It was in the high noon sun that Alan and I were walking around the streets, trying to avoid crowds which, without pause, stopped him for photos and autographs.
This Convention has more LGBT delegates than any prior gathering, and the LGBT Caucus had one of their meetings today in the early afternoon. Alan was going to give a pep talk. We strolled together and talked about our experiences at the Convention and the parties we attended and overlapped at the night before.
Inside the Convention hall, the Caucus room was overflowing. Word was abuzz that additional Congressmembers were suddenly dropping by. Press was crawling about. Off to the side was a row of seats, San Francisco Mayor Newsom and his new wife, Jennifer Seibel, were seated, waiting for Gavin to speak. Alan and I go over to join them, and I sit in between Alan and Gavin to reintroduce them. When Newsom didn’t recognize me, I place myself by saying I was the formerly homeless Youth Commissioner who used to debate him on his homeless policies, who years later gave a speech introducing him at Harvard. He nods slightly, either as if he is not recalling these facts, or as if he is wondering why the universe has seen fit to place me next to him again. We chat about what I do with my life now. I switch chairs to have he and Alan speak, Jennifer jumps over to chat with me about media stuff.
We are chatting, the four of us sitting there, when from the podium, the announcement comes: Del Martin has died.
The room was packed with delegates, frozen in place. We all go silent.
The announcer says that this is the first moment the news is breaking.
We have a moment of silence.
There is a lot in the air out here. One component of the buzzing is this inevitable sense of history being made in numerous ways. Even that Caucus gathering - with high level politicians continuing to pile in to speak, pushing back the late agenda, and making 2008 seem very much not like 2004 - had a sense of some hard fought for change.
And then, while history is being made, we are reminded that history is also always being lost.
We all owe a lot to Del. We all owe whatever variation we believe of supporting thoughts and/or prayers to Phyllis.
Shortly after the announcement, Newsom got up to give his speech. He starts, choked up, and states that Dell:
“Was someone who defined love, devotion, and constancy. She defined, from my perspective, what marriage is supposed to be about.”
I can tell you that there has been an inordinate about of crying witnessed (um, and maybe experienced!) at this Convention.
May the fierce pioneering spirit of Del be with us as we continue with this week and working to take our country back.
