I first met Hester in the summer of 1979 in Ho Chi Minh park, long before heroin. Okay, maybe in the grand scheme of things it wasn't that long before heroin. She was best friends with Rebawho and had a crush on my best friend, Coleman, who is still my best friend today, but truth be told I had a crush on her! Hester's passion was contagious-- such an Aries! Energetic to almost hyper, said whatever was on her mind and was obsessed with many guys who were completely wrong for her (my judgement-- sorry if I offended). One of my fondest memories of her is that she rattled off the entire set list of the Rolling Stones' "Let It Bleed" concert at Candlestick.

The last time I saw Hester I was living in Santa Cruz. This was 1991 or 1992-- I think '92. I was walking down the street downtown and lo and behold, there she is. She came down to Santa Cruz to go into rehab at a famous facility. She knew a few people I know there too. We had brunch at Zachary's once, and then she disappeared.

But I always thought I'd see her again. It wasn't until last November when I was googling my old friends that I found Rebawho's web site. I couldn't believe it, but I could. I've heard she died of heroin and I've heard she died of AIDS. Does anyone know the circumstances?

Thanks for starting this thread Danger Angel. Peace!

i am going to assume that everyone is talking about the same hester that i knew, although i am not sure. [wait, duh - went and looked at reba's page. yep, that's her! unforgettable.] hester signed my yearbook - i'll go downstairs and find it and type in what she said, at some point this weekend. when i was a geeky incoming freshman at berkeley high, she spotted me out as somebody who didn't fit in, i guess, and had something wonderful and magical and kind to say to me every single day, even though every time she did i was like "thank you, uh.....do i know you??" she was so open and human while everybody else was so uptight and guarded, including me. i mean, it's like reba says - i swear i didn't know hester from eve, and yet every day she greeted me like a long lost friend. i think she unutterably changed the way i thought and felt about people. i think it was partially her influence that made me come out of my shell just enough to go around and start asking musicians around school if they wanted to be in my band.

it makes me sad that such a funny, fun-loving, loving soul could have some irrevocable wound inside steadily draining her life away, until she was just not able to give any more to the world and had to leave it. i hope desperately that she allowed some small happiness into her heart, she deserved it greatly. and to all her friends who knew her well - certainly you are blessed. you must all be very special people, indeed.

I went to junior high at the Berkeley Alternative School with Hester. She had a profound influence on me. She was so positive and so subversive at the same time, her infectious laugh and sense of humor. Although we only saw each other rarely, we never stopped being friends. The last time I saw her was on BART going from 16th and Mission (hmmmm?) and heading back to the East Bay. We talked about addiction and children and hope. As I understand it, she died of a lung infection (caused by years of drug abuse) not that long after our conversation.
I miss her and think of her often.

you know, talking about hester reminds me of this other young free spirited type i knew at berkeley high - but i seem to have destroyed the brain cells that retained the memory of her name. she was tall, thin, with short blond hair in a sort of twiggy/edie sedgewick/punk crewcut, and i think she had tattoos; she wore flowy indian skirts and blouses, was usually barefoot and danced everywhere rather than merely walking. she read people their tarot almost every day on the steps, and she taught me the term 'indica'. in short, as typical red-blooded berkeley kid. why can't i remember her name??

It would have been Hester's birthday today. 3/31/66. 41

Another memory:
Rev. Moon (Moonies) owned a house at the very top of the hill in our neighborhood. It was said that it was his daughter's home. Anyway, every so often they would truck in a group of Moonies… who would wander around the neighborhood. One climbed the tree in front of my house. Once, Hester and I found one sitting on Jeff and Sheila Gough's stairs. Hester said (with a voice dripping in sarcasm) "What do you think you are doing?" The Moonie smiled her vanilla smile at us, her half lidded eyes dull and her face slightly slack… she replied "Meditating within my self"… then her eye lids closed… we had been dismissed. There were occasional protests, by families of current members and some ex-members. There were loud discussions about brain washing and kidnappings. There would be news cameras and vans… for a day… then they would all go away.

