RIP Naomi Judd

Note bene: I never know where my next writing idea will come from, where it will go, or what spawns an idea, usually it’s because of a Facebook post that serves as a trigger, I write a comment which leads to another comment, and so on. I never expected to be floored by the death of Naomi Judd, someone I didn’t even know. But there you have it. It seems Facebook style Wakes are becoming a thing. This is a developing piece based on a lot of hear-say (stet) as I only knew her on on the periphery. Call it 1° of separation if you must. So bear with me as I uncover a West Marin story.

A new Facebook friend, activist Sandra Birnhak, who grew up with Diane/Naomi in Kentucky, said she went by the name Naomi back in the late 1950s, early 1960s, so maybe she changed her name back to her given name, Diane when she was in LA, with her then husband, Michael Ciminella, before moving to Lagunitas. She was only 17 or 18  when she had her first daughter, Christine, in 1964. 

Sounds like Hollywood wasn’t kind to her—in her autobiography, River of Time, she mentions about being molested by an uncle, she abandoned by her husband, then, at 22, she was raped by an ex-con heroin addict. I don’t know how she wound up in the San Geronimo Valley, but it was a haven of single mothers. Since I only knew of her peripherally, I’m still piecing together the stories… 

Backstory: The Judds once lived in Speck McAuliff’s apartments above the post office in Lagunitas (where I once lived as a young child before my parents split up). Then they moved up the road to north a cottage on Tamal Road next to the House of Richard (a hippie store), and they also lived on Resaca Avenue as well.  

Longtime San Geronimo Valley resident, and classmate, John Watts said that Naomi and her family were his neighbors on Resaca Avenue in Forest Knolls. He said, “I don't remember what year—72/74 I think, before moving to Nashville. I remember wishing them the best of luck when they moved. We had no idea that the Judds, as they were later to be known, would become so famous.” He added, “The daughter was really young, and they weren't called the Judds then, even though it was a family name somewhere in her family. I remember she was working very hard trying to get into the music business, and I remember her saying, ‘we have to move to Nashville that's where it happing.’”

Folks said Naomi was fond of thrift stores (as we all were—especially The Bargain Box in San Rafael) and made everything very shabby chic. She had style.

“When we moved to Nashville in the late 70s, still struggling to make ends meet and dressing Wy and Ashley in thrift store dresses, I could've never imagined the success we achieved as The Judds. I am beyond thrilled and humbled for this incredible recognition. There's no greater pinnacle in Country Music than the Country Music Hall of Fame! “ —Grammy winner, Naomi Judd, Aug 16, 2021

Another Forest Knolls resident, Kira Thelin, said that Naomi’s daughter, Christine went to Lagunitas Elementary School for 7th and 8th grade. At the 8th grade graduation ceremony in 1977, Christine sang Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell and blew everyone’s minds. She would carry her guitar on the school bus. She was quiet and nice.”

Christine also won the San Geronimo Valley talent show. The talent show may have been a chance for the opportunity to sing at the graduation ceremony. Miss Kolanoski, our music teacher, was an extraordinary tour de force, and I could well imagine her chairing a talent show. We sang Man of La Mancha and The Impossible Dream. We knew about jousting at windmills. 

Facebook poster, Gloria Wood said, “My nieces and nephews went to school with Wynonna (before she took on that name) at Lagunitas school in the San Geronimo Valley in Marin. That's when Naomi was at College of Marin. Her openness and kindness of spirit will certainly be her lasting legacy.” Gloria added, “Christine attended Lagunitas from 76-78 - and the two of them (Gloria’s niece—name forthcoming) tied for first place in the singing contest, and sang for their graduation ceremony. She also rode with Naomi, "Christine," and Ashley in their car to an event in Sacramento, I believe. My niece said she'd be happy to speak with you. She apparently sang a lot with the pre-Wynonna girl.”

Marin musician Tony Johnson, who is a drummer, said that Naomi’s first open mike gig was at the Rancho Nicasio (where I was once a salad girl) where she, then, known as Diana (her first name, she was aka Naomi) Ciminella, was a waitress, a single mom, with her young daughter, Christina, ca. the early 1970s. 

I am still trying to piece together this part of the timeline. Naomi moved from Kentucky to Hollywood following her husband, but left Michael Ciminella’s name behind, and moved to Northern California (why West Marin? Why the San Geronimo Valley?) after her second daughter, Ashley was born in 1968. She moved to Tennessee and later married Larry Strickland, Elvis’s back up singer, in 1979.

What we do know is that the Judds chased a dream, formed a band, well, a duo, and changed their names back to Naomi’s maiden name, Judd, moved to Nashville, and the rest is history. With twenty top ten hits under their belts, 14 making it to number one, the world was their oyster. Wiki is compiling a timeline as we speak. In 1986, they won the CMA vocal group of the year award. After they became famous, they came back to Marin, visiting my old high school, pure chaos erupted. And everyone said they were always so kind and down to earth.

