Every two years or so UFMCC holds a General Conference and, in 1985, Toronto was the host. One of the people attending from MCCVancouver was Michel. He never seemed to have much money so he could not afford a Greyhound ticket - let alone one by train or by air. The answer was for him to travel with me in my car and we take camping gear with us.
Both he and I had traveled across Canada more than once so we opted to drive across the US. We drove down to Everett, Washington and then east along US Route 2.
On that first evening we were in Spokane where the city's main campground is down in the valley on the banks of the Columbia River. The date was July 4 and, as we settled into our sleeping bags, the sounds around us made me think that we were in a war zone - firecrackers, rockets and the like everywhere! However, we did manage to sleep and, in the morning, we looked for a restaurant serving breakfast and then continued on driving - this time on route I-90.
Into Idaho, through Couer d'Alene and then quickly into Montana through Missoula, Butte, Bozeman and Billings - all names which were familiar to me due to my love of geography. We camped near to the latter city.
The following morning we passed the turnoff to the Little Bighorn Battle Monument which I would have loved to have visited but my travel companion did not share my love of history so he was not interested - he just wanted to get to Toronto. The Interstate took us around the badlands in South Dakota but we did not stop there either - just kept on driving to Sioux Falls where we located another campground.
We did go into that city and, after some searching, found the local gay bar. There was a formidable looking lesbian who was bar tending to whom I commented that we had difficulty in finding the place. Her response? "It's supposed to be difficult to find!" Sioux Falls is not a major city and it is situated in conservative farming/ranching country.
Our night there was NOT restful - the campground was in the middle of a freeway interchange so there were the sounds of motor vehicles - especially large trucks - all night long.
The next day was Wednesday and we drove on across Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois and the tip of Indiana on our way into Michigan. We passed by Chicago near the rush hour but kept to the 'Ring Road' which did somewhat cut down on the congestion. By the time it was dusk we pulled into a motel in Benton Harbor for a more comfortable night. On the following day we drove across Michigan, crossed into Ontario at Windsor, and continued on to Toronto.
By this time the Fellowship had grown to a size that merited more facilities than in 1981 when I attended in Houston. The general meetings were held in the larger lecture halls on the campus of the University of Toronto which were air conditioned. The evening services, though, were held in the older St Paul's/Trinity United Church on Bloor Street West. There were hundreds of delegates and friends at the Conference so the main floor of the church was full and the overflow were up in the balcony. It was so hot that some people fainted and it became common to see an ambulance parked on the side street outside waiting in case somebody else had to be rushed to the hospital.
Because of the heat, the final service was moved to an auditorium in the OISE Building (Ontario Institute for Studies in Education) which was air conditioned.
Arrangements had been made for billeting the delegates and I shared a room in Annersley Hall (a United Church of Canada residence which is on the campus of Victoria College - one of the 'church colleges' associated with the university).
Ironically, that building is just down the block from where I have been living for these past 15 years.
Before leaving home I had received a letter from the Pastor of the MCC congregation in Auckland, New Zealand asking me if he and his partner could be hosted for a few days in Vancouver while on their way back across the Pacific. I invited them to join Michel and I on our camping trip to Vancouver. We acquired another tent and two more sleeping bags to accommodate them.
The Pastor was a nice man - but his young partner was a spoiled brat! While in Toronto we had gone up to the top of the CN Tower and, on the final Saturday of the Conference, Michel and I took them down to Niagara Falls for the afternoon. The young one got into one of his frequent snits and threatened to leave and walk over one of the bridges to Buffalo. I thought, "Yeah sure! Lots of luck, kid, in getting across the border!"
Monday arrived and we left for the long drive home. I went up highways 11 and 17 to the shores of Lake Superior. We found a camping site along the shore where we spent the night - and went for a dip in the warm water. I had driven past Lake Superior more than once but that was the only time that I have actually stopped along the way to enjoy the spot. The dip was very refreshing.
On the second day we drove west northwest to a campground in the vicinity of Kenora, Ontario - and the home of voracious mosquitoes. We swatted away and survived.
The third day was a shorter drive to Winnipeg and then on across the Prairies. As I mentioned much earlier in these writings, that region of Canada can be hit by fairly violent summer storms. As we were following the Trans-Canada Highway in Saskatchewan we encountered a series of them - continuous flashes of lightning, deafening thunder, torrential rain (occasionally mixed with hail) and strong winds.
The Trans Canada Highway rarely passes through any of the towns but is now situated a mile or two north or south with signage and access roads connecting the highway to the settlements. Where an access road met the highway we saw a car that had been towing a trailer/caravan - the latter was on its side.
The next morning, on a radio newscast, we heard that there was a tornado in the area of that accident and it resulted in the overturned trailer. That is the only time in my life that I have been in close proximity to a tornado (and I hope that that will be the only time).
Back in Vancouver the World Council of Churches had commenced meetings on the campus of UBC and two very famous clergymen attended. One was the Rev Ian Paisley from Belfast, Northern Ireland - and the second was Archbishop Desmond Tutu from South Africa. I had no intention of listening to Ian Paisley but I feel honored to have been able to hear the Archbishop. What a lovely and gracious man!
You may have come to the conclusion that I love traveling and meeting various people? Well - I do!
Wednesday, 28 December 2011
Tuesday, 27 December 2011
Geoff and Terry
In this submission I plan to write about two men who became close friends (of mine and of each other) over a period of about ten years.
Geoff had a university degree in Environmental Sciences and he was a part of the crew which studied the possible environmental impact of Trans-Canada pipelines - from the Prairies out to B.C., and eastward to Ontario and Quebec. He was a gay man and identified with the leather/levi community and he was an integral member of the Zodiacs mentioned in a previous blog.
He was a great guy but with one trait which bugged me - he was quite predatory. If he saw a new and interesting face in the Gay Community he would set off in pursuit whether the other man was attached to somebody else or not.
He was a pretty good cook, though - he baked his own bread and, for a number of years, he invited folks to partake of his Christmas dinner. Always it was so very English and quite delicious.
It was during the 1980s when pipeline construction was at its height that he flew East on Sunday evening returning to Vancouver on Friday evening. I was the one designated to drive out to the airport to pick him up and, sometimes, he had one or two others in tow - especially politicians who were returning from Ottawa for the weekend. One evening my passenger in the front seat beside me was the Honorable Pat Carney who was a Cabinet Minister in a Tory government. While both Geoff and I lived in the West End, Ms. Carney lived just around English Bay in Kitsilano.
Geoff wrote and published a book titled "The Urban Aboriginal" which is a study of the 'Leather/Levi' sub-culture within the Gay Community. Near the beginning of the book I found a quote from myself and, upon reading it, I felt flattered!
