The Tragic Life of Jeanine Deckers
It's back to work tomorrow. I am getting the itch to make myself useful again. I can only be off work for so long and I need to do something. I could not stay at home all day every day. It's not for me.
So today, since I had the day completely to myself, the task at hand was to do laundry. And do laundry I did. As I write this, every article of clothing in the house is clean, folded (mostly) and put away (kind of).
My job here is done.
While completing the menial task of washing clothes, I had the television on as a distraction. As usual, since it's not football season, I dialed up Turner Classic Movies.
The Singing Nun, starring Debbie Reynolds and Ricardo Montalban, was on, so I casually watched it while waiting for clothes to dry. Aside from being a nauseating mellow drama, I knew enough about my 1960s music history to know it was based on a true story. Yes, there really was a singing nun.
In fact, we used to have a record of the Singing Nun's big hit, "Dominique," and my dad used to play it all the time on our old Coronado record player. He loved that song.
The movie portrays the Singing Nun as a reluctant star who eventually shuns public life and goes to Africa to live out her life's mission. It was filmed in 1966, and real the Singing Nun called the film "complete fiction."
As it turns out, the real story is far stranger, and much more tragic, than fiction.
Because of the way I am wired, I started wondering what actually happened to the Singing Nun. Was she still alive? Did she live out her days at a convent? Did she become a professional songwriter?
The Singing Nun's real name was Jeanine Deckers, and she was born in Belgium. In her twenties, she dropped out of art school and joined the Dominican Fichermont Convent in Waterloo, Belgium; she was given the name Sister Luc-Gabrielle. At the convent, she wrote and sang songs for her fellow sisters on her acoustic guitar.
She was encouraged by her superiors to record some of her songs, so she went into a Belgian studio in the autumn of 1961. One of the songs was the catchy tune with French lyrics about a 13th century saint. No one expected what happened next.
"Dominique" became an instant hit in Europe. Two years after it was recorded, it started getting airplay across the Atlantic (remember, this was pre-Beatles, and European artists were scoffed at by American disc jockeys... especially a Belgian nun singing French lyrics).
But there, alongside big hitters like Bobby Vinton, Little Stevie Wonder, Lesley Gore and Jan & Dean was Jeanine Deckers, also known as Sister Luc-Gabrielle, and her acoustic guitar which she affectionately called "Sister Adele."
"Dominique" became a massive hit in the U.S., holding the #1 position for three weeks in December 1963. She even made an appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show. It is certainly the most unusual, out-of-left-field #1 song in U.S. Billboard history.
It is also still the only #1 hit in America recorded by a Belgian artist.
But the success of the song sent Jeanine Deckers into a slow, spinning descent, both mentally and financially, which eventually became an out-of-control downward spiral.
She found it increasingly difficult to be a part of both the secular world and the lifestyle that was expected of her calling, and by 1967 she began publicly questioning some of the teachings of the Catholic church.
Just four years after she hit to top of the charts, she left the Order to pursue a full time music career, but Phillips Recording owned her stage name; she was not permitted to use it.
Lacking name recognition, she tried to continue as Luc-Gabrielle, but she alienated her mostly Catholic audience with songs such as "Glory be to God for the Golden Pill," an ode to the birth control pill.
It was probably not the best career move.
To make matters worse, at the height of her popularity, over $100,000 in song royalties were paid to the Fichermont Convent, money Deckers never saw because she took a vow of poverty as a nun.
So when the Belgian government came knocking several years later looking for $63,000 in back taxes, Deckers had nothing but lint in her purse.
When she asked her former convent for money and legal help, they shunned her, even though the money from Deckers' music made the convent financially comfortable.
A good lesson in Christian forgiveness, yes?
Around this same time, Deckers shocked her remaining fan base by coming out of the closet and confirming she was in a lesbian relationship with her long-time roommate, Annie Pecher.
Together, the couple were embattled in a long, legal battle with Belgian tax authorities and found themselves increasingly deeper in debt.
Deckers' own mental state began to deteriorate. In 1982, in a final attempt to raise some kind of cash flow, she recorded a disco version of "Dominique." It was unbelievably horrible. You truly must see it (and hear it) to believe it. Not surprisingly, it flopped.
Three years later, on March 29, 1985, Jeanine Deckers and Annie Pecher entered a suicide pact. Together, they overdosed on alcohol and barbiturates. They asked for a church funeral and to be buried together.
Surprisingly, their last wishes were granted.
The closing paragraph of their suicide note read:
A real human tragedy; that's the story of Jeanine Deckers.
