Clay

Clay was a generous, candid kid with a boisterous laugh. In high school, however, most viewed him simply as a chubby, acne-faced kid with a bad haircut. He lived in the poor part of north Des Moines, but for some reason he and his siblings transferred to my school my sophomore or junior year. Clay and I were the only males in our grade in band; he played trombone. I guess that’s how we met and why we hung out.

Clay had a brother a year or two younger and another half-brother and half-sister who were very young; around Kindergarten and first grade age. They all lived in a little shack with only their mother, and it was obvious Clay was very active in helping raise the youngsters. He got them dressed, packed their bags and drove them to school each morning in a beat-up old station wagon. Despite the obvious stressors in his life, Clay was a jovial, easy-going guy with a wry sense of humor. I was impressed with his astute understanding that nothing in high school was important enough to worry about.

Clay would often spend the weekends when the kids were with their father at my place, which made him my only friend that ever stayed over at that time in my life. He always brought with him videos that we watched marathon-style. As an enthusiast of campy b-movies and anime, Clay single-handedly introduced me to the anime, Godzilla, vampire and kung fu genres. I cannot begin to extol my gratitude for this gift from Clay. He made me aware of whole worlds of cinema that had a humor and honesty that I could appreciate and relate to, and instigated my hunger for perspectives through films beyond Hollywood.

I never kept in touch with Clay. Hope he’s doing well.