Life & Times Thru My Eyes…: Coming out with "Friends"

By Robert Seybold

My name is Bob, which I prefer over Robert William Seybold Jr. I wrote this book because I wanted my family and friends to know from my mouth that I am gay and was born this way. I had no choice in the matter. I have had to hide this from the people I love, afraid I would lose them once they heard from me personally. They probably have been in denial over my life, guessing and betting that they were right. It was and is my business, but I needed to let them know my side of the story. All my life I had had to hide the truth with employers, family, and friends. Coworkers included. I did not want to be fired or hated. Fear is a terrible thing! So I tried to make my life something special, which I accomplished by writing this book, Life and Times through My Eyes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493106301

Robert Seybold

Robert W. Seybold Jr. is now in his early seventies and is living in Lafayette, Indiana, where he was born. He lives alone and is a very happy individual. Writing this story was enjoyable because it brought back so many memories. Robert prefers to be called Bob. Bob has lived in eight major cities and states, making a great many friendships in each. This is his second book. The first is entitled Life & Times through My Eyes. This book is about personal friends he met in two Southern states. The people are real, but the story is not. It’s titled The Case of Twin Murders: As Seen through My Eyes. Bob may be contacted at [e-mail].

Book preview

11677.png

Copyright © 2013 by Robert Seybold.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013917581

ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-4931-0629-5

Softcover 978-1-4931-0628-8

Ebook 978-1-4931-0630-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

A nonfiction, true story, sort of a letter to my friends and family, and who knows, if they even dare, a personal memoir.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

Rev. date: 10/11/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

135358

The richest man is not he who has the most, but he who needs the least.

What it is like to be out of the closet in America at this time of life…

(Coming out with friends and family)

Dedicated to

Juanita R. Lister, my beloved Aunt

Kenneth D. Nice, my Uncle and friend

Marsha Shavitz Malot, a longtime friend since grade school

Acknowledgements

I wish to thank my Aunt for being her. She will no doubt confirm and finally acknowledge me for being me.

I wish to thank my Uncle who has known the truth about me since I was ten years old.

I wish to thank my dear friend Marsha who has probably known my story since grade school.

Preface

Who am I to introduce such a wonderful life experience in a little nonfiction novel? I am in my very early seventies. I am a male and single. Does that give you an idea of who I am? Keep reading if you want to meet people that I have met. Elizabeth Taylor, Joan Crawford, and Dinah Shore are just a few of the famous that I found myself in the presence of. Oh, I know they are dead. But their memory sticks into my mind forever, and I’d like to share them and many others with you. Therefore, a part of them will live on with you as well as always with me—this, along with my life and travels. I’ve lived in eight cities through the years, and I’ll share my adventures. I have followed my bliss. It is an indelible romance of the twentieth-century gay man who, in the greatest thrall of tumescent temptation and a glittery world at youthful feet, has never lost sight of remorseless mortality and has the guts to spell it all out. And what a life—famous people, a golden and hidden life! I am a free spirit and proud of it (now). Would not take anything for my journey in life. It has been a life worth living.

Bette Davis titled her autobiography This ’N That. It is by a superstar and an extraordinary human being. It is full of fabulous anecdotes as well as opinions pro and con on a wide range of subjects. Perhaps I should have entitled mine by the same title. The resemblance is certainly there. It is not the having; it is the getting—my way of life.

I started off as a blue baby and came out of the womb almost dead. I started off being a little different. I managed to survive with the help of the doctors and nurses at St. Elizabeth Hospital in Lafayette, Indiana, in 1941. It was just a few months from Pearl Harbor Day. Then at around four years of age, my family moved me to Evansville, Indiana, where I grew up and went to college at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana. Peoria, Illinois, was the next stop. I then went back to Evansville; back to Peoria; on to Omaha, Nebraska; then the Windy City, Chicago; and then south to Birmingham, Alabama. I continued on to Atlanta, Georgia, and then the big move to New Jersey. Then I found my way back to Lafayette, Indiana—my final move, perhaps (?). I have followed my bliss.

