Amy was a young actress, tall, pretty, a sweet voice, and what one would call 'stage presence.' Was she from Boston? Did that well-mannered sweetness say Boston? Although we were never close friends of hers, we loved seeing Amy play many roles in TV shows. We saw her being interviewed by keo ruug shrine solution Oprah on a piece about struggling actors. Later in the week, billed as the nameless face you've seen in so many TV shows, we even saw her do an impromptu dance with Ellen DeGeneres. For a while, she seemed to be in every talk show and situation comedy; never a big star, but always busy.

Marc and I live in a penthouse apartment and we used to have a terrace, but I convinced my husband, the co-op board, and the city to let me seal it in. For many years, Van Johnson --a mega movie star of the fifties-- lived in our building before he moved to Sutton Place; something that made us proud of living in this building. And now that Amy's career was taking off, gave us even more reason to feel pride once again.
Amy was the belle of the party.

One evening as Marc --my husband-- went for his walk, he told me that he had seen Amy in the lobby and that she was a nervous wreck; that she looked bad: red-eyed, shaky hands, twitching lips. Men can be so curt. Not only do they tell you half a story, but in the next instant they turn on the news, leaving you dangling, eager for details. Try as hard as I might, I couldn't get a good idea of what he meant. But going around and around, finally between him and the TV, I got the whole story. Amy --because of her drinking-- had been fired from different shows. And that was true, for we no longer saw her in TV; at least not with the same frequency as before.