Philip Seymour Hoffman, Heroin Stamps, Lester Bangs, and a Whole Lot of Toasters

February 3, 2014 — 82 Comments



The first thing I did was Google what heroin stamp it was that killed Philip Seymour Hoffman.

I wanted to know. Not that I would recognize the name. The names are relevant to 2014, not 1994. “Obamacare,” “Call of Duty,” “Hangover Part 2.”

Heroin stamps are used by drug distribution crews to mark products. Each stamp represents a different quality of heroin; a different strain, a different high.


In case any of you are interested in heroin stamps


It was Ace of Hearts and Ace of Spades.

Next, I went online to the heroin community threads to see what the reviews were of these stamps. There are many sites devoted to the detailed analysis of every stamp existing, with rating systems like these:

City or state stamp was copped in:
Stamp name:
Stamp Color:
Stamp Graphic (if any):
Color and Consistency/texture of Product:
Quality/neatness of stamp and packaging:
Quantity of Product (1-10 scale):
Quality of Product (1-10 scale):
ROA: IV, intranasal/sniffed, smoked, etc.
Other comments (duration of high, any weird effects, is this a new batch of the same stamp, anything unusual about the dope, etc):

For the record:



I read about EVERYTHING.

There’s even a chick who has an entire blog devoted to analyzing stamp quality. I was just about to link it, but somehow, I just didn’t think that was a good idea.

I’m angry because the smack that killed Philip Seymour Hoffman, for several weeks now, has been flagged for containing a lethal mixture of heroin laced with fentanyl.

If he’d even been remotely aware of that, he’d be alive today, and three children would still have a father.






I’ve been an avid theater goer for as many years as I can remember. I was especially invested in seeing theater the years I lived in New York, and was a bartender and cocktail waitress in after hour clubs. an aspiring actress. I’ve seen hundreds of plays.

And Philip Seymour Hoffman gave me, perhaps, one of the most thrilling nights of theater I’ve ever witnessed. Top three, I would say.

In 2000, he starred in “True West,” written by iconic American playwright Sam Shepard.
It’s a raw and darkly comic story of two brothers who engage in a ferocious onstage battle of sibling rivalry.

And, because it’s family, no one wins.

What made this play something that had never been done before – was that these two actors had decided that on any given night – they would SWITCH ROLES.

This might not seem like a big deal. It was, in fact, groundbreaking.

As an actor, in order to be really good, you have to live and breathe a character.

You have to get inside his skin and embody his every thought, dream and desire, so by the time you get on that stage, there is not one false note.

There’s no room for a false note. There’s no director yelling, “Cut!” so you can try it again.

It’s LIVE. You’d better have it right. Otherwise, you just sound like you’re speaking empty words.

I know this because I have given mediocre performances that sounded like I was just talking. But every so often, the magic kicked in, and I gave a spectacular performance.

I breathed life into a character – and the audience breathed with me. It’s palpable. You know you’ve got it right, because your energy and theirs hum along together on an electric current that fuels you to greatness.

Just their faces on the Playbill cover made me want to see this

Just their faces on the Playbill cover made me want to see this


The characters in True West are as diametrically opposed as two characters can possible be. And the idea that the two actors – Philip Seymour Hoffman and John C. Reilly – could actually do either role on any given night – was nothing short of SPECTACULAR.

It BLEW ME AWAY. It both inspired me as and actress – and, I’ll admit – completely humbled me.

Philip Seymour Hoffman OWNED that stage from the second he walked onto it.

And in my heart of hearts, I knew I would never, ever, ever be that good.

The play is always associated with toasters. Many, many toasters.

Austin, the younger brother (who was played by Hoffman the night I saw it) starts out as the hardworking, straight-laced younger brother.

By the second act, he has traded personalities with his thieving older brother, and has robbed the entire neighborhood of their toasters.

Shepard’s use of Austin’s complete and total satisfaction with his stolen toasters is the literal negation of the American Dream as defined in modern life.

He experiences WINNING – because he’s successful as a toaster thief.

Philip Seymour Hoffman went on to grace the Broadway stage with performances that were second to none. He was special to us – to New Yorkers. He graduated from NYU with a degree in theater. He lived here, right in the Village. Raised his children here.

He belonged to us.

And the night he died, the lights on Broadway were a little less bright.

true west stolen toasters

Do they even make toasters like this anymore?





