Letters

This page is a personal diary of letters we sent in the midst of a challenge in making Dale's quilt panel. To our surprise, we faced a lot of opposition. The letters may not hold any personal interest to anyone other than seeing how strongly we felt in our quest to complete it, and in creating our memorial for Dale... Almost 11 years have now passed, but there are still some strong feelings from those who opposed it. We've moved on - but these letters can hopefully show our feelings at the time. In re-reading them, I thought the letters were interesting as a time-capsule of the era of stigmatizing a disease. They also may be interesting to anyone who is thinking about creating a quilt panel for their friends.

Letter to Dale's mother, Shirley - one of our primary opponents to the creation of the quilt:

Dear Shirley,

Now that 2 and a half years have passed since we lost Dale, I thought it was time that I at least attempted to put something to rest. That of course is the subject that caused so many strong opinions and some hard feelings on both sides of the fence... The quilt.

What started out as a simple idea, ended up being the catalyst for a lot of people to go in separate directions. I hope that the time that has passed has allowed some of those strong feelings to mellow a little bit. I'm not expecting for you to completely embrace the idea that we created a quilt panel in Dale's honor, but maybe to understand a little bit of what we were feeling and what we accomplished.

We let a lot of time pass between the time we first started talking about it, to the time that we completed it, hoping that the time would help heal how you felt about it. We also took that time (almost 2 years) to make sure that we looked at our own motives to make sure we weren't doing it for the wrong reasons. Some people dropped out along the way, but Ric and Fred and I never wavered from the original goal. We knew what we were doing was right.

It wasn't done against you, or against Van, it was done for Dale and for us, and to some extent all the other friends that died because of the disease. Working on the quilt allowed us to mourn, and allowed us to work through our feelings in our own way, not someone else's idea of how we should have dealt with it. We put a lot of thought into it, and a lot of love and feeling. We were also angry. If something had been done about AIDS when it first started appearing in this country, we would probably still have Dale with us. In the last 2 and a half years, new drugs have been discovered that have turned some people's situation around. Had they started doing something 15 years ago... who knows where we would be by now.

We also felt that our perspective was different. Ric and I had been dealing with the knowledge of Dale having HIV for about 8 years, from the day he tested positive. That was more than half of the 15 years I knew Dale, and twice the amount of time that he dealt with the subject with Van.

Dale dealt with it much differently around us than he dealt with it around the family or around Van. I'm sure that he didn't want to totally devastate a family that had already dealt with a lot of tragedy. He kept it secret from you for the longest time, then kept pretty much quiet about it. I know it was one of the most difficult things he ever had to tell you. And on a daily basis, I'm sure that it was not a subject that he wanted to remind Van about, over and over again.

Around us, and to people like Roger and Larry, Dale was much more up-front about it. He and I talked about it openly and honestly. Dale was scared about what the disease was going to do to him, and scared about the way the world would treat him if it were widespread knowledge. He dealt with it the best way he knew how, telling people at his own pace. He was not embarrassed or ashamed, there was no reason to be. The ignorance of our society is where the stigma came from.

The subject of the quilt never came up except for the time that he went to see it displayed in Washington, and to say what a moving tribute it was. If I felt that Dale would have been against it for one second, I never would have continued on with it. You know how I treated Dale. Did I ever once do anything to betray Dale or do something that would embarrass him? Never. I loved Dale as much as members of my own family, more than my own life. I still do.

The quilt panel was a way to show the world that he mattered. We didn't want Dale to become just another statistic, known only to his circle of family and friends. We completed the quilt in time for the national display of the entire quilt in Washington DC in October. There were over 40000 other panels there, all for other people who mattered. We wanted to put a name to the statistic. That's why it's called the Names Project. Because of how you felt, the one compromise we made was to not include Dale's last name. When they read his name, it was only as "Dale".

Yes, anyone who knew him well would recognize the symbolism we put into the quilt panel. They will recognize his signature. Anyone who knew him that well also knew that Dale had AIDS. Even if you think that people didn't know, sorry to say, they did. I can't tell you how many people have told us that they felt awkward because of the "official story" that Dale died of something else. People aren't that naïve. But they understood, as do we, about how others chose to deal with it.

If it makes you feel any better, with 40000 other panels there, people didn't have the time to stop and try to understand the meaning behind each and every one. It's impossible. Even someone who knew Dale very well, could easily have passed over it without realizing. It's that overwhelming. And that's the point.

The quilt speaks as a whole. When you see 12 football fields filled with pieces of fabric or mementos from someone's life, each panel done to the size of a human grave, all you can do is visualize how many people have died, and what a small segment of the people who have really died are represented by a quilt panel. It was laid out on the Washington Mall, dwarfing the Vietnam memorial, which ironically, listed every name of every American who died in that entire war, still counted as less than 40000. If that doesn't send a message, I don't know what will. I know that had Dale died in that war, you would have no qualms whatsoever about his name, his whole name, being put on that wall.

