Member-only story
Even in Death, My Friend Was Full of Surprises
Remembering Rex
The first time I saw him he was buck naked. His pale skin and bleach-blonde hair nicely complemented the cracked, yellow-brown ground of the Nevada desert.
It was my second year at Burning Man, and his camp was right next to mine. I caught a couple more glimpses of him throughout the event, in various stages of undress, but we never actually spoke.
One night there was a dust storm. You had to cover your face to avoid getting it in your mouth and eyes. You were basically helpless. All you could do was protect yourself the best you could and wait it out.
A week later I was back in New York. Just in time for September 11th.
It was the dust storm all over again. Only instead of sand it was ash.
I don’t remember exactly when I saw him again. It could have been months, maybe a year.
Time moved differently during this period. Everything was just swirling chaos. It was difficult to keep track of where you were going, let alone how long it took to get there.
But eventually things returned to some semblance of normalcy. Eventually we all came out the other side, and we were better off for it.
