Bill's Story: The Fourteenth Episode

My first look at the island of Key West came in late September of 1982, when I was working for the U.S. Navy. It was my first working trip in a new job. I was on the island for about 10 days, but with our 12 and 14-hour work days I had very little time to tour. It would be nearly twenty years before I could make it back.

On January 19th of 1993 I saw the premiere of a Fox TV series named "Key West". It caught my attention because of that previous visit. It held my interest because of what I saw. It was enchanting, creative, endearing. It represented a kind of "warts-and-all" paradise where a cornucopia of people lived their lives and pursued their bliss. It portrayed the humane and the unknown in one breath, and cold realities in the next. In it were a variety of characters with backgrounds just as diverse. "Everywhere there were lies and beauty, greed and romance, desire, defeat, lust, forgiveness… Life."

I followed Seamus O'Neill for the next few months as he became a part of his own dreams. The series ended suddenly and unexpectedly (to me) that June, but since I had recorded several episodes I could revisit Seamus and friends from time to time. Some years later I was able to collect copies of the remaining 13 episodes through exchanges with other fans.

Within the four or five years after the series was cancelled several life-changing events took place for me:

My career of 22+ years came to an end, owing to the downsizing and privatization of my U.S. Navy employer.

My wife of nine years set out on adventures of her own (divorce).

I came really, really close to losing the house I had designed and built (see items 1 and 2)

There were some days during that period (around 1996-1998) which seemed very dark indeed! I did, though, discover something amazing: During those times when my emotional state was at it’s lowest, I could pop in a "Key West" episode, and be transported to Paradise just as quickly as if Scotty were at the controls! David Beaird’s creation would pluck me from the hole I was in and placed me upon higher ground.

Now, the first time that happened was pure, serendipitous luck. The second time was just taking the chance that it might help again. After that, I started reaching for the series like it were aspirin for a headache! I even wondered a time or two about the possibility of addiction, or even becoming resistant to its healing effects! And at that time I had only seven episodes.

I may have indeed become addicted; I don’t really care. There seem to be no harmful side effects. But amazingly, the potency of this medication has never flagged. An episode still brings me to jubilation from whatever head I am in.

And that is where Jacki’s Story begins. She can share her perspective of it better than I, but here, by way of introduction to it, is mine:

I had known Jacki for only a matter of days when she told me that she had an appointment to see her doctor about a lump she had noticed. The lump turned out to be malignant, and she was facing surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation treatments. And having to look her own mortality square in the face.

The day she came out of surgery, I went to visit her in the hospital. That was December 21st, 2001. She was weak and scared. She knew that, even after having come through the operation fairly well, the worst was yet to come. That is when I gave her the best gift I had to offer.

What I told her was that I had something to help her face an uncertain future more easily. I told her very little about the tapes I had, mostly that they had helped me through some very dark times. She had never heard of the series, much less seen any episodes, but I think that she will tell you that this salve for the soul works.

After a nearly 20 year absence, I visited the island of Key West during four days in April of 2002, and returned for two weeks the following October. When I stepped off of that 19 passenger, propeller-driven plane April 21st, every step I took, every place I visited, every person I met were extensions of the series. I spent those days on a bike, getting up-close-and-personal with the neighborhoods, the sights, and the people. The feeling was the same as I had experienced in watching the TV series: I was in paradise!

There are bars in abundance on that little island. There is a wealth of activities, entertainment, tours, and more… all good. Still, biking the backstreets was all I really needed. On the afternoon that we located the building and marina where Gumbo's Bar still stands, we were taking a leisurely bike ride back, soaking in the sun and scenery, reveling in the bliss of having found that shrine. It must have been all over my face, because a total stranger said something to me in passing. Without so much as a tip of the head or a sidelong glance, the man approaching on his bike on that sidewalk along the beach said as he passed, "You're here to stay"!

While I have not given up on the possibility of having met a prophet, I haven’t made the move… yet!

