This is one of the saddest days of my life and when you learn that the giant satirist, writer, essayist Nora Ephron has died, as she did yesterday in New York Hospital, it should be sad for you too. Nora was the-better-than-Dorothy Parker literary genius of our times and a much finer more marvelous human being than the downbeat Dottie. In fact, comparisons ARE odious.
I have been glancing through my Nora file, which, if I had kept it up since I first met her way back in the early 60’s, when The New York Post was owned by a Jewish liberal, I would own something priceless.
But I can’t bear to look into it right now. Nora seemed fine when we lunched about a month ago. I knew she’d been ill but never that it was fatal. I am
as shocked as anyone else. There will be a funeral
tomorrow at 11:30 but I am reluctant to say where for fear there’ll be a riot.
I will have to write about Nora Ephron another day but my heart goes to Nick Pileggi, Jacob and Max Bernstein and the thousands of people who adored Nora Ephron. I am just one of them.