The Inbetweeners
Or, a tribute to Charles Glaser
Cris’s friend Charlie passed away yesterday. He was what my therapist refers to as an “inbetweener.” Someone the system forgot about. When I asked Cris if any family should be notified he said no. A few months back, Charlie and Cris had searched for relatives on Google and didn’t find any. I keep thinking about how it must have felt to search for family and find no one.
Cris was a good friend to Charlie. They loved each other in their own way. They were on a family phone plan together at one point. Cris would take him grocery shopping, buy him cigarettes, help him clean his apartment, empty his colostomy bag, and treated him with a kindness that most people wouldn’t.
Charlie’s past was complicated. He was born and raised in New York City. He spent years in prison for robbery. He contracted HIV from a blood transfusion in the 80s. He claimed to have found a cure for his HIV (and was undetectable for 20+ years). He smoked like a chimney, even during his final days. He had a mean streak. He was flawed and human.
A few months ago, Cris came home crying after visiting Charlie. He said Charlie was lying in bed, covered in his own filth, and screamed, “Cris get the fuck out of here! Just let me die!”
Cris wouldn’t let him die. He called one of his social workers. An ambulance came and brought him to the hospital. A service came in to clean his apartment. He got a new nurse. He still wanted to die.
A week or so ago, Charlie had a stroke. I still thought he would pull through. I asked Cris to invite him to Thanksgiving at his restaurant, and we joked about how he would probably boss Cris around even when he was working.
Cris last saw Charlie three days ago, when he called and asked him to drop off cigarettes. Charlie died Saturday, November 19th. He was alone. All of the inbetweeners have died alone. Dennis from a heart attack. Dino from a concussion. Charlie from a multitude of illnesses. They had been failed by the system in life and continue to be failed by it in death. Like the other inbetweeners, there won’t be an obituary or a funeral or even a proper burial or cremation.
But they mattered. Even if it was just to a handful of people, they mattered. We will grieve Charlie. Like we grieved Dennis and like we grieved Dino. We’ll light a candle for him. Say a prayer. And we’ll keep extending kindness to people, regardless of their past or present circumstances.
I am endlessly fascinated by Charlie. He was proud of his rap sheet. Cris has hours of audio of him telling his life story. I will keep sharing his story, so if one day any of his relatives go searching for family, they’ll at least know he existed.
I’ll end with my favorite anecdote that sums up the man who was Charles Glaser.
A few months ago, Charlie asked Cris to go to Aldi’s with him. He enlisted Cris to help him with the rolling Igloo cooler and used his food stamps to buy a ridiculous amount of meat. On the way back to his apartment, Cris rolling the Igloo cooler, Charlie called out “chopped meat, chopped meat, buy your chopped meat.” Cris compared him to a carnival barker the way people gathered around. And goddamn, he sold it all.
