I finally saw “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” (Episode VII), with my son Jeremy and daughter-in-law Rose. The time is set 30 years after the Galactic Empire’s defeat; and as a matter of coincidence, 38 years-plus have passed since that saga’s first movie premiered (May 25, 1977).

But the biggest coincidence is a personal one: my daughter Rachel is 38 years old, born in 1977, the year Elvis and Bing Crosby passed, and year of “Star Wars’” advent.

My late wife Diane and I saw it at a Danville theater that has since become church (but for some, “Star Wars” is almost religion too; with not-thinly veiled allusion to the all-pervading “Force” of the Holy Ghost).

In June of that year, I visited my mother (Lorraine Williams), living then in Ridge Street’s Hanford Apartments. I told her she HAD to see “Star Wars”; so at the appropriate time, we headed to Salisbury’s old Terrace Theater.

Back then, the Terrace was the first thing sighted of a “Salisbury nature” when exiting downtown off of Interstate 85 South.

At movie’s end, my mother declared “Star Wars,” “The best science-fiction movie I’ve ever seen” (meaning much, as she was a fan of science fiction/horror back to Lon Chaney, Sr.).

Her interest in that genre went “viral to me,” addicting me to Edgar Allen Poe and late-night movies on television, hosted by Shock Theater’s Dr. Paul Bearer.

After seeing the first “Star Wars” movie, I purchased the paperback, in this case a book preceded by a movie. Since the novel “Gone With the Wind” preceded the 1939 film, readers probably had their own idea of Rhett and Scarlett before portrayals by Gable and Leigh; but while reading my “Star Wars” paperback, I only pictured Hamill, Fisher and Ford.

I was working then at the Caswell County Department of Social Services in Yanceyville, as well as being on the board of the Caswell Parish, an organization similar to Rowan’s old RCCM (Rowan Cooperative Christian Ministry).

The Parish board decided to put on a haunted house in the old Caswell County Jail, at one time the site of the Parish’s “Clothing Closet” (used clothing store).

The old jail was already pretty spooky, having an indoor trapdoor through which the “hangee” would fall; but which was never used during the building’s tenure as County Jail (from late 19th century till 1973).

Still feeling the effects of “Star Wars,” for my character I chose Darth Vader. I don’t think any professional costumes were yet available, but size-D battery “flashlight-sabers” were.

My late wife’s aunt Joan made my cape from black cloth, and I used my brother-in-law Wayne’s U.S. Army helmet, modified with aluminum foil to more resemble Vader’s (unnecessary if a World Wars German helmet).

I fashioned Vader’s “breath-screen” out of aluminum foil, then turned both breath-screen and helmet from aluminum “silver” to traditional “Darth Vader black” with a can of spray paint.

A “problem” developed, because despite spraying on the back porch, the smell of spray paint pervaded our little, loose-fitting house, even to my daughter Rachel’s room where she was asleep in her crib.

Despite Autumn’s chill (things were normal back then), we threw open all the windows as Diane exclaimed that my Darth Vader outfit was going to asphyxiate all three of us.

By Halloween, my “breath-screen” had aired out enough to become “breathable,” and a scary time was had by all at the Caswell Parish haunted house! Ghouls and vampires occupied the old, graffiti-inscribed (by former prisoners) cells, while I gave the attendees one last scare upon their exit. Not equipped electronically, I “exhaled” my own breath upon the public in Darth Vader fashion.

Someone from the Yanceyville newspaper was present, so a picture of me as Darth Vader was “archived.”

When moving in 1988, and sorting out things to “keep” and “throw,” my wife told me told to consign my “brother-in-law-U.S. Army/Vader helmet” to the trash man. It rests in the Caswell County landfill, in probably almost as bad a condition as Kylo Ren’s partially-melted (but lovingly cherished) memento of his late grandfather.

I called my daughter, Rachel the other day and told her of going to see “Star Wars VII.” She’s seen it, but said she wouldn’t mind seeing it again; so we plan to take it in when she’s next in town.

Sitting there, we will be experiencing not just “the latest mega-hit from Hollywood,” but also, a “life-related” event.