Carey

Dear Glenn,

Sometimes late at night when I can't sleep, I sit at the computer and Google names of people I know or knew. That's what I was doing last night.

When I was in high school in Kentucky I met a guy, who I later came to view as my 'brother'. He had moved to Kentucky not long after his mother had died, which had devastated him. He became a handsome, charismatic man and as time passed he moved all around the country, while I moved to Chicago~ but we always stayed in touch. I loved him more than can be said.

When he died in California at the age of 37, I was in charge of his meager estate and his remains. His ashes were shipped to me and I arranged for a memorial service in Kentucky, where I would meet his father and give him the ashes.

The service was presided over by an Episcopal priest, an old friend to both of us from college. My parents attended, as did his father who had driven up from Florida, and a few old friends.

I'm not a particularly religious person and I don't really think where your body ends up after death is very important. It was important that his ashes were handed over to someone else who loved him, so after the service I gave them to his father.

He told me where my 'brother' would be buried, but I didn't store that away in my head. I had my memories and my love for him... and a belief that his spirit had moved onto somewhere.... and it was enough.

Fast forward to last night... awake at three a.m. and Googling the name Carey Junkin. There was a new entry since the last time I'd looked. One that referred to a cemetery. So I went to the site and realized that you had taken photos of every stone there.

My breath caught.

I scrolled and scrolled, page after page and then.... there it was. His name. His birthday. His day of death.




An adjoining photograph was obviously of his mothers stone. So they are close to one another again.



Something in me that I hadn't realized was there sighed, relaxed, let go. I went back to the first picture~ a long shot of the entire cemetery and I scrolled through others just to see what the area looks like in more detail.




I am writing this to thank you for all the work you put into documenting this. In finding your photographs, something settled in me~ finally.

I was born in North Carolina and have always wanted to go back and see what it's like. I know it's a beautiful place and now, thanks to you, I have another reason.

I just wanted you to know that all the work you did gave a great gift to me~ just someone wandering the internet after midnight.

Thank you.




Carey and his lover, Walter were gay activists who organized The Wedding during the March on Washington D.C. in 1987 for gay and lesbian rights. Over 2000 couples were 'married' that day~ long before acceptance of same-sex unions became more commonplace.

The rainbow is one symbol of gay and lesbian life. Next to a country road, outside of a tiny town in North Carolina sits the cemetery I refer to. The one his father took him to. The name of it is Rainbow United Methodist.