Many of you are probably familiar with the movie “Almost Famous.”

almost famous

GREAT sunglasses


It came out the same year I saw True West.  it’s a coming of age film that follows a starry-eyed teenage rock writer on the road with one of the nation’s biggest up-and-coming bands.

It’s a beautifully written story of rock and roll, love, and of our own limitations.

The film has beautifully nuanced performances, and some unforgettable moments.


“One day, you’ll be cool. Look under your bed. It will set you free.”


For me- unequivocably? It was Philip Seymour Hoffman’s portrayal of the late, great rock journalist Lester Bangs.

Lester Bangs wasn’t just a rock journalist – he was THE rock journalist.

There has never been a rock writer like him before, or since.

He was demonic, passionate, hilarious, irreverent cough-syrup fueled madman, who lived the rock and roll life while writing about it – and tragically, died a rock and roll death of a drug overdose, at 33.

I grew up in a music-dominated household. My older brothers all read Creem Magazine, Rolling Stone, The Village Voice.

And, because I was a nerd, I read all the magazines that were laying around the house. By the time I was my son’s age, I was reading (although not at all understanding) Lester Bang’s music reviews.

When I was older, long after Bangs was dead, I fully appreciated who he was. He didn’t just write about rock music.

He lived it, celebrating its excesses, drawing energy from the chaos, and matching its passion in prose that erupted from those magazines.

“Music, you know, true music, not just rock and roll, it chooses you, it lives in your car, or alone listening to your headphones with vast scenic bridges or angelic choirs in your brain. It’s a place apart from the vast benign lap of America.”

This is not rock journalism.

This is poetry.


Yes, he was a Freaking Mess.


If you watch Lester Bangs on YouTube, you will see that Philip Seymour Hoffman captured the very essence of this man.

Is it any wonder that the best scenes of Almost Famous are the ones in which Hoffman portrays Lester Bangs?

The best line from Almost Famous is an actual quote of Lester Bangs.

“The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.”

The scene is just beautiful.


Philip Seymour Hoffman is gone. His three children have lost a father. The world has lost an amazing actor.

The silver lining in the dark cloud of the death of these two geniuses – is that they left indelible marks, and we get to revisit the genius of their work.



This is my favorite scene from “Almost Famous.”



Did you have a reaction to Philip Seymour Hoffman’s death? 
Talk to me. I’m listening. 

82 responses to Philip Seymour Hoffman, Heroin Stamps, Lester Bangs, and a Whole Lot of Toasters


    Lovely tribute and so so sad about the junk.


    Magnolia. Never forgotten.


      Trent, that’s considered by many to be his best performance.

      There are so many. Who can say?


        He grounded that movie for me. First time I watched someone peripheral find the anchor. For me, he was the counterpoint to the theme, the thick type of in-between character that nudges onto both sides, ends up defining them. He was the first thing I thought about after The Smile – the quickest, most elusive 0.5 second means of defining a movie I can remember seeing, and at that, the very last 0.5 seconds of the movie as a whole (all 3 hours of it). I could have done without any of the other major characters in that movie (including Cruise), but I could not have done without PSH and his interactions with the old man and Julianne Moore.


        You would write great movie reviews. Spectacular.


    It saddened me when I read about Philip Seymour Hoffman’s death. Such a great, GREAT talent. I had hoped it wasn’t a drug overdose. ~~sigh~~ Then it made me angry because it was such a waste. It’s not like I was even remotely connected to the man and yet all these feelings flow. I can’t imagine all the emotions his family and friends must be feeling… trying to deal with. This was a lovely tribute, Samara.


      Cheryl, I didn’t know him either, but it didn’t stop me from having a million feelings over his death.

      Thank you for reading, and for commenting. I really appreciate that you do.


    Most beautiful thing I’ve read about him today. Thank you for this. I hadn’t known about the play. Sounds fascinating and amazing.


    Thanks for this, Samara. Lots of people were tweeting about his death and I didn’t even know who he was.


      You’re so welcome, Cimmy.

      I’m glad I was able to show you a little bit of who he was, from my perspective.

      Of course, he was so much more.


        Well, to my knowledge, nobody can ever be summed up in just a few words on a blog post. Still, I hope you’ll pardon my flattery when I say that I’m sure you summed him up nicely.


      Hijacking for just a sec because I don’t want Cimmy to sell herself short…

      Cimmy was a theater tech major, and she’s got talent with makeup design. Even if she doesn’t know Hoffman, she’s got some knowledge of the theater.


