Not long ago, an acquaintence of mine took his own life. He was well-known to most of the town, but no one could see this coming. Not me, not any of his friends, not close associates in the business community.
And there were many, many people who loved him.
In late middle age, Chad had a catering business. Chad had been a florist, a landscaper, and a general building contractor. He worked with his hands, and although you couldn't say his work was that much better than his competitors, it was his charm that won him clients. And he was our first openly homosexual business leader. He was matter-of-fact about it, and he didn't "look like one." Chad could act a little "swishy" if he thought that's what you wanted to see, but really he was a fairly modest man.
"Some of them are as good as me, some of them are better than me, but they don't have that faggot touch," he'd laugh.
Not so good with money. He loved fine food, fine wine, and beautiful surroundings. His mother left him her house, which was a 50's working-class single level home on an average lot a couple of blocks from downtown. He'd put loads of money into it. Stuccoed interior walls with coved ceilings, Brazilian cherry cabinets, French doors, oriental rugs and a commercial kitchen inside. Meticulous plantings, terra cotta tile and even a brick oven outside. Many pieces of art were purchased from local artists because he loved to socialize with them and sponsor them. The piece de resistance was a ten year old Bentley parked in the driveway.
Rob Peter to pay Paul was his financial practice. I'm sure it enraged some people, but Chad could pull the fat out of the fire, so to speak, at the last moment most times.
Chad often donated his services at charity events. He might offer a dinner for eight in his home to the highest bidder at a live auction for, say, Youth Sports Coalition, and that would be one of the most popular and highest premium items.
I used to visit with one of his secretaries who is a good friend of mine. Cheryl and I had worked on political fundraisers in years past, so we'd talk about current events, how people we knew in politics were faring, the weather, family news... Sometimes Chad would join us, always in good cheer.
I remember one day we were talking about gay issues. I asked Chad those things a person might typically ask like "How and when did you know? "Are gay men any kind of threat to young boys?" "Should gay people marry?" He said I could ask him anything. But what I remember most, was the saddness in his voice when he told me he was lonely.
I said I didn't understand that because I knew he lived with a man named Jacob and they were seen everywhere together.
Not everyone knew, he explained, that he and Jacob were not lovers, but were friends.
"We're like a couple of old ladies." I remember those words very well, although I wasn't sure what he meant.
I heard through the buzz around town that Chad sold his business to pay IRS liens. I heard he put his beautiful home up for sale and leased it to a family until it could sell. He was renting a room somewhere. Someone said Jacob moved to Oregon.
I don't know who it was that found Chad's body. He was in his Bentley in a closed up garage with the engine still running. He had been drinking a twenty-year-old Bordeaux and listening to opera cds.
There was a big Catholic funeral. The church overflowed and the wake went well past midnight.
Then life went on. Months later, the house is still on the market like so many houses are in this recession, and the catering company is struggling. Some say it's closing it's doors.
I guess it's lost it's touch.
