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Transcript on deposit at The Southern Historical Collection, The Louis Round Wilson Library
Citation of this interview should be as follows:
“Interview R-0147, in
the Southern Oral History Program Collection #4007,
Southern Historical
Collection, The Wilson Library,
University of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill”
In this interview, William E. White Jr. describes his encounters with religion, race, and sexuality. Bored by the routines of his Baptist church, White sought something more energetic. He found this energy in the Charismatic Renewal movement, a fellowship of dissatisfied Christians seeking an intimate, powerful religious experience. White confronted his racial identity as a white student at Southern High School, one of the first high schools to integrate in the Durham, North Carolina, area, and at North Carolina Central University, a historically black school where his last name symbolized his outsider status. He also confronted his sexual identity as he struggled with being gay, but he eventually came to terms with what he calls his internalized homophobia. White discusses additional challenges, including his parents' difficult divorce, a turbulent relationship with his father, and his struggle with AIDS, a disease that frightens him but which, he says, has enabled him to take risks he would not have taken before. This interview is an intimate portrait of a man standing at the intersection of spiritual fulfillment, race, and sexuality.
William E. White Jr. describes his encounters with religion, race, and sexuality.
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
We are getting ready to start our second interview. This is October twenty-ninth in the year 2000. And this is tape 2.1.
All right, because I didn't do a proper names form last time, I have like no full names.
So let's start with that. What was your mother's full name?
Mildred Louise.
Spelled?
L-O-U-I-S-E question mark.
That's usually right.
Couch. That was her maiden name.
Okay. And White was her married name.
Correct.
What was your brother's name? What is your brother's name?
My younger brother's name is Michael Wayne White.
And your sister?
Patricia Ann.
All right. And your adopted brother?
Foster brother—Raymond Guy Lanier.
Spell the last name?
L-A-N-I-E-R.
And just a question about your mother, you said she came to Florida for a quick divorce?
Un-uh.
What's the story behind that?
Um, she married a — don't know what possessed her, after I saw him, he was the ugliest man — she married a guy named Claude Phipps, and they were married about three years and he tried to run her down with his motorcycle. So I'd say things didn't go real well. And she found out she could get a divorce quicker in Florida than in North Carolina, so she went down to divorce Claude and met my dad.
Did she move to Florida, or did she just go down for the divorce?
Initially I think she just went down for the divorce. But she finally moved to Florida.
Okay. And what were the names of the schools that you went to, the elementary and —
That I went to?
Yeah.
I went to Azalea Elementary.
All right.
And Azalea Junior High, nowadays I think they call it Middle School.
Right.
And Southern Durham High School.
Is that still around, or?
Yeah, they've just moved the location and put it into a much better, a much nicer building, which wouldn't take much.
Where was it when you went?
On Ellis Road. Which is nowadays — you cross Ellis every time you go up and down [I-] 40 just before you get to [I-] 440. So it's out in the county.
Yeah, was it mostly kids who lived out in the county, or was it — what was the zoning for it, do you know?
The vast predominance of kids at South Durham, or Southern High, were the children of redneck tobacco farmers, who drove pickup trucks and wore bib overalls.
So it was county.
Yeah, it was county.
I was county then. And your English Lit teacher's name was Mrs. Sharpe.
Un-uh.
And how would you spell that?
S-H-A-R-P-E.
Okay, good.
Joanne.
[To the dog] Charlie. [To ASHLEY CROWE] If you suddenly feel a cold nose on your ankle don't scream.
That's all right. And your friends in junior high, their names. You gave me the names, Cheryl Slosberg, Lynn Seaburry, Janet Loader, Mary Andre.
Those were junior high school friends.
Right.
High school friends, so it's only two. Were David Glen and Wanda Velvet Pickard.
Could you go through the spellings of those last names. Slosberg would be?
S-L-O-S-B-E-R-G.
Seaburry?
S-E-A-B-U-R-R-Y.
And how did she spell her first name.
Lynn? L-Y-N-N.
No E?
Un-un.
Janet Loader?
L-O-A-D-E-R.
Mary Andre?
A-N-D-R-E.
To high school, David Glen — Is that one N or two
One.
And Velvet Pickard, her last name?
P-I-C-K-A-R-D.
Hey, I did pretty good for guessing.
You did very well.
Yeah, I'm trying to figure all this out. Let's see what were some of the other names, I needed. Oh the meetings, the Charismatic Renewal meetings, were at the house of Dr. Vanderbilt? Spelled like the school?
Exactly.
Okay, personal trainer at Straw Valley is Susan Stover, spelled?
Just like the candy, S-T-O-V-E-R.
Okay, the name of the women who owned the house that you lived at at the Art Institute was Oliver — Mrs. Oliver.
