I pasted his face to my lime-green bedroom walls, tearing the pictures out of fan magazines. I adored him in Stand by Me, which I watched repeatedly on VHS.
But somehow I have no recollection of where I was or what I was doing when, twenty years ago, I heard the news that River Phoenix had died. I remember exactly where I was when I learned of the deaths of Kurt Cobain, Princess Di, and Amy Winehouse.* The same is true with regard to the sad news of a number of more recent celebrity deaths, when I have been positioned in front of a computer screen, watching Twitter reactions flash before me that add an additional layer to my emotions.