October 13th of 2002 found me making the (approximately) 160 mile drive down Highway 1 from Miami to Key West.  (The 1100 mile trip of getting to Miami was a combination of flying and driving on the 11th and 12th.) My first stop was at the Last Chance Saloon, which was where Federal agents had set up the infamous roadblock in 1982. That event, which the INS claimed was intended to catch illegal aliens, is what lead to Key West "seceding" from the Union and forming the "Conch Republic". Had to see the Last Chance, and had to meet Skeeter Dryer, its proprietor. Skeeter was gracious enough to sign my copy of "The Conch That Roared", which chronicles the "secession" events.

I was on a dual mission on that October trip: A sort of "scavenger hunt" to see just how much info I could find about the production of the "Key West" series, and to determine whether I should be working up a plan to relocate. Ok, there was a third mission: To have fun and enjoy the heck out of my stay. Piece o’ cake in Paradise!

Jacki's Story (Updated September 2004)

How easily my life was turned upside down when I was diagnosed with breast cancer at Thanksgiving, 2001. While I struggled to make sense of what was happening, a bilateral, radical mastectomy was performed three days before Christmas. As I woke from the anesthetic, Bill stood at my bedside. He whispered, " I have plans for your recovery. I plan to introduce you to a little known TV show that has saved my life many times over the past few years." The days unfolded as I faced more and more the seriousness of my situation. It was determined to be an undiscovered Stage III cancer with a 9 cm tumor and 18 lymph nodes being removed, all proving to be malignant. I would require aggressive chemotherapy and radiation. Even at that, the return of the cancer was almost a certainty.

Having agreed to spend New Year's Eve with me at home since I could not leave the house, Bill appeared at my doorstep with a plastic grocery bag filled with VCR tapes. The show, he explained, took place on the island of Key West. (Funny thing was, at that time; I couldn't even point to Key West on a map.) Although there were only 13 episodes filmed, he assured me that I would come to love the characters and find solace in them. Not wanting to offend my friend, I appeared enthusiastic as the first tape started to play, but silently, I thought how could this 9-year old TV show ease my pain? The first episode I watched was ironically entitled "The Great Unknown". The story line revolved around a pivotal character, Gumbo as he recognized his wife, CiCi, on the10th anniversary of her death. From the first note of the theme song to the final credit, I was mesmerized. Gumbo and his wife had been clowns in the circus. In a sign of support, his clown friends gathered around him to celebrate their friend and her life. As the clock struck midnight and 2002 began for me, I cried for the cancer and for the uncertainty of my life. Would someone mourn for me in the same way as Gumbo had mourned for CiCi? So it began that this unassuming little show had touched me after all! With a fresh box of Kleenex, I asked for the next episode.

As the weeks progressed, time after time, Bill would unexpectedly appear at my door with his plastic grocery bag and a new episode would be shown. Just as the doctor doled out the chemotherapy, Bill doled out the episodes as an antidote. Sometimes, I would be too weak to stay awake, sometimes I would cry, sometimes I would laugh, but always when I heard the music, I would be lifted up. I just had to know more about this crazy, little TV show, Key West . Searching the Internet, my first discovery was www.prayforrain.com. Pray for Rain was responsible for the music throughout the series. I emailed through the site and Dan Wool responded. I told him my story and how therapeutic I found his music. I told him how Bill would whistle the theme song to me as I was facing a chemo treatment, CT scan or other seemingly overwhelming task. Dan was touched and began to email me MP3s of the show's music. One of my fondest memories was the night Bill opened his email and found the first of the MP3s I had forwarded to him. His call to say that he was overwhelmed with excitement at the melodic tones filled me with joy. An old friend had greeted him at the door. Bill made a CD of the MP3s for me, which has played again and again to get through the pain, nausea and insanity. What a blessing!

About this time, a strange thing began to happen. Not only was I immersed in this show, I was craving knowledge about the small island of Key West. Bill had visited there about 20 years before and began telling me the story of the secession of Key West from the United States and the forming of the Conch Republic. Naturally, the stories happened to coincide with his revelation of the episode, "We the People". 2002 was the 20th anniversary of the secession and as luck would have it, along with a couple of cheap plane tickets, we were off on a 4-day whirlwind visit of the island during Conch Republic Days!