Mrs. Oliver, God I'd forgotten that. Yes it was. That's right, if she had a first name, I never knew it.
All right. And you said one of your best friends in Atlanta was Mary Upton. How would you spell that?
U-P-T-O-N.
All right. And the name of the person who taught you still life? He went a little crazy?
Oh, oh God.
His last name — Brumley?
Yes, thank you, B-R-U-M-L-E-Y.
And the person who was the head of the art department there was —
Grecco.
Grecco? How was that spelled?
G-R-E-C-C-O.
And the name of your first boyfriend how do you spell the last name?
You told me Douglas Broughten Hill.
Thank you. That was the wrong person. H-I-L-L.
And the middle name there?
Just like the high school. B-R-O-U-G-H-T-E-N.
And you said Randy's was Lester McLane.
Un-huh.
How would you spell that last name?
M-C capital L-A-N-E.
All right, I think that's all the names. All right, that went pretty well there. I just had some follow up questions.
I was wondering if you could talk a little more about the Charismatic Renewal movement, I'm not really familiar with that.
Actually, you're talking about my experience in it?
Yeah.
Okay.
And then just the movement in general some too, if you could.
My experience in it was, as I said, boredom with the Baptist Church.
Thinking there had to be something more, and just stumbling over, well,
I didn't literally stumble over my employer's wife — she came in
everyday — I mean the business was in big trouble — and she was always
smiling and perky and I thought, this woman must be drunk. But one day I
talked to her about, and she said, "Oh no." And she got me to at least
go check it out. And I found these people that were just amazing. They
always
And so I started attending these meetings at Dr. Vanderbilt's. That's when I found out about things like, being slain in the spirit, speaking in tongues, and no they didn't handle snakes, drink poison, or run the pews. I went to one of those churches. And I found out that what they were experiencing was an indwelling of the Holy Spirit, with tangible evidence. I mean things happened to you; you look different. And I thought this is a neat thing. And I got to checking into it and this has been around for, oh Lord, 30 or 40 years, or more. And it just isn't quite that well known because, unfortunately, the Charismatic movement got overshadowed by the Holy Rollers. Like I said, I've been to one of those churches. So anytime you say Charismatic Renewal people expect you to twitch, and fall on the floor, and roll round, and round, and round, and run up and down the aisles, and all that good stuff. And it's a very calm, quiet, and energizing experience.
Were they services, or?
Oh yeah, they were full church services. That's one of my complaints with most non-denominational Charismatic Fellowships. Because the praise and worship part of the service would last forty-five minutes. That's the most fun. There's a short break to get the kids all to their classrooms. And then the preacher sits down, and he teaches, for anywhere from forty-five minutes to an hour and a half. And that's just a little more Sunday than I can stand. So, right now I'm trying to find a place where the priest doesn't have to go quite on and on and on 'cause by that long, you've lost my attention span. It's like, "I don't know what he said."
Did it grow out of the Pentecostal movement?
I think so. Yeah it basically — if you're going to put the two of them together. In my experience at least, if you go into a church of Holy Rollers, they're usually low income, low education, very common folk. Which is fine. And you get into the Charismatic Renewals, the non-denominational fellowships and they're more intellectual. And I think the fact that they don't rely so much on emotion. There's a lot of emotion there. But not enough to make you jump up and run up and down the aisle.
And the churches are still around?
Oh yeah, in fact my younger brother is pastoring one now.
Is this a denominational one or?
It's a non-denominational Charismatic Fellowship. Called Christian Assembly.
And you said your mother went to kind of a splinter group of the Church?
My mom ended up, what bit of time she was there before she died, at
Bethel Christian Center, which is a little more Holy Roller. The service
at several points takes on a three-ring circus atmosphere.
And there were some neat characters. We actually nicknamed some of them.
There was Sister Earthquake who would just go into these all but grand
mal seizures when the spirit was on her. There were the Top Sisters, who
would go down to the front of the church and just spin like tops. Sister
Airplane would jump up, throw both arms out,
And is that the Pentecostal, Holy Roller church you went to.
That's the Holy Roller church. I think most people properly call it the Pentecostal church.
Right.
And it was just too strange for me. And I finally got to checking into it. And that's when I ran into places like the Vanderbilt's.
Was that the last Charismatic Renewal churches you were involved in, or one of the first?
No, that was a Pentecostal church, there's a difference.
Right.
The last Charismatic Fellowship I was involved with was Christian
Assembly. I'm checking into one now called —
Where is that?
Most of these churches when they first get started meeting in school gymnasiums. And this one's at Little River Elementary, I think. No, Hillandale Elementary, it's on Hillandale Road.
Interesting. And are any of them denominational?
No.
No they're all non-denominational.
Right.
Okay.
They're all, the congregation is made of recovering groups of something. Recovering Baptists, recovering Methodist, whatever.
