Jim and I in 1985 in L.A. when my college roomie, John Bertsch, and I visited him.

I met handsome Jim in Austin in 1981 while a freshman at U.T. at Tex's Colorado Street Bar disco. He had such a warm personality; everyone got a crush on Jim.

1979-1982ish Jim opened three locations of a stylish gay men's clothing store called "Sports Locker"; one in West Hollywood, one in San Francisco, and one in Houston.

Jim was with Paul Kellogg for 37 years. I'd only met Paul once, when he and Jim visited Tom and I in Houston, but had kept up a light correspondence with Jim for years. Paul threw the sweetest celebration of life for Jim. The eulogy emphasized how many people's lives were touched by Jim. One of his previous students came from S. Korea to pay their respects. There was catered food at the University Club of USC. And after that, entertainment: I hear "One, two, three, four!" somewhere behind me and in comes an upbeat USC marching band. They were very energetic and fun. A perfect change of pace as Jim's celebration wound down.

One of a gazillion smiling photos Jorge's friends took

I knew Jorge for years in an anonymous fellowship. Nearly always smiling. Such a sweet, sweet soul.

As another friend better wrote, "Jorge had a unique and rare light, he accepted everyone wholeheartedly and loved unconditionally. His contagious laughter, intelligence, and creativity never failed to impact the people he came across. He gave all of his heart to every person, and the very best, most encompassing and comforting hugs."

Roadkill, longtime leatherman, friend, presenter, and gay rights activist, died of a suspected heart attack. This saddens me deeply.

Here is the bio he wrote in February 2003 for the San Diego Master/slave Conference:

Roadkill is a forgetful, aging leather demi-tyrant with idosyncratic oldguard/newguard values and an arthritic spine. He is also a licensed psychologist living in San Diego, Calfornia. Now retired, his private practice included many kinky clients and he remains professionally involved in the study of erotic identity and behavoir. 36 years ago, age 16, he placed a personal ad in a BDSM publication resulting in his first kinky scene. Most of his adult life has been spent with a significant other of one kind or another. He has been a kouros, a lover, a leather newbie, a daddy, a slave, and has now settled comfortably into being a Master. Active in the organized leather community for 15 years, he has presented workshops around the country on single tail skills, flogging, temporary piercing, edge play, fire play, SM 101, SM roles, relationships, switching, bottoming, old guard values, and "The Meanings and Uses of Pain." He is a founding member of Delta International, and a member of the 15 Association and Chicago Hellfire Club.

I first met "RK" when he became lovers with my best friend, John Bertsch from 1993-2002. John met RK at The March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation -- a large political rally that took place in Washington, D.C. on April 25, 1993. Organizers estimated that 1,000,000 attended the March. Separately, I was at The March as well with a contingent of ACT-UP friends from Houston.

The two of them met when they were in a line to go into the Washington Monument and it wasn't moving. For a long time. Finally John said to this handsome guy behind him (RK), "Do you want to get out of here?" They went to RK's hotel. There, there was a bag labeled "Toyz". John asked "What's in there?" That was his introduction to this handsome guy as a leatherman.

Later, RK travelled to Austin and I met him at a going away party for John, who was selling his home and moving to San Diego to be with him. I didn't like him at first, nor did he like me. I was a bit loud at that time, and RK was a bit shy. We both wondered what John saw in the other. But we both respected John's judgment. And time would prove him right. We became deep friends.

(Prior to my meeting Roadkill he had been director of the San Diego Gay Center in the later '80s.)

Roadkill and John moved in together circa 1996. Later that year I traveled from Houston to San Diego, where I had lived as a kid, to see them. The photo is from when Roadkill took me to Black's Beach, where we sat and enjoyed cigars and talked as the sun waned.

Enjoying cigars at Black's Beach

In the years to come RK would take on an exceptional live-in slave named pluG, and for a while a Master of his own named Buster in SFO. John would take on handsome and dear Graylin/Sigma. After about 10 years, RK and John wound down their live-in lover relationship but never stopped loving each other deeply.

I returned to San Diego in 2003 when John Bertsch had moved into a home of his own. RK, who had been active with a leathermen's group called SandMen, began hosting men's parties at his home. Eventually the group became named "Superpigs." I was an inaugural member. It was at one of those parties in 2004 that I first met bobby, who became my slave a year later. I affectionately nicknamed him "dog". I am forever grateful for that connection. My leather family and I enjoyed working setup/teardown those months and years. A quiet time good for visiting. RK and I connected in part as leather Masters with leather slaves. My slave jeff and his slave pLUG were fast friends.

After several years of hosting each and every month -- and pLUG's failing health -- RK wound down the parties.

Roadkill also hosted a men's BDSM skills-learning group called "Pain Guild." In it, guys were given a binder filled with BDSM topics and sat, naked, learning and doing each week. I was charged with presenting on "Things That Pinch" July 6, 2005, and "Master/slave & Daddy/boy relationships" August 31, 2005. The following year, me and my slave jay received an excellence in presentation award from the Pain Guild for the Things That Pinch presentation the previous summer.

Somewhere in here Roadkill became one of my three sponsors into perhaps the premier men's BDSM club in the world, the Chicago Hellfire Club, in which he was a member. Around this time he was also a founding member of Delta Brotherhood International, another large men's BDSM group, started in part when CHC would not yet allow transmen. (That CHC policy changed sometime before 2020.)

In the years to come, RK would enjoy the company of Jeff Rosenberg, Jim Kinney (with his big beautiful dog), then Kevin Hewitt.

He loved reading, travel, good food -- and, especially, good conversation.

He had mostly retired October 31 from his counseling practice, and was looking forward to spending more time with Kevin.

