*TRIGGERS WARNING*Memories of a gay man's suicide loom over Fremont Presbyterian Church
By Jennifer Garza, jgarza@sacbee.com
The Sacramento Bee, Published: Sunday, Jan. 1, 2012 - 12:00 am
On July 23, 1992, Thomas Paniccia, an Air Force sergeant, announced he was gay on national television. On the anniversary of that day 15 years later, Paniccia drove to an undeveloped cul-de-sac in Roseville several blocks from his home and waited to die.
Paniccia, 43, had swallowed an overdose of prescription pills and placed a three-page letter on his dashboard.
The Rev. Donald Baird, pastor of Fremont Presbyterian Church, was one of the people who received copies of the letter. Baird was his mentor, friend and pastor. Paniccia was employed at the church as outreach coordinator. The two men often talked about their faith as well as Paniccia's struggle with his sexuality.
"I want it to be known here and now that no one is to blame for what I've done," said a portion of Paniccia's letter, which was read at his memorial service. "This is my choice. Please, please don't blame anyone."
Fremont, the largest Presbyterian congregation in the Sacramento area, has faced the biggest crisis in its 129-year history: the decision to leave the national church. Fremont leaders believe the national church has strayed from biblical teachings, and they decided to break ties after the denomination approved the ordination of openly gay clergy.
During the debate and following that decision, some church members raised Paniccia's name. What about Tom, they asked. His death three years ago reminded them that the decision they made would affect people who called the church home.
Despite Paniccia's struggle, he had felt accepted. They didn't want that welcoming and inclusive environment to change.
Outside of a small circle, Paniccia's story has never been told, yet has weighed on many of those making decisions about the church's future. They remembered a gay man who loved his church.
"He wasn't open about it. It didn't matter anyway," said Donna Cavness, who was a friend and had worked with Paniccia. "He had a lot of wonderful gifts. He was good to be around."
Paniccia's close friends said he was conflicted about his faith and sexuality.
David Larson rented a room in his home to Paniccia and knew him for more than a decade. He also received a copy of Paniccia's suicide note.
"As a close personal friend, I unfortunately realized Tom's inability to accept being gay combined with his religious views is what I believe led to his suicide," Larson said.
Baird does not believe Paniccia's struggle to reconcile his faith with his sexuality drove him to suicide and said that Paniccia would support the church's decision to leave the national denomination.
Since the October vote, longtime members have left the congregation. As pastor, Baird has received hate mail. Church members may have to pay millions of dollars to the national church to keep the 5-acre church property across from California State University, Sacramento.
And next week, local Presbytery officials will call for an investigation of the Fremont vote to determine whether there are enough church members opposed to the split and who want to stay with the national denomination.
Still, Baird said Fremont must leave.
Following Christ is not supposed to be easy or convenient, he said. "If a church loses its integrity, it ceases to be a church," Baird said. "The world changes. God's word doesn't."
The pastor said Paniccia believed the same. He was committed to the teachings of his faith, Baird said. "Tom had the same beliefs, he understood."
He sat in his office looking at a photo of Paniccia in the church directory."He was like a son to me."
STELLAR AIR FORCE CAREER
It was an unlikely friendship - the Christian evangelist and the former gay activist. But the two men shared a common bond in faith.
Baird is reluctant to talk about Paniccia. His suicide is still painful for the pastor, his staff and Baird's family members.
Paniccia was hardworking and easygoing. "Tom told me that at Fremont he was truly accepted, comfortable and a valuable part of the family," James Baird, the pastor's son and Paniccia's friend, said in an email.
Paniccia joined the church in 2005 and became like a member of the Baird family. He spent holidays, birthdays and Sunday dinner at their Sacramento home. "When we were getting together as a family, he was there," Donald Baird said.
Paniccia joined the church staff as outreach coordinator in 2006.
"Tom came into church as someone looking for answers," Baird said. "He took it all in like a sponge."
The pastor knew Paniccia was attracted to men. "But I told him as long as he was celibate, I didn't care," he said. "We all have our struggles."
