January 30, 2021
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.
When together, we were usually messing around; laughing a some inside joke or making our band director’s day a bit more difficult. We were tight, both trumpet players—what’s the band-geek equivalent of alphas—that’s what we were: I was band president and he was drum major. 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 bands like Yes, Asia, and GTR (remember them?). 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; he lived 100 miles away in Marietta, for goodness’ sake. I never met his partner Jason, but my heart goes out to him. 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.
Me and Ken as old folks, 1986.
Ken and me looking 80’s suave, 1987.
Band officers: Me, Marcy, Kelly, Ken, and ..., 1986.
