When Death Comes in Threes and it Just Hurts So Much
You know how when a famous person dies, there is always someone who will say in an ominous tone, “It comes in threes,” meaning that there are more to come? It’s just a superstition, but the idea of death coming in threes has had me thinking about three recent passings, two women and one who recently started identifying as non-binary who have died at relatively young ages, three unique and uniquely courageous people who lived lives on their own terms and departed too soon but left lasting legacies. I can’t think of many corollaries that tie them together and I am not tempted to force it, except to say all three lived out loud — brave, seemingly undaunted, not looking for permission or an invitation to be heard and seen.
The hits keep on coming in this Trump 2.0 era, and losing three people in short order who used their voices and lives to make the world a better place are indeed punches that land, especially when the ones who harm and are seemingly impervious to real consequences always seem to live to ripe old ages, as if they are fueled by spite and cruelty alone. Losing these three singular individuals in recent weeks feels like fresh burdens have been loaded on those of us who are already buckling under the weight of living in this era and struggling to find reasons for hope. It is just so damn heavy sometimes.
I know that when something is weighing on me, though, when something just won’t quit pressing on my heart and buzzing around in my head, I have to write about it. Until I do, I am spinning my wheels, bothered, sad, distracted. With that in mind, at 2:00 AM, my bed finally catching a break of my agitated tossings and turnings, I present to you Virginia Giuffre, Jill Sobule and Sarah Kramer, three very different souls who left too soon but will not be forgotten.
Our stories live as long as people are willing to continue telling them. These profiles are imperfect, incomplete, quick snapshots but I am offering them so their stories and examples can be boosted and offer an diametrical opposition to the slavering hagiographies of the ruling despots.
To read about Virginia Giuffre’s childhood is to have your heart ripped out. Escaping from a family friend who was sexually assaulting her, Virginia ran away as a child and lived in foster homes from a young age; by the age of 14, she was living on the streets, hungry, in danger and under control of a trafficker. While still a teen, Virginia reunited with her father in Florida and he got her a job as a spa attendant at Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago resort, where he also worked. She was quickly spotted by Ghislaine Maxwell, associate of notorious financier and trafficker Jeffrey Epstein, and offered a job as a traveling massage therapist, a subject she was interested in and would pay her far more than she could earn at the club, plus pay for massage therapy training and certification. She was, of course, groomed by Maxwell and Epstein, trafficked and sexually abused as a minor. Virginia Giuffre was one of the first prominent voices to speak up against Maxwell and Epstein, providing critical information to law enforcement that lead to their arrests, and she successfully sued and reached settlements with them, as well as accused trafficking client Prince Andrew, which helped her to fund her anti-trafficking organization, Speak Out, Act, Reclaim (SOAR), creating a support and education network for other survivors. Her estranged husband, a martial arts instructor with whom she had three children, has been accused by Virginia’s brother and sister-in-law of severe physical abuse, resulting in a cracked sternum and perforated eye. The Giuffres were in the middle of an acrimonious divorce with a child custody battle. On March 30, Virginia disclosed that she was in a serious car accident near her home in Australia, which required hospitalization for organ failure. She died at her home; it is still being investigated but is being called a suicide.
Virginia Giuffre was 41.
Quick to point out in her characteristically self-deprecating way, Jill Sobule, who became famous for her trail-blazing song, “I Kissed a Girl,” (accept no imitators) was not, in fact, a one-hit wonder, but a rare TWO-hit wonder, with an assist from her song from the iconic film Clueless, “Supermodel.” In her own idiosyncratic way after her 1990s fame, Jill Sobule was living her best genre-defying life: Collaborating with the likes of Warren Zevon, performing cross-country, acting, composing and living out loud as a joyful, unapologetic and prolific queer Jewish woman who loved to laugh, poke fun and create. She wrote and performed lovingly relatable songs for the misfits and weirdos, most recently using her platform and fearless, creative voice against the Trump regime and anti-Semitism. My social media feed is full of artists — Jane Weidlin, Amanda Palmer, Margaret Cho, Dar Williams, to name a few — offering heartfelt, heartbroken tributes to their beloved friend, who died in a house fire on May 1.
Jill Sobule was 66.
I wrote quite a bit about Sarah Kramer in early April, when they were diagnosed with an aggressive and incurable form of brain cancer but suffice it to say Sarah was an OG vegan, and one whose indefatigable voice, unwavering optimism, generous talents and relentless style helped to elevate veganism from its dusty natural foods store associations to a new level of inclusivity and modernity. As co-author of the groundbreaking books like How it All Vegan and The Garden of Vegan, Sarah’s creative offerings allowed the public a foot in the door and gain access to plant-based, cruelty-free living without judgment or sacrifices. Sarah’s recipes were approachable, easy and thrifty, written with intimacy and humor, and more focused on making simple and familiar staple ingredients taste delicious than anything expensive and complicated. They infused their lively punk, DIY spirit and love of zine culture to their creative works and helped to pave a path for the next generation and other burgeoning herbivores into the kitchen and self-empowerment. Sarah continued building a better world all these years, writing more books, taking us through her experience with breast cancer, and giving us a lens into lovingly, joyfully navigating life as their long-time business and life partner’s transitioned from Gerry Kramer to Geri Kramer. In all, Sarah was a beautiful example of living life by their own rules and receiving life with intoxicating enthusiasm.
Sarah died on May 3 at age 56.
All three lived vastly different lives and left us under vastly different circumstances, but Virginia, Jill and Sarah each offered a uniquely specific example of living an authentic and one-of-a-kind life out loud. As advocates for themselves and others, they generously used their voices and platforms to help build a better world, using their experiences and their creativity for the common good. Losing them is a big loss everywhere but their words, innovation and courage lives on, touching lives in much more meaningful ways than these flailing, wailing ghouls, despots and trolls ever could. I have long had a hunch that is at least part of why they hate people like Virginia, Jill and Sarah, people like us, so much: Our courage of convictions, originality and willingness to be seen puts a spotlight on their own core emptiness and cowardice.
It’s a cliché but it’s true: Virginia, Jill and Sarah will live on and on. Let’s make sure their legacies of courage, generosity and uniqueness continue by telling their stories.
Marla Rose is cofounding partner of VeganStreet.com.