Does the service lean toward one toward on denomination or another?
Most of the time, no. They're more, free-form. They don't quite follow stream of consciousness, but close.
Could you describe again how your family lived all clumped together, like how they were, so I can write it down? Because I didn't —
Oh sure. You mean the family compound?
Yes.
Let's see in my house were
Right.
In the house next to ours — oh God, here we go —
Was that just next door?
Just next door, not quite as close as the neighbors here, but almost. Oh lord, Aunt Bessie, Uncle Ed, John, Richard, and Wallace, their kids. Let's see. My house —
Was it the aunt that was related to you?
Yes, that was my mother's sister. My house was perpendicular to Aunt
Bessie's and if you looked out across Aunt Bessie's front yard and
driveway, another house faced hers. And that house contained, my
Grandmother and Grandfather Couch, my Great-Aunt Omi, and my Aunt Mabel.
And these were all kind of fairly grouped around a large circular drive,
and you hit the main drive and you could go out to Page Road, or you
And then, that was the only group of your family that lived right there?
Nope, actually come to think of it, across the street from Aunt Bessie, were my, oh gracious, Aunt Beatrice, Uncle Dennis, and my two cousins Floyd and Ruth.
And what was it like living with all that family so close by?
nosey people. Everybody in all the households knew
what was going on in other households, in detail. And
I found that a little uncomfortable; it was kind of like living in fish
bowls. Prime example is when my foster brother and I came out to my mom
and she said, "Sure, go to the bars." We'd get home at one, two o'clock
in the morning, the very next morning my Aunt Bessie would call the
house and go, [puts on accent] "Mildred, which one of your kids came in
this morning at two a.m.?"
So did you pretty much come out to all your family right away or just your mother?
Just my mom initially. I mean after all she worked for two psychiatrist
and a psychiatric social worker, so she was pretty cool about it. Um, my
dad was a little tougher; he was a little freaked. But yeah, actually,
when I came out to my mom, of course, I came out to my brothers and
sister. And it was easier because my foster brother had paved the way;
he'd already come out. So, it was a little easier.
What were your siblings' reactions?
Um, at the time they really didn't care. It was like, "Yeah fine, no big deal."
Did that change?
It changed when we grew up and my younger brother got [puts on stuffy
accent] very religious. And then, of course, it became an abomination in
the
Right. How about your extended family?
A lot of my extended family knew and I didn't. I didn't know they were
aware. My sister was living with my Aunt Bessie next door at one point,
and I was going down to the drug store. She said, "Can I ride?" I said,
"Sure." On the way back she kind of hemmed and hawed. She said, "Um,
Bill, Aunt Bessie knows your gay." I said, "What? How'd she find out?"
Pat said, "Well, she backed me into a corner." So we got back to Aunt
Bessie's house, went in the living room, sat down. Now my aunt was just
a definite country woman. Great big old country woman. I said, "Well,
Aunt Bessie, I hear you know more about me than I thought you did." She
just grinned. I said, "You never said anything!?" She said, [puts on
southern accent] "Well, Bill, son, who am I to judge you?" I thought,
"Who are you?"
How many of your cousins are right around your age, or is there a big age gap between y'all?
There's a pretty good size age gap. I think my cousins that lived next door, John, Richard and Wallace — Wallace is the same age as my siblings, Richard the middle kid was one grade ahead of me, and John was two grades ahead of me. So they'd be about the closest in age that I've got.
Where they the ones you were closest to, or?
Yeah, they had to be, if for nothing else, just due to proximity. The rest of my extended family is spread out all over North Carolina and Virginia. So I only saw that lot of them once a year at the reunion.
Right.
Yeah. Put that on pause a second let me get some tea to wet my whistle with.
Sure.
My sister. This should be interesting. Pat grew up in a house with two
brothers, when we moved to North Carolina it became two brothers and a
foster brother. And somehow I got designated as older sister, and she
would tell me things that most brothers never know. As we got older, we
kind of drifted apart a bit until about, oh Lord, ten years ago? Fifteen
years ago. And my sister and I have become very close basically because,
we think the same way. Mike, our brother, doesn't have a clue. He could
sit down at a conversation with Pat and I and he'll spend most of the
time blinking his eyes real fast, like, "What are you talking about?"
His mind just doesn't work the same way. Pat and I are both very
emotional and Mike, I guess is a little — Mike keeps it all locked in;
doesn't express it if he can help it. And the older sister routine
started up again. In
Was she constantly warring with your mother, or? Because you mentioned just a minute ago that she was living at your aunt—s for a while.
Um, I think she was living at my aunt's after my mom had died. But, yeah,
they butted heads on fairly frequent occasion. That's
Differently than you and your brothers were?
Yeah.
