Remembering my gay friend who dared to live honestly in a dangerous time

Last year I went to Winnipeg's Pride Parade with my wife and my five-year-old daughter. We stopped in front of the Leg', watching the parade go by, and my wife said, "I'm so happy I could cry. Look at all of these people."

"I could cry thinking about what it was like 30, 40 years ago," I replied. "Homosexuality was a crime and people were jailed for being gay; lives were ruined."

Paul Panton was an openly gay man when that was dangerous. He was an artist. He was rude, opinionated, pedantic, stubborn and irritating. He was kind, thoughtful, afraid and shy. He was my friend. I'm thinking about Paul and all his contradictions as we celebrate Pride this weekend.

I met Paul over 30 years ago. We both lived in West Broadway, and he was friendly and said "Hi'"to me whenever he saw me walking down the street. I found out later that he made a point of saying "Hi"to everyone he saw on the street as a defence mechanism. Being an effeminate gay man, he thought it would be safer to greet everyone he saw.

Paul was born in Melita, Man., and grew up in Thunder Bay, Ont., and New Westminster, B.C. His mother died of cancer when he was 17. His father almost immediately married again (he married five times) and kicked Paul out of the house and moved to California. His father disapproved of Paul's "life choices" being an artist and being gay.

Kind advice

Paul ended up back in Melita, his mother's hometown. He finished high school and moved to Brandon to go to college. In Melita and Brandon, he tried to ignore being gay and started seeing a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist "kindly" told him he was not gay and just needed to date women. "Kindly" because he knew the struggles gay men faced. You could go to jail just for being gay.

I don't think Paul ever had a boyfriend. He was too afraid. He often fell in love with men who were unattainable. Most of these men remained friends with Paul for decades. This included his former art teacher, Joe Plasket. Joe moved to Paris and Paul kept in touch with him for the next 60-plus years.

Paul moved to Winnipeg in 1972. He thought a larger city would be more conducive to his lifestyleas an artist. He felt Winnipeg would give him more opportunity to be a successful artist. He decided in 1974 to make his living as an artist and to live as an openly gay man. Paul was poor, very poor at times, but he lived off the earnings from his art until the day he died. If you met him and did not figure out immediately that he was gay, he told you.

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Paul talked a lot about his family and especially his father's rejection of him. Paul was always trying to come to terms with this rejection. In 1996, Paul read a book in which the author discussed his own relationship with his absent father. Paul wrote to the author to tell him how very much he liked the book. The author wrote back, telling Paul how he enjoyed his letter. The author was Barack Obama.

Paul saved all his correspondence and after Obama became president, Paul found the letter to share with all his friends. Paul, with all his insecurities, strove to be be seen and heard in the world. Paul always expressed his opinion.

At one point, I realized Paul was as much a surrogate father to me as Joe was to Paul. He helped me come to terms with some of the issues and insecurities I had, and also the troubled relationship I had with my own father. Seventeen years ago I met the women who would become my wife and the mother of my child. I thought Paul would freak out and dislike her as not good enough for me. He did not. Paul and Louise eventually became good friends and after our daughter was born, Paul took on the role of her surrogate grandfather.

Lived life honestly

Through Paul, I met Joe and others; through him, I was exposed to a different world. It wasn't just a gay world but much more: a world more sophisticated than what I grew up with. Paul's friends were painters, potters, writers, musicians; they were men and women; they were gay and straight. They were generous.

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As we stood together at last year's pride celebration as a family, I thought how different Paul's life would have been if he'd been born in a different time. He always tried to live his life as honestly as he could, as an artist and as a gay man.

And so while I was happy as I stood there with my family last year, and as I will be again this weekend, I'm also missing my friend Paul, and feeling very keenly how much has changed in the past 40 years.

Happy pride everyone, and especially to you, Paul. You are missed.