The trip was a difficult one for me. By this time, I had lost my hair and had to wear a wig or hat, which made me feel self-conscious. It was hard to keep up with Bill's energy. We biked the island by day and walked the island by night, always in search of some piece of trivia relating to the show. But even without being myself, I was hooked. On this quaint little island where the people seem to know you, the doors were always open and roosters walked the streets as easily as you did, I was home. Everywhere we went we seem to make a friend.

Returning home from the trip, I decided that I had to go back and soon. I had two more months of chemotherapy to face and three months of radiation following the visit. It was then that this whole process took a turn for the worse. I had ups and downs with the treatment itself. I was dehydrated from the chemo, which resulted in a re-hospitalization. I developed an infection in the blood, which resulted in daily shots to fortify my white blood cells. As the 36 radiation treatments began, so did the lymphedema in my left arm. The process was humiliating, energy-zapping and all around demoralizing.

To add to the trauma, my workplace, which had been so understanding at the beginning suddenly turned to the place that constantly asked, "aren't you about through with all of this?" And to finish things off, an important relationship in my life suddenly ended. I was broken hearted. Would anything ever be the same again?

I would love to say I approached all of this like a trooper and stepped up to the plate with a positive attitude, but that wouldn't be honest. I fell into a deep depression. I felt hopeless. Death seemed to invade my every thought. I felt so alone. It was an effort to put one foot in front of the other. I had a good, caring, loving circle of friends and family, but I isolated myself because I just couldn't reach out. Nothing made the pain go away. It was during these days that I didn't want to get out of bed in the morning and when I did, I cried all day, whether in treatment, at work or at home. Wouldn't it be simple to just end the pain by my own hand? During this time, another friend insisted I see a therapist and begin to face the situation, which had taken me to this point. This was not an easy task. I had to face the cancer and the idea of dying so young. I had to grasp onto the things that created peace for me. It was then that I clung to Key West (the island and the show) the most.

So what was I to do? A friend offered me paradise. It seemed she and her husband owned a condo – Where? - Where else? Key West! I could go home again. All I had to do was finish my treatments. There really weren't enough words to say thank you for all Bill had done during this surreal time. It seemed only fair to share this trip to the island with him. We had become great buddies sharing this weird obsession, and there was so much more to explore.

We had two stories to tell. One was the ideal little island paradise as seen through the eyes of Seamus O'Neill and the other highlighting the real Key West. Apparently not many of the Conchs (true or transplanted) see this quirky little show as a true depiction of life in Key West. In contrast, we were drawn to this tiny island because of the series and saw many similarities.

So the adventure that began in April 2002 has continued with several trips since. What was our purpose? To spend as much time scavenging this four by two-mile island for any information on the show, it's characters, filming locations, etc. What we found will stay with me for a lifetime. Both of us felt it was too much to keep to ourselves and decided that this website was a way to share the inspiration of the show and the beauty of the island. My hope is that our labor of love will give you your own little piece of paradise, because in truth, it can be lifesaver. I know from first hand experience.

As we update this website, I have come full circle to once again face The Great Unknown. In February 2004 I was told I have metastatic breast cancer, which has spread to the bone and other areas. In July, I was forced to face more surgery. Immediately upon receiving the new diagnosis, I begged for that familiar theme music and those characters I have grown to love. I cling to the episode Pieces of A Man. As in the case of Bertrum Stoddard, I hope to be remembered not by the actual possessions I leave to my friends, but the difference I made in their lives.

I want to take this opportunity to thank those of you that have commented on the website and sent me words of support and encouragement. Only God knows what the future brings, but my dreams and my goals are the same today as they were in the beginning. I want to share as much as I can about the series and spend as much time as possible in my beloved Key West. If prayers are answered, then I will be updating this website for years to come and will be able to invite all my friends to visit whenever they come to Key West.