From childhood afternoons with the original Enterprise crew to the reunion in Picard, Star Trek has been part of my life for decades. Patrick Stewart helped make that journey unforgettable.

Remembering Patrick Stewart

The news of Sir Patrick Stewart’s passing has me thinking about how much of my life has had Star Trek somewhere in the background—and often right in the foreground.

Star Trek: The Original Series has been my favorite since I was in single digits. Kirk, Spock, McCoy and the rest of that crew were part of my childhood. Long before there was a Captain Picard, that was my Enterprise.

Then came the motion-picture era with the original cast. The Wrath of Khan arrived during my teenage years. The Voyage Home followed in my young adulthood. As I grew up, those familiar characters kept coming back with new adventures.

Then we got a new Enterprise and a new generation.

A New Crew Earned Its Place

When Star Trek: The Next Generation began, my reaction was something like, “It’s okay.”

I continued watching. I was curious, but I already had a strong attachment to the original crew. That kind of connection takes time to build.

By the end of the first season, though, I was crazy about The Next Generation.

Patrick Stewart had a lot to do with that. His portrayal of Jean-Luc Picard gave me another captain to believe in. He had his own presence, his own way of handling a situation, and a way of making you listen when he spoke.

Eventually, Picard was on par with Kirk in my eyes. Coming from someone who had loved the original series since childhood, that says a lot.

From the Enterprise to First Contact

The series became an important part of my adult entertainment life. I cared about the characters and wanted to see where their stories would go.

After the television series ended, the TNG movies gave us more time with them. My favorite remains First Contact. It is the one that stands out most for me from that chapter of Star Trek.

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Looking back, I can trace different stages of my life through these shows and movies: childhood with the original series, my teenage years with The Wrath of Khan, young adulthood with The Voyage Home, and then the years spent getting to know Picard’s crew.

That is a long relationship to have with a fictional universe. The people who bring it to life become familiar faces across decades.

Seeing Everyone Together Again

By the time Star Trek: Picard arrived, I was well into another chapter of my own life.

It was fun to see those familiar faces again, especially when the crew came back together. There was a lot of personal history attached to watching them share the screen.

Patrick Stewart and the rest of the cast—and yes, that includes Wil Wheaton—were an important part of my adult life as a viewer. Each contributed to a crew I grew to love.

Seeing them again brought back the feeling that had kept me watching all those years earlier.

Thank You for the Inspiration

What stays with me most is how much creativity those performances sparked.

As someone who enjoys filmmaking and storytelling, I appreciate entertainment that leaves me wanting to create something of my own. Stewart and his castmates gave me that feeling many times over the years.

His passing makes me appreciate the time we had with him on screen and the work we can return to. I can watch an episode, revisit First Contact, or spend another evening with the crew and remember why these stories meant so much to me.

The original series will always have that special place in my heart. Patrick Stewart helped another Enterprise crew earn a place there, too.

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Thank you, Sir Patrick, for the years of entertainment, the inspiration, and a captain who became part of my life.

News Background

Stewart died October 28, 2026, at age 86, according to his spokesperson’s statement reported by Reuters. This entry is a personal reflection on his work and its place in my life.

Reader question: When did Captain Picard and the Next Generation crew win you over?

Some childhood meals stay with you for decades. For me, Golden Bird fried chicken in Compton is one of them.

Growing up in the Los Angeles area, an occasional Friday or Saturday meant my mom wanted a break from cooking. Those were the nights when takeout became a treat, and Golden Bird was one of the places I remember enjoying most.

The location on East Alondra Boulevard sounds like the one we visited. Researching it brought me to 2600 East Alondra Boulevard, Compton—an address listed in Los Angeles County records under Golden Bird #1. 

An address can help place a memory on a map. But what I remember most is much simpler: the chicken was delicious, and getting it was a welcome weekend treat.

Part of Our Family’s Takeout Rotation

Golden Bird wasn’t our only chicken stop. Over the years, there was Pioneer, KFC, Church’s, Louisiana Fried Chicken, and later Popeyes. I also remember Jim Dandy from when I was very young, especially its crinkle-cut fries.

Each name brings back a different memory. Golden Bird brings me back to Compton and those evenings when my mother could take some time off from preparing dinner.

As a kid, I thought about enjoying the food. Looking back, I also appreciate what those meals meant for her: one less dinner to cook and a chance to take a break.

