A tribute to Amanda from a Frank Kavelin
For those who remember Amanda Lamont from Horace Mann as well as from our sophomore and junior years at Beverly, she died in April 1987 at the age of 35. She lived in Lahaina, with her husband Tom. They lived an idyllic life, sailing their catamaran and taking tourists along for sightseeing and dive trips. She was misdiagnosed when she complained of fatigue and then died a short while later of toxic shock syndrome. She was a unique soul who was way ahead of her time and who sadly was taken way before her time.
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Michael Feder
Thanks for the sharing Friank. Amanda and I met at Bevely and it became a major life turning point. We spent the next year saving money and eventually moved to Maui together. Our few years there as a couple were romantic, idyllic and sweet beyond words and became the gold standard for me in terms of experiencing life on its terms and not my own. She remains one of the most remarkable women I have ever met; exquisite inside and out, incredibly mature, deeply spiritual, a uniquely gifted artist, adventurous, sensual, courageous and funny. She was a tremendous partner and opened my sheltered eyes to paths in my life I never knew existed. Her ability to observe life clearly and record those observations through her artwork was incredible. Her love of nature and the sea are still indelible imprints within my own life's choices. I was blessed to have known her...and too inexperienced with true partnership back then to fully appreciate how rare our time together was. Her attached school photo has been on my desk for many decades. Love and Light to you Dear Amanda.
Kathleen Rozier (Gauthier)
I am sad to see that Amanda has passed and at such a young age! We were not close friends, but I remember her fondly for her kind spirit and friendly demeanor and the warmth she exuded. . I can still see her on the tennis courts at Beverly. such a lovely girl. I always loved her name and her image and her name filled my mind when I was pregnant with my first of three daughters. so I decided to name my first born Amanda . RI.P. Amanda Lamont !
Michael White
Amanda (Mandy) may have been my first girlfriend. We went to Horace Mann, I think her parents were split up and I met her sometime around 3rd or 4th grade. She lived on my street, Hamilton Dr, next to La Cienega Park, down from the Fox theater. I remember she would send me little notes on her own stationary, with AMANDA spelled out as a skirt, like a Hirshfeld. I'm pretty sure she had a bumber pool table in her house we would play on. She was sweet, don't even remember if we kissed - prob not, lost touch with her as school progressed -I moved away after freshman year at Beverly. She was adorable to me back then and made a deep impression on what a really nice, cute girl could do to a young boy - in the most positive, innocent way. Very sad to hear she had a life shortened by a misdiagnoses. RIP Amanda.
Frank Kavelin
Amanda and Roxanne Davis (BHHS Class of '70) were BFFs. Roxanne wanted to post the following memories in the form of a thank you letter to Amanda. Here it is:
Dearest Darling Amanda,
It is with great love and admiration that I am writing this Thank You letter to you for all you shared and showed me as a dear friend when we were baby teenagers. Thank you for being one of the most enchanting, magical human beings I have ever encountered in over a half-century on the planet! If I had a time machine I would set it for 1967, the eve of the so-called "Cultural Revolution" when you so bravely and charmingly were ahead of the curve and super savvy about what has now become mainstream and popular in our now hyper-stimulated daily life.
How did you even know about so many cool things? It's as if you had a direct channel to the delights of this world, including its oddities and surprises. We met at La Cienega Park, when your suggestion to dress up my Shetland Sheepdog, Missy, as a Tahitian dancer, complete with genuine grass skirt, beads & feathers from your personal collection, had her winning a 1st place blue ribbon trophy for best costume at the pet show. I lived on Gale Drive and you lived around the corner on Hamilton, down from the Fox Theater, and had a bit of an exotic reputation because your family, (mom & sister Jennifer) would live in Hawaii for months at a time.
