Remembering Wynn

I'd like to share some of my memories of Wynn---someone the world will definitely miss.

 

I have known Wynn since I was a freshman at Will Rice College, and from the first I knew he was different. In a place where geekiness was abounding, Wynn took the cake, with his nametag, the tape drive ring he wore as an anklet, and his constant punning. Even when he got to be a bit much, he was an inspiration to anyone who wanted to be different and proud of it.

 

I didn't keep in touch very well with Wynn after graduation, but from 1997 to 2000 I was fortunate enough to be back at Rice, and very soon I bumped into Wynn. We ended up spending a lot of time together during those three years. At first I thought that Wynn was the same amusing, nontraditional character I remembered from Will Rice, but I quickly learned that he had really grown, and had deepened.  He was still a punster---I never even tried to keep up with him in a pun war---and his love of Dr. Seuss and of slugs had certainly not diminished.  But there was a lot more.

 

One thing I saw in him really impressed me: he strove to make all of his encounters as meaningful and genuine as possible. I can't imagine how many store clerks, bank tellers, or passersby he enriched just by really engaging them as people, something that most people rarely do. Sometimes I felt that he did this just to get attention---and yes, that was part of it. But he really did connect to people, and there must have been dozens of times when I was with him that he left somebody scratching his head and saying "well, that was a fun person, and that brightened my day."

 

That engaging part of Wynn's personality fit very well with his interest in Buddhism, which was another thing that deepened and enriched him, and which was surprising to me. I was fortunate enough to join him for one service and discussion at the temple, which showed me a little bit of what Wynn got out of that part of his life.  Wynn's desire to connect with people also made me sure that he would be a good nurse, even though I hadn't been in close touch with him while he was completing that program.

 

I was also fortunate to be someone who could celebrate and appreciate Wynn's sexuality. In the years between our undergraduate days and my return to Houston I had gotten to know and embrace the gay community, a community I still am active with as a straight ally. I felt that coming out and understanding his sexual identity had helped Wynn tremendously and made him a more whole person.  The defensiveness that I had seen in his personality was gone, replaced by more openness, and more happiness. Some of my most fond memories of Wynn are of hanging out on Westheimer, and being part of the community there. I could also see Wynn learning some of the hard, maturing facts of relationships, as well as the joy, and both aspects contributed to his growth.

 

I don't know if it's that the news hasn't really sunk in, but I cannot feel sad right now thinking about Wynn, and I hope I never really do. I remember happy memories of a fundamentally happy person, someone who I'm sure wouldn't want me to feel sad now. I probably will feel sad as the reality sinks in, or as we approach a reunion, or when I visit Houston and think that I won't be able to see him and catch up; but I know that in feeling sad I won't be acting in the spirit of Wynn.

 

David Metzler