The Josh Kruger I knew and liked

I come to praise Josh Kruger, not to bury him. 

I can tell you how our friendship began, and where it ended.

It began about 15 years ago when I started seeing the work of a new, young, radical freelancer in pubs like the City Paper, Philadelphia Weekly and the Inquirer and Philadelphia magazine.j

He had a unique voice and tackled topics that I never experienced — drug addiction, alcoholism, AIDS, homelessness, prostitution, being queer.

I had done none of that. He had done all of that.

It was the spring and I invited him to meet me for after-work drinks at Vintage, on 13th Street. I was curious about this compelling new voice.

When I ordered wine and he ordered fizzy water, I asked why, and he told me he was a recovering alcoholic.

I did not know that, and apologized for choosing a bar, rather than a restaurant. Josh brushed it off, saying it was his problem, and he knew how to handle it.

He told me a lot more at that sit down, what I have revealed above, and I was nearly shocked, at least the parts about being HIV-positive and having been a male prostitute to support himself. He could write about life in the bottom of the garbage can that he had lived, while I had only observed.

He wrote very well with sympathy for the underdog, and using a cross of academic and sociological terms. He was very well read, and was the voice of the voiceless.

The first time I heard the word “cisgender,” it came from his mouth, and I had to look it up. It came right outta academia, just a Sunday-going-to-meeting word meaning sexually straight (because we can’t use words like “normal” or “typical” any more.)

He had a number of radical, Marxist ideas sprouting from his experience, and fixes that only the young could imagine as workable.

I thought him naive, he thought me curmudgeonly, at twice his age, but we got along.

He later told me he was thrilled when I reached out for him because I was a Big Name, with a Big Job, in journalism, while he was a nobody.

I told him I didn’t think of myself as a Big Deal, and I certainly regarded nobody as nobody. I told him I liked his style, his narrative, and his sharp wit. A conversation with him was like dueling with rapiers. I shared some advice as to what direction would help his career.

I toasted him — he still didn’t drink — when he was hired by Mayor Jim Kenney to handle his social media. I joked: “You’ve had your head up his ass so long (in free lance writing pieces) he owes you a job.” It might have been his first full-time, paid job as an adult.

Josh laughed, knowing Kenney and I — once good friends — had a falling out over his Sanctuary City policy, which he called me racist for not supporting.

Josh and I were close enough that I asked him to help me load a truck as I was quietly shipping a soon-to-be ex-wife out of my life.

He was pretty far left, I was pretty centrist, but we remained friends.

I remember one discussion over Medicare for all, which Bernie Sanders always describes (in his Brooklyn accent) as “a hooman right.”

There is no such right in the U.S. Constitution.

It is in the UN Declaration of Rights, Josh said.

Who cares?, I replied. That has no weight in the U.S.

If there’s a right to free healthcare, I asked, hoping to squeeze him into a corner, why not free housing, food, and clothing? Are you for that?

Yes, he said, simply and sincerely.

Well, I countered, if you ever got a full-time job and you had to pay for all that, you might feel differently.

Actually, he probably wouldn’t. Josh wasn’t a hypocrite.

Once he started to work for Kenney, our friendship cooled, particularly when Josh had to defend some very stupid moves by Kenney, many of which Josh supported. 

As I heard it, he got sick of Kenney and moved over to the city’s homeless office — a good fit for a guy who was once homeless.

We were on separate tracks, although still Facebook friends.

He posted too much about his cat, Mason, and eating too many tacos, but I was very glad when he reported he had bought his first home — thanks to full-time employment — whicn turned into his last home at 39.

We have a falling out about a year ago.

About two years ago, the very able Jenny DeHuff (a former colleague of mine at the Daily News) asked if I’d like to be a contributor to Philadelphia Weekly, which she edited and was going to transform from a liberal to a conservative POV.

I am not a conservative, but some middle-lane reporting I had done on my blog sounded like that.

So — sure.

I am proud of two major stories — one detailing how D.A. Larry Kramer used a bait and switch strategy to blame Municipal Court for his failures,  and another detailing how Philly cops were quitting in droves, long before cops quitting became a national story. 

The facts behind the Philly cops quitting was offered to me after it was turned down by the woke Inquirer, which I believe to be generally anti-cop. 

Neither of those stories were “conservative,” just not “right” for the Inquirer, which had forced me into retirement a couple of years earlier. 

After about a year, the Weekly was sold, Jenny DeHuff had left, Josh was hired as the new editor, and a new editorial direction was announced. 

Josh foolishly and wrongly bad-mouthed the previous stuff as pro-Trump — it was not — and announced he was going to turn it into an arts magazine, something unnecessay, in my opinion.

I waited for the call from the new editor, who once thought I was an important journalist, to tell me my services would no longer be required. That would be fine with me, as I had no interest in writing about arts — and knowing Josh, it would be queer, Black, and HIV-positive art. (He lasted about three months.)

He never called to thank me for my service, or relieve me. Like a coward, he just removed my name from the masthead.

I emailed to call him gutless. He had some excuse.

It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now. I find it annoying that Facebook lists my Philadelphia Weekly employment more prominently than my 47 years at the Daily News. Maybe because I was at PW more recently.

The cops say Josh’s murder looks like a domestic; I don’t know. It is likely he was too trusting.

If premeditated, as it seems to be, I’d like to see the perp get the needle.

Josh would disagree, as he opposed the death penalty. He was not a hypocrite.

R.I.P., Josh Kruger.