So today, since I had the day completely to myself, the task at hand was to do laundry. And do laundry I did. As I write this, every article of clothing in the house is clean, folded (mostly) and put away (kind of).
My job here is done.
While completing the menial task of washing clothes, I had the television on as a distraction. As usual, since it's not football season, I dialed up Turner Classic Movies.
The Singing Nun, starring Debbie Reynolds and Ricardo Montalban, was on, so I casually watched it while waiting for clothes to dry. Aside from being a nauseating mellow drama, I knew enough about my 1960s music history to know it was based on a true story. Yes, there really was a singing nun.
In fact, we used to have a record of the Singing Nun's big hit, "Dominique," and my dad used to play it all the time on our old Coronado record player. He loved that song.
The movie portrays the Singing Nun as a reluctant star who eventually shuns public life and goes to Africa to live out her life's mission. It was filmed in 1966, and real the Singing Nun called the film "complete fiction."
As it turns out, the real story is far stranger, and much more tragic, than fiction.
Because of the way I am wired, I started wondering what actually happened to the Singing Nun. Was she still alive? Did she live out her days at a convent? Did she become a professional songwriter?
The Singing Nun's real name was Jeanine Deckers, and she was born in Belgium. In her twenties, she dropped out of art school and joined the Dominican Fichermont Convent in Waterloo, Belgium; she was given the name Sister Luc-Gabrielle. At the convent, she wrote and sang songs for her fellow sisters on her acoustic guitar.
She was encouraged by her superiors to record some of her songs, so she went into a Belgian studio in the autumn of 1961. One of the songs was the catchy tune with French lyrics about a 13th century saint. No one expected what happened next.
"Dominique" became an instant hit in Europe. Two years after it was recorded, it started getting airplay across the Atlantic (remember, this was pre-Beatles, and European artists were scoffed at by American disc jockeys... especially a Belgian nun singing French lyrics).
But there, alongside big hitters like Bobby Vinton, Little Stevie Wonder, Lesley Gore and Jan & Dean was Jeanine Deckers, also known as Sister Luc-Gabrielle, and her acoustic guitar which she affectionately called "Sister Adele."
"Dominique" became a massive hit in the U.S., holding the #1 position for three weeks in December 1963. She even made an appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show. It is certainly the most unusual, out-of-left-field #1 song in U.S. Billboard history.
It is also still the only #1 hit in America recorded by a Belgian artist.
But the success of the song sent Jeanine Deckers into a slow, spinning descent, both mentally and financially, which eventually became an out-of-control downward spiral.
She found it increasingly difficult to be a part of both the secular world and the lifestyle that was expected of her calling, and by 1967 she began publicly questioning some of the teachings of the Catholic church.
Just four years after she hit to top of the charts, she left the Order to pursue a full time music career, but Phillips Recording owned her stage name; she was not permitted to use it.
Lacking name recognition, she tried to continue as Luc-Gabrielle, but she alienated her mostly Catholic audience with songs such as "Glory be to God for the Golden Pill," an ode to the birth control pill.
It was probably not the best career move.
To make matters worse, at the height of her popularity, over $100,000 in song royalties were paid to the Fichermont Convent, money Deckers never saw because she took a vow of poverty as a nun.
So when the Belgian government came knocking several years later looking for $63,000 in back taxes, Deckers had nothing but lint in her purse.
When she asked her former convent for money and legal help, they shunned her, even though the money from Deckers' music made the convent financially comfortable.
A good lesson in Christian forgiveness, yes?
Around this same time, Deckers shocked her remaining fan base by coming out of the closet and confirming she was in a lesbian relationship with her long-time roommate, Annie Pecher.
Together, the couple were embattled in a long, legal battle with Belgian tax authorities and found themselves increasingly deeper in debt.
Deckers' own mental state began to deteriorate. In 1982, in a final attempt to raise some kind of cash flow, she recorded a disco version of "Dominique." It was unbelievably horrible. You truly must see it (and hear it) to believe it. Not surprisingly, it flopped.
Three years later, on March 29, 1985, Jeanine Deckers and Annie Pecher entered a suicide pact. Together, they overdosed on alcohol and barbiturates. They asked for a church funeral and to be buried together.
Surprisingly, their last wishes were granted.
The closing paragraph of their suicide note read:
"We go to eternity in peace. We trust God will forgive us. He saw us both suffer and he won't let us down. It would please Jeanine not to die for the world. She had a hard time on earth. She deserves to live in the minds of people."And so she does, indeed, live on in the minds of people. But at what price?
A real human tragedy; that's the story of Jeanine Deckers.
