Eighty three years ago today Rudolph Valentino died. He had brought a single red rose to Ditra Flame when she was deathly sick in the hospital as a child with the request that she return the favor on the anniversary of his death.
Did he give her a carrot on a stick? Maybe so. But surely she experienced some joy as the mysterious lady in black who made annual visits to his crypt.
I guess we can all hope to endear ourselves to at least one person who will remember us after we are gone, either on our birthday, our wedding day, the day we died or some other meaningful date on the calender.
Rest in peace, Rudolph Guglielmi Valentino!