Geoff Mains and myself standing in front of the ruins of St Johns United Church in the West End which had been destroyed in a fire.
In the mid-1980s Geoff moved to San Francisco to be beside the perceived center of the leather/levi sub-culture in North America. I stayed at Geoff's place on at least one visit to San Francisco.
He passed away from an AIDS-related condition towards the end of the 1980s.
Terry and I met in an unusual way - I was in San Francisco to attend a leather/levi function and those functions attracted large crowds always. I was making my way from one part of the venue to another when something - or somebody - distracted me so I wasn't watching where I was going - and walked right into Terry. I stopped to apologize and our friendship began right there.
+.JPG)
Terry Kotas standing on the Seawall (Stanley Park) with the suburb of West Vancouver in the background.
Terry was the only child of a couple who lived in Green Bay, Wisconsin where they managed a small company which distributed packaged condiments and spices to stores in that area.
After a few visits with me - and with Geoff - Terry decided to send his parents on a tour of the Canadian Rockies ending up in Vancouver. He asked if I would meet them and take them touring around the city? I agreed.
They were an absolutely delightful couple. I took them on a circular tour (on a very rainy November Saturday afternoon) around Vancouver. We went west through Kitsilano out to the University of British Columbia, where I pointed out some notable buildings, around Point Grey and along Southwest Marine Drive to Marpole and then back downtown via Little Mountain and the exquisite sunken gardens in Queen Elizabeth Park.
Mrs Kotas had told me - near the beginning of the drive - that she and her husband would take me out to dinner to my favorite restaurant. There was one excellent Gay-owned and operated restaurant near the downtown core so I drove them there.
When we entered the restaurant I neglected to ask if my favorite French-Canadian waiter was working and if we could have a table in his section. We lucked out - he was working and we were in his section.
When the meal ended Mr Kotas paid the tab and left a generous tip. As his business had to do with restaurant supplies, he stopped to 'talk shop' with the manager. In the meantime our waiter passed by and Mrs. Kotas stopped him to say, "Marcel - you are the most wonderful waiter!". Without batting an eye he grabbed her hand, kissed the back of it and said, "Madame, with customers as lovely as you are it is easy!"
Mrs Kotas was a short dumpy lady in late middle-age and I thought that she was about to swoon!
A year or so later Terry went on a visit to Spain where he contracted meningitis and died.
Geoff had a university degree in Environmental Sciences and he was a part of the crew which studied the possible environmental impact of Trans-Canada pipelines - from the Prairies out to B.C., and eastward to Ontario and Quebec. He was a gay man and identified with the leather/levi community and he was an integral member of the Zodiacs mentioned in a previous blog.
He was a great guy but with one trait which bugged me - he was quite predatory. If he saw a new and interesting face in the Gay Community he would set off in pursuit whether the other man was attached to somebody else or not.
He was a pretty good cook, though - he baked his own bread and, for a number of years, he invited folks to partake of his Christmas dinner. Always it was so very English and quite delicious.
It was during the 1980s when pipeline construction was at its height that he flew East on Sunday evening returning to Vancouver on Friday evening. I was the one designated to drive out to the airport to pick him up and, sometimes, he had one or two others in tow - especially politicians who were returning from Ottawa for the weekend. One evening my passenger in the front seat beside me was the Honorable Pat Carney who was a Cabinet Minister in a Tory government. While both Geoff and I lived in the West End, Ms. Carney lived just around English Bay in Kitsilano.
Geoff wrote and published a book titled "The Urban Aboriginal" which is a study of the 'Leather/Levi' sub-culture within the Gay Community. Near the beginning of the book I found a quote from myself and, upon reading it, I felt flattered!
In the mid-1980s Geoff moved to San Francisco to be beside the perceived center of the leather/levi sub-culture in North America. I stayed at Geoff's place on at least one visit to San Francisco.
He passed away from an AIDS-related condition towards the end of the 1980s.
Terry and I met in an unusual way - I was in San Francisco to attend a leather/levi function and those functions attracted large crowds always. I was making my way from one part of the venue to another when something - or somebody - distracted me so I wasn't watching where I was going - and walked right into Terry. I stopped to apologize and our friendship began right there.
+.JPG)
Terry Kotas standing on the Seawall (Stanley Park) with the suburb of West Vancouver in the background.
Terry was the only child of a couple who lived in Green Bay, Wisconsin where they managed a small company which distributed packaged condiments and spices to stores in that area.
After a few visits with me - and with Geoff - Terry decided to send his parents on a tour of the Canadian Rockies ending up in Vancouver. He asked if I would meet them and take them touring around the city? I agreed.
They were an absolutely delightful couple. I took them on a circular tour (on a very rainy November Saturday afternoon) around Vancouver. We went west through Kitsilano out to the University of British Columbia, where I pointed out some notable buildings, around Point Grey and along Southwest Marine Drive to Marpole and then back downtown via Little Mountain and the exquisite sunken gardens in Queen Elizabeth Park.
Mrs Kotas had told me - near the beginning of the drive - that she and her husband would take me out to dinner to my favorite restaurant. There was one excellent Gay-owned and operated restaurant near the downtown core so I drove them there.
When we entered the restaurant I neglected to ask if my favorite French-Canadian waiter was working and if we could have a table in his section. We lucked out - he was working and we were in his section.
When the meal ended Mr Kotas paid the tab and left a generous tip. As his business had to do with restaurant supplies, he stopped to 'talk shop' with the manager. In the meantime our waiter passed by and Mrs. Kotas stopped him to say, "Marcel - you are the most wonderful waiter!". Without batting an eye he grabbed her hand, kissed the back of it and said, "Madame, with customers as lovely as you are it is easy!"
Mrs Kotas was a short dumpy lady in late middle-age and I thought that she was about to swoon!
A year or so later Terry went on a visit to Spain where he contracted meningitis and died.
Monday, 26 December 2011
Kansas City
The next General Council Meeting that was not in California was in Kansas City, Missouri. This was in early spring and the weather made this visit memorable!
I flew from Vancouver to Denver, changed aircraft, and flew on to Kansas City. Bev Baptiste - the Pastor of the Winnipeg congregation - was there as well. Each of we attendees were billeted among members of the KC congregation and Bev and I were sent to the same home on the east side of the city - about a half hour bus ride from the church where the meetings were convened.
Our hosts - a lesbian couple - welcomed us and then left. They and their children were going to visit family outside of the city for that week.
All well and good - except that an ice storm swept through the area causing power failures plus icy conditions on roads and sidewalks. Bev and I were given separate rooms to sleep in which were freezing much of the time (the furnace was electrically turned off and on so, with no power, it was off all of the time).
