#death of a friend

[remembertheplunge]

Ken Southerland

March 23, 1991 Saturday

I met Ken Southerland at the Mustang Bar tonight. He was a 1962 graduate from Atwater High School. He knows my Dad. Said he was the only nice teacher. He said the other teachers bossed the kids—fear factor. Ken was still angry about that. We exchanged phone numbers. He caressed my hand. That was OK.

My margin note to the above:

April 29, 1991

Ken just called from the court house. He’s on a jury. It’s touching that he would call at such a vulnerable moment. At least as I see it. He tried once before to take me out to lunch, he said. My answering machine did my talking for me. Both times, I need to think and feel this out”

End of entries

Note: 12/15/2024

Both of my parents taught at Atwater High School (AHS) in Atwater, California. They brought my sister Zoe and I out here from their home in Lincoln Nebraska to start work at the high school in1959. I graduated from AHS in 1973. 

It was amazing for me tonight to fid this entry in which I first met Ken! I have no independent memory of our first meeting. The Mustang Bar which is now closed, was a gay bar out on 9th Street in Modesto, California. It was located in kind of an industrial area. It was a drag bar. Country bar feel to it inside: lots of dark woods and dim lighting. Owned by a woman named Shirley. She was beautiful, in her 60’s or 70’s and a gracious host.

Ken liked me more than I liked him, but we were friends for years. I do remember one evening when, while I was lying on the floor in his house, he sprinkled rose petals all around me!

On July 4, 2004, Ken was standing outside the White Elephant Bar in Modesto when a man struck him causing Ken to fall back and hit his head on the side walk . Ken died within a day from the blow to his head. His assailant was arrested and prosecuted. .

Huge tragedy. Ken was a hair dresser in town and a great guy.. 

In 1991, we had no" I phones". We had land line phones which you could connect to a phone answering machine. A person calling could leave a message on a cassette tape installed in the phone. 

[problematic-poetess]

You were my person.

You are my person.

You’ll always be my person.

The person i could say anything and everything to.

You were unparalleled.

You were amazing to me in every way.

you were my best-friend.

You are my best-friend.

I’ll never stop imagining what life would be like if you were here.

I’ll never stop wishing you were here.

I’ll never stop remembering every second we spent together.

I’ll never stop loving you.

I’ll never stop missing you.

[thelonelyrainbowguy]

Just found out that one of my favorite people from a Discord server I moderate passed away. I have no further detail. I was just thinking about them the other day and wanted to check up on them, and forgot like I always do. I didn't know them in person but they were so kind, understanding, helpful, and caring. I wish I'd known them better and I wish I'd said something when I thought of it, just to brighten one of their last days a little, whether their death was sudden or expected (like I said, no further detail).

Their screen name was LilWanderingPoptart but everyone just called them Poptart. They were multiply disabled and severely chronically ill. They liked to draw and play Minecraft and chat on the server. They were so nonjudgmental and always wanted to help wherever they could.

Rest in peace, Poptart. You're already missed.

[popcornoncemore]

I am coming to terms with the fact that I'm going to her funeral. I'm going to see her family and our friends and everyone who has ever loved her and we will take time to remember her. This is good, this is healthy, this is devastating.

I feel a jolting sense of awareness that this is unfamiliar to us. At fifteen and sixteen, we should be spending Saturday hanging out, studying, taking a break. We should be talking about what to wear to a dance, but instead we are having discussions about what is appropriate funeral attire. We should be celebrating our friend's birthday today, but we're putting it off to celebrate another friend's life.

It is strange, it is uncomfortable. But we need to do this, it is important. She was one of us and we will be there to show her family that we care. I am heartbroken, I feel lost. But I will go to her funeral today.

I can't believe this is happening, but it is. And I'm just thankful that we are together right now, that I'm not left to battle grief on my own. This is our family, she is our family.

It is with a mix of horror, disbelief, resolve, love, and hope that I am approaching this. I am going to the funeral.

[patrick47]

Dear Greg

[Greg (R) and myself on some forgotten peak in the Keene Valley Region of the Adirondacks. NY. Date: 1970’s. Photo is mine.] It’s coming up on a year now since you left me on the trail. You needed to climb one more mountain…at the time, I didn’t want another summit, but you had other thoughts. “One more,” you said. “Okay, but I need a rest. I like this little spot. There’s a brook over there…

[timharrold]

Not Enough Tears In The Sea (17-23.2.25)

In memory of a fellow creative and disciple of Christ. Less than two weeks later, the guy who inspired the title — wildlife artist and seeker of Jesus — also passed. The three of us spent a memorable day together at the latter’s studio on 9 April 2024 in Lavenham, Suffolk UK.

