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| "Jim" preparing our meal in my shabby furnished apartment in Coatesville, PA circa 1963, a whole lifetime ago |
Ever wonder what happened to your first boyfriend?
Lately I've been reviewing my past life (I'm really old at 81 year now).
Sixty years ago when I was 21 years old was the first time I went to a gay bar.
The year was 1963 and I was recently out of the Army after a three year stint.
My first gay bar was actually in Clairton, Pennsylvania, near Pittsburgh. I lived in Pittsburgh for three months but was very lonely. I didn't know what was all involved in being gay, believe it or not. I'll go into that in a later blog post. I have gone into my gay awakening in previous blog posts but I can do it again for those who haven't read my old posts.
Anyway, I moved back to my hometown of Downingtown. I got an apartment in Coatesville, Pennsylvania, near my former home with my parents. I still wanted to get "involved" in the gay life but on familiar ground and with friends nearby. As I said before I was very lonely in Pittsburgh. I only went to Pittsburgh after I got out of the Army because a friend of mine from the Air Force lived there. I didn't want to come out near where my parents lived because I didn't want to embarrass them. Remember, this was the Bad Old Times when being a HOMOSEXUAL was illegal and a shame that a family just couldn't deal with.
After I got my apartment in Coatesville I began going to the Westbury Bar in center city Philadelphia at 15th and Spruce Streets with my friends Ed and Ron H. One night I met a very nice guy who was about three years old than me whose name was Jim Groh.
He liked me and I liked him. I don't remember the exact details of our first "time" but I do remember he didn't have a car nor did I. Coatesville is about forty-two miles west of Philadelphia. Jim would take the train out from Philadelphia on a Friday night and we would spend the weekend together at my dumpy, two room, furnished apartment in Coatesville.
We enjoyed each others' company. We would usually play board games, cook, take a walk and talk and of course get in bed together. For several months that worked for us but me, being a young ready to go gay guy just discovering himself, wanted to "go out" again. Jim was reluctant to go out, back to the bar but he relented under my pressure. It didn't go well.
When we were in the Westbury he wasn't going to let me met anyone else. He literally had me cornered in the bar. Way too protective. Oh no, I wasn't ready to settle down. Whatever you think of me, that's just the way I felt in those heady days.
A few weeks after that disastrous visit to the Westbury Bar I broke off our relationship.
The last time I saw Jim was at Broad and Chestnut Streets in Philadelphia. By then I was with Bill (who didn't mind me "going out"). I had some of Jim's water color paintings and he wanted them back which, of course I was going to return them to him. I had arranged to met Jim outside the bank where I worked at lunchtime. As I gave him his watercolor pictures I saw the sadness on his face. I've never seen him since.
The past year or so I've been recalling different episodes of my early life, wondering who was still alive. Almost all of my previous boyfriends have died. However, I think I found Jim. I did an Internet search and found a "James A. Groh" who lives in an apartment in Northeast Philadelphia. The age was appropriate (three years old than me) and the "A" in his middle name stands for "Alexander." I wrote him a letter and sent it to his address but I haven't received an answer. I'm still pretty sure that "Jim" is my "Jim" so I have to assume he doesn't want to reconnect.
In years past I have contacted previous friends, both amorous and just friends. Two responded but not in person. Both have since died before I really had a chance to talk to them to find out what their lives were like the past fifty years or so. One didn't respond but did let us know (he was Bill's friend before me) he didn't want to reconnect. He also has since died.
So I will make one more attempt to reconnect with Jim with this blog post. If you're out there Jim let me know. If not, I understand, you have moved on. But if you do read this blog post know that I always cared for you and have often thought of you over the years and wondered what kind of life you had. I have always appreciated the kindness and generosity you showed to me when I was a young, foolish and selfish twenty-one year old gay guy. I hope you have had a good and rewarding life. And by the way, I still have that forty-five place setting you gave to me for Christmas in 1963.
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| Jim and me horse playing. These are the only two photos I have of us. |