LGBT Stories

The summer that I turned 18 was a time that I will remember all my life. I had just graduated High School in June and had been working horses for a friend of my dad most of the summer. I was making $75.00 a week, which was big money for a summer job in the late 60’s, most boys my age were making about $50.00 a week.

I guess I was small for my age at five foot five inches tall and about 120 if I was soaking wet, wearing boots, and coveralls with a barn coat. My red curly hair shone in the summer sun like a brand new penny and I had freckles all over my face, arms, and back. As a matter of fact, even most of the small horses I was working with that summer were bigger than me, and the bigger ones could have probably stomped me into the ground if I had let them have the upper hand.

All told, there were five of us boys working for Mr. Williams as wranglers, plus his son Billy who was 14, working the horses in the show ring, washing them down, cleaning stalls, and so forth, to get them ready for the County Fair, which would be the first week in August. Of the five of us “hired hands,” only three of us knew how to ride, so we had to teach the other two how. Stanley, Jack, and I were the riders in the group. This was Stanley’s second summer working there, and Jack’s fourth. Jack and I were both the same age, and Stanley was just a year younger, but Danny and Martin were both two years younger than me, which made them just 16. I would have sworn that Billy was born in a saddle, because that boy could do things on a horse that I had only seen done in Westerns, and at the Circus.

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It started out like any other family celebration. I had driven into to the country to spend time with my family celebrating my niece’s high school graduation. I don’t come back home very often. I grew up on a farm in a small town, but now I’m a city boy through-and-through. Ever since I came out of the closet, I knew that my hometown was way too small for me, both in geography and mindset. I’m a reasonably attractive 29-year-old gay man, and I know that the real action is to be found in the city. Still, my country upbringing instilled good values and a strong sense of self. But I digress… I was telling you about my niece’s graduation day.
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Back in the sixties, my dad had a small ranch in
central Arizona. My older brother and myself were the
principal hands on the place. My dad also owned and
ran a Richfield service station in town, and was gone
from the ranch most of the time. We raised a few pigs
for our own meat, and ran a few head of cattle we
fatted up and sold for extra income. The usual
chickens, turkeys, rabbits and all were kept for our
Sunday dinners. We also raised a garden.
We had a woman who came in to keep house for us, and
she tended the garden and put food by either in Ball
jars, or in the freezer. She never said much, and
kept to herself most of the time.

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