My heart is aching. My eyes are swollen from crying, having just talked to Joan Laurer’s manager Anthony Anzaldo on the phone and been told that Chyna, the 9th Wonder of the World was no longer with us; gone at only 45.
I will always be grateful for the friendship I shared with her, but particularly so for the kindness she showed my children, especially Noelle when she was younger – taking her by the hand at WWE events in the late 90’s – off to have her makeup done, her fingernails painted; bonding time between big, strong Joanie, and her tiny sidekick. A father doesn’t forget that type of kindness.
I didn’t know whether to post a classic photo of Chyna in her WWE prime or of Joanie from the last time I saw her – about 10 months ago at a convention on Long Island. I went with the photo from the convention because of the emotion; because it was taken at the exact moment I saw her for the first time in many years. I was told later that Joanie wasn’t sure how I would react to her, and that it meant a great deal to be accepted. Like I said, a father doesn’t forget. I called home on my way back from the convention – only about 40 minutes from my house. “I’m bringing a friend over to watch the pay-per-view” I said to my wife.
“Who’s that?”, my wife asked.
And that was pretty much that. A mother, you see, doesn’t forget the kindness shown to her child, either.
I am so glad we had that night with Joanie. A night to let her know how much we cared about her, whether it was politically correct or not. A night to let her know we loved her -and always will. RIP my dear friend. I pray that somehow in death, you can find the peace that eluded you so frequently during the latter years of your remarkable life.