Donald Baird said he didn't know the extent of Paniccia's struggles or his past. According to news accounts, Paniccia served 11 years in the Air Force and received exemplary performance evaluations.
News stories about Paniccia said he was based in Tucson, Ariz., and specialized in overhauling training programs. He received multiple commendations. When he wasn't on the job, he played on the softball team and ran track. He organized base functions, volunteered in church and sent money to support foster children in Antigua and Bolivia.
"Think mom, apple pie, Chevrolet and Tom Paniccia," said Larson. "He was clean-cut and all-American."
And he was gay. In 1992, Paniccia came out on "Good Morning America" to challenge the military's "don't ask, don't tell" rule.
His military history and demeanor impressed many, including U.S. Sen. Barry Goldwater. Goldwater's family said the Arizona senator changed his mind about the military's policy after meeting Paniccia, according to the Washington Post, which quoted Goldwater as saying, "You don't have to be straight to shoot straight."
Paniccia was expelled from the military but eventually won the right to re-enlist, according to Larson.
Larson said Paniccia spoke out on gay rights and moved to the Bay Area, where he worked in the computer industry. After a few years, Paniccia was laid off and moved to Roseville. Shortly afterward, he started attending Fremont and rededicated his life to Christ, Larson said.
Donald Baird said Paniccia never brought up the details of his past, and the pastor learned about it at Paniccia's memorial service. "I didn't know," he said. "He was a really humble guy."
While Paniccia worked at Fremont, he would stop by the pastor's office to talk. They discussed celibacy, Scripture, and living as Christians. "He accepted celibacy," Donald Baird said.
The pastor believes homosexuality should be addressed with prayer and discipline. He said neither homosexuals nor heterosexuals should have sex outside of marriage. It is a sin for both, Baird said, and Paniccia shared those beliefs.
Larson, however, believes Paniccia was torn over his religious views and his sexuality.
"I do know Tom had a high level of appreciation for his involvement with the church," Larson said. "But the sad fact remains he was conflicted about his sexuality."
DIVINING DESPAIR
Are messages from the pulpit to blame for gay suicides?
In a survey released in October 2010, two out of three Americans said they believe gay people commit suicide at least partly because of messages coming out of churches and other places of worship, according to the Public Religion Research Institute.
No hard data exist on the role religion plays in these suicides, said Brent Childers, executive director at Faith in America, a national nonprofit that educates about religion-based intolerance.
"But we don't need a research study to understand the role religious teaching plays in these cases," Childers said. "How can it not have a debilitating effect when there's a religious and moral stamp of disapproval on someone's very being?"
Donald Baird and other Christians say their message is not hurtful. "The Gospel is a message of love," Baird said. "I'm not homophobic. I know people have this view that evangelicals hate gays, and that's not true. We don't. We hate sin, and we are all sinners."
In the weeks before Paniccia's death, those who knew him said he clearly was preoccupied.
He asked for an appointment to see Baird. When they spoke, he seemed unsettled and wanted to hear more about forgiveness, Baird said.
"Of course, a lot of us look back and wonder what we could have done differently," the minister said.
Baird believes media pressure drove Paniccia to take his own life. He said network TV had contacted Paniccia in the weeks leading up to his death about the upcoming anniversary of "don't ask, don't tell," and Paniccia was upset about it.
Baird believes that is why Paniccia took his life on the anniversary of the day he came out on national TV.
"He didn't want to relive that again," Baird said. "He had moved on, and they were determined to bring all that up."
Larson said Paniccia seemed more remote than usual, but he didn't know what his roommate was going through. He found out on that July night when the Roseville police came to his house to tell him they had found Paniccia in his car.
"I was in total shock," Larson said. "No one saw this coming."
Larson said being a good Christian was important to Paniccia, even "in the face of the contentious issue facing the church." He said he does not know how Paniccia would feel about the church's decision to leave the national denomination.
"I do know this," he said, " … what was most important to Tom is that people find a way to be happy."
© Copyright The Sacramento Bee. All rights reserved.
Call The Bee's Jennifer Garza, (916) 321-1133.
