The Puritans Must Be Rolling Over In Their Graves

John Winthrop, first governor of Massachusetts Bay colony

I woke up this morning feeling great!  So this is what freedom feels like?  I love it!

The last time I felt this free and equal was back in 1974 on an early July summer evening as my friend Bob Mc. and I rolled down Commercial Street in Provincetown, Massachusetts.  This was the first time we had ever been in Massachusetts and also the first time we were in a gay resort.  

Ariel view Provincetown, Mass 1974

What struck us first was how crowded the town was.  Solid masses of people on the sidewalks and in the road. At first we were mildly irritated that people were walking in the road and not jumping aside to make way for our vehicle.  Then we noticed something we had never in our lives seen before, same sex couples walking down the street (and in the road) together, many holding hands, some kissing and just being together.  What really astounded us was that the straight people seemed to take no notice.  There were no faces twisted in disgust at the sight of two men or two women walking together, CLOSELY.  

Commercial Street, Provincetown, Mass - 1974

Bob and I were thrown off balance by this new dynamic.  Prior to this steamy, July evening in 1974, in our previous life we were conditioned to expect different responses from straight folks when they say gay folks expressing fondness and closeness  in public.  Then we both had this very strange feeling.  We couldn't quite identify it because we had never felt it before.  Well, actually I did feel something like it before and that was the time I went into my first gay bar in Clairton, PA and saw men dancing with men.  But this was different.  This was in public and there were straight people around. 

Me in Provincetown (working on my skin cancer) - 1976

We quickly adjusted our attitude towards the crowds overflowing in the street thus slowing us down to our destination which was a gay bed and breakfast called "The Ranch" further on down Commercial Street.  Funny thing, we thought we were going to a dude ranch and we were dressed accordingly.  HA!  We found out differently when we arrived at "The Ranch."  

But that is another whole story which deserves its own blog post.  Back to the program in progress.

When we got to "The Ranch" we discussed this new "feeling" that we both experienced.  It wasn't too long until we both came to the realization that this "feeling" was freedom.  Yes folks, FREEDOM! God was that ever a great feeling.   

Outdoor cafe dining in Provincetown - 1976

For the next week we were in Provincetown we bathed and indulged ourselves in this new "thing" called freedom.  

"Tea Dance" at the Boat Slip in Provincetown, Mass (oh I spent many an afternoon here getting sloshed dancing)

Then it came time to leave and return to home which for me was center city Philadelphia.  It wasn't too long before I had to make an attitude readjustment.  Sure, I lived in center city Philadelphia which housed a large gay population. That was one reason I moved to center city Philly. But I quickly realized that even though there were many gay men and women in center city, that feeling of "Freedom" was gone.  Oh sure, a same sex couple could try walking down Spruce Street holding hands.  At best such a public display of affection would guarantee many disapproving looks from the straight people passing you on the street.  At the worst you would have a homophobic slur thrown at you like "Look at the fags!" Or you could even have what I had happen to me once, chased down the street to a friend's apartment to escape a gang of baseball bat wielding South Philly toughs who periodically on Saturday nights would drink enough beer to get the courage to go to "Philly and bash some fags."  Yes, I was chased simply because I was walking down Spruce Street......by myself.  Yes folks, even though I had fooled myself by thinking I was living The Life in center city Philly I didn't know what real freedom was like until that 1974 summer evening in Provincetown, Mass.

Jay (guy who reads my blog and sent me some of his Provincetown pictures)  feeling no pain at the Tea Dance

Yesterday I had that feeling again.  I was sitting at my computer, banging out my latest blog titled "Same Sex Ruling Due Today."  To be honest with you I didn't expect anything positive, especially because of the Supreme Court's ruling the previous day which put a dagger in the heart of the 1964 Voting Rights Bill.  Oh no, I was expecting the worse.  Then while I was typing with my TV on in the background I heard THE NEWS!  The Supreme Court declared DOMA, the "Defense of Marriage Ace" unconstitutional!  Unbelievable!  I could not believe it.  DOMA, the only time in our nation's history that Congress passed and the president signed a bill legalizing discrimination against a class of its citizens.  DOMA was no longer valid.  This meant that anyone married in those state that have legal same sex marriages would be entitled to the dignity and respect now routinely accorded to straight couples, including all the Federal protections and tax benefits.  Then that feeling swept over me like Niagara Falls.

Me at Niagara Falls 1967 - back in the bad old closeted days

 Oh my.  I had forgotten what it felt like.  Folks, it feels good!

