The 1960's and 70's were a weird and wonderful time to grow up. So many important things happened, man had reached out into space, the civil rights movement had tremendous victories, and of course there was STONEWALL.
I remember watching news footage of the riots along with my father and thinking how strange it was that these people felt they had to fight because they seemed like white people and to my 6 year old mind only black people had to fight for anything like that. I also remember feeling a strange kinship with them that I couldn't explain. I only knew one "out" gay person as a kid, my father had a friend from the army that I called Uncle Ronnie, but my mother would never let me be alone with him and never explained why. Eventually i think my mothers dislike drove him away. I need to point out that Ronnie was always just a great guy. he never tried anything with me and if he was my father's friend that says a lot about his character, mom was kind of close minded.
The next real contact I had with a "known" gay person was my sister Cathy's friends Jim and Andy. I was going through puberty at the time and so my own sexuality was starting to come into focus left me very confused. I understand now that what I was feeling was my attraction for them but at the time I read it as them wanting to have sex with me and it scared me into being a bit of an ass.
The only other thing I remember was that supposedly in an apartment complex near my house was a guy who "liked little kids" and we were to steer well clear of those apartments.
Next up... The School Years (bring a blanket and flashlight kids, were going into some very scary territory there.
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