Remembering Kevin Starr

The only thing that gave me some comfort learning about Kevin Starr’s sudden passing is knowing that he has left behind something as lively and monumental as the man himself: his Americans and the California Dream series. I had the weighty task of editing the last of the books in this series, Golden Dreams, which Kevin felt to be his favorite and most personal because it was about the 1950s, when he met his wife Sheila. The editing had been left unfinished when Sheldon Meyer, Kevin’s longtime editor, died. Sheldon had read many chapters individually, raving about parts of each–but especially the jazz chapter (naturally)–and cheering Kevin on to finish, while noting that of course the chapters were all too long.

When I got the full manuscript, it was sprawling—in breadth and length. When I sent off my heavy edit, it was with some trepidation, knowing that Sheldon and Kevin had enjoyed a close working relationship for four decades. What a relief with I received a gracious and grateful message from Kevin, who said that he was getting down to work on his revisions.

Golden Dreams published at a moment when many of the abundance of the postwar years and its creations—the public university system, affordable housing, a booming economy, an ambitious physical infrastructure, an enviable environment, and more—were being publicly mourned. In retrospect, the book was perfectly timed but the timing only highlighted how distant this golden age a half-century before seemed.

Although Kevin had written his last volume of the series and turned to work on another multivolume series on Catholics in America, he will forever be synonymous with California. His exuberant and exhaustive Americans and the California Dream series has given the state its definitive and enduring narrative. I’d like to think Kevin and Sheldon are somewhere listening to jazz and toasting the Dream and lives well lived.

Featured image credit: ‘Pacific Coast Highway’, by Lars0001. Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.