There Are No Small Parts, Or Actors, In History

As I have gotten older, I've given some thought to my place in the baton race of human progress.  That's really what human life is, after all:  a baton race.  We take the baton from our forbearers, and hand it off to the generation that follows us.  All of us are a part of that race, whether we realize it or not.  Some of us not only realize it, but seek to have as prominent a place in it as possible.  They want to be famous.  They want to be appreciated for who they are and what they've done.  In some cases, they just have a genuine desire to do good for others, and want to do as much of it as possible.  Full disclosure:  at different times in my life, I have been each one of these people (sometimes, I have been more than one of them at once).

The truth, however, is that there are not leading roles in the baton race of life, just as there are no leading roles in baton races.  All roles are supporting roles.  Success literally depends on everyone.  There are no leaders.  Everyone is a follower.  And everyone shares in the success that everyone earns.

Which brings me to the case of Frank Wills.

Chances are that his name is not familiar to you, unless your memory reaches back to the summer of 1972, when Richard Nixon's presidential campaign attempted to burglarize the Democratic National Committee headquarters.  That botched crime, and Nixon's role in attempting to cover-up the involvement of his campaign, nearly led to Nixon's impeachment and did, in any case, led to his becoming the first President in American history to resign from office.

And none of this would have happened without Frank Wills doing his job.

Wills was a security guard at the Watergate office complex in Washington, D.C., where the DNC headquarters was located.  He was the one who discovered duct tape on one of the doors to prevent it from latching shut, and called the police.  Together, they discovered the Nixon burglars in the DNC offices.  And the rest, of course, is history.

What he did was not dramatic.  It did not require any extraordinary talent or training.  And, sadly for him, it did not lead to much in the way of rewards from a grateful nation.  He did get to portray himself in the film version of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein's Watergate book, "All The President's Men," but, beyond that, he had what could be described as a checkered life, dying alone and in poverty.

And yet, his simple act, combined with some quick thinking on his part, changed our nation profoundly for the better.

One never knows how one might make history.  It may be in a dramatic way; it may not.  What matters, for the sake of history and for all of our sakes, is staying in the race, and running it well.

So, as you celebrate our independence in these profoundly troubled times, keep running the race, in whatever position in that race, life has put you.  You never know when you might be the next Frank Wills.  None of us do.  But we all need someone to take that position in the race.

Or, since I'm an actor and a producer, I'll just throw in a variation on a show business cliché:  not only are there no small parts, there are no small actors.

Run the race.  Take your place on the stage.  Whatever you do, don't give up.