My friend Ryne Hancock’s first post of 2021 strikes a wistful tone. For the non-New Orleanians out there, Broadmoor is an Uptown neighborhood.
The Fallacies Of Our Crushes by Ryne Hancock
In a few days, my friend Cait in Broadmoor will be turning 42.
Despite the fact that we are still in a pandemic, her birthday will include dinner, gifts from her kids and husband as well as well-wishes from friends and family for another trip around the sun.
During that same week in January of 1979, one of my first celeb crushes, Aaliyah, was born. If my memory serves correctly, according to Cait, she and Aaliyah were born two days apart.
As a wide-eyed sixth-grader, I dreamed of marrying Aaliyah. Apart from her looks, she was an honor roll student (she was valedictorian of her Detroit high school senior class) and seemed to be on the surface the type of girl you could actually take home to your mom.
Once I entered high school, Aaliyah had gone from teen prodigy to a superstar on the rise. Not only was she doing music, but she was appearing in movies such as “Romeo Must Die” with Jet Li.
Then it happened.
On August 25, 2001, Aaliyah was killed in a plane crash, dead at 22.
Unlike my friend Cait, Aaliyah never got the chance to experience marriage or motherhood. She never had the chance to mentor young ladies like KeKe Palmer (could you imagine the two of them on a podcast?), write books, and get her flowers.
In a few months, we’ll be celebrating 20 years without her on this planet, which means many of us have experienced a world without her presence almost as many years as she gave us her presence.
And it still hurts.