Here's a fun thing to share, a memory from my friend Mark O'Keefe:

This is my most embarrassing story ever, but it seems right to tell it. So it happened in 1997 when I was Mr. San Diego Leather. I was invited to a party at Roadkill’s. I’m dripping in cow. Lid, gloves and two full bags of toys. I had an event to attend and it was going to be over after the door closed to his party. But Roadkill said come anyway and I’ll leave the door open for you. So at his house there is a driveway that is very steep, so I decided to take the stairs. It’s midnight, the glass front door is open. I walk in and the dog started barking at me. I’m trying to calm the dog down saying “It’s ok, I supposed to be here.” Then I start thinking, he doesn’t have a dog. I look up, there are four sets of middle aged eyes looking at me. They said “We think you want the house next door.” Pointing Roadkill’ house. I apologize profusely. Then I’m thinking now I have to tell Roadkill I have outed him to his neighbors. What were the chances the door would be the same door and open?! So I do take the steep driveway and finally reach my real destination. I tell Roadkill with much hesitation what has just transpired. He starts to laugh at me in that maniacal tone and says, “That’s the funniest thing I have heard in a long time!” But wait, there’s more. Roadkill host a party every year called the Pink Party, where he invites all kinds of neighbors and friends. So I’m hanging at the party and these people come over to me I don’t know. They say “Do you remember us, you came to our house one night at midnight.” I just want to crawl into a hole. Still not the end. Every time he runs into the neighbors from that point on, they tell Roadkill to say “Hello” to me. This is one of my favorite stories to tell. Sir, you will be missed.

And, lastly, this beautiful eulogy, including passionate advocacy words written by John McConnell himself (I've bolded those, below) as he was retiring just two months before:

Organized by Van Ethan Levy and T.R. Philomena (Tiki).

No words do justice for the work, passion, advocacy, love and so much more John brought to this world. He dedicated his life to social justice and created space in his life, home, work and heart to assisting those whose identity(ies) were othered. A common thread we share is John’s support for each of us who combat stigma through a social justice lens; even, when he did not hold these identity(ies).

His door was always open and he created beautiful spaces for people to gather and share food, thoughts, and so much more. Let us gather and share space in celebration of his life where we can virtually gather, support, celebrate, and grieve together. I leave you with some of the work he has done in his life, which is merely not even the tip of the iceberg of the lives he has touched with his mentorships, internships, friendships, love, and so much more. He expressed his life’s work, in this way.

“After some thirty years of practice, I retired from private practice on October 31, 2020. At 70 years of age, it just felt like it was time to move on from clinical practice to an active retirement with the man I love. The practice of psychotherapy has given me the privilege of knowing many wonderful people at a depth which is rarely possible, even among friends. The work invited me into the lives of people diverse across cultures, incomes, religions, sexualities, vocations, intellect and outlook.

When I started university studies in 1972, the entire Gender, Sexuality, and Relationship Diverse (GSRD) spectrum was diagnosed as perverse and pathological, including homosexuality. I have practiced in an era in which it has been radical to assert that – on the contrary – almost all of this diversity is a normal variation that when lived well is healthy and joyful. It has been radical to assert that for many souls these variations are not – as we were taught – pathological barriers to intimacy, but rather the essential path to and expression of joyful intimacy. I now refer to BDSM simply as Spicy. My assertion that spicy and GSRD is OK has been as radical and discomforting to some colleagues as was my assertion that homosexuality was OK, when I came out as gay in the 1960s. Often the discomfort has been felt on both sides.

Most of us know that psychotherapy requires an ongoing discipline – or perhaps just a habitual awareness – of keeping a dual perspective of “the other” as both “an unknowable other” and as “the same human stuff as oneself.” This is a life-perspective, earned by practice, and a perspective I value greatly. Like many in this field, I did not choose it as much as I felt called to it. I am grateful to share this vocation with so many exceptionally warm, caring, kind and bright people. I am grateful for Interns who have kept my eyes fresh. I am grateful for the rich friendships I have found among colleagues. Most of all I am of course grateful to all the patients who entrusted their hidden selves with me. From each I have learned. In all, it has been a wonderful vocation.”

Dear friend, today, we celebrate your life. We mourn your passing. Thank you for each day, conversation, and moment you generously shared with us. In the words of the great philosopher Marcus Aurelius “It is not death that a man should fear, but rather he should fear never beginning to live.” Thank you for the days you lived with us, for us, and among us. We were graced with your brilliance, beauty, and courage. How we will miss you good friend.

Twyla's husband Wayne worked for me at Enron. I adored Wayne (in later job references I said Wayne was so good that if I could clone him I would have), and Twyla. She was brilliant, and incredibly sweet. Tall. TALL. She had Marfan Syndrome. I know little about it, other than Wayne had told me tall with a long neck is characteristic of it and that her life expectancy was lessened by it -- as in she could die at any moment; so she got many extra years in. Took on pro-bono work in her legal career because it was the right thing to do. Left law when one of her free clients filed a merit-less complaint. At Enron I brought Twyla in as an extra hand in network / software deployment a few times, as she was computer and network savvy and always a pleasure to be around. I have sent her a happy birthday note every year since I left. Wayne sent me an e-mail so that I'd know. The world is a lesser place without her.

Here's Twyla's formal obit:
Twyla was born in Houston on November 1, 1962 and graduated from Regan High School (1980), the University of Houston (1984) and Texas Tech School of Law (1987). A long time Houston Heights resident, Twyla started her early career working at Davis Hardware, the business owned by her family. Later, she founded her own law practice eventually transitioning into information technology, holding managerial positions in IT at Rice University and MD Anderson Cancer center. As an enthusiastic scrapbook maker, crafter, card maker and player of board games, Twyla was active in several groups around town and loved participating in events. She was a world traveler, visiting over 30 countries including Russia, China, Egypt and traveling above the Arctic Circle. But most of all, Twyla loved her family. And sitting in her little orange car in the driveway, windows down, while reading. In lieu of flowers, family request memorial donations to The Marfan Foundation, 22 Manhasset Ave., Port Washington, NY 11050.

