As I grow older, I have more frequent cause to think of a quote from the Oscar-winning movie Harry and Tonto. It’s from Harry Coombes, who was played by the truly immortal Art Carney: “You never really feel somebody’s suffering; you only feel their death.”
Right now I’m feeling the death of Vince Flynn, one of our era’s top thriller authors and a terrific guy who passed away in the first hours of June 19, 2013. I first met Vince at ThrillerFest in New York several years ago, where he very graciously signed and personalized several of his books for my son Michael, who is a major fan of his. Vince was an easy guy to talk to, a skill he undoubtedly acquired in his prior vocational lives as a bartender and a commercial real estate agent. I never bought a drink or leased an office from him, but I did read every one of his books. From first to last, beginning to end, they were...well, I could run out of adjectives. Let’s start with riveting and thrilling, and go on to addicting, to name but three.
Vince’s most well-known and successful creation was an off-the-books, special-ops counter-terrorism agent named Mitch Rapp. The tough and capable Rapp (a terrific name, yes?) has always been one of those characters you would want to be right there with when you need someone to watch your back, or who you desperately hope actually exists in the real world, while quietly doing the things that Rapp does to preserve the Republic. It’s no wonder that Vince was tapped as a story consultant for a season of “24”; Mitch Rapp and Jack Bauer were twin sons of different mothers.
Vince battled cancer for three years, and while it slowed him down a bit, it never really stopped him. He remained remarkably upbeat from the time of his first diagnosis, continuing to write and, more importantly, to be husband and father to his wife and three children. I have no way of knowing this for certain, but my guess is that he wanted to be there for his family on at least one more Father’s Day. He succeeded, as he did with so many of his other endeavors.
47 is far too young an age to leave this side of the veil. Vince and his creation shared a number of qualities, among them being an inability to give up. Vince didn’t lose his battle with cancer; like Rapp, he fought it on his own terms. He will be missed and will not be forgotten.
