The article on the 30th anniversary of Stan Laurel’s death was of special significance to me (“Laurel Always Left ‘Em Laughing,” Calendar, Feb. 23). In the summer of 1957, I was saddened by

the death of Oliver Hardy, whom I’d never met, and I vowed to somehow meet Laurel. With luck, I did have three memorable meetings with the comic genius at his Santa Monica apartment. His

lovely wife, Ida, served us ginger ale and he showed me fan mail from China, Africa and virtually every corner of the globe. With the reopening of the Silent Movie on Fairfax Avenue a few

years ago and with the demand for Laurel and Hardy movies on video, I feel that Laurel and Hardy will “never” die. And, unlike other comedy teams who had bitter breakups, Stan Laurel and