Healing in the Legacy of Power Rangers

I still remember the first commercial I ever saw advertising the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.  I saw high-action scenes of costumed superheroes battling weird monsters and piloting giant dinosaur robots.  I knew absolutely nothing about this property, but I didn’t care.  I loved it.  I loved it so much that the following weekend, when I went to play at my friend’s house, we played Power Rangers.  We knew absolutely nothing about the story the show told.  We just knew it looked amazing, and we wanted to be a part of it.

After I watched the first several episodes, I was hooked.  I loved all of the characters for different reasons.  I loved Jason’s strength and Zach’s charisma.  I identified so much with Billy, the nerdy kid who made amazing grades but struggled in sports.  Kimberly was graceful, and Trini was so compassionate.  Even Tommy, the bad boy add-on in later episodes, found a place in this group of friends turned fighters and showed us all that redemption is possible for anyone.  (Hot Take: while all my friends were starry-eyed over Kimberly, I thought Trini was the true beauty in the group.  She could “speak Billy” and wasn’t weighed down by chasing what was popular.  Yeah, Tommy and Kimberly made a great couple, but I always regretted that they never explored a Billy-Trini relationship.)

I laughed, cried, cheered, and worried over every episode.  I wept when Tommy lost his powers and cheered when he came back.  I watched Billy grow in his martial arts skills, taking on the confidence that Jason so often poured into him.  I watched Zach have to struggle with missing dates because the world needed saving.  For most of my childhood, Power Rangers was a vital part of my life.  Even as an adult, I still looked back with fondness for the lessons I had learned and the memories I had shared as a fan of the franchise.  

Then November 19, 2022, happened.  The world awoke to the tragic news that Jason David Frank, whom we all knew as Tommy, had passed away.  As the days went on and more information was made available – talks of suicide, substance abuse, and family drama – the man on the screen and the man under the helmet started to fall out of sync.  I learned about the backstage drama that occurred between producers and actors, how monumental shifts in the story of the show were made because of bitter disagreements behind closed doors.  On-set bullying, clashing personalities, and arguments over who exactly owned what began to tarnish my view of the Power Rangers Legacy.  It seems that when Jason David Frank died, my idealistic view of what the Power Rangers represented died with him.  The joy I felt for the show had died, and I doubted it would ever recover.  

But then, my youngest son developed an interest in the show.  Much like me at his age, he was amazed by the action, the color, the comedy, and the story.  His favorite Ranger shifted from week to week, depending on who was at the forefront of the action.  He memorized everything and absorbed it like a sponge.  He reminded me so much of myself, and he wanted me to join him.  So, trying to be a good and present dad, I put on a smile and watched the show.

At first, I didn’t see a group of teenage friends trying to save the world.  I saw a ragtag team of overworked actors trying to meet an ungodly work schedule while barely making enough money to pay for rent.  I saw strong personalities clashing behind scenes only to force smiles when the director yelled “Action!”  I said nothing to my son, of course, but my heart still hurt.  

But he didn’t see any of that.  All of the wonder, the idealism, the faith in believing good can win out over evil – it was reflected back in the eyes of my little boy.  In watching him, I remembered what it was like to be amazed at Zordon’s wisdom, laugh at Alpha 5’s overreactions, and fist pump the air when that eternal phrase echoed across the living room – “It’s Morphin Time!”  Even when Tommy appeared again, knowing that the man on the screen fought with inner demons he could not beat, I still felt the wonder again of what Power Rangers had meant to me for so many years.  

Finally, at Geek’d Con this year, my youngest son and I got the chance to meet Billy and Zach.  Upon meeting these men, I was able to ask them the one question that I wished I could have asked JDF over and over: “Are you okay?”  They both were kind, assuring me that they were.  It probably was an odd interaction for them, but it meant everything to me.  It was a moment of healing, a chance to finally bring some closure to old wounds and remember what Power Rangers was always supposed to be.  

My son and I attended their panel later that day, and it was refreshing to be in a room full of people who appreciated and respected what Power Rangers was meant to be.  It was a big moment for my son, who asked questions of them that they both were excited to answer.  As we drove home that evening, I had felt something about Power Rangers that I had not felt in quite a while – joy.

Joel 2:25 says, “I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten.”  God wastes nothing in helping us grow through our rough times.  Even when things seem bleak, even joy that once seemed unshakable is broken apart and stripped away from you, there is still hope.  The Lord is able to restore what was lost.  Sometimes all it takes is a chance to see things through the eyes of a child again.  

Stay Devoted.  Peace and Love.

And may the power protect you.