And then, a couple — twice I think in our last interview you mentioned your sister as crazy. What do you mean by that?
This goes back to the Charismatic Renewal. When I got involved with it, the standard routine — and I'll ask God about that when I see God. But when you're first baptized in the Holy Spirit is what they call it, you're just obnoxious, I mean you want to go climb up on the rooftop and yell to everybody. And a day rolled around when my mom, I think my great aunt Omi, and I were in the den part of the very large kitchen-dining-den area, and we were talking churchy stuff. And my sister was at the dining table, and the next thing we know she is pounding the table with her fists, screaming, "I don't wanna go to Hell, I don't wanna go to Hell, I don't wanna go to Hell!" We're going, "What is this all about?"
And it got worse to the point where we put her in the Mental Health part of Durham Regional. And they didn't do much there, except keep her drugged. And when her insurance ran out we had to take her to Butner. And the hardest thing I've ever had to do was let this great, huge, big, butch, burly nurse take my sister into a locked ward. I mean there were twenty or thirty people in that area. And all I could do watch as they closed and locked this great huge heavy door. I don't think my mom and I said two words on the way home. And that was tough.
Most of this, I think, started when Pat was twelve and my parents had an
extremely nasty divorce. I'm talking screaming and hollering and most
everything else you can think of. And for some reason Pat tried at
twelve years old to single-handedly put her parents' marriage back
together. Which obviously didn't happen. And my thinking is that
somewhere along the line when Pat should have been developing mentally
and
Right.
So that's how she's crazy.
Was there ever an official diagnosis of any sort?
Oh sure, they used the catch-all. It was schizophrenic, no paranoid schizophrenic. Like, "Sure isn't every one." It's kind of like going to the E. E. and T. doctor and he says "Oh you've got a deviated septum." Everyone that goes has a deviated septum. Well, that was a paranoid schizophrenic. I lived with some of those in Atlanta believe me, she was not a paranoid schizophrenic.
And how long was she at Butner for?
Oh Lord, a year, a little bit more, but when she came out she was
markedly better. And while she was at church a lady said, "You know,
I've got a friend. She's seeing a doctor named Barco for a chemical
imbalance." Well, she went, and on her first appointment with Dr. Barco
he was just furious. He said, "You've been in this condition for how
many years and nobody thought to check chemical
And if you'll give me one more second I want to turn that sprinkler off.
Sure.
[Getting up] Oh. Before the well runs dry.
Famous last words. [Sits down again] Okay?
Two more quick detail type questions.
What was the name of the restaurant you worked at after you quit your job at Memorial Hospital?
Cock of the Walk.
Where is that located?
It was, it's not anymore, where Page Road intersects Highway 70. I don't know what it is now, it's a great beautiful place, and that was very convenient because I lived on the other end of Page Road —
Right.
— so I could just drive to and from work.
What type of restaurant was it?
It was a theme restaurant. But their basic menu was, fried catfish, oh that was so good, chicken, and shrimp. And we — oh God — I think they were trying to get a riverboat, I'm not quite sure, feel to it. But all the waiters had to wear black pants, these red huge sleeved pullover shirts that had rawhide ties, and these awful black rimmed hats. Now that I think about it what I hated most was the outfit. So that was the fun part.
And how long did you stay there as a waiter?
A little over a year. I was a very good waiter, except, I have no eye-hand coordination. And one of our little deals was we would always bring out this miniature fry pan of cornbread, and part of the trick was the waiter would flip the cornbread at your table. I thought, "Oh shit, here we go again," every time a client sat down. I'd catch it half the time and the other half I didn't.
Another one, what department store did you say you worked at in the '70s as the display manager?
In the '70s as a display manager was, Baldwin's Department Store which is, or was, downtown on the corner of Main and Magnum. That was — like I said it was back in the early '70s when all the flared pants — all the stuff that's coming back now. And I just had to go around and keep all the displays in the store up to date and do all the advertising.
So it wasn't — which sort of advertising, the print or the in-store?
The in-store. Well, in-store and for the newspaper depending on which department was having a sale. I'd have to do the paste-up and get it to the newspaper.
So a little more than just display managing then?
Um-hm. I'd have been happier with the display manager part I think.
And what job did you have after that?
See, this was during school, so I probably went back to college. In and out, in and out. My first job after school, when I graduated, the first time, was at Piedmont Decorators, and that's where the woman was that I got invited into the Charismatic Renewal with. Oh God, I think I went from there to Montgomery Ward's.
What did you do there?
Interior design. What else did I do after that?
Were you doing interior design at Piedmont Decorators too?