Again, I don't expect that you will embrace it. It would be nice for you to look at it, and to see what we put into it. Like I said, it was for Dale, and for us. If you and the family want to think of me as a pariah, and completely forget the way I treated Dale for 15 years, that's your choice. My goal with this letter is to share with you the finished product, and to put it to rest. Dale's memory will remain with me daily for the rest of my life. The hard feelings about the quilt is a cloud over those memories that I'd rather ignore, but think it's time to confront.

Enclosed you will find a photocopy of the quilt block of 8 panels, that Dale's panel was sewn in with. If you ever get a chance to see the quilt display, It might hold more meaning for you.

As always, Steve

Letter to Van, Dale's partner of 4 years - who was opposed to the quilt for his own reasons.

Van, After trying to talk with you the other night, I realized that it’s very easy at this point for me to get extremely emotional when talking about this. I felt a letter was the best way to express my thoughts and feelings so that you can at least hear my viewpoint. You’ve given me the reasons as to why you don’t want to do a quilt panel. Regardless of whether or not we agree, I understand your decision and the way you feel.

I feel very strongly about doing this and have decided to organize the effort for whomever is interested in participating. Each person that wants to contribute to the thoughts and ideas behind it will have an equal part in the creation of the quilt panel. There will be no hard feelings against those who choose not to participate nor any pressure to urge someone to join in.

I feel no shame in what caused my dear friend’s life to be cut short. There is no stigma in my mind or heart as to the way he died. Dale was the biggest part of my life for 15 years, and I would never do anything that would be an embarrassment to his memory. I feel that we had Dale with us much longer than was ever possible in the early stages of this disease, probably because the loved ones of those who died before Dale made some kind of statement about finding a cure or treatment.

Although it is too late for Dale, and for those who loved him, that statement must still be made, over and over again, to bring this horrible disease to an end. I don’t want to lose anyone else I love, ever again.

This is an expression of love. If anyone who sees the panel once it’s completed cannot see the caring behind it, they most assuredly have never experienced that kind of love. I would like to think that the strangers who weren’t lucky enough to know Dale, will see how special he was to our lives. The people who go to see the quilt when it’s being displayed are only the people who have ever cared about, loved, lost or known someone who has been taken by this scourge. I sincerely doubt that anyone who ever sees it has not been touched by this one way or the other.

Dale always said “Get out of your head and into your heart”, which, after quite an emotional struggle, I finally have done. I feel in my heart that he would not be against this. When Dale saw the Names Project Quilt in Washington DC, he said that it was the most moving experience of his life. The whole impetus behind getting it started was a way to bring us closer together, including you, which I know Dale would have loved.

We are suffering... We are grieving. We are a group of people that loved Dale for half our lives. Each of us may choose to remember Dale in different ways, and the more ways the better. There is no right or wrong way if someone feels it’s right. This is right for us.

A letter to the Names Project in our submittal of the quilt

Our quilt panel was made in loving memory of Dale Edward Minnix. Dale was a man of tremendous color-- almost animated. When he walked into a room, heads would turn, not only because of his stunning features (both physical and spiritual), but because he was full of color, full of life. In creating a quilt panel to commemorate his life, we wanted to work with a palette that was bright and fun, just like Dale.

Dale walked a lot of miles in his life and took a lot of different paths. They finally led him to the life he always had dreamed of... a sense of family, home, and of a profession where he was comfortable and strong. He understood loyalty and taught us what it meant to be a great friend. At the center of his "family" were four dachshunds, all of which are reflected on the quilt, each representing one of his life's passions.

From left to right, there is "Maggie" (a dapple-dachshund) portraying the character "Cosette" from the Broadway musical "Les Miserable's". It was undoubtedly his favorite musical, and coincidentally was conducted on Broadway by Ross Allen, a mutual friend who also died of this horrible disease. The lyrics from the show spoke to Dale, and to us, which is why we chose to put an excerpt on the quilt. The words reflect how we feel from losing our dear friend.

Next is "Sadie" who is transformed into Barbra Streisand, Dale's favorite performer. We are sure he is smiling down upon Sadie dressed as "Babs" knowing that we tried to capture one of his most sincere, lifelong passions.

Third, we have "Abbie", whose smart ensemble is the United Airlines uniform that Dale proudly wore. After mastering many different professions, Dale eased comfortably into one of the best flight attendants, trainers and coordinators that United has ever known. Abbie reflects the discipline and professional satisfaction that Dale finally found in his chosen profession.

