When I was 4 years old, the first song I ever sang in front of my mom and grandma was Whitney’s version of “I Will Always Love You,” because “Whip-ney Houston is my favorite singer,” I told them. I’m truly saddened by the news of her death.
Many people tend to think solely of the side of Whitney that focused on the negative. The side that spiraled out of control, never regaining footing. I only saw her as the shining star from The Bodyguard (it probably had a bit of something to do with that armored costume she wore for her “Queen of the Night” performance). I saw her as the woman who imitated Audrey Hepburn in the “I’m Your Baby Tonight” video. I still saw her as the first lady singing her heart out in The Preacher’s Wife. “Whip-ney,” the woman whose cover of “I’m Every Woman” had me furiously doing the running man when the video played; who gave me “I Have Nothing,” so that I could be a finalist in a kid’s singing competition; and whose duet with Brandy, “Impossible,” was hummed quite often when I was a 9 year-old kid.
She was Whitney Houston, a legendary and powerful voice, and my favorite singer.