The state of the weather in that part of North America was so severe that it was reported on the news across the continent. My roommate and his partner heard about it and telephoned MCC Kansas City to see if I was OK!
However, we did survive and did attend the meetings.
The church was a large one and was located in a part of the city that had become inhabited by mainly black people - the major street in that area was lined by shops and restaurants operated by blacks. On our last day there it was suggested that we patronize a restaurant on that strip that some of the others had discovered (a couple of our group were black Americans) and we went there.
We were welcomed by the proprietors and staff, given menus and we selected our orders.
None of the items on the menu itself seemed to be a complete meal but were items which we were free to combine in whatever way that struck our fancy. There were a few items of which I had never heard before but I did recognize some from having heard of them - or read of them in books.
That meal was delicious, memorable - and fun!
While we were eating other patrons did come in but, as our group was fairly large, there were no more vacant tables.
Yes - I did get across the state line to the twin Kansas City. A member of the Kansas City, Missouri church took us to a lovely family restaurant for Sunday brunch over there.
On Monday we returned to our various homes.
However, the weather conditions remained a problem. My ticket was, naturally, the reverse of the outward bound one - Kansas City to Denver to Vancouver. Because of the stormy weather in and around Denver, the outbound flight to KC was late which meant that the flight from Denver to Vancouver would leave without me. I had the telephone number of a Denver friend on me so I thought that I would call him from the airport (this was when the main airport for Denver was still Stapleton on the west side of the city - now it is a huge newer airport out on the plains to the east).
When we landed in Denver I went to the United Airlines counter to see about my ticket and a switch if necessary. However, there was a larger jet leaving for Seattle in a couple of hours. I changed my ticket to that flight. The aircraft was far from being full so there was plenty of room for each of we passengers to sit by ourselves and to take advantage of an entire seat on which to rest and to doze.
While waiting to board this aircraft in Denver, I began a conversation with another younger man who was on his way to Bellingham, Washington. I had telephoned my roommate in Vancouver to ask him to drive down to Seattle to pick me up and I offered a lift to Bellingham (which is about 15 - 20 miles south of the border) to the other fellow.
It was the middle of the night but we had a pleasant drive before dropping off our passenger at his home.
The border crossing was quick and easy so we were back home in Vancouver just as morning was breaking.
I flew from Vancouver to Denver, changed aircraft, and flew on to Kansas City. Bev Baptiste - the Pastor of the Winnipeg congregation - was there as well. Each of we attendees were billeted among members of the KC congregation and Bev and I were sent to the same home on the east side of the city - about a half hour bus ride from the church where the meetings were convened.
Our hosts - a lesbian couple - welcomed us and then left. They and their children were going to visit family outside of the city for that week.
All well and good - except that an ice storm swept through the area causing power failures plus icy conditions on roads and sidewalks. Bev and I were given separate rooms to sleep in which were freezing much of the time (the furnace was electrically turned off and on so, with no power, it was off all of the time).
The state of the weather in that part of North America was so severe that it was reported on the news across the continent. My roommate and his partner heard about it and telephoned MCC Kansas City to see if I was OK!
However, we did survive and did attend the meetings.
The church was a large one and was located in a part of the city that had become inhabited by mainly black people - the major street in that area was lined by shops and restaurants operated by blacks. On our last day there it was suggested that we patronize a restaurant on that strip that some of the others had discovered (a couple of our group were black Americans) and we went there.
We were welcomed by the proprietors and staff, given menus and we selected our orders.
None of the items on the menu itself seemed to be a complete meal but were items which we were free to combine in whatever way that struck our fancy. There were a few items of which I had never heard before but I did recognize some from having heard of them - or read of them in books.
That meal was delicious, memorable - and fun!
While we were eating other patrons did come in but, as our group was fairly large, there were no more vacant tables.
Yes - I did get across the state line to the twin Kansas City. A member of the Kansas City, Missouri church took us to a lovely family restaurant for Sunday brunch over there.
On Monday we returned to our various homes.
However, the weather conditions remained a problem. My ticket was, naturally, the reverse of the outward bound one - Kansas City to Denver to Vancouver. Because of the stormy weather in and around Denver, the outbound flight to KC was late which meant that the flight from Denver to Vancouver would leave without me. I had the telephone number of a Denver friend on me so I thought that I would call him from the airport (this was when the main airport for Denver was still Stapleton on the west side of the city - now it is a huge newer airport out on the plains to the east).
When we landed in Denver I went to the United Airlines counter to see about my ticket and a switch if necessary. However, there was a larger jet leaving for Seattle in a couple of hours. I changed my ticket to that flight. The aircraft was far from being full so there was plenty of room for each of we passengers to sit by ourselves and to take advantage of an entire seat on which to rest and to doze.
While waiting to board this aircraft in Denver, I began a conversation with another younger man who was on his way to Bellingham, Washington. I had telephoned my roommate in Vancouver to ask him to drive down to Seattle to pick me up and I offered a lift to Bellingham (which is about 15 - 20 miles south of the border) to the other fellow.
It was the middle of the night but we had a pleasant drive before dropping off our passenger at his home.
The border crossing was quick and easy so we were back home in Vancouver just as morning was breaking.
Friday, 23 December 2011
Fort Lauderdale and Fort Myers.
As the Fellowship grew and more congregations were added, the General Council was called upon to meet fairly frequently. By this time the Fort Lauderdale, Florida congregation had grown to be a fair size, they owned their own property, and they had rooms for meetings and the like.
It was in February in the early 1980s that a meeting was called and Nigel - our Treasurer in Western Canada - and I had to find a way to get there. In the travel section of the Vancouver Sun I saw an ad for reduced fares on American Airlines so I went to a nearby agency to book the tickets.
The agent whom I saw was a gay acquaintance - and he had not heard of the discount prices offered by American Airlines! However, when he went online, he saw that I was correct. However - there was one problem - American Airlines did not serve Vancouver so we had to book the tickets out of SeaTac Airport in Seattle.
The flight was from Seattle to Dallas where we had to change aircraft. What made that interesting was the fact that the air terminal in Dallas was being renovated so we were forced to wait in a narrow corridor before we could board the second plane. Fortunately, there was a plate glass window opposite to where we were standing so we could watch the servicing of the aircraft that we were about to board.
We arrived in Miami near midnight and had to catch a shuttle bus to Fort Lauderdale where we were met by our hosts. I stayed with an acquaintance who lived on the west side of the city. While there was a public transportation system in Fort Lauderdale, I never saw a bus and had to rely upon others to chauffeur me around. As I had encountered a similar situation in Houston, I wondered if bus stop signs and benches were merely a part of the decor in southern US cities?
