To be quite honest, I’m not posting this for myself, although I am saddened by this news. This is for my husband, for Prime. I just hope I can put something together that can adequately express what we have lost.
Yesterday, I discovered that we lost Dick Gautier. For those of you who are not familiar with the name, he was the voice behind Rodimus Prime in the third season of The Transformers cartoon in the 1980s .
Let me go ahead and state for the record that Hot Rod and Rodimus Prime were never my favorite characters. Which may be a pity, when you think about it.
Hot Rod screwed up. He made a mistake and a colossal one, one that cost Optimus Prime his life and the Autobots a leader. This was no small blunder; this was one that could scar someone for the rest of his/her life. Not only did Hot Rod turn the tide of battle for the worse, he’s the very reason that Optimus Prime died. That “blood” could be placed on Hot Rod’s hands. Think of the magnitude of that sort of mistake. Think of how soul-shattering that could be. It is the sort of thing that can cripple someone mentally; how can you even begin to come back from that? Each time you see your own reflection, you see the reason someone you cared about died.
That can break someone. To be honest, it would break nearly anyone. I admit, I don’t think I’d be able to pick myself up from something like that. But it didn’t break Hot Rod. There is something to be said about it, about the strength of his character.
Add to that the fact that Hot Rod was later saddled with the responsibility of leading the Autobots. Suddenly, you go from being a regular guy to the one who has to make life or death decisions at the drop of a hat. Again, this could break someone, but it didn’t break Rodimus. He simply tried to do the best he possibly could. Yet even though he was doing everything in his power to do the right thing–or what he thought was right–he wasn’t sure if he was doing enough. There was a mountain of self doubt hidden behind that calm exterior, a lot of self questioning as to whether or not he was right, whether he had taken the proper course. He was saddled with a burden that would tax anyone but he did his best, tried to do the best he possibly could.
Sometimes he made mistakes. He stumbled along the way. But Rodimus would pick himself back up and keep going, despite the doubts. He had a cast iron streak of pluck within him, to say the very least. If anyone earned the right to be respected, it was Rodimus.
Now his voice is silenced. We’ve lost something and our world is a darker, emptier place without it. That is truly a tragedy.
Farewell, Mr. Gautier and thank you. You are already sorely missed.