In 1975, a well-known musician met iconic actress Goldie Hawn at the height of their careers.
The two crossed paths while traveling from New York to Los Angeles on a first-class flight, and their connection was immediate.
The musician, a member of The Hudson Brothers, was already a prominent figure in the music world, having performed alongside The Beach Boys, The Osmonds, and The Monkees. In addition to his music career, he also appeared in films and TV shows, most notably the cult classic Hysterical.
Recalling their first encounter, the musician described the chemistry as undeniable. “The attraction was instant. I invited her out to dinner that night, and that was it,” he shared. Their relationship quickly escalated, with their physical connection being a central aspect.
“The [intimacy] was mind-blowing. Even when everything else in the relationship turned sour, the [intimacy] was always amazing,” he added, per the Daily Mail. Though their relationship had its ups and downs, there were moments when it seemed as though they were making progress.
The couple married in 1976 when Goldie was pregnant with their first child, a son. However, their son’s birth was not without complications. Born at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles, he was diagnosed with meconium aspiration, a life-threatening condition in which a newborn inhales amniotic fluid contaminated with meconium.
The newborn was isolated for three days after birth, which deeply distressed the couple. “Goldie and I were beside ourselves,” the musician remembered. He further explained: “She was really sick, and I’d go from her bedside to the neonatal intensive care unit. The doctors didn’t think [son’s name] would make it. But [he] pulled through, and from that moment, he was our precious miracle.”
Three years later, the couple welcomed their second child, a daughter, in 1979. The family of four enjoyed several happy years together, but their marriage came to an unfortunate end in 1981 when the musician discovered Goldie had been unfaithful. The musician longed for a traditional marriage, which conflicted with Goldie’s views on commitment.
“Goldie was having affairs, [and] she told me pretty much on our wedding night that she wanted an open marriage, that she couldn’t imagine being faithful to one man for the rest of her life,” he revealed to the Daily Mail. “I wanted a traditional marriage, but Goldie couldn’t settle. Eventually, I moved out.”
After their split, Goldie began dating actor Kurt Russell in 1983. They had initially met in 1968 while filming The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band, but it wasn’t until their reunion on the set of Swing Shift that their romantic relationship blossomed. Their son, Wyatt Russell, was born in 1986, three years into their relationship.
Blending their families proved to be a significant adjustment. Goldie’s daughter recalled: “For me, it felt like such a big moment because it was like, ‘My mom is madly in love with this guy.’” She added: “And I was meeting his son [Boston], which meant, ‘Does this mean that this is my brother?’ It was a lot to handle at such a young age.”
Goldie’s children from her previous marriage struggled with feelings of abandonment after their parents’ divorce. Her son recalled how their biological father gradually distanced himself from their family. Reflecting on a controversial Father’s Day post dedicated to Kurt, he said: “It doesn’t really matter which one of these men is my father. My pa stepped in when I was six and made me the man I am today.”
Both siblings have fond memories of Kurt stepping into the role of father figure. Though their relationship with their biological father, Bill, remains strained, they often express gratitude for Kurt’s dedication.
Meanwhile, Bill has openly voiced his feelings of betrayal, accusing Goldie of “poisoning” their children against him. Despite the tension, Kate and Oliver are focused on healing from their past and maintaining a positive outlook for the future, per Hello!.
By 2015, the strained relationship with Bill became public when Oliver posted a controversial Father’s Day message on social media. He shared a throwback picture of himself, Kate, and Bill, captioned: “Happy abandonment day… @katehudson.”
Bill, angered by the post, expressed his frustration in an interview, saying: “Oliver could have picked up the phone and called me, but he hasn’t. This was clearly premeditated; he chose the photograph and posted it on Father’s Day when he knew it would cause maximum pain.”
Bill went further to claim that if Oliver wanted to cut him out of their lives, he had succeeded. The fallout only deepened when Kate followed Oliver’s lead and posted her own tribute to Kurt, which added to the tension.
Kate appeared on Howard Stern’s show, speaking about how Kurt was the father who was present during the difficult and challenging times. In response, Bill stated, per the Daily Mail: “I would ask them to stop using the Hudson name [because] they are no longer a part of my life.”
He further expressed: “Oliver’s Instagram post was a malicious, vicious, premeditated attack; he is dead to me now, as is Kate. I am mourning their loss even though they are still walking this earth.” Following this, Bill decided to remove all childhood memorabilia of Kate and Oliver from his home, according to the Daily Mail report.
Despite the distance between Bill and his older children, Kurt has embraced his role as a grandfather to Kate and Oliver’s children.
While Bill continues to harbor resentment, Kate and Oliver have moved on, choosing to focus on the family bonds they’ve built with their stepfather, Kurt.
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Living Across from a Cemetery, I Saw a Baby Left by One of the Graves on Halloween Night
Now, those days were long gone, but I still cherished the traditions. Each year, I decorated my house with cobwebs, pumpkins, and spooky lights, and waited for the neighborhood kids to come trick-or-treating. It brought a little light into my otherwise quiet life.
