The fascination with the British Royal Family is never-ending. For all the buzz that surrounds Meghan Markle and Prince Harry, that’s nothing new. There was a lot of discourse around Prince William and Kate Middleton. Then, of course, there was Princess Diana, the mother of Harry and William. Next year will be 30 years since her passing. There’s going to be a new documentary called Diana Unheard coming out about her that features previously unreleased audio recordings.
But I want to use this opportunity to turn this into a recollection of the impact Diana had on the people I grew up with. Specifically, my mom and other adults. And I also want to mention why I don’t care about any of the drama surrounding her and why I really don’t like the concept of this Diana Unheard documentary at all.
A 12-Year-Old’s Perspective
In August of 1997, I would have been three months into being 12 years old. I watched a lot of television and news. I knew who Diana, Princess of Wales, was, and I couldn’t stand her. She was always a point of discussion in the news, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass about her or the royal family. I was well read enough to know that the English government was ruled by their prime minister and parliament. My father had used the term “figurehead” to describe the Queen and her family. I didn’t understand then what the fuss was about Diana or any of them. All I knew was that her divorce in 1996 was massive news. My mother was especially concerned with all of it.
I should probably note, I’m American. So it’s not as if any of us had any national pride at stake with Princess Di. Mom loved her sense of style, though. She seemed very attached to modelling her haircuts after some of Diana’s looks. I just thought she looked okay. I didn’t really see her as anything special. Looking back on her today, I see more of an aura of gentility around her. I get the allure of her as a princess and how that would be captivating.
The Night of the Crash
The night of August 30th was a Saturday. My mom and dad would go out together on some Saturday nights and play music gigs at local bars and restaurants. Well, Mom played; Dad was just the manager. That evening my younger brothers and I were at home. A sweet old lady named Jean was babysitting us. Jean lived down the road and was the mom of my dad’s closest friend. Because it was summer vacation from school and a Saturday, she would let us stay up as late as we wanted until our parents came home.
I don’t recall what I was watching when the news broadcast interrupted things. My research indicates that the car crash that ultimately claimed Diana’s life happened at around 12:20 AM in Paris, France. France is six hours ahead of my time zone, so it had to have been a little after 6:30 PM when the news was breaking. Princess Diana had been involved in a car crash in Paris. She and her romantic companion, Dodi Fayed, were together and, as we would come to find out, trying to get away from the paparazzi. This led to the driver going much faster than he should’ve, clipping a vehicle, losing control, and smashing into a support pillar of the Pont de l’Alma underpass.
Shocked Laughter
Updates kept coming in over the next couple of hours. Some were stating it was serious while others were more vague. Around midnight, the announcement came in that she had died. I remember my first reaction was laughter. I was so shocked I started laughing. Then I covered my mouth in response, as I couldn’t believe I was laughing. My babysitter Jean was in the kitchen and came into the living room. I told her what happened, but I don’t remember anything else. I’ll just never forget that my reaction was a spontaneous burst of laughter. I know it was nothing to be embarrassed about because that can be a perfectly normal reaction. It still haunts me.
At the time of her death, I didn’t understand the drama surrounding the Royal Family of England. I get it now. That is to say, I get why there is drama. I still find it absurd. I don’t care about the comings and goings of them. Never have and never will. Doesn’t bother me one bit who married who in more recent years. Nor do I care about Diana’s historic divorce and the now King Charles‘ relationship with the now Queen Camilla. People have messed up social lives all the time. Royalty is no different, and we shouldn’t pretend they are in that regard. The only “royal” thing that rankles me is how royally messed up it is that the press is obsessed with all of them and especially Diana.
Diana Unheard Seems Tasteless
That’s why the upcoming documentary, Diana Unheard, pisses me off so substantially. It’s based on “secretly taped conversations Diana had with her friend James Colthurst in 1991.” So, in other words, she’s talking to a friend while not knowing that she’s being recorded. And this documentary series is going to air parts of that while painting it as “her own story in her own voice at a pivotal point in her life.” Sounds pretty messed up to me. You can’t present “her own story in her own voice” when she’s dead from a conversation she had 6 years before she died. Especially from secretly taped chats. How do you know she wants those things told? You don’t, so it’s not her story.
Jesus Christ, this woman can’t get peace even in death. She was, in essence, killed by the press, and now they’re making even more projects about her. From conversations she had with a friend. That seems like a new low in making documentaries and human decency. For that reason, I’m not going to bother sharing when or where Diana Unheard is being released. You can always look it up if you want to, but I don’t want to give it the luxury of exposure. I want Diana’s legacy to be based on personal memories and not public exposure. If she were able to read what I had to say now, I would tell her my mom adored her. I would tell her that I hated seeing her on the news then, but I loved discovering what she meant to people around the world. And I would tell her I’m not going to watch a documentary that sees fit to air her private conversations without her consent.
Diana Unheard is premiering somewhere on some place at some point.
