FAITH WALKER: So just for the sake of the recording I’m going to introduce myself, Faith Walker, and you, Pat Richeson, and this is for Dr. Giggie’s 430 in association with the Invisible Histories Project, and I’d like to thank you for your time in agreeing to talk to me about your brother in this interview some. Do you mind just telling me a little bit about, kind of, you and Elliott as children, and like, the background you kind of had?

PAT RICHESON: Well, we grew up in a political family, my dad was in politics. So we had an abnormal life, I would say, but our parents taught us to be fearless, and told us, instilled upon all of us, that we could do whatever we wanted, if we put our mind to it. So that was kind of the culture in which we grew up. I kind of knew Elliott was gay before I knew what gay was, and he was about, probably six or seven, he got real sick, and after he came out of whatever it was, he had changed and became very effeminate. Don’t know if that had anything to do with it, or if it was just what, you know, we noticed at the time. He liked to play with the Barbie dolls more than I did. And that was kinda my first clue.

FW: So, was he, then, always very involved in like, queer politics or was that something that developed later in his life?

PR: I’m not really sure back then. You know, I, um — he dated in high school, and I remember thinking that was a little bit odd, but happy that he was, and, um — so I really, you know, I kind of lived in my own little world there, and we had similar friends growing up in the neighborhood, but since he was three and half years younger than I was, we didn’t go to the same school, because he was in junior high, and didn’t go to high school ‘til I graduated from high school, and he was in elementary when I was in junior high, so we were never in the same school together, except for like, three years in elementary school — first, second, and third grade. He was in the first, second, and third grade. So, in terms of who he hung out with, other than who he brought to the house, I didn’t know. After he went off to college, I kinda had an idea, because I knew who he was running around with at that point in time. But, again, it didn’t matter, ‘cause we loved everybody that he brought to the house.

FW: So you talk about how it didn’t really matter to you, and, to some extent, to your family, who he was bringing home. Did he ever express any kind of, like, fear in association with the campus, and like, the idea he wasn’t safe there in any way, or?

PR: Not to our knowledge. Not to our knowledge, but again, he had this wonderful, one-of-a-kind sense of humor, and again, repeating what I said at the beginning, it was very important that our parents instilled in us that we could do whatever we wanted to if we set our minds to it. I did find out later that when he was in college, and a bunch of his friends would go out, and “rednecks” — his term — would pick on them. You know, they would be the ones asked to leave, and that would make him mad, because they were usually there first, and tipping better, in Elliott’s words. Ha ha! And that was what sparked their movement, so to speak, to get the Gay and Lesbian Alliance, I think it’s called the Crimson Alliance now, or the Capstone Alliance, recognized as an offical student group of the University and they were told no, it wasn’t gonna happen, and that frustrated ’em. So Elliott took his middle name, which was Jackson, and under the name Jack Jones sued the University of Alabama for the group to be recognized as a student group. It was pretty funny how our parents found out about it, because my brother said that he was drinking his coffee, opened up the paper and said that Jack Jones from Montgomery has sued the University and he said he spilled his coffee and called my dad and said, “Dad, I think Elliott’s suing the University!” And sure enough, it was Elliott. But the attorneys with the University said it was an unwinnable case, so they let the alliance be formed as a student group. So Elliott, in my words, kinda became a folk hero for the university for doing that, having the guts to stand up to the University and say “No, this isn’t right.”

FW: How aware were y’all at the time that this was going on? How much of this is stuff he told you about later?

PR: I don’t recall the actual dates of everything. When — do you know when the alliance was formed?

FW: 1983.

