On my last day, an older, Catholic lady who I had made friends with came to pray over me. It was near the end of the day and she handed me one of her favorite Bible books, gave me a vile of holy water and started to pray for me.
Despite a customer waiting to get checked out, I couldn’t help but start to openly weep.
I could not help myself.
Perhaps the reason is because I had done many things in Boston. Many things I considered to be good things. And this was the end of those things.
Let me show you what I mean.
In 2000, I moved to Boston and opened a branch of the Other Music record store.
Other Music was one of the most preeminent record stores in the world. Some might say it was the best record store in the world. I mean, when the original New York City location closed, they made a whole documentary about it.
In 2004, I started a nightly showcase of local talent called Make It New. It would go on to become one of the most celebrated and respected parties in the entire world—eventually people would perform at it that I could have never imagined would play it.
In 2007, I led an effort to make a documentary film about dance music (or, really, just modern computer-driven music). The film was partially an effort to draw attention to the incredible Boston talent pool. (The movie, to my dismay, would turn into something different.)
Soon after becoming the music scenes pre-eminent party photographer, I used my newly-gained centralized power as a local music editor to unite many different underground scenes and create one gigantic city-wide music festival.
Many of the remnants from those times have sadly been deleted forever by my Marxist enemies, but here’s a video of myself and the Thug Mayor introducing the start of the 2014 edition (coincidentally, my favorite edition—and no he did not break my kneecaps later).
That would lead to the creation of a music school in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Before it was consumed and destroyed by Marxist ideology (in our final year, we would have a class exclusively for transgender children), we would graduate up to 500 (or more?) people in the skills and tools to mix and make music.
It was a very special place. Here’s a news story about it:
But perhaps what made me sob the most was the loss of memories like this:
In 2015, we were offered resources and time from the City of Boston (amazingly), so we created the Donna Summer Memorial Roller Disco party.
This “Celebration of Summer” was not only a disco-themed tribute to Boston’s own Donna Summer (and held during the summer solstice); but it brought artists to create themed pieces, a portable roller rink (!!), Boston’s world famous DJ Kon…
I even paid for some of my gay friends to buy (and dress in) pieces from Donna’s notorious fashion shoots.
Watching the footage now, it almost seems like a dream.
It was surely the hand of God that created it.
(Donna herself was a devout Christian woman, and I can tell you with emphasis that the Spirit of the Lord had come down that day. It was moving in and through everyone—whether they knew it or not.)
I have many stories from that day (many of which brought tears to my eyes), but the one thing DJ Kon said to me pretty much says it all:
“David, I have to tell you, I would never have dreamed of these neighborhoods all getting together in one place. I never could have imagined anything like this in Boston.”
And he was right. Because it was free and open to the public: Every type of human was there.
It was and will always be, the most diverse gathering of people I have ever been a witness to. Black, white, brown, gay, straight, the very young and the very old—at one point I saw a dance circle form to lift a person in a motorized wheelchair in the air.
So sure, I couldn’t help but be sad that all this was coming to an end.
Fortunately thanks to God and my family, I was provided an exit window towards a much better place. A place where men were still men, where there’s a church on every street corner, and, most importantly, a world that has not gone totally insane. Some even call it TulsaRusalem.
I would, quite literally, be saved by grace.