Sad News

First of all, read this and this.

I've mentioned before that I had a rough adolescence, and that camp was a wonderful escape for me every summer.

Specifically, it was Camp Chanco, which is run by the Episcopal Diocese of Southern Virgina, and I went for eight consecutive summers. Part of the reason it was so special to me was Perry, who was a camp counselor when I was a kid.

So yes-- I was an awkward little chunky monkey, and I was terrified of the water. He worked with me one on one for weeks one summer to get me comfortable enough to swim underneath a swamped canoe, pop up in the air bubble underneath it, and flip it back over. It was part of the canoe safety we were taught, and I just could NOT believe that there would be an air pocket for me to emerge into. I wailed, cried, I begged to skip it, but he was so gentle and cheerful and wouldn't let me give up. On the day I finally did it, I was freezing and had prune fingers from all the procrastinating I was doing. He was so patient, and held my hand the entire time.

So, naturally I developed an enormous crush on him, which only intensified one day when we were both in line for the vending machine at canteen time (the only time during the day when we were allowed candy or soda). The Cokes, Sprites, etc. had sold out on something like the second day of camp, so most people skipped the little porch with the Coke machine, but we kept running into each other there because we both liked the A&W Cream Soda. It was the only thing left in the machine. He bought a can for me to drink once, and when I was finished, I saved the can. I saved it for years and years and years. When Eva was born, my mother redecorated my bedroom to be a sort of "Grandchildren's Room," and I finally let it go into the recycling.

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Until a mutual camp friend posted the above articles on her Facebook yesterday, I had no idea what had ever come of Perry. I hadn't even thought about him since I found the soda can, but now I can't stop thinking about him. His most recent work projects revolved around the film adaptations of C.S. Lewis' Narnia Chronicles, which were some of my favorite books as a child (and are loved by Episcopalians everywhere. Other people, too, but us Episcopalians can really froth at the mouth over C.S. Lewis). He was also involved in the extremely worthy project of trying to get gay superheroes authentic storylines, instead of just token roles and early deaths.

Somewhere in all the press on his death is an article that mentions his unique gift for making everyone feel special and important, even after his fame. That is most certainly true.

I feel so awful for his partner, and his parents and family. He will be greatly missed.