I met Whitney Houston for the first time in April, 2007. I have a contact in LA who called to say that Whitney wanted to view some oceanfront rentals. She needed a place to stay for a few months near Chrissy's school in Huntington Beach. I got to the property before she did and was inside when they arrived. She was wearing a white trench coat with plaid lining. She was tinier than I expected, very pretty, polite and was accompanied by her Silkie terrier, "Doogie," a bodyguard and my contact. She introduced herself and shook my hand. She wasn't impressed by the first place, so we drove to another property on the boardwalk. It was a busy Saturday at the beach so we had to park on the street and walk about a block and a half to the property. Whitney walked right past quite a few people on the sidewalk who took no notice of her - she had a way of tucking her head down a bit and not making eye contact that gave her some anonymity. We went into an upper unit where she and my contact went out onto the balcony. They started squealing. A guy was riding past on a bike with a topless girl behind him. We all had a good laugh. She didn't like either property and we had nothing else available right away, so I told them I would keep looking. I showed her another home a few weeks later. She was very warm and relaxed that day - had on a cool jeans jacket with big angel wings on the back. She loved the property but not the location, she was extremely concerned about privacy and was worried about people trying to get in to the house. It had a great pool which was important because Chrissy loves to swim. She hugged me and asked if I could find her the exact same house, but in a better location. Sure, Whitney!
My contact kept calling saying I had to find her a place, so I felt a lot of pressure, but we didn't have anything I thought would work for her. I dreamed about a house on the water one night shortly afterward. The owner had called me a year earlier to ask about listing his property with us but he hadn't followed up. I found his number and called him the next morning. He agreed to rent the house if she liked it, which she did. She wanted to come back with her family, so we met there a second time. As we were talking outside on the patio that afternoon, Whitney waved at people floating by in Duffy boats. I wondered if they had any idea who was waving to them. She was once again very worried about privacy. I told her it was a quieter area, that I often walked my dogs nearby and that people were nice, not nosy. She said, "Yes, but you're Jane and I'm Whitney." I couldn't argue with that. She asked where they could get some Krispy Kreme doughnuts, she wanted some. She ended up taking the house and stayed there for several months. I don't know if they ever found her the doughnuts.
I heard from my contact again in April, 2011. Whitney wanted to come back for the remainder of the year and wanted to see what was available. At the time, we had nothing much to offer, so I put her in the property they'd stayed at in 2007. Whitney decided to stay at the HB Hilton and left the "kids," Chrissy and a boy about the same age, at the house. She wanted something in a more residential area - a real house as opposed to the beach house.
Several weeks later, I had a couple of properties to show her, so we arranged to meet. The first place I took her to see was on Lido Island. She breezed in, always polite to introduce herself, but had a bit of an attitude that day. She wasn't the same Whitney I had dealt with in 2007. I knew right away this home wasn't going to work - she had an "I don't think so!" look on her face pretty much as soon as she walked in. She went upstairs to check out the bedrooms and I heard her bellow "NEEEXXXXT!!!!!!" from the top of the stairs. I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, "Wow, what a Diva." We piled into our cars and went to see another property, on the bay near the mouth of the harbor. She loved it. I went back and forth with the agent representing the property. The owners wanted to use it for the month of August, so the rental wouldn't work for her. Whitney was really disappointed. I promised to continue looking for something else.
We had a yearly listing farther from the beach with a pool. I called the week following and we met there. She loved the house - it was in a gated community so she felt fairly safe and the living room was all glass overlooking the pool, which made the house very pleasant. She wanted to come back with her brother and sister-in-law Pat, whom I had also met on her previous trip, to see what they thought. The second time, she was dressed all in white, wrapped in a soft sweater and greeted me with a big hug. She brought her mom along and a couple of friends, one who I recognized as gospel singer Cece Winans, who is an absolute sweetheart. We got to talking about churches in the area. I said I went to Newport Church which was an offshoot of Hillsong Church in Australia. Whitney said, "You white people have a funny way of worshipping God" and did an imitation - waving her arms back & forth in the air saying, "I love you Jesus, I love you Jesus." We were all giggling, then Cece told her, "No, Whitney, you like Hillsong music - you know that song "How Great Is Our God? That's Hillsong." Cece proceeded to lead Whitney line by line through the song and we got a little mini-concert. Cece has a voice like an angel. Priceless.
I had scheduled several vendors to meet us because the house was empty - I'd have to have it furnished from scratch. We met with two furniture rental companies and a window coverings company. It was great watching their faces when they realized who she was. She said Chrissy had to have a round bed, had to, so I contacted Custom Comfort, and they said they could make one. As we walked through the house figuring out who would get which room, she brought up the very nice young man who was always with Chrissy. I had assumed it was Chrissy's boyfriend. Whitney said his parents were "crack heads" who didn't take care of him, so she took him in. He was related in some way, I think. Chrissy had said that they both planned to go to OCC as soon as they got into a more permanent place. Whitney kept saying if it was the right house God would make it happen. They couldn't make a decision on the spot, because they had to contact the record company about the cost. The record company paid her an allowance and we had to have the price come in under that monthly budget, which was limited.
