It’s probably pretty safe to say that most people say the moment that they realized the world was full of hatred took place on September 11, 2001. It was the first time they personally witnessed that there are people in the world who wish us harm or death based solely on our identification as Americans.

That moment of realization came for me in October three years earlier.

I had not been in California very long and was still wide-eyed at the acceptance of homosexuality in daily life. I had been fired for being gay in Missouri, and warned that my “lifestyle” was going to prevent me from being a recording artist in Nashville. I had been to gay bars where the only entrance was in the back alley.

I had heard mostly anecdotal stories of gay bashings and the occasional five second news item or inch-long column in the paper. I had seen Torch Song Trilogy. I knew that people occasionally died at the hands of ignorant homophobes, but it had never really registered.

On October 7, 1998, two young men lured a slight, unassuming, effeminate man named Matthew Shepard from a bar with promises of a good time. Instead of a sweaty session with a happy ending, the two men tied Matthew to a split-rail fence post, tortured, abused, pistol-whipped and beat him nearly to death.

He remained tied up to that isolated fence, alone, barely alive for over 18 hours before a passing bicyclist discovered him. The bicyclist initially thought Matthew’s body was a scarecrow.

Matthew suffered from a skull fracture that caused a brain stem injury. He never regained consciousness and died on October 12.

Perhaps because I now lived in California where gay interest stories are more likely to receive attention, or perhaps because of the viciousness of the attack, there was no escaping this news story. There was no escaping the fact that Matthew was only a year younger than myself.

I was making a trip to Nashville that Halloween weekend and found myself with several hours to kill before catching my plane. I headed into the Castro and found myself in the middle of a candle light memorial service to Matthew. There were flowers everywhere. Cards and stuffed animals and photos and postcards were set up in a makeshift shrine at the park on the corner of Noe and Market. Scores of people were crying and singing and solemnly reading the notes attached to the fence.

I had to leave before all the guest speakers and the program began. I found myself crying on the plane and it took several hours of being around Matt before I could shake the melancholy.

After the attackers were found guilty, Matthew’s parents, Dennis and Judy, persuaded the court to show leniency and not impose the death penalty. Dennis’ speech in court was heartwrenching.

I just happened to be in San Francisco the day the Matthew Shepard Memorial Triangle was dedicated. I got the opportunity to hear Judy Shepard speak. The mere thought of the dedication and purpose that she has gained in the aftermath of her son’s death still moves me to my core. She has spoken at nearly ever major gay rights gathering. She is instrumental in helping schools establish Gay-Straight Alliances. She has spoken to congress and met with political leaders.

And now she is spearheading a campaign to pass a Federal Anti-Hate Crime Bill.

The Local Law Enforcement Hate Crimes Prevention Act of 2007 (LLEHCPA) is an appropriate and measured response to the unrelenting and under-addressed problem of violent hate crimes committed against individuals based on actual or perceived sexual orientation, gender, gender identity and disability. All people regardless of their race, color, religion, national origin, gender, sexual orientation, gender identity or ability deserve to be free from violence and crimes committed because of hatred and bias.

Please take a moment and sign the petition showing your support for this important bill.

Hear “Scarecrow” by Melissa Etheridge, a song about Shepard’s death that still causes me to tear up.

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