Just two years ago, I had walked the same streets with my daughter, holding her tiny hand as we went door to door. It feels like a distant dream now, a beautiful memory that slipped away too soon. Losing her shattered me, and it broke my marriage with John as well. We couldn’t find a way to heal, and we drifted apart under the weight of our grief.
That night, after handing out candy for hours, I realized my bowl was empty. With a sigh, I hung a “No More Treats” sign on the door. A familiar ache settled in my chest—the kind that never fully goes away.
My house stood directly across from a cemetery, a place that unnerved most people. It didn’t bother me. The rent was cheap, and I’d never been one to believe in ghosts. I made myself a cup of cocoa and sat by the window, half-expecting to see some teenagers playing pranks among the gravestones.
But what I saw instead made my heart skip a beat. Near one of the graves was what looked like a baby car seat. I blinked, thinking it was a trick of the light, but the shape didn’t waver.
I grabbed my coat and hurried outside, the chilly October air biting at my skin. The cemetery was eerily still as I walked closer to the grave, every step filled with dread. When I finally reached it, my breath caught in my throat. There, in the car seat, was a tiny baby, fast asleep.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, kneeling down to pick her up. She was so small, completely unaware of the cold night air around her. “How did you get here?” I asked softly, knowing there would be no answer. I held her close and rushed back to the house.
Once inside, I laid her gently on the couch and noticed a note taped to her car seat. With trembling hands, I unfolded it. The note read, “Amanda, one and a half years old.”
That was all. No phone number, no explanation. Just a name. I searched the car seat for more information, but there was nothing. I looked down at Amanda, who stirred slightly, and felt my heart twist. What was I going to do with her?
Without thinking, I called the police. They listened as I explained the situation, but when they told me there were no reports of a missing child, frustration bubbled inside me. Still, they asked me to bring her in.
At the station, Amanda sat quietly in her car seat, her wide eyes gazing up at me as though she already trusted me. When the officers said she’d be placed in the care of social services, a sudden surge of protectiveness washed over me.
“Can she stay with me, at least for now?” I asked, my voice steady though my heart raced.
After hours of paperwork and background checks, they agreed. Amanda was coming home with me.
The days that followed were a blur of bottles, diapers, and sleepless nights. It had been so long since I’d taken care of a little one, but it all came back to me piece by piece. Every morning, I bought her toys, read her stories, and watched as her giggles filled the quiet spaces of my house. She became the light I didn’t know I needed.
It wasn’t always easy—some nights, her cries were impossible to soothe. But even in those difficult moments, I found joy. Amanda had filled the void in my heart, a place that had been empty for so long. The more time we spent together, the more attached I became.
One morning, as I fed Amanda breakfast, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a police officer standing with an elderly woman by his side.
“Jessica,” the officer said gently. “This is Amanda’s grandmother, Carol. She’s here to take her back.”
My heart sank. Amanda had become so much a part of me that the thought of letting her go felt unbearable. But Carol was her family. I had no right to keep her.
Carol stepped forward, smiling warmly. “Hello, sweetie,” she said, reaching for Amanda. Every instinct in me screamed to hold on, but I slowly handed her over.
The moment Amanda left my arms, she started to cry. Her little hands reached for me, and it was like a dagger to my heart. Tears stung my eyes as I watched her go, but I knew I had no choice.
Before leaving, Carol handed me a basket and thanked me for taking care of Amanda. As soon as they were gone, I collapsed on the couch, tears flowing freely. It felt like I had lost my daughter all over again.
Later that night, I stared at the basket, too heartbroken to eat. Something nagged at me, though. I picked up the thank-you note Carol had left and read it again. The handwriting looked familiar.
My heart raced as I ran to my room and grabbed the note that had been left with Amanda’s car seat. Holding the two side by side, a chill ran down my spine. The handwriting was the same. Carol had abandoned Amanda at the cemetery.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in a long time.
“John, hi,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Jess?” he sounded surprised. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” I admitted, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. “I need your help.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said, his voice firm.
John arrived in under twenty minutes. I told him everything—about Amanda, the cemetery, and Carol’s deception. He listened quietly, and when I finished, he asked the question I’d been dreading.
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to take her back,” I said, my voice strong with conviction. “Amanda belongs with me.”
John nodded, and from that moment, we worked together. It was a long battle—endless meetings with lawyers and tense confrontations with Carol—but we didn’t give up. Weeks later, we stood in court, ready to fight for Amanda’s future.
Carol broke down on the stand, admitting that she had left Amanda at the cemetery because she could no longer care for her. The court revoked her custody, and I was granted temporary guardianship—with the possibility of adoption.
As I walked out of the courthouse, Amanda resting peacefully in my arms, I couldn’t stop smiling. She was mine, and I would do everything in my power to keep her safe and loved.
John walked beside us, his expression calm but content. “You’re going to be an amazing mom to her,” he said softly.
I smiled at him, my heart full of gratitude. “Thank you, John. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
As we walked away from the courthouse, I felt a renewed sense of hope. Halloween had always been special to me, but now it meant something even greater—it brought Amanda into my life.
And perhaps, just maybe, it was bringing John back into it, too.
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