Rising Music Sensation Nell Smith Passes Away at Just 17 After Collaborating with The Flaming Lips

The death of young musician Nell Smith has left a deep impact on both the music world and the public. At just 17, Nell passed away on Saturday night, October 5, in British Columbia. Along with her family, many well-known musicians have expressed their sadness and shock over her sudden death.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

Nell was about to release her first solo album next year. The album, which she recorded in Brighton, was going to be released by Bella Union, an independent record label. Despite her young age, she had already achieved a lot in her music career. Her passing happened just as her career was set to soar.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

Simon Raymonde, co-owner of Bella Union and the producer of Nell’s upcoming album, shared his grief on Instagram. He posted photos of Nell, along with a heartfelt message. The photos were given to him by Nell’s family and musician Warren Ellis. One of the images showed Nell and her brother, Ike, in a tender family moment. Another picture showed Nell standing on a beach, deep in thought, with her guitar. Simon mentioned this was taken when she wrote one of her first songs on Vancouver Island.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

There were also photos of Nell with The Flaming Lips’ lead singer, Wayne Coyne, who she had collaborated with on a project in 2021. Another image captured the moment Nell saw her blue vinyl record “Where The Viaduct Looms” for the first time, her smile showing how proud she was of her work.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

Simon’s last photo showed Nell and Warren Ellis sharing a close moment, with Nell wrapping her arms around the musician. Warren held what looked like Nell’s mixtape, a symbol of her early passion for music.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

In his post, Simon expressed that, out of respect for Nell’s family, he couldn’t share more details at the time. He spoke about her talent and the incredible things she had already accomplished as a young artist.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

Nell’s family also shared their sadness on Instagram. They posted a series of photos, remembering special moments they had shared with Nell. Alongside the photos, they wrote a heartfelt message: “Our feisty, talented, unique, beautiful daughter was taken from us too soon. We are heartbroken and don’t know what to do or say.” They added that while Nell had so much more to give to the world, they were thankful for all she had experienced in her 17 years. Her family asked for privacy as they dealt with the tragedy, signing off with their names: Jude, Rachel, Jed, and Ike.

Music producer Howard Redekopp, who had worked with Nell on her upcoming album, also shared a tribute on social media. Posting photos of the two of them, Howard wrote about how much he valued the time they spent together, even though it was brief. He praised Nell as a rare and extraordinary talent, and shared how heartbroken he was that she wouldn’t be able to see the lasting influence her music would have. He ended his post by sending love to Nell’s family and friends.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

Musician Micah Nelson, son of the legendary Willie Nelson, also paid tribute to Nell on Instagram. He shared images of the two of them playing music together and wrote about the tragedy of her passing. He described Nell as a bright and talented person, full of promise, and shared his sympathy with her family.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

Fans have also reacted strongly to the news of Nell’s passing. One fan, posting on Threads, shared a photo from a recent Flaming Lips concert in Portland where the band’s lead singer Wayne Coyne had announced her death. The fan mentioned that Nell had died in a car accident.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

A video clip from the concert showed Wayne Coyne breaking the sad news to the audience. He spoke emotionally about his relationship with Nell and their work together on the album “Where The Viaduct Looms.” Wayne struggled to hold back tears as he told the crowd that Nell had died the night before. The audience responded with cheers of love and support, as Wayne reflected on the importance of music and the people we love.

Source: Instagram/judesmithjude

Nell’s connection with The Flaming Lips began in 2018 when she attended one of their concerts. She managed to get a letter to the band on their tour bus, which caught Wayne’s attention. From there, he stayed in contact with Nell’s parents as she began learning to play guitar. By the time she was 11, Nell was performing live, writing her own music, and playing alongside other well-known artists.

Rest in peace, Nell. Our thoughts are with her family, friends, and everyone who knew and loved her during this difficult time.

Priest Conducting Funeral Service for Wealthy Woman Leaned over Her Coffin – He Was Stunned to the Core by What He Saw

When Father Michael is conducting a funeral service for a woman, he notices an oddly shaped birthmark on her neck, exactly like his own. What comes next is a journey of self-discovery through the grieving process. Will Father Michael get the answers he so desperately wants to find?

The cathedral was silent, veiled in the heavy air of loss. Shadows from towering candles flickered along the marble floor as mourners dressed in black filled the pews, their heads bowed in reverence.