PR: Okay, ’83, okay. Then I did know he was gay then, by then. He was in a really bad mood one day, and I asked him what was going on, I said “What is wrong with you?” You know, ’cause he was just being hostile, and he said “come in, shut the door,” and I knew then what he was gonna tell me, and he did. He said, “Pat, I’m gay.” He goes, “I have been praying about this for years. Why would God make me this way if the Bible says it’s wrong?” We were raised Southern Baptist, and he had a hard time coming to terms with that. And we assured him — or I assured him — that I loved him. He goes, “Well how am I gonna tell Mom and Dad? What are they gonna do?” because a lot of his friends who did come out were disowned by their families, and he did not want that — we were a very close family growing up. And I said, “I’ll help you.” And so I started, like, dropping hints to my mother that Elliott might be gay. And he did have apparently some gay men magazine in the trunk of his car, which my dad found but did not even mention he saw. So, we don’t know if he really saw them or not, but, you know, Elliott was worried about that, he was kinda high-strung. So, after about six weeks or so, I told Mother, I said, “I think he’s ready, you can tell him you know, or whatever you would like, you know? He just needs to know that you’re gonna love him no matter what.” And he was in the den and my mom went down — I think she got out of bed to talk to him — and she said, “Elliott, I’m real worried about you,” he says, “Well, I’m kinda worried about myself, too.” She goes, “And you know we’d love you no matter what?” “Yes, I know.” “That includes you being gay.” And at that point Elliott started crying. So that’s kinda how he came out to Mom and Dad. And then we — that didn’t change who he was, to me. Or to my parents, or to my brother. My older brother was kind of anti gay in his speech sometimes, and when he came out, to him, my older brother hugged Elliott and said “I love you.” And so that kinda stopped the bad talk there.

FW: You mentioned that when Elliott came out to you, he talked about him praying, like, how God could have allowed this — did he have a lot of religious tendencies, either at that point or later in his life? Or was he just kind of in that culture?

PR: Well, it was our background. Our background was Southern Baptist. We had a devotional and Bible study every night growing up when we were little; went to church Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday nights. So, it was, you know, just who we are. I mean, that’s one thing I’ll say, that the three of us kids knew the Bible backwards and forwards, from that education our parents gave us.

FW: Yeah, my grandfather is a Southern Baptist bookstore owner, so it is —

PR: I understand, I understand.

FW: Yes.

PR: My dad’s mother was a missionary Baptist. We have a friend — he was in radio — he used to call it the missionary Baptist church, hallelujah and amen.

FW: Yes. If I can kinda pivot back for a second then, I know we’ve kinda touched on Elliott suing the school in order to form the GSU. After he graduated, did he continue to do gay advocacy work, —

PR: Oh, yes!

FW: — and what did that look like for him?

PR: Yes. He did — he was diagnosed in ’88 with HIV and was told it was AIDS at the time. And he became a HIV/AIDS advocate for people. Like when someone would get diagnosed, he would go to the hospital with them, and he said it would be so tragic sometimes ’cause families would come in — been called in because their child was dying — and it was the first time they knew that he had HIV or was gay. And a lot of them walked out and just left their kid alone. There was another friend of his who passed and they wouldn’t let his significant other come in. He had a lot of really sad stories about that, but he kept on. And he — the minister, just coincidence, at the church where my husband and I were members at the time, which was Vestavia United Methodist, the minister, Joe Elmore, took that AIDS education to heart as part of his ministry and he and Elliott befriended each other. And Elliott traveled around the state with Joe Elmore, to give a face of AIDS to different Methodist congregations. And they were going to Scottsboro, where my parents were members of church at point in time — they had moved from Montgomery — and my mother was real nervous about him coming up there, you know, “well none of our friends know, none of our friends know,” and I said, “Well, it’ll work out,” and so they went up there and the outpouring of love was nothing but a god-send for my mother, because it made her realize it didn’t matter and she was always, you know, “what will the neighbors think?” growing up. She still is, to some extent, at 92. I think it made her realize — and I told her before and she knew it deep down — was that if somebody’s not gonna like you or be your friend because Elliott is gay then do they really deserve to be your friend? And she said, “Well, I never thought about it that way.” And I said, “Well, you need to,” and I think that kinda was tangible for her, to see that it was, in fact, true, that her true friends not only gave her this outpouring of love, they raised money and sent it to Elliott to help him live, when he was no longer able to work. And that’s love in action.

FW: Yeah, you — that’s incredible. All of that.

PR: Well, you know, of course I can sit here and say it now, but Elliott was pretty lucky. You know, ringing back and looking back and hearing other people who had no family to speak of because of a way that, you know, in Elliott’s words, “God made them.”

FW: You mention that he had a lot of, kind of, sad stories about this time in his life, with the work he was doing. Do you happen to know of any story or event that was particularly meaningful to him at that time, or…?

PR: No, I don’t. Not any one stands out.

FW: Did he, after graduating UA, ever do any kind of gay organizing for college students, like, was that a group he kept his focus on?

PR: I don’t — not that I know of. Not that I know of.

