I’ve worked really hard at compartmentalizing the death this week of my friend Kevin Steele – and until just a few hours ago I thought I was doing really well with that.
I’ve seen so very many of my friends die over the past thirty years that I wanted this to be just another one.
Death, that is.
But its not.
Just another death.
I’ve been crying for the last hour or so over this monumental loss to me and all the people who knew him and I don’t really know how to process it.
The last time I saw Kevin was the day after Gay Pride in 2003. I was moving to Seattle from New York the very next day and Kevin was in town with my ex bf Patrick. They were staying with me but were going clubbing that night and I had told them that my movers were showing up at 8 the next day and not to be late coming home from the clubs because shit was gonna be nuts around my house.
Needless to say, they were very late.
When they showed I was so fucking angry with them that I banished them to the terrace outside my apartment for the three hours that it took to get everything moved out. Kevin thought that was hysterical.
Until he realized how hot it was outside and that I wasn’t going to let them into the apartment until the move was done.
One of my first great memories of Kevin was at Mid-Atlantic Leather in D.C around 1996. We met up at the big dance and his pills (and mine) were just starting to kick in and for the next hour he did a perfect imitation of Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” as he howled “OOOOOOOOOH” at the top of his lungs – while leathermen/queens pranced around him.
In spite of the fact that I was living in Seattle for more than ten years Kevin was diligent in staying in touch with me for the next decade. He posted to my blog, texted me several times a week, and sent me pictures of hot menz that he thought I’d appreciate — all under the nom de blog of “The Miss Thing in D.C.”.
Kevin Steele was one of a kind — and there will never be another like him.