This photo captures a lot. What a sweet, sweet man. We connected back in 1999-2000 during the inaugural SAADE mentors program, and I liked the heck out of him. He was a deeply honorable man. He went quickly of a ruptured aneurysm.

Here is Andrew (left) with Michael Horowitz (right), likely at an Inferno.

I loved slave david stein. he was instrumental in nurturing the relationship between me and my first leatherslave (more at How MASTER Wes & dave developed into MASTER & slave) And just a dear man. I shall miss him indeed.

From his personal imprint bio page David Stein:

photo copyright Sir Roberto

Born in Pittsburgh in 1948, david stein grew up in Western Pennsylvania, where he started tying himself up at age 5. He graduated high school three years early and went off to study philosophy at NYU in 1965 and later at Northwestern University, which awarded him a Master’s degree — little did they know! When the academic job market collapsed in the early 1970s, he fell into publishing and in 1977 landed back in New York City, where he got a job as a magazine editor and came out in the SM-leather scene. He’s lived in New York ever since except for a year in San Francisco to produce Ask the Man Who Owns Him and Boots, Bondage, and Beatings.

In 1980 david co-founded Gay Male S/M Activists (GMSMA), once the world’s largest gay SM organization, and served it in many capacities, from president to newsletter editor and program chairman, for the next 11 years. It was for the GMSMA statement of purpose, back in 1983, that david coined “safe, sane, and consensual s/m,” now a ubiquitous catch phrase he has mixed feelings about. Retired from GMSMA, in 1999 he co-founded New York City’s gay chapter of Masters And slaves Together (MAsT), from which he is also now retired.

For six years he wrote the “Bond+Aid” safety column for Bound & Gagged magazine, and in 1996 he guest-edited issue #14 of International Leatherman magazine, devoted entirely to real-world gay Masters and slaves. In 2002 his epic Master/slave novel, Carried Away: An S/M Romance was published by Daedalus. It is now out of print, but a second edition is in the works, along with authorized ebook versions, and will be announced on this site when available.

Over the years, david’s BDSM fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Drummer, DungeonMaster, International Leatherman, Mach, Power Play, and other periodicals as well as the anthologies Leatherfolk edited by Mark Thompson (Alyson), SM Classics edited by Susan Wright (Masquerade), Horsemen: Leathersex Short Fiction edited by Joseph W. Bean (Leyland), Men on the Edge edited by Christopher Pierce (StarBooks), and the “novelology” The Academy: Tales of the Marketplace by Laura Antoniou (Mystic Rose). Some of his writing is available online at his website, as is a biographical essay that covers his earlier career in more detail than here.

david has presented at numerous leather and SM events, including the groundbreaking International MAsT Weekend in Atlanta in 1999, several times at the Leather Leadership Conference, and most years at the Master/slave Conference in or near Washington, DC. In 2006 he was the keynote speaker at the South Plains Leatherfest in Dallas.

In October 2013, slave david entered service to Sir Brian F., currently residing in Wellesley, MA, and hopes to remain Sir Brian’s slave for the rest of his life.

And his personal site at www.boybear.us continues:

Since October 29, 2013, i have been in service to Sir Brian F., who then lived in Jersey City, New Jersey, with His non-M/s partner. In July 2014, however, they moved to Eastern Massachusetts near Boston. It's tough not being able to get together more than a few times a year, but Sir and i keep in touch via daily emails and weekly Skype sessions. He oversees my diet and exercise, and from time to time gives me service assignments that call on my skills as a writer, editor, and researcher. He also supports my continuing efforts to help educate gay men and others about ethical Mastery/slavery and safer, more responsible BDSM.

Given my age (67 on July 17, 2015) and state of health, i expect that this will be my last M/s relationship, and i hope that i have finally learned enough from my prior — mostly much shorter — M/s bonds to not screw it up this time! Despite some big stumbles over the past couple of years, i seem now to be able to satisfy Sir Brian most of the time. And even though He is only a little more than half my age, He has earned my deep respect and complete trust. i am extremely grateful to be one of the first members of His leather family, which He calls the Order of the Seekers. Sir Brian is one of the very best Masters i have gotten to know, and it is a privilege, an honor, and a joy to serve Him in any way He requires. Sir, thank You, Sir!

The silver chain and turquoise disc in the photo above, which for a long time was the main photo on this page, were gifts from my Guardian at the time, Master Steve, founder of Butchmanns Inc.. It was Master Steve who helped me rediscover my “heart of slave” after a couple of painfully ended M/s relationships made me feel that i could no longer follow this path. His teaching was that “heart of slave” is innate, and though being collared and owned by a Master fulfills a slave’s nature, it does not create it. So even when i was not in service, i still saw myself as someone who exists in order to serve and whose greatest happiness comes from obedience — despite my ego’s tendency to mount occasional rebellions, LOL!

Master Steve retired from the leather lifestyle in 2008 and is now a full-time Buddhist priest living relatively quietly. It was a great honor to belong to his extended family for ten years, and i will always be grateful both for his teaching and for his letting me be a part of his life.

This website exists to be of service to Masters, slaves, bondage enthusiasts, and others who share some of my interests and enthusiasms. Except for a few photos of me and illustrations created for some of my writing, the pages consist of text and links only, and while the content frequently concerns the erotic, nothing here is obscene. Still, if homosexuality, bondage, consensual slavery, or SM practices offend you, i respectfully advise against following any of the links below.

So that is my friend slave david stein. A good friend to slaves and Masters everywhere.

"Harley Ridin' Harv" was Daddy Barry's running buddy years ago. In 2003, in the line for The Bears' Meatloaf Dinner fundraiser, Harvey was the one who introduced his shy friend, Daddy Barry, to the guy in the tall boots with the cute buns -- me. As Daddy Barry relayed often, he'd turned to Harvey and said "I want *that*!" Harvey came up, asked if I rode, and when I said yes, wrote a note that said "Come ride!" A few months later, I did. That ride was really when Daddy Barry and I got to connect.

