On a quiet winter evening in 1992, a car pulled up in front of a humble house in Rockford, Michigan. Stepping out into the snow was a woman wrapped in a long wool coat, her head bowed against the chill. That woman was Elizabeth Montgomery. Inside the house, resting in a hospice bed set up in the living room, was Dick York — her former co-star from Bewitched. It had been over twenty years since they had last seen each other. Frail and battling the effects of emphysema, York wasn’t expecting anyone from his Hollywood past. But when he opened his eyes and saw her, emotion overtook him before he could speak.
Montgomery reached for his hand without a word. There were no cameras, no media presence — just a quiet, deeply personal reunion. A friend close to York later shared that she leaned in and gently said, “Hey, partner.” York managed a smile, whispering back, “Samantha.” It was their first real conversation since 1969, when York had left Bewitched after collapsing on set due to the intense back pain he had endured for years. Though the goodbye back then had been sudden and incomplete, he had never held resentment.
They spent hours together that evening. Montgomery recalled their early days on set — the laughter between takes, York’s mock complaints about the show’s whimsical storylines, and how she’d nudge him whenever he forgot a line. “Remember when you sneezed during the levitation scene and we had to reshoot it five times?” she said with a small smile. York, too weak to say much, nodded and squeezed her hand. Words became unnecessary. Their shared silence spoke volumes.
No reporters were allowed anywhere near the home. Montgomery had reached out to one of York’s daughters, requesting both permission and privacy. She came alone, no entourage, no makeup — simply as someone who once cared deeply and still did. A caregiver later mentioned that after she left, York repeatedly whispered through his oxygen mask, “She came all this way. She still cares.”
In later conversations with a mutual friend, Montgomery reflected on the visit. “He wasn’t just a co-star. We created something special together.” She never told the press, never spoke of it in public. That moment stayed with her — quietly preserved.
Their on-screen partnership had lit up the early seasons of Bewitched, making Samantha and Darrin Stephens one of the most cherished couples on television. But behind the scenes, York’s health struggles had made production difficult, eventually leading to his replacement by Dick Sargent. Though Montgomery adjusted, the magic of those first seasons was never quite the same.
What stood out to those nearby that night was the tenderness between them. York, weary from years of illness, clung to her presence like a lifeline. Montgomery, aware that this may be their last meeting, gave him the one thing that mattered most — her time. There were no speeches, no farewells for show. Just a moment of genuine connection.
That winter night, snow quietly blanketed the driveway as Montgomery’s car pulled away. York asked his daughter to help him sit up. He looked out the window for a long while, watching until the car disappeared from sight.
Elizabeth Montgomery’s final gift to Dick York wasn’t fame, or closure, or fanfare. It was simple presence. A quiet reminder that what they built during those five enchanting years on Bewitched had not been forgotten.
She had come not as a celebrity, but as a friend – to say goodbye.
