Status: Semi-active. Update when I can...
Send Me Your Amnesty
Part Two: 1994 (Chapter 1)
Letter To Billie Joe from Felicity---September 1994
Dear Billie Joe Armstrong,
I don’t know where to begin, so I guess I’ll just start at the beginning.
Do you remember a while ago, your band called Sweet Children were playing at Gilman Street and after your set you called a young girl with long black hair in a Ramones T-shirt, ripped jeans, and Chucks up to the stage, then brought her backstage for a drink? Well I was that girl and I’m writing to you now because I bear news for you.
If you remember any part from that night you should know that I was extremely vulnerable.
I was angry, depressed, and had just recently left my boyfriend. That love we made was
meaningless and I only did it because I was feeling sorry for myself and at that moment of weakness I had no self-respect.
But apparently that night did mean something because when I arrived back home—as in where I grew up, back in the Midwest—I found out some life-changing news.
I was pregnant.
Congratulations. You’re a father to a healthy baby girl. She was born on August 30, 1994. DNA tests were done and it has been confirmed that she is yours. Honestly, I’ve only had sex with one other guy besides you, and it’s not his… so… lucky you? I had some people look up your name and address so I could write you this letter. I included a copy of the DNA test—I’m not fibbing you, this is real shit.
NOW LISTEN TO MY WORDS VERY, VERY CLOSELY.
I DO NOT want you to be in any part of my new life with my daughter.
I realize now that your music career is taking off—congratulations on “Dookie” by the way, I saw it hit number two on the Billboard, and that you’re now called “Green Day”—but that’s not my point. My point is that I have moved out of California into a quiet Midwest home to escape all of that drama and pressure. I want to live a life with absolutely NO press in my life and that’s how I want to raise my daughter—just a normal girl in a small Midwest town—no paparazzi or anything to bother us.
PLEASE LISTEN TO MY WORDS I DO NOT WANT THIS LEAKED TO ANY PRESS WHAT. SO. EVER.
This is why I have not disclosed her name to you. I am serious about keeping this a secret. Please keep this between us. (I cannot stress that enough. KEEP QUIET!)I have already done the legal documents; in fact, I sent you a modified restraining order. You are not allowed to have any contact with her until she is 18 years old.
I am not writing you in order to get sympathy or support. Quite the opposite in my opinion. I am solely writing you to let you know that something did happen that late December night and it is your right to know that you do have a daughter. I have my family for support and I’m quite content with the situation.
I realize that that night was a moment of weakness and I was out of my character. I graduated from Stanford majoring in Human Biology (minoring in Mathematics)—but when I got out of college and I was living on my own in Oakland, I met up with a boy and it ended up in a horrible relationship and that’s what got me so angry and depressed. I just had to get out. I went down to the bar and to Gilman’s for one last hoorah and I guess I got more than I came for considering what happened.
But I don’t regret a single thing. This was my entire fault. It had nothing to do with you. Please, don’t feel guilty or obligated to help with anything. I am quite capable of handling my own life. My daughter is safe, healthy, and beautiful. I’m taking a few online courses and I’ve picked up a part-time nursing job at the local hospital. So please don’t feel the need to assist me in any way. I’ve got it all under control.
My story is over and I sure hope you respect my wishes. If you wish to communicate with me, please do it as discretely as possible. As in don’t write so often and don’t call and like I said, keep it quiet!!! If you wish to hear from your daughter you’ll have to wait 18 years. I am the only string connecting you to your daughter until that time period is up, so anything you wish to say will have to go through me and I do not guarantee an answer back from her because I probably won’t tell her unless she asks.
I don’t mean to sound firm and it’s certainly not my intention to scare you off. I’m just very concerned about the safety of my daughter. It would be nice to hear from you once in a while and it would be interesting to meet you with you in 18 years—to introduce you to your daughter. So please don’t give up hope—I just want our (myself and my daughter) lives to be protected from bad publicity. This is a delicate situation.
Thank you for understanding.
Sincerely,
Felicity Collins
P.S. I enclosed the address I want you to send all letters to and a picture of myself and my daughter at the hospital.
* * * * *
Letter To Felicity from Billie Joe---December 1994
Dear Felicity Collins,
When I got you letter in the mail and I saw it came from Indiana, I thought “what idiotic fan got ahold of my personal home address?” Sorry it took so long to reply to you, I’m on tour and I got to come home for a few weeks in November and there was your letter, unopened on the counter. I’m writing to your from the tour bus. When I read your letter all the way through for the first time, I about got sick. I’m serious. I ran to the bathroom and almost puked.
Are you fucking serious? I have a daughter?! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. God dammit! Seriously?! Fuck.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I’m sorry you can probably tell my first impressions. I was fucking upset. But I’ve had some time to think about this whole situation. And my mind is clear enough to write a civil letter to you.
