MY CHILDHOOD AND teenage years were fortunate because I had never dealt with heavy personal losses. All of my grandparents were still alive, so dealing with grief was something I had yet to experience.
So, I’m cruising along in my senior year of college in early-1993, and I read in the newspaper (yes, the newspaper!) that Andre The Giant had died of a heart attack in Paris, shortly after attending his father’s funeral on January 28. He was 46. It had taken two days for the news to be reported in the United States. I didn’t cry, but this was my first experience losing someone who had been in my thoughts from a very young age. Frankly, on anniversary of his death, I’m still thinking about him.