    It’s not so hard to be brilliant but living day in, day out with your own brilliance? Now THAT is the loneliest place on earth. RIP P.S.H

    Well written, Darl


    I am so bummed too to hear about his passing. He was wonderful. He always reminded me of my husband a little in that they have a very similar aura and are brilliant in a very effortless way. I wish I could have seen the play you describe. It sounds amazing.


      Hey Em-
      I’m so glad you read this –

      Your husband must have an amazing aura. And I’m all about auras. I can read them.

      Even in the blogosphere.


    Capote. Almost famous. My favourite performances of his. Death of a legend.



      Holy shit.

      He TRANSFORMED himself for that one. I believe he won the Oscar for that, didn’t he? Stayed in character the entire time they were filming.



    You breathed life with me, today, as I read your words about the man, the stamps, the play and the movie.

    This is FANTASTIC work, Samara, Creem-worthy, Rolling Stone-quality. Damn. You got the sadness and pain and importance to our culture and society just right.

    And as a postscript, ‘Almost Famous’ is a great movie, and PSH as Lester Bangs was the sneaky side guy who stole every scene he was in, for sure.


    Perfect. Thank you Samara. I have been reading about his death and there are a few articles that have nailed it, this is one of them. I dislike people ranting about how he was a father and should not have been taking drugs. Addiction is an awful disease and no one would ever chose addiction or death over their families.

    Beautiful words for an amazing talent. x


      Thank you, Daile.

      Addiction is a disease.

      He didn’t do this to hurt his children. From all accounts, he was a loving father.

      But I am just so sad for his family right now.


    And, on the heels of this wonderful story today, Samara, I nominate you for the Dragon’s Loyalty Award, for your devotion to the Little Dude and the way you champion his education, and your fierceness toward your beliefs. Keep breathing fire, my friend.


      Thank you so much for this.

      The fact that you mentioned Little Dude makes this just about the sweetest award EVER.

      Mark, you’re the best. I mean it.


        Little Dude is part and parcel with your life, Samara, and yes, I notice and appreciate that about you. You are very welcome and deserving of this and many awards.


    This was so awesomely written. Really. You shed light on and gave flesh and new meaning to something I had already been listening to stories about on NPR all day. You just hit it. Thank you for putting the pieces together for us in this totally insightful way. Really. Just… yes.


      Thank you, Jen.

      Following you now.


        Aw, thanks. I’m so glad I found your blog not so long ago. You always just put it out there, and I totally admire that. Authenticity can just power through so much of the junk. Even this post, about a relative stranger, with your authentic voice, just works.


    I was talking to a coworker about this today. She, a younger lass, had nothing more than a “meh” when confronted with this story. We spoke a little bit more and I said, in a non-plussed, curious manner “you have no empathy, do you?” She replied “you take a chance when you put needles in your arms”. Zing, indeed. She missed the point and got the point (no pun intended, of course).

    A tabloid called him a “junkie dad”. For shame. PSH had 23 years of clean and sober time. But the illness never leaves an addict and/or alcoholic. I know because I am an alcoholic….recovered with a couple years behind me. That tiny wee voice that likes to beckon us with titanic roars and mousy enchantments is always there. It likes to whisper sweet nothings. It is cunning, baffling and powerful. Oh, and patient. 23 years is a long time. He’d be an old timer, in my parlance. But the isolation and loneliness of a suffering addict / alcoholic is immeasurable. Ones who are still engaged in their recovery learn to be connected to others, to assuage that despair and to be fully in one’s skin. Somewhere along the line, that voice in conjunction with all the other things that tend to bring us down, finally beat down enough on PSH…as it does all other addicts who return to using.

    And it’s tragic. It only takes on binge, on shot, one run. I know lots of guys and gals that didn’t make it. Lots of funerals when it comes to the peeps I hang with. But lots of joy too – a band of should-be-dead folks discussing the intricacies of life. How insane and beautiful is that?

    Hoffman was a supremely gifted actor. I loved his acting. I loved his energy. And I loved HIM as a fellow traveller along a path that many don’t even get to embark on. We all have those things that take us away from pain. But through that pain is a light. Addict or not, there is a light that shines through the facade, the act, the noise. That is the Authentic. The True. The Inspired. You share that light with everyone here in your writing. You share that in your grief, and we come together in that grief and shine forth more.

