Re-Examining Robin Williams' Tragic Final Moments On What Would Have Been The Late Comedian's 70th Birthday
July 21 2021, Published 2:43 p.m. ET
He had fought so hard for so long to be there for the three children he loved more than anything else in the world. Through dark days and long, never-ending nights, Robin Williams battled to stave off the depression that threatened to engulf him for much of his adult life.
In public, he managed to keep up the facade the world expected – the wisecracking live wire always quick with a joke and that familiar twinkling, wide-mouthed smile. But in private, he was increasingly overwhelmed by despair.
And now, he was too tired to fight.
Waiting for Susan Schneider, his third wife, to go to sleep at 10 PM on Sunday, August 10, Robin didn't follow her to bed but went instead to another bedroom at the fortress-like waterfront mansion they shared overlooking San Francisco Bay in Tiburon, California.
Then he locked the door. He didn't want his wife of just three years to see what he was about to do – nor did he want her to stop him.
In a career spanning four decades, Robin had achieved more than most people could ever dream of. Despite his long battle with depression, he was adored by his three children, Zak Williams, 38, Zelda Williams, 31, and Cody Williams, 29. He had found a new love late in life with Susan, and his Oscar success in Good Will Hunting was just the icing on the cake of a Hollywood career that had brought joy to millions.
But in Robin's tormented mind, he was desperately alone. Beset with money woes, worried that his show business earning power was on the wane, and facing the onset of what was diagnosed as Parkinson's disease, he couldn't see any other way out. So he took his own life.
First, he opened a penknife and slashed his wrists but was unable to make a deep enough cut. Closing the knife, he set it aside, the blood still on the blade.
Then the actor took the belt from his pants and wedged one end between the door and the top of the doorframe. Securing the other end of the belt around his neck, Robin stood on a chair he placed by the door... and jumped.
There was no noise, no scream that would wake his wife. For a few hours at least, Robin's death in the dark of night was as private as he must have hoped it would be. There wasn't even a note. How could he tell the people he loved more than life itself that he was seeking refuge in death?