The Life and Death of Phyllis Hyman

Phyllis Hyman had a voice that stopped you mid-thought. Rich, soulful, and impossible to ignore, she could move through a ballad like “Living All Alone” with devastating vulnerability, then turn around and deliver the kind of uptempo energy that made you want to move. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, yes, but it was that voice that made her unforgettable to anyone who heard her sing.

Yet just as she was carving out her place as one of the era’s most compelling artists, her life was cut tragically short. Phyllis Hyman died on June 30, 1995, after years of battling addiction and depression. More than three decades later, those who knew her work continue to speak her name and keep her legacy alive.

Born in Philly

Phyllis Linda Hyman was born on July 7, 1949, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The oldest of seven children, she grew up in a household where her father worked as a barber and her mother managed the home. When Phyllis was young, the family relocated to Pittsburgh.

Finding Her Voice in Miami

Her talent emerged early. In high school, she sang in the chorus and earned a music scholarship to continue her education. By the early 1970s, Hyman had moved to Miami, where she began working the local club circuit, performing covers of popular music and jazz standards to build her reputation and her bank account.

The PH Factor Years

By the mid-1970s, Hyman decided to take control of her own direction. She formed a group called PH Factor, and the gamble paid off. Her bandmate Hiram Bullock recalled the impact of working alongside her: “I don’t ever recall an audition where we didn’t get the gig. I never heard anyone sing with such freedom.” That freedom, that effortless command of her instrument, became her calling card in the New York City club scene after the group relocated in 1975.

The Norman Connors Connection

It was in New York where Hyman met jazz and R&B producer Norman Connors, a man known for working with powerful vocalists like Jean Carne and Angela Bofill. Together, they recorded a version of The Stylistics’ classic “Betcha By Golly Wow,” a recording that would become the foundation of her solo career and eventually land her a deal with Buddah Records.

Beyond the Spotlight

Hyman’s voice appeared in places beyond concert halls and recording studios. She lent her talents to commercial jingles for major brands like Sasson Jeans, Clairol, and Burger King. It was steady work, work that kept her name circulating even when her recording career hit plateaus.

Love and Its Complications

In 1973, while working as an entertainer on a cruise ship, Hyman met Larry Alexander, another performer on board. Their professional relationship deepened into something personal. Alexander became her manager and, by 1977, her husband. The marriage lasted five years before ending in divorce. According to those close to her, Alexander was the one who introduced her to cocaine, framing it as a way to manage the mounting pressures of the music business.

The Clive Davis Era

In 1978, Arista Records acquired Buddah Records, which brought Hyman into the orbit of legendary executive Clive Davis. He saw her potential immediately. Davis paired her with Barry Manilow, who produced and arranged “Somewhere in My Lifetime,” and later connected her with producers James Mtume and Reggie Lucas. Their collaboration yielded her first Top 15 R&B hit, the infectious track “You Know How to Love Me.”

But Davis had bigger plans. He envisioned Hyman as a crossover pop star, not simply an R&B artist. She resisted. Hyman had a clear sense of who she was and what her art should be. She felt the label executives weren’t truly seeing her vision, and she bristled at the idea of being molded into something she wasn’t. Music journalist David Nathan observed the tension: “As an artist who had a sense of herself and what she wanted to be, she felt that he was not seeing her vision for who she was, and he, in turn, was seeing her as someone who had potential but needed the kind of material that would propel her to another level.”

Moving On

The relationship fractured in 1984 when Arista signed Whitney Houston. Hyman was dropped. What might have been an acceptable business decision became personal rejection. She hadn’t wanted to leave; she’d wanted to be chosen, to stay. Her manager at the time, Glenda Gracia, noted the sting of that moment for Hyman.

Recovery came through Philadelphia International Records, which signed her in 1986. They believed in her classical sensibility, the idea that her voice could bring fresh life to jazz standards and timeless material.

Broadway and Tony Nominations

In 1981, Hyman took her talents to the Broadway stage, performing in “Sophisticated Ladies,” a Duke Ellington tribute that became a showcase for her range and artistry. She remained with the production for two and a half years, earning a Tony nomination for Best Supporting Actress. It was the kind of validation she’d been seeking.

The Struggle Within

Offstage, away from the applause and the spotlights, Hyman battled something less visible but no less consuming. She cycled between periods of extreme highs and devastating lows. Her therapist, Dr. Portia Hunt, would later diagnose her with bipolar disorder. Cocaine and alcohol became her way of managing the pain, a cycle that fed itself with each use.

In 1986, Dr. Hunt convinced Hyman to enter treatment. She emerged determined to rebuild her life, to use her sobriety as a launching point for genuine artistic renewal. Her sister Jean would later reflect on what might have helped her hold on: “I think if she had been able to maintain some semblance of a normal home life, I think she could have dealt with the pressures of the business a little better.”

The Ballads That Cut Deep

Coming out of treatment with Philadelphia International, Hyman recorded “Living All Alone,” a 1986 single that became one of her defining moments. Written by Kenneth Gamble, Dexter Wansel, and Cynthina Biggs, the song’s lyrics about solitude and self-discovery weren’t just clever songwriting. They were autobiography. You could hear the rawness, the truth, in every sustained note.

“Now I live a single life, and I find it’s another world / I’m not even the same, I’m a different girl / Yesterday I was somebody’s baby / Now today I’m a woman on my own.”

A few years later, her 1991 ballad “Living in Confusion” continued that arc of vulnerability, this time examining love’s betrayals and the pain of misplaced trust.

The Cost of Fame

Success didn’t deliver companionship. After her divorce from Alexander, romance eluded her. She never remarried. The demands of her career left little room for the kind of sustained personal connection she craved. She was also painfully aware of the imbalance built into the industry itself. “Being a woman in this industry is very lonely,” she said in an interview. “It’s rare that you have men hanging around backstage and at parties where you might be, the same way you might have women around the men. There is no such thing as a male groupie, at least not one that I would date. That makes it pretty tough.”

The loneliness fed her struggles. She battled addiction to food, alcohol, and cocaine in cycles. Weight fluctuations, financial strain, and depression became as much a part of her life as her gift for singing.

June 30, 1995

On the afternoon of June 30, 1995, Hyman’s assistant found her unresponsive in her New York City apartment. She was scheduled to perform at the Apollo Theater that evening. At Roosevelt Hospital, she was pronounced dead at 3:50 p.m. The cause was an overdose of sleeping pills. She was five days shy of her 45th birthday.

On the scene, investigators found a handwritten note. It read: “I’m tired. I’m tired. Those of you that I love know who you are. May God bless you.”

Friends and loved ones gathered at St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in Manhattan to remember her.