Joe Ferguson lived across the hall from me during my first semester at the University of Southern Mississippi.  I became great friends with him and his roommate, Kendall Turnage.  Kendall was dating a lovely young lady named Nona Hughes and the four of us were nearly inseparable that first year.  Even after I moved out of the dorm, we still hung out together.  Joe was a year ahead of the rest of us, so he left before we did but we stayed in touch.  When I joined the Air Force and moved back to Biloxi, Joe came by to visit after buying his new car, a 1988 Honda Civic (which he kept until the end).  We had dinner and then hung out and talked.  He was living in Washington DC and working for National Geographic.  Joe had been a Geography major (in undergrad and graduate school) and loved what he did.  He told me about his life in D.C., and that he did Meals on Wheels for AIDS patients, and about his friends (especially Ed Kaczmarek).  I told him about life in the Air Force and at one point we just looked at each other and essentially said, "Can we just say it?  We're gay."  Joe was one of the first people I outted myself to, and it was such a good feeling.

Joe and his friend, John

Joe and I stayed in touch, despite both being very busy.  Breck and I went and stayed with him in DC, ran into him in Rehobeth and saw him whenever we were in DC.  I also got see him when we both went to Memorial Day in Pensacola a few times.  He came to Chicago, too.  The last time I saw him, he was here with some friends and we all went out to dinner.

Joe was on American Airlines Flight #77 on September 11, 2001.  He and his boss were escorting a group of young students who had won a geography contest on an excursion to the Channel Islands.  I found out that he was on the plane when my friend, Van Loftin, called me the Thursday after 9/11.  He'd called me late on Wednesday night after I'd already gone to sleep and left a message to call him.  I got the message at 5am and thought how odd it was that he had called so late.  I went to the gym, figuring I'd call him after my workout because I did not want to call so early.  As I walked in the door, the phone was ringing and I saw it was Van.  I knew something bad had happened for him to be so persistent.  He told me that he had seen Joe's picture on the Jackson, MS news (Joe was from Durant, north of Jackson) as one of the people killed on the plane that hit the Pentagon.  I told him I had to go and walked into our room where Hal had just gotten out of the shower.  I told him what had happened and I broke down and cried.

I had not talked to Joe for about six months.  I figured he'd always be there when I called.  I try not to make that mistake anymore.

Joe and me in Pensacola