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“It would never be enough to say simply that I loved Janis. She meant much more to me than that. When I was born, Janis was six years old. She took me under her wing as soon as I was able to hobble after her. On the wall of the bedroom we shared, Mother hung pictures of two girls giggling and telling stories to each other. That is how I remember my early years, intertwined with my constant companion and interpreter of the world, my elder sister. She helped me with everything and took me everywhere. In turn, I idolized her. “ - From the book Love, Jams
“She believed that no matter who you are – race, dress, pimply face, whatever – everybody deserves equal respect and love…People make her out as a tragic figure because she died of drugs. They forget being around Janis was having a good time. She was a very upbeat, exciting person. She was always fun, a memory I have of her from the earliest days in the family.” |
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