One Confirmed Dead

Portland, OR

October, 1996

Mallory Hotel

 

When I first met Charlene I was falling in love

with Heidi and had just come off two full days

of incredible sex with Kathleen. Every ounce of

my body and mind were alive. I was flying on

adrenaline, lust and amore.

There was nothing I could not do.

I will remember Charlene, more than at any

other moment I knew her, on that first night

watching me eat my Ginger laden spinach

bemused and with envy. Every taste bud in my

mouth was transmitting with peak efficiency.

The ginger was in spears, each about an inch

and a half long, perfectly cooked in the black

bean sauce and complementing the spinach. I

was in heaven and I didn't care who knew it.

I sat opposite Trevor and next to Trevor's

mother. I gave them all part of my food, which,

while they agreed it was very good did not share

my orgasmic responses to it. The first bite I

took turned heads throughout the restaurant as I

moaned with delight. Quite different than my

usual reserved demeanor.

And when I think of Charlene, that is the night I

see her on. I see her watching me spoon the

food into my mouth as I was watching her watch

me spoon the food into my mouth and knowing

that she knew I was watching her watch me

spoon the food into my mouth. I see her with

Trevor and I bid the three of them goodnight on

the corner of 23rd and Hoyt as I left them to go

to Heidi's house to watch the Olympics.

That was February, I believe. 1994.

It is currently October 1996.

Heidi no longer wishes contact with me for

unexplained reasons. Kathleen has severed all

contact. I have lived with Caitlin for two years

and that is on the wane. I have started exploring

new relationships. I live in Seattle now.

Charlene is dead.

Charlene, in fact, didn't even live beyond 1994

or even into the next summer. She moved to

San Francisco where she increased her drug

habit, overdosed and died. This would have

been tragic on its own if it weren't part of a

trend. So now it seems meta-tragic. Charlene,

Roger and Brent, all running around San

Francisco strung out, buying from untrustworthy

people, losing their dignity.

I first met Brent in Seattle, very briefly. He said

I should come visit him in San Francisco. I did.

I visited him three times. Brent is someone you

will fall in love with. I don't know why, you

just will. Everyone does. He is not stunningly

gorgeous. He just has some characteristic -

maybe its pheromones, I don't know. Everyone

falls in love with Brent. This explains how he

could be a highly paid programmer for Charles

Schwabb with a pierced lip, tongue and assorted

other parts of his body.

The first time I went to San Francisco Brent

showed me around his neighborhood. The

second time we had sex into the wee hours of

the morning. The third time he announced he

was going to start doing drugs. He has since

disappeared and no one has a clue if he is still

alive.

I met Trevor for lunch one day in Portland. "I

got a call last night." He said, "Charlene

apparently did too much heroine and overdosed.

So she's dead now." The news seemed

simultaneously unreal and totally appropriate. I

could see it coming so clearly that it was as if it

were on Television. Charlene instantly became

one of the unknown Star Trek characters on an

away mission. If you didn't know them at the

start of the show they're sure to be fried by the

aliens by the end. The only obvious difference

being that I had eaten many meals with

Charlene. The discrepancy left me off balance,

which left me with my usual inadequate

response - to laugh at my own inability to

appropriately respond to the situation.

So I chuckled in an awkward way. I like to

think that Trevor knew what I was going

through and that he didn't think I saw any actual

humor in the situation.

Roger was my co-chair for the NAMES Project

in Seattle from 1991 to 1993. I only agreed to

be the co-chair in the first place because Roger

agreed to do it with me. He was the manager for

a group home for developmentally disabled

adults and had served with me on other non-

profit steering committees. He and I traveled to

Washington DC twice, San Francisco three

times, and Atlanta once. I think we went to

Vancouver once as well.

In 1995 he found out he was HIV positive -

shortly after he moved to San Franc isco. Then

he disappeared. No trace to be found. I can

only assume the same abusive gremlins grabbed

him.

After he found out about Charlene, Trevor sent a

letter to her mother saying that while Charlene

was alive she knew some bad people and did

some bad things, but that she also knew some

good people who loved her very much. I have

always been very moved by this. The impact of

receiving such a letter for me would be

indescribable.

A few weeks later, Trevor ended up in the same

part of the country as Charlene's mother and he

gave her a call. She wasn't home, so he left

voice mail saying that he was in town and if she

wanted to call she could and if she didn't that

he'd understand. One the last day he was there

she called. She said that she couldn't deal with

seeing him, but that didn't stop them from

having a long personal conversation about

Charlene which left them both laughing and in

tears - which is exactly what a conversation like

that should do.

At the end, Charlene's mother asked Trevor if

he'd like some of her ashes. He said he'd think

about it.

I don't know what role San Francisco plays in

this constant stream of death and disappearance,

but it certainly does seem significant. I feel that

in many ways Brent epitomizes the city. San

Francisco seems to be a city where you can

either work or play yourself to death. It is a

flury of activity, posturing and money.

Brent was in a position where he was making

over 100,000 dollars a year, putting in long

hours, living the dream. San Francisco provided

a base for him to achieve this success. But when

he wanted to start using, there was an equal and

active support structure there for him as well. I

was with him that first night when he went in

search of crystal meth. It took him less than 15

minutes to find it from a guy selling a Madonna

poster on the street.