The History Behind the Address

Golden Bird’s own history describes a family recipe associated with Zelma and a wet batter designed to give the chicken a crisp outside while keeping the meat moist. My own memory is simply that I loved eating it. 

The Alondra Boulevard location also connects to another chapter in Southern California’s fried-chicken history. Vincent Williams opened a Compton Golden Bird franchise in 1983, according to the Los Angeles Times. 

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A later profile described Williams developing his Honey’s Kettle concept in his former Compton franchise location. Honey’s Kettle dates its beginnings on Alondra Boulevard to 2000, and a 2012 restaurant visit documented its original location at 2600 East Alondra Boulevard. Those accounts point to a connection between the two businesses at that address. 

I haven’t established who operated the restaurant during every year my family visited. But learning about its history adds another layer to a place I remember through its food.

A Weekend Memory Worth Keeping

For me, Golden Bird’s place in the story starts with family. It was an occasional treat, a meal I enjoyed, and a Friday or Saturday when Mom could let someone else handle the cooking.

Decades later, that is still a good reason to remember a neighborhood restaurant.

Editor’s note: Golden Bird is still serving fried chicken in South Los Angeles at 8300 South Western Avenue, at West 83rd Street. For those of us who remember it as a weekend family treat, it’s good to know the Golden Bird name remains part of LA’s food scene. Order pickup and delivery

Did you eat at the Golden Bird on Alondra Boulevard—or another Golden Bird location? Share your memories and favorite orders in the comments.

Explore more food stories in STM Daily News’ Food & Drink section⁠.

Last Updated on June 4, 2026 by Daily News Staff

The Substitute Teacher Who Wanted Blueprints of Our House

Elementary school memories tend to blend together — cafeteria pizza, playground arguments, the eternal struggle of times tables — but every once in a while, something happens that sticks with you for life. For me, that moment came in the fifth grade during a week when our regular teacher was out, and we cycled through substitute teachers like we were testing models for durability.

By midweek, in walked a substitute with a mysterious, slightly intense energy — the kind of vibe that suggested he either meditated at dawn or worked a graveyard shift doing something he couldn’t talk about. We settled into our seats, expecting worksheets or quiet reading time.

But nope.

He had other plans.

“Today,” he announced, “we’re going to draw schematics of our houses.”

Schematics. Not drawings. Not little houses with smoke coming out of the chimney. Actual blueprint-style schematics. He wanted the layout of our bedrooms, our parents’ rooms, and where the pets slept. Every detail.

Now, to be fair, Highlights Magazine did have a feature that month teaching kids how to draw floor plans. So maybe he was just a bit overenthusiastic about cross-curricular learning. Or maybe — and this is my completely rhetorical adult theory — he worked the graveyard shift as a cat burglar gathering intel between heists. Just moonlighting between blueprints.

While the rest of the class tried their best to recreate their actual homes, my imagination sprinted in a totally different direction. The house I drew had:

• A massive master bedroom with an oversized bathroom for my parents
• Separate bedrooms for us kids on the opposite side of the house
• A kitchen placed right in the center like a command center
• And the dog — the true VIP — had a luxurious two-story doghouse

I had basically created a dream home designed by a 10-year-old watching too much Fantasy Homes by the Yard.

Later that day, my mom asked the usual question: “So, what did you guys do today?”

“We drew schematics of our house,” I said casually.

The look on her face was instant and intense. She wasn’t panicked, but there was definitely a “Why does a substitute teacher need to know the exact layout of my home?” expression happening. Parental instincts activated.

But then I showed her my diagram.

She stared at it. Blinked. Then sighed with massive relief.

“This isn’t our house,” she said.

“Nope! I made it up,” I replied proudly.

Her shoulders relaxed so much she probably lost five pounds of tension in one instant. If the substitute was secretly planning a heist, my masterpiece of misinformation would have sent him to the wrong house entirely.

Looking back, the whole moment feels like a sitcom setup — a mysterious substitute collecting “house schematics,” me creating a completely fictional piece of architecture, and my mom going on a full emotional journey in under 30 seconds.

Maybe he was just excited about the Highlights Magazine floor-plan activity. Or maybe — just maybe — he moonlighted in cat burglary. We’ll never know.

But if he was, I like to think I threw him completely off the scent.

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