A funeral in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney

A funeral in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney

Eleanor, known throughout the community as a generous but reserved woman, had left behind both a sizable fortune and an enduring mystery.

Father Michael took a deep breath, the weight of yet another funeral pressing on him as he approached her casket. He’d never met Eleanor in person, yet something about her presence had always seemed familiar, almost hauntingly so.

As he moved closer, a strange compulsion stopped him. It was something that he couldn’t explain.

A priest in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney

A priest in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney

He paused, then leaned in, bowing his head to begin the prayer. But as he did, his gaze drifted to her neck, and he froze.

Just behind her ear, a small, purplish birthmark stood out against her pale skin. It was almost shaped like a plum, the same shape and color as the one he had carried his whole life.

“How?” he muttered. “What does this mean?”

A woman in a casket | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a casket | Source: Midjourney

A chill shot through him, his hand reaching up to press against his neck. He was well aware that everyone was looking at him, but still, he couldn’t help himself.

This is impossible, he thought.

His heart hammered as memories flooded him, half-forgotten sounds and incidents from his years in the orphanage, from the searches for any record of his parents. The longing he’d held onto for so long stirred within him, demanding answers.

A little boy standing in a room | Source: Midjourney

A little boy standing in a room | Source: Midjourney

Is there a connection between Eleanor and me? he wondered.

After the service, as the organ played its final verse, the mourners began to disperse, and Father Michael approached Eleanor’s children. They were all clustered near the altar, as her daughters decided who was taking home the floral bouquets.

His request hung on his lips like a prayer he wasn’t sure he was ready to speak.

A close up of a priest | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a priest | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” he said. “But I… I need to know something.”

“Of course, Father,” Jason, the youngest son, said. “Whatever you need.”

“I just wanted to know if there’s any chance that Eleanor… if she might have had a child. Another child, I mean. Years ago. Many years ago?”

Eleanor’s eldest son, Mark, frowned deeply, exchanging a wary glance with his siblings.

A frowning man | Source: Midjourney

A frowning man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Father, but what are you saying?” he asked. “Do you know something we don’t?”

“Did our mother come to you in confidence? Was there a confessional?” one of the daughters asked.

Father Michael took a deep breath and swallowed his nerves.

A close up of a priest | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a priest | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know,” he said, looking at Mark. “And no, your mother didn’t come to confessional. But I have reason to believe that it is true… If… if I could request a DNA test, just to put this to rest, I would be grateful.”

A wave of discomfort swept over the group, some of them shifting uncomfortably. Mark’s face hardened, skepticism clearly written all over.

“With all due respect, Father, this sounds preposterous. Trust me, our mother was an upstanding woman. She would have told us if something like this were true.”

A woman looking surprised | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking surprised | Source: Midjourney

Father Michael shifted on his feet.

“I understand that,” he said. “It’s just that Eleanor could have had her child very young, and while she wouldn’t have done anything wrong by allowing that child to be adopted, the child still exists.”

Father Michael knew he was speaking as a priest, but he couldn’t turn it off. He had been trained to speak softly and objectively. And even now, he didn’t know how to fight for this DNA test.

A priest looking uncertain | Source: Midjourney

A priest looking uncertain | Source: Midjourney

Instead, he nodded and began to back away before anything else happened.

“Wait,” Anna, Eleanor’s youngest daughter, said. She stepped forward, her gaze soft as she studied him.

“If you believe that it could be true, then I’ll do the test. I’d want answers, too. Are you the child?”

“I could be,” Father Michael said. “It’s that birthmark on her neck. I have it, too. And when I was at the orphanage, the old woman who was in charge of the kitchen said that all she could remember of my mother was the birthmark on her neck.”

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A week crawled by, and each day, Father Michael found himself tossing in his bed as he imagined what it would mean if it were true. Then, one morning, an envelope arrived at the rectory. He tore it open, barely able to see through his shaking hands as he read the results.

It was a match.

Days later, Father Michael sat alone in the rectory. Since the results had come out, he had visited Eleanor’s family, hoping they would be willing to listen now the results were concrete information.

DNA testing | Source: Midjourney

DNA testing | Source: Midjourney

Eleanor’s daughters, his half-sisters, were ready to welcome him into the family, but the brothers didn’t want anything to do with him. It was as though having a new “big brother” was too threatening for them.

He didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t going to fight for a way into their lives and their family. He wasn’t going to push himself in. But it did help that he knew where he belonged now.

