On April 13, 1983, the newspaper published this article.
DOLORES DEL RíO, 78, IS DEAD; FILM STAR IN US AND MEXICO.
Dolores del Río, an actress of extraordinary beauty who became a film star in Hollywood and in her native Mexico, died Monday at her home in Newport Beach, California, of liver failure. She was seventy-eight years old and had been in failing health. During the days of silent films, Miss del Río’s face, elegant and expressive, made her one of Hollywood’s most sought-after actresses and one of its first Latin stars.
Vigils formed all over Mexico. Across the United States, fans held memorials. Carla Myer wrote a long and eloquent obituary, in which she called Dolores del Río “a great actress and a great lady.” A few days later, Myer announced her own retirement.
When Lola became seriously ill, I visited her in the hospital, of course, but when the end finally came, I found out from the newspaper Mrs. Carver brought in to the shop. Nobody called me, not even Lew. It wasn’t surprising really. I’d never been close with Lew, and almost no one else knew that Lola had been my friend. Mrs. Carver had cried buckets, she said. The career of Dolores del Río had spanned her lifetime, and now the star was gone. She felt as though she’d lost a personal friend.
“You said you knew her,” she reminded me. “Write her story. No one else can.”
I called my daughters, who came over. We reminisced about Lola, and we wept together. Afterward, we all went into the kitchen, made dinner, and sat down to eat.
That evening, after they had gone, I sat back down at the kitchen table and thought about what Mrs. Carver had said. I thought back over the long years I’d spent by Lola’s side. Then I picked up my pen.