I was exhausted by the time they left. Whitney is an enigma - she isn't "contained" - she just goes from one thought to the next and shifts gears endlessly. It's emotionally draining to be around her because you never know what she's thinking or what's going to happen next. When everyone was gone, I was closing up the house and heard a horn honking. I heard someone yelling my name so I went to the front door. It was Whitney - hollering out the passenger window asking if the pool was heated. I said, yes, it was, and told her the belt to her sweater was hanging out the car door. She pulled it back in, thanked me, and they drove off. It was the last time I would see her. Her sister-in-law called a week or so later to tell me they decided to take the place, and I found out someone had rented the house the day before. I continued to look at properties I thought might work, but Pat finally told me Whitney had decided to stay in Atlanta for a while.
Several weeks later, I had a couple of properties to show her, so we arranged to meet. The first place I took her to see was on Lido Island. She breezed in, always polite to introduce herself, but had a bit of an attitude that day. She wasn't the same Whitney I had dealt with in 2007. I knew right away this home wasn't going to work - she had an "I don't think so!" look on her face pretty much as soon as she walked in. She went upstairs to check out the bedrooms and I heard her bellow "NEEEXXXXT!!!!!!" from the top of the stairs. I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, "Wow, what a Diva." We piled into our cars and went to see another property, on the bay near the mouth of the harbor. She loved it. I went back and forth with the agent representing the property. The owners wanted to use it for the month of August, so the rental wouldn't work for her. Whitney was really disappointed. I promised to continue looking for something else.
We had a yearly listing farther from the beach with a pool. I called the week following and we met there. She loved the house - it was in a gated community so she felt fairly safe and the living room was all glass overlooking the pool, which made the house very pleasant. She wanted to come back with her brother and sister-in-law Pat, whom I had also met on her previous trip, to see what they thought. The second time, she was dressed all in white, wrapped in a soft sweater and greeted me with a big hug. She brought her mom along and a couple of friends, one who I recognized as gospel singer Cece Winans, who is an absolute sweetheart. We got to talking about churches in the area. I said I went to Newport Church which was an offshoot of Hillsong Church in Australia. Whitney said, "You white people have a funny way of worshipping God" and did an imitation - waving her arms back & forth in the air saying, "I love you Jesus, I love you Jesus." We were all giggling, then Cece told her, "No, Whitney, you like Hillsong music - you know that song "How Great Is Our God? That's Hillsong." Cece proceeded to lead Whitney line by line through the song and we got a little mini-concert. Cece has a voice like an angel. Priceless.
I had scheduled several vendors to meet us because the house was empty - I'd have to have it furnished from scratch. We met with two furniture rental companies and a window coverings company. It was great watching their faces when they realized who she was. She said Chrissy had to have a round bed, had to, so I contacted Custom Comfort, and they said they could make one. As we walked through the house figuring out who would get which room, she brought up the very nice young man who was always with Chrissy. I had assumed it was Chrissy's boyfriend. Whitney said his parents were "crack heads" who didn't take care of him, so she took him in. He was related in some way, I think. Chrissy had said that they both planned to go to OCC as soon as they got into a more permanent place. Whitney kept saying if it was the right house God would make it happen. They couldn't make a decision on the spot, because they had to contact the record company about the cost. The record company paid her an allowance and we had to have the price come in under that monthly budget, which was limited.
I was exhausted by the time they left. Whitney is an enigma - she isn't "contained" - she just goes from one thought to the next and shifts gears endlessly. It's emotionally draining to be around her because you never know what she's thinking or what's going to happen next. When everyone was gone, I was closing up the house and heard a horn honking. I heard someone yelling my name so I went to the front door. It was Whitney - hollering out the passenger window asking if the pool was heated. I said, yes, it was, and told her the belt to her sweater was hanging out the car door. She pulled it back in, thanked me, and they drove off. It was the last time I would see her. Her sister-in-law called a week or so later to tell me they decided to take the place, and I found out someone had rented the house the day before. I continued to look at properties I thought might work, but Pat finally told me Whitney had decided to stay in Atlanta for a while.
I had a dream Friday night that I was in a waiting room with a couple other people. Someone brought Whitney in and she sat down across from me and said, "Hi, Jane." I said hello and the person behind me asked Whitney if she knew me. She said yes and they asked how. She said we had a mutual friend, which I thought was a very smart way to answer the question. She had her hair smooth and pulled back in a bun - not in any way I ever remember seeing her in real life. She looked older and very mature.
When I heard that they had announced that she'd died, but the reports were unconfirmed, I so hoped it was a mistake. It felt as though I'd been kicked in the stomach. I'm still having a little trouble processing it now, hence the journalling/blogging. I know she's in Heaven - she told me more than once, "I love my Jesus." I am praying for her mom and especially for Chrissy. They were so, so close - always together. They were sisters and best friends as well as mother and daughter. I cannot imagine the pain Chrissy is going through.
I wish Whitney could see the outpouring of emotion from so many people who loved and admired her. I'm grateful that I had a chance to spend a little time with her while she was here. And I'm hoping the waiting room in my dream wasn't Heaven's waiting room...
When I heard that they had announced that she'd died, but the reports were unconfirmed, I so hoped it was a mistake. It felt as though I'd been kicked in the stomach. I'm still having a little trouble processing it now, hence the journalling/blogging. I know she's in Heaven - she told me more than once, "I love my Jesus." I am praying for her mom and especially for Chrissy. They were so, so close - always together. They were sisters and best friends as well as mother and daughter. I cannot imagine the pain Chrissy is going through.
I wish Whitney could see the outpouring of emotion from so many people who loved and admired her. I'm grateful that I had a chance to spend a little time with her while she was here. And I'm hoping the waiting room in my dream wasn't Heaven's waiting room...
