My Mother Ruth

On October 10, 1982, just days before my 32nd birthday, I attended the wedding of Steve Ross, who owned Warner Communications and its subsidiary, Atlantic Records. The man I was dating at the time was a well-regarded investigative journalist who seemed to know everyone, from the neo-con policy-makers in the Reagan administration, to entertainers like Carly Simon, as well as every independent writer of note then residing in New York City and a large cast of movers and shakers in the city’s media and business elite. Ross, his friend, was marrying a twenty-seven-year old documentary filmmaker and Texan named Courtney Sale in the ballroom of the Plaza Hotel. (more…)