JIM GERIG

Michael Easterling

7/2/1918

When I was rummaging around behind the Sanctuary I overheard The Rev.Wilma Torres berating her congregation for not visiting Jim Gerig when he was in the hospital.  In essence she was saying that the time to celebrate some one’s life is when they are alive not after they are dead. I had never heard a preacher get so angry in a pulpit before. I know that Jim would have visited them if the tables were turned. He was that kind of sweet and caring guy.

Jeri and I got to know him as one of most active volunteers for the Shelter for the Homeless. He was a regular and always showed up. In our conversations it came up that his Dad was a New York cop who never accepted that Jim was homosexual, nor could other members of Jim’s family.

When Jim contacted the AIDS virus he sometimes would be taken the St.Clare’s Hospital. It was a time when AIDS was such a mystery. Jim’s nurses in the hospital were afraid to treat him and hospital help wouldn’t enter his room or take his food to him…they would leave his trays outside on the floor. Jim deteriorated and died a very hard death with his faithful partner Bruce by his side.

He was a poet, loved to read it and write it. The following is one of his good, funny poems.

“Finally, Paul Brody, the quarterback, walked in

to give his speech.

When he opened his mouth,

a bird flew out, a live bird!

He had had it in his mouth all that time

and he couldn’t stop laughing.

He didn’t give the speech at all.”

Dad didn’t think it was funny: he had promised to pay him fifty bucks

and give him a free dinner.

Later, I would stare into the bathroom mirror

and touch my lips,

pretending there was a bird in my mouth.

I’d flap my mouth open all of the sudden

And out would fly nothing.

After that, I would laugh and laugh

and I couldn’t be serious about my crooked teeth.