The Tom I knew had the attention span of a hummingbird. He was fanatically and frantically in love with L.A., and nearly everyone and everything in it. He could hardly contain himself, and literally overflowed with enthusiasm for our town and its citizens.

I recall one night we both had been to an event at the Avalon, and he grabbed me to go with him to run over to the Hollywood Palladium to present a civic award. We were walking to his car on Vine and he was on his phone, reading out loud the names of the stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and apparently talking to me, while still somehow managing to acknowledge nearly every passerby and pick up a piece of litter on the way. Out of frustration, I finally said to him, “Are you talking to me, to someone on the phone or to yourself?” He quipped, “I’m multitasking.”

Tom loved people, and reached out to as many of them as he could. He validated everyone he encountered. I have seen him stand in a parking lot talking with the attendants, kibitzing with busboys and waiters, giving shoutouts to kids, cops, grannies, city workers and damn nearly everyone else he sees. He’s like a mariachi singer – if you made eye contact with him, he would be at your table.

Tom was a holdover from another era, a people’s politician whose heart truly was as big as his personality. 

Bernie Shine

Hancock Park