FW: I know that today, there’s a scholarship set up in his memory, the website says it was set up by you and your mother, the Elliott Jackson Jones Scholarship —

PR: No, it was not.

FW: It was not?

PR: It was not. I think it was set up by the GSU.

FW: That’s really interesting.

PR: We’ve been involved with it, but we did not start the scholarship.

FW: What do you know about the scholarship, then? Were you at all involved in this at any point, or this was just something they just came to you and said “We’d like to do?”

PR: I was not involved at all. Now, my parents went when they first started it and they awarded the very first one. And J.R. Finney, who is a minister here in Birmingham was actually the emcee of that event, or did the invocation or something. But he was involved, he might remember more than I would. I don’t remember anything about that. But to my knowledge, it was set up by the university, or someone involved at the university. I’ve met several of the recipients.

FW: Is anyone in your family in any way involved in choosing who those recipients get to be, or is that — ?

PR: No. Not at all.

FW: Okay. Jumping back, then, when Elliott was staring this kind of work that he did on the UA campus, in terms of the GSU, where were you at that point? This would have been 1983.

PR: I was married. We were living in Birmingham.

FW: So not too far, but not in Tuscaloosa, either?

PR: Right, right.

FW: Did he at all ever express to you what was going on with that or like any of the triumphs or struggles with that in any way, or?

PR: No. He did not. He was compartmentalized. Even though we knew he gay at this point, he still, you know, he — I think he wanted us to believe that he was kind of asexual instead of homosexual. I mean, like, this is terrible, I probably shouldn’t say this on camera, but he was at a gay bar, picked up a guy, guy came home, tied him up with a phone cord, stole his car and his money, robbed him, stole the car. You know, he had to tell my parents, he lost his car ’cause it got stolen. He didn’t get beat up though, really, just you know, and he told them it was Jehovah’s Witnesses. And my mother believed it! I was like, “Mother, Jehovah’s Witnesses don’t come at two in the mornin’.” (laughter) But she was more than willing to believe it, so we kinda gave him a hard time about that, you know just, we go, “Okay, that’s what you want us to think, that’s what we’ll think.”

FW: Did he ever get the car back, or?

PR: He got the car back. The guy had to pay him restitution, something like $15 a month, he goes “I’ll gladly cash that check!” Like I said, he had a humor, like, when he was walking his dog — you know, he was always real skinny, but as the HIV — well, he also got rectal cancer (and the) radiation burned his bowels, he was really, really skinny — and he was out walkin’ his dog and there were some protestors around the Planned Parenthood site and he went up speaking to a lady and she apparently called him gay or homo or something — “oh, you’re one of those, you need to read your Bible” — and he goes “I did” and he quoted Leviticus to her, like, “Have you been cleansed by your priest since your last cycle” and that made her mad. (She said,) “And what do you think, coming off, acting like Jesus?” And he says, “Well, that’s easy,” and he pulled off his baseball cap and — he had really long hair and he shook out his hair (and he said,) “Because I am Jesus!” And he said, “And I turned around and I pranced my happy butt off.” So he was just — I mean, that was the way he was, so. And again, that goes back to our Bible reading, he — like I said, he knew his scriptures, backwards and forwards and knew how to use them. But he had a wonderful, wonderful community here in Birmingham. We did not realize (to) what extent until after he died. But when — the day that he died, we had a — we knew some of his friends, we called them and said “get the word out.” And the outpouring of love of the people coming out of the woodworks to see what they could do for us, you know, coming to his funeral, and I kept asking one of his best friends — who I’d met a few times, but now we’re the best of friends — I kept saying, “Does he have a significant other?” “No, not that I know of.” And so I said, “Please try to find out.” He says, “Well, why do you care?” And I said, “Because I’d like for him to sit with the family.” “Oh.” That was just kind of beyond their kind of realm of reality, in a way, because that was not really heard of.

FW: Did you —

PR: Oh.

FW: Oh no, I’m sorry, you if weren’t finished, then please —

PR: And I was just gonna say at the funeral, Mike Saag, who is kinda known as the Jesus of AIDS, and he’s the renowned — world-renowned doctor — doing HIV and AIDS research spoke, at Elliott’s funeral, and he doesn’t normally attend funerals.

FW: He knew Elliott, then?

PR: He knew Elliott very well. He wrote about Elliott in his book.

FW: Was he based in Birmingham at the time?

