A Life in Pictures

These are the photo posters that we put together for Ingrid's funeral in Boise. Please make sure to click on each poster in order to see it at a viewable size.

The Only Good Gift

Ingrid and I gave each other more than a few presents over the years. But once we grew up, we developed a winter holiday ritual.

Every year, she'd send me a CD of music she was sure I'd never listen to otherwise, and I got to see how her taste in music grew and changed over tme. Music was the measure of her life. And every year, I'd send her some sort of interesting and unusual calendar, because she was interesting and unusual, and because I wanted to give her time.

Time was important to us--we talked often about the many years we had loved each other, the ways our friendship had matured and changed, and what we would be like as old women.

In the end, it turns out, we gave each other the most important thing we had to give. We gave each other time.

I consider it an honor to have been part of the progression of Ingrid's life--to have known her as a girl and to see the woman she became.

I miss them both.

--Caren Crockett

Give It a Squeeze

I met Ingrid in the early 1990's in San Francisco. At first we were simply co-workers, but it was inevitable that we would become friends. How could you not with her? She was a fun-loving, mid-western-slang-slingin', creative, and talented gal.

I also had the honor of doing a few video projects with her and got to witness just how professional and meticulous she was about her own work as well. I admired that in her. But the best part about her was the sayings that would periodically come flying out of her mouth. Our friend Mark just reminded me the other day how she always said, "You know what really chaps my ass?" I also remember while we were filming "Mister Sisters" there was some line about tube socks in the script. Lisa and I talked her into "hipper" dialogue, but we laughed our asses off and as a compromise she shot the tube socks so at least they would make an appearance in the movie.

Her accordian was another great thing about her. She loved playing that thing, and it showed. While she and my partner Christina were doing their act Cabaret Tormento, she made a T-shirt with a great photo of them that says, "Strap one on and give it a squeeze." Well said, Ingrid! (I continue to proudly wear the shirt to this day.)

I think what I will remember most about her is her infectious laugh and her walk. She kind of bopped and bounced, especially when she was in a hurry (usually!).

I'm still in shock. I miss her dearly, but I know that I am a better person from having known her.

Peace out, Ingrid.

your pal, sal

--Sally Carter

Everybody Who Knew Her Is Richer

I'm sitting here bawling even though I only met Ingrid a few times. Such tears are for life wasted, love lost, dreams exploded, hopes up in smoke and plans that vanish into thin air - a part of the life cycle that really transcends our ability to understand.

I will continue to send warm and loving thoughts to you all…The cruelty of not having the time to say all of your goodbyes has to be tempered with the fact that she knew how loved she was by each and every one of you, her support through this abrupt and shocking ordeal.

You're all in my thoughts and prayers. Give yourselves and each other hugs for me, as you hold and comfort each other.

…

There's really nothing that can be said to make this ordeal less painful. It's such an unthinkable waste to lose good people in the prime of their lives, to say nothing of so suddenly! I believe the LGBT community has learned a lot and taught a lot to the rest of the world about care-giving and sharing responsibility, etc., during these events that take young people away prematurely from such dreaded diseases.

It may sound trite at this point, when you're feeling so raw, angry, disappointed and bereft, but the memory of Ingrid, her passions and causes will indeed live on in each of you, as well as the tons of friends who grew to care about her throughout her all-too-brief lifetime. Everybody who knew her is richer for that; everybody who cared about her is better prepared to take on life's challenges because of what they learned from her.

I've been in similar shoes to yours and know enough to know that peace will only come in its own time, probably on a different schedule for every single person in her various concentric rings of relationships. As you know, there's no “formula” or “cookbook” available for making it to the other side of the pain... Each will have to be patient with and supportive of the others whose schedules for recovery are different from their own. Some may be able to make it through the day without weeping after a few days or a few weeks - others will take a lifetime - and nobody's doing it "right"... Everybody's dealing with their own fragile-broken relationship system, various demons, family histories, genetic predisposition, and myriad other of their own realities, in addition to their own attempt to make sense of this senseless situation...

