Gay

Unbreakable Love: Lynn and Trisha’s Journey Through Decades of Heartache

Featured2 Comments

Part I: A Blooming Love

In the small, picturesque town of Elmwood, where traditions ran deep, and change was a slow, meandering stream, Lynn and Trisha found each other amidst the rustling leaves of adolescence. The year was 1974, when the world was still catching up to the notions of freedom and acceptance we now hold dear.

Lynn, with her red hair and curious green eyes, was the daughter of the town’s librarian. She spent her days buried in books, finding solace in stories that took her far beyond the confines of Elmwood. On the other hand, Trisha was the spirited daughter of a local fisherman in Seaside, a neighboring town. Beaming with golden hair and bright blue eyesthat mirrored the ocean, she was a breath of fresh, salty air. The scent of fish and saltwater, the sound of seagulls, and the feel of sand between her toes were all part of Trisha’s essence.

They met on a summer day during the annual Elmwood-Seaside fair. Lynn was helping her mother at a book stall when Trisha walked by, her laughter catching Lynn’s attention. ‘What’s so funny?’ Lynn asked, her curiosity piqued. Trisha turned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘Oh, just a silly joke I heard,’ she replied. Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, an unspoken connection was forged.

‘Do you want to explore the fair together?’

Lynn found herself asking. Trisha nodded, and they spent the rest of the fair together, sharing secrets and dreams and eventually a tender kiss behind the carousel.

Their love blossomed in secret, as the world around them would never understand the depth of their feelings. They met in hidden glades, exchanged letters, and carved their initials into the old oak tree by the riverbank. But the shadow of societal expectations loomed large. Their clandestine meetings became increasingly fraught with danger and tension as the years passed. They were constantly on edge, fearing discovery and the consequences it would bring. Yet, they persevered, their love growing stronger with each obstacle they overcame.

One fateful night, an acquaintance saw them kissing, and their secret was discovered. The backlash was swift and unforgiving, a harsh reminder of the societal norms they had dared to challenge. Trisha’s parents, staunch traditionalists, sent her away to live with relatives in Flursville, far from the reach of Lynn’s love. Lynn’s parents, heartbroken and confused, forbade her from contacting Trisha. The two girls, now young women, were torn apart, their hearts left aching with the sudden void of each other’s absence.

Part II: A Lifetime Apart

As the years turned into decades, Lynn, unable to shake off the memory of her first love, immersed herself in her studies and eventually became a successful author. She wrote under a pseudonym, and her stories were often tinged with the bittersweet essence of lost love and yearning. She remained in Elmwood, surrounded by the familiar but always haunted by Trisha’s absence. Her heart, though scarred, still held a flicker of hope, a belief that one day, they would be together again.

Trisha, in Flursville, married out of societal pressure but found no real happiness. Her husband, though kind, could never fill the void Lynn had left. She had two children, poured her love into them, and eventually opened a small bookstore, a tribute to the memories of those sunlit afternoons spent with Lynn. Her thoughts often wandered back to Elmwood, the oak tree by the riverbank, and the girl with brown hair and green eyes. She often found herself wondering what life would have been like if they had been allowed to be together, her heart aching with the unanswered question. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t escape the feeling that something was missing from her life, a void that could only be filled by Lynn.

Part III: Reunited Hearts

It was the summer of 2004 when fate intervened. Lynn’s father passed away, and she returned to Elmwood to settle his affairs. She was now a middle-aged woman, her hair streaked with grey, her eyes still holding the spark of youth. One day, sorting through her father’s belongings, she found a box of old letters, including the ones she had written to Trisha but never sent.

On a whim, she decided to visit Seaside. Walking along the familiar paths, she felt the weight of memories. She stopped by the beach, where the waves kissed the shore, and there, amidst the crowd, she saw her. Trisha, older but still radiant, was there with her grandchildren. Their eyes met once more, and time seemed to stand still. The world around them faded into the background, leaving only the two of them, their love, and the years they had spent apart. In that moment, all the pain and heartache of their separation was washed away, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging.

Lynn approached, her heart pounding. “Trisha?”

Trisha turned, her blue eyes widening in recognition.

“Lynn?” She whispered,

tears welling up.

They embraced, years of longing and love pouring out in that single moment. They talked for hours, sharing their lives, their losses, and their lingering love. The world had changed, and the acceptance they had longed for was now within reach. The weight of their past struggles seemed to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and joy. They were finally together, and nothing else mattered.

Part IV: A Love Rekindled

With renewed courage and societal acceptance, Lynn and Trisha decided to live the life they had always dreamed of. Lynn moved to Flursville, where Trisha’s children welcomed her with open arms. They bought a little house by the sea, filled it with books and memories, and planted an oak tree in their garden, symbolizing their enduring love. The world had changed, and the acceptance they had longed for was now within reach. Society had evolved, becoming more inclusive and understanding, allowing them to finally be together without fear or judgment.

Once hidden in the shadows, their love story blossomed in the open, a testament to the power of love and the strength of the human spirit. They spent their days writing, exploring, and cherishing every moment together. They were no longer bound by societal constraints, free to love and live as they pleased. Their love, once a secret, was now a beacon of hope for others, a shining example of the enduring power of love.

