JERSEY BOY

Bruce Springsteen fan mail floods our mailbox; an actress reminisces about costumer William Ivey Long; a Manson girl begs to disagree

LETTERS

My October issue arrived, fittingly, on September 14, just hours before my husband and I would be going, yet again, to see the Boss— this time at Gillette Stadium for the last show of the River Tour. Thanks to David Lamp's well-written article "The Book of Bruce," I would have a little different perspective this time.

I have been listening to Bruce since 1978, when my college-freshman roommate from Summit, New Jersey, opened my eyes (and my ears) to the wonders of E Street.

Years later, my two children, now 25 and 23, would see the "heart-stopping" E Street Band multiple times—the kids' faces on the big screens at Fenway the ultimate highlight.

Yet now, tonight, after reading the article, I would listen to Springsteen's musical poetry with a better understanding that "a good song gathers the years in," and that, despite the superstardom of this man, he has had many of the same issues in his life that, I venture, so many of us have had. I am glad he got that closure he spoke of. Rock on, Bruce. Thank you for a lifetime of great music woven into the tapestry of my life, gathering all the years in.

CHERYL GRAHAMCranston, Rhode Island

I clearly remember driving north on the New Jersey Turnpike to New York City in the fall of 1975. I was 18 years old. A well-worn eight-track of Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run was jiggered with a matchbook into the player in my mom's old red Eldorado. I was passing the Meadowlands with the windows down belting out one song after another. The scraggly, skinny poet who had played at my high-school dance three years earlier imbued the all too familiar with unparalleled radiance.

I grew up in central New Jersey with an alcoholic father. Springsteen perfectly articulated the quality of living in a small New Jersey town, a son's relations With his father, and the ensuing external and internal chaos that built up inside me. Like Springsteen, my father's illness shaped me. It came to define reactions, drive creativity, and make running from it all the only means to surviving.

What Springsteen poignantly captures is not exclusive to New Jersey or to growing up with a sick father. Anyone who grew up or still lives in any post-industrial town in America, anyone who has ever dealt with a difficult familial relationship, is spoken to with bare-bones honesty and poetic brilliance. The life experience in Bruce's lyrics is as sharp as anything any writer has ever given me. I'm glad it saves him, because it has sure helped save me. Thanks for giving us a great piece on this American hero, full of redemption, a savior on my street.

WILLIAM ABRANOWICZBedford, New York

Kudos to the Boss for speaking about his bouts with crippling depression, and to Vanity Fair for the in-depth article. Springsteen has done millions of Americans who struggle with the illness a tremendous service. That kind of candor not only gets people talking but also saves lives. His memoir will inspire others to get help and will spur an uptick in media awareness about the illness and its staggering global impact. Bruce Springsteen can now add "mental-health advocate" to his list of extraordinary accomplishments.

AUDREY GRUSSFounder and chair Hope for Depression Research Foundation New York, New York

Is "irony" the correct word? Whenever was in the dark tunnel, it was a Bruce song or timely concert that would pull me out. I know the exact moment I first heard "Bom to Run" and how fast my heart raced and my feet danced. Grateful.

LAURA NOLETacoma, Washington

My uncle, Tex Vinyard, was Springsteen's neighbor in Freehold, New Jersey. Bruce spent a lot of tune at my uncle's house because of issues with his father, Doug. Eventually my uncle became the manager of one of Bruce's first bands, the Castiles. My uncle would often send updates on Bruce and also the official band pictures. Bruce and I are the same age, so this was particularly exciting for me. Why, oh why, didn't I save those pictures!

GLORIA VINYARD FAYLORLeesburg, Florida

What a terrific cover photo by Annie Leibovitz. By the end of the article, I was in tears, having just lost my dad. I started seeing Bruce live in 1975. After every concert—to this date 74 shows—I walk out saying this was his best. I continue to see an artist with dedication and passion, which inspires me in my life to behave the same way. Thank you, Bruce, for your gift and for your inspiration!

