Riddle, Raymond D

Hello old neighbor around the corner in south Murray, Utah, while I was in high school: 1971-74. I met you once later in 1984 after we had both moved to San Francisco in the Midnight Sun video bar there on 18th Street near Castro. You told me about your cabaret performances. You also mentioned that you had been sick but were still optimistic. I didn't know until years later that this was just a few months before you died. I hope you are happy, wherever you are Ray. And hope to see you again someday.

I remember how you were friends with Jeff and John. I taught at the high school and only met you a few times, because of Jeff. I am so very sorry you passed so early in life. It seems that life can be cruel to some souls. You were a good person. Those were terribly confused times. Hope you are smiling high and at peace. John died in a motorcycle accident. Jeff is still alive in Tacoma. I struggle on. You are remembered.

Hello, my old friend. Well, you weren't old when you passed away, but it's been a lot of years since I walked into the office that morning, a couple days after you passed, and got the news. It was horrible. I ran screaming to my office, and locked myself in there for a good, long cry. How could it be? I had just seen you not three days before in your room at Ralph K. Davies hospital, where the hollow-eyed nurses watched the parade of families & friends visiting all those young, once vibrant, beautiful, now very sick men. I was shocked. I cursed the fates for taking my good friend away. You were my champion, and such a fighter, Ray. Diagnosed in the very early days of the epidemic, right after you showed me the small article in the Chron about the gay flu that was going around. People were actually dying of the flu? Impossible. But then, we believed we were invincible. You fought to keep your life force burning bright for 4 long years. It was a testament to what I already knew about you -that you were strong, resilient. I remember your roommate, Bill, showing me the brand new (still in their packages) clothing you'd bought and carefully piled in your closet, never having worn them. He looked at me and said, Isn't that just crazy? All these clothes.... It hadn't clicked with him, the fact that you had begun losing so much weight, your clothes hung on your once nice trim frame. As I stood in your hospital room the day before you passed, the nurse said you were down to about 90 pounds. You had lost a few pounds less than about half your original weight. Yet you still had your sense of humor, in between your fugue states. I miss you, Emma. Shortly after you passed, I had the most magnificent dream about you. A friend escorted me to a bar stool in front of some curtains. As I sat down, the curtains flew open, and there you were! In full-flame mode you greeted me with your familiar Hi Doll! I jumped up and said, RAY!, and marveled at how good you looked for about a

My friend Ray - We both moved to San Francisco at the same time, and quickly became roommates. Your were my first (and only) roommate in S.F. We lived in an old brothel that had been converted into apartments. It was such a great time, and our little apartment was soooo cute (bare, but cute)... Our apartment building caught on fire, and we didn't have enough money to move into another one, so I ended up moving back home with my parents, however after a taste of San Francisco, I couldn't revert to mowing lawns, doing dishes, washing Dad's car etc... So as you know, I joined the Navy. I spent 10 years on active duty, and every time our ship would pull into S.F. I tried finding my friend and roommate RAY... When I learned you joined the angels, I was extremely sad. You always made me laugh, and we had some wonderful times 'learning' San Francisco as young gay men in the late 70's.... I still think fondly of you, and miss you a lot. When I see your picture, it still makes me SMILE ---- Keep the rest of the angels singing...