Lynn and Trisha’s story became an inspiration and a beacon of hope for many. In a world that had once tried to keep them apart, they finally found their forever, together.

Pride Parade Heroism: Bud and Jake’s Unbreakable Bond

FeaturedLeave a comment

Bud and Jake, two inseparable friends since childhood, shared a bond that was as strong as the fields and stables of their small hometown. As the sun came up on a crisp Saturday morning, they loaded their old pickup truck with supplies and hitched up the horse trailer, ready for the adventure ahead. Inside the trailer, their beloved horses, Star and Blaze, stood patiently, saddled, and prepared for the parade in Cleo Springs.


The air was charged with anticipation as Bud and Jake embarked on their journey, the Pride Flag they’d carefully packed fluttering in the wind. This year, they were resolute in their decision to ride in the parade and demonstrate their unwavering support for equality and love in all its forms. The flag, a beacon of their indomitable spirit, symbolized their commitment to standing up for what they believed in, no matter the odds.


As they drove along the winding country roads, their conversation was light and full of laughter. They reminisced about past adventures and planned the day ahead. However, their joy was short-lived. Out of nowhere, a car screeched to a halt in front of them, forcing Bud to slam on the brakes. Before they could react, two men with hardened faces and a menacing air approached the truck, guns drawn.


“Out of the truck, now!”

One of the thugs barked, his voice rough and commanding. Bud and Jake exchanged a glance, understanding the gravity of the situation. They complied, stepping out slowly with their hands raised.


“We don’t want any trouble,” Jake said calmly, trying to diffuse the tension.

The second thug, his eyes cold and calculating, shoved Bud roughly against the truck.

“We need a ride, and this truck and trailer will do just fine, the first thug snarled.

“Get in the back, and don’t try anything funny.”


With their hands tied behind their backs, Bud and Jake were forced into the truck’s bed, their hearts pounding with fear and uncertainty. The thugs climbed into the cab, and the old pickup roared back to life, veering off the main road and onto a remote, deserted path.


As the miles stretched on, Bud and Jake’s minds raced, searching for a way out of their predicament. They knew they couldn’t let these criminals escape, especially not with their horses. Bud caught sight of the Pride Flag, still within reach in the truck bed. An idea began to form.

“Jake,”

Bud whispered, his voice barely audible over the engine’s rumble.

“When I give the signal, we need to act fast. Trust me.”


Jake nodded, his eyes filled with determination. As the truck slowed to navigate a particularly rough patch of road, Bud made his move. With a swift motion, he grabbed the flag and lunged at the nearest thug. Jake followed suit, using his body to knock the second thug off balance.
The struggle was fierce but fleeting. Bud and Jake, fueled by adrenaline and their unbreakable bond, managed to overpower the thugs and secure them tightly with the Pride Flag. Panting and bruised, they confined the criminals in the back of the truck, a testament to their courage and resilience.


Bud climbed into the driver’s seat, and Jake took a moment to check on the horses, who, though agitated, were unharmed. With renewed purpose, they headed back toward the main road, the thugs’ angry curses silenced by the engine’s roar.


As they neared Cleo Springs, the sight of the parade brought a wave of relief and triumph. They pulled up to the sheriff’s station, where sheriff’s deputies quickly took the thugs into custody. Hearing of their harrowing ordeal, the townspeople greeted Bud and Jake with cheers and admiration.


With the crisis behind them, Bud and Jake joined the parade, and their Pride Flag symbolized their resilience and courage. Riding side by side on Star and Blaze, they waved to the crowd, their hearts full of pride not just for who they were but for what they had overcome together. The parade continued to celebrate love, unity, and the indomitable spirit of friendship.

Neglected In The Streets – Except for Jim and Steve – Friendly Hotel’s LGBTQIA+ Security Team

FeaturedLeave a comment

The Friendly Hotel, renowned for its around-the-clock security and welcoming atmosphere, primarily serves LGBTQI clientele. It features a restaurant and two nightclubs that cater to the gay community, making it a popular destination.

The front desk was abuzz with guests checking in on a bustling Saturday night. The diligent clerks worked hard, assigning rooms and ensuring the correct amenities. Meanwhile, security guards Steve and Jim began their shift at 8 PM. Their initial task was to patrol the Hotel’s perimeter, ensuring the safety of all guests, particularly the LGBTQI community. They also made regular rounds at the nightclubs, maintaining a vigilant presence.
Steve and Jim were not just part of the Hotel’s security team but also recognizable figures in the community. Their reliability and assured presence brought peace and safety, reassuring guests and visitors alike.


As long-time officers at the Friendly Hotel, Steve and Jim were known for their no-nonsense approach. They wouldn’t tolerate any arguing or resistance, often telling it like it was and swiftly ejecting or arresting troublemakers. This firm handling of security contributed to the secure feeling that drew many guests to the Hotel.


On this particular Saturday night, a group gathered outside the hotel gates, shouting anti-gay slurs at guests. Due to their location, Steve and Jim couldn’t move them but kept a watchful eye, urging visitors to avoid the area for safety.


