[robowombat]

Steve McQueen was a brilliant stunt man who unfortunately for him was discovered as an actor. He was quite talented but the elevation to star status eventually overwhelmed him. He came from a dysfunctional family rife with maladaptive behaviors and was frank enough to say that enlisting in the USMC saved him from being a felon. McQueen was constantly in trouble in the Corps over a host of discipline matters. Some did show some foretaste of his stuntman prowess as on one occasion he absconded in a amphibious tractor and avoided detection for several days at Camp Lejeune. For a man with little more than 9/10 spotty years of formal education tinsel towns star treatment and the host of sycophants and manipulators drove him into a kind of depressive spiral. He hid out in a house out in the desert and would collect his mail at a filling station. Eventually he became a sad shell of his previous self, suspicious, wary, and near paranoid. Cancer was his final disaster.

[ansel12]

Steve McQueen was an ex-Marine, a political conservative, pro Vietnam, carried a pistol (he learned he was on Charlie Manson's list), became (at this airfield) a born again Christian, and he mysteriously used to demand big lots of things like electric razors and bluejeans from movie studios when he was filming. It was revealed that he sent the lots of stuff to a boys home that he had lived in, he made visits to the home all of his life and answered every letter that the boys ever sent him. WM

'The Great Escape' superstar spent his last year there, where he was treated as an average Joe. Friends recall his kindness and love of cheap beer.

By Steve Chawkins Los Angeles Times November 30, 2008

One day in 1979, the King of Cool decided to fly. Before anyone knew it, Steve McQueen was living with his girlfriend in a hangar at the Santa Paula Airport. During the day, he learned to pilot a World War II-era biplane. In the evening, the tough-guy superstar would crack open cold beers with grease monkeys, fledgling pilots and aging flyboys who still had a few loop-de-loops left in them.

McQueen and his girlfriend, a stunning model who would become his third wife, slept on a four-poster brass bed amid his vintage motorcycles and airplane parts. His bright- yellow Stearman biplane loomed over their cramped quarters, its wings close enough to create a head-whacking hazard for someone groping through the dark.

But life was good: On Saturday nights, the couple kicked back in their hangar -- really a big storage shed -- to watch "The Love Boat" and "Fantasy Island" on a black-and-white TV. Dinner was often a feed at the local Chinese restaurant.

"It was a sweet time in a sweet place," said Barbara McQueen, the last woman in his life. "We just loved it."

snip But Dewey's warmest memories were of the after-hours get-togethers and McQueen's fondness for Old Milwaukee beer, an inexpensive brew known as an acquired taste.

"He was in character drinking that awful stuff," Dewey said. "It just brings a smile to my face."

A reform school alumnus with a well-deserved bad-boy reputation, McQueen is said to have mellowed by the time he touched down in Santa Paula.

When a medical emergency required two friends in town to leave for a week, McQueen volunteered to care for their seven children. When a young man who worked at the airport died suddenly, McQueen paid off his family's mortgage.