In memory of Alan Speer

Alan Speer died Sunday at a swim meet in Michigan. He was 34, a Charleston kid who grew up into a witty, learned man. He knew more about film than anyone, and I mean that just about literally.

My wife Elaine, who taught Alan flute, was close to him and remembers a story that he once told her. In his high-school days, Alan went to Turkey as an AFS student and, of course, learned Turkish. Years later, in his grad-school days, he was riding in an elevator when the two other passengers, both young women, began giggling and talking about how cute he was. Here's the good part: they were talking in Turkish, never imagining Alan could understand them. He stood there taking it all in, and when the elevator stopped at his floor, he turned to them, said something in Turkish, and left. I wish I could remember what it was he said (Elaine can't either). "I heard every word"? "Thank you"? "I agree with you completely"?

Whatever it was, I'm sure it was smart and funny and kind, like Alan himself.

Alan's writing on film is plentifully available online. His webpage for his film criticism, Cinemadox, can be found by clicking here.