It has never been important to me where I made my home. It will become obvious the more my story develops. Somehow, I always knew I would be a happy person no matter where I lived. We make our own happiness. I knew this at a young age. One evening my father asked me what I wanted in life. He had had a few drinks. My mother was also present, but she kept quiet. She knew my father. He asked me what I wanted out of life, looked at me in the eyes, and asked the question again. I answered, To be happy. His answer to me was Is that all you want? while sipping his martini. Then, son, I sincerely hope you find yourself always as a happy person for all of your life.

I think that sums it up. For the most part, my life has been happy. After some seventy-odd years, I have remained a contentedly happy individual. One makes his or her own happiness. No one can make it for you. It solely depends on you. You can choose not to be a happy person. Some people do just that. I would rather smile than frown through life. Although I would remain a happy person. No one could change that. Not even my father. He drank a lot and also smoked. People told me that he was jealous of me. I ignored what was said until later in life. No matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough in his eyes. In my mind, he was wrong. Of course, I was wrong in thinking that. I was young and trying to find myself. Later I loved my father, although I did not see him that often. As time went on, I respected him. When I did see him, it was on a business level, like on a business trip, because of our mutual occupations. On meeting, we would always hug and kiss no matter who was looking. I never once blamed him for anything he did to me. He once told me that he had done the best he could. He said, After all, I had never raised another child.

That probably is not the truth. He was married before and had children. According to my beloved grandmother, my father had been married before and had children—something she told me when I was young. I barely remember her exact words. Later in life, I asked my Aunt Juanita and uncle Kenny about the matter. They both confirmed that my father had another family. Neither could confirm if he had married previously. It has not affected me in the least. I still love my father no matter what.

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. What we are is God’s gift to us. What we become is our gift for God.

Introduction

My name is Bob, which I prefer over Robert William Seybold Jr. I wrote this book because I wanted my family and friends to know from my mouth that I am gay and was born this way. I had no choice in the matter. I have had to hide this from the people I love, afraid I would lose them once they heard from me personally. They probably have been in denial over my life, guessing and betting that they were right. It was and is my business, but I needed to let them know my side of the story. All my life I had had to hide the truth with employers, family, and friends. Coworkers included. I did not want to be fired or hated. Fear is a terrible thing! So I tried to make my life something special, which I accomplished by writing this book, Life and Times through My Eyes .

I lived my life my way, and I am proud of it. My only regret is that often I had to lie about my lifestyle. I invented a story that remained consistent: I had been married and had two girls. My wife passed away of MS ten years ago. No matter when I was asked, it was always ten years ago from then. All employers and coworkers were told the same story. It stopped speculation for most people. Of course, family members knew that I was either a bachelor or an old maid who never married. In order to survive, I created my own life, not wanting to hurt anyone in the process. I moved around, met famous people, and had numerous jobs (or positions) as I preferred. Being gay to me meant living a celib life for over twenty-five years. No sex with anyone. I have that curse, but I am still alive. Many of my close friends are gone. I have lost so many through not being careful of getting the dreaded AIDS virus. I did not turn straight. I turned to other things that made me happy. Not having a child is a regret in some ways. I’m afraid I was too selfish in wanting things that meant a lot to me and that I did not have to share. Instead, I have had dogs and birds all my adult life. They made me happy without having to send them to college.

When I was a young man, I decided to explore the world. One evening, I packed up my belongings and began hitchhiking—something one would not think of today. But I was young and confused about who I was. I needed to find out so I could go on with my life.

It was in the summer, and I was living in Peoria. It was my sophomore year of college. I did not know if I wanted to go back to Bloomington to Indiana University. College really did not suit me, I thought at the time. Besides, my parents had gotten a bank loan to pay for my education. They were not wealthy, so I felt very guilty about it all. I was the first person in our immediate family to ever go to college. Thinking back on the entire thing, I now admire my parents for such a sacrifice.