Which brings to my mind, I wonder if John Winthrop, the first governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony and Puritan would feel about yesterday's Supreme Court ruling knocking down DOMA.  You all know John Winthrop don't you?  He left England with his little band of religious zealots called "The Puritans" to find....get ready for it......religious freedom.  Of course his brand of religious freedom was you either practiced his religion or you were ostracized and punished.  Sound familiar?  Ostracized and punished.  Hmmmm.  Yes folks, the irony is that one of the first leaders to come to this country for freedom probably would not approve of yesterday's Supreme Court ruling.  Winthrop and his fellow Puritans must be rolling (twirling is probably more accurate) over in their graves today.  

Winthrop and his fellow intolerant Puritans (nice drag).  Justice Scalia would feel right at home.

Another Old Photo Find!

Friends - Army Security Agency Training School - Ft. Devens, Mass - April 1960

Hey folks!  I found another old photo surprise!  You know me and my photos.  Oh yes, my friends, neighbors and relatives know that I can sometimes be a pain with my picture taking and I become discouraged, but it is at times like this when I am glad I am a pain in the ass photographer.

The photo at the top of this blog is of me. Can you spot me? I am the tall guy in the back on the right behind the guy with the cigarette dangling out of his pie hole.  It was taken in the spring of 1960 (April I think) during the time I was attending the Army Security Agency Training School at Ft. Devens, Massachusetts.  This photo was taken during break in one of our classes.

I have some other photos from that same day which I have posted previously to this blog but I haven't seen this picture since I took it fifty-two years ago.  

Where I lived at Ft. Devens, Mass - old World War II barracks

I think I was the only soldier who had a camera (a cheapie Brownie) in our class.  I don't remember anyone else taking photos.  My only regret is that I didn't take more photos.  

There were only two times I took photos.  Once during this class day.  The other time was one of the rare weekends that I spent on base.  Most of my fellow soldiers took off on weekends.  One of the weekends I didn't go home to Downingtown, PA I walked around the base and took random photos.  

Isn't it interesting that in this day and age I doubt if photos would be allowed at any Army Security Agency training facility.  Ah yes, those were indeed innocent times.  Great times too, I had a lot of friends.  We were in it all together.  I think that is what makes our Army the best in the world, the camaraderie between the fellow soldiers.  Those days (from April to October 1960) were some of the best in my life.  

It was all good.

By the way, I learned last month that the World War II barracks we lived in were used to house Italian prisoners of war during World War II.  Those barracks are of course no longer there. Strip malls now occupy those spaces.  History disappeared.  

Buffalo Ron

"Buffalo Ron"

Ever wonder what an older, gay man with too much time on his hands does?  He blogs and has pictures taken of himself as a characters from the 19th century.


The first time I had one of the old time photos taken was in 1974 in Provincetown, Massachusetts.  I was visiting Cape Cod for the first time.  Actually it was the first time I visited any vacation destination.  

Big Bob and Ron Provincetown, Mass - 1974

I grew up with my two younger brothers in the poor white trash section of Downingtown, Pennsylvania.  Back in those days, the Fifties, our big thrill was Pop taking us to the local swimming hole after weddings eight rows of corn.  Not that I'm complaining mind you.  I loved our childhood summer activity as a "townie" in the small town of Downingtown.  The term "townie" comes from my classmate Carole Davis who lived on a farm outside of Downingtown.  Back in those days you were either a "townie" or a "farmer."  Truth be said, being called a "farmer" was worse.

Me and my brothers (I'm in the center)  and our dog Sam at the local swimming hole 1954

Pop didn't take us kids to "the shore", as the Jersey Shore was called in those days (and these days too.)  We didn't know the thrill of seeing the waves wash in on the sands of the beach in Atlantic City.  Nope.  The old Watering Hole out past Boot Road was good enough for us.  Again, not complaining.  In fact, we always had a grand old time.


Fast forward to 1974.  Now I had a good paying job in the big city of Philadelphia.  I had vacation.  I heard that Provincetown was the place to go for a young gay guy like me. It was the Gay Disneyland.  So I talked my friend Big Bob (he has a size 15 foot) into going with me.  Bob drove.  Big excitement.


The first night in P-town we're in the mass of humanity on Saturday night cruising down Commerical Street.  Yes, that is the name of Provincetown's main street.  Not very imaginative is it?  One of the first things I see is this tourist trap place that take photos that put you back in time.  I ask Big Bob if he's up for it.  He was.  We got our picture taken.  That was in 1974.  


Every year since then I've been meaning to have another picture taken.  I finally got around to it this year, 2010. Uh, only 36 years later.  Talk about procrastination.  


Now I'm trying to make up for lost time before I bit the dust.  Kick the bucket.  Buy the farm.  Pictured above is yours truly as......are you ready? 

BUFFALO RON!

Do you think I waited to long?  

Did I pull it off?

Am I butch enough?

At least I'm color coordinated.

Stay tuned.  There's more to come.  

Do Ask, Do Tell

Don't Ask, Don't Tell - 1962 version (three gays, I'm on the right)

The repeal of the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy is before Congress again.  I try not to post negative of whining, complaining posts to my blog but on this subject I'm having a hard time avoiding it.

