Julio Mario Santo Domingo, Jr., the friend of my youth, is dead

I am extremely saddened to hear that Julio Santo Domingo, Jr. has died.  Several months ago, I had heard that he was gravely  ill and that he was in New York for treatment for cancer — and that the prognosis was not good.

But I was shocked when opening the pages of the current Vanity Fair with its feature by Bob Collacello about the new generation of the rich and famous — his children were there, described as being from “the late” Julio Mario Santo Domingo, Jr.

I googled him and found very little — but then I found an article in French that explained that there was a good reason that Princess Caroline of Monaco’s son had missed The Rose Ball — his girlfriend, Julio’s daughter had traveled to New York to be at the funeral of her father and he had gone to be with her. The article expressed its condolences.

I had not seen Julio in many years, possibly more than 25 years. He had moved to Geneva and we had lost contact.

I had always assumed that one day we would reconnect — he had gone off to raise his children,  to make his own name, his own fortune and I had gone to do the same.  I thought that I would turn up in Geneva, or he in LA, or that we would find each other in New York again, and that we would have fun.  Because as I recalled him, it was always fun to be with Julio.  I always imagined a third act in our lives in which, like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid — or more like George Plimpton and Ali Khan, that we would publish books or produce movies or have a club together. But that is not to be.

I have much to thank Julio for, for the time we spent together, for the friendship, and for the doors he opened for me. I owe a lot to Julio.  Julio is in no small part responsible for the launch of my early professional writing career, and for some memorable concerts we attended, and some memorable people I met because of him. We enjoyed each other’s company — I think each thought the other knew things that we each wanted to know and master.

I first met Julio in Paris in the Spring of 1976. I was there for a junior year abroad program. I had been given the name of a young woman to look up in Paris, the daughter of a sculptor.  She invited me to a brunch where Julio was among the guests. I don’t think I ever saw her again.

But the following week, while I was walking down a street I ran into Julio. I was taking courses at Science Po and at Columbia’s Reid Hall and he was studying at Paris 2, in the faculty of law — and not liking it much. I was 20 at the time, he was 18.  We ended up going to lunch at the University cafeteria and became friends.

I remember learning that he was from Colombia, that his parents were divorced, his mother was Brazilian — I had been to Brazil and spoke a little portuguese. I met his mother in Paris, I seem to recall. What I recall, is that from the first, Julio was easy to talk to, he listened, and he had much to share about his own conflicts and enthusiasms, and the time flew.

I can’t remember much specifically of our time together in Paris. I do remember when I found myself in an apartment in Paris with Julio and several very attractive girls who had last names such as Battista and Somoza.

JAs I recall him, ulio was tall, and thin, he had a certain elegance but it was all very casual — he was perhaps one of the most handsome men I have known — he had his own relaxed style — but when we met, he was young — he was in the process of becoming, somewhat unsure of where he was going — and despite acting mature in many ways and in the ways of the world, Julio also had a quality that made him seem very much the teenager he still was. He had a softness, a gentleness, a generosity, and a kindness that was rare and he had a devilish side as well — and the combination was pretty irresistible. But when all was said and done we were students in Paris, enjoying all that we could.

I called up my roommate during that time in Paris, Larry Schoen asked him what he remembered about Julio. Larry said, that although Julio was “tall, dark and handsome and always got the girl” that he had a down to earth quality that made it easy to be with. That it was fun to be with Julio. In those student days we liked going out to clubs until the wee hours. We took Julio to the Bus Palladium, and he took us to Jimmy’s and Castel’s. Larry seemed to recall him always smiling, and generous in an easy going way. And that the wide variety of people Julio knew was always surprising.

Julio’s father was friends with Ahmet Ertegun (Julio was Ahmet’s godson) and that gave Julio great access.

When the Rolling Stones played in Nice that summer, the first time they had played in France in twelve years, Julio got us tickets. He had a room at the Negresco and we had drinks with Billy Preston at the Eden Roc and played with Marlon, Keith’s son in the lobby, and at the concert went backstage (which is neither as interesting as it sounds or as I hoped but were able to see the concert from backstage — or the side of the stage.

At some point the following year Julio turned up in New York. It’s possible we sent each other letters and that’s how we got back in touch — I’m not sure but that’s what I recall.