    He will be missed. But there will be more. And more again. And others will finally choose to shine.

    Shine on up there, Philip. You’re home.

    Thanks for sharing this, Samara. You uplifted this alkie’s heart.



    Thanks for the tribute. He was such a tremendous actor and will be much missed.


    I think (hope) that his death will have some meaning – I hope that people will look at a celebrity dying from a drug overdose and realize that THIS is how big the problem is – drug addiction can kill anyone, even people with everything to live for. Time for the US to start treating drug addiction like a health problem and not like a criminal problem, in my opinion.


      I hoped, in my little tiny way, that if even ONE junkie realizes they can check out what they put into their veins before they do- and maybe it saves a life-
      I’ll feel like I helped someone.

      I could never presume to cure an addict. But they can at least know what’s out there.


    This was a really terrific piece Samara. I’ve always been a big fan of his; your thoughtful and personally insightful post made me an even bigger fan — and just a bit more sad for all of us.


    Everyone else has already said it better than I can.

    This is perfect. I’ve seen 15-plus films with Hoffman, and I learned more about the man here than by watching any one of those.

    Thanks for making time for this.


    I remember lying in bed, terrified, listening while they walked up and down Clinton Street yelling, “Poison! Poison! I have poison!” I kept asking myself why I left Brooklyn.

    I fucking hate Philip Seymour Hoffman. Anyone who gets to do what they love, get paid in mountains of cash to do it and then THROWS IT AWAY is not someone to be pitied or mollycoddled or understood. He left children. He’s a douche. Sorry. I know how callous that sounds but here in the interweb we get to say how we really feel.

    I also saw that production of True West. Hoffman played Austin the night I was there as well. I had friends who went twice to see how they handled each role. I could barely afford one performance but I managed to find the scratch. I had to. I made it a priority.

    I was on the high school newspaper. One of my buddies called Lester Bangs and got a brief interview with him for our newspaper. I didn’t appreciate it at the time. Do we ever?


      I love you Mark, but STOP. IT.

      Please. Try and understand. Addiction is a disease.

      By all accounts he loved his family- I almost included a picture of him with his kids- there are HUNDREDS- he was a complete hands-on dad.

      That production of True West I found thrilling. What I really regret? Not seeing his portrayal of Willy Loman. Supposedly, no other actor will touch that role now.

      Still love you. But no calling one of my heroes a douche. Please???


        Those are my overriding my emotions this morning, flawed as they are. I’d rather put them out there and risk looking like a fool than censor what I’m feeling for the sake of sounding magnanimous.

        I tried, tried, tried and couldn’t score a ticket to Death of a Salesman. They were selling at a premium well outside my range of affordability.


        You’re right.

        Who told me, DON’T SCRUB YOUR POSTS!


        Carry on, sir. My blog is open to all opinions, whatever they are.


        That’s a risky proposition. You can alienate people by saying what’s on your mind. You might think less of me for my initial lack of compassion (although I doubt that’s the case here). But I’d rather you know me flaws and all.


        You do realize you cyber talking to the blogger who wrote “I Agree With Amy Glass and I’m Not Sorry?”

        I have to worry about what I say at work, to other moms, in front of my kid.

        I’ll be damned if I censor myself, or you, here.

        The overriding view was of anger for PSH doing this to his family.

        For me, it was about heroin stamps, Lester Bangs, and toasters. Write what you feel.


        Sorry – couldn’t find the reply to the reply to the reply button 🙂

        I can certainly relate to projection and anger and envy and all those things, Mark! I am an idiot savant when it comes to jealousy, in particular…then and now. I am embarrased to admit that, but that’s the human condition stuck in this bag of meat and bones. Addict or not, we all have our “things”. Mine is just about mind as it is a substance. I just introduced substance to the party. Ugh. I wonder if that is why we all blog – work these kinks out, talk to others, learn to not run with scissors, etc. lol.

        I loves me a good chinwag, and thanks for supplying a groovy place to have it, Samara. And thanks Mark for your comments. I always come away with something whenever I get out here and read engaging conversation.

        Be well, y’all. 🙂

        P.S Following Mark now.


        He was incredible in Death of a Salesman. I wrote my first post about his death, and how I felt. I wish I could’ve seen him in True West. Just reading the recollections of people who did get to see it leave me in awe.