That and then stock clerk, actually they hadn't been up enough, they needed a stock clerk more than they needed a designer. Oh I did the picture framing as well. Let's see. Montgomery Ward's, Eatman's Carpets. Eatman's Carpets I was the head of the drafting room, the drafting department, and we had to draw the blueprints up, not real blueprints, just the shape, and figure out how to lay the carpet for the carpet installers. And after that, I hired a woman named Hazel Robinson, and Hazel didn't put up with that shit for very long, it was not a pleasant place to work. And I come to find out that she was now at Memorial Hospital, and a woman I had worked with at Piedmont Decorators was there also. And Hazel called and said, "Bill I have got to get you out of that place; I've got a job opening, come try out for it, or come apply." And that's how I ended up at Memorial Hospital.
Um, what was your ex-wife's full name? What is?
[quietly] Is Jennifer or is Janice Lee?
And was she from Durham, or?
Oh yeah, she had lived on Page Road all of her life. In fact from my mother's kitchen you could look cattycornered way down into the woods and see her parents' home. So I'd known her for quite a while. [To Kent who has just come on the porch] Hiya.
Hiya.
Come out to read the paper? Okay.
Charlie?
Door's not open far enough. [The screen door creaks open and Kent goes to the swinging bench outside of the screened-in porch to read]
What is your psychiatrist's name?
The present one?
Yes.
Doctor Eunice Ngumba, N-G-U-M-B-A. She's from Kenya.
And what's Kent's full name
Kent Aubert A-U-B-E-R-T Otto
A-U-T-O?
O-T-T-O.
O-T-T-O. Okay. And one more.
Sure.
You mentioned that you were at Central University before it was incorporated. What was at like being at Central as a white student in those days?
Intimidating. Fortunately I didn't have any classes after dark, it means
I didn't have to go on campus at night. I think the best example was, in
my Hygiene class, which was a required course your first year. I finally
can no longer remember her name - the instructor would call the role and
she would go down and say, "Kent?" "Here." "Ashley?" "Here." "David?"
"Here." "Trisha?" "Here." "White?" It was like, oh
And during that period of time my siblings and I were still under the court order with the divorce that we had to spend every other holiday with Dad. I don't remember if it was Christmas or Thanksgiving, I think it was Christmas, and it was the year we had to go to Florida. And the only exam that would mess up was my Hygiene exam. So I went to Mrs. Whatever-her-name-was and said that and she said, "Well, here these are the directions to my house, come over Tuesday night and we'll talk about it." I said, "Oh. Okay." So I go to her house and she said, "Look I need to move this heavy piece of furniture will you help me?" I said, "Sure." So we moved this piece of furniture from one room to the other. And I said, "Now about my exam— " She said, "You just took it, I was going to give you a B anyway." And that was all there was. So it went from very scary to very comfortable.
The only time I really had any honest trouble was when the legislature was going to incorporate all the schools under one head, and most of the students left to go to that rally, but they gave me hell before they left. Things like put your books down to go to the bathroom, come back and your books are gone. Finally look around enough to find that they were in the trash can. I was like, "That's it, I'm out of here for today. Thank you." But like I said, after about two or three months things kind of settled down. I got used to things.
I can't remember my Speech teacher either but she always — and I hope it
was just because of the alphabet, school roll, class roll — she always
put me after this kid that no matter what the subject matter was he
always incorporated it into the Black Panther
Were most of your teachers black as well?
All the teachers I had were black. Um, and they were actually quite good. My Biology class was just one of the joys of my life. My art class was just amazing, with a local artist named Willie [Davis] — I knew I shouldn't have try the name. He was just amazing. He still exhibits at Centerfest. I can't think of his name. Anyway. He was extremely good. I learned a lot from him. So, yeah, it was, it was unnerving but good.
What about just in general in Durham, what were race relations like, do you think?
Very, very shaky. I was impressed with that group of rednecks that I went
to high school with. We were one of the first schools in Durham to be
integrated, to have kids bused. Now, unfortunately for them, there was a
family of blacks in the school district that's where they had to go all
the time anyway. They were the only three black people in the entire
school. It was a little tough, they rode my bus, and sometimes I had to
They integrated our school. We were the Southern Rebels. The mascot of the wall to the football field was the Old Rebel. And we didn't have confrontation once. No, there was no fighting, I mean it was about as smooth as it could be. The student body got together and agreed to change the mascot to the Spartans. The outsiders wanted us to really go at it. We would, frequently on Monday mornings, you'd drive down Ellis Road to school and there would be KKK placards all over every telephone pole. And it was dumb stupid stuff that I don't know how they could expect anyone to believe. One of them was that every thirteen seconds a white woman is raped by a black man. So we would just turn around and go back and one of us would start walking and just take them all down. And I was more impressed by the fact that the Grand Wizard lived right across the street from the high school and yet we still had no trouble. The other schools were a mess. You heard about fights, and knifings and I don't know what all. But we didn't have any problems at Southern Durham.
Were the kids that were bussed in from the county or were they from the city?