Around 2 AM, the crowd had dwindled to six individuals, who positioned themselves on both sides of the street in front of the Hotel. The street led to other nightclubs nearby, and patrons often walked between these clubs and the Hotel. Steve and Jim reported the dangerous situation to local police, warning that assaults could occur. However, the police did not respond.


At 2:39 AM, Steve and Jim, standing near the street on hotel property, saw two guests leaving the Hotel and heading towards other clubs. Suddenly, the six individuals attacked the two men with pipes, brass knuckles, and other weapons, striking them in the head, stomach, ribs, and legs. The two men collapsed, unconscious and bleeding heavily, as the attackers shouted anti-gay slurs.
Steve and Jim rushed to apprehend the assailants, capturing five of them. They handcuffed the suspects and seated them on the sidewalk. Recovered weapons included nunchucks, brass knuckles, metal bars, mace, knives, and a shuriken.


The victims remained unconscious and continued to bleed profusely. The guards tried to apply pressure with whatever supplies they could find. Jim radioed the front desk to call the police, ambulance, and fire rescue. Steve asked if anyone in the crowd had medical training, but no one stepped forward. Emergency services took over thirty minutes to arrive, a typical response time in the gay community during the 80s and 90s.


When the fire department and ambulance finally arrived, they refused to touch the victims. Steve and Jim had to load the victims onto the stretchers and into the ambulances themselves, applying bandages to stop the bleeding. The police department sent only one unit, and the suspects were released a block away without charges. The police filed an incomplete report, and a follow-up investigation concluded insufficient information to pursue further action.


The two assault victims got so severely beaten that they had to be placed in medically induced comas for a week to reduce brain swelling. They lost most of their teeth, had their noses broken, orbital eye sockets crushed, chins broken, and ribs fractured. One suffered a punctured lung, and the other nearly lost an ear.


The story you have just read is an account of actual events experienced by the writer. The Hotel’s original name is no longer in use; it has since been changed and is operated by a different owner. The name used in this story is strictly to serve as a reference for the reader. Any name or likenesses may be coincidental; however, this incident occurred over thirty years ago. The reason for sharing this story is to highlight the results of severe prejudices and their actions in our daily lives. What we say, hear, and do genuinely matter. And how dangerous it can be to turn back the clock in an attempt to make things like they used to be!

To learn more on ASSAULTS IN THE GAY COMMUNITY CLICK HERE!

Bennie: The Heart and Soul of the Melon Group | LGBTQI+ Community Support

FeaturedLeave a comment

The Melon Group was a crowd of friends that began in a small community as a support group. The members had found themselves there as a collective of the LGBTQI+ Community. They ranged from 18 to 80+ and had watched people come and go. Sadly, the group was gathering after attending the funeral of the Melon Group founder, Bennie. He had been the one back in 1981 who had posted an ad in the local paper inviting all the rainbow family members to join him for snacks and treats in the local park. It was a risky move in those days, but Bennie was like that; he took chances. Chances like that gave life to many of the hidden townspeople, who did not have anyone to turn to.

There was Joanne, a closeted lesbian, until 1984 when the help of Bennie’s meetings in the park gave her the courage to confront her family. Thanks to Bennie, Jill, her partner, met her at the park. Jon and Mike, a gay middle-aged couple, found support with the group after relocating to the community for their jobs. Then there were Jett and Freida, who were transgender. They found love from the group when their families had disowned them.

Others, too many to mention, had been through the Melon Group over the years. As they sat in a local coffee shop and began to recall the years that had passed, memories flooded back of those who had once been part of their vibrant community but were no longer there.

Paul, an older gentleman among the first members, always had a warm smile and a knack for baking the best cookies. He had passed away a few years ago, but his recipes lived on in the group, a sweet reminder of his presence. Maria, a young transgender woman, had found solace in the group after escaping an abusive household. She eventually moved to a big city to chase her dreams of becoming an artist, but her sporadic visits and heartfelt messages kept her close to everyone’s hearts.

Bennie, though, was the heart and soul of the Melon Group. His courage and vision created a safe space where none had existed. His laughter was infectious, and his wisdom, always shared with a twinkle in his eye, guided many through their darkest days. Bennie had a way of making everyone feel seen, heard, and loved. He remembered every birthday, celebrated every milestone, and comforted every sorrow. His passing left a void that felt impossible to fill.

The Melon Group wasn’t just a support group but a lifeline. In those early days, gathering in the park was an act of defiance, a statement of existence in a world that often refused to acknowledge them. Over time, the group became a second family. They celebrated, grieved, and, most importantly, stood by each other through thick and thin.

Samantha, a bisexual woman who had joined in the late ’90s, recalled how Bennie had helped her through her messy divorce and subsequent custody battle. “Bennie always knew what to say,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “He had this way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it felt like the world was falling apart.”

Jacob, who recently came out as non-binary, shared how Bennie had encouraged them to embrace their true selves. “Bennie saw me,” Jacob said. He saw the real me even before I did. He gave me the strength to be honest with myself and the world.”

The Melon Group had seen countless faces over the years: people who found a place to belong, who found love and acceptance, who found the courage to be themselves. Bennie’s legacy lived on in each of them, in the connections they made, and in the lives they touched.