Read more here: http://www.sacbee.com/2012/01/01/4155627/memories-of-a-gay-mans-suicide.html#storylink=cpy
The Sacramento Bee, Published: Sunday, Jan. 1, 2012 - 12:00 am
On July 23, 1992, Thomas Paniccia, an Air Force sergeant, announced he was gay on national television. On the anniversary of that day 15 years later, Paniccia drove to an undeveloped cul-de-sac in Roseville several blocks from his home and waited to die.
Paniccia, 43, had swallowed an overdose of prescription pills and placed a three-page letter on his dashboard.
The Rev. Donald Baird, pastor of Fremont Presbyterian Church, was one of the people who received copies of the letter. Baird was his mentor, friend and pastor. Paniccia was employed at the church as outreach coordinator. The two men often talked about their faith as well as Paniccia's struggle with his sexuality.
"I want it to be known here and now that no one is to blame for what I've done," said a portion of Paniccia's letter, which was read at his memorial service. "This is my choice. Please, please don't blame anyone."
Fremont, the largest Presbyterian congregation in the Sacramento area, has faced the biggest crisis in its 129-year history: the decision to leave the national church. Fremont leaders believe the national church has strayed from biblical teachings, and they decided to break ties after the denomination approved the ordination of openly gay clergy.
During the debate and following that decision, some church members raised Paniccia's name. What about Tom, they asked. His death three years ago reminded them that the decision they made would affect people who called the church home.
Despite Paniccia's struggle, he had felt accepted. They didn't want that welcoming and inclusive environment to change.
Outside of a small circle, Paniccia's story has never been told, yet has weighed on many of those making decisions about the church's future. They remembered a gay man who loved his church.
"He wasn't open about it. It didn't matter anyway," said Donna Cavness, who was a friend and had worked with Paniccia. "He had a lot of wonderful gifts. He was good to be around."
Paniccia's close friends said he was conflicted about his faith and sexuality.
David Larson rented a room in his home to Paniccia and knew him for more than a decade. He also received a copy of Paniccia's suicide note.
"As a close personal friend, I unfortunately realized Tom's inability to accept being gay combined with his religious views is what I believe led to his suicide," Larson said.
Baird does not believe Paniccia's struggle to reconcile his faith with his sexuality drove him to suicide and said that Paniccia would support the church's decision to leave the national denomination.
Since the October vote, longtime members have left the congregation. As pastor, Baird has received hate mail. Church members may have to pay millions of dollars to the national church to keep the 5-acre church property across from California State University, Sacramento.
And next week, local Presbytery officials will call for an investigation of the Fremont vote to determine whether there are enough church members opposed to the split and who want to stay with the national denomination.
Still, Baird said Fremont must leave.
Following Christ is not supposed to be easy or convenient, he said. "If a church loses its integrity, it ceases to be a church," Baird said. "The world changes. God's word doesn't."
The pastor said Paniccia believed the same. He was committed to the teachings of his faith, Baird said. "Tom had the same beliefs, he understood."
He sat in his office looking at a photo of Paniccia in the church directory."He was like a son to me."
STELLAR AIR FORCE CAREER
It was an unlikely friendship - the Christian evangelist and the former gay activist. But the two men shared a common bond in faith.
Baird is reluctant to talk about Paniccia. His suicide is still painful for the pastor, his staff and Baird's family members.
Paniccia was hardworking and easygoing. "Tom told me that at Fremont he was truly accepted, comfortable and a valuable part of the family," James Baird, the pastor's son and Paniccia's friend, said in an email.
Paniccia joined the church in 2005 and became like a member of the Baird family. He spent holidays, birthdays and Sunday dinner at their Sacramento home. "When we were getting together as a family, he was there," Donald Baird said.
Paniccia joined the church staff as outreach coordinator in 2006.
"Tom came into church as someone looking for answers," Baird said. "He took it all in like a sponge."
The pastor knew Paniccia was attracted to men. "But I told him as long as he was celibate, I didn't care," he said. "We all have our struggles."
Donald Baird said he didn't know the extent of Paniccia's struggles or his past. According to news accounts, Paniccia served 11 years in the Air Force and received exemplary performance evaluations.
