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Someone asked me today about a man named Kevin.
Yes, was my reply as my eyes welled up. Kevin was someone that I did not get to know until the final few years of his life, but had seen at The Turret Club as a face in the crowd and said hello to coming in the door. Kevin had his own business and was very successful. In later years I had been to Kevin's house several times to do some renovations for him. Kevin was the third person that I knew that had died due to complications from HIV. Kevin never talked to me much about his problems and the work I did at his house did not seem necessary; it was only years later that I thought maybe he had me there to do the work to have someone to talk to. In those early years and in my own case too ( when someone was diagnosed HIV+ ) friends were few and hard to find sometimes. In most cases it was not out of fear of catching it but the fear of not knowing how to deal with it or what to say. I put no blame on those people in my case ( I may have reacted the same way).
Bill was the second, a big man with a big laugh. A clansman, I can still see him standing there in his kilt on special occasions at the Turret Club. I never knew Bill that well at all but he was one of the most jovial men that I had seen at The Club, his laugh carried thru and over the music.
The first person I knew of was someone that I had never met but was a very close friend of a friend of mine. His tragedy could be seen on the face of my friend after he had died and it never really caught on in my mind at the time because he was the supposed " FIRST". My friend never talked about it much, so I was getting information (at the time) from second hand sources.
Most of the people marked "D" in the chapter " Who Are We ", are people I knew very well and not all died due the HIV complictions but most did. I miss them all.
Talking about the many that have passed is not easy and all have a special place in my heart.
The ghosts of the past are smiling As they dance and play in our minds The ghosts of the past are shouting Stand proud and walk with us
The ghosts of the past are crying As we pause think for a time How we miss their arms around us The ghosts of the past are waving Saying we are still here so look closely
Hold out your hand to mine The ghosts of the past are .
As I listened to the chat channel chatter, the young 20 year old messages " Do you remember the day when? " as he talked about the good old days of the bars in Fredricton, New Brunswick and then he went to on complain how they are not what they used to be. A chuckle came to me as I thought about the same conversations that I had with old friends and aquaintances of mine. We too complain about how things are not as good as it used to be in the good old days.
Complaining about what you have or lack thereof seems to be an ongoing saga that spans generation after generation. Too soon we forget how we complained at the Turret Club and Rumours Club of things they lacked or people or staff that we did not like. I remember asking a few that always complained (especially at the Turret Club ) " If you do not like it here, why do you insist on coming? "; of course, the standard reply was that there was nowhere else to go.
The complaint box always seems to be full at the time we frequent a certain place or bar and as time passes we either forget or ignore our dissatifactions that were aired and only remember the good parts.
Yes I remember the day when ..... I think !!