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I got a phonecall early on Sunday morning (31/09/1997 was a Sunday). I was, of course, fast asleep. It was my mother. “I’ve got some bad news,” says she. Oh God, what’s happened? Dad’s had a heart attack? They’ve been burgled? Never in my entire life have I been so relieved to hear the reply: all that had happened was Diana had died. I made non-committal noises of regret then returned to bed where I slept like a log.

I was reading at Drudge around 9pm when the screen refreshed and up popped his infamous red and blue (siren) light. I don’t remember the headline but I remember the content: Princess Diana is dead. John F. Kennedy Jr (with wife and sister-in-law) had just died in plane crash about six weeks before so I knew it was going to wall-to-wall coverage.

I can predict that it will be over the top next year. REALLY over the top.

But I don’t remember where I was when the news hit.

Call it a character flaw if you like, but hearing about Di’s death had no particular effect on me. Oh, I was sorry to hear the news, but I am sorry to hear of the premature death of any innocent person. What was profoundly affecting was the reaction of what seemed to be the entire population of Earth – minus myself.

That date also happens to be my birthday. I had moved to Denver in April, and for the Labor Day weekend had driven down to Taos, NM, to stay in the famous Taos Inn. As I was coming out of the restaurant after dinner, I saw the newspaper headline.

I still don’t know why they keep calling her “Princess” Diana. Yes, she had a connection of her own to the royal family, though a distant one, I understand. But she’d stopped being “Princess” when she divorced the prince, Charles. Of course people are still calling Hillary “Madam Secretary” (ha! She was the least Secretary of State-like SoS in history), even though she’s been a “private” citizen for years now.

With all the hoopla and out of curiosity, I pulled up the Paget Report. Interesting how certain people were determined to push a certain narrative even when there was no evidence for it.

Anyway, I spend a lot of time sedentary these days, gives me something to read.

What shocked me was how shoddy the French’s emergency services system was.

I loved how in the movie The Queen Charles woke up the boys in the middle of the night and told them their mother was dead. An hour later he comes out of their room and says they are going back to sleep. Right. No screaming. No crying. No hyperventilating. lol

Peter Hitchens wrote a book which began by contrasting the national crying jag over Diana with the dignified respect paid Winston Churchill on his death:

https://www.amazon.com/Abolition-Britain-Winston-Churchill-Princess/dp/189355418X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

I doubt that the intervening two decades have given him cause for optimism.

True, Ric F, and the business with the autopsies was just as shoddy.

Uncle Al: for what it’s worth, you weren’t alone.

Can’t Hark: Thank you, that’s nicely comforting.

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