Acquaintance John Keasler writes "The real crime here is that young people in our country and our city are forced to live in tent hovels below our rich homes and businesses."

His death was from liver failure, a result of chronic hepatitis B which he contracted in his 20s.

A "plug" to potentially help others: Organ transplantations save lives, but only if you help. Each day about 70 people receive an organ transplant, but another 16 people on the waiting list die because not enough organs are available. All you need to do is say yes to organ and tissue donation on your driver's license. Talk to your family members about organ and tissue donation so they know your wishes. Even if you've signed something, your family may be asked to give consent before donation can occur.

Recently our filmmaker friend Alpha utilized Paul Bright's editing talents for a new film, DRIVE. It's gala premiere was at the Austin Gay and Lesbian Film Festival August 16, 2006. Tim and Paul had a "conversation" that afternoon. Tim did not go to the premiere. When Paul returned home, Tim was dead.

Tim's boy describes the death in ways that sound like a suicide to me. Suicide is a long-term solution to a short-term problem. It is a "solution" that leaves a broad swath of pain behind that lingers for years. Want ANY reason to live for just one day, despite whatever intense feelings are going on? Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 [that's 1-800-273-TALK].

What was most helpful for me with my own suicidal feelings when I was in college? Hearing from my friend Cyndi how she would not feel sorry for me; no, indeed not. She made it extremely clear: "I'd be SO ANGRY at you I'd come to your grave, squat over it, and PISS ON IT!!!" That vivid imagery shocked me out of my self-centered obsession and awakened me, apparently forever, to the impact trying to take my own life would have on others. I remember it to this day, and that's been over twenty years ago.

My leather mentor Dan Kalin committed suicide. My mother chose to end her own life. And it appears Tim also committed suicide. That's three people who had major roles in my life journey. There are at least two others specifically named on this page who also committed suicide. Apparently suicide is more pervasive than many talk about. So talk about it. Get it out. Talking about suicide here won't prevent it totally; but it may reduce it.

Tim is the person responsible for Tim's suicide, but Paul is an easy target for the anger some survivors are currently unable to properly assign toward Tim. My thoughts go out to Paul, the surviving boy, and the family. All are obviously in considerable pain.

A Mardi Gras-style celebration of Tim's life was held in Austin on August 27th. It was beautiful, in a lovely setting. And, from what was openly shared, I gather that crystal meth had been one component in the time before Tim's death.

Tim is survived by, well, heck, everyone who's still around. But more specifically, by his partner, Paul, his boy, Thomas, his former boy, Jim, his former Daddy, Tom, and his former Master, Officer Wes.

This picture really shows the gentle warmth that Tim could radiate. Here we are at a New Year's Eve party December 31, 1999, in Festival Hill (boondocks, Texas, but fun) that is themed "Come as your opposite." So I am wearing a leatherboy's collar, and Tim is wearing my Master's cover. My love to all who miss this uncommonly beautiful man.

About a week ago Daddy Barry mentioned seeing Larry at breakfast -- with a beer. I was saddened. Around this same time, Larry had relationship problems that got physical.

He was found dead by a neighbor friend amidst pills and booze, a suicide note left behind.

Through the years, Robert was a member of the Unicorns of Madison, an editor of Drummer Magazine, chairman of the San Francisco pride parade's leather contingent, an editor of Bound & Gagged, and served on the board of directors of the Leather Archives and Museum and as San Francisco Leather Daddy XIX.

Jeffrey (right) at an SDLOG gathering in 2003

From the Las Vegas Review-Journal: "...Bays was driving a Kawasaki Vulcan 750 at 5:14 a.m. on Paradise Road near Flamingo Road when the driver of a Ford F150 pickup tried to make a U-turn, crossing into the motorcycle's path, Las Vegas police said. The motorcycle skidded a short distance, went down on its left side and slid into the truck, police said. Emergency medical personnel found Bays dead at the scene."

Doug's wife had always wanted to go to a Hard Rock Café. Monday December 29, 2003, he took her to one. Apparently he drank. When they got home there was some arguing. The wife called 911. When the police arrived, they heard two shots. Doug had shot her and then himself.

The family is profoundly sad.

If you want to stop drinking, there is a program of recovery from alcoholism available called Alcoholics Anonymous.

Dean on the NLA:Houston float in the 1993 Houston Gay Pride parade.
He's the third person from the left, under the marquee number 2.

One of many aspects of Dean that I respected was that when he saw a need, he'd do something about it. He helped start NLA:Houston in 1991 and led it for four years. He and Master Jim started what came to be known as boy's Training Camp in 1999. He also started Master's Retreat in 1999. I am thankful to have contributed or participated in each of those endeavors at some level.

In 1993 Dean made a simple request that would have perhaps the longest-reaching leather ramifications for me personally: He asked if I'd do an electrical presentation for NLA:Houston as an official event during Houston Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgender Pride Week. I've been presenting on electrical and other topics ever since.

I also learned about leather community bitch fights with Dean. One time was within NLA:Houston when his long leadership became a sore spot, yet nobody else was willing to step up to the plate. He handled that time with quiet dignity and the gentle challenge, "If you can do a better job, do it." A second time was within NLA:International when the Houston chapter was hosting Living in Leather VIII. All the challenges inherent in the National Leather Association's bifurcated structure of local and national memberships --and dues -- bubbled to a head yet again when the registration process was handled on redundant levels both by the treasurer in San Francisco and the registrar in Seattle. I raised my concern about the seeming wasted duplicated effort. Dean gently said "There's a reason" but he couldn't tell me at the time what it was. In a few months, the treasurer was caught with his hand in the money til. I learned a bit about dignity and trust through these difficult times together. We didn't always agree. And it didn't matter.

These are some of the ways he influenced my personal path.

