Ten years ago today, Matthew Shepard died.  Just three days earlier, he’d been picked up in a bar by two men.  They robbed him, tortured him, beat him, pistol whipped him, and left him tied to a fence in freezing temperatures in Laramie, Wyoming because he was gay.  He was discovered 18 hours later by a cyclist who thought he was a scarecrow.  Matthew’s parents did not seek the death penalty in court.  They gave his tormenters life in prison, despite that they had taken the life of Matthew.

I don’t know where I was on that day.  It was 1998 so I had been living in Memphis for 3 years.  I was still in college.  Besides that, I couldn’t tell you where I was at exactly the moment I heard Matthew had died.  I’m sure I was glued to the television and praying he’d live.  I do know the effects it’s had on me since then.  I remember his mother visiting Memphis.  I have a book of poetry about Matthew which is signed by Judy.  As I write this now, I wonder where she is and how she is doing on this day.

I know who Matthew Shepard is.  I know he’d turn 32 this year on December 1st, the same age as me, if he was still alive.  I wonder where he’d gone in life, what’d he done, who’d he loved.  I wish he had lived.  I wish none of this would have ever happened to him, and that the world might not have known who Matthew Shepard was for the reason we do.

Rest in peace, Matthew.  We will never forget you.