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Goodbye Jeff.
Mar. 15th, 2011 11:04 pmI'm not handling this well at all. Dear universe: please stop fucking with people I love.
Our dear, sweet Jeff Corich passed away at home last night. Morris called to let me know before I saw it on the internets, which was very kind.
Jeff was the very first person I met in the city (though I'd spent a few days in Napa with the boys). He showed Boof and I around the city in his white Mustang- down Lombard st, up to the good Golden Gate lookout point, and all around the Castro. He arranged dinner for us all and made sure we met all the right gays.
3 months later I returned to SF and Jeff was in a wheelchair- hard to understand, harder to move, and eating through a feeding tube. We caused mayhem. I made him laugh while eating, and the food shot out of the tube and onto the ceiling, as well as all over us. I got the wheelchair wheels stuck in trolley tracks. We went to Starbucks and he had his first coffee in a while- which made him ornery. I dragged (wheeled?) him to Moviebears, where he was treated like the beloved star he was.
In the following years I always enjoyed time with Jeff. We had long (short, but slow) walks in Dolores park. Jeff showed me how to use public transit. We bought dildos that looked much smaller in the shop. We were bitches to Greg at Starbears. Good times.
Every time I've been to San Francisco, I've visited Jeff. And every time I've remembered why I liked him so much. He was genuinely caring and sweet and it shone through, even in his darkest days, when he was most frustrated with himself.
Wonderful people like Jeff don't come along every day, and we've just lost one of the best.
Rest well, Jeff. Oh and keep Beast company, ok?
Our dear, sweet Jeff Corich passed away at home last night. Morris called to let me know before I saw it on the internets, which was very kind.
Jeff was the very first person I met in the city (though I'd spent a few days in Napa with the boys). He showed Boof and I around the city in his white Mustang- down Lombard st, up to the good Golden Gate lookout point, and all around the Castro. He arranged dinner for us all and made sure we met all the right gays.
3 months later I returned to SF and Jeff was in a wheelchair- hard to understand, harder to move, and eating through a feeding tube. We caused mayhem. I made him laugh while eating, and the food shot out of the tube and onto the ceiling, as well as all over us. I got the wheelchair wheels stuck in trolley tracks. We went to Starbucks and he had his first coffee in a while- which made him ornery. I dragged (wheeled?) him to Moviebears, where he was treated like the beloved star he was.
In the following years I always enjoyed time with Jeff. We had long (short, but slow) walks in Dolores park. Jeff showed me how to use public transit. We bought dildos that looked much smaller in the shop. We were bitches to Greg at Starbears. Good times.
Every time I've been to San Francisco, I've visited Jeff. And every time I've remembered why I liked him so much. He was genuinely caring and sweet and it shone through, even in his darkest days, when he was most frustrated with himself.
Wonderful people like Jeff don't come along every day, and we've just lost one of the best.
Rest well, Jeff. Oh and keep Beast company, ok?
