Tragic News

[bjarvis]

My ex, John, just telephoned from Toronto a little while ago with some terrible news: a mutual friend of hours, Harley Walker, died approximately two weeks ago. That would be bad enough except...

Harley was murdered. Brutally. At least, his house was ransacked, his bank account was drained and large quantities of blood were found in his house in the Cabbagetown area of Toronto (downtown eastside). His body hasn't been found yet. His house is still under police cordon.

Former investment banker David K Reid of Mississauga, ON, was arrested on first degree murder charges in Owen Sound, ON.

Click here for the update from the Toronto Star.

Harley was one of the first gay men I met shortly after coming out in 1990. He was a wonderful guy, a sound engineer for CBC Television. If you've ever watched "Fraggle Rock" or "Kids in the Hall," you were indirectly observing Harley at work. He frequently got me guest tickets to see recordings of KitH at the CBC studio on Jarvis Street (ironically) and he frequently looked me up in the audience before & after tapings to show me around the sets and the control booths.

We had a few dates. I was still a fumbling newbie and he was a knowledgeable & worldly mentor (born in England but where precisely I can't say), as well as a gentle teacher & lover. Neither of us had serious longterm romantic intent but we enjoyed each other's company tremendously and his house --especially his flower garden-- was a wonderful second home when I needed to run away from the world to collect my thoughts.

The garden in the backyard was a wonder. The first time I saw it was in late December, 1990. Everything was covered in snow but I could make out walking paths and a small foot bridge. I could see mist rising towards the back of the yard. "What's the steam back there?" I asked. "Oh, that's the goldfish pond. I have a heater keeping the water warm all winter." The steam would refreeze a few feet above the pond, creating tiny delicate icicles in the otherwise bare tree beside. The tree had a sparkly frosted look while all else was covered in snow cotton.

"Not much to look at in winter I'm afraid but it's beautiful in the summer. I have a picture here somewhere..." He shuffled through a stack of books and papers on his desk off the kitchen. "Ah, here it is!" And there was a wonderful photo of the yard in full bloom. From the angle of the paths, the location of the bridge and the shape of the trees, it was taken from almost precisely where I was standing.

Harley was showing me the cover of "Better Homes and Gardens" from earlier that year.

Harley loved his garden.

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I long since gave up counting the number of friends both close and casual I've outlived. I'm inclined to stop counting the lovers now: I'm caught momentarily between the pain of loss and the guilt of letting go. I'm confident the right path will be clear to me once this initial shock has worn off, but I can't say where it will lead just now.

Comments

You Loss

[cuyahogarvr.livejournal.com]

Brian, I am so sorry to hear of this loss of yours. Know that I'm thinking of you and yours during this troubling time. Unfortunately, we may never know where something as senseless as this will ever lead us.