In Memoriam – Katie Weinstein

Our school was made a little darker last month, with the sudden death of beloved graduate student, crew member, administrative assistant, colleague, and friend, Katie Weinstein.  I would like to share some of the beautiful words spoken at her service, by Dean Bassett and one of her closest friends here at school, James Brandenburg, as well as the short film produced by Dodge College’s Dean of Technology, Dan Leonard, for her memorial service on Wednesday, February 1, 2012.  It was a lovely, moving service and my hope is to help those who weren’t able to attend celebrate her life in their own time.  Our thoughts and prayers are with her family, friends, and loved ones.

In Memoriam – Katie Weinstein from Dodge College on Vimeo.

Katie was my line producer on my cycle film and she asked if I wanted her to make breakfast for the crew one morning. And when she said breakfast she meant “Breakfast” with the works, eggs, waffles, bacon, and pancakes. When she showed up to set with this huge breakfast, I asked her how long it took to make all this food, she told me pretty much the entire night. I was shocked, we were hardly getting any sleep and Katie stayed up all night cooking? When I asked her why she gave me a simple but wonderful answer, she told me that she cared about everyone and wanted to make everyone happy. I ate 10 pieces of Bacon that morning, and she made very happy.

No matter how long or short a life, the quality of that life can be truly measured by the impact we have on others. By that measure, Katie Weinstein lived a very full life.

For those of you who do not know me, my name is James Brandenburg. Katie called me, “Bobby,” or “JBJ.” I graduated from Dodge last May. My emphasis was directing.

I met Kate during her orientation. It was August 23rd, 2010. It was during the first mixer of the week. I think I was there trying to pick up first-year girls who didn’t know any better. Anyway, as most of you know, there is a lot of small talk involved. A lot of, “Where are you from?” “What kind of movies do you want to make?”  After about 30 or 45 minutes, I snuck out. Couldn’t take it anymore. I went out back to have a cigarette, and Kate was there, sitting at one of the picnic tables. I walked out, lit up. For whatever reason, I turned to her and said, “I fucking hate these things.” She sort of smirked at me, and after a moment, she said, “Me fuckin’ too.” I knew immediately we were going to be friends.

I had the pleasure of working with Kate on six films, and I watched as she worked on a dozen more. She served as the line producer on my thesis. To say that she was invaluable to the project would be an
understatement so gross that it could be considered a lie. In truth, the film could not have been made without her. Her work ethic was unparalleled. To give you an idea, here was a typical day for Katie on Chinese Takeout:

• Wake up at 3 AM.
• Cook a hot breakfast for the crew.
• Be the first to arrive on set, before 6 AM.
• Set up.
• For the next 12 hours, solve problems, put out fires, keep everyone happy.
• At the end of the day, load everything back into her car. Be the last one to leave.
• Go home. Unload her car into her apartment.
• Restock, replenish.
• Carry everything back to her car.
• Contact all the extras and the actors for the next day.
• Solve more problems. (She had a neurotic director.)
• Go to sleep around midnight.
• Wake up at 3 AM.
• Repeat.

It was a year later before she finally told me everything she did behind the scenes to make the film happen. I was shocked, but that’s the type of person Kate was. She shouldered all the burden, and she asked for none of the praise. I don’t know many people who have that type of integrity.

We worked together soon after my film wrapped. It was another thesis project. I was signed on to be the sound mixer. A couple days before production started, I remember standing with Kate in the lobby of Dodge College. Luke, the producer, walked up to us. He said, “Um, Katie, I hate to ask but we don’t have a boom op for this weekend. Would you be willing to help out?” Keep in mind – this was her first semester, and she had already produced her own cycle, line produced a cycle and a thesis, as well as having a full class load. She must have been tired. She looked at me. I shrugged. Do what you want. Katie thought about it, nodded. “Sure, I’ll help.” Luke smiled, and said, “Great. But don’t worry. It will only be for a day or two.”

