Back when I was in high school, my sister talked my father into taking us to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. She had already graduated by that point, and she had been to the beach a number of times with friends. But I had never been to the beach. I had never seen the ocean.
My father was reluctant at first. He was always reluctant. But my sister was persistent, and eventually he gave in. So on a muggy July evening, we piled into the cab of our pickup truck and headed out. Mom, Dad, my sister and I sat cheek by jowl the whole way. I’m not sure now why we traveled at night. To avoid traffic? To avoid driving in the afternoon heat? It was quite humid the evening we made our journey, but I’m sure it would have been much hotter earlier in the day.
I think this may have been the last time just the four of us went anywhere as a family. We went places together later on, but my sister would bring along her boyfriend or husband, or one of us would have to stay behind for one reason or another. The Myrtle Beach outing was the last trip we went on, just the four of us.
My mother suffered from paranoid schizophrenia, and at that point, she was not receiving treatment. She hadn’t even been diagnosed. And that summer she was very ill. She was almost in her own world. Dad worried about her the whole time. She got away from him several times, and he was afraid a man may take advantage of her. She was obviously impaired.
My sister and I spent our days baking in the sun and playing in the Atlantic Ocean. Being in the ocean was exhilarating. I had been in swimming pools, lakes, and rivers, but this was different. You could stand in waist high water, and eventually a big wave would come along and knock you down if you weren’t careful. And the water was salty, just as I had heard it would be. My skin turned brown, and my hair turned blond thanks to Sun-In. Everyone’s hair has a tendency to turn lighter when they spend time in the sun, and Sun-In sped up that process.
After it got dark, my sister and I explored the souvenir shops and hung out at the midway. We were probably spending way too much time together, and one evening we got into a row as a result. I ended up walking away from her. I think I secretly wanted to get lost in the crowd on my own. I was at that age. I wanted something to happen to me, something that was mine, something private, and I ended up having a little adventure.
I went along the boardwalk, and I studied the people. I studied how they dressed, and listened to the way they talked. My eyes, of course, were especially drawn to the boys. And there were many, many boys. I longed to see some sign, some kind of slight hint that some of them, or even one of them was like me. After a while, I sat down on a bench. I just wanted to be there by myself and drink it all in for a few minutes before I went back to our hotel room. But just a moment later a man sat down on the other end of the bench. I found his presence distracting, so I got up and started walking again.
Soon I saw another empty bench and claimed it. But then a strange thing happened. Not more than a minute later the same man came along and sat beside me again. He didn’t look directly at me or say anything. He just sat there. I got a better look at him this time. He was just a man, about 30 maybe. There was nothing about him that made him stand out. He wore khaki pants, a white loose-fitting short-sleeved cotton shirt that buttoned up in front and sneakers. He wasn’t especially attractive or unattractive. He was just a guy.
I got the sense that he might be making some kind of play for me, and that both thrilled me and unnerved me, but I wasn’t sure I had him figured out. So I decided to test him. I got up, went farther along the boardwalk, found another vacant bench and sat down again. Sure enough, the man followed me and once again sat down beside me. That’s when I decided it was time I go back to the room.
Some may have been frightened. Some may think this man’s actions suggests he had a predatory nature. But I never felt in the slightest way threatened by him. This was back in the days when gay people were virtually invisible, and gay men had to learn how to seek one another out in a crowd without straight people noticing. And I think this guy sensed that we were of the same tribe, and he was going to find out if I wanted some company. I may have been a bit young for him, but I wasn’t a child even though I was inexperienced. And instinctively, I was looking. I was searching the crowd, as I said, hunting for one of my own. I was hardly innocent. And it was probably obvious that I was on the prowl to anyone familiar with the game. If I had felt some spark of attraction for this man, I may have been tempted to talk with him, hang out with him, maybe go back to his room with him. I desperately wanted an experience like that, but he just wasn’t the right guy.
I walked along the beach feeling intoxicated. What had taken place was of immense importance. I had gotten away from my family for about an hour, I mingled with strangers far from home, and I quickly found out that there were others like me out there, others who might be interested in me. It was a revelation. I had spent years feeling so lonely, so isolated, and in no time at all, I had a close encounter of the third kind with a gay man. I had made contact. And it was easy.
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