The kindness of strangers: drunk, alone and lost, a legendary drag queen helped me get home safe
On my first night out, I went to a popular gay club night and got stupendously drunk. The university halls were only a five-minute walk away, but I was alone. Around 2am, I found myself propped against a wall outside a takeaway, unable to remember how to get back to my bed.
Spotting me in trouble, Nana, who was lovingly known as the oldest drag queen in Manchester, came up to me and asked: ''Are you OK, chicken?'
Nana was a Manchester institution. She had campaigned a lot during the HIV/Aids crisis in the 1980s and 90s. In the 2000s she'd often show up late at night to hand ice blocks out to drunk young partiers to help sober them up. She'd say: 'Here's something to suck on, boys,' which made everyone laugh.
I told Nana I lived at the university, but that I'd just moved here and didn't know where I was going. Without hesitation, she replied: 'Come on love, let's get you home.'
Nana escorted me back, got me safely into my room, tucked me into bed and saw herself out. All of this, dressed in drag. Her parting words were: 'Nana loves you – now be careful.'
Looking back now, I can see how much of a vulnerable situation I had put myself in, as an 18-year-old in an unfamiliar environment. But Nana, who was probably in her early 60s at that point, took me under her wing. She got me home safely then just disappeared, like a gay fairy godmother.
Nana died about three years ago. Canal Street, the gay strip in Manchester, effectively went into mourning. Nana had touched so many lives but it wasn't until after she passed and we all started trading stories of what Nana had done for us that we realised how wonderful she really was. For years there had been this fabulous person in the background who was looking after her community but not expecting any thanks for it. Vale Nana.
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