"Madonna poster! Buy a Madonna poster" the

guy yelled. "Hey," he said to me and Brent,

"You wanna Madonna poster?" "No," Brent

said, "I was some Crystal." "Oh, okay," the guy

said. It was that simple.

It was two in the morning on Market Street. We

walked up into the Mission and Brent and his

new found friends that we'd picked up in the

Detour a few minutes before found an alley to

fix in. I said goodnight and left Brent for the

last time.

One night Karen and I went out with Trevor for

desert. After we finished Trevor asked if I'd

stop by so he could return some things of mine

he had borrowed. I agreed and we went up to

his apartment. In his room, under his disco ball,

was a Mason jar. "Is that was I think it is?" I

asked. "Yes," he replied." "A little jar of

Charlene." "That's pretty bizarre, Trevor." "I

have looked very closely and there are little bits

of bone in there. Little bits of Charlene."

When Roger told me he was HIV positive I

asked him if he knew when and how this

happened. I was annoyed that this had

happened and wanted to justify my annoyance.

Roger, like myself, was the co-chair of the

Seattle Chapter of the largest memorial in the

world, The NAMES Project AIDS Memorial

Quilt. We spoke at length to schoolchildren,

teamsters, college students, parishioners, white

collar workers, flaming homosexuals and the

gamut of other groups about safer sex, the Quilt,

loss and potential. At the time of Roger's call I

was housesitting for Tony, who was already

HIV positive. I had heard the news enough.

Roger told me that when he left the NAMES

Project and quit his job he became quite the

party boy - having sex almost non-stop, taking

drugs and drinking heavily. He said that he

knew exactly the night it had happened.

Someone talked him into something and that

was it - end of story. Roger asked me to stay in

touch, but immediately after the phone call he

disappeared. I now call the San Francisco

directory assistance once every two months or

so and ask for him. He never has a number. No

one knows where he is. He was last seen in

search of a program that gave free marijuana to

HIV positive people.

When Brent told me over an expensive dinner in

a chiq San Francisco restaurant that he was

going back on drugs he warned me off trying to

make him stop. I told him that there was no way

I could be successful at such a thing - especially

since I was living in Portland and he in San

Francisco. Especially since he never listened to

anyone at any time for any reason anyway. He

was self assured, head strong and egocentric.

All part of the reason that he was so attractive.

All part of his James Dean / Neal Cassaday self

destructive all American hero bent. We must

always pity our heroes.

When Charlene told Trevor that she was using

heroine she did it with the question, "It doesn't

bother you that I do heroine, does it?" I don't

recall what Trevor's exact reply was, but his

overriding response was to learn about it. He

read up on the medical effects of it, writings by

proponents, writings by foes. He did not want

to do it himself, but he did want to learn what it

was he was commenting on before passing

judgement. When he told me of Charlene's

pronouncement and his reaction, my reaction

was highly mixed. I admired Trevor's reaction

- but the personal knowledge that she was using

made me feel very small.

Even with HIV and AIDS, I feel like I have

some control over situations when people I

know end up with them. While the disease can

take several different courses, it has a large

support structure for those infected and I have a

large support structure as a loved one. In the

case of Charlene I felt utterly powerless.

Much of this powerlessness stemmed from the

face that Charlene was not a very close friend,

but merely someone I saw from time to time. I

therefore could not exercise any strong arm

tactics that one is allowed when one is a good

friend. I could merely watch the situation

devolve until it reached its predictable

conclusion.

When my friend Karrie met Brent for the first

time she was not looking forward to it. She was

certain that she would share nothing in common

with him. Here was this aggressive, macho

homosexual with piercing dotting his body

living the fast San Francisco lifestyle and a

young, straight, Christian budding family

therapist - what could they possibly share?

It did not take Karrie long to be won over by

Brent's charm, attentiveness and wit. She spent

the whole trip enjoying Brent's company and

being totally amazed that she was enjoying

Brent's company. She learned a lot from that

experience, as I too learned a lot from him.

So Ginsberg was not alone. We all watch the

best minds of our generation be destroyed by

madness. The madness varies from generation

to generation. We come up with new horrors

and add them to older ones. Our quest for the

novel ensures that each generation will have a

unique horror that they can hold over previous

generations.

However.

There is one reason above all else that the Quilt

is successful. It's not that it is a memorial, it is

not that it keeps us remembering names over

statistics, it is not that it is so god damn huge.

The Quilt is successful because it embraces the

totality of human existence. It does so by

providing an open forum for the expression of

personalities. In each Quilt section resides the

spirit of the memorialized and the person

making the memorial. Each panel represents

relationships. Personal, professional, spiritual

relationships.

Brent, Charlene and Roger are lost to me. Only

one of them is confirmed dead. They were

people of extreme potential. They were people

of love and wonder and questionable judgment.

In their legacy, however, I see people touched

and transformed. I see good work done. I see

the future of my generation.


GO ELSEWHERE!


Copyright 1997, 872/BVI
Last revised: November 07, 1998.