As my birthday falls in mid-February, I was looking forward to treating myself to a day on one of the famous beaches. The weather forecast - thunderstorms with possible tornadoes - squashed that.
The meetings came to a successful conclusion and we flew home via Miami - Dallas - Seattle (where Nigel had left his car) and a quick drive home.
A year or so later was another meeting at the church in Fort Lauderdale. This time I flew alone and on United Airlines through O'Hare Airport in Chicago. As the plane was making its descent into Chicago a flight attendant read a list of the gates where ongoing passengers were to go for the continuation of their trips. However - she left out one - my flight on to Fort Lauderdale. I had to look at the monitors when I was in the terminal, find my flight and then the gate. I was the last person to get on that plane - the closest that I have ever come to missing a flight.
At previous meetings I had become friends with Troy Perry's cousin, the Rev Lee Carlton, who was the District Coordinator for South Florida. The previous time that I had seen him he invited me to take a vacation week to visit with him and his partner in Fort Myers.
This time the location of the meetings had moved from the church to the Holiday Inn on 'Alligator Alley' on the west side of town. The Holiday Inn had a restaurant but another delegate and I opted for breakfast at a truck stop immediately across that highway - grits were served there! However, there were no traffic lights nor pedestrian crossings nearby so we had to take the risk of dashing across the two lane highway when there were breaks in the traffic. We weren't hit.
After the Conference I rode with Lee westward along 'Alligator Alley' to Naples and then north to Fort Meyers. At long last I was being given the opportunity of seeing the Everglades up close - only most of the route was across the saw grass plain - we did not see any part of the Everglades until we were close to the west side of the peninsula and near Naples.
On a visit to a gay bar in Lauderdale I met one of the members of Lee's congregation in Fort Meyers. Instead of staying for much of the week with Lee and his partner, I stayed at the home of the other man. He was a native of the area (and the Director of the County Art Gallery) so he was a very informative host.
He took me everywhere - including to the off-shore island of Santabel and one or two others. I was impressed by the large signs along the highways telling motorists that it was a 'hurricane evacuation route'. That was important to know if a hurricane was threatening that area.
My host parked his car near the wooden bridges that crossed the waterways and we walked over. This afforded me a magnificent view of the waterfowl many of which were far more exotic looking than those found in our northern climate. For instance, that was the only place - outside of a zoo - where I saw a flamingo.
One day Lee and his partner took me on a picnic to a small river between Fort Meyers and Naples where we rented a canoe. We paddled up this little river towards a mangrove swamp. We were laughing and talking as we paddled along and inadvertently startled three enormous turtles which were sunning themselves on large mangrove roots. When we came around the bend we heard the 'plops' as they dove into the cover of the water.
Lee was convinced that we would see the 'granddaddy of all alligators' when we reached the source of the stream. However - 'granddaddy-gator' was no where in sight. We paddled back to where we rented the canoe and, when we reached the large mangrove root, one of the turtles was back on its perch. Again it dove into the water as we approached.
We had brought a picnic lunch with us so we sat on a bench up above the canoe rental to enjoy the food. While eating we saw a medium-sized alligator swimming upstream - the trip was not a complete loss!
While I was there Lee had to make pastoral calls on a couple of congregations to the north and he took me along. The furthest north that we went was to Bradenton - a name that I knew from baseball's 'Spring Training' and - also - as the winter headquarters of one of the great circuses that used to travel around North America every summer.
Soon the vacation was over and I had to fly back to Vancouver.
It was in February in the early 1980s that a meeting was called and Nigel - our Treasurer in Western Canada - and I had to find a way to get there. In the travel section of the Vancouver Sun I saw an ad for reduced fares on American Airlines so I went to a nearby agency to book the tickets.
The agent whom I saw was a gay acquaintance - and he had not heard of the discount prices offered by American Airlines! However, when he went online, he saw that I was correct. However - there was one problem - American Airlines did not serve Vancouver so we had to book the tickets out of SeaTac Airport in Seattle.
The flight was from Seattle to Dallas where we had to change aircraft. What made that interesting was the fact that the air terminal in Dallas was being renovated so we were forced to wait in a narrow corridor before we could board the second plane. Fortunately, there was a plate glass window opposite to where we were standing so we could watch the servicing of the aircraft that we were about to board.
We arrived in Miami near midnight and had to catch a shuttle bus to Fort Lauderdale where we were met by our hosts. I stayed with an acquaintance who lived on the west side of the city. While there was a public transportation system in Fort Lauderdale, I never saw a bus and had to rely upon others to chauffeur me around. As I had encountered a similar situation in Houston, I wondered if bus stop signs and benches were merely a part of the decor in southern US cities?
As my birthday falls in mid-February, I was looking forward to treating myself to a day on one of the famous beaches. The weather forecast - thunderstorms with possible tornadoes - squashed that.
The meetings came to a successful conclusion and we flew home via Miami - Dallas - Seattle (where Nigel had left his car) and a quick drive home.
A year or so later was another meeting at the church in Fort Lauderdale. This time I flew alone and on United Airlines through O'Hare Airport in Chicago. As the plane was making its descent into Chicago a flight attendant read a list of the gates where ongoing passengers were to go for the continuation of their trips. However - she left out one - my flight on to Fort Lauderdale. I had to look at the monitors when I was in the terminal, find my flight and then the gate. I was the last person to get on that plane - the closest that I have ever come to missing a flight.
At previous meetings I had become friends with Troy Perry's cousin, the Rev Lee Carlton, who was the District Coordinator for South Florida. The previous time that I had seen him he invited me to take a vacation week to visit with him and his partner in Fort Myers.
This time the location of the meetings had moved from the church to the Holiday Inn on 'Alligator Alley' on the west side of town. The Holiday Inn had a restaurant but another delegate and I opted for breakfast at a truck stop immediately across that highway - grits were served there! However, there were no traffic lights nor pedestrian crossings nearby so we had to take the risk of dashing across the two lane highway when there were breaks in the traffic. We weren't hit.
After the Conference I rode with Lee westward along 'Alligator Alley' to Naples and then north to Fort Meyers. At long last I was being given the opportunity of seeing the Everglades up close - only most of the route was across the saw grass plain - we did not see any part of the Everglades until we were close to the west side of the peninsula and near Naples.
On a visit to a gay bar in Lauderdale I met one of the members of Lee's congregation in Fort Meyers. Instead of staying for much of the week with Lee and his partner, I stayed at the home of the other man. He was a native of the area (and the Director of the County Art Gallery) so he was a very informative host.
