With only a few hundred dollars in my pocket, a friend put me up for my first two weeks after I arrived in L.A in 1984. I was 35.
Before this, I had made myself a millionaire by age 27, was married, owned major property, had a creatively inspired unique restaurant, a solar greenhouse, plus numerous other endeavors in the works. I was admired, popular and well liked. But I had been hiding my true personality. I was gay. When my real personality finally raised its fiery dragon head for freedom, in a red necked city in the early 80s, where friends I’d known for twenty years refused to acknowledge me, I dive crashed.
One scorched earth experience followed another as I burned out any love, I had made for myself. It wasn’t pretty. I reached rock bottom and couldn’t accept myself. I hid from public for over a year, and I resented everything about coming out. In the end, with nothing to lose and winter approaching, (it was September) I packed up the few clothes I had left and headed south. I told myself, I wasn’t going to stop until I felt warmth. The coldness of life had taken a toll on me.
I arrived just after the Olympics, and Los Angeles was warm. It was the first warmth of any kind I had felt in the last three years, and it was from the sun. It felt so, so good.
Reality set in quickly though, and the friend I was staying with, soon let me know, that my staying there, was coming to an end. I called another friend back home and he agreed to purchase the last of anything I owned and wired $2500. to me. With that money I was able to get a cheap one room studio at the newly renovated Dicksbourgh, on Beverly Boulevard for $450.00/month, with $900.00 down for security and last month’s rent. The room had a murphy bed, sink, bathroom and ceiling fan. I had to buy a small used bar fridge, hot plate, sheets, pillow and towels to finish it off. I was a block away from Vermont Boulevard and the evenings were filled with unending road noise, helicopter fly overs with search lights, police sirens and gunshots. But I was excited to begin a new chapter in my life.
It was a few months after my move-in, when I had a lucid dream that felt so real, I felt it programmed itself into my DNA.
I was riding a horse beside another unknown rider. The horses were thin and weak; one pale brown, and the second a darker brown. We were driving a small herd of cattle through a desert. Small tufts of grass were visible that the cattle tried to eat. Weak cattle showed skeleton outlines of their bones underneath their hides.
As we rode through the desert, the view became increasingly desolate. There was blowing sand, the grass disappeared and the color of everything became a bleak dull brown. The further we rode into the desert, the more the cattle and horses lost weight. So much so, that the bones of the cattle started to protrude through their hides. Some cattle collapsed and died.
Then, out of nowhere, we came to a fence with a glowing pristine white gate. I looked across to the other side, but the blowing sand and desolate view was the same. Then, from the silence came a strong definitive voice. “Come in, there is plenty here”. As soon as the voice stopped, the gate slowly opened. I took another look into the desolation ahead, and then turned to the other non-descript rider and said, “Well, we may as well go ahead. It can’t be any worse than what we’ve been through”.
We began to move the cattle forward. Bits of grass became visible and began growing from the barren sand. The amount of grass increased as the cattle crossed the fence line. The horses and the remaining cattle began to eat and slowly regained their normal weights. While the grass continued to grow, the bleak brown color disappeared over time and slowly morphed from a sandy green, into a bright emerald green. The grass grew so much that the animals disappeared from sight, and from the rider’s view, all you could see was movement in the grass.
That dream was close to forty years ago, and at the time, I thought I’d just look for the ‘white gate’ and things would fall into place. After having lost everything at home, I was hell bent on reclaiming the life I had before. I got a job within a week that I could walk to, and I put an application in for a green card as my mother was American. The green card took over four years to acquire.
This brings me to the two boxes. As I began sifting through the contents of each modern-day time capsule, I realized a pattern akin to the dream. I felt and could see the dream sequence unfolding before my eyes. These were the desert years, and I didn’t even realize I was in a desert. I guess the thing that prevented me from seeing I was in a desert was that I loved the work I was doing. And the second thing that saved me during this period was my naivete.
Those two boxes were filled with memories. Each time I received a card, be it birthday, Holiday, bereavement, letters, get well or for any unusual circumstance, it went into the boxes. There were thousands. This was mostly before computers, emails, text messages and social media took away meaningful heartfelt communication, and the magic that matched the element it was written on. The letters were long and there were ‘feelings’ you could read between the lines. The cards depicted the message sent and heightened it’s meaning. There were also thousands of photographs, mementos, airline ticket receipts and even my stamp collection from the ’50s, which I had completely forgotten.
I took the time to re-read all of the letters and cards twice. And, as I finally threw them away, I felt different. Negative and painful memories, regrets and actions I wish I had done differently, were purged in a very rapid way. Beautiful memories were imbedded. But it was, overall, a freeing experience. The photographs of which there were numerous duplicates, I’m scanning and uploading into the cloud and placing on a memory stick with notes.
During this period, I discovered I lived in at least ten different locations, according to addresses I found on the envelopes. Most of these before the year 2010. I do remember working all the time and getting deathly ill a few times where I went down to 120 pounds in weight. I worked to survive. It was endless struggle. Many of the cards and letters were from friends who have passed. Some natural causes, some from AIDS (many regrets there) and some from suicide. That realization alone makes you look at life differently. Personal cards and letters from family brought tears to my eyes, as I realized hidden messages, concerns and caring I had missed.
Even through these desert times however, I was generous with my time, feelings and what money I did have with others, maybe too kind, too trusting and because of this I was taken advantage of many times. Especially in the relationships I encountered. Lessons. Serious life lessons. An introduction and journey into the seven vices of man on any and every level. Some of these memories I will talk about later.
Did I come to the ‘white’ gate? Not physically, but I do know I’m on the other side of that gate. The grass is green and it’s starting to grow.