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| Bill and me this morning on our back deck |
July 3rd, 1964 on a rainy night I was flying solo at the Westbury Bar located at 15th and Spruce Streets in center city Philadelphia. Usually my weekend visits to the bar was with my friends Ed Cage and Ron Hampton, both gone now. This particular Saturday night both Ed and Ron had other "engagements" (dates). I was on my own.
I was undecided even if I wanted to go out this Saturday night because of the light rain and center city being basically deserted because of the holiday weekend. Most gays of that era either went to Fire Island New York, Provincetown, Massachusetts or the Jersey Shore (Atlantic City/Wildwood, Ocean City, et al). I didn't have enough money to spread my gay wings to explore those cruising grounds thus I retreated to my favorite gay bar, the Westbury Bar, which now is a discount drug store. Oh if those walls could talk.
While lounging at the far corner of the bar, perusing the room for new faces I was interrupted by the bartender, Jerry Hawes (also gone now). He handed me a drink (my usual, gin and tonic) and nodded to the older (35) gentleman on the other side of the bar. "Oh no" I thought, "It's him." The prior three months or so that "gentleman" had been sending me drinks with the obvious goal of picking me up.
The first time Jerry the bartender tapped me on the shoulder while I was engaged in a gossipy conversation with my friends Ed and Ron, to give me that complimentary gin and tonic from that gentleman. I said "Who?" to Jerry and he pointed across to the other side of the bar near the Skeet Ball machine to a black haired, smiling "older" man. I thought "Oh no, not him." "Him" was Bill Kelly, my now partner/husband of fifty-six years.
Bill had been trying to pick me up for months with the complimentary gin and tonics but I wasn't that type of guy. For one thing, even though Bill was (and still is) a very attractive man, he wasn't my "type." I generally prefer smaller, bookish, nerdy guys, not what I perceived what Bill was, a Mr. Personality who could get whoever he wanted.
I had seen Bill with his friends playing Skeet Ball, whooping it up, having a good time. When I realized that this guy sent me that drink I thought "Oh no, I'm not going to be the next notch in your gun." No way, no how. I may be easy but I'm no slut. I was looking for love, not a one night stand. I had my aura of mystery to maintain after all.
Those drinks continued every time I was in the bar and Bill was there. I always acknowledged the drink but I never went over and talked to him. However, on this Saturday night, with the rain falling gently outside, and seeing Bill sitting by himself at one of those little round tables that the Westbury Bar had at that time, smiling at me when I looked over at him after Jerry handing me the latest gin and tonic. I thought to myself "At least I can go over and thank him in person", being the nice guy that I am. I fully expected him to exhibit an attitude that he made a "down payment" on spending the night with me by all those drinks he bought for me. I had my exit plan.
I lifted my free gin and tonic and left my safe place at the corner or the bar and sauntered over to Bill sitting at that little round table. He smiled at me. I said "I want tohank you for all those drinks you've been sending to me" and prepared to exit quickly. However, Bill's response wasn't what I expected. He smiled and said "you're welcome." I don't remember exactly what he said next but what I do remember was that he didn't put the hard press on me like so many others had. I think he asked me where my friends (Ron and Ed) were. I told him. I was standing while he was sitting. My impression of him was that he was a nice guy. Not the overly aggressive bore that I assumed he was. It wasn't long before I was sitting at that little round table with him and we were engaged in a conversation at that sparsely occupied bar.
After a couple of house of conversation he asked me how I was going to get home. I said that Ron and Ed were supposed to stop by and pick me up but I hadn't heard from them. This was before the age of cell phones, except perhaps for Maxwell Smart with that shoebox size "portable phone." When I missed my ride with Ed and Ron I would spend the night at the YMCA a few blocks from the Westbury Bar ($10 a night, that location is now a foo-foo hotel - French - that charges a LOT more than $10 a night for a young gay guy who didn't have a ride home). Bill invited me to spend the night at his apartment in Pennsauken New Jersey. He said he would drive me to my home in Coatesville, Pennsylvania the next day. After talking to Bill I felt comfortable enough with him that he wasn't the boring ogre that I thought he was and I wouldn't be just another notch in his gun. And you know what folks? Fifty-six years later, even though we've been through many hills and valleys in our relationship, we're still together.
And that my friends is how I met my husband.