PR: He is. He’s still based in Birmingham. I can give you his contact information if you’d like.

FW: That would be wonderful. So, Elliott was also in Birmingham at the time?

PR: Yes, he was.

FW: Okay. Do you know where in Birmingham this community was kind of based around, like the spots they went to, or in Tuscaloosa, either?

PR: I’m not sure where they went in Tuscaloosa ‘cause I wasn’t in school at the time. In Birmingham, the Quest was Elliott’s favorite. And most of the guys lived on South side, a lot now live in Crestwood as well.

FW: So, have a lot of these people stayed in the Birmingham area?

PR: Yes.

FW: When Elliott died, was there any kind of — or even I guess, prior to his death, during his life — was there ever any kind of push-back that affected your entire family, based on the work he was doing?

PR: No, not that I’m aware of.

FW: Did he ever express any kind of issues that he was facing individually because of being gay, or doing AIDS advocacy, or?

PR: Well, now he was picked on a little bit at school, but this was, of course, when he was still in the closet, you know? But again, that humor came into play. There was a big football guy, you know, they were bullying him a little bit, and he like took his arm and it was so skinny he put his hand around it and he goes still, you know, Elliott’s arm was kinda like that, and he’s like “Look at this skinny boy!” You know, “skinny bones Jones!” And Elliott just looks at him and goes, “I think I’m doing pretty good for a kid with leukemia.” Deadpanned it. And the guy (gasps). Well, they took him as their mascot. And so finally, when they graduated high school, he went, “You’ve had us this whole time,” and Elliott went “Yep.” (laughter) So he handled — he defused a lot with his humor, from what I can tell. I mean, he never came home beat up that I recall, everybody loved him because he was so funny.

FW: If you’re still in touch with any of Elliott’s friends, is that something that they talk about as well, his sense of humor?

PR: Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes. The friend that I told you that I was still real good friends with? Dennis? He said that, you know, he was gonna break up with his boyfriend, and he didn’t wanna do it — he wasn’t sure, and he’d been, like, talking to Elliott, “Oh my gosh, what am I gonna do, how am I gonna handle this?” Well, the guy came in and sat on Elliott’s side, because there was Dennis, Elliott, and let’s see, and Elliott looked over and said, “Dennis doesn’t wanna date you anymore so y’all are broken up, okay?” And the guy said, “Okay.” And he looked over at Dennis and said “Did that work?” (laughter) So, you know, that’s — they do remember some of that humor. He still talks about that one.

FW: Are there any other characteristics of Elliott’s that you’ve noticed a whole lot of people — either his friends or other members of y’all’s family — mention about him?

PR: The funniness is probably the biggest. And the fact that he was so passionate and politically astute.

FW: Did he do any other kind of political work besides gay and AIDS advocacy, or?

PR: Not really. I mean, he ran for student office, I think.

FW: Do you happen to know what position that was?

PR: I don’t. And I’m not even sure he ran or if he ran other people’s candidates.

FW: Right.

PR: Again, you know, we were never in the same school together, by the time that all started. And I was definitely in my own little world and he was in his.

FW: Like I mentioned earlier, I’ve got one brother, he’s four-and-a-half years younger so yeah, we never — it’s been the exact same way to some extent.

PR: Yeah. I mean, you’re still probably close, but it — I mean, you know, you just don’t run in the same circles. It’s just — as Elliott told my older brother one time, “You’re in an entirely different generation than I’m in!” So.

FW: See, I was born in the last millennium and my brother wasn’t, so.

PR: Yeah. Yeah. Exactly. Exactly.

FW: Do you know at what point, like, Elliott started considering himself a part of the queer movement?

PR: I would say in high school. Definitely in high school.

FW: Was he ever out in general when he was in high school?

PR: Not that I am aware of.

FW: Do you remember about how old he was when he came out to your family?

PR: It was probably ‘81 or ‘82.

FW: Okay. And he was born in ‘61?

PR: Yes, I believe so.

FW: Okay.

PR: I know, one thing that he did say to me, was that, and he regretted it sincerely, and this was high school graduation I believe, but he was hanging out with a kid that actually is the younger brother of a girlfriend of mine, but we weren’t real close back then, and he said that the night of high school graduation they were all hanging out and this particular guy went in a room with another guy, and Elliott gave him a real hard time when they came out, like, just read ‘em the Riot Act or whatever. And I think he regretted that because he was, you know — oh, I do know when he realized he was (gay), actually, I forget he told me.