Be gentle with yourselves and each other; no time to take any perceived or real "slight" personally; everybody's feeling too wounded to be held terribly accountable for some inappropriate "this", unreasonable "that", or thoughtless "the other thing"... This is a time to celebrate the tragically short life of a remarkable woman, not a time for "shoulda", "if only" or recriminations, internalized or externalized... Hugs-n-kisses... Wish I could be closer to do the hugging myself...! I'll be thinking of you as you make your way through this nightmare - and you will...

--John David Dupree, Denise’s uncle (excerpts from e-mails to Denise, with permission)

We Are Family

At Kuna Caves with her Mom and Dad in 1981. See that black hole just beside Ingrid, with the rickety-looking ladder? That's the entrance to the Kuna Caves. After Ingrid, the caves are the most famous thing about Kuna.

With Brett and Amy, stylin' in her short shorts and rainbow suspenders.

(Courtesy of Amy Rubin).

What Babies We Were

Ingrid is about 19 in this photo, so that makes me about 17. This was taken at my house outside Kuna, just before we left for Boise so I could shoot photos of Ingrid for some reason that I can no longer recall. This photo proves three things: 1. we were, in fact, young once; 2. old photos are very poor quality; and 3. Ingrid used to wear Easter-yellow pants.

Fatale Attraction

Even if you don’t know Ingrid’s name, you probably heard of Fun with a Sausage or L’Ingenue, both videos some of the first ones distributed by Fatale Media. They played at the film festivals back in the early 1980s.

“People loved them,” says Fatale Media President Nan Kinney. “Lesbians were taking themselves so seriously in those days, it was grim. Then along came Ingrid and she made them laugh at themselves. Her sense of humor was a delight.”

We mourn the passing of a witty, intelligent woman who wasn’t afraid to break the rules.

--From "In Memoriam", posted on the Fatale Media web site (with permission)

An Indefatigable Spirit

I had known Ingy from her assistant editor days at Western, and, most recently, saw her everyday at Lieberman. I knew I could count on a great smile, an indefatigable spirit, and a great laugh to sing harmony with my own. I feel deeply deeply sad and can’t begin to imagine what you each must be feeling. I know Ingy is still laughing somewhere and wishing for those of us she left on this plane of reality, speedy healing with the knowledge that she is now wiser, peaceful and her same joyous self....and undoubtedly, gathering an accordion angel band.

--Iliani Matisse

Make Your Pixels Polka

I designed Ingrid's original business cards many years ago, for that she was always so, so grateful and complimentary, returning the favor by editing my demo reel. Ingrid was the type of person to return a favor ten fold. It was a pleasure to know and work with Ingrid. I will miss the smile and the laughter.

--Lisa Berghout

(Photos courtesy of Lisa Berghout)

The World Is a Little Bit Quieter

I'm just so sad over such a wonderful person being taken away from us. And I'm even sadder because I thought there would be time to see her. But she was gone so soon!

I do have some funny stories about her though. Gosh she was a hoot! Way back in the '80s when she first did Fun with a Sausage and L'Ingenue we were all hanging out. I get a call one day from Ingrid...."Can you wear a size 10 set of leathers?" "Uh, sure," I say.

The next thing I know, we're all over at Maude's shooting video, Renata is banging on the jukebox and I'm dancing with Ingrid. We ended the evening by shooting (and reshooting) a very funny scene in the alleyway next to 27 Ord. Ingrid with gum behind her ear, wearing a sweatshirt with a big cow on it, and me standing in black stilettos on some bricks. I have never laughed so hard in my life.

Ingrid made me laugh. She was always goofy and funny and adorable. I will miss her and the world is a little bit quieter without her laughter. Safe journey, Ingie.

--Tesia Blackburn

Insanely Cute (And the Cat's Not Bad Either...)

With Iggy-Bob, engaged in their favorite pastime: Catnapping on the couch!

(Courtesy of Nicole Grimmer).

The Woman Who Invented Cat-Velcro

Couch-surfing at "the Ranch" on December 25th. Ingrid said that Bubba was doing a catscan on her and she was hoping it would help. She always loved riding the couch with her "Heater-Cat" for hours.

(Courtesy of Nicole Grimmer).