      I understand that this is one point-of-view on any one or any star that seemingly throws their life away to addiction. I can tell you from first hand experience that absolutely we do crappy stuff in our addictions. We lie, cheat, steal…we do anything to keep the jig up. And when we stop all that, we realize we have caused a lot of damage. In recovery we clean that stuff up. Do our best to live a life of service, love and compassion. Give back. We’re human too. What you will see is that we aren’t bad people but sick people. And some of us get better.

      Come over to my little corner of the interweb, where we all come together and talk recovery, life, kids, etc. No douches over there. We did do douchebaggery stuff, but we’re not defined by our actions. We’re dads, moms, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters who are clean, sober and do the very best we can. Some of the kindest, gentlest, most inspiring people I have met in my life were alcoholics / addicts. Still are, but clean.

      May not mean much, I know. Stigma is still high, but we do our best. At least I do. One need not understand what it’s like to be an alcoholic / addict, and we can be vilified for our past deeds, for sure. Anger is high when on the surface it seems that we are tossing away a good thing…and sometimes we do, but there is compulsion that drove us that goes above and beyond anything.

      I take responsibilty for all that I did in my past. I have made amends to everyone that I needed to. Is that enough? I don’t know. I hope. I just live every day trying to be of service to my family, my coworkers, fellow bloggers and strangers. Give back to the universe type deal. May not be for everyone, and I may or may not sway anyone on their God-given right to an opinion, but I know that when given an opportunity, I try to say my little piece. Perhaps turn a head or two. Or not. All I can do is give the world a spit-on-the-hand handshake and move on . Pat on the back. Agree to disagree if need be. Keep the peace.

      That’s my $0.02 🙂


      P.S sorry if I hijacked there, Samara. Feel free to remove 🙂


        I like to think of this as an open forum, for all to express what they want. I would never remove this.

        Mark is free to reply from his point of view. I hope he does.

        Or anyone, for that matter.


        Projection is my defense mechanism of choice. Because I haven’t done all that well myself, never realized my potential, when I see someone who HAS achieved their dream and then toss it away on addiction, I understand why it happened, but if I’m being honest with myself and with everyone else, I have to admit that my first and overriding emotion is anger. Now, is that fair? No, sir, it is not. But it’s another cheap, unattractive emotion, like envy, that’s part of the human condition. Better to acknowledge it, turn to face it, and deal with it.


        Haven’t done all that well yourself????


        If you can, take a moment and read this beautiful post by Mark, the voice behind Exile On Pain Street.

        Mark is an amazing father to two beautiful girls.
        If that’s not doing well, nothing is.


        Thank you, dear but the pic from that post–the note from my daughter–is still in limbo and not pointing properly yet. There’s still a lot of work to be done on my new site. I’ll get them up as soon as I can.


        Get that note up!!!

        It’s intrinsic to the point I was trying to make!!!

        Well, everyone should read your blog anyway – it’s fantastic.


        I have a note in to our developer and will post it the second I get it.

        Thanks for your kind words. You’re the best. xoxo


        I have the pics of my daughter’s note uploaded on that post you linked. I hadn’t read it in quite some time. It just kills me. What a sweet kid. And the world is just going to rough her up the same way it does everyone. It breaks my heart.


        NO IT WON’T.

        Because she has YOU for a father.

        And that will make all the difference. I swear it will.


      Exile, You’re really angry that this gifted talent man, that had the dream job and family was doing what we all seek for ourself and threw it away. I a sense your spot on. However junkies and addicts are fucking diseased people, they make terrible choices in the name of the high they seek of life they seek to hide from. They suffer unexplainable pain that cannot be removed or talked out by a therapist so they keep make horrible choices. I happened tp love Hoffmans work and saw a lot of it. I never saw him on Broadway but heard he was great.
      Carry the Message= he’s a great articulate blogger that has quite a bit to say and probably gives up too much annonymity but it is his own. I don’t like that he keeps referring to the word Recovered. I’m a 12 stepper and I know for me that I will never be recovered, I am always recovering and do my best to not use junk or drink a day at a time.
      Samara, this was such a strong piece you wrote it should be framed. Thank you for your contrbution to the blogging world.


    What a great tribute to a phenomenal actor. I keep thinking about him as well, and what a damn shame it is that he is gone.


      He was so phenomenal, wasn’t he?

      I was just thinking how great he was in everything I’ve ever seen him in.

