Be Travels On, A celebration of Life and Death Mountaine

Be Travels On A celebration of Life and Death By Mountaine

Be, a/k/a William Byron Whiting II, a/k/a Bundle Be, was born on March 21, 1929 in Delevan, NY, and took his last breath at the age of 90 on October 13, 2019 in Liberty, TN.

Be was many things to many people. He was an unmissable presence at Short Mountain gatherings starting in 1980.

He was the ultimate drag queen—his outfits were unique and often over-the-top in their fabulosity, and at 6’2” he and they were very visible! (Unlike many aging folks, he didn’t seem to lose any of his height over the years.)

He immersed himself in gratitude for all the gifts showered on him in his life.

His sunny personality and charismatic style were legendary.

He often told new Faeries about the difference between clapping one’s hands (indicating approval or—heaven forfend—obligation!), and hissing (in solidarity).

He once said, “I never met a dick I didn’t like!” And he got to like a lot of them!

Sister Soami (“Mish”) was editor of this magazine for many years, and remembers Be as “the best proofreader RFD ever had,” able to read the entire issue in twenty four hours and return it with important corrections.

He was known to express his views strongly in public from time to time. When he shouted, “Focus, people!” or “Shut up!” his words were heard across the land.

He was the revered “bundle keeper” for the Tennessee Naraya / Dance for all People, and was very serious about his ceremonial role of keeping peoples’ prayers alive and vibrant.

Be was a highly skilled actor, director, and puppeteer. From 1964-1974, he was a member of the famous Bil Baird Marionette Theater, based in New York City. He performed with the Bairds in their huge show in the Chrysler pavilion at the 1964/65 New York World’s Fair, toured with them for ten years, and joined them frequently on television, including a Muppet Christmas special, and their enactment of the landing on the moon.

In later years, Be loved to regale listeners with his fabulous memory of the opening night of the Bairds’ Wizard of Oz puppet show. Be had already played the Wicked Witch onstage, so he was the puppeteer chosen for that role. It turned out that Margaret Hamilton (the iconic wicked witch in the original movie) was in the audience. She sought him out after the show, and said, “Your witch was just marvelous. The torch is passed!” In telling the story, Be said, “I’ve lived on that, as almost all my friends can tell you, for the rest of my life. Actors don’t get that kind of accolade all that often!”

In 1974 Be moved to Virginia Beach with his then-partner Henry, to be more involved in the spiritual work of Edgar Cayce. He was also active in professional theater there, and played many lead roles, including Lady Bracknell in Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest, and Malvolio in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Then in 1998 he relocated to middle Tennessee to be near his Faerie community.

In 2005 he attended the first Tennessee Naraya/ Dance for all People, and those ceremonies led by native elders became a huge part of his life up to the end. For many years, until his health begin declining in 2018, he drove across the country every year to attend these events in Utah, Montana, at Wolf Creek in Oregon, and other places. To enjoy his long-distance driving, he praised the combination of frequent coffee and marijuana!

Not many years ago, Be reconnected with his best friend Bill from childhood. When they found each other online, they hadn’t been in touch since high school. Be loved telling the story of his first visit back to the Buffalo area to see Bill again. They were taking a drive, revisiting memories of places they’d gone together as youths, when Bill asked, “Do you remember what we used to do when we pulled the car over?” Be certainly did! And Bill continued, “Do you think we could do something like that again?” Be eagerly agreed. His gorgeous blue eyes would light up when speaking of Bill as his “boyfriend.” Since around 2012, Be didn’t make it to most SMS Beltaine gatherings, because Bill’s birthday was May 1 st , and Be preferred to drive twelve hours each way from Tennessee and spend the gathering week with him!