He took me everywhere - including to the off-shore island of Santabel and one or two others. I was impressed by the large signs along the highways telling motorists that it was a 'hurricane evacuation route'. That was important to know if a hurricane was threatening that area.
My host parked his car near the wooden bridges that crossed the waterways and we walked over. This afforded me a magnificent view of the waterfowl many of which were far more exotic looking than those found in our northern climate. For instance, that was the only place - outside of a zoo - where I saw a flamingo.
One day Lee and his partner took me on a picnic to a small river between Fort Meyers and Naples where we rented a canoe. We paddled up this little river towards a mangrove swamp. We were laughing and talking as we paddled along and inadvertently startled three enormous turtles which were sunning themselves on large mangrove roots. When we came around the bend we heard the 'plops' as they dove into the cover of the water.
Lee was convinced that we would see the 'granddaddy of all alligators' when we reached the source of the stream. However - 'granddaddy-gator' was no where in sight. We paddled back to where we rented the canoe and, when we reached the large mangrove root, one of the turtles was back on its perch. Again it dove into the water as we approached.
We had brought a picnic lunch with us so we sat on a bench up above the canoe rental to enjoy the food. While eating we saw a medium-sized alligator swimming upstream - the trip was not a complete loss!
While I was there Lee had to make pastoral calls on a couple of congregations to the north and he took me along. The furthest north that we went was to Bradenton - a name that I knew from baseball's 'Spring Training' and - also - as the winter headquarters of one of the great circuses that used to travel around North America every summer.
Soon the vacation was over and I had to fly back to Vancouver.
Wednesday, 21 December 2011
District Coordinator
As the Universal Fellowship of Metropolitan Community Churches (UFMCC) grew, at the same time there grew a need for regional governance. To answer this need, 'Districts' were created and each had a coordinator.
While there were only three congregations in Western Canada - Edmonton, Calgary and Vancouver - it was considered to be a 'District' due to the distance between those cities.
The man who was District Coordinator when I became Pastor of the Vancouver congregation resigned a year or so later and I was telephoned at home by the Rev. Elder Troy Perry who asked me if I would assume the role. I was surprised by the request but agreed. This meant that I had a supervisory role when it came to the three existing congregations. Also it meant that I was expected to attend meetings of the Board of Elders and District Coordinators and General Conferences as well as trouble shooting when problems arose in the three existing churches.
My first trip out of town in that capacity was to go to Calgary for a weekend visit and in the company of the District Treasurer - another Vancouver man. Our flight from Vancouver to Calgary was on Saturday morning and our Air Canada flight left at the same time as a flight to Montreal. When we arrived in Calgary my friend's luggage arrived at the baggage carousel but mine did not - it had gone to Montreal.
What was so funny was that there was a 'Hoedown' scheduled that evening at which I was expected to be. I was wearing a suit and tie while my casual clothes were in the missing suitcase! Not to worry, the Pastor of the Calgary church - while a woman - was my size so she outfitted me in a pair of her jeans and plaid shirt! I felt silly but I don't think that anybody really noticed.
Following that were a number of trips to Calgary and Edmonton and - when the church was formed there - to Winnipeg over the following few years.
At the same time I began flying with some regularity to Conferences in San Francisco and Los Angeles. On one of the latter trips the conference was moved to a gay resort in Cathedral City - a part of the Palm Springs metropolitan area. For that conference a roomy van/bus had been rented which Troy Perry drove out there from the Los Angeles office. As we got underway I couldn't resist quipping, "I wonder if the Pope drives the Cardinals to meetings too?"
On one of those trips - when I went to proceed through US Customs and Immigration at the Vancouver International Airport - I was denied entry to the US until I was interviewed by a US Immigration Supervisor. I thought that I had encountered some bigotry (my sexual preference had been guessed) but the senior official snorted and passed me on through.
For some meetings in Los Angeles (the Holiday Inn by the Grauman Chinese Theater in Hollywood), I drove down. On one of those trips I had a young lesbian couple traveling with me and they borrowed my car in order to visit relatives while I was at the meetings. On our way back we stopped in San Francisco too so they could enjoy a day or two in that famous city.
During that time Troy Perry set out to film the story of UFMCC. In Vancouver I had met a young man - Greg Coutts - who had a background in filming so I spoke to Troy about him and to Greg about Troy. Troy was coming to Vancouver on one of his visits so it was arranged that I would introduce them to each other at a gay bar (The Shaggy Horse).
This bar had been a restaurant before that incarnation so it had a mezzanine level with tables from where patrons could look down on the main floor. From the entrance off of the street there was a lobby area on the side of which was the coat check.
The main serving bar was down a few steps and, beyond it, was the main seating area and a small dance floor. On weekend nights - when the bar was the busiest - patrons were asked to avoid the crush around the serving bar by going up stairs, walking to the rear, and then down a second staircase to the rear of the dance floor across which one could walk to the main bar and 'cruising area'.
Troy and I were there before Greg arrived and, when he did, he went upstairs while looking down to see if he could spot me. Troy was standing beside me and each spotted the other. I did not have to make introductions as they gravitated to each other automatically.
The film was created and released and then, on a long weekend a year or so later, Greg was asked to house sit for some friends while they were out of town. When they returned they were shocked to find Greg dead - as I, Troy and everybody else was shocked.
Greg's funeral was held at MCC-Vancouver and was well attended. I believe that Troy told me later the result of the autopsy but I do not remember what the cause of death was deemed to be.
There were three other extended trips that I took while I was District Coordinator. I will describe them in the next two blogs.
While there were only three congregations in Western Canada - Edmonton, Calgary and Vancouver - it was considered to be a 'District' due to the distance between those cities.
The man who was District Coordinator when I became Pastor of the Vancouver congregation resigned a year or so later and I was telephoned at home by the Rev. Elder Troy Perry who asked me if I would assume the role. I was surprised by the request but agreed. This meant that I had a supervisory role when it came to the three existing congregations. Also it meant that I was expected to attend meetings of the Board of Elders and District Coordinators and General Conferences as well as trouble shooting when problems arose in the three existing churches.
My first trip out of town in that capacity was to go to Calgary for a weekend visit and in the company of the District Treasurer - another Vancouver man. Our flight from Vancouver to Calgary was on Saturday morning and our Air Canada flight left at the same time as a flight to Montreal. When we arrived in Calgary my friend's luggage arrived at the baggage carousel but mine did not - it had gone to Montreal.