Katie ended up booming for all ten days of the shoot.

Despite being burnt out and the fact that her class work was piling up – it was the end of the semester – she was there. All day, every day. And I have to tell you – she was the best boom op I have ever seen. Because, as we all know, boom op’ing sucks. It’s terrible. It’s boring, it’s physically painful, and you get no credit. But I’ve never seen anyone who did it better. And it’s not just because she was taller than everyone else – which she was. It was because Katie was always there, always ready, waiting patiently. She said it was her goal that they would never have to say, “Hold for sound.” And they didn’t.

That was when we became close friends.

The shoot itself was pretty bad. Actually, it was awful. As Katie would say, “It was… (Sigh) It was just the worst.” But for me, Kate made it okay. Hell, she made it fun. We listened to a lot of music, we cracked a lot of jokes, and she took what could have been a miserable time and made it one of the best experiences of my life.

I moved in with Kate the day after I graduated. By that time, I already had my own place in Los Angeles, but I preferred Katie’s couch. Ostensibly, the reason was because I work at a cafe a couple of blocks from Dodge College. If I am honest, the real reason I stayed there most nights was because I liked being next to her. I would rather have done nothing with Kate than anything with anyone else.

Last summer, she interned on a film, called “The Baby-Makers.” It’s coming to theaters soon. Katie worked in the Art Department. She had no experience with that, but like boom op’ing, she threw herself into it with her whole heart. She’d come home – sweaty and smelling and covered in paint. She would make a beeline for the shower. Later, she would tell me about her day. Kate was afraid that people would realize she had no idea what she was doing. They would look at her and see a fraud. When the shoot ended, all of the other interns were invited to a dinner, but Kate was not. That really upset her, until she found out that the reason she was not invited to the dinner was because the production company had another shoot coming up that weekend, and they wanted her to work on it!

That’s the type of filmmaker Kate was – her quality was apparent to everyone who met her. You wanted her on your film because no one would do a better job.

I watched her produce her thesis film, “Marital Combat.” Kate loved the script. She told me more than once, “It’s funny and touching and important and relevant. It’s a story worth telling.” She had a soft spot in her heart for love stories – these were the types of films she wanted to make. And for the film, she handled a rather epic and unique set of challenges. She did so with grace, aplomb, and determination. She was proud of the work she and her team were doing. After having seen the first cut, I asked her, “Is it there?” She smiled and said, “Oh yeah. It’s there. It’s gonna be good.”

As I’ve said, I have never encountered anyone who had such a strong work ethic or who was as committed to helping others as Kate. During her last semester, she produced her own thesis, served as supervising producer on another, she 1st and 2nd AD’ed for two more, and she UPM’ed a fourth.  I asked her once, why she was such a glutton for punishment. She looked at me and said,

Because they need my help. Because it’s the right thing to do. And because I like being the hero.

I had the privilege of spending these last holidays with Kate and her family. The Weinstein’s are amazing – warm, inviting, vivacious. It’s not hard to see why Kate was as special she was. And in their home, hanging from one of the doors downstairs, there is this banner. It says, “To be at home is find yourself with those people who put your heart at ease.” That’s what Katie did, that’s why she was such an incredible producer. She took care of everyone around her, and she didn’t ask for anything in return.

About a month before she passed, I was having a drink with people I didn’t know very well. Kate was supposed to meet me. It was all very pleasant, small talk and what not. I kept looking for her, waiting. When I saw her come around the corner. I exhaled. A sigh of relief. I thought to myself, “Okay. Now I can breathe. Now I feel safe.” She came and stood next to me, and I was home. I don’t know how else to describe it.

