Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

I didn’t know him well, not really. I’d run into him from time to time at our LGBTQ committee meetings. He was kind of effeminate, and I figured he was gay. We worked together at a hospital — I wrote grant applications and he fixed things. “Gotta go save the world,” he’d say after our meetings concluded, having received numerous pages about a leaky toilet or a broken door handle.