What was so funny was that there was a 'Hoedown' scheduled that evening at which I was expected to be. I was wearing a suit and tie while my casual clothes were in the missing suitcase! Not to worry, the Pastor of the Calgary church - while a woman - was my size so she outfitted me in a pair of her jeans and plaid shirt! I felt silly but I don't think that anybody really noticed.
Following that were a number of trips to Calgary and Edmonton and - when the church was formed there - to Winnipeg over the following few years.
At the same time I began flying with some regularity to Conferences in San Francisco and Los Angeles. On one of the latter trips the conference was moved to a gay resort in Cathedral City - a part of the Palm Springs metropolitan area. For that conference a roomy van/bus had been rented which Troy Perry drove out there from the Los Angeles office. As we got underway I couldn't resist quipping, "I wonder if the Pope drives the Cardinals to meetings too?"
On one of those trips - when I went to proceed through US Customs and Immigration at the Vancouver International Airport - I was denied entry to the US until I was interviewed by a US Immigration Supervisor. I thought that I had encountered some bigotry (my sexual preference had been guessed) but the senior official snorted and passed me on through.
For some meetings in Los Angeles (the Holiday Inn by the Grauman Chinese Theater in Hollywood), I drove down. On one of those trips I had a young lesbian couple traveling with me and they borrowed my car in order to visit relatives while I was at the meetings. On our way back we stopped in San Francisco too so they could enjoy a day or two in that famous city.
During that time Troy Perry set out to film the story of UFMCC. In Vancouver I had met a young man - Greg Coutts - who had a background in filming so I spoke to Troy about him and to Greg about Troy. Troy was coming to Vancouver on one of his visits so it was arranged that I would introduce them to each other at a gay bar (The Shaggy Horse).
This bar had been a restaurant before that incarnation so it had a mezzanine level with tables from where patrons could look down on the main floor. From the entrance off of the street there was a lobby area on the side of which was the coat check.
The main serving bar was down a few steps and, beyond it, was the main seating area and a small dance floor. On weekend nights - when the bar was the busiest - patrons were asked to avoid the crush around the serving bar by going up stairs, walking to the rear, and then down a second staircase to the rear of the dance floor across which one could walk to the main bar and 'cruising area'.
Troy and I were there before Greg arrived and, when he did, he went upstairs while looking down to see if he could spot me. Troy was standing beside me and each spotted the other. I did not have to make introductions as they gravitated to each other automatically.
The film was created and released and then, on a long weekend a year or so later, Greg was asked to house sit for some friends while they were out of town. When they returned they were shocked to find Greg dead - as I, Troy and everybody else was shocked.
Greg's funeral was held at MCC-Vancouver and was well attended. I believe that Troy told me later the result of the autopsy but I do not remember what the cause of death was deemed to be.
There were three other extended trips that I took while I was District Coordinator. I will describe them in the next two blogs.
Monday, 19 December 2011
Community
Community is a group of people living (existing) in a common bond with each other - more or less.
Community can be the neighborhood where we live, it can be a common ethnicity, it can be a commonly held belief system - there are many factors which describe a community. Thanks to the 'AIDS Crisis' a 'community' was formed - and it consisted of a number of other communities (Drag, Leather/Levi, Lesbian, Transgender, Intersex, Queer, Questioning and others}. Also, I should mentioned 'Allies' as well for, without their support, would we have come through those years as well as we did?
The Metropolitan Community Churches did become a focus for the care, the support and the funerals that we did face - and are facing. In that - at least in Vancouver - we had strong allies. There was Integrity (LGBT Anglicans), Affirm (LGBT United Church folk) and Dignity (LGBT Roman Catholics) and each of these groups had/have strong non-LGBT supporters.
While the Roman Catholic Archbishop was not supportive, there was a strong Dignity chapter which met at St Paul's Roman Catholic Church - a small house of worship located in Gastown and pastored by a priest of the Franciscan Order. Attached to that church were a group of nuns who were Franciscans as well. The priest who gave his blessing to the Dignity Chapter was Father Celestine. Every so often I was invited to attend one of their meetings and to partake in the Mass. If I shied away from accepting the host and the cup, Father Cel would chide me.
Unfortunately, Father Cel's health was not the best so he retired to the 'Mother House' in Upper New York State. A younger priest was appointed to that parish and, while he was a nice man, he did not approve of me - nor any other non-Catholic - receiving the sacraments. It is sad how old customs/bigotry can get in the way.
The MCC Pastor at the church in San Diego, California organized an AIDS Vigil on one weekend and the idea caught on.
By that time the location used by MCC Vancouver for Sunday worship had changed to St Paul's Anglican in the West End. The Rector was the Rev David Crawley and he and I became firm friends (later he was appointed 'Bishop of Kootenai' and moved to Kelowna).
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Once again the generosity of Michael W. in Vancouver has provided me with another appropriate photo. This is St Paul's Anglican/Episcopal Church in the West End and where MCCVancouver rented worship space.
Under his leadership the governing body of St Paul's offered us the use of their Chapel for the Vigil Weekend. The Chapel was in the basement and had a separate entrance directly from the street. The weekend was successful and I was very moved when I saw a group of the 'Franciscan Sisters' coming to pray and to pay their respects.
While on the subject of 'Communities' I will share about my involvement with The Zodiacs - a leather/Levi fellowship. We were a small group but we had an association 'In Brotherhood' with groups in Seattle, Portland and San Francisco.
Welcome to the Pemberton Valley where the campsite is situated
One activity which each group organized was a 'weekend camp' at which men from the other groups would attend as well. One of those was very memorable.
Somebody discovered a small campground nestled between the highway that began in North Vancouver and continued through Squamish, Whistler, Pemberton and went on to Lillooet and joined the Cariboo Highway near Cache Creek - and the railway tracks. A few miles north of Pemberton was a small pass through a mountain range. In that pass was a small meadow beside a mountain tarn and the Pacific Great Eastern (PGE) Railway. The traffic was light - both on the highway and along the railway - so we were undisturbed. We were up there from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon and we were celebrating some event when a southbound train passed through. To say that consternation was exhibited by the railway crew would be an understatement! We were just horsing around - there was nothing crude.
A field with bales of hay waiting to be moved to storage
When I was offered the position of Pastor of the MCCVancouver congregation I asked if I could plan the Service of Installation? My request was granted so I invited my brother Zodiacs to be ushers, two people from the gay First Nations group to read the opening prayer in English and in Cree, the Scripture lessons were read by representatives of the court (and 'in costume'), while the sermon was preached by a dear friend and supporter of the Gay Community. This was the Rev. Sylvia Pennington who wrote two books: "But, Lord, They're Gay", "Ex-Gays There Are None" plus a third one the title of which I cannot remember.
Different threads inter-weaving at the same time but, in my books, all valid.