I remain the only family member to attend college except for my cousin Angie. She went even futher. She is a very talented person, who will succeed in what ever endever comes her way.

One evening, my brother and I were doing the dinner dishes. We had planned on going to the drive-in theater after we finished. My brother dropped a dish on the floor. It crashed and sounded pretty loud. Our parents were in the basement. My father yelled up the stairs something like, If you boys cannot do better than that, then do not count on going to any movie. Well, that was all I needed as an excuse. I went to my room as soon as we finished with the dishes. I started automatically to pack up my belongings. I did not even have to think. It just came to me to get out and not say good-bye. I just left. I did not even think of where I would go or how I would go. With one pretty heavy suitcase, I began to hitchhike in the darkness of Peoria, Illinois. Somehow I was headed south. With my thumb out, I was determined to catch a ride. Sure enough, a rather late-model car pulled over, and I got in. I was a soldier on his way to California, to Camp Pendleton to be exact. He was about twenty-four and super good-looking. He was obviously straight, and I would not have known what to do anyway. I was too new in the game to pursue a straight guy. He was a very nice guy. He never asked me why I was hitchhiking. Of course, I told him anyway. It sort of bonded us. We drove on Route 66, stopping only to get gas, which, of course, he paid for. In those days, there was not any fast-food place to stop and get something to eat, like a McDonald’s. So we just kept driving on our way to California, usually talking and conversing about our lives. To this day, I cannot recall his name or where he was from.

The closer we got to the border of California, the more excited I got. All my life I had dreamed of being in California. He knew I did not have much money, and so he drove me directly to Hollywood. I did not have to ask. I got out at a bus station. Little did I know that it was where you would go to meet other gay people in those days. Greyhound bus stations were notorious for homosexuals to meet and do their thing. Glory holes were the in thing in those days. They were places where you could hide your being gay. In fact, one could hide their entire body except for the hole where you stick your member.

It was not difficult to get another ride. After all, it was California. Where did I want to go? The place I had heard of the most: Malibu, or even Santa Monica. Well, I ended up alone in Santa Monica. The first thing I heard was that Shirley Temple lives down there near the ocean. It seemed like a dream, being in California and hearing such things as Shirley Temple’s house is just around the corner. I began to walk the sidewalk as close as I could get to Shirley’s house. A tall, dark, and handsome man told me he would like to take me to have a drink of some kind. He said I looked like I could use an ice-cold drink. In those days, having a Coke meant the soft drink. He looked clean and well dressed. And he was paying for the Coke. What did I have to lose? I did not have the money anyway. I was naive enough to take this good-looking boy-man up on his invitation. After all, I did not have any money to take myself for a Coke. Somehow, I knew that I could get what I wanted, especially in the Hollywood area. Money was never on my mind. Today, it would be a major consideration. We went for a Coke at a nearby drugstore. In those days, all drugstores had a soda fountain. This was not the famous drugstore where Lana Turner was made famous. He seemed very pleasant and interested in me. I suppose it should have been obvious to me that he was trying to do with me what he wanted. I did not mind. After all, I did not even have a place to stay for the evening. It did not enter my mind what I would do or where I would sleep. It is funny looking back on this. I did not worry. After a nice conversation, we ended up going to his house, which was only a few blocks away. It was an apartment but in a good neighborhood with clean surroundings. The furnishings were modest but clean. It was not long before he showed me the one room—the bedroom. I was not quite sure of what to do next, so I let him make the moves. I was sure he would anyway. First, it was a kiss on the cheek. It was not my first kiss by a man but my first by a stranger. To make a long afternoon short, he knew the moves to make. And I followed with what he wanted. It paid off. I got a free meal and room and board for a week. While he went to work, the house was mine, and outside was a beautiful ocean with a sandy beach to be enjoyed any way I wanted.

After all these years, I did not get to be a star or become famous or get my name in lights or even get