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Thread: "Until We Meet Again : The Last Weeks Of Jimi Hendrix"

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    Re: "Until We Meet Again : The Last Weeks Of Jimi Hendrix"

    FROM THE BOOK - Jimi Hendrix: The Man, The Magic, The Truth by Sharon Lawrence 2005

    In 1996 Monika Dannernann telephoned me for the final time. I felt instantly furious when I picked up the telephone and heard her softly say, "It's Monika." How can anyone manage to put sadness behind when there's always some creep unexpectedly bringing it all back into focus? What could she possibly want now? Had she forgotten the legal warning she'd instructed her solicitors to issue? How could she possibly think I would consider her a friend? She started in, once more pushing her desire that I should "come and visit .... I really need to talk to you. Can you come next week?" I couldn't believe my ears. I'd had enough of her, and I let loose. "I don't want to ever see or speak to you again. You've told too many lies through too many years. How can you possibly believe I would want to be your friend?"

    She began to stammer at the vehemence of my tone. "Oh, is this a bad time to talk?"
    I felt somehow that things had gone terribly wrong for Monika and that she was in some kind of trouble. But I didn't care, and I didn't want details. "You helped to kill a friend of mine. You showed no respect to Jimi Hendrix. He lay there in layers of his own vomit for hours, and you let him die."

    I could hear myself yelling into the telephone, and I felt shocked by my own anger. "You could have called a doctor. An ambulance. The police. The hotel manager. But you didn't. The very next morning, you told me what happened. But you didn't tell me everything. When he was choking, gasping for breath, did you pour red wine down his throat?

    There was a long pause. I took a stab at something I'd discussed with Jack Meehan after his conversation with the coroner and had subsequently puzzled over for years. "I know you did," l said.
    "lt was all untidy. He was messy. I thought it would help," Monika haltingly explained. I could just imagine her running off to wash her hands because the dying man was "untidy." "You made it all worse."

    She let out a series of hysterical shrieks, but she did not deny my words. I kept at her. "You could have gotten help that would have saved him. But you made a choice, and you have been lying about all of it ever since." Monika was sobbing now, but she managed to interrupt her sobs to say, "Stop! You're going to give me a heart attack." "That's an impossibility!" I yelled. "You have no heart. No conscience. You barely knew Jimi Hendrix, and you let him die." "No!" "You and your sick charade," I said, quieting down. I had never spoken to another human being like that before. She was quiet, too. The sobs had vanished. "Don't you ever telephone me or contact me in any way ever again. You are a cruel and terrible person. And a goddamned liar!"

    Monika Dannemann moaned into my ear on the telephone; it was terrible to hear. Finally she said, "I am sorry. Believe me, I am sorry." I couldn't listen to another word. I hung up, and two days later I took the advice of friends and changed my telephone number.

    Through the years Kathy Etchingham, Jimi's first London girlfriend, had never bought into Monika's assorted concoctions of the "Jimi I knew" or her assorted tales of Jimi's death. In the nineties Etchingham conducted her own private investigation of the woman from Dusseldorf, Germany, and late in 1993 she asked the authorities to reopen the investigation of Jimi's death. Scotland Yard's inquiry proved inconclusive.

    Monika continued to make slanderous comments about others, including Noel Redding. Most unwisely, she made a series of false accusations to journalists about Kathy Etchingham, and Kathy took Monika to court in April 1996 over her allegations. The judge ruled in Kathy's favor, and Monika was also found guilty of contempt of court. The English press had covered the story, and Monika's house of cards had toppled down. She was distraught over this public humiliation.

    Several days after the judge's ruling, Monika attached a hose to the exhaust pipe of her shiny Mercedes. She sealed the car windows tight and sat down at the wheel and turned on the engine. Apparently the last thing she did as she began to lose consciousness was to switch off the engine. She was found dead in her fume-filled car on April S, 1996.

    It took several years for me to bring myself to visit a public library and spend fifteen minutes looking through Monika's 1995 book containing forty-five full-color paintings of Jimi or allegedly "inspired" by Jimi, plus mind-boggling text. Then there were the photographs of Monika grieving at his Seattle grave, and with Al, June, and Janie Hendrix, aka the "Clean Up Jimi's Image" brigade. Jimi's father even offered words of endorsement, including the "fiance" riff that would certainly have startled numerous young ladies who knew Jimi in the last year of his life. On an early page of the book, a message from Al Hendrix declares: "To whom it may concern ... I would like to state that my son Jimi Hendrix was engaged to Monika Dannemann and that they planned to get married. All those slanderous stories written about Monika regarding my son are false .... "Even though Al Hendrix never heard from his son again after Jimi's last performance in Seattle in late July 1970, he chose to agree to the above words written for him in Dannemann's book.
    Last edited by RobbieRadio; 10-23-19 at 02:18 PM.

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    Re: "Until We Meet Again : The Last Weeks Of Jimi Hendrix"

    Quote Originally Posted by RobbieRadio View Post
    FROM THE BOOK - Jimi Hendrix: The Man, The Magic, The . . .
    . . . self serving bullshit
    Frank Zappa: "Rock journalism is people who can't write interviewing people who can't talk for people who can't read."

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    Re: "Until We Meet Again : The Last Weeks Of Jimi Hendrix"

    Was Jimi Hendrix’s death a case of insurance fraud?

    http://www.insurancefraud.org/IFNS-d...7%3C/a%3E%3Cbr

    Of all the hospital personnel who dealt with Hendrix that night, Dr. Bannister is the only person who claims to have seen any red wine in or on the body. Ambulance attendants Jones and Suau didn’t see any red wine when they arrived at the flat, and the man who conducted the post mortem of the body, Dr. Seifert, didn’t notice any signs of alcohol.(8) Strangely, Dr. Bannister said that he remembered being perplexed by the length of the body, claiming that it was hanging over the table “by about 10 inches.” This is suspicious because Hendrix was only 5’11; he wasn’t short, but by no means was he a giant. It seems plausible that Dr. Bannister was confusing Hendrix with another patient. He didn’t know who Hendrix was at the time, so there’s no reason for Hendrix to have been more memorable to him than any of the other patients he treated at the time. That’s not the only alternative explanation though. Allegedly, Monika Dannemann (Hendrix’s girlfriend at the time of his death) claimed in an interview that the last thing she saw Hendrix drink was cola.(9) It’s possible that Dr. Bannister mistook the dark, cola-stained gastric contents for red wine

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    Re: "Until We Meet Again : The Last Weeks Of Jimi Hendrix"

    Quote Originally Posted by RobbieRadio View Post
    Was Jimi Hendrix’s death a case of insurance fraud?
    No
    Frank Zappa: "Rock journalism is people who can't write interviewing people who can't talk for people who can't read."

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