Community can be the neighborhood where we live, it can be a common ethnicity, it can be a commonly held belief system - there are many factors which describe a community. Thanks to the 'AIDS Crisis' a 'community' was formed - and it consisted of a number of other communities (Drag, Leather/Levi, Lesbian, Transgender, Intersex, Queer, Questioning and others}. Also, I should mentioned 'Allies' as well for, without their support, would we have come through those years as well as we did?
The Metropolitan Community Churches did become a focus for the care, the support and the funerals that we did face - and are facing. In that - at least in Vancouver - we had strong allies. There was Integrity (LGBT Anglicans), Affirm (LGBT United Church folk) and Dignity (LGBT Roman Catholics) and each of these groups had/have strong non-LGBT supporters.
While the Roman Catholic Archbishop was not supportive, there was a strong Dignity chapter which met at St Paul's Roman Catholic Church - a small house of worship located in Gastown and pastored by a priest of the Franciscan Order. Attached to that church were a group of nuns who were Franciscans as well. The priest who gave his blessing to the Dignity Chapter was Father Celestine. Every so often I was invited to attend one of their meetings and to partake in the Mass. If I shied away from accepting the host and the cup, Father Cel would chide me.
Unfortunately, Father Cel's health was not the best so he retired to the 'Mother House' in Upper New York State. A younger priest was appointed to that parish and, while he was a nice man, he did not approve of me - nor any other non-Catholic - receiving the sacraments. It is sad how old customs/bigotry can get in the way.
The MCC Pastor at the church in San Diego, California organized an AIDS Vigil on one weekend and the idea caught on.
By that time the location used by MCC Vancouver for Sunday worship had changed to St Paul's Anglican in the West End. The Rector was the Rev David Crawley and he and I became firm friends (later he was appointed 'Bishop of Kootenai' and moved to Kelowna).
+(622+x+795).jpg)
Under his leadership the governing body of St Paul's offered us the use of their Chapel for the Vigil Weekend. The Chapel was in the basement and had a separate entrance directly from the street. The weekend was successful and I was very moved when I saw a group of the 'Franciscan Sisters' coming to pray and to pay their respects.
While on the subject of 'Communities' I will share about my involvement with The Zodiacs - a leather/Levi fellowship. We were a small group but we had an association 'In Brotherhood' with groups in Seattle, Portland and San Francisco.
Welcome to the Pemberton Valley where the campsite is situated
One activity which each group organized was a 'weekend camp' at which men from the other groups would attend as well. One of those was very memorable.
Somebody discovered a small campground nestled between the highway that began in North Vancouver and continued through Squamish, Whistler, Pemberton and went on to Lillooet and joined the Cariboo Highway near Cache Creek - and the railway tracks. A few miles north of Pemberton was a small pass through a mountain range. In that pass was a small meadow beside a mountain tarn and the Pacific Great Eastern (PGE) Railway. The traffic was light - both on the highway and along the railway - so we were undisturbed. We were up there from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon and we were celebrating some event when a southbound train passed through. To say that consternation was exhibited by the railway crew would be an understatement! We were just horsing around - there was nothing crude.
When I was offered the position of Pastor of the MCCVancouver congregation I asked if I could plan the Service of Installation? My request was granted so I invited my brother Zodiacs to be ushers, two people from the gay First Nations group to read the opening prayer in English and in Cree, the Scripture lessons were read by representatives of the court (and 'in costume'), while the sermon was preached by a dear friend and supporter of the Gay Community. This was the Rev. Sylvia Pennington who wrote two books: "But, Lord, They're Gay", "Ex-Gays There Are None" plus a third one the title of which I cannot remember.
Different threads inter-weaving at the same time but, in my books, all valid.
Saturday, 17 December 2011
AIDS Crisis
It was in the late 1970s or early 1980s when gay men started to become ill from a 'mysterious virus' and all sorts of rumors sprang up. Soon, though, it was determined that the virus was HIV. For years the source of that virus remained a mystery and all sorts of 'conspiracy theories' became common - not the least of which was that German scientists during the Nazi era had created it in order to 'wipe out' undesirables like Black people.
Yes, it developed first in Africa and was spread by biting insects and did affect the native African population more than any other - but it was NOT a 'conspiracy' but a new viral strain.
In North America and Europe it did impact the Gay male communities more than any other - but was not confined to that demographic despite the claims of religious fundamentalists!
The virus soon had an impact upon the Gay Community in Vancouver as well as in many other North American communities. By coincidence, the man who was named as 'Patient Zero' by researchers into the spread of the virus, was living in Vancouver and I knew him.
Gaetan was a very handsome French-Canadian fellow from Quebec City whose occupation was as an Air Canada flight attendant. He was 'Gay' and he adored sex and was quite promiscuous. Also, having frequent 'lay overs' in many cities he met and interacted with many other men.
Gaetan did resent being singled out - possibly unfairly - as 'The Source' but, I guess, the ball had to stop somewhere. The last time that I saw him was when he asked me to have a cup of coffee with him. As I have said, he was very handsome but, by that time, his face was becoming disfigured by ugly blotches (Karposi Sarcoma).
There are a number of hospitals in Vancouver - as there are in most cities - but the one that became 'Aids Central' was St Paul's on Burrard Street at the edge of the West End where lived the highest concentration of LGBT people.
I came to be in there visiting on many afternoons - I saw congregants, friends and strangers. It was sad and tough.
Also, I was called upon to preside at a number of funerals for those who did not survive - and to attend more for friends who were of other faiths. I salute all of them.
The HIV/AIDS patients were congregated on one floor of that hospital with the nurses' station in the middle. One afternoon I called into the room of the youngest patient - he was 18 or so - where the mother, aunt and 'AIDS buddy' (Gay men volunteered - and were trained - as buddies for HIV-positive people) were sitting by the bedside. That 'AIDS Buddy' was a member of MCC-Vancouver and I knew him well.
Another friend of mine had been admitted as well and his room was across the way. I went over there to see Ted for a few minutes and then returned to the first room. When I entered the room the mother, aunt and AIDS buddy were no where in sight and the bed sheet had been pulled up over the body - the lad had passed away in the interim.
There were two men who were a couple and whom I knew socially. Both became HIV positive and one of them became ill and then died. Later I saw the survivor and chatted with him. Jan had been a patient in St Paul's too and Jeff told me that the nurses had commented to them how remarkable it was that all of the patients on that ward had a continuous stream of visitors - a phenomena not seen in wards where patients were suffering from cancer or other diseases.
