A Brave and Courageous Man

Over 200 people donned tuxedos and evening gowns last night for the Starfish Gala and I must confess it was a beautiful crowd. They mingled and auctioned and enjoyed one another. And the women of Union Mission were all stunningly beautiful last night. Skip and I pulled up the rear.

There was this moment though that will always stay with me. Elmo Weeks is 90 and is the very successful owner and operator of a family run funereal home. He has also served on the Union Mission Board of Directors for 60 years and last night we recognized such a contribution.

He was sitting with his family when Chairman of the Board Jerry Rainey joined me on the stage to present Elmo a plaque and announce that the Chapel in the J. C. Lewis Health Center will bear his name. As I spoke I was looking at Elmo who was looking at me.

"Back in the late 80s and early 90s Union Mission opened the Phoenix Place, a residence for people with AIDS. In those days, there was a lot of hysteria surrounding the disease and people were afraid they would catch it merely by being in the same room with someone. It was also a time when AIDS was a death sentence. And we certainly cared for many who died."

"When they did," I continued, "none of the funeral homes in the city would take care of the bodies of people who had died because of AIDS. So I would call Elmo and he told me, 'Of Course' and that is the kind of man Elmo Weeks is. A compassionate and courageous person."

And when I said this I watched Elmo burst into tears and bury his face in his hands. His wife tenderly rubbed his back. And then the tears flowed freely from my face in front of over 200 beautiful people. I cried because he cried and because it is rare that one gets to pay tribute to someone brave enough to care when the rest of the world is afraid.

Elmo gingerly made his way to the stage and Jerry gave him his plaque. They returned to their seats and I had to introduce Dr. Kathy Love of Savannah Technical College. When I finished I jumped off the stage and walked straight to Elmo. I hugged him and kissed his forehead and we both cried together.

I think that we cried for all of those that we buried. And for all of the people who had been too afraid to give a damn. For all of the prejudice and discrimination against people who were gay or addicted. We cried because too few care about these things still. And we cried because we lived through it and remember it.

The rest of the night is really a blur to me. But that moment with Elmo remains. And it will remain with me for the rest of my life.