Dreams of A Life
For three years Joyce Carol Vincent lie dead in her apartment. She died at 38 and was found at 41. She wasn’t a loner, nor a hermit with no friends. She was a beautiful, ambitious climber. She wasn’t an alcoholic. She had family and people who could vouch that she was the least likely candidate for such a fate. The window in her apartment was open open for years, and the television—tuned to BBC1— was left on the same length. Still no one knew she died. No one checked on her. She’d shaken hands with Nelson Mandela, had dinner with Stevie Wonder…how does this happen?
I’m so interested in seeing this doc…hopefully it’ll hit the States soon. The story alone is enough to hit the nerves of the masses. We all tend to think these things happen to society’s castoffs and throwaways (people with social disorders, mental issues, drunks, the sick). This proves we’re all susceptible. A very sad, but important message.
