Dad bought Mom this fox fur coat after one of their legendary arguments. I still have it.
My mother, the Jewish princess. More like the warrior of radical peace. She’s going to hate me for saying that.
With Grandma Bunny (the kneeling blonde), my aunt Lorie (in the green scarf), and my mother’s friends, who were gathered for my first birthday.
Here I am as a baby with Grandma Bunny, Mom, and my great-grandparents, Gus and Sharlet. My grandparents spent a lot of time at the marina. It was a Jewish Yacht Club—what can you expect?
I had the lead in our jazz class recital. I could bust a move even then. Dancing was the thing I loved when being with Dad or Mom got to be too much.
I tried so hard to be a ballerina (far left).
With my handsome half brother Richard Jr. and a friend.
My Saturday Night Fever–themed birthday party.
I loved the Fonz—note the thumb in the mouth, both cool and comforting.
I loved my rainbow Afro wig. I could create whole worlds that were sometimes far better than the reality.
With my half sister Elizabeth and her mother, Maxine, who never married my father. Maxine welcomed me with open arms.
My half sister Elizabeth and I at the disco birthday party.
Mamma, my great-grandmother and the proprietor of the finest group of whorehouses in Peoria, always brought stability (and great cooking) to my dad’s house when she arrived for long visits.
Dad was always happiest around the holidays, when his family was around him.
I loved to go into Dad’s closet and put on his clothes because they smelled like him. But his girlfriends kept accusing me of stealing.
Dad and I taking a nap in 1983. Rare, since there was always some woman lurking around.
Dad dressed as a hobo on The Richard Pryor Show.
Me dressed as a hobo for Halloween, with my great-grandparents, Sharlet and Gus, my grandparents, Bunny and Herb, and a friend.
On vacation in Nice, France, in July 1977: Dad’s then-wife Deborah, Dad, me, Elizabeth, Richard Jr., and Renee (who may or may not have been my sister).
My half sister Elizabeth, Jennifer Lee, me, and Dad getting ready to leave Hana, Hawaii, on a charter plane. This was after a huge fight in which I witnessed Dad beating Jennifer.
The nice Jewish girl graduates from eighth grade. Grandma Bunny was very proud.
As Princess Tiger Lily in my high school production of Peter Pan.
With my best friend Gabe Bologna (at right) and the rest of the members of our band, Rococo, which lasted a memorable and brilliant four months.
The drill team helped me “get my black back.” But in high school I was never black enough, white enough, or Jewish enough.
With my dad at his fiftieth birthday party. The MS was affecting his ability to move about on his own, and his right hand would shake uncontrollably.
Here I am with my dad at the American Comedy Awards, 1993
With my dad on his fifty-fifth birthday. By this time the MS had him completely wheelchair bound. It became more difficult for him to speak clearly all the time. But he did his best.
With my dad at one of our monthly visits in the last years of his life. He was wearing one of those velour track suits, and I thought, Wait a minute! I’m the Jewish one, not you! On our visits Dad would have trouble speaking, so we would blow kisses and I’d ask him yes or no questions.
Mom and I go to Disneyland every year for my birthday.
With Mom at Christmas. We truly appreciate each other now, and we love to show it at the holidays.
A stranger took this photo just after Kevin proposed to me on Butterfly Beach in Montecito, California, in September 2001.
The marquee at the Canon Theatre in Beverly Hills for the opening of my show, Fried Chicken and Latkas. The show changed my life—some of it great and some of it painful.