So there I was, soundly asleep and suddenly awoken by my nine-year- old god daughter. "Derek," she called, "Princess Diana has been killed." My first thought was that this was just a bad dream.

I was in another country, a different house and coming near the end of a whirlwind tour of Ireland and England.

I turned on the television. The usually stoic British Broadcasting Corporation news anchors were even more stoic and somber than ever I remembered.

Reality set in. The news story of the decade flashed across the bottom of the screen: "Diana, Princess of Wales killed in car crash in Paris."

Now I am bolt upright. For a moment I do not hear or see the images on the screen. Outside, yet again it is raining, this time it is appropriate. England and the world has lost a unique and brilliant individual.

I am now numb. How can this be? This can not be the last chapter in a short life of such a person. Sadly, it is. It came at a time when she appeared to find the happiness that had eluded her for so long.

The mood of the people immediately around me was sad. It was mirrored on the television - not just in England, but around the world. Age, race, politics or class were all united in grief. The once shy 21-year-old, suddenly jettisoned onto the world stage pursued by photographers to the end.

The words on everybody lips, "such a tragedy, so young, irreplaceable."

At the time I heard the news, I was staying more than 80 miles outside London in a small rural community. Small hamlet or capitol city, the people of England were in mourning.

The BBC and other British national television and radio stations devoted all their air time to the Princess.

As I drove down the motorway to London, people in their cars appeared to be listening intently to their car radio. There were no smiles, an occasional tear and looks of disbelief.

The first sign of royalty as I approached London was Windsor Castle, the flag atop the main turret flying at half mast.

Upon arrival in Central London, there were more people on the streets, stopping at electronics store windows watching the television coverage. The crowds had an almost dazed look.

I found myself approaching Kensington Palace, home of the Princess. Hundreds of people from all over the world had come to pay their respects to the deceased "Queen of Hearts."

The tributes ranged from a simple rose to elaborate bouquets of flowers with balloons and photographs. There were several of each kind. Others were a simple page torn from a notebook with a poem or a simple "I will miss you."

The people gathered at Kensington Palace ranged from the very young to the elderly. Perhaps what struck me most was the amount of men, single or in groups, young and old, that came with flowers and were extremely overcome with grief. They placed their offering among the many already in place, some were motionless, others shook visibly, some to the point where they needed the support of strangers.

In her short life, Diana created a new role for a royal household member. She had gone against the norm, unafraid to show emotion publicly. She had the abilitiy to speak with people, whatever their economic or political level.

A simple gesture from Diana could speak volumes, such as shaking the hand of an AIDS patient. Her humanitarian efforts around the world have done much to improve lives.

Diana, Princess of Wales will always be remembered for her beauty. She must never be forgotten for her contributions and work through her charitable and humanitarian efforts.

In reality I am not surprised as to why I found myself, or anyone else for that matter, at Kensington Palace or any other shrine in Diana's honor. For whatever reason, she appealed to the people and gave hope to so many at a time when they needed it. She made it okay to reach out and touch, give comfort with a smile that could light up the world.

This Saturday at her funeral, that smile will be greatly missed and much needed.