This week marks a really important time for me – I finally finished the entire run of Battlestar Galactica, the newer series. It’s a journey that my wife and I shared and after it concluded I was left with a lot of overwhelming feelings. I will sadly miss out on Galacticon this year, and my next chance to go won’t be for five more years. Since the end of the series I’ve added a new life goal – meet Edward James Olmos before either of us leaves this Earth and speak to him face to face. I’ve got a lot of thoughts swelling in my head, and just in case something was to happen I’ve decided to sit down and write an open letter to this amazing man. The following is that letter.

Dear Dad,

Hello Mr. Olmos. My name is Raine, and while you don’t know me, I’ve grown to know you over the past several months, or rather a side of you. I remember when I was younger hearing about the Battlestar Galactica series. I was fifteen when the first season of BSG aired, and sadly I admit that it was far from something I was interested in. It wasn’t until late last year, 2012, that I really entertained the idea of checking out what the series had to offer. I did just that, and it’s become one of the best things I’ve ever done.

I’m 24 years old now. I’ve a wife and son, and I’m still a kid at heart. I know you meet a lot of people, what with going to conventions and such, and it’s easy to get lost in the sea of fans. That’s why I am taking the time to write you this letter, and I just want to say one thing: thank you for being a father to me over the past months I’ve been with you aboard Galactica.

I was raised without a father. I lived most of my life raising myself, with the exception of what my grandparents did for me. I’ve grown up somewhat closed off, introverted, and into a man who believes you’ve got to always do what’s right, even if it’s not the “good” thing to do.

When I started watching the series I honestly was not prepared for what I was getting into. I learned of Adama, studied his ways, and found myself under his wing. I think anyone can agree that Battlestar Galactica was a very emotional series. Now I wouldn’t call myself an overly emotional man by any means, but you completely broke me in that show. While I didn’t grow up with a stable father figure in my life I did see one in my grandfather until he passed on. So I do know what it’s like to associate oneself with that sort of thing. Watching you play Admiral William “Husker” Adama in that series brought me to a place I never thought I’d be – watching my own father in front of my eyes. When you cried, I cried. When you were angry, I was angry. It was a connection.

The worst of it all came during the last episode. You were riding in that Raptor, along with Roslin at your side. I knew it was going to happen, and it was just a matter of time, but when she passed on I was emotionless for a brief second. It wasn’t until you looked over at her and started to cry that I lost it. It was like watching my father break down right in front of me. I can’t really describe it as anything else, but I know that I’m not the only one who felt this way watching the series.

You had a lot of dialogue through the show, and while you’re definitely a man who can get your emotions across with words it was the times you didn’t speak that got me the most. To me you weren’t just an actor playing a character – you were a man bringing a character to life. Honestly the times throughout the series where I did know something for sure were when you broke down without speaking, stared down one of your crew with anger, or eyed Baltar with disgust.

I know you’re a busy man, and you must have a lot on your plate right now. I know you don’t know me, but one day I’d like to think you will, even if it’s just a simple hello. Watching Battlestar Galactica has left me with memories I will hold dear for the rest of my life, and I am glad I’ve gotten to know at least this side of the man that is Edward James Olmos, forever Admiral Adama.

I wish you the best in your future endeavors. Whether you think so or not, you were a great father. I know Lee was proud, and so was I. Thank you for taking me under your wing. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from you it’s that sometimes, just sometimes you’ve got to roll a hard six.

So say we all.

Sincerely,

Raine “Tank” Hutchens