Believe it or not I do remember you and that night. I feel it must have been partly my fault—I was young and stupid and I had had a few drinks as well. It’s not all your fault. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
And don’t worry at all. I will keep this off the radar. I have my own life now and I do not want to complicate things.
So this daughter that I have now… ……. Wow…. Um….. OK…… So I don’t even have the privilege of knowing her name? You send me a picture but I can’t know her name?
I guess I understand, but now that you know I’m not going to let this secret out of my reach, can I know her name, please?
I understand your situation and I understand you want you distance, but please allow me to assist you financially. Whether you accept it or not, she is half mine. I won’t send anything until I hear back from you. But I am willing to help—money is not an issue on my part. (P.S. Thanks, “Dookie” did hit big.)
I guess since you have spilled your story to me, I guess it’s only fair that I tell you mine.
Honestly, after you left me that morning, you were out of my memory within two days. Your letter sparked my memory because it was the night of amazing love-making—the best I’ve ever had.
So I’ve got my own family now too—I met this girl a long while back and we were off and on and long distance for about two years (because she was dating someone else) and eventually I asked her to move out here. We had been friends for a long time and after you left I went back to her and we began seriously dating for the first time. I asked for her hand in marriage this past July and the day after our wedding she found out she was pregnant. So we’re expecting too. I haven’t told her about this new information, and honestly, I don’t know if I’m going to, or if I should or if I do, I sure as hell don’t know how. I mean what if I do tell her and she leaves me? That means I’ll have lost children instead of one, and I really love my wife—I can’t do that to her. You’re secret is safe with me.
So you’ve got your life and I’ve got mine. I understand all the legal stuff and I will keep my distance—but you sure as hell guarantee on August 30, 2012, I will write a letter to our daughter telling her that I am her father and that I would like to meet her. I will not forget about this secret life. I will write often, but not too often that she might suspect something.
So the thing is I would like a definite answer on a few things—can I know her name? Can I please help you financially? And would it be alright to tell my wife if I can muster up enough man to tell her?
Thanks for letting me know,
Billie Joe Armstrong
P.S. We are touring right now (for “Dookie”) and we have a few shows out in the Midwest. If you are able to come or if you just want to show up anonymously, I promise to keep my distance if I see you. If you decide you want to come out and see us, Green Day, shoot me a letter, I can hook you up with tickets.
Dear Billie Joe Armstrong,
I don’t know where to begin, so I guess I’ll just start at the beginning.
Do you remember a while ago, your band called Sweet Children were playing at Gilman Street and after your set you called a young girl with long black hair in a Ramones T-shirt, ripped jeans, and Chucks up to the stage, then brought her backstage for a drink? Well I was that girl and I’m writing to you now because I bear news for you.
If you remember any part from that night you should know that I was extremely vulnerable.
I was angry, depressed, and had just recently left my boyfriend. That love we made was
meaningless and I only did it because I was feeling sorry for myself and at that moment of weakness I had no self-respect.
But apparently that night did mean something because when I arrived back home—as in where I grew up, back in the Midwest—I found out some life-changing news.
I was pregnant.
Congratulations. You’re a father to a healthy baby girl. She was born on August 30, 1994. DNA tests were done and it has been confirmed that she is yours. Honestly, I’ve only had sex with one other guy besides you, and it’s not his… so… lucky you? I had some people look up your name and address so I could write you this letter. I included a copy of the DNA test—I’m not fibbing you, this is real shit.
NOW LISTEN TO MY WORDS VERY, VERY CLOSELY.
I DO NOT want you to be in any part of my new life with my daughter.
I realize now that your music career is taking off—congratulations on “Dookie” by the way, I saw it hit number two on the Billboard, and that you’re now called “Green Day”—but that’s not my point. My point is that I have moved out of California into a quiet Midwest home to escape all of that drama and pressure. I want to live a life with absolutely NO press in my life and that’s how I want to raise my daughter—just a normal girl in a small Midwest town—no paparazzi or anything to bother us.
PLEASE LISTEN TO MY WORDS I DO NOT WANT THIS LEAKED TO ANY PRESS WHAT. SO. EVER.
This is why I have not disclosed her name to you. I am serious about keeping this a secret. Please keep this between us. (I cannot stress that enough. KEEP QUIET!)I have already done the legal documents; in fact, I sent you a modified restraining order. You are not allowed to have any contact with her until she is 18 years old.
I am not writing you in order to get sympathy or support. Quite the opposite in my opinion. I am solely writing you to let you know that something did happen that late December night and it is your right to know that you do have a daughter. I have my family for support and I’m quite content with the situation.
