Here, Love pays tribute to her friend who shaped her life in her own words.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\tI hitchhiked to Hollywood from San Francisco in 1983. I wanted to go to Hollywood more than anything.<\/p>\n
\n\tI met Jennifer at her father\u2019s home. I\u2019m a feral person. Growing up in foster care didn\u2019t give me much likability or infrastructure for knowing how to relate to people. She had all that, and she covered for me. I\u2019d only met three other people who liked me at that point in life. Jennifer was the most important.<\/p>\n
\n\tJennifer took to me immediately, and she never stopped protecting me from the summer of 1983 onwards. When you come to Hollywood and have no means, Jennifer\u2019s house always had a couch. Her dad always had cheese and Cap\u2019n Crunch. A safe couch. And she always had records. We spent thousands of hours listening to them and learning them.<\/p>\n
\n\tThat house is the closest thing to a home I\u2019ll ever have.<\/p>\n
\n\tI\u2019d come from Dublin, England, Portland, and New Zealand. My musical taste ran from [the Birthday Party\u2019s] Drunk on the Pope\u2019s Blood<\/em> to U2 and Echo and the Bunnymen. This new SST hardcore scared me, but she made me see the wit in it. The George Clinton in the Chili Peppers, which I still find funny, and the depth.<\/p>\n\n\n \t\tEditor\u2019s picks<\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/section>\n
\n\tShe dragged me to shows. There wasn\u2019t a day she didn\u2019t stand by the strange girl from up north. We had guitars and taught each other to play. The Runaways were our Sex Pistols.<\/p>\n
\n\tShe introduced me to Pat Smear. Without a doubt, Pat is who I told Kurt he should ask to be in Nirvana when he was depressed that his bandmates made him sad. He wanted a happy bandmate. I called Pat.<\/p>\n
\n\tIn 1988, when nobody in L.A. would have wagered on me, Jennifer cosigned me to Flea. Flea said yes, and we had the Chili Peppers\u2019 rehearsal space, which is why there is Hole.<\/p>\n
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\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/p><\/div>\n<\/p><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\tCourtesy of Jennifer Precious Finch\u2019s archive<\/span><\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCourtesy of Jennifer Finch\u2019s Archive<\/cite><\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\tIn my 62 years, I can think of nobody more loyal or honourable. A true friend, who also gave me the security of having one house where I was safe.<\/p>\n
\n\tIt\u2019s worth noting that she was clean and sober for 37 years [at the time of her death]. She joined L7 in 1986 and helped make it the force it became, doing all that grunge without once getting high.<\/p>\n
\n\tJennifer was a teenage terror. She ran the tables on all the Dogtown Betties and all the Hollywood street girls. She was queen boss. She ruled the roost of the teenage gangs. Back then, the LAPD more than once tossed us into dumpsters or shoved us around. She was fearless with them.<\/p>\n\n\n \t\tRelated Content<\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/section>\n
\n\tWhen Kurt died, Jennifer was the general in Seattle. She guarded my door like an armed soldier. She confronted and stopped Kurt\u2019s managers and a suit from trying to leave our house with a Flipper album and a Bunnymen album. The joke was on that guy. Clearly not a Kurt lover.<\/p>\n
\n\tKurt adored Jennifer, and she was one of the few people he spoke to a few times a week. She got me through that horrible month and didn\u2019t leave my side.<\/p>\n
\n\tOn June 10, when I entered that house, I saw terror and entrapment drowning in her eyes. For five weeks, my only job was to help make sure she had the best possible end-of-life care, until July 18.<\/p>\n
\n\tThere are people here who stood up and showed real heroism.<\/p>\n
\n\tThere were no means, no money, and no access to the men I know with power, but my manager said, \u201cWho cares if there\u2019s no money? She was in one of the most important bands ever.\u201d That gave my heart the dignity Jennifer deserved.<\/p>\n
\n\tWhen it was finally undeniable that she was dying, my job was to make sure she was surrounded by love in a safe place, while her medical team kept her comfortable.<\/p>\n
\n\tJennifer Precious Finch was 10,000 levels of funny. She could not have written her chaotic ending better herself.<\/p>\n
\n\tMore than 100 people were fighting to get in, arguing that they were on the list as if it were a club, because she had more than 100 passionate friends who would hock their houses for her. There were bouncers rotating at the door, people arguing about playlists and almost fist-fighting, duvets from the Chateau Marmont, a Sikh saint with his crystal xylophone, robes and slippers, Apple Pan and Roscoe\u2019s Chicken and Waffles. The tired, the sick, the hungry, the famous and tons of ex-boyfriends, all regretting their wrongs. She loved it. Everyone remembering her with love and sobbing.<\/p>\n
\n\tAt 4 in the morning, when her body shut down and the medical staff said it was time, I heard someone say, \u201cBut we ordered breakfast for 8, and Flea\u2019s coming at 9.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tI laughed.<\/p>\n
\n\tIt was an Andy Kaufman, Carrie Fisher exit. It was Steve Jobs saying, \u201cOh wow,\u201d as he saw whatever was on the other side and left all of us guessing until it\u2019s our turn.<\/p>\n
\n\tIt was funny as hell. Chaotic, like her. Going out in the world\u2019s most glamorous hospital wing \u2014 the Billy Wilder wing where Elizabeth Taylor died \u2014 named after the director of Marilyn\u2019s best movie [Some Like It Hot<\/em>] and, consequently, the best movie about an all-girl band ever, with the greatest last line in cinema history: \u201cNobody\u2019s perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n \t\tTrending Stories<\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/section>\n
\n\tWaiting for craft services, our favourite trumpet player and her medical team keeping her comfortable is the most Jennifer Finch thing ever.<\/p>\n
\n\tAnd you can take that to the bank.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
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