When Véronique Sanson’s Hollywood album was finally released, I put aside the original cover, made a mock up of the sleeve that I had imagined (largely influenced, it must be said, by the sublime cover of the no less sublime Elton John’s Madman Across The Water album ...), and I slipped the Hollywood vinyl into it. It has remained there ever since that day.

My story with Véronique Sanson, a few decades and several albums later, ended with a nice ray of light.
In 2015, for my birthday, my friends Isabelle and François (who knew about my story and by the most coincidental of chances knew the musician personally) brought to her a fresh copy of her newly released book, Les Années Américaines (The American Years), and told her about my adventure with her Mom. Thus, on the D day, Isabelle and François gave me this copy of Véronique Sanson’s book, autographed by her with personal and very touching words. This moved me greatly and made me extremely happy.

Today, what is left of that period of my life are a few blue gouaches, a copy of the Hollywood album which I am absolutely sure of being the only one on planet Earth to possess, the music of Véronique Sanson, and an autographed book.

And the fond memory of a lady with whom I occasionally had tea during a few 1976 Parisian afternoons.
A lady who proved to be a grande dame, as amusing as she was elegant, as human as she was kind, as generous as she was caring.