FW: In –?

PR: He had a girlfriend.

FW: He had a girlfriend?

PR: He had a girlfriend. Loved her. Loved her, loved her. Wanted to have sex with her. But he could not perform. And he said, “Well, I just kept thinking, if she was a guy, I’d like her.”

FW: Do you remember about how old he was when –?

PR: That was right after — I was — it was probably — I think it was right after he graduated from high school.

FW: Okay

PR: It may have been that senior — I think he dated her part of his senior year and part of his freshman year. They dated for a while.

FW: Of college (the freshman year)?

PR: Of college, yes, yes. Then come to find out later that she’s a lesbian. Like, wow.

FW: That works out for them.

PR: Yeah.

FW: After Elliott died — so, there was still you, both your parents, and your older brother?

PR: Yes.

FW: Was that — what was that like for y’all as a family? I know you mentioned earlier that y’all were overwhelmed by the outpouring of people who wanted to support you, is that — ?

PR: Yeah, right. It changed my life, I know, because I made so many new friends. My brother lived in Mobile at the time, so it probably did not affect him very much. We did — it’s really weird, that first Christmas, we were real nervous, and my brother brought his daughter up and I took my two children, we went up to stay with my parents for a couple of days, and it ended up — we were all dreading it, because it was the first Christmas without Elliott — and it ended up being such a wonderful, sweet, hilarious Christmas that my brother and I stayed another night, and I remember thinking that was so weird, ‘cause I used to tell my mother, you know, “I’ve got you for seventy-two hours and that’s enough, I’ve gotta go back home.” It was really sweet, and my mother laughed at me because one of the last things I said to Elliott the night he was dying was, “Elliott, I need you to do me a favor.” He’s like, “What?” I said, “The minute you get to Heaven, will you please come back and get your grandmother?” Because my dad’s mother had been an invalid and was bedridden for — since ‘96. This was in — he died in August of ‘99. In September of ‘99, my grandmother was talking to somebody, my mother went in to check on her. “Who you talkin’ to?” “I’m talkin’ to your son.” And then she says, “Well, Bill is in Mobile, he’s not here.” “Well, that’s not the son I’m talkin’ to! I’m talkin’ to Elliot!” And that was the last coherent thing she said. She died January 8th (2000). And they — my mother’s like, “My gosh, he did it. He did it! He came back and got her!”

FW: Had she known that Elliott was gay, or –?

PR: Who, my grandmother?

FW: Yes.

PR: I doubt it. She — I mean, she may have. I don’t know, we never discussed it. He was just Elliott. I mean, it didn’t, it was — it was just his sexual orientation. It didn’t define who he was.

FW: You mentioned askin’ him that on the night he was dying — was it then very clear to y’all that this was, like, the end, or what?