Once, we were in the back yard of Juliana Lefeavor (Spelling on the name??). Her back yard fence was shared by the Moonie compound. We came across a guy, on the other side of the fence… I think he was watering or raking. The conversation started with "Moonies seem so weird". "Why do you walk around looking spaced out" "Are you brain washed". We were being nice with our tone of voice. I remember feeling some excitement that I was able to ask one of these people these questions… he seemed 'not-so-spaced-out' as the ones we met 'meditating within themselves'. He really never answered questions, but seemed to be parroting phrases… I don't know how a 12 year old knew he was parroting… His voice grew louder as we insisted he was not answering us, and he was wasting our time… He told us we were not enlightened. That we were not living right. He said we had "dirty blood" (Or something like that). I remember getting the feeling he had judged us unworthy. Then he sort of lost his cool a little and told us we were Bigots.
I remember Hester scoffed so load she snorted out of her nose… Hah… She said to him… you don't even know what that word means. He then tried to explain the definition; I think he said we had closed hearts. She corrected him…
I just looked it up: A bigot is a prejudiced person who is intolerant of opinions, lifestyles, or identities differing from his own.

I didn't know her, may well have seen her though. And I'm sorry to intrude on this sort of requiem. I do think I appreciate what a glorious spirit she seems to be. I have my own, touched- and-live-forever-in-my-soul people that are a most treasured breed, who lived large, non-pariel personalities that were lost, that burned so gloriously bright... And maybe. this is what I hear you all saying, and these friends connected with something in myself, that aspects something of my true nature. Some who did survive may even now seem to have lost something... Maybe I'm not saying it right, as I don't really know what Hester meant to you each, personally... I do want to say, I saw the shadowy depths my own friends swam in, the extremes of the street... Some kind of grace kept me from the sunken world these people knew, and in a way showed us. I don't condemn them, and some tried to walk away, later to succumb to the inflicted damage done by themselves, after reckoning how deep that underworld went, and their real pains, and their remarkable way of saying blowing people away with some kind of deep and truthful beauty. I wish I had something brilliant or redeeming or even some spiritual message to say (and I spent years as counselor/drug counselor), it would miss the mark, except acknowlege the profound loss to the world of such bright-flaring comets... For some of us, these... our true kindred souls. It justs terrifically hurts sometimes, this loss of people closer to you than your family of origin, even seem our true family, yet also tears us open to how life has these bearers from some motherlode of genuine beauty...
And we bear that flame ourselves...

Fortune Alway,
Jerome

Yes, luckily the Hester that Rebawho (Thank you for the beautiful website! It's great finding you again too!) and I knew and loved was Pre-Terry. After she met him she got on heroin and was never the same. She was so smart. I really think she was a prodigy in a lot of ways. She was definitely one of the most clever and funny people I have ever known. She was one of those people that everyone just wanted to be around because she knew everyone, and was so entertaining, you knew something magic was going to happen in her presence. She was the only person who I knew who was accepted and respected by all the groups in Berkeley. I remember going to a few Punk shows with her feeling all scared to death cuz that wasn't my crowd, and she was so at ease with her long hair in two braids, her hippy skirt and her Chinese slipper shoes. No one bugged her about her appearance. The toughest punks loved and respected Hester. She could handle herself in any situation. She could talk herself into or out of any situation. I met so many people through her and went so many places with her; Dead shows, Receiving Studios, The Sauce Factory, Punk Shows, The Keystone, The Kabuki, other different clubs, concerts, parties, cafes, shopping in thrift stores, above all Telegraph Ave. and Durant of course, listening to her raspy voice, and her deep laugh... Dressing up in all her cool crazy clothes, taking HOURS to get ready to go out.

I really admired her and loved her. I am so sad she is gone. But the drugs took her away long before she died.

I talked to her brother when I heard that she had died. I heard that she had overdosed. I don't know about all these other stories. He told me that her parents are raising her daughter.