I think these were kids were also county kids. Just from different parts of the county, which meant of course they had to be bussed a lot farther.
Do you think that's one of the reasons why, do you think there would have been more problems if they had been city kids who were bussed in?
Possibly. I think that if nothing else everyone could identify with an
agricultural background. Because when it was time to take the tobacco
out of the barns
Right.
So yeah, I think that had a lot to do — that helped a lot.
And what do you think of the way race relations work now, in the city? Just because you do have that standpoint to compare it to.
I still think we've got a long long long long way to go. It's far from equitable. There's a — it's amazing to me that you can drive through any part of Durham you want and if there wasn't a living soul on the sidewalk, nobody you could see, you stop and go, "yeah this is a white neighborhood" — "this is definitely a black neighborhood." And nowadays I think the Hispanics have been forced into the same kind of place the blacks were, and still are to a degree. And I think there needs to be a lot of work done to kind of let everyone meld together, and find out we do have a lot in common. So I'd describe race relations in Durham as fair.
Was there any big change, do you think to you, between living in Durham and going to Atlanta to live? In terms of the way people live?
Oh definitely. 'Cause I was and eighteen-year-old kid who'd spent all of his — well the last five years — in the country. And then I got shoved in, well in the city, with city kids, city dwellers. We didn't go out after one o'clock in the morning, but you did in Atlanta, there was something going on all the time. In Durham in 1970 they rolled the sidewalks up about six o'clock.
They still do.
For the most part, you're right. Lord, in downtown Atlanta you could do something twenty-four hours a day. I guess the best example, my roommate and I got ripped one night, and about two blocks, three blocks from our house, there was a place called Piedmont Park. And so we're out there, high as a kite, swinging on the swings at one or two in the morning. And it's, oh okay, act straight, no giggling, no laughing. He said, "Gentlemen, do you realize how dangerous it is what your doing right now?" "No officer." He said, "You don't need to be in the park after dark, it's very dangerous, please go home." In Durham, you wouldn't think of going to the park at one in morning. Of course if you had, you probably would have been safer. So yeah, it was — I had a great deal of culture shock.
Was it more diverse or was it just more open?
Both. Much, much more diverse. The street my apartment was on, oh dear God, we had blacks, and Indians, and Native Americans, and Asians, I mean, it was like a little strip of the UN. It was good.
And then did you have that reverse culture shock when you coming back here again?
Kind of. It was more a case of, oh, I forgot about this. Um,
What about the city's relationship to the gay community, have you seen that change?
Here or Atlanta.
Both.
Atlanta was actually pretty good. In 1970 they had, oh God, gay bars and drag queens, everybody seemed the think, "oh fine." It took a long time to get that way in Durham. Although I was impressed that for a while we had the only gay bar in the Triangle. So I think Durham came about — developed better relations first, then Chapel Hill, then Raleigh. But as you know we still have a long way to go here.
And how was it back before you moved to Atlanta, like when you were in high school, and?
Oh God, you didn't dare let anyone suspect you were gay, at least I didn't. There was a kid — my foster brother graduated a year behind me because he failed a grade and he became fast friends with a kid, something Murray, oh God. Oh, this kid was flamboyantly gay. In fact, we had a day where students could dress anyway they wanted to — Ricky Murray — Ricky came to school, God, in these screaming red hot pants with suspenders, this white billowy — almost a blouse versus a shirt, and I don't remember what he had on his feet.
Have you ever seen a show called Are you Being
Served?
Yes.
He walked down the hall just like Mr. Humphries would. I was like, "No God, I don't know these people." He was teased a lot, I don't think there was ever any physical violence but there were certainly threats of it. And Ricky had the attitude I always wished I had which was "Mphttt. So what." Ricky could survive; I could not have dealt with that. So I just kept to myself, so quiet I even dated, had steadies, so no one would know. So it was tough, very tough. Ahhh, don't want to go there.
And now?
Oh, it's worlds better. Now I still have problems. I probably have the
most amazing internalized homophobia you've seen in years. When I was
talking with Thomas Sherratt who was the therapist who did me the most
good. I was pissing and moaning that if I did something then people
would know I was gay. And Thomas said the meanest, nicest thing anyone
has ever said to me, he said "Bill, if I was driving on the street and
saw you walking on the sidewalk, I wouldn't even slow down to wonder if
you were gay." And I stopped and I looked at him and said, "Evil queen."
And that kind of just, everything released. It was like "Okay, this is
who I am, this is the way I walk, this is the way I move, this is how I
like to dress. So it'll have to be." Mind you I'm not using any of the
four-letter words I'm thinking. And from there in it's been a lot
easier.
