Sharon Tate

Sharon Tate had the kind of luminous, open warmth that made the whole industry lean toward her, and her chart carries that softness at its very surface. Cancer rose on her horizon, the lunar mask of the crab, the round moon-face, the shiny sensitive eyes, the tender maternal presence that others instinctively trusted. Her Aquarius Sun shone in the seventh house of partnership, so her light truly came alive through others and through union; the born diplomat whose identity was woven into the person beside her, drawn always toward the radiant and the solar. She began as a model and in advertisements, moved into small television parts, then arrived properly with Valley of the Dolls in 1967, a Golden Globe nomination, and a place among Hollywood's brightest newcomers. That same year she made The Fearless Vampire Killers with Roman Polanski, who became her husband. Her Moon in Virgo sat in the third house, an exalted, service-minded psyche that expressed feeling through care and craft and the everyday. On 9 August 1969, eight and a half months pregnant, she and four others were murdered in her own home by members of the Manson cult. A gentle, gifted life stolen far too soon, remembered for its light rather than its ending.