Holy Cow, She Could Work a Cat Into Anything

Ingrid's 2007 Birthday Ride in the Oakland hills, wearing the kitty shirt her mother sent her. And after that much hill climbing, any self-respecting drink abstainer does what? Why, a Cake-a-polooza, of course!

(Courtesy of Denise Dupree).

Pretty, and Proud, in Pink

The year is 2007, Pink Saturday and Pride. We danced our booties off Saturday evening and walked until dusk the next day. Who else do you know that would buy a PINK BOA from a street vendor because her neck was cold and not only get away with it, but look like a fashion statement?? Ahhhh Ingie, who's going to improve my fashion sense? Who's going to help me get "my party pants on" to go dancing? Will I ever look hip again??

--Denise Dupree

The City of Ingrid-ly Love

The truest child of San Francisco, the city that loved and admired her, celebrating the Fourth of July on Golden Gate Bridge with Denise and Nicole.

(Courtesy of Denise Dupree).

Pride, No Prejudice

The Whole Famn Damily (or most of them, anyway), at Gay Pride 2007. Ingrid was looking sharp, as usual.

(Courtesy of Denise Dupree).

Bovine Biker Chick

Ingrid and Nicole, pursuing Ingrid's favorite outdoor pastime: mountian biking with cows! Ingrid wasn't just smart and funny, she was fit as well.

(Courtesy of Denise Dupree).

Halloween 2007 and 2006

Halloween 2007 at Lieberman/PhiloTV: Ingrid The Cool Cat, with Todd, Rose, Jacob, and Cara.

Halloween 2006 at Lieberman/PhiloTV: The Kuna Cow, with Dallas and Petra.

(Courtesy of Dallas Hyatt).

The Newest Member of the Heavenly Band

The heavenly newspaper classified ad read: "accordionist needed. Must be able to improvise ­ "Lady of Spain" riffs a necessity." Several days ago the band found its newest member.

After the first practice session, the current members of the group were baffled. "I don't recall those words in that song," said one member, referring to their rendition of "Lady of Spain." "I never thought the song had any sexual connotations. But, oh well, let's try another tune."

As the last notes ended to the next song, another member spoke. "OK, since when did butch replace fat in that song?"

"I don't know," responded the drummer. "But who's going to tell her those aren't the correct words?"

And word soon spread that the polka band was kinda different. You really had to hear them, and that the new accordionist was terrific.

I'll miss you, Ingi. And don't let your fellow band members tell you otherwise. It's always been "Lezzie of Spain" and "She's Too Butch For Me."

--Jan Herdlick

Ah, Shucks... Go On

I can't even begin to grasp this loss. There is comfort in having contact with those who loved Ingrid. She was rich in talent, rich in laughter, rich in goodness. And I can hear her say, "Ah shucks...go on." And I will, Ingrid.

I love you Ingrid. You were a light in my life.

Teach those angels how to polka to the accordion. I am certain you are soaring.

Yer pal,
Margo

--Margo Dean

Pheminist Phunnies

Ingrid-toons from Rutgers' Douglass College newspaper (the Caellian) in 1981.

(Courtesy of Amy Rubin).

Portrait of the Artist as a Young Woman

A review of L'Ingenue in The Advocate. Click on the image to get a readable version. They loved it, even if they didn't get her name quite right.

(Courtesy of Amy Rubin).

When Gravity Fails

Ingrid’s death has hit me quite hard. Like a brick, in fact, and I cannot seem to grasp that she is gone.

My partner, Susan, has been a great comfort and we both have talked about how petty and insignificant our problems seem in comparison. Perspective is so hard-won, isn’t it?

It seems to me that Ingrid surely must still be here, that her death defies the laws of nature somehow, as though gravity had stopped working. Surely some mistake has been made, surely I have misunderstood and she is still alive, laughing and funny, unique and a little bit strange, warm and safe, and the keeper of our teenage memories.

It seems to me that Ingrid and I made each other what we are, or were, today. If she hadn’t been there, goodness only knows how long it would have taken me to come out. Perhaps all the energy that coming out would have required might have been stolen from the energy I put into journalism and I would never have succeeded at that as well as I did. Had Ingrid and I not come out together at such a young age, I might have gone in a completely different direction, less true to myself and the reality of my life.

