"You ever get the feelin'... I don't know, er... when you're in town and someone looks at you all suspicious, like he knows? And then you go out on the pavement and everyone looks like they know too?" Ennis Del Mar

"The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules." The Joker

Heath Ledger, a gifted actor with great promise, died recently, yet he won a Golden Globe for his role as The Joker in The Dark Knight. He's nominated for that role --and is the presumptive favorite-- to win a posthumous Oscar.

Those honors may bring some comfort to his family, but they won't bring back a good man gone too soon.

I know that from painful personal experience. Heath Ledger's untimely death and the renewed interest in his short, brilliant career brought back memories of the death of a friend, another good man gone too soon. Taken not by accident, but by murder. Worse, a homophobic, rage-filled hate crime.

In 1975 my wonderful friend and mentor Ron was beaten to death, literally beyond recognition, because he was gay. After all these years, there's inevitably something that brings that horror back to haunt me. Because no matter it's 2010, the 21st Century, not much has really changed ... in many bigots' hearts.

Heath Ledger's first major starring role as the desperately conflicted homosexual Ennis in the movie Brokeback Mountain hit me hard with personal irony. His character's struggle so clearly reflected Ron's. The double lives each was forced to lead -- one in public, the other in the shadows. Both fatally flawed, and ultimately doomed.

Ledger's role as the Joker added more irony, giving me flashbacks about cruelty and brutality and loss. The Joker is so out there, so alienated, damaged, feared and loathed. He's the wild card, the anti-good, also fatally flawed. Also doomed.

Both movies take on universal polarizing issues. Good vs evil. Right and wrong. People living conventionally or outside the mainstream. The troubling consequences of misunderstood lives. And the possibility of redemption. Of life without fear.

Together they form a juicy tabloid connection for the media, especially since Heath Ledger's death. For me, an eerie, personal connection to the violent death of my friend Ron. An event still complicated and puzzling and so very wrong.

The real irony is that while Ron was gay, he was so unconventional, unusual, unique, he took a long time to figure it out. He was an amalgam, a hedonist, a seeker and practitioner of connection and pleasure from any source, male or female.  

Ron was also a product of his generation, at war with conformity and his Catholic upbringing, savoring success and the good life in a quest for balance and freedom. He married young, became the father of two. No saint, he had a roving eye -- for women. And, it turned out, for men too.

I met Ron in 1968 while I was at Penn, volunteering for the DNC, where he was already a savvy operative. It was Ron who helped me set my course and lose my political virginity while protecting me at the Democratic National Convention that year in Chicago.

We worked together in Philly, throughout Pennsylvania, in Washington and around the country in the early 70's, along with a cadre of other young, idealistic Boomers who had chosen government service as a way to change the world.

We also played together. Some of the time. Clearly there were areas of his life hidden from me and the rest of his full-time hetero friends.

Like the West of the 1960's, politics in the 1970's was all about hiding, denying, any form of homosexuality. Gays and bisexuals, conflicted about their sexual preferences were driven deeper underground to achieve success in the unenlightened straight world.

A secret subculture existed in state capitols and the nation's capitol where gays shared their sense of alienation, frustration and anger. The little I knew of that world seemed filled with self-loathing, desperation and pain.

Even in my very early, callow 20's I thought it was wrong -- not that they were gay, but that they were forced to hide. And feel any kind of shame.

Because then as now, prejudice, hatred and violence were the weapons others used to confront a lifestyle that confused, offended and ultimately clouded their mainstream judgment.

And with a senseless, despicable hate crime snuffed out Ron's life at the age of 30. A bright, committed, hardworking political servant. A funny, kind, loyal friend. A caring, thoughtful lover. A devoted husband and loving father (yes, really). Taken by the rage and bigotry of three US Marines.

"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?" Ernest Gaines

Which adds more irony to the location of Ron's murder: in the shadow of the Iwo Jima Memorial in Washington, DC. That symbol of America at its best was a clandestine meeting place for gays. And horribly, a hunting ground for those who decried their lifestyle.

Because Ron worked on the campaign of a US Senator and Presidential hopeful, the media was filled with stories of the crime, the perpetrators, the victim, his colleagues and his family. It was almost as gruesome as the crime.

Ron's parents lost their son and their well-earned middle class complacency. His wife was deprived not only of her husband, but of her privacy, and her dignity. His children were robbed of a father and served up a scandal as his legacy.

His friends and co-workers, shaken to the core, our innocence and belief in fair play gone forever, were hounded endlessly by reporters and photographers.

The men who did it were caught. There was a trial, all three convicted and sent to prison. I don't apologize for my bluntness: may they rot there, and in hell. 

At their trials, not one was repentant about their horrendous deed. They were openly proud of it. So in my mind, even 30+ years later, they don't deserve redemption.

Even if they did, it's too late. Nothing can restore the life they took. Or bring peace to his family. Hindsight is a luxury granted the living. It's meaningless to the dead. 

Heath Ledger made a horrible mistake which cost him his life. That too short life and the roles he played showed an actor of such talent, so much honestly and dedication in honing his craft, the loss of it seems like a crime. A sad end for such a rising star.

Ron's life, and his bright future, were stolen by violent, twisted killers with a sick perception of his lifestyle. They didn't see, know or care about the  dedicated, decent human being. The loving husband, father, brother, son, friend. 

They surely didn't know about the beauty of his spirit. And they can never steal that from those who did.

To Ron, Heath and all those gone too soon, may you rest in peace and light.

Full Disclosure: I wrote a post about Ron in July beta (when I make an edit in August, a glitch changed the date). I supplied a link to the post in November. Somehow it got buried. I hope the third time's the charm. It's a story that needs to be told. A lesson that still needs to be heeded. This isn't a repost, I've rewritten the story in light of current events and the Oscars.