And last, we have Katie, his favorite of the "girls" (but don't ever tell the other three). When Dale passed away, it was Katie who instinctively knew that something was wrong. We couldn't think of a better way to express this deep connection between them them to have Katie be the "sad doggie"-- and to reflect the way we feel with his tremendous loss.

Red carnations also play a significant part, which of course was Dale's favorite flower. Besides being scattered about, Katie is holding a large red carnation in her mouth, of which the stem curves into Dale's unique signature.

This quilt has been created among many tears, pain and even dissension among his closest friends and family. Yet, what we found to be most ironic is that people who didn't even have the pleasure to meet our dear friend gave so much of themselves to it's creation, while others who were close to him chose not to participate. We are grateful to the Names Project for creating a means through which we can channel our tremendous grief, although we're sad for the need to create such a visible reminder of the tragedy behind it. Our sincere thanks to Christine Birt, Alexis Kee, Sharon, Frank Navin, Tico Valle, and Shelley Strasser for their time, dedication and enthusiasm, and a very special thank you to Bob Knuth, who perfectly captured Dale's spirit and gave us the visual essence of Dale.

This quilt is dedicated to the memory of a great and true friend. We miss Dale more than words, or this quilt, can express.

Steve Amann, Ric Roe & Fred Hairston

A letter sharing the finished product with Dale's friends.

Dear friends,

Recently, we dedicated a quilt panel to the Names Project AIDS Memorial Quilt in honor of the life of Dale Minnix. From the original idea, to many design ideas, design drafts and a few changes, to the fabric selection and finally to the sewing of each individual piece, we completed it in April.

Dale's quilt panel has been sewn in with over 45,000 other quilt panels, and will soon be in the last display of the entire quilt in Washington DC (October 11-13). It has already been displayed in a smaller regional exhibit here in Chicago. We will be in Washington to see Dale's panel and to participate in the Candlelight March. Of course, we wanted to bring along all of you, but it costs a lot to put you all in the lap of luxury to which you are accustomed! We hope you'll settle for a few pictures and an explanation. We are proud of it and want to share it with Dale's friends.

This was all done with fabric and just a tiny bit of fabric paint for fine touches (be very impressed). It has a 3-D quality to it (the dogs faces, legs, noses and ears are raised in different levels) and feels just like a very soft blanket. It's very snugly.

Some of this will be common knowledge to you if you knew Dale really well, and other things might be a little less obvious, so stick with us here on the symbolism and other characteristics:

1) We chose a bright color pallet; vivid yellow and a lot of red, because of Dale's colorful personality and because those were the colors to which he was usually drawn. We also wanted a "cartoon-y" fun feeling since the little boy in Dale was one of his most endearing qualities.

2) Red carnations were his favorite flower, so we scattered them all over. We wanted it to look as though we threw some into the air and landed on the quilt.

3) The wording at the top is an excerpt from the song "On my Own" from the musical Les Miserable's. It reads: "Without him, the world around me changes, the trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers". Beyond the fact that this was Dale's favorite song from his favorite musical, the words spoke to us about how we feel with losing him.

4) Down at the bottom are Dale's four dachshunds, each representing some other part of his life. From left to right, there is:

Maggie - the dapple dachshund, dressed up as Cosette from Les Miserable's (look at the CD cover and you'll get the picture). She's standing in front of a flowing tattered red and blue flag, and wearing Cosette's little french hat and her white banner across her chest.

Sadie - the red and black dachshund, dressed up as Barbra Streisand, wearing white pearls and holding a microphone in her paw. You can't see it in the photos, but she's detailed down to the long red fingernails.

Abbie - the little black dachshund, dressed in a blue United Airlines uniform, complete with hat and flight attendant wings.

Katie - (Dale's little girl) the red dachshund. She represents the sadness in losing Dale, holding a large red carnation in her mouth. Look closely, and you'll see Dale's unique signature embroidered into the middle of the flower (again, be impressed).

That's it! We wanted to share it with you and to let you know that if you ever get the chance to see one of the smaller regional displays in your area, you'll know what to look for (although there's no guarantee that Dale's panel will be in your particular display). After October, the quilt will again be split up and shown across the country in different events, schools and colleges.

Originally, Dale's panel was in San Francisco, where they assigned an ID number (#4227) to it so that we can always track where it is being displayed. It was also digitally photographed to be put onto CD ROM so that there is a history of each individual panel for decades to come. If you are interested in when it might be in your area, or where it is at any particular time, just give us a call.

We hope you can see that this was done entirely with love and respect for Dale's memory. It was our tribute to Dale, and meant a lot to us in completing it. Thanks for letting us share it with you. The display brings further awareness to this horrible disease, and speaks for our other friends living with HIV.

Sincerely, Steve Amann, Ric Roe & Fred Hairston