Ingrid made me what I am today, in some very real sense, and I feel disconnected and untethered, like an astronaut floating in space after his jetpack has stopped working. I talk to her in my head all day long now, telling her how much I love her, how much I miss her, how much I needed her.

I don’t bargain with God, as I know many people do, because I don’t see God as intervening so much in our lives, but in these last days I have been begging for peace for her, for light and happiness and the best of all possible worlds for her. Oh, how I miss my sweet and funny friend.

--Caren Crockett

What Will We Do Without Ingrid?

What will we do without Ingrid?

This is what my partner Esther and I have been asking each other these past few days.

Ingrid was brilliant, funny, kind, and generous. Always ready to laugh and play. Her campy sensibility went right to my heart and made a home there.

I have so many memories of fun times with Ingie aka The Schnittmeister. She was in our little guerilla video gang with myself, Amy Boyd, Margo Dean and a few other gals of the comedy and woman loving persuasion. Amy and I would come up with some silly idea and Ingrid would jump right in and make it sillier and better. Ingrid was simply brilliant at putting ideas on film--whether it was stuff she wrote herself or other people's work. She knew how to get in there and make it real. I still remember the days when we were working on our "A Religious Experience" video and I jokingly asked her if she could make our "nuns" shoot up out of the ground. Before I could actually finish the sentence, lo and behold she had figured out how to do it! She was also the only woman (through the magic of editing) able to give my boobs their own sound effects "boing, boing, boing."

Random fun memories:

Ingrid playing the accordion while Amy (dressed in full cow costume) sang Cow Cow Boogie and I (dressed in full cowgirl drag) milked Amy's "teats" during the dance break.
(All done at Ingrid's request. She even loaned me her jar of udder balm so it would be more authentic!)

Ingrid "flipping" the cow picture back and forth in our video while we sat in the editing suite with her laughing until our cheeks hurt.

Ingrid and I swapping farm girl stories (as you can see from memories above we were both a little obsessed with cows)--favorite phrase, "you little heifer."

I'll miss you something fierce Ingrid and love you always.

--Karla Carmony

Her Desire to Love and Be Loved

I cannot believe all of this... being in NY so far away and yet we re-connected after not seeing each other for almost 10 years. She and I worked and played together for many years. Her sense of humor, her positive energy, her desire to love and be loved drew me to her over 25 years ago. In work and in play, Ingrid would always bring a warm smile to my heart. I will miss her wonderful spirit and hope it comes for a visit soon! See you on the other side sweet woman!

love always, Jane

--Jane Jackson

Boy, Howdy, She Sure Knew How to Make Us Laugh

Ingrid befriended me at a time when a whole lot of lesbians weren't befriending trannies. We shared a common love of Borscht Belt humor. Hers was from the prairie, mine from the new jersey shore, but we met in the middle over all that corn. I love that she was a self- proclaimed, out and proud cornball. Her and that accordion of hers. Didn't she have the best smile in the world when she played that thing?!? Didn't she pour her heart into it? Oh, what a sweet, generous, talented woman.

My dearest Ingrid, I love you so. Make 'em laugh in the next world, kiddo.

-- kate bornstein

Never an Ounce of Pretense or Attitude

My name is Zac Pineda. I am an editor at Video Arts. I was very sad to hear of Ingrid's passing. I worked with her off and on for many years and we crossed paths in the hallway at Video Arts. She was very smart, creative, warm and always a pleasure to work with and around. As talented as she was there was never an ounce of pretense or attitude and believe me that can sometimes be rare in this business. I will miss her and I will pray for her and her loved ones...

--Zac Pineda

She Had a Way of Carrying Herself

My knowing Ingrid was confined to the times she was editing here at Video Arts. We jammed on accordions at least one of those times, and she gave me a copy of "The Streets of Paris" (a popular accordion tune) on which she wrote "Hey, Bob -- Squeeze This!--" It was so entertaining and calming to talk with her, I'd always try to connect when she was in here doing something.

