A Helping Hand

By: DL
(Copyright 2007 by the Author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
dl@tickiestories.us
 

Prologue

A personal message about a tragedy that affects us all

I saw a link to the Memorial Page for Ryan Skipper at the end of one of my fellow author's stories. I clicked it, and was so emotionally moved by the barbaric, brutal and senseless killing depicted in the reports that I read. I've spent many hours since, endlessly listening to the beautifully haunting melody from Ryan's page with tears streaming down my face, constantly reminded of the story that I searched out via Google.

The distressing tale of Ryan's brutal and senseless death probably affected me so deeply because of the 'gay bashing' of the youth I came across in 1984. If you have already read any of A Helping Hand, you will already know that it is about 'Juan' and the effect my finding him had on my life. As I type this on the 29th of March 2007, it strikes me as both ironic — and so, so sad — that so long after the personal events of 1984, hatred and intolerance is still alive and flourishing in the world we inhabit.

I make no apology for being a homosexual: I didn't consciously choose to be one; nor for being a Christian — even though many of my fellow 'Christians' would deny me that title — I do believe in everything they do, but happen to love another man: does that make me any less of a Christian than them?

Having seen Ryan's Memorial Page, I had intended to write a brief exposition of my feelings and add a link to the page so that it would receive (hopefully) a wider audience. Whilst I was still emotionally wiped out my fellow author sent me the text of his own message of despair; he said it far better than I ever could, so as I'm incapable at this moment, of finding words to describe my feelings [and believe me when I say that anyone who knows me will have difficulty in imagining me speechless], I have posted it below (with his permission) — I hope that you will take a few moments to read it — and that its message may be spread far and wide.

Hogan wrote after his dedication of Chapter 12 of his story to Ryan Keith Skipper:

Right now I feel so many emotions it hurts so bad; tears are rolling down my cheeks. I feel rage, sadness, disbelief and shock.

I never even met him or knew of Ryan Skipper till he was brutally slaughtered because he was gay. It's Matthew Shepard all over again nine years later, except it didn't even become national news this time. Nothing has been learned and nothing has changed. The victim was blamed again in the local media. Some say wait, we don't know it was a hate crime yet. I ask you: how can you slit a man's throat, stab him 20 times, then — after he's already dead — pull him out of the car and smash his face in, and it not be hate that motivated that? The anger, sadness and rage in me are unbearable. All I can think is how can people be so evil towards others. My heart goes out to his family and friends. I feel their pain; I feel Ryan's horror as he was dying.

Did God spare him the pain? Or did he endure the worst man can give? MAN? … these weren't men, they were nothing more than demons. Even animals don't kill like this. My rage for what they did to him, to me, and to all of us is GREAT. I'm mad because I have fear and hate in my heart and it's not tolerable. Hate is a taste in my mouth I'll never understand or care for. I should be forgiving these monsters for their ignorance, and hoping justice will be served. But what kind of justice will bring a 25-year-old man back to his friends and family? What justice would it be to allow those who senselessly killed him to die with a painless needle, or to live life in prison being raped and turned into a bitch for the rest of their lives?

Will God have mercy on the culprits? Will Ryan in heaven forgive them? Will homophobes even give this insane act a second thought? Or will they just say 'another one down, too many more to go'? Will they continue to teach their children the learned trait to hate others that are different from themselves? Will they still evoke religion as justification for such an act of evil? Will these guy's families feel the guilt they should, for what their children have turned out to be? Will they hang their heads in shame and take responsibility for breeding monsters? Do my own friends understand why this hurts me so bad? — After all, I never even knew him. Will they understand my pain, my rage, and my scorn of man for this evil act?

Will our so-called elected leaders stand up on their mighty podiums and still try to ban us from our civil rights, as the rest of human beings have? Or will we have to endure many more years of unjust evil thrust upon us, for loving who we love?

When will this nightmare I can't wake up from, ever end?

I'm left with tears, hate, fear and rage … Please God … take these from me and make this, too, pass. Amen

Hogan

IN MEMORIAM

Ryan Keith Skipper

28th April, 1981 — 14th March, 2007

Requiescat in Pace

The Memorial Page I mentioned above can be found at the link below. Its a beautiful tribute and shows the depth of love felt for Ryan by his many friends and I'm sure that Ryan is looking down on it with pride and love.

http://www.myspace.com/inmemoryofryan07

Two people have seen this text prior to it being posted; both made helpful and telling comments. One of them said to me as he read it "You do know, don't you, that often the culprits are themselves Gays?" I agreed that I did. But on reflection, isn't it a sad statement of the values our 'civilised' society holds? That youngsters should be so unable to come to terms with themselves, that they can find it easier to kill another human being, than admit to family and friends that they are Gay? Until such time as you and I are able to live openly in our respective communities, tragic cases like Ryan's death will continue to occur.

I realise that I am in no position to lecture as its taken me forty years to force myself to stop 'hiding in the closet' — but I would like to share this thought with you:

Do we, by hiding ourselves, not help perpetuate the myth that 'There are only a few of them; they aren't normal.' And perhaps if we were more open, more visible, that myth might begin to fade; and along with it the deeply-ingrained homophobic attitudes that may well have led to Ryan's death.

For myself, after four days of ceaselessly grieving over a young man that I never physically met; anguishing about how his unimaginable death could possibly fulfil God's plan — even questioning if there really was a God — I am at last able to accept that Ryan is beyond hurt now, in a better place. I hope that I will finally get to meet him when God decides to call me. Until then I will mark Ryan's birth and death dates each year until my time comes — or society can accept 'queers' in its midst, unremarked. I want no misunderstanding: this is NOT just about Ryan; he's simply the catalyst that awoke me to the shameful way we have allowed ourselves to be sidelined in society.

I will no longer hide myself in the closet; that door is firmly shut — with me on the outside. And yes, I realise that for me its relatively painless, as I happen to live in a place that doesn't have the deeply homophobic culture that some places nearer to Ryan's home do.

I hope that Ryan will get some satisfaction from seeing that his death has not gone unremarked — and I am not arrogant enough to mean by me; if you visit Ryan's Memorial Page via the link above, you will see that since the 45 'Friends' he had when I first visited, that number has grown to 295 as I type — that his passing has indeed made a difference. Ryan is, I believe, finally resting in peace; secure in the arms of God and the affection and love of his friends.

As John Donne said:

No man is an island, entire of itself … every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main … if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were … any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls it tolls for thee.