Herb McConnell
I met Matt at a nightclub in Charleston, SC one balmy summer night in 1997. I was staying in the attic of one of the old historic homes there. The night I met him we danced, drank beer, and smoked cigarettes. The new Celine Dion song was playing that night, and Matt couldn’t exactly cut a rug so we ended up doing more talking than dancing. I liked him and invited him over for some Southern Comfort. I didn’t know then that he would become one of the great loves of my life. When I found out he was dead I was trying to look him up. I’ve always loved Matt in my own way and I was hoping to see that wonderful face laugh one more time while sipping whiskey, three and three fingers, you know, and I hoped he quit smoking by then. But that didn’t happen… I miss Matt dearly, and I hope he rests in the peace he couldn’t find here.
Herbert W. McConnell III
Herbert W. McConnell III