News stories about Paniccia said he was based in Tucson, Ariz., and specialized in overhauling training programs. He received multiple commendations. When he wasn't on the job, he played on the softball team and ran track. He organized base functions, volunteered in church and sent money to support foster children in Antigua and Bolivia.
"Think mom, apple pie, Chevrolet and Tom Paniccia," said Larson. "He was clean-cut and all-American."
And he was gay. In 1992, Paniccia came out on "Good Morning America" to challenge the military's "don't ask, don't tell" rule.
His military history and demeanor impressed many, including U.S. Sen. Barry Goldwater. Goldwater's family said the Arizona senator changed his mind about the military's policy after meeting Paniccia, according to the Washington Post, which quoted Goldwater as saying, "You don't have to be straight to shoot straight."
Paniccia was expelled from the military but eventually won the right to re-enlist, according to Larson.
Larson said Paniccia spoke out on gay rights and moved to the Bay Area, where he worked in the computer industry. After a few years, Paniccia was laid off and moved to Roseville. Shortly afterward, he started attending Fremont and rededicated his life to Christ, Larson said.
Donald Baird said Paniccia never brought up the details of his past, and the pastor learned about it at Paniccia's memorial service. "I didn't know," he said. "He was a really humble guy."
While Paniccia worked at Fremont, he would stop by the pastor's office to talk. They discussed celibacy, Scripture, and living as Christians. "He accepted celibacy," Donald Baird said.
The pastor believes homosexuality should be addressed with prayer and discipline. He said neither homosexuals nor heterosexuals should have sex outside of marriage. It is a sin for both, Baird said, and Paniccia shared those beliefs.
Larson, however, believes Paniccia was torn over his religious views and his sexuality.
"I do know Tom had a high level of appreciation for his involvement with the church," Larson said. "But the sad fact remains he was conflicted about his sexuality."
DIVINING DESPAIR
Are messages from the pulpit to blame for gay suicides?
In a survey released in October 2010, two out of three Americans said they believe gay people commit suicide at least partly because of messages coming out of churches and other places of worship, according to the Public Religion Research Institute.
No hard data exist on the role religion plays in these suicides, said Brent Childers, executive director at Faith in America, a national nonprofit that educates about religion-based intolerance.
"But we don't need a research study to understand the role religious teaching plays in these cases," Childers said. "How can it not have a debilitating effect when there's a religious and moral stamp of disapproval on someone's very being?"
Donald Baird and other Christians say their message is not hurtful. "The Gospel is a message of love," Baird said. "I'm not homophobic. I know people have this view that evangelicals hate gays, and that's not true. We don't. We hate sin, and we are all sinners."
In the weeks before Paniccia's death, those who knew him said he clearly was preoccupied.
He asked for an appointment to see Baird. When they spoke, he seemed unsettled and wanted to hear more about forgiveness, Baird said.
"Of course, a lot of us look back and wonder what we could have done differently," the minister said.
Baird believes media pressure drove Paniccia to take his own life. He said network TV had contacted Paniccia in the weeks leading up to his death about the upcoming anniversary of "don't ask, don't tell," and Paniccia was upset about it.
Baird believes that is why Paniccia took his life on the anniversary of the day he came out on national TV.
"He didn't want to relive that again," Baird said. "He had moved on, and they were determined to bring all that up."
Larson said Paniccia seemed more remote than usual, but he didn't know what his roommate was going through. He found out on that July night when the Roseville police came to his house to tell him they had found Paniccia in his car.
"I was in total shock," Larson said. "No one saw this coming."
Larson said being a good Christian was important to Paniccia, even "in the face of the contentious issue facing the church." He said he does not know how Paniccia would feel about the church's decision to leave the national denomination.
"I do know this," he said, " … what was most important to Tom is that people find a way to be happy."
© Copyright The Sacramento Bee. All rights reserved.
Call The Bee's Jennifer Garza, (916) 321-1133.
Read more here: http://www.sacbee.com/2012/01/01/4155627/memories-of-a-gay-mans-suicide.html#storylink=cpy