Read a Longtime People Staffer's Emotional Final Fan Letter to Her 'North Star' Olivia Newton-John

Mar. 15, 2025

Olivia Newton-John.Photo: John Shearer/WireImage

DearOlivia: A Final Fan Letter

I grew up on the grounds of an orphanage that my dad ran in Albany, New York, and my next letter was a request for you to perform for the orphans (and me) in our large backyard with the appropriate space for a concert. I recall asking you about klieg light placement so that the orphans could see just how beautiful you were and I stated that while there was no bedroom for you to stay in at my family’s crowded house, my best friend, Lisa Mendel, got the go-ahead for you to stay with her family across the street. They had a bed opening. When I read my letter aloud to my father, he said it was “lovely.” My brother said, “What? You are so whacked, Sue! She’llnevercome!”

Olivia Newton-John at the 2008 Pride Parade in Los Angeles.Mark Davis/Getty

When an envelope arrived postmarked from California, I knew it was you. I tore open the envelope and saw a postcard with your photo and a list of upcoming concert dates with your autograph stamped on in a gold marker. I’ll never forget tracing the O in your name over and over until I rubbed out the O and moved onto N and then J.

Santa Mom and Santa Dad bought me your albums over the years and even a wooden guitar which I strummed your songs badly on, as I didn’t know how to play. As the years moved on, I remained loyal, Olivia. I wrote a letter to the editor atGlamourwhen a critic slammed your voice as being “screechy.” I was incensed and knew you were meant for greatness years before your starring role inGrease.

Sandy? There’s not enough space to properly explain how hypnotic and beguiling your role was to young me.

As the years moved on, I applied to Pepperdine Law School so that I could be your neighbor, didn’t get in, and eventually started my career as a fact-checker at PEOPLE magazine around the 1990s. When I became a correspondent, I always knew we would meet.

My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer at 62 and died not even two years later from this wretched disease. It was at her coffin that I told my mother I was gay because even in 1997, I was scared to admit my truth. I always knew you were supportive of LGBTQ people long before that was even considered acceptable. I admired your throwing that caution to the far wind.

Years after 9/11, when I was working atVanity Fair,I received an email invitation to a holiday fair where you would be promoting a breast cancer self-detection kit to be used in the shower. While I never interviewed you, we talked about breast cancer and I told you about my mom. Of course, you hugged me, because that was you: kind, lovely and warm — everything you want in your heroes, but rarely see when you meet them. You couldn’t state it enough that early detection was key in the fight that I might face one day.

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When the news broke on Monday thatyou had died at 73, like my mom at 64, I felt that was too young. I wanted to cry when I heard it, but instead I saw that I was one of two fact-checkers assigned to check the cover story about your life, which PEOPLEcrashed together in the course of hours, every member of the team, for stories that are their own, your biggest fans. If ever the facts needed to be correct, I was ready because this story felt like a punch in the stomach and it was personal.

Goodnight North Star, say hi to my mom.

source: people.com