Denver Post January 21, 2004 Die-hard fan puts love for John Denver to good use by Gwen Florio Denver Post Staff Writer In the midst of our collective hyperventilation over the Kobe Bryant rape case, the Michael Jackson molestation morass and the Paris Hilton sex video, the way Christine Smith channels her obsession with John Denver comes as sweet relief. And the relief is widespread: Death-row prisoners in Florida get blankets, inmates' children get Christmas toys, Indian reservations get baby clothes and diapers - all sent by Smith in Denver's memory. Smith never met the singer who rose to '70s stardom with such hits as "Rocky Mountain High." She had never even so much as caught one of his concerts before he died seven years ago when the experimental plane he was flying crashed into the Pacific Ocean. It doesn't matter. When she speaks of him, she calls him, familiarly, "John." She speaks of him often. She remembers the first time she heard one of his songs. She was 4, riding her tricycle, and heard "Take Me Home, Country Roads" on the radio. It goes without saying that she finds it significant that this occurred while she was on a country road. She's the author of the self-described - repeatedly - "internationally popular" book about Denver, "A Mountain in the Wind: An Exploration of the Spirituality of John Denver." She recorded her own CD, "Feelings of Love." Two of its six songs are by Denver. The past five years, since the first anniversary of Denver's death, Smith has hosted the three-day John Denver Festival in Salida, near her Howard home. Although Denver owned a 6,849-square-foot home in Aspen, "John actually enjoyed this area," she says of Salida. Smith, 37, also runs a small charity, Dreams of Freedom, in memory of Denver, that provides toiletries and gifts - along with, of course, Denver's CDs and videos - for prisoners and others. It is, she feels, the least she can do for the man who has done so much for her. "He changed my life," she says. "He articulated what love really means in a way I could relate to and understand. For that, I will always be grateful. I would not be who I am if not for John." OK, so Smith is clearly fixated. But who are we to point the finger? After all, we still have Paris, not to mention Kobe and Michael. We're all celebrity-obsessed these days, Smith maybe a little more pointedly than the rest of us. Experts get it. "Entertainment news has become mainstream news," says James Houran, who teaches clinical psychiatry at the Southern Illinois University School of Medicine, and who studies celebrity worship. "What happened with Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck - why would we care?" Houran sees three levels of celebrity worship: the sort of passive interest and enjoyment of celebrities that most of us have (leafing through an issue of People magazine, say); a more intense stage, where people feel a personal connection to a celebrity ("John sang from the heart and he reached the heart."), and the stalker stage, where things get scary. Again, if you're bemused by Smith's Denver-inspired charitable work, which is not connected with Denver's own Windstar Foundation, consider: Houran says that, as a society, we're all moving into the second stage. "You know we are when we have news programs giving us background scoops of celebrities' private lives," he says. The recent exclusive CBS "60 Minutes" interview with Jackson apparently was granted in exchange for the network's agreeing to broadcast a previously scheduled entertainment program on Jackson that was yanked after his arrest. So Smith may be ahead of the curve. At least she channels her interest into action. The annual John Denver festival attracts upward of 150 people, says Stew Brown, a Salida Chamber of Commerce volunteer. Although Salida isn't directly involved in the festival, it now supplies a lighted "JD" sign on Tenderfoot Hill at the end of Main Street during the event. Smith estimates her Dreams of Freedom charity takes in between $3,000 and $5,000 in cash donations annually, and much more in goods such as shampoo and blankets, which are distributed to prisoners. Because the nonprofit's income is less than $25,000, it's not required to file an annual return with the IRS. And Smith is hardly alone in her regard for Denver, who in the 1970s was briefly the world's best-selling record artist. Three of his albums and four singles reached No.1 on the Billboard charts. More recently, the Denver Center Theatre Company staged a tribute, "Almost Heaven: Songs and Stories of John Denver," seen by 28,000 people in 2002, and revamped it last fall into a performance so popular that the run has been extended through Feb. 1, with hopes that it will run through May. The play inspired a parody: The Rattlebrain Theatre Company's "Almost Denver: The Songs and Failures of Jim Aurora." Smith's website - http://www.johndenverlegacy.com contains e-mail from readers from Pennsylvania, Maryland, Oklahoma, among others, all extolling the virtues of the festival and John Denver. ("John would be pleased, and I'm sure he is with all the good work you do." - CC, Colorado) Such missives are reassuring to Smith, who says she knows some people might see her as excessive. But her tributes to Denver, she says, have brought her in touch with the real lunatic fringe. "I've found that fans of John Denver, for the most part, are crazy," she says. "There's this element that's truly fanatical ... John himself must have wondered, 'Is it worth it?' I've asked myself, 'Is it worth it?"' Then she reminds herself that it is. Denver battled his own demons - two divorces, a couple of drunken-driving arrests - and that knowledge helps Smith in her own personal struggles. "His music is healing for people going through emotional or physical traumas," she says. Besides, she's found another source of inspiration: Actor Anthony Hopkins, who fought his way back from alcoholism. She has copies of 55 of his films. She's even amed her cat Hopkins. She quotes him on her website, which also features several photos of the Welsh actor, who is perhaps best known for his portrayal of a serial cannibal in "The Silence of the Lambs." And although she doesn't feel the sort of connection that lets her be on a first-name basis with him yet, she considers him a role model. "Anthony Hopkins is a mentor to me ... He focuses on his happiness and purges his life of anyone or anything that does not contribute to his happiness ... This is the way I choose to live my life." Recently, she was moved to write to Hopkins. She posted the letter on her website. She sent him some mementos: "Dear Mr. Hopkins ... Enclosed is a copy of my internationally popular book ..."