Now if I get in a room full of football jocks, I'm gonna butch it up a little bit. Or to the best of my ability. Just because of the old signal will kick in that "you're going to get hurt if you're not careful." I'll be very careful. My foster brother. Aye. He doesn't care. Anytime, anywhere, he doesn't care. In fact —
[END OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE B]
My foster brother would kill me — fortunately no one is going to hear
this. Randy has these huge brass balls, I'm sure. 'Cause he'll say
anything to anybody. And what he was turning red and getting so furious
about, there was an obvious football player and his little girlfriend a
little farther on down, and the girlfriend must have been staring. We
had to walk past that table to get out of the restaurant. I said,
"Randy, don't you dare embarrass me." He was just as cool and normal,
walked right by. Got right beside the table, plopped his elbows down,
got right in the girl's face, and said, "What's wrong girl, never seen a
live one before?" I thought, "Oh shit, we're both gonna die." And
instantly the boyfriend just literally fell out of the pew laughing, at
his girlfriend, not at us. And Randy just walked on, and I thought,
[hangs mouth agape]
I'd like to be able to do things like that. I have visions of having my throat cut; Randy goes, "They wouldn't dare." Okay, sorry about that, I just had to include that one little story.
Oh, that's fine.
In my adult life? Hmm, my best friend of the last thirty years, Elwood, my dad, which was a total turnabout where we went from threatening to taking each other to court to best friends before he died — As an adult, El, my dad, my mom, Kent, and my sister.
Could you talk a little bit more about how your relationship with your dad changed?
Um, yeah. When I was in therapy with Thomas Sherratt there was this
routine where you write everything to your parents you always wanted to
say, and you
Was it his heart attack? No. Oh God, no. My dad's fourth wife died suddenly. Dad had gone into his office. Jean had gone to bed; Dad came in shortly there after and found his wife dead. He gets on the phone to 911. They have this poor man drag this woman's body off on to the floor and try to give her CPR while they're on their way. We find this out, my siblings and I pile into my brother's car, and we drove this maniacal drive to Florida. And when I got there I found this man who was always in charge of everything, looking like a little kid lost in the mall. He was just distraught. Mike and Diane had to go back because they have kids, my sister had to go back because she had no way to get transportation. I said, "Guys, I cannot leave him like this." So, I stay for three weeks. And did everything, I wrote his checks, I paid the bills, I bought the groceries. Because he couldn't, he just couldn't. And before I left he sat down at the table with me and said, "Son, you have shown me that you're more of a man than I ever was, and every could be. And I respect you and love you for it."
And from there the relationship went up. So it was one of us have to prove to the other, and I didn't stay with him to prove anything, I just needed to, he needed me to.
And he had a heart attack as well?
Yeah that's the second time I went down and took care of him. I think that may have been what sealed it for him. That I would take time away from my job, being self-employed, and once again went down and looked after him. Yeah, I went down after everyone else left. My siblings went screaming down. I said, "I can't go now." And when everybody had left and Dad was on his own, then I went down.
And how long were you down there?
Oh Lord, probably a month. There was a gym just about four blocks down
from Dad and every time he'd take a nap I'd haul off to the gym. There's
lots of old people in this neighborhood. And every time and ambulance
would go by, I'd be like, "Oh God no." So I went down with much fear and
trepidation, and guilt.
But that's how we became best friends. In fact I've got, oh Lord I've got a stack this tall [about five inches] of letters and cards my dad wrote me. I read in Anne Landers once a woman talking about how she hated the fact that her kids wouldn't know her parents, and she suggested that people save letters from their parents. I thought, "I don't have any kids but why not." I can't read them yet, I mean Dad's been dead for four and a half years and I still can't read them. I can take them out and put them in chronological order, but I can't read them. I may never be able to read them, but I've got them. So that's kind of a part of him. So yeah, we were, it was good.
Did your relationship with your mother, did y'all ever reach the same friendship level?
No, it was a much more twisted relationship. We kind of needed each other. Actually we kind of needed each other and we kind of needled each other. Um, it befell on me to be the one to stay home and take care of Mom. Which I think is part of the reason I got married. Like I said, my mom was a very controlling tough person to live with. In fact, after my mom died, on my next trip down to my dad's at dinner, I said, "Dad, I owe you an apology. I blamed the whole divorce on you and I know now that Mom was hell to live with." And he just grinned. So no, we never got — we were close but in an entirely different manner. It was more of a needy, cloying to close type thing. In fact, several people, they'd go, "Bill, you're too close to your mother." It was like, "Beg your pardon?" They were right. It was just too much; it was smothering.
What is most important to you?
Oh God, um. Most important to me would be my faith, and my relationships.
Because they kind of interlock like
Without some faith I couldn't do it. And without people like him [points
to Kent] and Elwood and my sister, I couldn't do it. Those are my two;
those are the two most
You mean it helps give you some distance from it, or?