PR: Yes. Yes, it was. They called from the hospital and said, “Your” — he would — well, let me go back. He would “blue sky.” “Oh yeah, everything’s fine, everything’s great, lalala.” And then all of a sudden I’d find out that he’d been in the hospital. And my mother calls, she says, “I’ve got a bad feelin’ about Elliott. I think he might be getting ready to die.” And I’m like, “Mother, I have that feeling, too.” “Well talk to him, Pat.”Okay. So, with all my tact I call him up. It was a Thursday. “Elliott? What’s going on?” “No, not much.” I said, “Well you gettin’ ready to up and die on us?” “Well, I don’t know. Hadn’t thought about it.” But that’s my tact. And we talked for about forty-five minutes to an hour — longest conversation we’d had in quite some time, I had two young kids, so I didn’t do much. You know, spent a lot of time at the ball field. And I said, “Well, let me tell you something.” He goes, “Well, I’m trying to be strong for you and Mom and Dad and the boys (his nephews, Ms. Richeson’s sons).” I go, “Well, I think it’s time that we switch roles. You let us be strong for you.” I said, “And no more blue skying.” “Well, what do you mean?” I said, “I don’t wanna find out you’ve been in the hospital for a week. I wanna know when you go in.” Well, the next day he had something happen and they admitted him. And he called me and I helped him get admitted, was listed as his next of kin — which they had not done before — because he was there, I went and bought him some new pajamas and stuff, you know — just what big sisters do. He was so proud of those pajamas. He even brought his air purifier so he could smoke in his hotel room — his hospital room, which I shouldn’t say for posterity’s sake, but (laughter). He, um — so they called me, because that’s what I was listed as, a contact, said “He’s taken a turn for the worse. We could do surgery, but we don’t recommend it.” The surgical team at UAB. “And he can’t make the decision. Because when we tell him he doesn’t need surgery he says ‘Okay,’ but when we say we’re gonna attempt the surgery, he says ‘Okay,’ and he’s in too much pain to make the decision.” And I said, “Well hold on, let me get my parents on the phone.” I had — luckily at the time I was workin’ out of my house and I had two lines so I conferenced them in. My dad had just taken a sleeping pill. And he (the doctor) says, “Well, if you’re not gonna do surgery, we’ll move him to intensive care.” And I said, “No, you’re not.” The surgeon said, “What do you mean?” I said, “If he’s gonna be dead in four hours, why move him to intensive care? Let him stay in his room.” He had a big, corner, private room with three or four chairs in it, a little sofa — I was like, “No. Leave him there.” Surgeon said, “Well, I’ve never had that request before.” And I said, “Well, too bad!” (laughter) You know, and um, Mom and Dad said they’d be right there, um, so they got up and drove, and um, my — my youngest one was not even in kindergarten yet, so we knew we weren’t gonna take him up there, so that meant my husband was gonna have to stay home with the little one. But my then twelve-year-old? — He was not quite thirteen, he turned thirteen about two weeks later, said he was gonna go with me. Like, “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Well, he talked my husband into letting him go. And, um, he was a trooper. So, um, we did know — we knew that we only had hours left, and we get up there, and the infectious disease team that worked for Dr. Saag — Mike Saag, who I mentioned earlier — was there saying, “Well, what if he is that 1% of 1% that could survive?” And, uh, the surgeons were saying, “Look at him! He’s skin and bones now, the surgery only has a 40% chance — survival rate if you’re really healthy! The odds are 99.9% that he’s gonna die on the table! If he does live, that 1% chance that he does live, he’s gonna be on a colostomy and live in a vegetative state!” He had a 1% of 1% chance to live a normal life afterwards, and he wasn’t livin’ a normal life. And Mike Saag had been in Atlanta, he came straight to the hospital, and he said, “Pat, we need to do — we need to do the surgery on him.” He goes, “What do you think?” I go, “I think he’s tired of fighting.” He said, “Well, I know,” and I told him about the conversation, he goes, “Well, that’s your decision, then.” So I had to make that decision.

FW: So you were the one who had to tell the doctors this?

PR: Not — yeah. Tell Elliott that we weren’t gonna do surgery. He kept saying, “Boy, that’s weird! Isn’t that weird?” I was like, “Yeah, that’s kinda weird, but….” I think it was the right decision, because he was tired of suffering. He had had no quality of life for about three or four months as it was. ‘Cause he was on a PICC line, he had to carry the IV with him everywhere he went, and he didn’t — I mean, I knew he was real bad off when I called about a week earlier and said, “Hey, would you like for me to bring the boys over?” “I don’t feel like it.” He — those boys were the apples of his eye. They — they called him “Unc.” And he loved those boys more than he loved life itself. And they did him, but…. So that was kinda my first clue something wasn’t right. And the little cuss passed when I went up, got up — I stayed with him all night, I got up to go to the restroom, he passed while I was in the restroom. (laughter) My mother never left his side. Stood by him the whole night. Was strokin’ his ear and tellin’ him how much she loved him, what a great kid he had been, and all that, but….

FW: I’ve only got one question left.

PR: Okay.

FW: That is, how would you like people to remember Elliott?

PR: Well, I think Elliott has got a great memory at the University of Alabama because of the work he did on the GSU, getting it established, and I think his legacy lives on that way, and that (indistinct), you know, gave our family — and still gives my mom and me — a tremendous satisfaction and happiness, that he has left such a great legacy. And then the fact, you know, he was so smart, and his humor was so hilarious. I mean, how many people do you know, you go in there and you know they’ve got hours left to live, “Wow, this is weird, isn’t it?” I mean, that’s not usually what somebody would say! (laughter) And that’s just the way he was. He — you know, he came in, probably, with a smile and he left with a smile.

FW: Well, thank you so much.

PR: Oh, my pleasure.

FW: — for your time, I appreciate that.

PR: My pleasure.