“Naomi put herself through nursing school to support her young daughters, then took a courageous chance by moving to Nashville to pursue their fantastic dream of careers in country music. Her leap of faith paid off, and Naomi and her daughter Wynonna became The Judds, soon ranking with country music's biggest stars, selling more than 20 million records and winning six Grammys….The Judds have scored fifteen #1 hits and received more than sixty industry awards, including six Grammy Awards and seven consecutive CMA Vocal Group of the Year trophies.” —Amazon

Musician Danny Carnahan (Caswell Carnahan, Waking the Dead) said: “A sad farewell to Naomi Judd, who deserved more happiness than she evidently got. In the early '70s she worked briefly with my friend and book collaborator Kristin Helberg waitressing at a San Rafael restaurant called Frogmorton's Folly. Served me at least one burger and was always smiling. Kristin and I dressed up as 6-foot frogs for the restaurant opening, but that's another story and as there are no photos, only the stuff of legend.”

 Naomi Judd at Marin General, she got Hep C when she was a nurse.

Sharon A. Fox (whom I don’t know) shared this rather remarkable story on in a Lost Marin group on Facebook, “Naomi approached me years ago while I was eating at a Mill Valley restaurant and mentoring a young artist regarding her jewelry designs. I had no idea who she was. I had heard of the Judds but could not tell you what their music sounded like or what they looked like. Naomi was curious why we were so animated and excited. She had left her little dog and husband at a nearby table and gracefully interrupted us. She said that her spiritual guidance led her to approach us because of the radiance and light coming from us. She asked what we were discussing. I explained to her that we both were taking classes at College of Marin in jewelry-making—and that I was trying to help my classmate get her jewelry to some Hollywood stylists that I knew. Naomi clutched her hands to her heart and said she loved College of Marin and that it saved her life with their nursing program. She went on to share her story of being on welfare while she took classes at College of Marin. I had no idea who she was and we proceeded to participate in an amazing hour long discussion about, inspiration, art and God. It was when I asked her if she funneled her beautiful light into something creative she said music. I asked, "Anything I might have heard before?" she said she was half of a group called, "The Judds". I knew my sister really adored "The Judds" because she talked about going to one of their concerts with such enthusiasm. She shared that College Marin and Mount Tamalpais had such a special place in her heart. She was so kind and open and vulnerable...almost like a child. I went on to learn that Wynonna's first guitar was purchased at the "Amazing Grace" music store across the street from the United Market in San Anselmo. Naomi was an open book and an open heart who seemed to enjoy sharing wonderful memories of her time in Marin She was more than just her music. She was a very special spiritual child of the Universe who delighted in inspiring others. Rest In Peace Dear Naomi and have fun singing with the angels.”

My mother’s old actor friend Vee Rae-Kane from the Sausalito Gate Playhouse Theatre days, who once lived in Lagunitas, said “ I knew her briefly years ago in Hollywood. We were neighbors circa 1970. My mom walked Wynonna (Christine) and my son to West Hollywood Elementary School. My son and Christine were good friends. Diana and Michael Ciminella separated when Ashley was a toddler. She was a single mom juggling jobs— people loved her.  Naomi (who I think was originally called "Diana"?) was very sweet and also beautiful. She was living on Larrabee St. in West Hollywood, and was accepted into a nursing program (College of Marin?) I had no idea she could sing!!! Ditto Wynonna!!! There was never any indication of a musical ability when I knew them. At one point she moved back to her roots, Kentucky, Tennessee.  Terribly sad ending—just terribly sad!!”

Naomi’s story reminds me of my own mother, brilliant and multi-talented artist, actor, costume designer, and writer, and the mental illness, a severe price paid for all that genius and creativity, the dark side of depression and suicide. It is also possible that my mother knew Naomi as they were both living in Forest Knolls at the same time. It still is a very small place.

Naomi Judd, who survived abusive relationships, and Hepatitis C, where in 1990, she was given a death sentence, three years to live, but miraculously beat the disease, talks about depression, “I’ve learned through my dark days in my journey that depression is a disease of the brain, just like heart disease is a disease of the heart or hepatitis is a disease of the liver.”

Today few folks realize how poverty was pretty tough for many of us who grew up in West Marin. This was all before the newcomers moved in and bought up all the land and changed the face of Marin—including all those rock and roll musicians….thus really forcing us out as we had no place left to go. How I eventually wound up in Cotati where I was going to Sonoma State, then Forestville… 

My leaving the San Geronimo Valley was somewhat of an attempt at self-help. I had severed many ties during the 1970s from the Valley, to escape that milieu, I was afraid of becoming a drug addict—as so many friends had died of overdoses, committed suicide, or were murdered, or got knocked up, victims of poverty and the past. It didn’t help that my own mother was as batshit crazy as my chain-smoking Christian Libertarian aunt who moved in with us and foisted me out the door ca. 1976-77. 

Is this a photo from Forest Knolls?

My mother looked into the abyss more than once, when she walked across the Golden Gate Bridge, someone stopped her from climbing the rail. Lithium helped assuage the darkness somewhat (Naomi too used a lithium cocktail). Anything was better than the psychotropics, Stelazine and Thorazine which turned people into zombies. Forget about creativity. In those days, doctors treated manic-depressive people as if they had schizophrenia. My mother was also subjected to electroshock therapy, aka brain fry a la Ken Kesey’s Cuckoo‘s Nest. Miraculously, she survived, and said it helped her to forget, but left her in a fugue state that took a long time to overcome.