As they sat in that coffee shop, sharing stories and laughter through their tears, they knew Bennie’s spirit was with them. They vowed to continue his work, keep the Melon Group alive and thriving, and be the beacon of hope and love that Bennie had always been.

The Melon Group had weathered many storms but stood firm, a testament to the power of community, love, and the enduring impact of one man’s dream. Bennie may be gone, but his light shone brightly in the hearts of all who had known him, and in the Melon Group, that light would never fade.

History of Gay Pride Parades: From Struggle to Celebration

Featured3 Comments

The story of Gay Pride Parades, also known as LGBTQ+ Pride Parades, begins with a backdrop of systemic discrimination, social stigma, and legal challenges faced by LGBTQ+ individuals. The need for such parades emerged from the historical struggle for recognition, rights, and acceptance. Here’s a concise history of how they became necessary:

Screenshot

Early 20th Century: Discrimination and Marginalization

In the early 20th century, LGBTQ+ individuals faced severe discrimination and persecution. Homosexuality was criminalized in many parts of the world, and those who identified as LGBTQ+ were often subject to arrest, harassment, and violence. This era was marked by widespread societal stigma, leading many to conceal their identities.

1950s-1960s: The Homophile Movement

The mid-20th century saw the rise of the homophile movement, with groups like the Mattachine Society and the Daughters of Bilitis advocating for the rights of gay and lesbian individuals. These organizations aimed to improve the public perception of LGBTQ+ people and sought to decriminalize homosexuality. Their efforts laid the groundwork for more visible activism.

Stonewall Uprising: The Catalyst

The catalyst for the Gay Pride Parades was the Stonewall Uprising in June 1969. The Stonewall Inn, a gay bar in New York City’s Greenwich Village, was a frequent target of police raids. On June 28, 1969, a raid sparked spontaneous and violent demonstrations by the LGBTQ+ community, which lasted several days. The Stonewall Uprising marked a turning point, as it galvanized the LGBTQ+ community and led to the formation of activist organizations like the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) and the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA).

1970: The First Pride March

To commemorate the one-year anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising, activists organized the first Christopher Street Liberation Day March on June 28, 1970. This event is widely recognized as the first Gay Pride Parade. It took place in New York City and was followed by similar marches in Los Angeles, Chicago, and San Francisco. The purpose of these marches was to promote LGBTQ+ visibility, celebrate their identity, and demand equal rights.

Growth and Global Expansion

Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, Pride Parades grew in size and spread to other cities around the world. They became annual events, serving as a platform for activism, community building, and celebration. The AIDS crisis in the 1980s further intensified the need for solidarity and visibility, as LGBTQ+ communities faced immense loss and stigma.

Modern Pride Parades

Today, Pride Parades are held in cities worldwide and have evolved into large-scale celebrations that include parades, festivals, concerts, and educational events. They serve multiple purposes: celebrating LGBTQ+ identity and culture, advocating for legal and social equality, and remembering the struggles and achievements of the LGBTQ+ movement.

Continued Relevance

Despite significant progress, LGBTQ+ individuals still face challenges and discrimination in many parts of the world. Pride Parades remain necessary to combat homophobia, transphobia, and other forms of discrimination. They continue to provide a space for the community to express pride in their identity and to demand full equality and acceptance.

Conclusion

The necessity of Gay Pride Parades stems from a history of marginalization and the ongoing fight for rights and recognition. What began as a reaction to oppression and violence has transformed into a global movement that celebrates diversity, promotes inclusivity, and strives for equality.

“A Second Chance: How a Scruffy Terrier Saved a Man From Despair”

FeaturedLeave a comment

Born in a county of less than 12,000 people in the southwest part of the state, Jason grew up in the shadow of his grandfather’s church. Papa Preacher, as he was known, was a fire and brimstone verse-thrower who would have been at home in the 1870s. He led the county revivals in a Save Your Soul from Satan telethon of services every Spring and Fall. Everyone showed up, or people’s names were trashed in the community. 

Jason had heard since the time he could walk how homosexuals would be sent straight to the pits of Hell, with the gnashing of teeth, torture the likes never seen, and burning forever more. From birth, he was scared to believe everything his grandfather said was true.

When Jason began to get older and experienced puberty, his reactions to life differed from those of other teenage boys. His attraction to girls was nonexistent. He had no desire to look at a girl in a way that would be sexual. He had many girls who were friends, but he never wanted to date one or have any relationship other than friendship with any of them. However, when it came to his male friends and older classmates, that was a different story—one he didn’t understand. Jason had never known a person who was gay. He had never been around any books, magazines, or pamphlets that contained gay content. Nor had Jason watched any movies concerning gays. The only thing he knew about gays or the LGBTQI+ Community was that they slept with the same sex and were going to Hell forever! 

Now, he was having intense feelings for other young men, and it was showing. In gym class, he began showing up late or not going at all to avoid going to the locker room. He got roughed up when showering once when he got an erection, and he didn’t mean to. He thought it was difficult enough just trying to hide his excitement walking through the hallways between classes. At least he could use his school books to cover up any problems that could arise. 

