True story posted on FB by my older brother who lives in Abilene:
Sad news - A gentle and original spirit. Leslie rode his bicycle, towing his refrigerator-box mobilehome, thru my Beer Barn back in the mid-nineties, wanting a warm 6pk of Guinness Stout. I told him, as a devout Texan, I only had cold beer, including Guinness. We visited and he told me he was going cross-country on his contraption of a hacienda, coming from Seattle, headed to Dallas and points east. He was dressed very smartly in a matching beige jacket & short skirt & tan heels, with that curly Leslie hair and scraggly Van Dyke beard. He would come by regularly as I was now keeping his 6 pk of Guinnes at room temp. He spent the night inside the drive-thru one night when we had a big snow, since his cardboard hut wasn't heated. A few weeks later, after a hospital stay, caused by some Abilene punk who had hit him across the face with a 2x4, while Leslie was biking down the street, he came in to say goodbye. I told him he should head to Austin, which would be more to his liking than Dallas. I told him about all the live music, better weather, and a city that would be more in line with his creativity and originality. He decided to try Austin, and I guess he never left. I saw him on 6th Street several years later, he gave me a big hug and then mugged for the camera with me - it was good old Leslie, just being Leslie. You can't describe how he was or who he was on a tombstone, but he deserved to be treated with respect, and honored for his bold sense of humor and originality.