My mother, who knew Kesey, taught me that when someone says the word suicide, no matter what the circumstances, you have to take it as verbatim, and take the necessary steps to intervention. I have obeyed that rule more than once with marginalized friends, and a long-suffering ex-partner who suffers from chronic depression and panic attacks, who routinely threatened suicide as a way out. They never get better. There is no better. there are only good days and bad days. I lasted 21 years as a care provider before he severed all ties. What I hadn’t counted on was that it took a huge toll on me too.

My mother was grateful for the interference of that stranger who convinced her not to jump. She did not die by her own hand, but of a heart attack from cancer therapy, but there were other suicide attempts along the way. It was a nightmare I lived through since my teenage years, I became numb to it all. Call it shellshock. I can’t help but wonder if someone had stopped Naomi, would she have been grateful?

Naomi wrote, “One of the ways I feel a little better each day is by writing a letter of graitude to someone and make sure I send it.” Maybe this blogpost is a letter of gratitude, unsent, to someone I could’ve known, perhaps should’ve known, but didn’t. And to those we’ve somehow failed, my mother, Neil. Naomi’s most famous ballad was, Love Can Build a Bridge, but sometimes depression is a bridge too far. 

💐 Naomi Judd,  Kentucky-born singer of the Grammy-winning duo "The Judds" and mother of Wynonna and Ashley Judd, has died.  She was 76. The daughters announced her death on Saturday in a statement provided to The Associated Press.

“Today we sisters experienced a tragedy. We lost our beautiful mother to the disease of mental illness," the statement said. "We are shattered. We are navigating profound grief and know that as we loved her,  she was loved by her public. We are in unknown territory." The Judds were to be inducted  into the Country Music Hall of Fame on Sunday.” The latest report is that Naomi will be inducted posthumously.

Grandpa  Love Can Build a Bridge  

The Judds story, FOX's new anthology series "Icon". See also, “Ruby.”

River of Time: My Descent into Depression and How I Emerged with Hope 2016 "In our family, my mother has a well-earned reputation for being thoughtful and caring. Even as a small girl, I'm told, she remembered every relative's birthday when most kids know (and are concerned with!) only their own. This book is another iteration of her longing for connection and belonging. Our greatest need is to be known in our experience, to be witnessed and accepted as we are in this moment. In RIVER OF TIME she shares her journey through a harrowing tempest of treatment-resistant depression. Perhaps the details differ, but you may recognize yourself, or someone you love, in her battle. Depression is an epidemic in our country, a profound financial and emotional public health burden. The toll on us, the loved ones, must be addressed, too. As I watched Mom and Pop wade through the sucking mire of depression, I was deeply thankful that there was also help for us family members. May this book serve you in the way my brave mother hopes it may."―Ashley Judd, humanitarian, writer, and actor

Naomi Judd dead at 76

In Lost Marin, Tony Johnson wrote: “Rancho Nicasio is a bar/restaurant/music venue in a tiny country town in a hidden Marin County valley. For decades it had been a sleepy family place where an accordion trio played on the weekends. Then in the seventies, some high rollers from Texas bought it along with some surrounding real estate, and in order to nudge the atmosphere more upscale and thus increase the value of their investment, they hired big name acts from LA to perform. The Moonlighters, a band led by Bill Kirchen for which I was the drummer, also played regularly there.

Diana was a pretty waitress with a southern accent who worked there. She was a bit aloof, but one night she approached us and mentioned she had a fourteen-year-old daughter named Christina, and together they did a little singing act. Could they possibly sit in for a number or two?

Well, sure. So they showed up on our next night in some kitschy cowgirl outfits and when they took the stage, did a couple of country classics like “Jambalaya” or “Hey, Good Lookin’.” They sounded fine, nothing special, we thought, but not terrible. Give them a break, it was their first time in front of a live audience. After the set she thanked us and said she had plans to take her daughter to Nashville and make it big. We nodded indulgently and smiled and wished her best of luck.

A few years later I was down in San Jose playing at a country bar with a very good house band. I’d gotten a call to do two or three nights as their drummer was ill. One of the cover tunes they played was new to me but right away I knew it was a big song, a great one. It was called “Mama He’s Crazy.” A little asking around revealed that the song was written by Kenny O’Dell, who ten years earlier had penned “Behind Closed Doors” for Charlie Rich. Both songs established the artists who sang them as major stars, but you’ve probably never heard of him. “Mama He’s Crazy,” I discovered, was recorded by a new sensation, a mother and daughter duo called the Judds. 

The waitress at that bar in Nicasio later changed her name to Naomi, and her daughter’s became Wynonna.

Rachele Diana Antenucci wrote: “They lived in an apartment above “That Place” beauty salon and the post office in Lagunitas. After that they rented another space in Forest Knolls next to the House of Richard‘s. At which time her name was Diana Ciminella. She furnished it with stuff that she purchased from thrift stores, garage sales and had her own unique shabby chic style.