What Jason couldn’t cover up was the summer vacation when a foreign exchange student from Germany was staying with a local family, and he was discovered by the local police necking and nearly nude while parked in Jason’s four-wheel drive. They were both in college and of legal age to make their own decisions, but the local police ensured Jason’s grandfather heard about it. The officer then went to the local coffee shop and told the local crowd about it, and soon, the whole town was talking. The foreign exchange student didn’t understand what the big deal was after all, to him, it was well-accepted where he came from, and this upset was so uncalled for. But for Jason, it was the end of his life as he knew it. And, he began to shut down. He was withdrawing and ending communications with everyone. He holed up at home for weeks, sleeping nearly all the time. Then, he began staying awake for days at a time. Finally, he had established a plan to say goodbye. 

Jason sat in his dimly lit living room, the world’s weight pressing down on him. The gun in his hand felt heavy, not just physically but emotionally. His eyes, red from hours of crying, stared at the floor. The only sound was the steady ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner, a reminder of the seconds slipping away.

He had tried an hour earlier. As he pulled the trigger, his body betrayed him, flinching just enough to send the bullet harmlessly through the open window. He had cursed himself for his cowardice, not knowing that his hesitation had saved a life outside. In the quiet street beyond, a small dog had narrowly missed getting hit, the sound of the shot startling it but not injuring it.

Now, Jason sat there, lost in his thoughts. He had tried to change, to conform to the expectations of his family, church, and society. But he couldn’t change who he was. The rejection, the whispers, the outright hostility—they had all taken their toll. He felt alone, unloved, and hopeless.

Unbeknownst to Jason, the small dog he had unknowingly spared was wandering through the neighborhood. The dog, a scruffy terrier mix with a keen sense of empathy, was drawn to the house. Jason left the door slightly ajar, leaving it open in desperation and distraction. The dog slipped inside, its little paws padding softly on the wooden floor.

Jason didn’t notice the dog at first. He, too, was wrapped up in his sorrow, the cold metal of the gun pressed against his temple. It wasn’t until he felt a soft nudge against his leg that he looked down. Sitting in front of him was the scruffy terrier, its eyes wide and filled with a kind of unconditional love that Jason had never experienced before.

The dog wagged its tail, its eyes never leaving Jason’s. It was as if the dog understood his pain and wanted to offer comfort. Jason lowered the gun, his hand trembling. He reached out hesitantly, and the dog nuzzled his hand, licking his fingers gently.

Tears welled up in Jason’s eyes. He hadn’t felt such warmth in so long. The dog climbed into his lap, curling up as if it was fate to find him in his darkest moment. Jason hugged the dog tightly, sobbing into its fur. The presence of the small, warm creature gave him a glimmer of hope, a reason to hold on.

Hours went by as Jason sat there with the dog in his arms. The sun began to rise, casting a gentle glow through the windows. The new day felt like a second chance, a new beginning. He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew he couldn’t give up.

The dog had saved him in more ways than one. It had given him a reason to keep going, a reminder that love and hope could come from the most unexpected places. Jason decided to name the dog Chance for the second chance it had given him. They would face whatever came next, knowing they had each other together.

In the following days, Jason began to reach out for help, reconnecting with supportive friends and finding solace in a community that accepted him for who he was. And through it all, Chance was by his side, a loyal companion who had come into his life when he needed it most. The love and companionship of his furry friend reminded him daily that he was worthy of love and happiness, just as he was.

That evening, Jason turned his television off, the only channel he had been told he could watch and remain a good Christian and child of God. While flipping to another TV station, he came across a public service announcement about PFLAG and went to their website out of curiosity to learn more. It was there that Jason heard about the Trevor Project and The Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender National Hotline. He reached out for direction and soon became part of the most prominent family he knew. And he grew to be the happiest he ever had in life. Today – Jason isn’t going through Hell on Earth trying to stay out of a place many people question. And he wakes up with a rainbow in his life every day!

A Journey Home For One Last GoodBye

FeaturedLeave a comment

Ethan Ryder Is Set Free From A Lifetime Of Pain And Rensentments…

Ethan Ryder had not set foot in Blare, Arkansas, for nearly twenty years. The dusty roads, the sunbaked fields, and the distant hum of cicadas were all etched into his memory, though the town held little warmth for him. The old farm, once a place of life and growth, now symbolized the past he was finally ready to confront. His parents had passed, leaving the property to him, and with a heavy heart, he decided it was time to sell and settle the lingering ghosts of his youth

.
The farmhouse loomed at the end of the dirt road, its paint peeling and windows cloudy with neglect. Ethan took a deep breath, the scent of earth and decay mingling. Memories flooded back—memories of long, lonely days working the fields, of whispered slurs and judgmental glances from the townsfolk, and of the dark, sleepless nights filled with fear and self-loathing.


Ethan’s childhood had been a series of silent battles, trying to reconcile who he was with who the town expected him to be. As a teenager, he had realized he was gay, a revelation that brought a storm of confusion and dread. Blare was not the type of place where locals embraced this kind of difference. The town was small, its people set in their ways, and the intolerance he faced left deep scars.


