“When it was time for her to leave, she spread her wings high over me and said, ‘I shall return tomorrow . . .”
Sweet Angel by Jimi Hendrix
I didn’t know Lana Clarkson except by way of the news of her horrific death eighteen years ago at the hands of a legendary record producer . . . whom I also didn’t know (though I think I know some who did at one time or another). Much has been made of him since his death over the weekend. She was murdered at the tender age of 41. He died in prison at 81.
The good do die young.
I was scrolling through social media and came across a “share” by an acquaintance of mine, Mitch Lafon of Rock Talk With Mitch Lafon. It caught my eye.
Then it grabbed my heart.
It was written by a dear friend of Lana’s, Susan Michelson. It didn’t mention anything about her acting career and only slightly alluded to her modelling talent. The post talked about the real, true friendship between them – which can be rare in Tinsel Town – but real and true it was.
As I read the post, I felt compelled to share Susan’s post that Mitch had shared but I wanted permission to do so. I reached out to Mitch who pointed me to Susan. I exchanged several notes with Susan and she graciously allowed me to share her post with only a couple of changes.
As you read her post, please remember some things. They are:
There is nothing like true friendship. It should be protected and treasured.
Fame is fleeting . . . and meaningless.
If you’re cold, psychotic, and/or narcissistic, no one will want to remember you when you’re gone.
Lana, we remember you still.
Here is Susan’s post:
Phil Spector, the monster who murdered one of my dearest girlfriends, Lana Clarkson, has died in prison.
Lana brought the sunshine into the room. She was hilarious, passionate, sophisticated, earthy, wild-hearted, and full of love and life. Lana was the first person at my house to take my new baby girl for a walk through the Hollywood Hills. Through the years, she would pile my daughter and her little girlfriends into her car, take them shopping, to the movies, show them her make-up tricks, or how to "walk the runway" like a model.
When we moved my 90 year old mother-in-law from LA to Scottsdale, Lana volunteered to drive her car out, and she set up her apartment for her.
I miss the crazy adventures we shared, in California, Arizona, Maui, Italy, France.... Lana, I love you. Miss you always.