Thinking of Lucky, a Dear Friend My Nancy Introduced to Me

Lucky and Nancy in another time.

These words are in memory
of a dear friend whom I met in 1975
through my soul mate Nancy
who also is no longer alive
although they both will
exist forever, in my inner being, spirit wise.
And as it is with life,
I could have never known
back then
that this new friend,
Charlie McKain, Lucky,
would represent the kind of
human progress
in which he has been
involved in
(my mother, by the way,
is turning in her grave
with that ordering of words
as she was the queen of the preposition) –
but this dear friend’s
relationship with one of the
funniest and wittiest men,
in existence,
Bob McWilliams,
is a chapter in human history,
putting an end
to stereotypes and assumptions
regarding gay relationships
as Lucky and Bob’s
time together coincide’s
with the relationship that Nancy and I
enjoyed for so many tides –
including marriage.
Hey, who ever saw that
coming our way
although it makes so much sense;
if straights can tie a knot
why not gays?
As some say:
let them be miserable too
in every kind of way
but these two
had a remarkable relationship
in so many ways,
one that freed Lucky to strive selflessly
and relentlessly
and eagerly
and gracefully
and effectively
and happily
and laudably
and, because of who he was,
unavoidably
in behalf of the gay community,
endlessly
seeking means to foster pride,
to creating a society
wherein a gay or lesbian
or bi-sexual or transgendered
or questioning human being
wouldn’t have to hide,
wherein their wants and needs
would no longer be denied,
wherein they could walk in stride
with all of humankind.
He was one of a kind,
taking on the task
of carving a reality where one
can tell whether or not he or she is asked,
up for the challenge
no matter how long it would last,
in a range of capacities:
as an officer
or member of gazillion committies
seemingly
in every grouping of democrats
there could possibly be
from the San Diego Democrats for Equality
to a four time delegate
at national conventions –
part of the first lesbian-gay caucus
as a Ted Kennedy assignee
in 1980
in Madison Square Garden
in New York City.
He was a change maker,
a game breaker,
a crafter of political boundaries,
playing a major role
for the creation of an LGBT friendly
City Council district
which is prominent in my memory
as I was part of an effort
to help build a district
where Latinos would be the majority
and Lucky showed me a plan
that would serve both Chicanos and gays
somewhat equitably
and I supported such thinking
unapologetically
and the people
with whom
(see, mom, I can do the preposition thing)
I was working
looked at me like I was
a serial killer
on a shooting spree
but Lucky was my dear friend
and I would have never done anything
that was detrimental to him
or anyone like him.
He was a gem
and it has been my pleasure to know him
and all the people in my circles
that Nancy introduced me to
that have become my friends and I speak for them
when I say we will miss this beautiful man
as we were in awe of his sheer intelligence,
his knowledge of the world,
of history,
his travels,
his skills linguistically,
his Stanford
and UCLA degrees,
his fitness,
his love of basketball,
particularly.
I remember him playing
a friendly game with me,
driving and pulling up
for a jumpshot
foolishly
and I swatted it like
it was a mosquito bothering me,
not meaning to bounce
it off his face
whereupon I think “Spaulding”
was etched backwards on his forehead,
and we both laughed
and fell to the ground.
With all the serious endeavors
Lucky undertook,
he, as Tom Patterson,
a mutual friend of his and mine,
said recently,
“was a gentle person who laughed easily.
The only negative thing I ever heard him
talk about was the Republican Party.
He was a liberal who worked hard
to forward his beliefs.
The world will be a poorer place
for his passing.”
And Suzi Patterson, too, who knew
Lucky since the 60’s,
speaks of the laughing,
of Lucky making jokes about politics
and the many parties at his and Bob’s house
“where we would almost be rolling
on the floor with laughter.”
She goes on to say:
“I loved him as a friend
and part of a special group of friends
from the old days.
Here’s to you, Lucky,
you were great.”
I second that.
My Nancy gave me,
beautiful and bright children,
unconditional love
and companionship
and joy
and introduced
me to a wonderful man.
My dear friend:
Charles, Charlie, Louis McKain.
Lucky.
She and he will live forever in my
heart and soul, spiritually,
as two of the most outstanding people
ever known to me.
I send them hugs
wrapped in love,
in behalf of their mutual friends,
to warm them
wherever they are
throughout eternity.