In Memory of Louise Labianca

There are some people who come into your life unexpectedly and leave a lasting impression on you. For me, Louise LaBianca was one of those people. 

I had not heard from Louise in a couple of months, so when I learned of her passing, I was devastated. It is difficult to put into words the sadness that comes along with with losing someone who was genuinely sweet, kind, and a thoughtful woman. Louise deserved far more time, far more happiness, and far more peace than life ultimately gave her. 

One of the things that first brought us together was something ordinary: music. 

Louise and I discovered that we shared a love for many of the same bands, and those conversations became something I always looked forward to. We could talk about music, trade opinions, reminisce about songs, and artists, and simply enjoy the fact that we had so much in common. Among her favorites were the B-52's, a band she genuinely loved. It might seem a small thing, especially compared with the tragedy that surrounded so much of her family's history. But those conversations allowed me to know Louise as Louise-not simply as the daughter of Leno LaBianca. 

That distinction is important. 

Louise carried a part of her father's story with her throughout her life, and we talked about Leno and the murder that changed her family forever. She spoke about her father and about the profound effect his murder had on her and those around her. What struck me the most was that, despite all the years that had passed, there were still questions and emotions that never completely went away.

Louise had never fully understood why her father had been killed. She wanted answers, she wanted the truth. More importantly she wanted people to know who her father really was rather than allowing myths, rumors, and sensationalized stories to define him. 

That meant a great deal to her. 

Leno LaBianca has often been reduced to a name in a book or a victim in a notorious crime. But to Louise, he wasn't a footnote. He was her father. He was a person she loved, remembered, and continued to grieve. She wanted to clear up the myths surrounding him and make sure the man behind the name was never forgotten. 

We also discussed Rosemany.

Louise did not have the same depth of memories of her step-mother that she did of her father, she did not know Rosemary well enough to have the kind of relationship that might have developed and circumstances been different. Yet the memories Louise did have of her step-mother were remarkably loving and motherly. Those small memories mattered. Even though they were limited, they represented a connection to someone who was taken from her far too violently and far too soon. 

There is something particularly heartbreaking about hearing someone speak about a parent they were never given the opportunity to know fully. 

Louise lived in that absence. 

But Louise was much more than the tragedy that happened to her family. 

She was funny, she was kind, she was passionate about music. She was someone who could sit and talk for hours about bands and songs, and forget, at least for a little while, about the darkness that had followed her family for decades. 

That is how I will remember her. 

I will remember the conversations about music. I will remember discovering how many of the same bands we liked. I will remember talking about the B-52's and how that I am a "southern boy" and tended to love those bands from Athens area of Georgia since it was just 2 hours away from where I lived in Chattanooga. Those conversations made her smile. I will remember our conversations about her father, her step-mother, and the complicated feelings she carried because of what happened to them. 

Most of all, I will remember Louise as a sweet woman who wanted nothing more than to understand the past and make sure the truth wasn't buried beneath decades of sensationalism. 

She deserved to be heard. 

She deserved to be remembered for who she was. 

And she deserved to have people see Louise-simply not as Leno LaBianca's daughter. but as a woman with her own memories, her own passions, her own personality, and her own story. 

I am deeply sorry that I didn't get the chance to speak to her again before she passed. Knowing that I hadn't heard from her in a couple of months makes the news even harder to process. There is always that feeling that perhaps there would have been another conversation, another discussion about music, another story about her father, another opportunity to tell her that what she was doing mattered. 

Unfortunately, there wasn't. 

Louise I hope you finally have the peace that you spent so much of your life searching. 

I hope your father is remembered not merely for the horrific circumstances of his death, but for the life that he lived and the daughter who never stopped caring about him. 

And I hope your memories of Rosemary remain a reminder that, despite everything that happened, there were moments of love and tenderness that belonged to you and cannot be taken away. 

Thank you for the conversations, the music, the memories, and the trust. 

You were genuinely a kind and sweet woman, Louise and I'm grateful our paths crossed. 

You will be missed. 

Rest Peacefully, Louise.