Kingston teen's loved ones mourn loss of their 'shining star'

Kale Clark taught himself to play everything from bass guitar to the harmonica, braved rocky cliffs to harvest wild raspberries for his loved ones, and could captivate a crowd with his stage presence.

He was so full of passion and personality his families said it's as if he lived multiple lives in the 15 and a half years he spent on Earth.

"Kale was the kind of kid that jumped right into everything," said his mother, Christina Avery. "He was a really joyous and silly and sassy person, and we're just trying to build his love into our grief."

On Jan. 4, Kale was at a friend's house for a sleepover. According to Avery, his last words before going for a walk were typical of her child's restless spirit: "I'm bored. Let's go on an adventure."

Around 5:30 p.m., Kale was struck by a work van along Rosedale Road, about a 30-minute drive north of Kingston.

He was pronounced dead at the scene. Police said a second pedestrian was transported to hospital with minor injuries.

"I feel like he would be a little disappointed that he went out doing something as mundane is walking down the street, because it should have been a motorcycle or skydiving," said Avery. "He was constantly giving me heart attacks."

Kale was raised by two loving families, both now devastated by his death.

His father, Dean Clark, said the teen was a "ball of energy" from birth, constantly on the move, learning and growing.

"There wasn't a bad bone in this kid's body, and there wasn't a challenge that he wouldn't jump into," Clark said. "He's my balance, my compass. I'm lost without him."

Nathalie Clark, Kale's stepmother, described him as the one of the "kindest, brightest, most courageous little kiddos" whose infectious joy brightened the world for everyone around him.

His loss has left siblings Oliver, Amelia and Wilder feeling empty, she added.

Always advocating for others

Fighting tears, Avery and her partner Radford Cowan said Kale's passions included activism. He took part in animal rights and climate protests from the time he was six.

That advocacy included an early appearance before city council where he urged stores to keep their doors closed during the summer to conserve air conditioning.

"He wasn't even tall enough to see over the podium," said Cowan. "All you could see was just this little lump of his head."

Avery said Kale was wise beyond his years and continued to fight for others as he grew up.

"He's been really impassioned by the plight of the Palestinian people, and has participated in ... encampments and protests," she explained.

In the month before his death, Kale, who was transgender, was prescribed testosterone for the first time, something he'd been waiting years for, the couple said.

In a world where so many trans folks don't make it to adulthood, they said they know Kale would have been a mentor to others.

"I just wanted to see him grow up," said Cowan. "That's all I wanted, was just to have him grow up into a big, beautiful, shining star."

A star on stage

Among the places where Kale shone brightest was on stage.

He had "huge plans" for the future, according to Avery, who said the teen was "certain he was going to be the next Elton John."

Like his idol, Kale was a self-taught musician, learning the flute, keyboard, drums and more.

His repertoire included Hot Cross Buns, but with a twist: Avery and Cowan explained Kale had bragged about being able to play the song on three recorders at once — one in each nostril and the third in his mouth.

In the midst of their mourning, that story has inspired them to try to embrace some of his sense of humour.

Over the past few days, when the couple has been struggling with sadness, they've started picking up recorders and trying to squeak out the song.

"It's very hard to continue crying when you are badly playing Hot Cross Buns," said Avery with a smile. "Kale would love it, because he always wanted everyone to jam with him, so he would be delighted that so many people are being forced into playing a new instrument."

The couple has also found other treasures Kale left behind, which have them feeling "wrapped in a beautiful hug." Among them is a birthday card written for Cowan on his 31st birthday.

"We have family. That means we have joy," it reads in part. "I will always give you the joy you need."

Avery said the past week has been the most horrific experience Kale's loved ones could have imagined, but at the same time they've felt surrounded by a "ribbon of community love."

They're also taking comfort in knowing Kale always lived life to the fullest.

"He got to experience love. He got to experience the stage. He got to play beautiful music. He really had a great last month," said Avery.

Dean Clark, Kale's father, said the world can't help but be darker without a star like his child's shining so brightly.

He plans to plant a tree in the backyard — a red oak — as a lasting symbol of Kale's vibrant life.

"It's the most flamboyant, solid tree that I can imagine," he said.