Lincoln Clarkes Photographs: Hastings Laundry, 35 East Hastings St. Vancouver, April 19, 1998

Hastings Laundry, 35 East Hastings St. Vancouver, April 19, 1998

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July 5th, 2009 by Lincoln Clarkes

Filed under: Heroines

12 Comments

Michelle

Her name was Nicole Cope, thats my mom. She was 19 there.. She died two years ago, drug overdose. For anyone who wonders..

Matthew

I care.
I’m so sorry and I really appreciate you sharing that about your mother.
I know that some of these women are no longer with us but I keep habitually reading any comments that pop up for hopeful success stories.
Peace from Portland Or.

Linda

Wow Michelle. She was beautiful. If you look anything like her, you are lucky. That is sad how she died. I pray that you have a healthier happier life. God rest her soul.

Kim

Thank you for sharing Michelle. I wondered and appreciate you sharing. So sorry for your loss.

Jeanette

Such a beautiful young girl so sad that drugs take people who have so much in front of them

Dian

She looks beautiful. Thankyou for sharing. I can only imagine what you must have gone/are going through.

yuri

meravigliosa, mirabolante, neppure Guido Guidi riuscirebbe a catturare un simile attimo, complimenti per il progetto

rick

Hi Michelle: I was very sad to hear about your mother. She loved you always and would talk about you when she would come into the office. Hope you’re doing fine.

How is Linda? Is she ok? I would like to connect with her to see how she is. It must have been very hard for her too.

Rick ssure39 at Hotmail dot com

Chloe

Michelle, I’m so sorry for your loss. All these images are really touching to me… It’s crazy how intense Hastings is… I hope the best for you and stay strong!

Marlo

Although I am not in any of these photos, I just wanted to let the lady looking for success stories know that I made it out. Many of these women were my friends, and we were bound by our addictions and the horrendous circumstances we struggled to overcome. Michelle, I’m so sorry your mom lost the fight. I look at my daughter everyday and wonder how I ever made it back to her. If our survival had been dependent on the tremendous love we felt for our children, we would have all made it out alive.

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