Except… the one person with all the answers wasn’t around anymore.

A priest sitting in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney

A priest sitting in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney

“Father Michael?” an elderly woman’s soft voice brought him back to the present. “I’m Margaret, a friend of your mother. I was Eleanor’s best friend. Her daughter, Anna, told me everything when I went to have tea with them.”

“How can I help you?” he asked.

Her words struck him like a blow. Your mother. He motioned for her to come in, barely able to speak as they settled into chairs across from each other.

An elderly woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

An elderly woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

Margaret took a deep breath, her eyes misting over.

“Father,” she said. “Eleanor and I were close, closer than sisters, even. She told me things that no one else knew.”

He leaned forward, his heart pounding.

“Please, I need to know everything. I spent my entire life wondering where I came from.”

A priest sitting in an office | Source: Midjourney

A priest sitting in an office | Source: Midjourney

Margaret gave a sad smile.

“She was always so careful, our Eleanor. Always afraid of what people would think. But one summer, she met a man, a traveler, a free spirit. He was very different from who we were back then. And she said that he was like no one she’d ever met.”

Father Michael closed his eyes, imagining his mother as a young woman, full of life, swept away by the prospect of love. He didn’t speak; he was afraid that if he interrupted, the truth would slip through his fingers.

A smiling young couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling young couple | Source: Midjourney

“She didn’t even tell me at first,” Margaret continued. “When she found out she was pregnant, she was terrified. Her family had expectations. A child born out of wedlock would have ruined her. So, she concocted this story, and she told everyone that she was leaving for the North Pole, studying penguins of all things.”

The old woman chuckled and sighed.

“I thought it was absurd, but she left. She had you in secret and arranged for you to be taken to the orphanage.”

A pregnant woman holding her belly | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman holding her belly | Source: Midjourney

Father Michael’s throat tightened, emotions too tangled up to unravel.

“She gave me away to protect her reputation?” he asked.

“Oh no, Father,” she said. “It wasn’t about reputation, it was about survival. Eleanor loved you. I knew that. She would check in at the orphanage from time to time.”

“She asked about me?” he asked.

The exterior of a building | Source: Midjourney

The exterior of a building | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, yes,” Margaret said, smiling. “She kept track, as best she could. She couldn’t be in your life, but she made sure you were safe.”

Father Michael’s heart ached.

“I spent my life thinking that she’d abandoned me. And all this time, she… she was watching from a distance?”

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

“She didn’t forget you. It broke her heart, Father. She loved you in her own, quiet way. She just had to do this because it was either this or… who knows what your grandfather would have done.”

She’d loved him, even if he’d never felt it, even if she’d never told him herself.

In the weeks that followed, Eleanor’s family decided to embrace Father Michael with cautious but open arms. Anna became a steady presence at the rectory, often stopping by with scones or muffins and ever-ready to fill him in on family stories, recounting memories of Eleanor.

A basket of muffins | Source: Midjourney

A basket of muffins | Source: Midjourney

One afternoon, as Father Michael sat in his office, Anna came by with a small, worn photo album.

“I thought you might want this,” she said, placing it in his hands. “It’s… all the photos we have of Mom. Maybe they’ll help you piece her together.”

An old album on a table | Source: Midjourney

An old album on a table | Source: Midjourney

The next day, Father Michael found himself at Eleanor’s grave.

“I forgive you,” he said. “And I thank you for watching over me.”

Flowers on a grave | Source: Midjourney

Flowers on a grave | Source: Midjourney

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

A Homeless Man Approached Me and Showed Me a Birthmark on His Neck Identical to Mine

I never imagined a quick lunch break would lead me to the man who might be my father — a homeless stranger with the same birthmark as mine. As we wait for the DNA test result that could change everything, I can’t shake the feeling that my life is about to take a turn I never saw coming.

I stepped out of the office, loosening my tie as I hit the street. The sun was glaring, and the city buzzed around me, but all I could think about was grabbing a quick bite before my afternoon meetings. Work was nonstop these days, but that’s what comes with the territory. I’ve worked too hard to get here to complain now.

Man walking in the city | Source: Pexels

Man walking in the city | Source: Pexels

Growing up in that old trailer with Mom, life wasn’t easy. We didn’t have much, but she made sure we had enough. Mom, Stacey, was a force of nature.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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