This is the true story of an impetuous action that yielded a remarkable result. For longer than I can remember, I've had a crush on Daniel Day-Lewis. He seems to me to be the physical ideal of what I look for in a man. I also admire many things about him as a person, but I won't enumerate them here.

During one period of more-than-usually intense hankering after this man, I found myself sitting in traffic waiting for the light to change. I don't think I was actually focusing on anything in particular at that moment, but suddenly this idea came to me that if I went to Ireland I'd see him. I had been on my way home for a lunch break but I never did eat that day. By the time I got to my front door I was shaking! I looked up the number for the airlines and booked a flight on the spot (thank you, credit card!).I had given myself enough time to apply for and get leave from work. When I asked for the leave, and gave the dates I needed, my boss said, "You're going to Ireland? Why didn't you tell me this morning?" "I didn't know I was going this morning!"

A few weeks later I was in the air, traveling alone to a strange country for what now seemed like the most impossible of reasons. When I arrived in Dublin I was jet-lagged but excited. I found the little hotel I'd booked into, got something to eat and went back to my room and collapsed.

The next morning I headed for the Irish Film Centre and spoke to a woman there who told me that In the Name of the Father had finished filming the week before. I'd expected that, but she told me the film had been shot at a site that's open to the public. It was worth it to me to have traveled all that way even if I only got to see the place he'd been working. Off I went on the #71 bus to Kilmainham Jail. There I met and started conversing with a guide who was more than happy to tell me of Daniel's time at the Jail. She even described his car to me: a silver BMW with a black convertible top. We exchanged stories for a while longer and then I said goodbye.

It was late afternoon by this time and I thought I'd go back into central Dublin and get something to eat. I found a tiny restaurant down a side street that would serve me a vegetarian meal. I sat at a table by the window, but read a magazine while I ate. If I hadn't been reading, I would have been looking out the window to see a silver and black BMW pull up and park directly outside, and a long-legged, black-haired, gorgeous man climb out and walk down the street.

My meal finished, I decided to begin my search for Daniel in earnest. I'd already been in Dublin a whole day, and my new friend at Kilmainham Jail mentioned a nightclub he could be seen going into sometimes. She told me it was in a certain street, but as I stood outside the restaurant looking at my small, inadequate map book, I knew I'd need to ask the help of a local. The street was deserted. There was a very important soccer match going on at that time and most people were indoors watching it on the tv. Or so I thought.

But here came someone. I'd ask him. Then I noticed that his walk looked familiar. And as he reached me I was stunned. It was Daniel! I stood there trying to talk myself out of the possibility. It just couldn't be him. But he stopped next to the BMW, and I had my proof. I gave myself a little lecture on the spot. Look, goof, you came thousands of miles to see him. Get over there! I went.

As I approached him I saw him straighten up and eye me warily. But I calmly asked him if he was Daniel, and he said yes. I told him I'd come from America to see him. He laughed at that. He plainly didn't believe me, and if I'd tried to convince him I would have sounded like a nut case. I already felt like one. I began by asking him about the new film, and from there we went to birthdays (ours are one day apart), and some other things that I have no idea of. My mind was racing! But he visibly relaxed while we talked. I'm sure he appreciated that I didn't treat him like a celebrity-thing, but as a person. After about 10 minutes, I said to him, "Well, you'd better go. I'm making you late." He grinned at me and said, "I'm making myself late." What other proof does one need that there is a God? At last we parted. He to go to his friend Mike's birthday party and me to go have a nervous breakdown. [The picture was taken by a young woman who came down the street just about the time I realised I had my camera with me.]