      He was considered to be the finest actor of his generation. I can’t believe he’s gone.


    wow… that was so well written… I learned stuff… lots of stuff… now I want to see more of this guy…


    This is going to sound terrible…
    I have become numb, indifferent, to the passings of celebrities. He was talented, no doubt, but he was still just a man, and choices he made took him from this world same as they might (and have) for anyone else. Sounds harsh. Sounds uncaring. Sounds cold. I know, but … but, I refuse to afford him any extra sorrow than I would for the guy down the street, working two jobs, with a van full of kids (too), that makes the same choice and ends up the same way. Does that make sense? Does that make me a heartless wretch?
    (I’m fairly certain this is the hardest comment I’ve ever left for you. There have been many deletings and rewordings and pauses for reflection. It is obvious that he meant a great deal to you as an actor, and I don’t want to take anything away from. I don’t want to cheapen your sense of loss. I understand that my opinions on the matter are mine alone.)
    On a happier note, I am constantly in awe of how you piece your posts together. You see these connections and you weave them together seamlessly. As I’ve said before, you are a fantastic writer.


      You should comment exactly as you feel, and nothing else. Others had negative and/or harsh reactions to his death, and everyone’s opinion is welcome here.

      The blogosphere is a think tank, right?

      Yes. He meant a great deal to me. How he died meant a great deal to me. I’m still a little in shock. He was such a hands on father- always spotted strolling around with his kids. What was he thinking???

      I cherish every comment you make. And especially every compliment you pay me, because I know for a fact they are sincere. Thank you, friend.


        You are welcome.
        I’m not sure I have the right words to offer you any solace here, though I truly wish I did.
        I know that I am lucky that my brush with drugs was never addicting and never too dangerous. I know that I’m lucky that that is the case. I know that the world is messed up and sometimes we make the wrong choices when are trying to make sense of it all. I know that we all make mistakes that others look on and wonder how we could have been so careless, so foolish. We see this world differently, every single one of us, and therefore our choices are our own. Our faults are our own. Our triumphs, our joys, our demons.
        Which circles back to: I wish I had the right words to share with you, to take away your pain, your concerns, your fears….


    You did such a beautiful job of writing about his work, and how it touched your life. I’m very moved by your tribute.

    That’s why I left that out of my post, because I knew someone else would take care of it for me. And do it better than I ever could.


    As an actor, in order to be really good, you have to live and breathe a character. You have to get inside his skin and embody his every thought, dream and desire, so by the time you get on that stage, there is not one false note.

    Is there a difference when classical training is involved, vs. method acting? Because to the best of my understanding, the method approach dives much more deeply into that.

    It’s good to see a post from you again, samara. Was worried about you. Put you and your BFF’s name on the prayer roll at the temple today.


    I’m holding a pseudo beauty pageant at Cimmy’s Stories in March and I could use your help. Please follow the link below to see what I’m inviting you to help me with.



    He’s never really going to have gone (crap grammar), not while there are people to appreciate who & what he did…

    To plagiarise & follow your musical reference (& more…) (& thanks for the memories of LB)…

    Phillip S Hoffman’s dead.
    No, no, no, no, He’s outside looking in.
    Phillip S Hoffman’s dead.
    No, no, no, no, He’s outside looking in.
    He’ll fly his astral plane,
    Takes you trips around the bay,
    Brings you back the same day,
    Phillip S Hoffman Phillip S Hoffman

    Taken from the Moody Blues (but I’d bet you knew that)

    What a gift some people have, including you!



      I think that grammar is actually right.

      Thank you for thinking I have a gift, for reading, for commenting, for always being there. I appreciate it so much. You have no idea.


    Hi Samara

    *The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.”*

    This has gone into my top 5 favourite quotes (now top 6, as I can’t bring myself to discard anything)

    Thanks for everything



    I’ll always remember where I was and what I was doing when I heard that he was gone. I cried. Sometimes, I still do.


      Oh, Renee.

      It killed me. I loved him. Besides being one of my favorite actors, who treated me to a night of theater I never forgot, he was such a family man.

      There were always pictures of him walking his daughters to school. He was a real down to earth, “hands on” dad. Yes.

      I am SO HAPPY you visited my blog. It kinda made my night! There are so many bloggers to get to know, it sometimes feels like there aren’t enough hours in the day!
      Thank you for reaching out and helping us connect. xoxo

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