jennydreadful:

(via karentruscott)

It really is very beautiful!  Iggy is so great!

I met Iggy a number of times during my early days in NYC in the early 90’s. He lived a block away from a cafe I worked at, and would come in quite often. He was always very cool and very friendly. It seems underneath his well known exterior, was a quite caring, human and intelligent guy. A mid-western warmth that shone through. I remember a waitress I worked with, who is a wonderful soul and a dear friend, wrote him a similar note. In it she recounted years of sexual and emotional abuse at the hands of her father, a mother in denial, and a brother who was her anchor throughout all this. He was a punk rock drummer who loved Iggy’s records. Together they would play those records when the parents were gone. Songs of desperation and freedom gave them a safe place and emotional armor in the midst of a ton of pain. It helped them to cope, and gave them a place to be kids and best friends in a window of time. Sadly he was schizophrenic and died in his sleep at 18. She told him that seeing him come in always brightened her day. He brought back all the good memories of her brother from a time so limited in good feelings. The day she gave him that note, she didn’t really expect to hear back from him. When he came in at 5, and told her how much it meant to him, he gave her the strongest, most intense hug. There were tears in his eyes. In ours too. He made her feel like a million dollars. Very classy.