[elyaqim]

Marc and Polly, 2025.

❤️ Today, 22 February, is the coincidentally shared birthday of two of the closest friends I have ever had—Marc Matthew Atkins and John H. Cox (“Polly Grip”)—both of whom died in their forties. As an ironic consequence of the digital age, I learned about their deaths years after they had happened. This is just a quick post to say I miss them both greatly.

[carolineaross]

dawson,

there are no more i love you's

no more late night talks

no more driving with the windows down

no more doordashes in my car that you insisted on driving. i laughed at how big you looked driving my car

no more driving to mountain brook and seeing the snow

no more almost beach trips

no more late nights

no more early mornings

no more cuddles

no more hugs that wrapped me like a blanket

no more kisses (that made me fall to my knees)

no more of your booming bellowing voice

no more of your infectious laugh

no more of your jokes that could keep me up for hours laughing

no more of your smile that could truly light up a room

no more of your love and kindness

no more of you

[creamy-femboy-dilk]

Rest in peace, Will. My hope is that these last few years you were able to find happiness and comfort, as those things often alluded you. I will honor your memory in the ways that I can, through actions you that would make you smile with glee, or laugh at with amazement.

[symphonyofsilence]

Let the poor man rest.

[aberration13]

9anime my beloved, they took you too soon

[remembertheplunge]

All is fleeting . all is ephemeral

August 16, 2014. Saturday 6:43am

“We do not know where death awaits us:

So, let us wait for it everywhere.

To practice death is to practice freedom.

A man who has learned how to die

has unlearned how to be a slave.”

Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) from the book “Broken Open” p. 221.

Michel de Montaigne  also advised people to practice death. “Let us deprive death of its strangeness."

My 8/17/2014 margin note to the above was

 “We rent. Price tag patina. All is fleeting. All is ephemeral.”

(By “We rent” I meant, we occupy our bodies temporarily. 

“Price Tag Patina” is a term that I came up with to describe my practice of leaving the price tag on items I buy at yard sales and also on items that did not sell at two estate sales that I held after my partner’s death. That way, things are are ready for the estate sale when I die! It’s kind of a humorous and practical  affirmation that I will die.

End of entry

Note: 8/10/2024

I had just run into the above entries about death in my 2014 journal when I learned yesterday that Nancy Ashley had died of cancer July 29. I met her in the 90’s when she was a deputy District Attorney and I was a deputy Public Defender in Modesto, California. In 1996, she ran for Judge and won. I became friends with Nancy and her husband at that time Mike Cummins. He was also a deputy District Attorney and also became a judge. In 2013, I applied to be a judge and Nancy wrote a letter of recommendation for me . Although I was never appointed judge, her support meant a lot. I was the only out gay lawyer in town at the time. (Probably still am)

Over the years, I appeared in judge Ashley’s court in Department 6 of the Stanislaus County Court house many times. I found her to be gracious and fair as a judge.

She died at age 64, just shy of her 65th birthday . I'm about 4 years older than Nancy was. I got to thinking if I had died at age 64, what wouldn’t have happened. There would be no Remember The Plunge blog. This blog began a year and a half ago. I never would have begun open water swimming in the ocean. That started 2 years ago. I wouldn’t have been there to support my sister Zoe through her sudden illness and death about a year ago.

I never would have known the magic of reviewing my journals in preparation for a book based on them and now this blog. That stated about 4 years ago. And, I never would have experienced the gathering wonder of aging that came with men mid and late 60's

8/16/2014.  (I am now 69)

[popcornoncemore]

I just can't believe that she's dead.

Her sister posted pictures of her on Instagram and it just hurt. I'm in the stage of grief where I just can't figure out how to fully realize this is really happening. That I'll never pass her in the hall or sit by her at the lunch table. That her family and friends are going through this. That I'm planning to go to her funeral.

[stil-lindigo]

the vulture.

a comic about cycles.

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creative notes:

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[hamsterdads]

having a lot of toh thoughts tonight, so here's a few :] I think that king and the collector would be life partners ( probably platonically, but mostly just whatever keeps them together forever hehe)

i also think the collector would take luz's passing the hardest (given their history with it and all...) and i think she'd know this and do her best to prepare them for it. so here's me trying to deal with all that.

[modormouth]

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