On a broader level, what I saw in Dean through the years was a man who made a huge difference in helping create thriving leather communities in Houston and Dallas. In addition to the projects mentioned above he was particularly generous in his personal continuation of the leather tradition of mentoring. His work in NLA:International, the many retreats through the years, and his writings touched even more people.

He left things better than when he came into the world.
He loved people and people loved him.
A life well lived.

Officer Wes
San Diego, California

January 8, 2004

Jim outside Mr. S Leather during Folsom Street Fair 1998

Here's Jim's leather obituary:

Longtime old-guard leatherman Jim Babin died November 25, 2001, at the age of 83. He was a charter member of Delta Brotherhood International, as well as a member of Chicago Hellfire Club, The 15 Association, Houston's Brotherhood of Pain and several other BDSM groups.

He earned his Masters degree in Religious Education at the University of Southern California, with additional graduate work done at Berkeley Divinity School. He was involved in many musical endeavors including choir director for several churches and local opera in Port Arthur. He also founded the Port Cities Rescue Mission Ministries, which operates a homeless shelter.

Jim is survived by his slaveboy caspian, his previous slave rick, rick's partner ken, and Jim's son Don. Jim was preceded in death by his gay son Larry in 1992.

[From a leather community member:]
Members:

This is truly one of the saddest e-mails I have ever had to write.

We have lost two of our friends.

Apparently at about 11:00pm last night, shots were heard by neighbors in the 800 block of Shade Tree Drive. It was determined that the shots occurred at the home of Tim and Ssheri. Tim and Ssheri were engaged in an argument that escalated to a dangerous degree. At a point in the exchange, Ssheri attacked Tim with her cane.

Shortly thereafter, Tim called a friend and in tears, explained that he had "killed" Ssheri, and had injected himself with an overdose of insulin, in an effort to take his own life as well.

According to KVUE-TV, Tim also called the police and reported that had shot Ssheri

A call was placed by the friend to EMS, who said that the Austin Police SWAT team was already at the scene. The details are vague at this juncture, but Austin Police have reported that when they arrived, they heard a woman's voice, ordered Tim to leave, and at some point during the event, Tim was shot. The coroner has not determined the source of the bullet that killed Tim. Tim died shortly thereafter. Ssheri was had also suffered a gunshot wound, and was dead when the officers entered the home.

We know that the children in the home are safe and at their Grandmother's.

I must add that all the information I have written here is unconfirmed officially, and was provided by a friend at KVUE-TV, as well as the friend that Tim called during the incident. No one else was there, so none of us will probably ever know exactly what happened. The police are not releasing any more information than what I have reported above, at this time.

What we do know is that we have lost two of our own...two people that gave tirelessly to all of us and to our community.

As many of you know, Ssheri was GWNN's President from February of 2000 until October of that same year. Tim was President of NLA Austin. Both were architects of the last two TLP's, as well as TLP X, planned for this November.

We will miss them both very much.

Leo

From the Austin American-Statesman August 28, 2001:

Police suspect murder-suicide in deaths of South Austin couple
By Jonathan Osborne

American-Statesman Staff

Tuesday, August 28, 2001

A husband and wife have died in their South Austin home in what police are calling a murder-suicide.

Investigators believe 45-year-old Timothy Gregory shot his wife, 47-year-old Sheri Gregory, and then shot himself after a three-hour standoff with police.

Responding to neighbors' reports of gunshots in the 800 block of Shade Tree Drive, at least a dozen officers surrounded the Gregorys' house at about 10:45 p.m.

They spoke to Timothy Gregory before he killed himself, officials said.

"He told officers that he had just killed his wife, that he was armed and he wanted to kill himself," police spokesman Paul Flaningan said. Police would not say whether Timothy Gregory gave a reason for the shooting.

After hearing noises that sounded like a woman's voice, officers believed Sherri Gregory was still alive, police said.

When Gregory walked in front of a window, officer Brendon Hanly fired his shotgun at Gregory but missed.

"In general terms, the officer felt that he might be protecting her life," Sgt. Hector Reveles said.

About 1:30 a.m. Monday, SWAT officers entered the house and found the couple dead in their bedroom. Police said the couple had several children but would not say how many, their ages or where they were at the time of the shooting.

Reveles said he did not believe either victim had a job at the time of the killings.

To see Mother's protective side in action, read her letter in The Letter Wars (aka The Homophobe Hellhole)

(When I became better versed in the leather community I realized that what we had done was negotiate a scene.)

He went to the Leather by Boots store in the bar and asked the cashier for some keys. Turned out they were the clubhouse keys to the Brotherhood of Pain dungeon which was just a couple of blocks away.

We arrived at a two-story place with a tall wooden fence in front. We went through the gate, up the walkway, and Dan unlocked the door. He brought me in. It was everything I'd ever fantasized about: Concrete floors, black walls, and BDSM equipment all around. There was a large "spider's web" of chain or rope for tying people to. There was a bench to bend someone over. There was a strong wooden cross to secure someone to. There were ropes, restraints, floggers and electrical gear. There was a sling. And more. It had everything. Sinister and hot as heck.

Ah, the first time at anything: Those were some of the hottest four hours of my life.

Dan Kalin in the Ripcord (leather bar) contingent in the 1990 Houston Gay Pride parade

**********************************************************
LEATHER TRIBUTE TO
KEATH ELLIS BUTTERWORTH
9-25-1962 - 10-26-2005

Written by Wendy Sue B.

Keath was the definition of a Gentleman. A Gentle Man. He was honorable, caring, loyal, detail oriented, a perfectionist. He fought for the underdog, was not afraid to call out injustice and practiced selfless service in his everyday life. He dedicated himself 200% to anything he volunteered for. Keath was the perfect representative of a Leatherman for our community in his words, spiritual beliefs and in his actions. Keath inspired me.

