Whenever friends or family asked how Peter and I had met, that was our stock reply.
We met at summer’s end in 1992, just before classes were to begin for each of us teachers—he was returning to French American International School, I to University High School. Our first weekend was spent away from one another—at faculty retreats. He sent me a postcard, the first of a multitude in our all too brief time together.
The San Francisco LGBT Community Center now occupies the spot where we met. I walked with him the four blocks to his apartment on Fell Street. He walked with me the one more block to my apartment, also on Fell. We remained together from that first night—until his last.