What makes chanteuse extraordinaire Julie Wilson's recent death particularly poignant for me is that she sang at my wedding. I didn't know her well. I just loved her. But loving isn't knowing. That was yet to come.
I spied her surrounded by admirers in the lobby of Carnegie Hall. I was with my pal Lou, who knew her. And so we joined the throng taking our turn to bask in the presence of a woman I had elevated to goddess.