The We don't know what she was thinking in her final moments. We can only guess, based on the evidence she left behind.

It would have been quite a hike for her. There are trails that

twist and meander all throughout the Hollywood hills. Trails that were only once

traveled by donkeys or natives in Yuuckathched moccasins.

It was September 1932 when she made her own climb up those trails.

That summer had been brutally hot, and even by fall a climb up that trail would have been

torturous under the late afternoon sun.

She started on Beachwood Drive, headed towards the southern slope of Mount Lee,

and trudged her way up the long winding path.

Today there are fences all around and electronic sensors preventing people from getting too close to the sign, but not back then.

Back then you could walk all the way up to the base of the sign and stay hidden in its long jagged shadow.

The sign said Hollywood land back then.

Those last four letters wouldn't come down for over another decade.

We don't know for certain what time she reached her destination.

Nor do we know when she started her last perilous climb up the rickety maintenance ladder

behind the letter H. But if you'll allow me this one bit of speculation,

I like to think it was just around sunset.

When the sun drooped low behind the horizon and sky turned that brilliant shade of gold melting into crimson.

In those fading moments just before the sun ceded control to the purple twilight,

a perfect movie sunset.

The kind of sky you'd want to see a cowboy riding off into just before the credits rolled,

for two young lovers sharing a long final kiss, silhouetted against the sun.

...