It’s strange: my memories of Julio do not follow a straight line, rather they exist in dribs and drabs, in moments and scenes, and I will conjure what I can.

I recall we spent New Year’s Eve 1977  together attending a concert at the Palladium on East 14th featuring Tom Verlaine and Television, Talking Heads and Patti Smith bringing in the New Year — I still have the mimeographed handout Patti Smith gave out that night.

Julio had many friends who like him seemed to exists in an international swirl and I remember some of them Lowell Guiness, Sabrina Guiness, Roget De Cabrol and his wife — I seem to recall there was an opening of a club called Rock Lounge, and I recall at a later date being at a party where Julio introduced me to a young girl who was studying at Columbia but wanted to be an actress — I was skeptical and all the more surprised when years later I turned on the TV to see  Catherine Oxenburg on screen.

I’m sure each of Julio’s friends has his or her own memories of him  and I hope that in the days and months to come there will be a way for them to remember him.

I remember Julio’s father, who was called Julio Mario was always worried about Julio (sometimes for good reason) and on occasion his father his asked for my advice or help in talking to Julio — at one point regarding attending university in the States which he did — although I have no idea whether he graduated.

Julio Mario had remarried and I recall that when his son was born, how tickled Julio then 19 or so was to be an uncle.

At some point, there was a general consensus that Julio’s life was spinning out of control and he agreed to take part in a 28 day residential program on the Upper West side of Manhattan (i”m writing from memory but it may have been Daytop Village). This was not a luxury program in any way, and I recall visiting Julio there and seeing him cleaning up the day room and his own small room — he was as comfortable in the program and with his fellow residents as he was among rock stars and royalty, and he was enthusiastic about the progress, maturity and perpective he gained from the program. He began to search for a career.

I seemed to recall that one point he had something to do with an aviation company — they were selling airplanes and Julio was supposed to learn about the planes and sell them but that didn’t really seem to take. He spent a summer working at an investment company with offices on Madison Avenue and there he seemed to find his footing, going on to work for them further.

I remember when Julio told me he now had a serious girlfriend Vera — and I recall that they made a home in a penthouse apartment at One Fifth Avenue — with great pride he showed me how he and Vera had decorated it.

Vera threw a dinner party in the apartment on the occasion of Julio’s 21rst birthday. It was a small intimate party. Today, I think “he was only 21 then!” but he was already living an adult life.

For me the night had a large impact.  Among the guests I met was Bob Collacello, then editor of Interview –  Julio introduced us, when Collacello heard I was at his alma mater Columbia and wrote a column for the law school newspaper that mimicjked his gossip column “Out” , he invited me to send him a column and to come and visit the Interview offices.

When I few weeks later, I visited the Interview offices, I not only met Andy Warhol but I was introduced to the magazine’s editors including Robert Hayes and Gael Love, and I got my first interview assignment, Jeff Bridges as well as interest in my interviewing Jerzy Kosinski if the first one worked out. For me that was a major break. Working for Interview and hanging out with the Interview crowd would lead to other friendships – and other opportunities to be in the room — so many experiences and opportunities and chance encounters that remain meaningful in my life. And I can say but for Julio….. in many ways, in the many people I met or saw or got to know from hanging our with him, my life was infinitely richer.

And did I mention that Mick Jagger dropped by Julio’s birthday party?

When I spoke to Larry Schoen about Julio in Paris and later in New York, he said that his impression was of someone who was in and out of our lives — disappearing for long stretches but then turning up again, always soliticous, always a friend. This is my impression too.

One day Julio told me that Vera was pregnant and they were going to have a child.  He was delighted to have a little girl — I remember him telling me about how all the love inside him was released to flow to this little creature that gave love back in equal amounts.It made him a child again — and yet somehow allowed him to become an adult. Two years later another child, a son.

Sometime after that I heard that he was moving to Geneva to work for an investment company there. We lost touch. I was writing a book spending time in Israel, then writing one in New York, then I moved to LA. — I never got to Geneva.  Occasionally I woud see his name in a newspaper but somehow our paths never crossed. Ironically as the world has moved to a society in which we googe, facebook and twitter — I’m sure we would have reconnected in good time. But time ran out.

I often say that some of the best things in my life have happened as a result of hanging out. Let me amend that: some of the best things in my life happened as a result of hanging out with Julio.

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