The Woman Neil Diamond Never Sang About — But Never Forgot
Jayne Posner. A name that rarely comes up when talking about Neil Diamond — the voice behind “Sweet Caroline,” “America,” and “I Am… I Said.” And yet, for those who look beyond the gold records and the Grammy nominations, she was there. Not in his lyrics. Not in his stage dedications. But in the silence — a profound absence that speaks volumes.
Before the spotlight: a young love in Brooklyn
Neil met Jayne Posner during their teenage years at Abraham Lincoln High School in Brooklyn, New York. She was intelligent, quiet, and poised — a high school teacher with a gentle demeanor. Neil was an aspiring songwriter, juggling school and part-time jobs while dreaming of making it big in music.
Their love blossomed not in the limelight, but in the soft shadows of city parks and quiet evenings. They married in 1963, just as Neil was still struggling to find his place in the music world. Jayne supported him wholeheartedly — financially, emotionally, and spiritually. She believed in his dream before anyone else did.
They had two daughters together: Marjorie and Elyn.
Success came — and so did the distance
By 1966, Neil’s career began taking off. His first hits like “Solitary Man” and “Cherry, Cherry” put him on the map. Offers from record labels poured in. Tours, interviews, and long studio sessions became the new norm. But fame has a price. The couple’s relationship, once built on simplicity and mutual sacrifice, started to show cracks. By 1969 — only six years into the marriage — Jayne and Neil divorced. The breakup was private and respectful, with no messy headlines or public blame. Still, it marked the end of an era. Neil never publicly addressed the marriage in depth. He didn’t write a song about her, at least not explicitly. But in melancholic tracks like “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers” or “Love on the Rocks,” fans often sense the lingering echoes of a love that once was — tender, essential, and now… gone.
Jayne’s quiet life away from the music scene
After the divorce, Jayne Posner stepped away from public view. She returned to her role as an educator and focused on raising her daughters. There were no tell-all interviews, no tabloids, no lawsuits. Just quiet dignity. She never used Neil’s fame for attention. She didn’t publish memoirs, didn’t chase royalties, and never tried to retell the story from her perspective. In a world increasingly addicted to exposure, Jayne chose silence. And in that silence lies a kind of grace. Today, many Neil Diamond fans don’t even know about Jayne. They know Marcia Murphey, the second wife, or Katie McNeil, whom he married in 2012. But Jayne — the woman who stood by him before the music, before the world knew his name — is often forgotten.
An unspoken legacy
Neil once said: “Songs are how I talk about things I can’t say in real life.” Perhaps this is why there’s never been a song titled “Jayne,” nor a single lyric that mentions her name. But maybe he didn’t need to. Sometimes, the deepest stories are the ones we never tell. Jayne Posner was the chapter before the book became a bestseller. She was the first line in a song that never got recorded. And though her name isn’t etched into the platinum records or spotlighted in documentaries, she remains an essential piece of Neil Diamond’s legacy. We may never hear Neil speak of her directly. But we can hear her in the pauses between lyrics, in the sadness behind the melody, and in the echoes of a time before the world knew who Neil Diamond really was.