Last week, a man I met while volunteering at the community center died. His name was Gordon. I wasn't extremely close to Gordon, but we had mutual friends so I saw him periodically on social occasions and a few holidays.

To be honest, I usually kept a certain amount of distance from him. From the first time I met Gordon, it was apparent he was a button pusher so I kept him at arm's length to prevent him from pushing mine. I think there may have been a certain amount of amusement for him because of this. While in New York for Cheryl and Micheale's wedding, we out-of-towners spent a day together exploring the city. During that day I constantly deflected his attempts to goat me. One after another. At one point I had to laugh to myself because man! he was certainly persistent.

Gordon's death was an accident and very unexpected. For the last week, I've watched myself and my friends walk around in a sort of fog. "I can't believe this happened. It just doesn't seem real," has been said more than once. Over the years, as a group, we've all dealt with death. Kooka's father. Cheryl's mother. For those times we did what friends do. We comforted and supported the best we could but there were limits. Those deaths were within their families. Cheryl lives in New York. Kooka's father was buried in Israel. There was only so much we could do.

But this death was within our family. I remember that being said a lot during Cheryl and Micheale's wedding...that it was important that not only their birth families were there to witness the ceremony, but however very important it was to have the family we chose and built to be there as well.

People flew in for the service and we were all there to show support for Gordon's partner. Flanked by Gordon's family and his own, I think he was genuinely touched to see us all there.

I'm not sure if Gordon had made arrangements for what he wanted in case of his death. His service seemed to be very much who he was, very spiritual, sort of new agey and filled with moments of laughter. It was called a "Celebration of Life" service and it was truly that. I think we all learned things about Gordon we didn't know that night. Isn't it said that that's usually how it is? We learn more about someone when they die that when they were living.

During the service, the minister officiating asked us to close our eyes and envision one quality about Gordon that stood out to us. One quality that made him Gordon to us. I knew right away what it was for me.

His passion.

When Gordon believe in something, an idea, a cause, whatever...he went for it with both barrels loaded. He never did anything half-assed. When Micheale was moving to New York to be with Cheryl, Gordon called me about her going-away party. He wanted to know what I had in mind. Anyone who knows me knows I am not a party planner. A few years ago, I had a potluck for my birthday. A friend of mine was concerned that I wasn't assigning dishes to be brought. "What if you end up with twenty bags of chips?" she said. "Then we will have twenty bags of chips."

I had a similar attitude about this event as well. Gordon, of course, had other ideas. After many questions about the food (what where we having, who was bringing what, should we order a cake) I finally said, "Gordon? Would you like to plan the food for the party?" He replied, "well...only if you want me to."

Oy.

A couple weeks later, after receiving many instructions from the master planner, we had a lovely Mexican feast for Micheale's last Saturday in Arizona. It was a very nice evening and a wonderful send off for our dear friend.

Gordon's passion lead him to the community center where I met him. He fiercely believed in community service. He was one of the chairs for the library committee while I ran one of the phone teams. Gordon felt very strongly about the preservation and care for the Center's library, an archive of gay and lesbian literature and history. Eventually the Center closed its doors, however Gordon's commitment didn't end. He worked very hard to ensure the collection was sustained eventually working with the Phoenix Library and a research library at ASU where the archive exists and is kept together today.

A couple years ago, I participated in a community protest against an organization that endorses reparative therapy for homosexuals. Even after all the volunteering I did for the GLBT community center here, that day was the first time I ever felt like there was a community here in Phoenix. It was amazing the number of people that turned out for it, all working together for one common goal, the greater good.

At his memorial I remembered, it all started because of Gordon. One man made a huge impact simply by the force of his passion. I'd say that's pretty incredible.