Thanks for the Memories

It is inevitable . . . I am a gay man after all.

I mean that I would be writing about Elizabeth Taylor.

I remember watching National Velvet–no, I was not born when it first appeared (1944)–and being enchanted with this lovely young woman. But I also loved her in Lassie, Come Home (1943), but when I saw that, I was more smitten with Roddy McDowall.

Actually, as much as I loved Taylor, I really loved her most for her devotion to her friends, and especially for her many gay male friends, and most of all for her selfless work to combat HIV/AIDS and her courage in combating AIDS-phobia.

I did not live in Virginia when she helped our former Senator, John Warner, win his first term. But I have seen pictures of her “tour.” Had I been here, I imagine I would have been at events, too, with my mouth hanging open. She had that effect on many.

Maybe most of all, her passing marks the end of an era for me. There really aren’t many left who rose to fame before World War II.

Thanks, Liz, for the memories.

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