Japan was home for the first fifteen years of my life. Had I remained just two more years and had to choose between staying or coming to the U.S., at that time, I would have chosen to stay. It was home! I remember clearly the afternoon while at the dinner table dad turned to me and asked how I would feel about making the U.S. our home. With tears rolling down my checks I told him no, that I wanted to stay. That was when I was informed that we would be leaving Japan permanently. Never coming back? Yes! Never coming back. I remember for weeks I felt lost and torn. I wanted so much to stay. It was home! It was my heritage, my culture, my language, my home! It was life. Tokyo was my playground. I had friends. To never see them again? No!
We arrived in San Francisco back sometime in the year 1965. Dad purchased a Rambler station wagon, and with what belongs we brought we packed the car and headed to Cleveland, OH., where I finished up grade school and went on to high school. My sophomore year I decided to take my G.E.D., passed it and took off to Youngstown, OH., joining the Peace Core where I trained to become a line Chief.
I don’t remember a whole lot about Cleveland. One thing I did know, I hated it! Meanwhile, things between dad and I were on the down swing … our relationship literally went to the dogs. I was struggling with my identity, my person hood, as well as adjusting to a new way of life. Blending in was expected … it was like being brainwashed into believing that life in Japan never happened.
Following the Peace Core dad tried to force me join the army … War in Vietnam was at its height. Were it not for me attempting suicide I would have been shipped out to the war front. My dad was bound and determined to get rid of me … he did not like the fact that he had a gay son! Once I recovered from my suicide attempt he took me to the back door, opened it, looked me square in the eye and said; “You will never make anything of yourself”. With that he shoved me out the door, closed it and locked it. I didn't see my dad again for six or seven some years. The only contact was with my mom and that was only allowed by phone.
Having to survive, I got a dishwasher's job at a small little restaurant on the south side of Cleveland. Worked my way up to busboy, then waiter and finally a Chief's Assistant … this is where my career in hospitality got its start. Meanwhile, I had a few boyfriends who supported me. I tell you, I was fish bait … didn’t have a problem with surviving. Never did anyone wrong, but did break quit a few hearts along the way … my bad! Hey, I was young … 19. Back then the legal age was 21, but getting in and out of clubs wasn’t a problem … if it was raided I and others would be shoved out the back door. Once the police were paid off the owner, Maxine … a tough old hen she was, would let us back in.
One night while in a small neighborhood bar the front door flung open and the joint was sprayed with bullets … I dove behind to bar which saved my life. Ten people were killed that night! Hey, what can I say, people hated fagots. Then one day I meet Chuck … he was a handsome fellow from Lansing, MI., in town for an auto convention. Four months later my feet touched ground in Lansing for the next six years. Chuck was my first true love. Meanwhile, my parents moved to Columbia, South Carolina.
Chuck was a much older guy than I … I was twenty-three or four. He was thirty-six or five. He had the prettiest wavy black hair, a goatee/mustaches, and the most beautiful sky blue eyes … thus my weakness for baby blues. Physically, he was built like a lumberjack. Hot man! He was a night line manager in the hood department for General Motors - Oldsmobile Division. He got me a job there … I worked on the final assembly line installing dashboards. Honestly, I was a damn good job! But I got tired of it and wanted to go back to school. And for the next four years I attended Michigan State University, graduating with a degree in business. It is at this point, life took on a whole new adventure, an unexpected adventure that would forever change the rest of my life.
Until Tomorrow ...
We arrived in San Francisco back sometime in the year 1965. Dad purchased a Rambler station wagon, and with what belongs we brought we packed the car and headed to Cleveland, OH., where I finished up grade school and went on to high school. My sophomore year I decided to take my G.E.D., passed it and took off to Youngstown, OH., joining the Peace Core where I trained to become a line Chief.
I don’t remember a whole lot about Cleveland. One thing I did know, I hated it! Meanwhile, things between dad and I were on the down swing … our relationship literally went to the dogs. I was struggling with my identity, my person hood, as well as adjusting to a new way of life. Blending in was expected … it was like being brainwashed into believing that life in Japan never happened.
Following the Peace Core dad tried to force me join the army … War in Vietnam was at its height. Were it not for me attempting suicide I would have been shipped out to the war front. My dad was bound and determined to get rid of me … he did not like the fact that he had a gay son! Once I recovered from my suicide attempt he took me to the back door, opened it, looked me square in the eye and said; “You will never make anything of yourself”. With that he shoved me out the door, closed it and locked it. I didn't see my dad again for six or seven some years. The only contact was with my mom and that was only allowed by phone.
Having to survive, I got a dishwasher's job at a small little restaurant on the south side of Cleveland. Worked my way up to busboy, then waiter and finally a Chief's Assistant … this is where my career in hospitality got its start. Meanwhile, I had a few boyfriends who supported me. I tell you, I was fish bait … didn’t have a problem with surviving. Never did anyone wrong, but did break quit a few hearts along the way … my bad! Hey, I was young … 19. Back then the legal age was 21, but getting in and out of clubs wasn’t a problem … if it was raided I and others would be shoved out the back door. Once the police were paid off the owner, Maxine … a tough old hen she was, would let us back in.
One night while in a small neighborhood bar the front door flung open and the joint was sprayed with bullets … I dove behind to bar which saved my life. Ten people were killed that night! Hey, what can I say, people hated fagots. Then one day I meet Chuck … he was a handsome fellow from Lansing, MI., in town for an auto convention. Four months later my feet touched ground in Lansing for the next six years. Chuck was my first true love. Meanwhile, my parents moved to Columbia, South Carolina.
Chuck was a much older guy than I … I was twenty-three or four. He was thirty-six or five. He had the prettiest wavy black hair, a goatee/mustaches, and the most beautiful sky blue eyes … thus my weakness for baby blues. Physically, he was built like a lumberjack. Hot man! He was a night line manager in the hood department for General Motors - Oldsmobile Division. He got me a job there … I worked on the final assembly line installing dashboards. Honestly, I was a damn good job! But I got tired of it and wanted to go back to school. And for the next four years I attended Michigan State University, graduating with a degree in business. It is at this point, life took on a whole new adventure, an unexpected adventure that would forever change the rest of my life.
Until Tomorrow ...
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