Portland Revisited - Part One

Lately, I've been organizing thoughts in my mind for a blog entry about the effects I've experienced the past couple months as I've been remembering & revisiting my life in the 90's. It hasn't been easy. And it hasn't been difficult. It's been the most challenging thing I've loved doing. Kind of similar to my experience in training. But instead of a physical challenge, it's been an emotional one. And emotional challenges aren't bad things. They're wonderful. They're the rush of jumping out of an airplane (and the relief of landing safely!). They're sharing memories of good times. And remembering arguments or dark periods in a relationship; the things that helped you grow and love even stronger. In writing the blog, there's also been a release for me. A joy in the groove of the memories, an honor in recognizing the community I was part of, a love of all those who've touched my life.

I spent most of the 90's in Portland. And here I am again. Forty-eight hours into my visit I can only say it's been a wonderful trip. I'll have much to write about with my visits to Cascade AIDS Project, lunch with Judith, coffee with Ena, dinner with Gay, and all the other plans I have for catching up with close friends, former colleagues, and even volunteers who once worked with me.

Today's entry is another visit to that era... those formative years... that moment that now seems like it was eons ago. While touring CAP's new offices, Judith showed me a wall of photos taken of the Teen-to-Teen program through the years. There was Sam C., Lynzee, Cydne (remember the beach retreat?). Ena flexing her muscles. A bunch of photos of teens that came long after I left the program. And there was even a photo with Paul Moore in it. Not sure why. My memory tells me Paul's focus at CAP was in working with the research for the not-yet-approved oral HIV test. And with the Men's Prevention Program. But I do have some vague recollection of his association with Teen-to-Teen. And also with the support group I started. Paul was very active in HIV work... put his mark on a lot of projects. So he attended the group a couple of times because he was young like us and I really needed participants for those first weeks as the program was kicking off.

As most of us experience in life, it's not "all work and no play." Stephen King's The Shining reminds me of that every time I read it or watch it. And Paul and I gathered with friends for dinners, shows, drinks, coffees, cards, whatever. We were truly a community.

Paul, Me, Tom and Jack

One of my favorite memories is the night Paul, Tom, Jack and I ventured out to the gay bars after a council meeting. It was a rare adventure for us. I was the youngest and went out often. Paul was an occasional bar-goer. I don't think Tom or Jack went out much at all at that point in their lives. It was 1995, we must have been celebrating something, and somehow, someone had a camera and I have this amazing image of us taken as we trekked from one pub to the next. I think it was Tom's camera and he gave each of us a copy of this photo. Jack says he has his copy on his bulletin board above his desk or on his desk or something. I need to ask Tom if he still has the original.

As Judith showed me the photo of Paul and the teens today I asked how he was or if he was even in Portland still. She looked up at me (I'm kinda tall... Judith, not so much), and said, "Jim, we lost Paul about eight years ago. Hadn't you heard?"

No. I hadn't. Not 'til today.

I started crying. Right there in the CAP offices. Not behind some closed door, or in the restroom, or in Judith's office. No... just right there in the corridor.

I may be eight years late buddy but I'd still like to say goodbye. Your legacy lives on. Before she shared the news, she had talked and talked about how successful the testing program at CAP is now. How you were really the one who kick-started it. How they have this whole group of volunteer testers/counselors now because the demand has required the program to grow so much. And your photo's on the wall there at CAP. Hamming it up on the beach with the teen volunteers. And I have this one. But, more than any photo, I have the wonderful memory of you - and of our laughs - and how we combined forces and fought the good fight - and of the hangover we had after that pub crawl. Ugh.

Thank you for sharing a part of your miracle with me. That photo's going on my desk now too. And all those memories - even the hangover - will be with me when I ride.

Be well, my friend...

J-