David Bolt was the man who discovered and launched me. Along with a select few--Jacqueline, Roger, Marlene, Barbara--I owe everything to him.
David passed away two weeks short of his 85th birthday and had been ill for some time.
It was David who took us in, in May 1992, when I was being hounded by the press after Marlene died. The phone never stopped ringing, and reporters were always at the door. The tabloids were the worst, then as now. They weren't interested in Marlene the star, but in getting any juicy tidbits out of me, which were not forthcoming.
At David's home, in Surrey, we were able to mourn Marlene properly. Each time a journalist called, he or she was told that they would have to part with a five-figure sum, and they always did. His theory was that the newspapers have more money than morals, therefore let them pay.
David was a tough cookie--like myself he took shit from no one.
He was a true gentleman, and there aren't many of those around.