He walked through the creaking door, the house’s interior almost unchanged. Dusty furniture stood as it had been for decades, and the old family photographs still lined the walls. Ethan ran a finger along the mantle, picking up a thick layer of dust. The house felt like a time capsule, a reminder of a life he had fought hard to leave behind.
It was in the kitchen that Ethan found a tangible connection to his past: an old, weathered cookbook that had belonged to his mother. She was the one person who had always accepted him, even if she didn’t fully understand. Ethan could still hear her soft, comforting voice as she tried to console him during his darkest moments, a voice that brought him solace even in her absence.
Ethan’s father, on the other hand, was a stern man bound by the town’s rigid expectations. When Ethan came out to him, the silence was more painful than any words could have been. The distance between them had grown insurmountable, and this rift had driven Ethan to leave Blare as soon as he could.


As he explored the farm, Ethan’s steps led him to the barn. This old structure, once his sanctuary, was where he could escape the harsh realities of Blare and dream of a life where he could be himself. Pushing open the heavy doors, he was greeted by the familiar scents of hay and leather, triggering a flood of memories. In this very barn, he had shared his first kiss with another boy, a moment that had both terrified and exhilarated him, marking the beginning of his journey toward self-acceptance.


Standing in the barn, Ethan felt a profound sense of closure. The fear and pain of his youth no longer held him captive. He had built a life far from Blare, surrounded by people who loved and accepted him for who he was. He had found happiness, a concept he had once deemed unattainable, and it was a feeling that washed over him, bringing a sense of peace and relief.
With renewed determination, Ethan began sorting through his parents’ belongings, deciding what to keep and let go. Among the keepsakes was a small wooden box he had never seen before. Inside, Ethan found dozens of letters, all addressed to him. They were from his mother and written after he left. In them, she spoke of her regret for not being able to protect him better, her pride in his courage, and her unwavering love.


As Ethan read his mother’s letters, tears welled up in his eyes. Her words were a soothing balm to his wounded soul, healing the scars of a painful past. Even in her absence, he felt a deep connection to her, a connection that brought him peace and a renewed sense of self. Her letters were not just words on a page, but a testament to her love and understanding, a final gift of closure and acceptance.


By the time Ethan was ready to leave, the farmhouse felt less like a place of pain and more like a chapter that had finally ended. He had faced his past, laid his ghosts to rest, and was ready to move forward. As Ethan drove away from Blare for the last time, the sun setting behind him, Ethan felt a lightness in his heart. He was free.

Photo by Mariah N on Pexels.com

Family Love and Understanding: A Parenting Journey Unveiled

BenjaminLeave a comment
Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva on Pexels.com

Eric’s and Marie’s parents, Donald and Jasmine, married for thirteen years. They were a biracial couple and parents, of Eric and Marie, a set of twins about to turn twelve years old. At the end of the school year, Donald and Jasmine sat down with Eric and Marie and said they needed to talk to them.

As the end of the school year approached, the twins, Eric and Marie, found themselves in a state of anticipation. They hadn’t broken any rules or caused any major disturbances at home, so what could this conversation be about? Their minds raced with possibilities: Could one of their parents be seriously ill? Or perhaps a financial crisis had struck, forcing them to downsize their home?

It didn’t take long for Donald and Jasmine to clear the air. Donald began ––

“For years we knew we would one day have to talk to you about this and we always promised we would tell you when you are 12 years old. We’ve been preparing for this conversation, considering your maturity and understanding, and we believe now is the right time.”

Jasmine joined in ––

“That’s right, we feel you are at the age that you will understand what we are about to tell you and why we want to tell you this. It is important for you to know that we love you very much, and you both are the reason we did this. Our love for you is the foundation of this decision, and we hope you understand that.”

Eric and Marie, in their twin fashion, said in unison ––

“So what did you guys do, rob a bank and run from the law?”

Donald firmly replied ––

“No! What we have to say is more important than that, and this is about something that would have been much more severe if it didn’t work initially!”

The twins were shocked. What could be more severe than being on the run from the law?

Jasmine, wanting to direct the topic back to its intended purpose, suggested everyone take a deep breath. Saying ––

“What we are talking about isn’t Spy Stuff.”

Donald replied ––

“It almost was!“

Jasmine, tired of the kids and Donald’s propensity for dragging out any conversation to make it a lecture, much as he would a class of his at the University, took control of the room ––

“Look, we have to say what we are here to talk about. It isn’t up for guessing or beating around the bush. The kids are supposed to know now. Kids, your mother and father are gay! We have been since the day you were born. Since we both were born. I gave birth to you; your father is your real daddy. But we have never had sex. I became pregnant through in vitro fertilization. Do you know what that is?”

The twins both nodded their heads, again answering together,

“Yes, we learned about this year at school.”

Then Eric replied ––

I always knew Pop was gay, but I never thought it of you, Mom.

Marie sputtered out ––

“Well, I always thought Mom was, but I would have never guessed it of Pops!“

Donald and Jasmine just stood there, looking at each other, somewhat dumbfounded. Each wondered what they could have done to cause their children to make such conclusions. But that wasn’t as important as helping them accept the news they had heard.

Donald said to both children ––

“Kids, we want to ensure you know you can talk to us about this and are okay with asking questions.”

Eric and Marie sat silently for a moment, processing this significant revelation. Then, Marie broke the silence.––

“Are you both happy?”

