How Gene Hackman's Death Sheds a Light on the Caregiving Toils, Triumphs and Tragedies of a Younger Wife

In February of this year, movie star icon Gene Hackman and his wife of over 30 years, Betsy Arakawa—herself an accomplished classical pianist—were both found dead in their Sante Fe, New Mexico home.
The loss of a celebrated figure like Hackman would always have drawn public attention. He had unforgettable roles in movies such as The French Connection, Unforgiven, The Poseidon Adventure, The Conversation, Bonnie and Clyde, Mississippi Burning, and The Royal Tenenbaums.
But the press coverage was amplified by the unusual circumstances of their simultaneous deaths. Commentators questioned if their ending was preventable and whether more proactive caregiving actions by his wife would have made a difference. Based on multiple media reports, here is what we know.
First to die was Ms. Arakawa, aged 65, from hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, a rare and severe respiratory illness transmitted through contact with infected rodents. However, Hackman did not report her death. The medical examiner speculated that he was unaware she had died because of his advanced Alzheimer's disease. Six days later, 95-year-old Hackman died due to complications from heart disease. But another eight days went by before a maintenance worker came upon their bodies. When no one answered their door, he contacted a security officer in the subdivision.
Why Discovery Took So Long
That two weeks passed before the discovery of their bodies points to this couple's diminished social support network. Despite occupying a large and luxurious house, they apparently employed no staff for their ordinary housekeeping needs. There were also no viable family connections who might have lent support.
Hackman had three adult children living in other states, but they were sufficiently out of touch that they did not routinely check up on their father. Nor were close surviving relatives of Ms. Arakawa identified in press reports. Reliable community or neighborhood social contacts were also notably deficient. A typical response—"All of us that knew him should have been checking on him."
Hackman and his wife also eschewed any high- or low-tech devices that would have communicated a fall or irregularities in their usual activities to others, such as medical alert pendants, smartwatches, or ceiling-mounted motion sensors.
No check-in system was in place.
When people get older, and especially if they are vulnerable, every day at an agreed-upon time, they should transmit a communication—email, text message, or phone call— that alerts a family member, friend, or neighbor outside the home that they are okay—alive and functional. A transmission absence would signify they require immediate help.
Second Guessing the Caregiving Abilities of Hackman's Spouse
Experts were also quick to question why Ms. Arakawa assumed all the caring responsibilities herself, given the round-the-clock demands of looking after someone with advanced Alzheimer's disease. There was always the danger that her incapacitation would leave Hackman helpless. Yet, there was no backup arrangement for a family member, friend, or neighbor to take over assistance responsibilities. Nor did she hire any paid help. Because this couple did not lack for financial resources, this was an unnecessary risk.
And given Hackman's advanced stage of Alzheimer's disease, why did Ms. Arakawa not consider transitioning her husband to a long-term care facility such as an assisted living or life care community with a dedicated memory care unit? Aging in place is not always the best way to cope with the declines of old age.
Hindsight's Wonderful, But the Supportive Care Environment Was Working
Still, celebrity status aside, how she and her husband opted to cope with the challenges of old age was hardly remarkable and was working.
There was no evidence that their large house lauded by Architectural Digest was poorly maintained or unkempt. There were no reports that either of the couple experienced a serious fall. There was no reason to believe they were not aging in the right place.
That she was the sole caregiver was also not exceptional. Because women live longer than men and typically marry older partners, younger wives are simply more likely to be around and healthier to care for their less abled husbands.
Ms. Arakawa reasonably judged that she could do it alone—a not surprising response by this capable, educated, and accomplished wife. We can only speculate what would have changed if she had more professional help or information to help her cope with her older husband's mentally crippling disease.
All the evidence points to Ms. Arakawa as a loving, devoted, and highly competent caregiver who best knew her husband's distinctive needs and was always protective of his well-being. When she shopped outside her home, she wore a face mask to avoid bringing any illnesses back to her husband. She helped keep him "active and engaged and healthy as possible," doing puzzles and yoga via Zoom daily.
A longtime friend recalled Mr. Hackman saying that "he would have been dead 'long ago' without his wife taking care of him and ensuring that he ate healthily."
And she could not anticipate a rare assault on her body—capitulating to a rodent virus. She was active and looking healthy even the day before her death. In fairness, she had little reason to expect a healthy 65-year-old woman to go downhill so fast. Sometimes, we are dealt bad cards.
They Desired to be Socially Isolated
We can speculate that their limited social contacts partly explain their tragic ending. But they both opted for a more reclusive lifestyle, especially in their later years. A longtime friend said that Mr. Hackman loved Santa Fe because it allowed him to live a life that was not always that of a star. "I know that Gene did not like the role of celebrity," he said. "It was pretty obvious." In an earlier interview, Hackman said, "Where we live, in Santa Fe, you can lead your own life and not be bothered by the latest gossip."
Yes, not having people around flies in the face of evidence emphasizing the perils of older people becoming socially isolated. But again, this celebrity couple was private by design. It was enough that they had each other—along with three dogs. Their friends emphasized—"How proud they were of each other. They were one of the tightest couples." And they had "probably never seen a couple that got along and enjoyed each other so much."
There is also another reason for Hackman's favoring a private life, especially given his visible physical and mental declines.
Throughout his movie career, he was known for powerful and commanding performances, often portraying formidable, no-nonsense, strong-willed figures like law enforcement officers, military leaders, corrupt officials, and imposing villains. It is reasonable that his wife, so sensitive to and respectful of her husband's wishes, would be reluctant to tarnish these strong images.
We All Cope Distinctively with the Challenges of Getting Old
It is not clear whether this sad end was avoidable. When a frail older person loses a sole family caregiver, the consequences can be disastrous. Without his valued spouse, there was little chance Hackman, with advanced Alzheimer's disease, could independently fend for himself. The final blows were a deficient social support network and a viable backup plan. As one neighbor wondered, "Was the couple's desire for privacy in the end, a 'weakness' that contributed to the horror that befell them?"
But it is easy to be judgmental.
Let us concede that crises happen in old age, turning order into chaos. And let us also remember that aging should be a personal affair. Older people have diverse life histories, personalities, beliefs, and values. It is presumptuous and unproductive to second-guess the decision-making of a conscientious and faithful wife who cared so much for her husband.
Because of her efforts, Hackman grew old on his terms. He was happy to be unseen by an inquisitive albeit endearing public. And for this celebrated man, his wife gave him the ultimate gift. She spared him from dying in a sterile hospital, nursing home, or hospice facility. Instead, he was ensconced in his familiar home with a lifelong partner and beloved dogs nearby. At least until the end, he maintained his image as a strong and vibrant movie icon. This was not the worst way to go out.
But another story is yet to be told, although it will never grab headlines.
The understated tragedy is the untimely death of Hackman's spouse, Ms. Arakawa. Her plight, however, is not uncommon. When a woman marries a much older man, his higher chronological age puts him at greater risk of incurring physical or mental disabilities or leaving her a widow. Consequently, by the time the once younger wife reaches her own advanced age and with it poor health or functional decline, she has no caring spouse to depend on. She is alone.
Consider this unfortunate truth. If Hackman had been healthier, he could have gotten his otherwise vibrant wife to an emergency room to deal with her rodent virus. Treated early enough, there is an over 60% survival rate.
That is the other heartbreaking lesson from this story.
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