June 15, 2013.
Speaking of being old, I have been trying to look back and see if there is/was a pattern in my life and how I would describe myself if I were someone else. No clue. I think I was cute, but not too masculine. I had to make all the moves, but had at least three boys in high school so had sex and loved being in the band.My sister, now dead, and I were “religious”—she played the piano and we sang in the choir (would you believe I actually took voice lessons? I think an excuse to give money to lady in church who was a widow.). I don’t know if my personality changed. I do know I once thought that it would be better to be bi—(more chances). I think there is no doubt that I would be the same if I were hetero. Lazy. Drifted through life but lucked out.
I had hard time learning to do pushups. And to learn to “play” the flute—I could not blow across the thing.
I did not make friends at LSU, in the Army, and lucked out when I found ONE and liked them and felt at home and was lucky enough to have family support and could serve the cause. Dorr would say, yes, when you found time away from the Marines you kept looking for men—I found a few and fresh from the Navy Melvin.
My few streaks of independence were sort of strange. I first ignored orders not to open and close the curtain at the theater I worked for because I had thought that was a sophisticated big town thing—and should have been fired. I just did not show up for an added KP in the Army was willing to take the risk as didn’t think I deserved the punishment, so didn’t and went to library and nothing ever happened.
When I got kicked out of the Army I didn’t think much of it for myself—was only in for two years anyway. Today I think that I was a lousy soldier. I got upset when what I wanted didn’t happen—had no thought of what was good for the Army.
I drove my lovely Pontiac convertible home to Bossier City, left it and a note saying I was ok and not to worry, walked over the bridge to the T&P train station on N Market (later a temporary library, Noel memorial) and got on the train with about $200 and went to L. A.
I loved it the moment I saw it on a family vacation—I didn’t want my family to hurt for my sexuality, but I had no problem with it. Like the Army, I didn’t think they would suffer wondering about me. Later I joined the church, and that meant the church in Bossier City knew where I was. So my father visited me.
It had to be luck. I got a paper found an ad for a dormitory bed, and then found a job, got it and didn’t get involved with ONE, Inc., until after going to the Mattachine convention in Denver, 1959.
Job didn’t ask much about discharge. Did get my LSU record, which was terrible. Same for 2nd job—first was (Anderson Clayton) Cotton Co., doing cables, and 2nd was what is still Retail Credit. They should have checked my discharge as, like current questions about man who exposed NSA, they didn’t bother to check even though I had access to personal files of people with credit.
When house here burned in ’89, I moved back. We thought of building a library—not a good idea, even now, no demand, and now Internet is important and I stayed here as cheap and had house, etc. Do not see any old fellow students, only neighbors, not even glbt people. I traveled in early days, Dallas every month, etc. Not strong enough to do much now, but still want to see Hot Springs and Cajun country.
Enjoying internet and TV and eating too much—but not expensive. So I am where I started.
So now let’s see how things go for our issues. That keeps me young.
