DECEMBER 1976 gay districts.

The situation is so chaotic that The Sentinel recently printed an editorial telling Rev.' Broshears "to just go away" demanding that "If our present gay community leaders do NOT provide constructive answers, then we must get new gay leaders. IF the present political leaders of San Francisco do NOT provide constructive answers, then we must get new politicians... Halloween is different from the elections. Let's keep them so!"

Gay San Francisco appears to be at a crucial crossroads. While millions of gay people look to it as a gilded shrine, increasing evidence suggests the only thing the city may have that no other comparable metropolis does is the numbers. And that's not enough.

While there are many social alternatives and services, a striking vacuum is evident in the consciousness of the S.F. gay populace. Gays there seem to be doing little about the in-bred sexism which psychologically crushes the "old," the obese, and the ugly (By GQ standards), and prevents human sexuality from flourishing unchained (a requisite to any gay mecca).

of In

Likewise, gay people seem to thrive in spite of the straight community instead harmony with it. There exist few, if any, forums of education and exchange. Soon, however, the mounting street violence may demand attention to this volatile negligence and forcibly shake the glass houses of some non interested gays.

gays. of so

SEARCHING

By T. W. Carroll

In my teens, growing up in rural southwest Ohio, and the psychological product of all that implies, the greatest desire of my life was to find someone to love. He would be a handsome, muscular, sensitive and creative man with whom I would share my innermost secrets. Someone who could teach me about myself, as only an intimate relationship can.

But for a young person sincerely reaching outward, confused, reaching inward, questioning, seeking new experiences and discovering new desires, no matter what the sexual preference may be, I believe Life will answer in proportion to the sincerity. Sounds philosophical, but it's suppose to. My searching took me to New York, but only for a summer of lessons in sociology one gets on Christopher Street.

1970, at the ripe age of twenty, found me in San Francisco. Oh, thank God for San Francisco. My life there was next to perfect. Finally, while many Ohioans A beautiful flat. Many, many criticize the small, allegedly friends. Still no love. The only "ineffectual" organizations in time I frequented bars and this our state, they might be remincould sound ridiculous to a San ded that size means nothing Franciscan was with friends, without a cementing spirit of and usually ended in a futile purpose. Gay San Francisco is attempt at meeting a trick (I've huge and bitterly divided with always hated that word). I'm a organizations which have shy person. My shyness, alienated many in the comhowever, left with the wind when munity. Cleveland, Toledo, I entered the baths, which I Akron, Columbus, and Cincinfrequented several times a week. nati may have smaller func-There I found all the sex I could tioning units, but they iron out their differences rationally and create change where it counts most at the grass-roots level.. In the long run, gay San Francisco's potential is remarkable, that is if it cares enough to clean house. It is a community which in many respects is a leader for America's gay minority.... San Francisco. It's a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.

Postcard

S. Blevins

I'm leaving you lover,

it won't be made out any different

than the way it is:

You were you. and I was me.

If you feel about me the way you say

why bring this new love your mention

to my attention?

Let me imagine you holy

as when I knew you

by only

what you said,

not what you did.

handle. There I experienced fantasies and learned sexual techniques I'd never dreamed of (or had I?). But still no love.

My friends, it seemed, all had a different lover every other month, as if on cue. But me, somehow I thought I must be different. Somehow my love was. special and must be reserved for hat special someone. I just couldn't throw my emotions in every direction. Seeing all those short-lived affairs, I resigned myself to a life of unemotional sexual encounters, and left love to Fate. After all, I reasoned, you don't plan to go out and fall in love. And you certainly won't find it in a San Francisco bath house. If it happens, my prayers would be answered. If not, well, I feel I can adjust.

HIGH GEAR

142's door was open, and there sat this handsome young man,, reading. Yes reading, and in 1. went. We kissed (something I rarely do with strangers however weird that may sound) and briefly held each other. I told him I was leaving and invited him home. He went with me, and he hasn't left yet.

Oddly, Tony had never been to a bath house in his life. He'd only recently learned of them while hitching in Alameda County, a brief encounter in a Ivan in the Oakland hills.

Then I met Tony. It was Sunday morning, January 13, 1974. I was preparing to leave 132 Turk Street (the Club Turkish Baths) and make my way home to spend the day at the piano. But something stirred

We spent that Sunday together, and he called me the next day. We got together several times during the week. For me, I had found an equisite sexual partner. To him, I was an' introduction to the San Francisco gay world. But the several weeks that followed found us together constantly and one morning I awoke with such an overwhelming rush in my soul I was trembling. Is this feeling love? Is this what it's suppose to feel like? If it isn't love, what is it? You can't answer a lifetime question too easily in a matter of moments.

inside and I put on my towel to make one final search of the many rooms at the Club, Room

Today, sitting here in Cincinnati, I can answer those questions. It is love like I have never dreamed love could be. It is wonderful, fantastic, awesome, mysterious and fullfilling. It is superlative, glorious, priceless and rewarding.

Now, nearly three years later, we are still together every moment we are not working. We do everything together from our daily showers to running to the corner store for a tomato. Our relationship hasn't lost its charm nor adventure. In fact, it is getting stronger as we watch each other change and grow.

Early this year Tony discovered he has cancer. He has had major operations and will undergo treatments. He has to take pills to stay alive. But we have each other, and no amount of social disapproval, financial woes, or any combination of difficulties couples everywhere face will interfere with our love for each other. God has indeed answered my prayers.

I feel lucky, for lack of a better word, when I see others searching. And if I may close this brief account with any kind of advice to my brothers and sisters, it would be this: It's not in the searching, but in the sincerity.

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