My mother used cook at several places around town. She has spent years in local restaurants and
in later years she cooked at the junior high in Electra. She enjoyed her job and worked in the late
eighties for the nursing home in Electra.
She had several coworkers and made friends with the residents
there. The small nursing home provided
24 hour care to seniors with varying levels of care needs. My mother had to
prepare different menu items to meet the nutritional needs of the
residents. She had to cook, serve, and
clean after every meal. In fact I think
my mother learned to make large meals, a skill that she used family
parties. My mother could feed a small
army.
My mother always tried to get along with all her
coworkers. In fact my mother was well
liked by most of them. She would also
help cover for the housekeeping and laundry staff when they needed someone. My mother’s coworkers were also her
friends. I guess it was natural since
she was with them 40 hours a week. I
remember many names of my mother’s friends.
Nancy was her boss. Pat a nurse aid.
And Kevin was part of the kitchen staff.
Kevin was a gay man who lived in the country with his lover.
His old house was between Electra and Burkburnett. It was an old farm house in the middle of a field. They enjoyed the privacy out there; gay men
were not accepted by everyone in town. I meet him a few times at my mom’s job. He was a young white man, in his late
twenties. He had brown hair and feminine
mannerisms. He reminded me of John
Ritter from Three’s Company. My mom told
me in the car after first meeting him, that he was different. What she was trying to tell me was, he was
gay. I was not too sure what that
meant. But she explained that some men
were gay, and they had attractions to other men. I was not sure about my own sexuality at that
point, but looked to my mother to know how to respond. Did she think it is wrong, or gross? I responded, “Is he your friend?” She said, “yes, you can be friends with
someone, no matter how different they are”. I saw that as a true sign of who she was.
In the summer of 1989 the nursing home staff booked the
public pool after hours for an employee cook out. The pool was located in the city park so
employees invited to bring their families. The adults grilled burgers while the
kids enjoyed the pool. The husbands gathered around the grill and
drank beer out of red solo cups. We kids
were not supposed to know, but I knew the amber liquid was not apple
juice. I knew the smell well. After all, beer was like water to my Dad and
my uncles. The mom’s monitored the
children at play and hovered over the serving table. My Dad was not there, he was not a social
type. But regardless, my mother enjoyed socializing her
work friends.
The party was in full swing and the children could be heard
splashing and jumping and most of all laughing.
My mother’s coworker, Kevin was late to the party. He wore a casual tank top, shorts and some
worn rubber flip flops. He was met at
the entrance by some of the men. It didn't
take a genius to realize that the men were uncomfortable with him being
there. I assume they were threatened by
his feminine mannerisms. Electra was a
small town and queers were not welcomed.
After a brief exchange, he walked past the men and inside to wear the
woman were. He talked to a few people. I
overheard the conversation. He told about
how the men told him that he was not welcome, they called him faggot and
queer. They did not want him around the
kids nor did they want him in the poor for fear he may give them AIDS. He was obviously dress to enjoy the pool but
never set foot past the lobby door. He
was upset and left. The women chattered
about what had just happened. A couple
of women went out front to get the truth about what the men had said to him. It was true; they did not want him
there. That was the bottom the line. And
they had gotten their way.
My mother was upset to see another person treated badly. It only took a few jerks to ruin the party
for her. I can only imagine how Kevin
felt. My mom eventually had enough of the
chatter and decided we should leave. She
said goodbyes but I could tell it was not heartfelt. She was just being polite. I asked her why we had to leave, the party
was not over. I’m not sure if she meant
to tell me, but she did. It was a
conversation that was above my understanding.
She told me that Kevin was disliked because he was gay. They didn't want him there because he might “hurt”
one on the kids. They felt he could not
be trusted around young children. Apparently
they thought that being gay made you inclined to be attracted to children. I know now that this is stupid. But close minded people will make up excuses
to justify their fear.
The conversation continued with my mother. She told me that Kevin had AIDS. I didn't really understand what that meant. I knew it was a disease that many people in the country were dying from, mostly gay men. I knew my mother cared about her friend but found it hard to speak out. Kevin was a nice guy, but if you are gay, it seemed that people would hate you regardless. And if you had a disease like AIDS, you will lose your friends. That seemed sad to me.
The conversation continued with my mother. She told me that Kevin had AIDS. I didn't really understand what that meant. I knew it was a disease that many people in the country were dying from, mostly gay men. I knew my mother cared about her friend but found it hard to speak out. Kevin was a nice guy, but if you are gay, it seemed that people would hate you regardless. And if you had a disease like AIDS, you will lose your friends. That seemed sad to me.
I remember when Kevin died after being sick for months. My mother was one of the few coworkers to
attend his service. I overheard the
conversation about how hard it was to find a funeral home who would handle the
body. Basically they would not even embalm
him and only offered a direct cremation.
There was only a picture of him at the service. I am not sure if any of
his family was there. He great up in
Nebraska but spent his final days in Wichita County. He is buried in Clara Cemetery. Clara is a small farming community between
Electra and Burkburnett. He was only 30
years old. He was the first person I
ever knew who had HIV and died of AIDS. It
left a deep impression about the need for understanding, compassion to those
who are affected and about friendships. There
were no community outreach programs at that time. There were not charitable organizations helping
fund prevention and care for AIDS patients like there are today. It was friends and family who cared for them
until they died. They are gone but are not forgotten.
In memory of Kevin James Hull. Born Sept 21, 1960- Died June 22, 1991. Thank
you for being my mother’s friend.
