Rest in peace my friend. Most people who are regulars here will never have heard of Chantelle Aimee Osman. She was an editor, an author, and one of my best friends in Phoenix after my husband died in 2010. I have so many stories I could tell about this amazing woman. She was only 45 when she died.
I met Chantelle at the Velma Teague Library in Glendale, AZ when I was Branch Manager, and she was a member of the Desert Sleuths Chapter of Sisters in Crime. But, it was in Santa Fe at Left Coast Crime that I really got to know her. We hung out with a small group every night in the bar. It’s what you do at mystery conferences. The last day of the conference, Chantelle sought me out to tell me she had seen a plaque in the gift shop that I had to buy. It’s of Catherine of Alexandria, patron saint of librarians and lawyers. It has been in all my homes since. I was a librarian. Chantelle was a lawyer.
Chantelle and I often combined our interests when we were both living in the Phoenix area. We’d meet at the Poisoned Pen, and sometimes have dinner or drinks with authors before or afterwards. Chantelle knew everyone. We attended plays together, and were in the sixth row of a Sherlock Holmes play when a body flew off the balcony. Of course, it hanged just in front of the two of us. We went to dinner before a lecture series that partnered with LA and Phoenix museums to bring in topics we didn’t always understand about city planning or Israel. It wasn’t always serious. We watched the 5 1/2 hour BBC production “Pride and Prejudice” with a friend at my place, and paused halfway through to have tea and scones with clotted cream.
I went to the Tucson Festival of Books in 2012, the first of two times I was there when Chantelle celebrated her birthday. Although she’d never say how old she was, she brought friends together at her favorite Tucson restaurant, Maynard’s, to celebrate with her.
After Bouchercon in Cleveland in 2012, Chantelle and I drove to my Mom’s house in Huron. Chantelle was so sick, catching something at Bouchercon. But, after a couple days, she was sick of being sick, and ready to get out and see a little of the area. We were heading to a lighthouse when I made Mom pull over. There were draft horses in the field. And, they were drawn to Chantelle just as so many of her friends were.
When I was getting ready to leave Arizona for a new job in Evansville, Indiana, Chantelle and I went to dinner at our favorite restaurant, the one where we had dinner before lectures. The chef brought out a special dessert because the staff read on Twitter that it would be my last time there before I moved.
And, Chantelle was the force behind my goodbye party at The Poisoned Pen. She worked with Barbara Peters, owner of the bookstore, to host a surprise party that brought together friends, co-workers, and Sisters in Crime. My library co-workers said I was the only person they knew that had three going away parties. But, this one was special. Chantelle created a poster I still have, and collected letters from authors including Louise Penny and Craig Johnson. Craig Johnson even wrote a poem for me! It was a wonderful celebration that brought my worlds together. (That’s Chantelle on the left, next to Barbara Peters.)
Chantelle and I didn’t spend a lot of time together at Left Coast Crime in Monterey in 2014. But, we did take the time to walk from our hotel to the aquarium and back so we had time to talk. It was as if it hadn’t been two years.
In March 2016, Chantelle was Fan Guest of Honor at Left Coast Crime in Phoenix. Normally, the guests of honor are interviewed. Instead of an interview, Chantelle acted as MC for “Chantelle Aimee Osman presents The Match Game.” I have multiple photos, but the lighting in that room wasn’t great. This one was as good as I had.
Steve W. Lauden, Janet Rudolph, Glen Erik Hamilton, Chantelle, Me, Hilary Davidson (We did kid about Hilary’s halo.)
I did have a chance to catch up with Chantelle in New York City after she moved there. My sister, Linda, and I walked all the way across Central Park to meet her for breakfast. And, then the three of us walked together, and, as in our lecture series, stumbled across a fascinating city story. A woman coming out of her house proceeded to tell us about the art on the railings in that block, and the stone carvers. She was so interesting that other people stopped to listen, too. Only when I was with Chantelle. Then, on a later trip, my friend Donna met her. The three of us had a three- hour dinner of laughter and conversation. That would have been the last time I saw Chantelle.
I spent two years from 2010 until I moved in 2012 spending a great deal of time with Chantelle Aimee Osman. I don’t know that I ever knew her. I never knew her age or what she did since she wasn’t practicing law. She spoke several languages, traveled the world, said she was teaching writing workshops. I said she was a spy. Once, I even met her at a museum wearing a trench coat, a fedora, and sunglasses. Our times together were filled with laughter, conversation, and joy.
As I write this, I’m sitting here drinking a Margarita. Chantelle would approve, although it should have been a lemon drop martini since she introduced me to them in our Phoenix dinners. When they say, “May her memory be a blessing”, you were always a blessing to me. Here’s to you, my friend. May your rest in peace.
