In these many years since the explosion of the Star Trek universe, Gene Roddenberry has taken on a mythic stature. Not undeserved in some respects since his ideas have had a massive impact on TV and movies for the past 50 years. Yet, he was just a guy. Quiet, interesting, not a Hollywood type.
I met Gene in that slow time between the end of the Star Trek TV series and the grassroots creation of Star Trek conventions. Before the first Star Trek movie.
He had a speaking engagement at SUNY on Long Island and a friend who organized the event asked me to go with him to pick up Gene in Manhattan. Why he asked me, I don't really know. I suspect he felt that I might be able to engage Gene in conversation. My friend was too nervous to talk.
When we picked up Gene at a hotel in Manhattan, I got to meet Majel Barrett, Gene's wife, also known as Nurse Chapel in the TV series. She was a very engaging woman. We chatted for a while and she let us know she wasn't attending the event. As we got up to leave, she took me by the arm, pulled me aside, and said, "Take care of my baby." I thought that was incredibly sweet.
In the long car ride through New York traffic, I see why my friend asked me along. I'd been involved in a few small film productions, had acted in films and on-stage, and had started a small video production company after college. I started talking with Gene about the film industry, what his plans were, etc. It was during that conversation, that he hinted at something he wanted to talk with me about later.
The event was held in an auditorium where Gene talked about Star Trek and answered questions. He showed a blooper reel which put everyone into hysterics. He was comfortable laughing at his own creation which made me like him more. He didn't come across as an ego-bloated, Tinseltown phony.
Afterward, a huge Chinese take-out dinner materialized backstage. Gene and I started swapping stories over dinner. To this day, I don't know where a bottle of Wild Turkey appeared from. Was it delivered with the food? Do Chinese restaurants send complimentary bottles of Wild Turkey with large orders? Maybe this was a local custom.
My friend and a couple of the organizers chatted at one end of a long table; Gene and I started drinking the bourbon and had our own conversation going at the other end. Maybe because we were older, maybe because nobody wanted to try trading bourbon shots with us, the youngsters at the other end of the table didn't venture toward us.
At one point, Gene lowered his voice and leaned closer to me. He told me he was planning a Star Trek movie and was trying to get all the major actors from the TV series to sign onto the project. He said he was encouraged by the increasing interest he saw from Star Trek fan clubs and the early gatherings that would eventually grow into Star Trek conventions. He wanted to know if I thought there would be a large enough audience to support a major movie.
It's interesting, looking back, to recall how nervous he was about the project. Now we know the vast success of all the different Star Trek franchises, but at that time Gene was faced with a cancelled TV series and a multi-million dollar gamble to migrate Star Trek to the big screen. He was still nibbling around the edges of the project; the final studio greenlighting had not yet happened. I'd say the chances for the movie were fifty-fifty. We came that close (fingers pinched together) to never having The Next Generation, The Wrath of Khan, and all the other outshoots of the last 50 years.
How much did we drink? The Wild Turkey bottle did not survive. As I dropped the empty soldier into a trash can, Gene thanked me for my opinions and asked me not to divulge anything we had talked about. No problem. Unwritten rule: never betray drinking buddies.
Majel's baby was returned safely to Manhattan. I kept my mouth shut.
Promises kept? Check.