We met about 20 years ago, in the early 80’s, at the height of the Disco era. We were both young pups, he was in his early 20’s, I was about 25 when we became fast friends. Keath was one of my younger Gay brothers and I his Dyke sister. I don't remember exactly how we met. Maybe it was volunteering at The Gay Center, or for a Gay Pride March, at an AIDs Candlelight Vigil, maybe working at a fund raiser where Keath was interpreting for the deaf, it could have been at Showbiz or BJ’s when Keath and Clint Johnson were together. As young Gay folk, Clint was a mentor and inspiration for both of us and they made quite the cute couple.

When Keath and I met, we in the LGBTQ community had taken on a lot of responsibility in the early years of the Gay Cancer..... GRIDS..... AIDS. Our friends were dying and we cared for PWAs (people with AIDs) before we knew of taking precautions, our friends were dying. No one else but our community was there to take care of our loved ones. Many men had been abandoned by their families when they came out. Gay Leathermen saw the tragic affects early on in the epidemic and were the first to create safer sex practices and educate about the AIDS crisis. As a young man, Keath was one of those Gay Men. The medical community was afraid, many doctors and nurses wouldn't even touch someone who was diagnosed. They wore full surgical gear and their patients never even saw their faces under the masks, some even refused to give treatment or care to PWAs. Keath as a young gay man cared and he did something.

He formed C.C.A.P. (Concerned Citizens for AIDs Patients) with his Mom Carolyn, a few other parents and some of us volunteers from The Gay Center. C.C.A.P was the first group in San Diego to care for PWAs, going into their homes, cooking, cleaning, running errands, making hospital and hospice visits. We did anything and everything to help out back then. Keath was a hairdresser and knew that looking good and a perfect hair cut helped a person feel better, especially Gay Men. He volunteered to give free haircuts to PWAs, along with many other things C.C.A.P. did. Keath’s actions reflected the beautiful upbringing his parents instilled in him. I hold so much admiration and respect for Keath, his Mom and family for their compassion and devotion to the LGBTQ and AIDs impacted community. There were times in those early days when they paid the burial expenses of men who had no one else caring for them. Keath had a fantastic family support system, who give selflessly and share their love unconditionally.

During one of our many heart to heart talks, I asked Keath why he was so dedicated to volunteering. Why put so much energy into C.C.A.P.? Why not be out there playing, dancing in the discos and living life like other young gay men his age? Keath replied that he hoped someone would be there for him and his family, if they ever had a need. How could he expect help, if he didn't give to others now, when he had the chance to do so. It tore his heart up to see PWAs, friends, men dying alone in a hospital bed with no one there for them except the nursing staff. Volunteering became a second career for Keath and he loved giving of himself completely.

Keath perfected the art of service, to the men he loved and served in his relationships and in his service to Community. His actions spoke volumes and rarely can I remember Keath raising his voice in anger toward anyone. A few years ago, Keath and I were on a Club X workshop panel speaking on ‘Leather and Spirituality’. We all represented a wide spectrum of beliefs, Keath as a Christian from MCC and I as a Jewish, Dianic Witch. We both spoke of consciously bringing our personal spirituality to everyday life combining Mind, Body and Spirit in our sensual expressions. Keath was a deeply spiritual person, a true Christian who carried unconditional love for everyone in his heart. He lived his life ministering, threw his actions and by his convictions trying to create a more peaceful loving world. There is an empty space on our planet and it is my hope that each of us in Keath’s honor will shoulder a little bit more in the challenge of healing the Earth.

I will cherish the last moment I saw Keath and Merlin together, right after the Commitment Ceremony at this years Pride Celebration, on that Sunday afternoon. He wanted more then anything to marry Merlin. Seeing that look of infinite joy, bliss and happiness radiating on Keath’s face and eyes was mesmerizing.

I will hold this final memory of Keath and Merlin in my heart forever. Rosa Parks and Keath both fought for injustice throughout their lives. I see them now walking together hand in hand sharing Eternal Peace. Blessed Be Keath!!!
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Vernon died from complications of heart attack, as with a growing number of long-time survivors who seem to be having medication-related cardiac events.

Starting before the turn of the year he told his HIV doctors that something was wrong, and they missed internal cancer lesions for months. He finally went to London for some experimental treatment, yet still wasted away. Julian, who had known Fletcher for years, was concerned. In one of his small yet great acts of kindness, he went over and mowed Fletcher's yard.

Here are some pictures Fletcher's friend Alec shared:

• When putting condoms on, pinch the air from the reservoir tip and roll onto the penis or toy. (A trapped air bubble can cause the condom to break.) Uncircumcised men should pull their foreskins back to help prevent the condom from slipping. A drop of lube inside the tip of the condom can enhance sensation for the wearer.
• Add lubricant when using a condom during intercourse to reduce friction and the chance of breakage.

Joel was a very smart, gentle, sweetie who raised Basenji dogs. I knew him from volunteering at CFA, when I was able, when we lived in Houston.

Doug Harris, left, and bob harris, right

bob harris was leatherboy to Doug Harris for 6 (?) years. bob died of double PCP. Good men. I loved being around them. I look forward to seeing Doug more, but I am so saddened for his loss. Below is part of his obituary.

At 2:00PM, Friday, March 29, 2002 boy bob harris owned by Master Doug Harris of The Sanctuary of a Dark Angel in Atlanta, GA died. boy bob was Panther Prowl boy 1995, Mr. North Carolina Leather 1996, Mr. Southeast Drummer 1996 and received the Pantheon of Leather Reader's Choice Award 1999. As the first collared submissive to hold a title, boy bob championed the voice, presence and value of boys. his writing and generosity to all who knew him was apparent. he aided many boys in their journey and was always there to provide what was needed. he possessed the uncommon heart of a devoted slave. he will be greatly missed.