I realize that that night was a moment of weakness and I was out of my character. I graduated from Stanford majoring in Human Biology (minoring in Mathematics)—but when I got out of college and I was living on my own in Oakland, I met up with a boy and it ended up in a horrible relationship and that’s what got me so angry and depressed. I just had to get out. I went down to the bar and to Gilman’s for one last hoorah and I guess I got more than I came for considering what happened.
But I don’t regret a single thing. This was my entire fault. It had nothing to do with you. Please, don’t feel guilty or obligated to help with anything. I am quite capable of handling my own life. My daughter is safe, healthy, and beautiful. I’m taking a few online courses and I’ve picked up a part-time nursing job at the local hospital. So please don’t feel the need to assist me in any way. I’ve got it all under control.
My story is over and I sure hope you respect my wishes. If you wish to communicate with me, please do it as discretely as possible. As in don’t write so often and don’t call and like I said, keep it quiet!!! If you wish to hear from your daughter you’ll have to wait 18 years. I am the only string connecting you to your daughter until that time period is up, so anything you wish to say will have to go through me and I do not guarantee an answer back from her because I probably won’t tell her unless she asks.
I don’t mean to sound firm and it’s certainly not my intention to scare you off. I’m just very concerned about the safety of my daughter. It would be nice to hear from you once in a while and it would be interesting to meet you with you in 18 years—to introduce you to your daughter. So please don’t give up hope—I just want our (myself and my daughter) lives to be protected from bad publicity. This is a delicate situation.
Thank you for understanding.
Sincerely,
Felicity Collins
P.S. I enclosed the address I want you to send all letters to and a picture of myself and my daughter at the hospital.
* * * * *
Letter To Felicity from Billie Joe---December 1994
Dear Felicity Collins,
When I got you letter in the mail and I saw it came from Indiana, I thought “what idiotic fan got ahold of my personal home address?” Sorry it took so long to reply to you, I’m on tour and I got to come home for a few weeks in November and there was your letter, unopened on the counter. I’m writing to your from the tour bus. When I read your letter all the way through for the first time, I about got sick. I’m serious. I ran to the bathroom and almost puked.
Are you fucking serious? I have a daughter?! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. God dammit! Seriously?! Fuck.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I’m sorry you can probably tell my first impressions. I was fucking upset. But I’ve had some time to think about this whole situation. And my mind is clear enough to write a civil letter to you.
Believe it or not I do remember you and that night. I feel it must have been partly my fault—I was young and stupid and I had had a few drinks as well. It’s not all your fault. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
And don’t worry at all. I will keep this off the radar. I have my own life now and I do not want to complicate things.
So this daughter that I have now… ……. Wow…. Um….. OK…… So I don’t even have the privilege of knowing her name? You send me a picture but I can’t know her name?
I guess I understand, but now that you know I’m not going to let this secret out of my reach, can I know her name, please?
I understand your situation and I understand you want you distance, but please allow me to assist you financially. Whether you accept it or not, she is half mine. I won’t send anything until I hear back from you. But I am willing to help—money is not an issue on my part. (P.S. Thanks, “Dookie” did hit big.)
I guess since you have spilled your story to me, I guess it’s only fair that I tell you mine.
Honestly, after you left me that morning, you were out of my memory within two days. Your letter sparked my memory because it was the night of amazing love-making—the best I’ve ever had.
So I’ve got my own family now too—I met this girl a long while back and we were off and on and long distance for about two years (because she was dating someone else) and eventually I asked her to move out here. We had been friends for a long time and after you left I went back to her and we began seriously dating for the first time. I asked for her hand in marriage this past July and the day after our wedding she found out she was pregnant. So we’re expecting too. I haven’t told her about this new information, and honestly, I don’t know if I’m going to, or if I should or if I do, I sure as hell don’t know how. I mean what if I do tell her and she leaves me? That means I’ll have lost children instead of one, and I really love my wife—I can’t do that to her. You’re secret is safe with me.
So you’ve got your life and I’ve got mine. I understand all the legal stuff and I will keep my distance—but you sure as hell guarantee on August 30, 2012, I will write a letter to our daughter telling her that I am her father and that I would like to meet her. I will not forget about this secret life. I will write often, but not too often that she might suspect something.
So the thing is I would like a definite answer on a few things—can I know her name? Can I please help you financially? And would it be alright to tell my wife if I can muster up enough man to tell her?
Thanks for letting me know,
Billie Joe Armstrong
P.S. We are touring right now (for “Dookie”) and we have a few shows out in the Midwest. If you are able to come or if you just want to show up anonymously, I promise to keep my distance if I see you. If you decide you want to come out and see us, Green Day, shoot me a letter, I can hook you up with tickets.