Son David At Peace

Our eldest son David about whom I have been posting blogs died peacefully, surrounded by family on Saturday morning, Feb. 14. He is at rest. See below for his bio:

DAVE KIESCHNICK OBITUARY

Childhood

David Allan Kieschnick was born on Sept. 14, 1952 in Tracy, California, the first born of Mel and Jane Kieschnick. He was baptized at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Tracy. After living briefly in Glendale California, he moved to Hong Kong with his parents at the age of four.

In Hong Kong he lived a happy ten years exploring neighborhoods where few foreign children ever roamed. Soon after settling in Kowloon, Hong Kong he was enrolled in a Chinese-only kindergarten. Following kindergarten, Dave attended Kowloon Junior and King George V schools where he learned the Queen’s English, Latin, and a unique combination of British/American/Chinese culture (“Three cheers—and one for the tiger!”). On his thirteenth birthday his family (by then he had two sisters and two brothers) returned to the United States, where he graduated from Huron High School in Ann Arbor, Michigan with a National Merit Finalist honor and then from Concordia Teachers College, Chicago, where he served as student body president at the height of the turbulent 60’s.

Career

In the early 70’s Dave served as Director of Christian Education for Hyde Park Lutheran Church,  a radical church community operating out of “The Mansion,” (which is now the Chicago home of the Obama family.) He also worked on the streets of Glen Ellen, Illinois, helping troubled teens. Then Dave surprised us all when he made a dramatic career shift to become Director of Training for Evans Furs of Chicago, where he immersed himself in the finer points of high fashion. After Evans, Dave founded “Off-Site, Inc.,” his own HR and computer consulting agency. Finally, in 2007 Dave moved to San Diego to be near his aging parents, continuing to support small businesses with his unique combination of technical expertise and a rare ability to translate between techies and regular people.

LGBTQ Advocacy & Support

Dave had a lifelong passion for social justice, and continually gave voice to the disenfranchised.  An early leader and fearless advocate in the gay rights movement, he helped pave the way for a generation of youth able to grow up fully embracing who they were. Dave courageously came out of the closet, frequently standing in front of audiences as the first out-of-the-closet gay man they had ever met.

aDave was a founder of Lutherans Concerned-Chicago, the leading advocacy and support group for the LGBTQ community in the Lutheran church. At a time when the only places for LGBTQ people to find each other were bars and bathhouses, Dave helped create safe places for people to meet, worship, socialize, and support each other. Dave was President of the founding Board of Directors of Gay Horizons (now the “Center on Halstead”), the Midwest's largest LGBTQ social service agency.  Dave wrote and spoke extensively about grace and inclusion and was a leader of the Maywood House Church which met for worship and fellowship for more than 30 years.

At the height of the AIDS crisis in the U.S., Dave traveled to many parts of the country, providing comfort to many who would otherwise have died alone.  He sponsored and supported persons seeking political asylum from Communist China, provided sanctuary for Afghan refugees, and challenged Americans to live up to the ideals on which our country was founded.

Lifestyle

A consummate host and gourmet cook, Dave relished good wine and fine cuisine, and celebrated life with finesse and style. He sure knew how to throw a party! Dave made many, many people feel welcome who didn’t feel welcome anywhere else.  He loved to travel internationally, was fascinated by history and culture, and seemingly remembered everything he ever read or learned.

Dave loved music, theater and film. He had an eye for beauty whether in fine art, a relic from some exotic place, the colors of an insect’s wings, or a discarded treasure scavenged from a Chicago alley. He didn’t just appreciate art; he made it. Dave was a storyteller extraordinaire and an eloquent writer. He was a gifted potter who combined his aesthetic sensibilities with great personal discipline to create many beautiful things.

Dave was a courageous voice for the oppressed, adamantly refusing to accept injustice. And most of all, Dave was a man with a huge, compassionate heart who gave shelter to wounded and weary hearts. Even now, he continues to give us all strength for the journey.

Family

While in Chicago Dave lived in a committed relationship with Doug Wilmore for more than 30 years. He was at the center of a large and extended LGBTQ family, many of whom had no other family. He was a loving and devoted son, a great brother and uncle, and a steadfast friend.

David died February 14, 2015 at his home in San Diego at the age of 62. He is survived by his parents, Mel and Jane Kieschnick, and by his siblings: Peggy Kieschnick (Phil Hatcher), Tim Kieschnick (Wendy Fiering), Elizabeth Kieschnick (Jim Flanders), John Kieschnick (Regina Llamas) and his nephews and nieces: Christina Hatcher (Ariel O’Sharenko), John Hatcher, Anza Fiering, Jon Flanders, Ryan Flanders, Maria Flanders, Antonio Kieschnick, Clara Kieschnick and a community of friends both here and around the world. 

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WAITING FOR DEATH

This is a tough blog to write. Reading it may be more than some would like. I get that.

I sit here beside my 62-year old eldest son, David, hoping and praying that each breath may be his last, finally bringing him eternal peace.

It all began about 4 years ago. His dentist suggested doing a biopsy of a nodule in his cheek. It was malignant. A major portion of his lower jaw was removed, followed by hypobaric treatment, radiation and chemotherapy. After that he was well enough to go back to work, to cruise Europe with sister Peggy and to provide a sanctuary in his granny flat for a refugee from Afghanistan.

After months of good and not so good experiences with several medical systems he attempted all options: vegan, non-protein and non-lactose diets, higher, healthier doses of supplements, more radiation more chemo and acupuncture. The final verdict: “There is nothing more medically that can be done.” He and we decided to manage the pain, no more liquids and no more nourishment. Stay at home under hospice care and await death.

So now for some 2 weeks that’s what we do. He is home. His siblings, his friends from here, from Chicago and elsewhere sit with him briefly. We had our family farewell with David himself concluding the session by him saying, “It’s time for us to say The Lord’s Prayer together.”

So I sit by his side. His eyes stare blindly into space. The bandage hides the entire right side of his face which, when I looked at it last, brought back terrible memories of seeing those same features in people whom I saw in Hong Kong dying of leprosy.

As I sit I hum hymns and folk songs. I tell him softly of his youthful escapades with snails, of his wandering the streets of Hong Kong enjoying the wah mueys he bought from street vendors. I recall him at age 12 caring for 3 younger siblings on a transpacific flight while I was attending his mother in a coma up in first class. I recall how his high school friends ridiculed his strict English school politeness – which his teacher admired. I recall for him briefly the challenge of his being a college student body president in the early 70’s.

I come to tears as I recall my initial prejudice and ignorance when he first invited me for a just-the-two-of-us weekend retreat during which he disclosed that he was gay. I remember with gratitude how he bore evangelical witness to the Church, how he repeatedly visited those dying of AIDS for whom he was the only family and friend.

I smile as I recall good family times, especially at Christmas, or at his wonderful vacation home, our trips together or more recently just the two of us sharing a beer at a neighborhood bar. And I remember our shared anger at the prejudice, ignorance, and rejection shown him and gays around the country and world.

Then I force my mind to the father-son bonds which are inseparable. I contemplate all the mysteries of the life to come. And then I stroke his arms once more and whisper loud enough for him to hear in the depths of his soul, “Come sweet sleep. Come sweet peace.”