You might have been a real live angel sent to save my heart & soul from some destructive home dramas, and it turns out that a lot of our adventures were fun escapes from what I still consider some obscure danger. We religiously visited the Monday night art scene on La Cienega Boulevard from Santa Monica to Melrose, where we walked from gallery to gallery, all free and open. It was boom time for conceptual art - Op Art, Pop Art, the birth of Psychedelic Art. Lots of Lucite, optical illusions, glowing boxes. Art that moved and had messages. You were a junior when I was a sophomore. We both took art class with Arnita Albright, who encouraged a modern-edge sensibility. I remember you made a "Point of View" box -- a cube with random peek holes on four sides, covered with different colored cellophane on the inside, so that what you saw inside depended on which hole you were looking through. Trippy!!
You wrote letters in alphabets that were long & skinny, or short & fat, (like the Laurel & Hardy of penmanship) with the precise Rapidiograph Koh-I-Noor pens, or Winsor & Newton colorful inks to draw and chronicle our adventures such as: romps around the magical Electric Fountain at Santa Monica & Wilshire by night; or eating the short stack pancake breakfast at Nibbler's where we'd go before school; the fashions we wore -- Army/Navy Surplus store Pea coats with Vogue inspired accessories. You had some original style -- black & white patent leather spats and round glasses -- way before it was the fashion.
We had so much fun -- high brow & low brow. Your dad once took us to the members-only, uber-hip Daisy (discotheque). We pulled up in his buff yellow Rolls Royce. Fancy schmancy. You only laughed at any hint of snobbism. On our own we'd take the Wilshire bus or chant the mystic nam-myoho-renge-kyo to hitchhike to the Santa Monica Pier & Muscle Beach to see all there was to see--in a Ripley's Believe It or Not sort of way.
Thank you for being so kind and funny and generous. You naturally had so much of what everyone strives for. To be amused and delighted by all of life's absurdities and treasures, and seemingly detached from all the mean stuff. The strongest insult you would utter would be if someone was a "crumb-bum" or a "poo-head." You gave people funny nicknames and loved to pun.
You and your sister had a large collection of Dam Dolls, in a variety of handmade troll fashions. We'd shop for squares of felt at JJ Newberry's to make the doll clothes (cut holes for arms & pin the backs). They all had rhyming names, Gigi, Mimi, Fifi, Jackie...the fad was that the trolls were a source of good luck -- so ugly you had to laugh at them and if you were laughing, nothing bad could happen to you. We were on the cusp of innocence and the brave new world of grown-ups.
We'd watch Star Trek after school and whenever Spock said, "That's not logical, Captain," it set you laughing in agreement. You told me about the I Ching, the Chinese Book of Changes and You Are All Sanpaku by George Ohsawa, which is about the macrobiotic diet. You knew the benefits of apple cider vinegar and blackstrap molasses and seemed to have an endless supply of odd candies like Sen-Sen, Chowards Lavender Mints and a variety Hawaiian crack seed. How did you know about such things? You were a worldly 15!!!
In summer school we took a debate class together and argued for Vegetarianism (we won) and against Capital Punishment (I learned the word "deterrent" but we did not win the debate).
We had crushes on the few surfers at Beverly. Presented them with bunt cakes your mother taught you to make for tea?!?!
We went on an art field trip to see the bold graphics of Sister Corita Kent, whose art combined activism and faith in a playful search for goodness. We believed in the 10 Immaculate Heart College Art Department Rules such as, "Nothing is a mistake, there is no win and no fail, there is only make" and "Don't try to create and analyze at the same time. They are different processes" or "Consider everything an experiment".
You were on the tennis team at Beverly. You had a beautiful TAD Imperial racquet. I had a Jack Kramer. We not only played tennis at La Cienega Park & across the street at the Reservoir courts, we watched the various teachers and professionals who played there too. We also hung out at the tiny Arzy's Tennis Shop on La Cienega and bothered Creighton MacDonald who sat in a spotlight restringing the cat-gut racquets.
When you moved back to Maui you continued to delight by sending letters and packages full of inspiration, flowers, quotes, beaded rings and treasures, that were like a party arriving in the mail.
Thank you for sharing so much of your here, there and everywhere, otherworldly, high frequency magic. There's more of course. I remember so much because it’s with me to this day. What an amazing gift to have known you. Thank you for being such a beautiful and unique human.
Love Always,
Roxanne