anticipating his arrival that night, I met him in the lobby, and like the human magnet he was, a bunch of students followed him upstairs as we went to my room to chat. Everyone instantly found him interesting and compelling.
During our first weekend back to NY in September 1977, having driven down together from Boston, I fondly remember the Saturday night Dean came over to the house with Mark Anderau, and we shot the film, "Fantasmagorie," in about an hour, with Dean playing both roles simultaneously. It was great fun. Dean was actually a great film comedian and had he chosen that as his occupation, would likely have excelled at it . . . or really, at just about anything. All who knew him knew that Dean had a naturally, fine-tuned sense of humor, along with a great, infectious laugh. You knew something was funny when Dean laughed. He was fun to be around. Dean also worked in 1979, after graduating law school, on "Captain Squidd's Invitation," finding music and conducting some of the music recording, and his voice is heard making a wisecrack in the background in the clothing store scene.
Among his numerous talents was Dean's ability to engage in conversation with an extraordinary array of people--virtually anyone, and talk about anything. I recall one evening when he came over to see me and he ended up talking to my Dad for over two hours, in Dad's workroom, downstairs, as I was waiting for him upstairs. Now, no one was more politically astute or less easily impressed than Dad. After Dean left, Dad said to me, "Now that fellow should be president!" That said something!
After his accident 39 years ago, demonstrating a remarkable inner-strength, Dean managed to reinvent himself, while also remaining Dean, creating an entirely new life, an accomplishment perhaps few could achieve. It was, of course, made possible by the love and support of family and friends, and good insurance. I never knew anyone else like him, and perhaps there never was another. While a partially tragic story, Dean's was also a story of courage, determination, perseverance, love and friendship. He will be fondly remembered. I will miss you, friend! My thoughts are with his very fine family.
Peter Benson
