Dan Speck was a lovely man, intelligent, generous, and quick with a smile.
People were often first attracted to Dan’s height, and back in the ages before cellphones, when we were at a club, rally, or parade, we would all look for Dan standing a full head above the crowd, to bring us all together. “Meet at Dan” was the unspoken agreement. What brought people closer, were Dan’s kindness, confidence, and easygoing acceptance of people as they were. Dan didn’t like complications, and when you were with him, everything seemed to sort itself out with minimal drama.
I met Dan in the Winter of 1983, and even then it was “Dan and John” or “John and Dan”. People want to know the secret that makes a relationship work, but there was no secret. Dan and John loved each other and enjoyed each other’s company. Their similarities brought them together, and their differences complemented each other.
With several other Ithaca friends, we quickly became a close second family, growing up together as we worked through college and coming out. Throughout the decades, wherever Dan and John lived, I knew I had a second home, a place to stay, spend holidays, join family. Sometimes many years would go by before we saw each other again, but the connections were always there, strong and comfortable.
Dan had wide-ranging musical tastes and was always bringing forward new discoveries from unexpected places: Iris Dement, Rufus Wainwright, Elliott Smith, Ethyl Meatplow…. Dan had a great sense of humor and appreciated the absurd, irreverent, and perverse. We would often laugh just at the mention of a particular word or phrase from an escapade or an obscure book, song, or movie.
Dan was strong and a black-belt in karate. He was a protector of underdogs and lover of furry creatures. He was always stopping to pet kitties, and he fed squirrels from his front porch. I was one of the many squirrels who enjoyed his company.
When we lived in Ithaca, the summer days were long, almost endeless. After work or class, we would gather at John and Dan’s little apartment on Terrace Place and grill on the back deck. We would laugh and drink as the sun slowly set. I would think, “This is the way my life will always be: joyful, gentle, surrounded by friends.” Dan was like a brother to me. I love him, and I will carry him in my heart.