My Journey with Farrah - Alana Stewart [1]
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A portion of the proceeds from this book will be donated to The Farrah Fawcett Foundation to support cancer research.
If you wish to make a donation to The Farrah Fawcett Foundation, you may do so at the following address:
P.O. Box 6478
Beverly Hills, CA 90212
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The bond between women friends is all-powerful and not to be taken lightly. But the bond between Alana and Farrah is like nothing I’ve ever seen between two women. They grew together like vines.
—RYAN O’NEAL
I was always the small brunette in the middle—book-ended by two very headstrong Texas beauties, equally loyal and dependable—the stuff that bonds us through good and bad times. It would take these qualities to sustain Farrah and Alana on their journey through what I call the cancer abyss. Farrah’s courage was matched only by Alana’s commitment to stay at Farrah’s side, to comfort and encourage her during her struggle to beat this damn disease. We, Farrah’s friends, cannot thank Alana enough for all her sacrifice—time away from her home, her children, and her doggies. My Journey with Farrah fills and enriches our spirits as Farrah soars with the angels.
—TINA SINATRA
INTRODUCTION
MEN COME AND GO—GOD KNOWS THEY CERTAINLY have in my life—but girlfriends are forever. I have a lot of girlfriends, but only a few very, very close ones. And in the middle of that select circle, I considered Farrah Fawcett to be my soul-sister. We would have done anything for each other. But I never anticipated that our lives would become intertwined in the way that they did. I never imagined I would walk this path with her.
The first time I laid eyes on Farrah was in the 1970s. We hadn’t formally met yet, but I spotted her on a commercial audition and thought she was absolutely beautiful (she later told me she thought the same about me). We both arrived in L.A. around the same time. She came straight from Corpus Christi, Texas, and I had been modeling in New York and Paris. We kept bumping into each other at these casting calls, and at first our friendship was casual: a smile, a nod, a quick “How’s it going?”
A few years later, we were no longer just girls hustling for work in Hollywood. By then I was separated from my first husband, George Hamilton, and had been acting in a few TV series, while Farrah was a huge star, an icon, thanks to Charlie’s Angels. I went to Palm Springs to play in a celebrity tennis tournament with my friend Valerie Perrine, and when we arrived, there were young kids lined up outside the tennis club, screaming Farrah’s name. Truth be told, Valerie and I had no business being there. We couldn’t even play tennis! We’d bought the shortest tennis shorts we could find, hoping they would distract people from how bad we were. Each of us had a pro partner, and I pity the poor guy who got me. When a ball came sailing at me, I dove for the ground, narrowly missing getting smacked in the head. Farrah, on the other hand, was a powerful and graceful tennis player, a natural athlete, and, of course, she won the tournament while barely breaking a sweat. How easy it would have been to hate someone so seemingly perfect, but all you could do was love her. She was so warm, so approachable, so down-to-earth. People were just naturally drawn to her like moths to a bright flame.
We met again and really bonded in 1979, when I was pregnant with my daughter, Kimberly, and married to my second husband, Rod Stewart. Rod and I were at Countess Marina Cicogna’s house for a dinner, and she sat Farrah, Ryan, Rod, and me together. Farrah