“I’m singing from my heart, from my soul, and that’s it.”
— Whitney Houston, “Clive Davis: The Soundtrack of Our Lives”
Whitney Houston seemingly had it all—beauty, poise, charm and most of all that voice penetrating the depths of one’s soul—America’s soul.
What the world did not know were the shadows, the broken heart, that this top female recording artist, selling 200 million records worldwide, struggled with. Sure, they knew the marital troubles and the drugs. But they did not know the depths of it all, that sunk her, quite literally, 10 years ago today, aged 48, in that deep Beverly Hilton bathtub, her death ruled accidental, heart disease and a small amount of cocaine contributing factors. Having stayed in the exact kind of room at that iconic hotel, it’s not hard to imagine how she became submerged in that luxury tub, soon to breathe her last.
Then, too, she had a deep well of faith, reflected in her wishing the returning troops on Pascal Sunday, March 31, 1991, “Happy Easter, to you, too!” Welcome Home Heroes with Whitney Houston, her first television concert, was broadcast live on HBO TV from a hangar at the Naval Air Station in Norfolk, Virginia, where she honored some 3,500 servicemen and women returning home from Operation Desert Storm, belting out, among other songs, her beautiful rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. After singing this, our national anthem, at Super Bowl XXV two months earlier in Tampa Bay, she was determined the troops, who had given so much for our country, should be similarly feted. She got more than she gave, commenting: “Until I spent time with these military people, I didn’t really appreciate how special they are. I was surrounded by courteous, brave men and women … I sang my heart out to them … and still felt them give more in return.”
Some twenty-one years later, she would lose her life in the culture wars, i.e., 1992-2012 iteration, not unlike many young veterans of the Gulf Wars who suffer from PTS.
It will take years to wrap our minds around her own particular tragedy, which, three years later, would envelop and end the life of her beloved daughter Bobby Kristina in parallel fashion, as documented in Lifetime’s “Whitney Houston & Bobbi Kristina: Didn’t We Almost Have It All.”
Having written about legends of Hollywood, I have an understanding of how chemical escape from the bright klieg lights for stars, whose natural creative bent is fragile, sensitive, and emotional, is so common, even understandable.
Often, the greater the artistry the more susceptible the artist to the chemical siren call. Whitney had high anxiety—never thought she was good enough—and alcohol and drugs helped alleviate this stress.
The habit intensified after she filmed The Bodyguard (1992) and wed Bobby Brown, whom she met in 1989 when both were at the top of their careers. Her drug use would conspire, along with cigarettes, to destroy her voice.
Similarly, Judy Garland, dead at age 47, suffered anxiety—didn’t think her voice was that good either—and sought refuge in alcohol and drugs.
Some stars, like Betty Hutton, against all odds, survived. Hutton’s descent from the pinnacle of Annie Get Your Gun (1950) was as dramatic as Houston’s. Miraculously, she met this saintly priest, Fr. Peter Maguire, who helped her understand all her pain—and cherish just “being Betty” and discover, as she told Turner Classic Movie’s Robert Osbourne, “Christ is my heart.”
Perhaps Whitney, who also knew Christ was her heart, never found that someone who understood her pain.
But, now, I have to believe she is serving that role from heaven, helping those with intense pain.
This week, it was if she reached out and touched me when I turned on SiriusXM, and out came Greatest Love of All.
“No matter what they take away from me, they can’t take away my dignity!”
Just what the doctor ordered.
*******
Mary Claire Kendall is author of Oasis: Conversion Stories of Hollywood Legends, published in Madrid under the title También Dios pasa por Hollywood. She recently finished Oasis II, featuring six more legends of Hollywood and looks forward to its publication.