Subject: Connie Norman obit.
From: [email-masked]
Date: Mon, 12 Aug 1996 01:13:25 -0400

Well, we finally put Connie Norman to rest. August 11, 1996, two in the
afternoon, a hundred or so people came once more to Plumber park to attend
Connie Norman’s last ACT-UP meeting. Connie tested positive in 1986 and
quickly decided that she wasn’t going down without a fight. That was the
birth of “Connie - AIDS Diva”, activist, lobbyist, protester, organizer,
politician, mother and nurse.
It was about 1990, I think, when my good friend Wally and I decided to attend
an ACT-UP meeting here in Plumber Park. I had been very active in queer
activism as a founding board member of GLAAD/LA, but I was looking for an
even more hands on adventure. ACT-UP sounded like just the right thing.
We got to the park early to get a good seat. The meeting was originally
scheduled in the big meeting room but the girl scouts or some other hetero
event bumped us into a long narrow room, not very conducive to a round table
discussion, but the meeting finally began. Everyone was upset, confused and
irritable.
After about fifteen minutes of what can only be called chaos, I nudged Wally
and gestured that maybe we should leave. We were all the way in front of this
long, narrow room and leaving would be more than obvious.  Between the
lesbians demanding that no one should be incharge of running the meeting,
especially a man, and a growing lack of consensus of what the pending
demonstration was even about, I felt that my time could be better spent
elsewhere.
At about that same moment someone else was thinking the same thing, except
she stood up and did something about it. At least I think it was a she.  Way
back, near the entrance, a person stood up and in a full, loud, clear voice
said “OK, I’ve had enough! This is what we are going to!” She then split the
group into working modules and gave each a task to complete before we came
back together as a single group.
After the meeting I walked up to this person and commented on how effectively
she had organized the mob and thanked her. “Someone had to do it honey!
What’s your name?” she replied. And that’s how I met Connie. I still wasn’t
sure if he had been a she or she a he or a fem boy or butch girl but it
really didn’t matter.
We soon became buddies and had many wonderful moments in the battle to stop
the discrimination of queers and people with HIV.  Last year Connie asked me
to join Bruce and her to vacation in Hawaii. Connie loved the islands and
literally became a different person while there. For two weeks the problems
of the world were put away and out came the moo moos and mai tais. 
One afternoon after snorkeling we sat in the shade marveling at the beauty
all around us and we shared our life stories with each other. When she had
finished telling me all about her tumultuous youth, falling in love with
Bruce, the surgery and just about every other thing of significance in her
life she asked if I had any questions. I had just one and asked what her name
was before Connie. “I am a very candid person about every aspect of my life,
but I never tell anyone that. It’s a part of me that is past and I just don’t
share it.” She said. 
I understood and proceeded to tell all about myself. We talked for several
hours, several of the other vacationers were coming in from the beach and it
was clear that our moment of private conversation was coming to a close. We
stood to join the others in the kitchen but first we held each other in a
long, warm hug. We both knew that there weren’t going to be many more moments
to be so close. She then looked me in the eyes and whispered a name. “What do
you mean? Who is that?” I queried. “It was me, before the operation. It’s my
first name. It’s just for you Bobbert.”
That’s how I will always remember Connie. No one who ever met Connie forgot
how they met. Many people took the stage today and recalled special moments
with our AIDS diva. One common thread of all the speakers was how important
grass roots action has been in fighting this plague and that Connie wrote the
book on how to do it.

I’ll always love you and as long as we remember, you will live on.
Bob LaFont

******************************************************************************
* To subscribe to DQ-LA, send mail to:      [email-masked]         *
* In the mail message, enter ONLY the words:         subscribe dq-la         *
* To unsubscribe to DQ-LA, send mail to:   [email-masked]          *
* In the mail message, enter ONLY the words:       unsubscribe dq-la         *
* Words in the Subject: line are NOT processed!                              *
******************************************************************************