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Tribute by Sandra L. Thurman, President and CEO, International AIDS Trust
Edna St. Vincent Millay wrote in her poem entitled First Fig:
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my friends and oh, my foes
It gives a lovely light!
I can’t think of a more fitting way to describe Keith Cylar.
His candle did indeed burn at both ends…and was a light in the
darkness to countless individuals whose lives he touched….those
who knew him….and those who never knew his name but were touched
by the brightness of his indomitable spirit. Of course, then
there were those individuals who simply felt the heat of the
fire that Keith had so ably lit under their backsides. Nothing
gave him greater pleasure than that. And nothing gave many of
us greater pleasure than watching him strike the match, except
when we found ourselves in flames!
Who else could get away with chaining himself to my desk at
the White House and all I could say was “Hey, Honey, will you
help me empty the inbox while you are here?” “Of course,” he
said, “Yes, Honey!” and after the Secret Service started moving
everybody out of the office, he leaned over and whispered “meet
me at the Hay Adams for a drink,” and drink we did….until dawn!
As a social worker, an activist and an advocate, Keith brought
a passion and brilliance to his work that is unparalleled in
the AIDS community. His willingness to vigorously challenge
those with whom he did not agree was matched only by his willingness
to stay at the table until the needs of those who had no seat
at the table had been heard. Keith was truly an archangel for
the members of the community that most would consider the least
among us. He would surely disagree. The least among us, he would
argue, are those who are in positions of power who could make
a difference….and do not.
Rudyard Kipling wrote in his poem IF:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling
Keith was a beautiful man. He was an extraordinary human being.
He will be severely missed, but never, never forgotten! |
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