Kate was person of surpassing courage. Some people have described her as “fearless.” She wasn’t. She had all the anxieties the rest of us have. Will we get a job after we graduate? Will we fail? Will we ever make it? Katie and I attended a dinner party this last New Year’s Eve. At that party, the guests went around the table, sharing their resolutions for the coming year. Kate’s was simple. She said, “This year I hope to graduate and do something amazing with the opportunities that have been provided to me.” Later, I told her I liked what she had said. I thought it was apt. And eloquent. She shook her and said, “Yeah, I don’t know what will happen. I’m pretty freaked out, but I am going to give it a shot.”

It was this willingness to face the unknown that defined Katie’s courage. It was something she had been doing for a long time. For example, before coming to film school, Kate had a good job at the University of Illinois in Chicago. She had security. And she left all that behind to come to film school. She wrote about this in one draft – of which there are many – of her entrance essay. She wrote, “I am on a precipice. I know that I would be safe and secure if I just took one step backward and remained comfortable in my job and in my life, but as I look out over the edge, I see that there are far greater opportunities and challenges that I would never be able to reach for and master if I didn’t at least jump.”

Katie was willing to jump. She was willing to meet the unknown head-on despite all the uncertainty and despite the possibility of failure. It’s the type of courage I aspire to have someday.

Katie always said that if she could do one thing, she would write and write well. In past couple of weeks, the Weinstein family has asked me to help set Kate’s affairs in order. As so, as I was going through her through her things, I found something she had written. At first, I thought it was yet another draft of her entrance essay. But she had she written it after being accepted, about 3 weeks before moving to California.

It was an email she had sent to herself. The subject line read, “The Day I Figured It All Out.”

As most of you know, Kate was a very private person. She didn’t her writing with anybody. So I am certain she would HATE that I am sharing this with you. And I will probably have to answer for this in my next life. But they are her words, and they are amazingly prescient.

This is what she wrote:

The day I figured it all out was August 1, 2010.

I’ve loved the movies since I was a little girl. The first movies I remember watching are Star Wars: A New Hope and Walt Disney’s Robin Hood. I lived in Morton, Illinois in a tiny house on Polk street. We had no air conditioning and my sister was not yet born. I must have been three years old. I do not remember much besides sitting on the floor in front of my parent’s television and then as soon as the movies ended and the cassette ejected I would take it to my mother and she would magically rewind the VHS.

When I was nine or ten we lived in my grandparents basement. It was late afternoon and I was supposed to leave for Indianapolis with my grandparents that evening. This was going to be my first trip with my grandparents by myself. While they were packing I was laying on the bed in the basement watching a movie with my mother. The movie was called ‘The Princess Bride’.

It has been my favorite movie since.

I’ve lived in Morton, Metamora, Champaign, Urbana, Savoy, Chicago, Boston and Charleston. [Soon I will be moving to California.]

Here is what I finally figured out: Leaving is the constant in my life.

Katie, you were always right, but this one time, I wish you had been wrong.

After her death, Paula Scherek, a family friend of the Weinsteins, said, “There’s a meaning and message in all of this, but I can’t figure out what the fuck it is.” Since I came home that day and found Kate, I have also been looking to find the meaning and the message all of this.

Here’s what I have come up with:

Katie was the best of us. She had so many admirable qualities. She was intelligent and funny. She was patient. And kind. And forgiving. And brave.

She was the best listener I have ever met.

She was someone who stepped up to the plate no matter the situation, and she didn’t ask for anything in return. She took care of the people around her. She made our lives better with her grace, her humor, and her compassion. She understood that life is fleeting, and meant to cherished. She once wrote, “Life is so short, and we only get one time to learn all we can, make a difference, and be happy. I don’t take any moment for granted.”
Kate loved to learn. She loved to laugh. And she LOVED movies.

She was, as she would say, a champion. I believe that we all can learn something from the type of person Kate was, and if we strove to be a bit more like her – even if it was just a little – we would be better for it.

And so Kate, Katie –

You are my best friend. My safe place. My confidant and my counselor. My home and my joy.

I am so grateful for you. You changed my life, and I will try to be a person worthy of who you are.

I miss you, I love you, and I will carry you with me always.

Thank you.