My Friend Ken covid-19: day 313 | US: GA | info | act
I received the news today (thanks, Kelly) that my good friend from high school, Ken Turner, has died unexpectedly. I don’t have any more details, but he was my age—much too young. Much too young. He was a kind and generous soul—liked by everyone. I know his life had difficulties, being the gay son of a minister, but when I think of Ken, I see the impish jokster smiling devilishly about something. And I never heard him complain. He even maintained his faith, something that must have been challenging for him. He and I used to laugh and laugh. We were tight, both trumpet players—wannabe alphas in a band geek world. He was the better musician; I was only first-chair because Ken was the drum major. We shared that duty in concert and jazz band. He loved eighties music, especially Yes. I was supposed to go see Duran Duran with him and Kelly back in 2017, but I was unable to make it as we were vacationing in Florida. I deeply regret that now. I wish we had kept in-touch outside of the random Facebook post. I never met his partner. Man, these times are tough.
Rest in peace, my friend. I will always remember you fondly, even if you put mayo on your bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits.
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Me and Ken as old folks, 1986. -
Ken and me looking 80’s suave, 1987. -
Band officers: Me, Marcy, Kelly, Ken, and ..., 1986.
