Welcome
December 12, 2007
Consider this site a virtual wake for our dear friend and colleague, Sam Cassel, who was taken from us too soon.
How you can participate:
Share your memories about Sam. Post them as comments here. Remember what about Sam made you smile or made you think or made you feel.
Share your pictures. If you go and upload pictures of Sam to Flickr.com and tag them ‘rememberingsam’ they will automagically appear on this site.
Sam and I enjoyed what was perhaps the worst bar food in the history of bars while at Sundance this past year. I was the lucky suitemate that was able to actually spend time with him in between his busy schedule of screenings. We were heading back to town, him to a screening and me to a party, and decided to grab some food at the hotel bar where we were staying, since we figured it’d be easier than getting some in town.
What we got were freezer burned, still frozen in the middle cheese sticks and over microwaved taquitos and the only thing we had to wash it down was Mormon beer. Probably the worst meal I’ve had since college, but one of the most memorable because I was able to laugh with Sam about it. I will miss him.
Sammy and I worked together at Scott Rudin’s…and we developed a deep bond quickly as we were counterparts on opposite coasts. After I left Rudin’s, we stayed tight, every time I’d visit LA for work or fun, seeing Sammy was always in the plans.
On one trip, I made the less than athletic Sam take me on a hike in Topanga Canyon. It was a hot day and for some reason, no one was really on the trails. We made our way into the canyon, cracking jokes about how he hadn’t been hiking, let alone for a walk in years, and just taking time quiet in order to enjoy the environment. we were walking along minding our own business when we both looked up to find a huge black snake laying in the path before us. Me, the outdoorsy fishing type, screeched and screamed while Sam observed the scenario, slowly grabbed a nearby big stick. He encourage the snake out of our path with the piece of wood…granted on his tippy toes but still calm. I was so impressed…Sam was so chill about just about everything…little ruffled his feathers and he took everything in, analyzing it and embracing it all. He later admitted that he was scared to death of the snake but honestly, in the moment, I had no idea.
We went back to his place to shower and he showed me all that he had done to prove to the cat adoption agency that he was going to be a good cat owner…litter, food, and a ton of toys for the kitten he had yet to meet… little did they know the cat had the best owner ever, someone who would protect it from anything–even if he was scared to death of the adversary at hand. I love you Sammy and miss you tons.
I met Sam when I was a freshman at Northwestern in 1998. We worked together closely for three years on NSTV and I will never forget his amazing ability to make me laugh. No matter what the situation, Sam would always have a captive audience in stitches. I only wish I had been able to spend more time with him in his brief 28 years with us. My deepest condolences to his family, the family of Rhiannon Meier, and both the Northwestern and Los Angeles Communities who lost a brilliant mind and an all-around funny guy.