I always enjoyed hearing from Richard! That first Christmas he had this wonderful "Beary Christmas" picture:

As time went on, we shared many things going on in his life -- a positive job change away from The Baltimore Gay Paper, a move away from city center, and the birth of his partner, Jack's, grandson to name a few.

And Richard's correspondence asked gently probing questions that helped me to ponder what I was going through -- including major health things like that pesky neuropathy and my "slow brain" problems. The years 1998-2000 also had major relationship happenings in my life. I saw three relationships come & go & morph:

• David S.,
• Deputy Dave, and
• boy tim.

I journaled some about my fears around Richard's physical decline. One fear was that I wouldn't have another person like Richard enter my life, and would lose the insight he offered.  Another fear was that the changes I saw in his face a year ago -- the thinning -- I was beginning to see in my own. (Tom and I later realized that my LASIK eye surgery in October 2000, which removed my need for glasses, was part of the different look to my face. But we also made some nutritional and other changes to halt further thinning.)

Richard appreciated two particularly wonderful experiences during his health travails, which were many (a collapsed lung one time, CMV in his gut, failing eyesight): One was the unqualified love and support from Jack, who was his ardent advocate. The second was the love and support from his former co-workers. They threw a surprise gathering for him to tell him how much they loved him. And the company bought Richard software to magnify the computer screen and read him his mail.

Richard was an articulate, upbeat man and a wonderful friend. I appreciated our time together.

(See also my remembrance of my friend Burt Picone.)

Clifford was a best friend of one of my best friends, John Bertsch. Following are two obituaries that ran in the Austin American-Statesman. Neither mentions my favorite memory, of Clifford as one of the Rubber Fairies, a group of guys who promoted safe sex.

[February 19] The world is a little less fabulous today.

Clifford Eugene "Butch" Ueltschey passed from this life on February 18, 2000.

Clifford will be remembered for his brilliance, laughter and joie de vivre. He taught us the art of living and dying with grace and spunk. Even while HIV was ravaging his body, he was building a world class physique. Clifford captured a silver medal in bodybuilding at the 1998 International Gay Games in Amsterdam.

Clifford had an appreciation of art, music, theatre, beauty, wicked comedy and wonderful food. He steadfastly refused to allow illness or other inconveniences to interfere with these passions.

Clifford made contributions to the fight against AIDS as a volunteer and staff member of AIDS Services of Austin, then co-chair of the HIV Planning Council. His greatest contribution might have been the lives he touched by simply being himself.

Clifford was born in California on December 9,1959.

Clifford is survived by his partner and rock of Gibraltar, Dan Rawlins; mother, Barbara; father, Charlie; sister Theresa and husband, Matthew; sister, Jennifer and husband, Dennis; brother, Martin; nieces and nephew, Brandy, Sharma, Miranda and Joshua. Friends, Sue Campion, Tana Christie, Dara Gray, Michelle Martin, Mark Rawlins and Shannon Richey also survive him. He will also be missed by devoted canine companion, Poindexter.

Memorial service will be held at 100 Canyon Circle East at the 2900 block of Stratford Drive on February 20, 2000, at 3:33 p.m.

Memorial gifts can be sent to AIDS Services of Austin.

Heaven must already be more efficient since Clifford and his "to do" list arrived.

[February 21] AIDS activist lived life fully, sister says
By ERIK RODRIGUEZ American-Statesman Staff

Clifford
Eugene
Ueltschey
1959-2000

With his affection for life and indefatigable, spirit, Clifford Ueltschey made his mark in Austin by educating the public about AIDS. He also made a name for himself worldwide, earning a bodybuilding medal at the 1998 International Gay Games in Amsterdam.

Ueltschey, 40, died Friday of complications of AIDS. Services were Sunday.

"One of the amazing things about him is that people just thought he was invincible," said Ueltschey's sister, Teresa Ueltschey of Austin. "AIDS did not beat him. He lived his life the way he wanted to live it right to the very end."

Ueltschey was a longtime staff member of AIDS Services of Austin and co-chairman of the HIV Planning Council, where he worked to raise awareness of the disease.

Since being diagnosed as HIV positive 15 years ago, he used a healthy diet and exercise to combat the disease. That routine allowed him to compete at the Gay Games in 1994 and again in 1998, where he won a silver medal. At the 1998 competition, his health had deteriorated to the point where he shouldn't have been able to compete, his sister said. Instead, he placed second out of an international pool of healthier competitors.

Ueltschey was born in California in 1959, where he developed a taste for fine food at a young age. "He always loved to cook, even as a little boy," Teresa Ueltschey said.

Ueltschey's affinity for cuisine was complemented with an appreciation of art, drama and music said Tana Christie, who served on the board of AIDS Services of Austin in 1987.

Ueltschey also threw theme parties, known as "Cafe Clifford," in which he cooked to help raise money for his bodybuilding trips, Christie said.

Along with the parties, Ueltschey and his friends created a Web site to chronicle his efforts leading to his Gay Games competition two years ago.

"I want to demonstrate to others with HIV that there are many things a person can do to stay healthy beyond the realm of medicine,” a message on his Web site read.

In addition to his sister Teresa, Ueltschey is survived by his partner, Dan Rawlins; his mother, Barbara Ueltschey, of Grand Prairie; his father, Charlie, of Fort Worth; a brother, Martin, of Granbury; and a sister, Jennifer McClatchy, of Fort Worth. Memorial contributions may be made to AIDS Services of Austin.

