Article on Clewer's family commitment to solving this crime:
Date: Thursday, June 23, 2005
Edition: RedEye
Page: 2
Source: Kathryn Masterson.
DEVOTION LIVES ON ---- IN LIFE AN DEATH
It's so incredibly unfair that Jim Clewer and Pam Cunningham won't be marching in the Pride Parade this Sunday.
Last year was the first Pride for both, though it was hardly a celebration.
Jim, Pam and other family members were there in the hopes that someone could help them solve the murder of their 31-year-old son Kevin, who was stabbed to death a few months before in his Boystown home.
Now, Pam and Jim are both gone. Pam, a 56-year-old antiques shop owner, died unexpectedly in April. A month later, as the family was still dealing with the shock of her death, Jim had a heart attack at work. He was 56 too. They left behind another son, a wife, a boyfriend and a community of people touched by the love and determination they showed for their family.
By now, most people have learned that life isn't fair. Bad things happen to good people. Split-second accidents can be fatal, terrible things are done to children, and innocent people are hurt or killed. But the sudden loss of these two people--the two deaths coming so close together after such a brutal, unsolved crime had already devastated the family--is moving in a deeper way.
Jim and Pam were relentless, obsessive even, in the search for answers to who killed their son. It was almost impossible to go to an event in the gay community--Pride, Northalsted Market Days, anti-violence vigils--without seeing them in their matching white T-shirts with a picture of Kevin on the front. Along with their son Ron, they canvassed the neighborhood for any leads or scraps of information, putting fliers in storefronts and on car windshields.
They cried at memorials, describing their "hell on Earth," and they railed against an anonymous killer and vowed they would find him one day. Jim stopped people with his soft-spoken and heartbreaking introduction: "Hello, my name is Jim Clewer. My son was murdered down here."
But their story isn't just a tragedy.
It's a story about standing up for your family and accepting them for who they are, even if you don't always understand them.
Rick Garcia, of gay rights group Equality Illinois, wiped away tears as he described the impact Jim and Pam's devotion and tenacity had on Chicago's gay community.
"I think they showed gay people there are loving parents who will go to their dying days for their children," Garcia said. "I think they showed all parents in Illinois what it means to love your kids."
Every time Pam and Jim talked in public about Kevin's death, they included a message for parents of gay children: Love them for who they are. Be happy when they're happy.
Pam, who hugged everyone she met, was incredulous that parents could abandon their children because of their sexual orientation. In her mind, that treatment was the same as killing your child.
Jim, a handyman who fixed cars for a living and joked that, unlike his sons, he couldn't cook, admitted to people that he struggled at first to understand Kevin's sexuality. "Kev, why can't you just like women," he said he asked Kevin. The response, "Dad, why can't you start dating guys?" caused something to click in his mind. From then on, he viewed his son's sexuality as fixed as his own.
After Pam and Jim died, their son Ron heard from a number of people who had been touched by his family. Community leaders, police, store owners and others reached out to say how sorry they were. Many said they couldn't believe Jim and Pam were gone. Some told Ron he needed to keep fighting to find an answer to his brother's death.
"In a way, I'm really proud of my parents," Ron said. "They really impacted people beyond our immediate family."
If you're at the parade this Sunday, keep an eye out for Ron, Jim's wife Marilyn and their supporters in matching white T-shirts with a picture of Kevin on the front. They'll be passing out postcards and fliers, keeping alive Jim's and Pam's fight for their son.