Anne Heche has died of a brain injury and severe burns after speeding and crashing her car into a home in the residential Mar Vista neighborhood last Friday, Aug 5. The building erupted in flames and Heche was dragged out of the vehicle and rushed to the Grossman Burn Center at West Hills Hospital in Los Angeles.
The 53-year-old, Emmy Award-winning actress is best known for her roles in 1990s films like Volcano, the Gus Van Sant remake of Psycho, Donnie Brasco and Six Days, Seven Nights.
Holly Baird, a spokesperson for Heche’s family, sent NPR a statement Friday afternoon saying: “While Anne is legally dead according to California law, her heart is still beating, and she has not been taken off life support.”
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Baird added an organ procurement company is working to see if the actress is a match for organ donation, and that determination could be made as early as Saturday or as late as next Tuesday.
Heche launched her career playing a pair of good and evil twins on the long-running daytime soap opera Another World, for which she earned a Daytime Emmy Award in 1991.
In the 2000s, Heche focused on making independent movies and TV series. She acted with Nicole Kidman and Cameron Bright in the drama Birth; with Jessica Lange and Christina Ricci in the film adaptation of Prozac Nation, Elizabeth Wurtzel’s bestselling book about depression; and in the comedy Cedar Rapids alongside John C. Reilly and Ed Helms. She also starred in the ABC drama series Men in Trees.
Heche made guest appearances on TV shows like Nip/Tuck and Ally McBeal and starred in a couple of Broadway productions, garnering a Tony Award nomination for her performance in the remount of the 1932 comedy Twentieth Century.
In 2020, Heche launched a weekly lifestyle podcast, Better Together, with friend and co-host Heather Duffy and appeared on Dancing with the Stars.
Heche became a lesbian icon as a result of her highly-visible relationship with comedian and TV host Ellen DeGeneres in the late 1990s.
Heche and DeGeneres were arguably the most famous openly gay couple in Hollywood at a time when being out was far less acceptable than it is today. Heche later claimed the romance took a toll on her career. “I was in a relationship with Ellen DeGeneres for three-and-a-half years and the stigma attached to that relationship was so bad that I was fired from my multimillion-dollar picture deal and I did not work in a studio picture for 10 years,” Heche said in an episode of Dancing with the Stars.
But the relationship paved the way for broader acceptance of single-sex partnerships.
“With so few role models and representations of lesbians in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Anne Heche’s relationship with Ellen DeGeneres contributed to her celebrity in a significant way and their relationship ultimately validated lesbian love for both straight and queer people,” said the Los Angeles-based New York Times columnist Trish Bendix.
Bendix said that while Heche was later in relationships with men — she married Coleman Laffoon in the early 2000s and they had a son together, and was more recently in a relationship with Canadian actor James Tupper with whom she also had a son — “her influence on lesbian and bisexual visibility can’t and shouldn’t be erased.”
In 2000, Fresh Air host Terry Gross interviewed Heche in advance of her directorial debut on the final episode of If These Walls Could Talk 2, a series of three HBO television films exploring the lives of lesbian couples starring DeGeneres and Sharon Stone. In the interview, Heche said she wished she had been more sensitive about other people’s coming out experiences when she and DeGeneres went public with their relationship.
“What I wish I would have known is more of the journey and the struggle of individuals in the gay community or couples in the gay community,” Heche said. “Because I would have couched my enthusiasm with an understanding that this isn’t everybody’s story.”
Heche was born in Aurora, Ohio in 1969, the youngest of five siblings. She was raised in a Christian fundamentalist household.
She had a challenging childhood. The family moved around a lot. She said she believed her father, Donald, was a closeted gay man; he died in 1983 of HIV.
“He just couldn’t seem to settle down into a normal job, which, of course, we found out later, and as I understand it now, was because he had another life,” Heche told Gross on Fresh Air. “He wanted to be with men.”
A few months after her father died, Heche’s brother Nathan was killed in a car crash at the age of 18.
In her 2001 Memoir Call Me Crazy, and in subsequent interviews, Heche said her father abused her sexually as a child, triggering mental health issues which the actress said she carried with her for decades as an adult.
In an interview with the actress for Larry King Live, host Larry King called Heche’s book, “one of the most honest, outspoken, extraordinary autobiographies ever written by anyone in show business.”
“I am left with a deep, wordless sadness,” wrote Heche’s son with Lafoon, Homer, in a statement shared with NPR via Baird. “Hopefully my mom is free from pain and beginning to explore what I like to imagine as her eternal freedom.”