One of the lads who attended MCC-Vancouver became ill and passed away. His family lived in Vancouver and looked after the funeral arrangements. They belonged to a fundamentalist congregation and their Pastor led the funeral service in a chapel in a funeral home. A number of us attended and were shocked by how irrelevant was the message from the Pastor. After the funeral two women from our church asked if we couldn't have another service more relevant to the deceased and to we, his friends? Normally I would not agree to that but I did this time. We needed to say our 'Good-byes' in a way that was relevant to those who knew him as he really was.
I had a gay friend who was a nurse at the Provincial Hospital - Woodlands - for mentally ill children. I had been in that hospital visiting - and in the counterpart here in Ontario - and I have a huge amount of respect for those who work in those places.
My friend owned his home and, one day, he had gone shopping. When he returned he found that his house had been broken into and that the burglars were still inside. He rushed in, was attacked, and was killed.
We had a number of mutual friends and one of them - his Executor - asked if I would conduct his Memorial Service? I agreed - although, there was one stipulation which I found difficult. He was not 'out' to his family so I was told not to make any reference to his sexual preference. That made me uncomfortable - and I came to a realization that his family did know.
One of the tabloids reported on the murder with the screaming headline "Murderers Splattered With AIDS Blood"! Give me a break!
There were identical twin brothers who were Gay and one of them had a magnificent singing voice (he had attended auditions for the Metropolitan Opera Company which were held in Seattle). The last time that I saw him was at an AIDS Benefit concert in Victoria. He looked ill but he sang magnificently the song from "Carousal" - "You'll Never Walk Alone". I don't think that there was a dry eye in the theater.
When I moved to Toronto in 1989 Gay men were still dieing in alarming numbers. Now there is a magnificent 'AIDS Memorial' in Cawthra Park on Church Street. On the Thursday evening of Pride Week there is a candlelight service in that park when the names of more people - all genders and all ages - are added to the memorial. Very beautiful and very moving.
I am adding two photos. The first is of the AIDS Memorial on Church Street as seen in daylight. The second is of the AIDS Vigil held on the Thursday evening of Pride week.
Hundreds of people of all ages and every gender gathered together in memory. A very moving experience.
Yes, it developed first in Africa and was spread by biting insects and did affect the native African population more than any other - but it was NOT a 'conspiracy' but a new viral strain.
In North America and Europe it did impact the Gay male communities more than any other - but was not confined to that demographic despite the claims of religious fundamentalists!
The virus soon had an impact upon the Gay Community in Vancouver as well as in many other North American communities. By coincidence, the man who was named as 'Patient Zero' by researchers into the spread of the virus, was living in Vancouver and I knew him.
Gaetan was a very handsome French-Canadian fellow from Quebec City whose occupation was as an Air Canada flight attendant. He was 'Gay' and he adored sex and was quite promiscuous. Also, having frequent 'lay overs' in many cities he met and interacted with many other men.
Gaetan did resent being singled out - possibly unfairly - as 'The Source' but, I guess, the ball had to stop somewhere. The last time that I saw him was when he asked me to have a cup of coffee with him. As I have said, he was very handsome but, by that time, his face was becoming disfigured by ugly blotches (Karposi Sarcoma).
There are a number of hospitals in Vancouver - as there are in most cities - but the one that became 'Aids Central' was St Paul's on Burrard Street at the edge of the West End where lived the highest concentration of LGBT people.
I came to be in there visiting on many afternoons - I saw congregants, friends and strangers. It was sad and tough.
Also, I was called upon to preside at a number of funerals for those who did not survive - and to attend more for friends who were of other faiths. I salute all of them.
The HIV/AIDS patients were congregated on one floor of that hospital with the nurses' station in the middle. One afternoon I called into the room of the youngest patient - he was 18 or so - where the mother, aunt and 'AIDS buddy' (Gay men volunteered - and were trained - as buddies for HIV-positive people) were sitting by the bedside. That 'AIDS Buddy' was a member of MCC-Vancouver and I knew him well.
Another friend of mine had been admitted as well and his room was across the way. I went over there to see Ted for a few minutes and then returned to the first room. When I entered the room the mother, aunt and AIDS buddy were no where in sight and the bed sheet had been pulled up over the body - the lad had passed away in the interim.
There were two men who were a couple and whom I knew socially. Both became HIV positive and one of them became ill and then died. Later I saw the survivor and chatted with him. Jan had been a patient in St Paul's too and Jeff told me that the nurses had commented to them how remarkable it was that all of the patients on that ward had a continuous stream of visitors - a phenomena not seen in wards where patients were suffering from cancer or other diseases.
One of the lads who attended MCC-Vancouver became ill and passed away. His family lived in Vancouver and looked after the funeral arrangements. They belonged to a fundamentalist congregation and their Pastor led the funeral service in a chapel in a funeral home. A number of us attended and were shocked by how irrelevant was the message from the Pastor. After the funeral two women from our church asked if we couldn't have another service more relevant to the deceased and to we, his friends? Normally I would not agree to that but I did this time. We needed to say our 'Good-byes' in a way that was relevant to those who knew him as he really was.
I had a gay friend who was a nurse at the Provincial Hospital - Woodlands - for mentally ill children. I had been in that hospital visiting - and in the counterpart here in Ontario - and I have a huge amount of respect for those who work in those places.
My friend owned his home and, one day, he had gone shopping. When he returned he found that his house had been broken into and that the burglars were still inside. He rushed in, was attacked, and was killed.
We had a number of mutual friends and one of them - his Executor - asked if I would conduct his Memorial Service? I agreed - although, there was one stipulation which I found difficult. He was not 'out' to his family so I was told not to make any reference to his sexual preference. That made me uncomfortable - and I came to a realization that his family did know.
One of the tabloids reported on the murder with the screaming headline "Murderers Splattered With AIDS Blood"! Give me a break!
There were identical twin brothers who were Gay and one of them had a magnificent singing voice (he had attended auditions for the Metropolitan Opera Company which were held in Seattle). The last time that I saw him was at an AIDS Benefit concert in Victoria. He looked ill but he sang magnificently the song from "Carousal" - "You'll Never Walk Alone". I don't think that there was a dry eye in the theater.
When I moved to Toronto in 1989 Gay men were still dieing in alarming numbers. Now there is a magnificent 'AIDS Memorial' in Cawthra Park on Church Street. On the Thursday evening of Pride Week there is a candlelight service in that park when the names of more people - all genders and all ages - are added to the memorial. Very beautiful and very moving.
I am adding two photos. The first is of the AIDS Memorial on Church Street as seen in daylight. The second is of the AIDS Vigil held on the Thursday evening of Pride week.
Hundreds of people of all ages and every gender gathered together in memory. A very moving experience.
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