GEORGE ZAVERDASLos Angeles, California

STAGE PRESENCE

Thank you so much for the sparkling visit with William Ivey Long ["Broadway's Costume King," by Amy Line Collins, September]. As the article said, William is indeed a funny, kind, and very talented genius! We first met when I was a "tiny dancer" in Paul Green's The Lost Colony, the outdoor drama that has been staged nearly continuously in Roanoke, Virginia, since 1937. I worked in the show as a dancer-actor for three seasons. Billy and his brother, Robert (Bobby), were in charge of props and costumes. Those summers are treasured. And the things that they made! Beautifully rendered props of all kinds!

We stayed in touch until my college years, and although I did not see him again until a Lost Colony reunion, I followed his amazing career, from wedding gowns to the ribbons he designed to be worn at the Tony Awards. Some of the photos taken at the reunion show are of us clowning about, and William looks just the same, with his curly hair and a twinkle in his eye.

By the way, if you read this letter, Mr. Long, I still cherish the Virginia Dare doll that you made for me. She stands proudly on a top shelf of a bookcase in my office. The doll is signed "William Ivey Long." I think she must be very valuable now. She always has been to me!

LYNN-JANE FOREMANAlexandria, Virginia

SQUEAKY CLEAN

James Wolcott's account ["California Duelin'," September] of the permanent schism in the soul of the Beach Boys reminded me of how lucky I was to see Mike Love and Brian Wilson perform together during the group's 50th-anniversary tour, in 2012, before Wilson jumped ship yet again. While the anxious expression on Brian's face at the piano reminded me how fragile the detente was, the sound of those voices harmonizing once again on gems such as "Lun, Lun, Lun" and "In My Room" briefly took me back to those halcyon sun-and-sand days, before Manson, psychotherapy, and lawsuits rent it all asunder.

STEPHEN CONNLas Cruces, New Mexico

In Mike Love's role as perennial franchise mainstay (not that he saved it—that was Carl), he would no doubt eagerly agree that, when the heavenly a cappella choir descends from on high at the end of the bridge in the Beach Boys' Spectoresque revival of Lrankie Lymon and the Teenagers' "Why Do Tools Tail in Love," Brian Wilson walks on water.

KENT WITTRUPLynn, Massachusetts

As one of the Beach Boys' publicists, I spent some cherished time with the guys during the Mike, Bruce, Al, and Carl years. I was the one who orchestrated an exclusive story for the Associated Press when Brian and Mike re-united for the first tune. We shot photos of the two of them at the piano together at the now defunct BeauRivage and with their toes in the sand in front of the Malibu Beach Inn. They had just collaborated on Stars and Stripes, an album with a gaggle of country legends doing their songs. I feel as if I need to set the record straight about this Mikeversus-Brian issue. I used to ask every reporter who wanted comments on the issues between the band members, "Are you married or in a relationship?" Most would answer yes. I would then ask, "While in an intimate relationship, were there issues that arose? Did you fight? Did money cause rancor? Did you bargain for control?" I'd say, "Now take the issues that happen between two people and magnify that to include five supercharged creative people."

I remember the first tune everyone was together at a studio in Burbank and I wanted to meet to discuss our publicity plans. The manager, Elliott Lott, guffawed and said, "That will never happen, my dear." Then I saw them in the studio and later onstage together, and it was as if nothing had been between them but magic.

Bands don't last for 50 years without a perfect storm of elements: pure creativity, emotional glue, and a masterful business vision. Likewise, each band member makes an integrally important contribution to an even greater whole.

ALYSON DUTCHMalibu, California

In your review of Beach Boy biographies, I was surprised to learn of my attempt to shower with Mike Love. Ironically, he's the second writer in as many months to allege a soap-and-water sexual advance by one of the "dirty Manson girls." Mike Love's memoir may be, as you say, a better read than Brian's, but I couldn't believe anything he says. I've never been within 10 feet of Mike Love.

LYNETTE FROMMECentral New York State

EDITOR'S NOTE: Lynette 'Squeaky" Fromme was a member of Charles Manson's "family." In 1975, she tried to assassinate President Gerald Ford. Fromme was released from prison in 2009.

CORRECTION: On page 208 of the November issue, in "No Place Like Rao's, " by Alex Witchel, the name of the singer who performed on the night of the 2003 shooting was incorrectly given. She is Rena Strober.

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