She asked softly, looking between her parents.

Donald and Jasmine exchanged glances before Jasmine replied ––

“Yes, sweetheart. We are delighted. Our relationship works because we love and support each other. We decided to raise you as a family to provide you with a loving home. And we do love each other, just not in the way you might think of traditional marriages.”

Still absorbing everything, Eric asked ––

“So, does this mean you have other partners or are you just… like roommates?”

Donald took a deep breath and said ––

“We do have partners. We’ve kept this part of our lives private because we wanted to wait until you were old enough to understand. We both have partners who mean a lot to us, and they support and love you, too.”

Jasmine added ––

“We wanted to ensure you both felt safe and secure in our family before introducing you to anything confusing. Now that you’re older, you can understand and handle this better.”

Eric and Marie exchanged a glance. Marie asked ––

“So, when do we get to meet them?”

Jasmine smiled warmly ––

“We’ll introduce you to them when you’re ready. We want to make sure you get enough at a time. It’s important that you feel comfortable and smooth with this transition.”

Eric nodded thoughtfully ––

“It’s a lot to take in, but we get it. We want you both to be happy.”

Marie chimed in ––

“Yeah, we love you both, no matter what. It’s different, but it doesn’t change anything for us.”

Donald and Jasmine both felt a wave of relief. They knew there would be more questions and possibly some challenging moments ahead, but they had taken the first step. The important thing was that they had started this journey with honesty and love.

Jasmine said ––


“Thank you for being so understanding. We know it’s a lot, but we are here to support each other. Always.”

Eric and Marie smiled. Marie reached out and hugged her parents, with Eric joining in. They sat together, holding onto each other, feeling the strength of their family’s bond. In that moment, they knew that whatever challenges came their way, they would face them together, with love and understanding guiding them through.

As the twins headed to their private bedrooms, Eric said to Marie ––

“I told you Pop’s wasn’t sleeping in a separate bedroom because of his snoring!”

Marie replied ––

“And I told you it wasn’t because of Mom’s cold feet!”

Resilience and Triumph: A Transgender Officer’s Inspiring Journey at Dalfton PD

FeaturedLeave a comment

Sergeant Bill Johnson, 45, served in the patrol division of the Dalfton Police Department and held the position of Range Master at the department’s shooting range for the last twenty years. Dalfton was a small Oklahoma City metro area department, and the officers often assisted other departments.

Officer Johnson was single and also secretly transgender; that is, he is living his birth sexuality but slowly dying to live his real identity. The trouble being in his life, Johnson can’t bring himself to do so until his parents die. When he turned 46, his father and mother both passed away of old age within days of one another. Following their funerals and while on bereavement leave, Johnson takes an extended leave for more than one year. During that time, Bill went to another state and underwent the necessary procedures to become the person he always felt his body called him to be.

Her return to duty after turning 48 as Billie Johnson surprised many, especially because she was female. However, her colleagues had a mixed acceptance. Officers she had worked with for over twenty years, backed up in the most dangerous situations, gave her a cold shoulder. She had explained to her Chief of Police that she wouldn’t be alive another year if this didn’t happen. She had barely managed to live the life she had, saying each day it was torture to exist in a man’s body. But, to have tried to change while her parents were alive would have killed them because of their strict religious views, so she lived a tortured life until they died only for them. Now, thanks to their passing, she is freed from their prison; love has set her free.

Sargent Billie Johnson returned to duty with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. As the Range Master, she had built a reputation for her expertise and dedication, but now she faced a different challenge. The Dalfton Police Department, though small, was a tight-knit community, and Billie knew that acceptance would vary widely among her colleagues.

On her first day back, Billie entered the station, her heart pounding. Chief Parker was first to greet her. He had always been a staunch supporter of her.

“Welcome back, Billie,”

He said warmly, shaking her hand firmly.

“It’s good to have you here.”

Billie smiled, appreciating the genuine welcome. She took a deep breath and made her way to her office, passing by officers who gave her nods, smiles, and the occasional curious glance. She noticed some of her colleagues whispering among themselves, but she chose to focus on the supportive faces around her.

Photo by Gotta Be Worth It on Pexels.com

Her first real test came during her first day at the shooting range. She gathered the officers for a mandatory training session, a duty she had performed countless times before. This time, however, she could feel the tension in the air. Some officers were visibly uncomfortable, while others were neutral or encouraging.

Billie addressed the group with confidence.

“I know this is a change for all of us,” she began. “But my commitment to this department and to each of you has not changed. Let’s focus on what we do best—keeping our skills sharp and supporting each other.”

Throughout the session, Billie demonstrated her usual precision and expertise. Gradually, she noticed that the focus shifted from her identity to the training itself. Officer Morales, one of her long-time colleagues, approached her after the session.

“Hey, Billie,”

Morales said, his tone friendly.

“I just wanted to say that it’s good to have you back. You’ve always been a great Range Master, and that hasn’t changed.”

Billie felt a wave of relief.

“Thanks, Morales. That means a lot.”

Over the next few months, Billie worked tirelessly to prove herself as the skilled officer she had always been and as a supportive and reliable colleague. Slowly but surely, the initial tension began to fade. Some officers, Like Morales, were quick to accept her, while others took more time. A few remained distant, but Billie focused on building bridges where she could.