In 2015, at age 86, I got to travel with Be, celebrating his first-ever trip to Europe. He told me (and the many friends who helped to pay for his trip) that

ever since the age of twenty he’d dreamt of being in England and returning on an ocean liner. So it was a really big deal, and fun in so many ways! He was an ideal travel companion, whether gawking at the Mona Lisa, taking in ballet and concerts, seeing Judy Dench and Kenneth Branagh in Shakespeare, meeting up with Faeries in Paris and London, or eating magnificent food. To complete his dream, we returned on the Queen Mary II ocean liner, a sevenday immersion in luxury.

In reviewing the cruise ship itinerary, I saw that there was to be a masquerade ball one evening. I mentioned it to Be months in advance, and suggested that if he wanted to bring one of his ball gowns, I’d be his tuxedo-clad escort. Of course, he readily agreed. And what fun we had, appearing in the vast dining room at the top of the grand staircase, gliding arm-in-arm to our table, astonishing the ladies who were our nightly dinner companions, dancing together to a live jazz band, and then proudly winning a costume award.

Be’s health had a resurgence for his fabulous 90 th birthday celebrations, for a four-day trip to New York the same month, and for Short Mountain Sanctuary’s Beltaine 2019, where he again demonstrated the power of his flamboyant spirit at the Mayday ritual, calling in “Grandfather Sky.” He also made his final stage appearance at that gathering—in a fabulous cameo as Southern Belle Eve, one of the Seven Dream Eves in the powerful Faerie production of Paradise Lost in Space. His big line, delivered in an exquisite Southern drawl, was: “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

The following month, his seizures started. By late summer he was in a nursing home.

When his doctor put him on anti-seizure meds, and said that cannabis would interfere with its effects, Be was very sad that he’d never be able to smoke weed again. Then, six weeks later, a few hours after his death in the home of a dear friend, some members of his (very fabulous and dedicated) care team smoked a joint, and one of us blew the smoke into his mouth. Picture that, and make up your own story about how he treasured the gift!

A few days earlier, on increasing doses of morphine, Be had been less and less verbal, sinking into himself. But at one point he sat up suddenly, and with the clearly enunciated and well-projected voice we knew so well, spoke three words: “Grace under Pressure.” That was his final statement (at least while in his body) on how to savor this beautiful human life. It was a most gracious ending to the life of one of the most gracious people I have ever known.

From about 2009-2012, Be worked on documenting his life through a series of performances titled “Be Live,” and interviews with Jacqalin Maple Keeling (known then as Free). The notes from these projects allow for the reconstruction of his life story, in his own words, in great detail. Here’s an (edited) example from the period when he lived in Virginia Beach:

“In 1980 I got involved with the UUGC, the Unitarian Universalist Gay Community. At their Fourth Annual Gay and Lesbian conference on Memorial Day weekend, the keynote speaker was Harry Hay. His speech was about faeries—how faeries are born, not made—and about the respect we deserve as human beings with special gifts. I will never forget the final line to his talk. He said: The Day will come, though I may not live to see it, when a faerie child is born into a family (and make no mistake, they always know by age six or seven, or often earlier) and the reaction will be ‘Gasp! One of those!!!’ Not ‘Ew. One of those.’”

“I also attended a workshop (with two of my friends) that Harry gave on subjectsubject consciousness, the whole idea of treating people as subjects, not as objects. Harry invited us to go to Colorado in August for the Second Annual Gathering for Radical Faeries. And we decided to go. I was working as a social worker at the time, back to my college major, and I got the time off. (One does have to eat, and the theatre scene in Virginia Beach did not pay all that well.) I had a ‘64 Ford Falcon at the time. The three of us piled in the car and traveled to Colorado. The trip there was an adventure in itself. But when we got there, it was mind-blowing: 325 or 350 people from all over the world, talking about their lives. There were a lot of Faeries there, and I realized I was one of them! So that began my career as a Faerie. The next year, in 1981, Short Mountain held its first spring gathering, and I decided I really needed to go. I’ve been going to the Mountain twice a year ever since. I’ve missed a few through the years, but not many.”