I can't quite believe I won't get to see her here again---I was imagining, hoping she'd be able to fight off the tumor, and get back in the saddle of editing projects. It smacks you with the preciousness and fragility of life. I can't compare my sense of loss to yours, but I envy your knowing her better. To me she seemed a centered and nourishing person. Her absence leaves a big void in a lot of people's lives, but what she gave us will definitely help us. I feel my personality borrows from everyone I ever met; she had a way of carrying herself, confident and gentle, that I will keep as an example to follow.

--Bob Johns

It Was Not Possible Not to Love This Woman

I can count on one hand the number of people I know who would do this. And only Ingrid would be able to pull it off.

The Way-Back Triad on the job: Ingrid, with Jan H and Jane Jackson. No idea where the ideas for It's a Lezzie Life came from. No idea at all.

(Photos courtesy of Jane Jackson.)

Home From the Hospital

Jan. 7, 2008, with plush critters in tow. The black cat became a bedfellow, as did all cats anywhere near Ingrid. She was a cat magnet.

With Petra E. Janopaul at Ingrid's home with Sauni.

(Photos courtesy of Petra E. Janopaul.)

Side By Side

Ingrid had been my editor buddy for nearly 2 years - I was her producer at Lieberman/Philo as we made infomercials for all over the world. We sat in a room together five days a week trying to make sense out of whatever we were doing & we had a pretty damn good time doing it - thanks to Ingrid.

I can't imagine how hard it is for people who've had her all their lives to lose such a shining star all of a sudden. For me -- I can't believe that she's not going to come back and make me laugh & smile every day like she did for so long. I watched her slip away - not knowing that that was happening - and now that she's gone I'm just overwhelmed and incredulous - how can she not be here - not be here with us? I just hope she's someplace better smiling that big smile of hers - feeling how much she is loved and missed.

--Petra E. Janopaul

Ingrid Wilhite, Jan. 15, 2008

Oh, Ingrid. Sweet, dear, funny, smart Ingrid. My first girlfriend when I was 15 years old. I was her first girlfriend. We came out together, just two baby dykes in Kuna, Idaho, who somehow found each other and never let go. We made each other brave.

Ingrid was my close friend for 31 years. Her birthday is my wedding anniversary with my partner Susan. I told Ingrid things no one else knew, and together we experienced that passionate, dramatic love that you only have with your first. And now that space is empty and the loss feels so large, so profound.

What a loss, what a waste. She was so creative, so funny, so unique. And I was so proud of her for the way she made her way in the world, for the way she created her own life. Right now, today, I cannot imagine the world without her.

I expect to see you again someday, Ingrid, to laugh at our former selves and to feel proud at how strong we were at such a young age.

Safe journey, old friend. I hope that heaven is made of cats and that every one of them is surrounding you with love. I send my love to you, too, dear dear Ingrid. I miss you.

--Caren Crockett

A Broken Heart

I love you, Ingrid, with all my heart. With all my heart, old friend.

Battleboro, VT, 1982

Artfully torn jeans, toothpick, SF sweatshirt. Ingrid's uniform for the Reagan years.

Perhaps You Should Consider Shaving...

I know there will be hell to pay for posting this. It was not possible to resist. You KNOW this, Miss Kaveman Class of '77. Hey, at least I didn't post what you wrote on the back.

Rutgers? Boise? Whitman?

Each night before I fall asleep, I pray that those are not your posters on the wall. And what the hell is that yellow animal-fur-thing? Gorilla socks?

San Francisco in the '90s

Nice jacket. Hair's not bad, either. But the smile is best. Though I am pretty sure your mother taught you not to pose in traffic.

Summer with Lily, 1981

Let. Me. Down. Damn it.

Osmond Family Hairdo #47

Posing on top of some big rock in Boise, every hair in place. This photo is actually very small and lived in a tiny, red frame for more than 25 years. Thus the oh-so-finely cropped edges.

Yo! Ingrid!

I love the way Ingrid's plaid shirt clashes with the upholstery on my mother's wing-back chair. Lookin' foxy in the mid-1970s...