Olympia Dukakis: The Lioness of Lowell
It’s been just over a year since the death of Oscar-winning actress Olympia Dukakis. Her surname is well-known to her fellow Bostonians. Her cousin Michael was the governor of Massachusetts for a time, as well as the 1988 Democratic presidential nominee. Dukakis is a brand name in the Bay State.
I was fortunate enough to spend a few hours with Olympia one lazy Saturday morning, now more than ten years ago. She had agreed to be interviewed for a graduate school research project I was conducting on the evolution of feminism. I flew to Los Angeles, rented a car and plugged the address her assistant had given me into my GPS. Soon enough, I found myself in front of a small bungalow in a nondescript part of West Hollywood. I was so excited I could scarcely breathe.
A dented screen door hung precariously from the hinges of the cottage’s doorframe. There were no gates, no fences, no security. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised.
I rapped on the door and heard her signature alto voice bellow “It’s open!” Tentatively crossing the threshold, I made my way down a narrow hallway. Within a few steps, I found myself in her kitchen. She was sitting at the table dressed in a t-shirt and striped pajama bottoms, hair still wet from a quick dash through the shower. Looking up from a plateful of scrambled eggs she purred, “want some, darlin?”
