When the news broke on August 31 1997 that Princess Diana had died, Mrs. W then Miss B and I were standing in my parents' house glued to an old Phillips television furniture piece that still required a regular visit from the repairman.

It was utterly devastating. My father wept openly. And when he did the same while watching her funeral on the same television, it was as intriguing as it was sad.

He continued, until his death, to hold Queen Elizabeth partially responsible. It was complicated.

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