Yeah. I can spend a lot of time with them and it's like going on vacation. One of my favorite things about going on vacation is I don't have to be — I don't have AIDS there. I'm just having fun. When we go to Kent's sister's ranch in Texas, I don't have AIDS the whole time I'm there, not in here [touches head]. I still pop the pill, but I have so much other stuff to think about. And plan for and go do. I get back home, and I've got it agaion. And the general reaction is, "You're still here and you aren't any different; that's fine." [hiccups] Excuse me.
How often do you really think you get away and go on vacation?
For a goodly length of time. [hiccups] Pardon me.
That's all right.
Twice a year. I go away physically on a long weekend to the mountains and that's not — sometimes it does, sometime it doesn't. But I only take one; I only take a week off of work once a year. And that's when we go to his sisters. And I love it; I have a ball there. So no the rest of the time —
It's a little harder now, even than it used to be because, unless I do
this in front of the mirror [covers his cheeks with his hand] I know.
Because I've got nothing here [in his
Outside of those three really strong friendships that you have, do you have a network of friends outside that, or?
Or any that help a lot?
Yeah, but they're actually — they have dual purposes. Um, they're my
doctors and my counselors. Ahh, let's see. Come on Bill, Dorothy,
I've just learned from most of them not to tell them the truth about my
health. Because on the few occasions the ones that I've — they all
freaked. The first time after that I got sick in any way, I never saw
them again. So I don't tell people anymore. Which is fun when they go,
[in a shocked voice] "What happened to your face? Do you feel all
right?" It's like, "Mm-hm" And just go from there. Um, if they get real
pushy it's like, "Well it's a funky result, or side-effect of this
cortisone that I'm on." They go, "But cortisone usually make you puff
up." I go, "Yeah, but this one just made puff up here [his
Has it been hard for you, not being open with you clients at work, or do you think it's easier?
Now that I've gone through it I think it's easier. It allows us to keep thing fairly light, as though I don't need anything heavy. It also means that when I cut my finger while cutting hair, which is a real common occurrence. They don't suddenly go, "you're bleeding!" And freak. I just go, "Excuse me, I'll be right back, I'm not going to do a self-sacrifice here." Put a Band-Aid on it and fine. And therefore they're not going to freak. So yeah, it's much easier.
And your employer?
Oh yeah, he knows that would not have been fair. He owns the shop. And the thing that I have told him is, if I ever become a threat to the shop. I'll leave. And if this turns out to be TB I may have to. But I'm not going to burn that bridge 'till I get to it.
Right. And you find that out Monday?
Yes. But like I said that's the reason we are meeting out here, instead of in there.
Right.
This is an open space where any germs just float away.
Has this been — Have you had any other real health scares, or?
Yeah, I had a bout with intestinal flu that just scared me to death because it was two weeks long. And my doctor was you know, putting me on this for dehydration, and saying, "Let me know if you're unable to drink this much of this or eat this much of this, because we're going to have to hospitalize you." I'm not going to the hospital. A couple of pnumonias that have scared me a bit, but nothing major like some people I know, who've really had life-threatening disease. So hopefully, mine's going to stay this way. Yeah.
But you've never, you don't go to the hospital? You didn't get hospitalized for you flu?
I have never been hospitalized to date. Don't like hospitals.
You're doing better than me.
Don't like hospitals.
They're not fun.
Don't like hospitals.
I had to go to the hospital to get a brace for my back.
Aye, as long as it wasn't one of those, God I used to see them at Memorial, shoulder braces, metal rods up, this halo thing with the [sticks hands up mimicking the shape of the brace] —
Nah, no mine wasn't that.
It looks like something out of Frankenstein.
Mine was an over-protective camp person who
Put you on a back-board.
It was bad.
Oh, that was nasty.
Yeah, but I've been to the hospital many many times.
Well, sorry to hear it, glad I haven't.
Yeah, it's definitely a thing to avoid.
What else dear?
I think, do you feel like there's anything else that you need to clarify, or go back to that we talked about today?
Now if you get all that typed up and find you have more clarification, just call me.
Yeah, it took a while to type that first one, I'll tell you. I was like sixty-seven pages, I think. Because for that one I had to do a full transcript.
Oh God.
For this one, and when we do one more, I won't have to do a full transcript.
Oh good.
I think our professor wanted us to see what it was like to do the full transcript. So we would be thankful on the second and third one when we could do the abbreviated form.
Okay. I was going to say I wish you would have told me that I wouldn't have said one word that wasn't necessary.
Oh no, no. It's not a problem.
Good Lord.
Yeah so that's what I was doing last weekend. I was
I bet you were too, jeez.
It was a mess, but it was good.
Sixty-seven pages, okay.
It was good. All right, let's kill this.
END OF INTERVIEW