I am gay and have been all my life.  I've known I was "different" from my earliest memory which was when I was about four years old.  Of course at that time I didn't know the word "gay."  I only knew I was "different" and that I should keep that fact to myself.

Me, 5 years old 1946

When I went to grade school was the first time I heard the hateful words "fairy", "fag", and worse.  Then I heard the word homosexual.  That was me, a homosexual.

After graduating from high school I joined the Army.  On my application to join the Army I lied when I answered the question "Do you ever have homosexual tendencies?"  I knew if I answered truthfully that the Army would reject me.  So I lied about who I was so I could survive and serve my country.

Me, basic training Ft. Dix, NewJersey 1960 all growed up

As fate would have it the Army assigned me to work at the National Security Agency at Ft. George G. Meade, Maryland.  In order to work at NSA, I had to have a top secret clearance.  Again, I had to lie when I filled out the application to work at NSA.

Me in my "summer tans" 1962 - check the sharp creases

Ironically, I met my first gay friends during the 2 1/2 years I worked at NSA.  We all lied about our sexual identity just to survive during our tour of duty.  Periodically, the NSA and the Army would have purges of gays.  You didn't have to be involved in sexual activity to lose your clearance, only to be accused.

Me with friends at Ft. Devens, Mass 1962 - good times

I had a good job when I worked at NSA.  I loved being in the Army.  At the end of my tour of duty I could have converted to a civilian status and kept my same job at NSA.  But  because I was gay I did not.  I wanted to make the Army a career but I did not.  The reasons I made these decisions is because I knew sooner or later I would be found out.  I didn't want to start out on a lifetime career only to have it ended once I was outed or came out.

Me (standing on the left) with my friends at Ft. Devens 1962 (no unit cohesion problems here)

Thus it is with much interest that I have viewed all the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" controversy.  Of course gay and lesbian members of the armed forces should be allowed to serve openly.  A person's service should be based on behavior not who they are.

Me (on the right) on the firing range at Ft. Meade, Md. 1962 with another gay service member - we both qualified

There is an assumption that all gay people are sex obsessed.  Of course some gays are sex obsessed just as some heterosexuals are sex obsessed.  But to assume that once gays and lesbians are allowed to serve openly that "unit cohesion" will suffer is wrong.  Trust me, I know.   I am the expert.

The Department of Defense is conducting a study of what the effects would be on the armed forces if gays are allowed to serve openly.  A study?  What's to study?  Most service members now know who is gay and who is not.  Congress and the DOD doesn't give the average member of the services much credit.  Most service members don't care who is gay.  Of course some do.  We will always have those among us who feel threatened by those who are different than they are.  And there are some who are closeted gays themselves who don't want to be outed for their own selfish reasons.  Usually, these are the sex obsessed gays.

Friends -  Ft. Devens, Mass 1960 (I'm kneeling on bottom left)

Bob, Duane, Unknown, me, Bill and Dick         

One the most ridiculous suggestions I've head being made in this "study" is separate housing for gays and lesbians.  Absolutely ridiculous.  Isn't this the same thing that happened with blacks before former president Truman lifted the separate living quarters of blacks serving in the armed forces?  Haven't we as a country moved past this?  Apparently not.

 

Me in the barracks - harmless even with my pants off (back when I smoked)

I never thought in my lifetime I thought I would see as much progress that has been made in the public arena of acceptance of gays and lesbians.  I even resent using the word "acceptance."  I don't need to be "accepted." I don't need someone to "tolerate" my "lifestyle."  Just what is my "lifestyle" anyway?  Swinging from chandeliers while having wild sex?  That never was me nor will it ever be.  I just am.  The only difference between me and my straight male friends is that I was born with a sexual attraction to members of my own sex.   I didn't chose.  It just was.

Me with one of my boyfriends, Brad - not permitted while I was in the Army

So here we are again, debating the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."  Why there is even a discussion about this absurd policy still baffles me.  To me it is so clear.  Let people be who there are.  If they misbehave themselves, straight or gay, then hold them accountable for their behavior not who they are.

Even though I was prevented from choosing a career in the Army or a civilian career at the National Security Agency, my life has turned out pretty well.  If I had stayed in Army or worked at NSA I would never have met my Life Partner Bill.  I left the Army in 1963.  I met Bill in 1964.  We have been together ever since, 46 years.  And they say gay relationships don't last.

My Life Partner Bill - Air Force 1953

Just to show you how strange life is, Bill, my Life Partner was also a career service person.  He was in the Army and then Air Force for seven years before he had to leave to support his widowed mother.

Thus the irony, of two former service members who, if permitted to stay in the service, would never have found lifelong happiness outside the military.

Me and Bill 1972 - Philadelphia, PA - plaid was in