People Who Died (World AIDS Day)
Chris – He was a rabble-rousing hippie friend about a decade and a half older than me, and the first person I knew who died of HIV/AIDS back in the late 80s. He dug New Wave music, taught me how to drive stick in his brother’s VW Bug, took me to my first concert at Madison Square Garden (Queen and Billy Squire), and patiently listened to me pine after various girls in our church’s youth choir who looked like Chrissie Hynde or Grace Jones. He’s probably unleashing a stream of choice expletives about Bush right now, wherever he is…
Ari – I met him through my college’s alumni theater company, where I sometimes helped at the lighting board and backstage (once falling asleep and waking up just as I was supposed to lower the curtain…). He was a brilliantly funny actor (both in drag and out) and terrific costume designer, who also made a mean bowl of gazpacho. Ari was one of the most warmhearted, decent people that ever crossed my path and graced this planet. The stage lights are dimmer without you.
Bruce – I grew up with Bruce. He was the younger brother of my best friend, who often tagged along for whatever we were doing in the neighborhood. He came into this world with a couple of strikes against him: his mother abandoned him, he was a hemophiliac, and was learning disabled. But he was lucky enough to become part of my friend’s family, the 13th child in their household (11 by birth, two adopted). His passion was Star Trek, and he could quote whole episodes verbatim. Spock particularly fascinated him. Bruce was one of the sweetest people I knew – didn’t have an ounce of guile in him. Do they show reruns where you are?
Ms. R. – Back in the first half of the 90s, when I was a caseworker at a residence for formerly homeless people with mental illness, one of the people I worked with was slowly dying of AIDS, cycling in and out of Cabrini Hospital with alarming regularity. Thanks to her meds, she was lucid and faced her situation with a quiet strength. She was someone that many people of strong “moral values” were all too willing to cast off, but it was an honor to know her and help her.
All of you are greatly missed.
Ari – I met him through my college’s alumni theater company, where I sometimes helped at the lighting board and backstage (once falling asleep and waking up just as I was supposed to lower the curtain…). He was a brilliantly funny actor (both in drag and out) and terrific costume designer, who also made a mean bowl of gazpacho. Ari was one of the most warmhearted, decent people that ever crossed my path and graced this planet. The stage lights are dimmer without you.
Bruce – I grew up with Bruce. He was the younger brother of my best friend, who often tagged along for whatever we were doing in the neighborhood. He came into this world with a couple of strikes against him: his mother abandoned him, he was a hemophiliac, and was learning disabled. But he was lucky enough to become part of my friend’s family, the 13th child in their household (11 by birth, two adopted). His passion was Star Trek, and he could quote whole episodes verbatim. Spock particularly fascinated him. Bruce was one of the sweetest people I knew – didn’t have an ounce of guile in him. Do they show reruns where you are?
Ms. R. – Back in the first half of the 90s, when I was a caseworker at a residence for formerly homeless people with mental illness, one of the people I worked with was slowly dying of AIDS, cycling in and out of Cabrini Hospital with alarming regularity. Thanks to her meds, she was lucid and faced her situation with a quiet strength. She was someone that many people of strong “moral values” were all too willing to cast off, but it was an honor to know her and help her.
All of you are greatly missed.
posted by Steve from Moon | 7:21 AM
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