I first met John at the gym several years ago. He was particularly handsome and caught my eye. We became acquaintances. A year or two later, his daughter, Arden, began working at The Center for AIDS, where I volunteer. Here is the beautiful obituary that ran in the paper:

JOHN HOWARD O'DONNELL M.D., 49, died on September 14, 1999 from AIDS related complications. He is survived by his daughter Arden O'Donnell, best friends Jaymes Alexander, Bill Bridges, Troy Plummer, parents John O'Donnell and Bessie Love (Jones) O'Donnell and sisters Laurie Brink and Linda Peacock. Best described as an old, gentle soul, John will be remembered as a man who truly celebrated life with an immeasurable Capacity to love. His favorite movie, Auntie Mame, was symbolic of his belief to "...live, live, live..." and he committed his entire life helping others do the same. John's greatest accomplishment is as a father to Arden - his treasure. His unconditional love, shared wisdom, ease of trust and ability to let her fly allowed her to become a woman of great integrity, compassion and love with a commitment to family and community. His legacy will live on through her presence. John was a prominent psychiatrist in Houston with a private practice for over 15 years at Memorial City Medical Center while working at Spring Shadows Glen. His specialty was alcohol and drug abuse counseling. A member of the American Psychiatric Association HIV/AIDS Commission and an executive member of Association of Gay and Lesbian Psychiatrists, John's dedication to healing others and the field of psychiatry as a profession was reflective of his personal values of giving and compassion. As a consummate leader and activist, John was dedicated to Houston's community. Pioneering the movement to address issues facing HIV/AIDS patients, he was a founding member of the Montrose Counseling Center and Body Positive. John also served on various committees and boards including the Ryan White Planning Council, Bering Community Service Foundation, Bering Support Network Human, Human Rights Campaign, AIDS Foundation Houston and many others. Diagnosed with HIV in the late eighty's, he faced a terminal disease with strength, perseverance, grit and integrity. His handsome looks and charm captured the people around him, but it was his welcoming smile and hearty hugs that expressed his kindness to others. He was teacher to all his friends, family, co-workers and peers that life was a gift. He will be greatly missed, but never forgotten. A special thanks to friends and members of the Bering Support Network who served as his family and support. A memorial service will be held Saturday September 18, 1999 at Bering Memorial United Methodist Church at 1 p.m. In lieu of flowers, please send donations to Bering Memorial United Methodist Church or Bering Support Network at 1440 Harold, Houston, TX 77006.

Reagan had spent his eight years in office -- the entire beginning of the AIDS epidemic -- without directing government resources toward the problem. 100,000 people had already died. Our goal was to keep embarrassing candidate Bush so that he would have to address the issue.

In 1992, when Tom and I were dating, we went street skating with Frank. Downtown Houston was a great place to skate -- pretty buildings, good sidewalks, and, if you scheduled things right, little traffic.

Later in '92, with the AIDS death toll now over 200,000, I was again protesting with Frank and ACT-UP when George Bush returned to Houston for the 1992-1996 Republican convention with him as its candidate. That was the horrid convention where Pat Robertson got up and made his famously rabid homophobic speech, the one credited with showcasing the Republican Party as being dominated by right-wing fundamentalist fanatics -- which spooked the vast population of middle-of-the-road folk and perhaps caused Bush to lose the election. The anti-abortion wing of the party was also out in full force, particularly in the guise of Operation Rescue, which was trying to close down our local clinics. Frank was among those who defended the clinics.

He was a good guy.

Frank, second from left, at the 1993 March on Washington for Gay / Lesbian / Transgendered rights.
Check out the great ACT-UP posters.

Doug waves to me from the NLA:Houston contingent in the 1992 Houston Gay Pride parade

Here's the official bio:

"Born August 25, 1955, in Wichita, KS. Graduated from Goddard High School, Goddard, Kansas, on May 25, 1973. Attended Wichita State University and Alvin Community College. He has been a resident of Texas since 1975. He was a member of the College Hill United Methodist Church in Wichita, Kansas, and the Metropolitan Community Church of the Resurrection in Houston. He was a past member of the Lone Star Symphonic Band; a member of the National Leather Association; and the Heart of Texas Bears. He is survived by his father, mother, and sister, all of Manvel, TX. He was employed as a courier for Idexx Veterinary Services, Inc."

I knew Mark primarily because he brought my former sponsee, Ray, to Ray's first meeting.

david was a dear person when clean -- look at him in the picture below! -- but when he relapsed his cocaine habit pushed his health over the edge and he essentially killed himself with an overdose shortly before he would have died from AIDS.

david at Rosebud 1992

Burt was one of the most wonderful people I ever had the privilege of being friends with. Burt was one of those people who chose me as a friend. He worked at Leather by Boots -- Houston (now closed) and decided he wanted to get to know me better. Burt told his co-worker Shirley. Shirley and I were pretty close, as I'd been going into the shop for years. She mentioned to me that Burt was interested in getting to know me better. So, I dropped by the Leather by Boots -- Houston store inside The Ripcord when he was working the quiet, weekday evening shift. I immediately took a liking to Burt. He had a calm, quiet demeanor.

We started hanging out together. I met his leatherboy/slave partner, joe. I had been properly introduced to leather by Dan Kalin, who gently let it be known that he wanted a leather boy. It wasn't meant to be at that time. Nonetheless, I was intrigued by Burt and joe's relationship.

Around this time I met Tom in 1991 and we had our big date. Tom and I started off as a leather Daddy/boy couple, and I looked to Burt and joe -- among others -- for guidance.

After the landlord of my duplex, Brent, died -- and after an interim renter had lived in his side -- Burt and joe moved in next door. We had an enchanted time! When Burt would get off work he'd come over and tell me about his day. Sometimes he'd play Pipedream on the computer and unwind. Many times I'd go over and join him and joe for dinner. There was a garage apartment in back and a former leather boy moved in. Ivy grew on my side of the house, and started creeping through the kitchen windows -- which I encouraged! I stapled it to the roof as it got bigger, and the kitchen became a beautiful living organism. A baby squirrel peeked in my window while I was eating breakfast. Times were great.

In 1993, Tom and I bought a house in Houston and Tom moved from Dallas to Houston. Around this same time, Paul, the partner of my friend David D., died. Burt, encouraged by joe, began a relationship with David and the two (three?) moved in together.

Burt and I did the nesting thing in our respective relationships in that last year before he died.