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Who’s to Blame?

For Keith Ledger’s suicide? Michelle Williams, that’s who. She’s his ex-fiance’, by whom he produced an unlucky child, already orphaned from the only parent who probably really loved her. Now that we’ve all wept for Heath, let’s dry our eyes and look around. Who’s there? Nobody! Ms. Williams, his costar on Brokeback Mountain, dumped him as soon as he began to develop the first signs of problems.

My wife, bless her heart, has stuck by me through thick and thin. Let me tell you, gentle readers, depression isn’t pretty and it isn’t easy to live with. It isn’t even easy to watch. I would never have survived without the support of my wife, who I know loves me profoundly. So I guess this Williams chick decided that she did not even care to watch this man in his decline.

The Defamer broke the headline, “Friends say they saw it coming.” Even though US magazine is touting the same headline, expanded into a paragraph as an exclusive from a close friend. Some friend. That’s like saying you did nothing as you watched your friend stand at the edge of the subway platform with tears running down his cheeks just as a train was pulling in from a tunnel at high speed.

Besides a tiny-two-year-old beautiful daughter, left behind is a family stricken with grief.

In The West Australian, Ledger’s father Kim wrote: “Heatho, Beef . . . my beautiful boy: so loving, so talented, so independent, so caring, so young . . . no more chess games mate . . . this is it, couldn’t beat you anyway!

“My body aches for the sound of your voice, our chats, our laughs and our life and times together . . . I will love you forever, Dad.”

Try to read THAT with a dry eye! This man’s agency, his so-called friends, anyone who’s been around this man for the last two years or so should be held accountable in varying degrees, based on how close they were to him physically. Who wins that headscratcher? That’s right, you, Ms. Williams. You’ve deprived your daughter of her father.

So the next time you see a young guy in Heath Ledger’s shoes, surrounded by fame and beauty, don’t be too jealous, my friend. Those beauties are probably just a bunch of gold diggers. If you have the love of one special somebody, then you are the luckiest person in the world!


About Russell Smith

I was born at the American Hospital in Neuilly-sur-Seine, France. I find inspiration in the lives of so many people from Joan of Arc to Oscar Wilde. While my primary avocation is photography, I also enjoy philosophy, theology and most of all, history. My beloved wife, Robin Anne Smith, who passed away in 2013 is also an inspiration to me. My beloved partner, Dana is also a great support and inspiration to me. I'd be remiss if I did not mention my cats: Natasha, Maxwell, Tigger and Nigel.

2 responses »

  1. Oh, I am so retarded! It’s just scary to read a story like that, know that could have been me.

  2. Hey Retard, it’s Heath not Keith!! You’re still the best.


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