by REBECCA SPARROW
Today is the 15th anniversary of Princess Diana’s death after a horrific car accident in France in 1997.
I remember exactly where I was when I was told that Princess Diana had died.
I was behind the wheel of my white Barina, pulling into my parents’ driveway, a CD blaring, when my father motioned for me to wind down the window.
I rolled my eyes.
He’s going to complain about me parking him in, I thought.
‘There’s been an accident’, he said. ‘With Princess Di.’
Words then floated from his mouth. I heard something about Dodi being dead. Paris. A car. Seatbelts. Diana was alive but badly injured. That’s what we thought.
I tumbled inside the house, past my mum who squeezed my arm and whispered to no-one in particular, “I hope nothing has happened to her beautiful face.’ (Fifteen years earlier my mum had slipped away from her secretarial desk in the city and stood in the crowds to catch a glimpse of Princess Di on her first Australian tour. She was tall, so much taller than you think, my mum had reported back to me that afternoon, as I lay on my bed, face in my hands, desperate for details. And her skin is exquisite. LIke peaches and cream).
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It was late at night, about 11:30pm and I was in my bed watching the TV when the show was interrupted with the announcement that she was in an accident. I am in the Midwest USA, so there's a 6 hour difference. And I remember thinking "oh no, no no...it can't be." And yes, I was one of those people too. I cried for days and then off and on for a year.
The thing is, famous people die all the time. But only occasionally do we watch the world stop and really express mass grief when certain people die. It happened when John Lennon died, but there was hardly a news blurb when George Harrison died. So while I know people think they are cool to say they "don't care" about Diana's death. Please then explain why did they click on the link and read at least part of your article? It's just to try to hurt the rest of us who do care. She was special, kind, flawed and beautiful. I miss her still.
Princess Diana died 5 days after my 5th birthday. It's the first memory I have of my father crying. After explaining what had happened to me, I responded with, "Oh Daddy I'm so sorry. That lady did so much for our town". I lived in Grafton, Northern NSW. Ha ha! I'll make such a good journalist!