Neighbors Installed a Camera Aimed at My Garden – I Taught Them a Savage Lesson Without Going to Court
When my new neighbors installed a camera aimed at my backyard, I knew I had to take action. What started as a simple plan to teach them a lesson about privacy spiraled into a wild performance that caught the attention of the local police — with consequences I never could have predicted.
I never thought I’d become an amateur actor just to teach my nosy neighbors a lesson, but life has a way of surprising you.
A woman looks thoughtfully out of a window | Source: Pexels
It all started when Carla and Frank moved in next door. They seemed nice enough at first, if a bit… off.
“Welcome to the neighborhood,” I said, offering them a basket of tomatoes from my garden. “I’m Zoe.”
Carla’s eyes darted around nervously. “Thank you. We’re very… security-conscious. You understand, right?”
I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. Little did I know what that would mean for me.
A woman in gardening get-up posing on the front porch of a home | Source: Pexels
***
A week later, I returned from visiting my mom to find something shocking in my backyard. As I lounged in my swimsuit, tending to my beloved tomatoes, I noticed a small black object under the eaves of their house.
“Is that a camera?” I muttered, squinting at it. My blood ran cold as I realized it was pointed directly at my yard.
I marched over to their house, still in my swimsuit, and pounded on the door. Frank answered, looking annoyed.
“Why is there a camera pointed at my yard?” I demanded.
A woman in swimsuit walking through a suburban garden | Source: Pexels
“That’s ridiculous,” I sputtered. “You’re invading my privacy!”
Carla appeared behind him. “We have a right to protect our property,” she said coldly.
I left, fuming. I could have taken them to court, but who has the time or money for that? No, I needed a different approach.
That’s when I called my friends.
“Samantha, I need your help,” I said. “How do you feel about a little… performance art?”
A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney
She laughed. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”
I outlined my plan, and soon we had a whole crew on board. Miguel, our resident special effects guru, and Harriet, who never met a costume she didn’t like.
As we planned, I wondered if I was going too far. “Guys, are we sure about this?” I asked during our final meeting.
Samantha put her hand on my shoulder. “Zoe, they’ve been spying on you for weeks. They need to learn a lesson.”
A woman placing her hand on the shoulder of another in support | Source: Midjourney
Miguel nodded. “Plus, it’ll be fun! When was the last time we did something this crazy?”
Harriet grinned. “I’ve already started on the costumes. You can’t back out now!”
Their enthusiasm was contagious, and I felt my doubts melting away. “Alright, let’s do this.”
The next Saturday, we gathered in my backyard, decked out in the most ridiculous outfits imaginable. I wore a neon green wig and a tutu over a scuba suit.
“Ready for the garden party of the century?” I grinned.
Samantha adjusted her alien mask. “Let’s give those creeps a show they’ll never forget.”
Outrageously-dressed people posing outside a house | Source: Pexels
We started with normal party activities — if you can call anything normal when you’re dressed like escapees from a circus. We danced, played games, and made sure to stay in view of the camera.
“Hey, Zoe!” Miguel called out, his pirate hat askew. “How’s your mom doing?”
I smiled, remembering my recent visit. “She’s good. Still trying to set me up with her friend’s son.”
Harriet laughed, her Red Riding Hood cape swishing. “Classic mom move. Did you tell her about the camera situation?”
A close-up of a woman with a red hood and a bloody wound on her face | Source: Pexels
I shook my head. “Nah, didn’t want to worry her. She’d probably march over here herself and give them a piece of her mind.”
“Honestly,” Samantha chimed in, “that might have been entertaining to watch.”
We all laughed, imagining my feisty mom confronting Carla and Frank. But then it was time for the main event.
“Oh no!” I shrieked, pointing at Samantha. “She’s been stabbed!”
Miguel swiftly brandished a rubber knife covered in ketchup. “Arrr, she had it coming!”
A man in fancy-dress, holding a fake knife | Source: Midjourney
Samantha collapsed dramatically, ketchup “blood” pooling around her. We all started arguing and running around in panic.
“Should we call the police?” Harriet yelled, cape flapping as she hopped around.
“No, we have to hide the body!” I shouted back.
Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. The neighbor’s curtain twitched. Had someone seen us? The eerie silence that followed was broken only by our ragged breathing.
A view of a house window from a distance | Source: Pexels
We froze, eyes darting from one to another. The weight of our imaginary crime felt all too real in that moment. A dog barked in the distance, making us all jump.
Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity as we waited, unsure of what would happen next.
Miguel’s hand trembled as he lowered the ketchup-stained knife. Samantha, still sprawled on the ground, barely dared to breathe. The air grew thick with tension, pressing down on us like a physical force.
A hand holding a “bloody” knife | Source: Midjourney
I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone dry. My mind raced, conjuring up ridiculous scenarios of how we’d explain this scene to anyone who might have witnessed it. Would they believe it was just a game? Or would our silly prank spiral into something far more serious?
A car door slammed somewhere down the street. We all flinched in unison, our nerves stretched to the breaking point. The sound of footsteps seemed to echo in the stillness, growing louder with each passing moment. Had someone called the authorities?
People dressed in scary costumes performing in a backyard | Source: Midjourney
Just then, we heard sirens in the distance. “Showtime,” I whispered. “Everyone inside, quick!”
We dragged Samantha in, cleaned up the ketchup, and changed into normal clothes in record time. By the time the police knocked on my door, we were sitting around the dining table, looking perfectly innocent.
A group of friends gathering for a meal | Source: Pexels
“Is everything alright here?” the officer asked, looking confused.
I put on my best concerned-citizen face. “Of course, officer. Is something wrong?”
She explained that they received a report of a violent crime at this address. I feigned shock, then allowed “realization” to dawn on my face.
“Oh! We were just doing some improv acting in the backyard,” I said. “It must have looked pretty realistic, huh?”
The officer frowned. “How did anyone see into your backyard? Those fences are pretty high.”
A police officer in front of a home | Source: Pexels
I sighed dramatically. “Well, officer, that’s the real problem here. My neighbors have a camera pointed at my yard. They’ve been recording me without my consent.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? I think we need to have a chat with your neighbors.”
We watched from my window as the police went next door. Carla and Frank looked panicked as they were questioned.
An hour later, the officer returned. “Ma’am, I’m afraid your neighbors have been engaging in some illegal surveillance. We’ve confiscated their equipment and they’ll be facing charges. Would you be willing to make a statement?”
A policewoman standing outside a home’s front door | Source: Midjourney
I tried to look surprised. “That’s terrible! I had no idea it was so extensive. But, of course, I’ll make a statement, and testify in court if it comes to that.”
After the police left, my friends and I celebrated our victory.
“I can’t believe it worked!” Samantha laughed.
Miguel raised his glass. “To Zoe, master of revenge!”
I grinned, but something was nagging at me. “Do you think we went too far?”
Harriet shook her head. “They invaded your privacy. They got what they deserved.”
A woman in a Halloween-like make-up in a living room | Source: Midjourney
***
The next day, I was back in my garden, enjoying the sunshine without worrying about prying eyes. As I tended to my tomatoes, I saw Carla and Frank leaving their house, suitcases in hand.
Part of me felt guilty, but then I remembered all those recordings they had of me. No, they’d made their choice. I just helped them face the consequences.
As I picked a ripe tomato, I smiled to myself. Sometimes, the best way to deal with nosy neighbors isn’t through the courts — it’s through a little creative problem-solving.
A batch of washed garden tomatoes | Source: Pexels
And hey, if nothing else, at least I now know I have a future in community theater if gardening doesn’t work out.
A week later, I was having coffee with Samantha when she asked, “So, any news about Carla and Frank?”
I shook my head. “Not really. I saw them leave, and I haven’t heard from the cops yet. Maybe they decided not to press charges after all. Can’t say I miss them, though.”
Samantha smirked. “I bet they’d think twice before setting up cameras now.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, then paused. “You know, part of me wonders if we should feel bad. We did kinda turn their lives upside down.”
A woman sitting outdoors and looking way | Source: Midjourney
Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Zoe, they were the ones breaking the law. All we did was expose them.”
I nodded, but the guilt lingered. “I know, I know. It’s just… I keep thinking about how scared they looked when the police showed up.”
“Hey,” Samantha said, leaning forward, “remember how violated you felt when you saw that camera? How angry you were? They did that to you for weeks.”
A blonde woman seated outdoors smiling | Source: Midjourney
I sighed. “You’re right. I guess I’m just not used to being the ‘bad guy’.”
She laughed. “Trust me, you’re not the bad guy here. You’re the hero who stood up for herself.”
Later that day, as I watered my tomatoes, I saw a moving truck pull up to Carla and Frank’s house. A young couple got out, looking excited.
I watched as they unloaded boxes, chatting and laughing. Part of me wanted to go over and introduce myself, maybe warn them about the previous owners. But another part of me just wanted to move on.
A couple unloaded boxes from a car | Source: Pexels
As I turned back to my garden, I made a decision. I’d give these new neighbors a chance — no preconceptions, no suspicions. But I’d also keep my eyes open. After all, you never know when you might need to throw another garden party.
What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about a woman whose new neighbor was secretly monitoring her until she faced him one day on a lonely road.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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