The turning point came during a high-stakes operation in collaboration with neighboring departments. Billie played a crucial role in planning and executing the operation, showcasing her leadership and tactical skills. The operation was a success, and her colleagues began to see her as Billie Johnson and as the capable and dedicated officer she had always been.
In the aftermath, Officer Simmons, one of the more skeptical officers, approached Billie.

“I have to admit, I had my doubts,”

Simmons said candidly.

“But you’ve proved you’re the same person—if not more vital. I respect that.”

Billie nodded, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

“Thanks, Simmons. We’re all in this together.”

As the months turned into years, Billie became a symbol of resilience and strength within the department. She continued to shine in her assignment, earning respect and admiration from those around her. While there were always challenges, Billie faced them head-on, knowing that living her truth had strengthened her.

Her journey inspired others in the department and the wider community. Billie began to advocate for greater awareness and support for transgender individuals within law enforcement and beyond. Her story became one of courage, acceptance, and the power of living authentically.

Photo by Anete Lusina on Pexels.com

Sargent Billie Johnson, now 50, stood tall, proud of her journey and the person she had become. She knew that while the road had been difficult, it was worth every step. She had found her true self and, in doing so, had made a lasting impact on those around her.

If your child just told you they are Transgender, what should you do? Maybe this site will help you…click here!

Embracing a New Chapter: The Journey of Clean Slate Services

FeaturedLeave a comment
Photo by Alexander Grey on Pexels.com

Lemi stood at the threshold of his tidy apartment, staring at the email that had just ended his decade-long tenure at the executive office. He had been a critical player with innovative ideas and unmatched dedication. But the corporate world had no room for loyalty when profits wavered. The company’s polite yet impersonal farewell words blurred as he fought back the rising tide of emotions. The sense of loss and betrayal was overwhelming, and he found himself questioning his worth and identity. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope began to emerge, a whisper that maybe, just maybe, this was an opportunity for something new and fulfilling.

At first, Lemi saw it as a temporary measure. He printed flyers, set up a simple website, and spread the word. His first clients were mostly friends and acquaintances, curious and supportive of his new venture. The physical work starkly contrasted his former desk job, but he found unexpected satisfaction in transforming spaces from dusty and cluttered to spotless and serene.

The next few days were a whirlwind of updating resumes, connecting with old contacts, and browsing job boards. But as the days turned into weeks, the stress of bills and dwindling savings forced Lemi to confront a stark reality: he needed an immediate source of income. Yet, in the midst of this uncertainty, a flicker of hope ignited. He had always found a strange solace in cleaning, a control over chaos that was missing in his current life. And thus, Clean Slate Services was born, a testament to his resilience and adaptability.

One sunny afternoon, Lemi arrived at the grand home of his new client, Daniel. The man who opened the door was effortlessly handsome, with a warm smile that lit up his face. As Lemi introduced himself and got to work, he couldn’t help but notice Daniel’s frequent, friendly visits to the rooms he was cleaning. They chatted about everything from the latest books to favorite travel destinations. There was an undeniable spark, a twist in the tale that Lemi tried to dismiss as mere friendliness, but couldn’t ignore.

Days turned into weeks, and Lemi looked forward to his sessions at Daniel’s home more than any other. The routine of cleaning became almost secondary to their growing friendship. One day, as Lemi was packing up his supplies, Daniel invited him to stay for coffee. They sat on the patio, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow around them.

“Lemi, I’ve been meaning to tell you,”

Daniel started, hesitant yet sincere.

“I admire what you’re doing here. Not just the cleaning, but how you’ve turned things around after –– well, you know.”

Lemi felt a warmth spread through him at Daniel’s words.

“Thank you, Daniel. It’s been quite a journey, but it’s been more rewarding than I ever expected.”

Their eyes met, and the world seemed still for a moment. Lemi’s heart raced as he realized the depth of his feelings. But alongside this, a new realization dawned: he genuinely loved what he was doing. The satisfaction of making things clean and bright, the connections he was forming, and the control over his destiny were things he had never found in his corporate job. This realization filled him with a sense of fulfillment and contentment he had long been searching for.

As he drove home that evening, Lemi thought about the path ahead. He had always seen Clean Slate Services as a stopgap, but now he wondered if it was something more. The pride he felt in his work, the joy of seeing his clients happy, and the possibility of exploring his feelings for Daniel combined to create a new vision for his future.

A few days later, Lemi met with an old colleague for lunch. The conversation inevitably turned to job openings in the executive world. As his colleague spoke, Lemi felt a strange detachment. The allure of high-powered meetings and corporate ladders no longer enticed him. He thanked his friend for the information but politely declined to pursue any leads. He had found a new path, a path that was more aligned with his values and brought him true satisfaction. The corporate world, with its politics and pressures, no longer held the same appeal.


Returning home, Lemi sat at his desk, staring at the Clean Slate Services logo he had hastily designed months ago. He lifted up his cell phone and texted Daniel, inviting him to dinner. He felt a new sense of purpose, a feeling that he was precisely where he needed to be.

Lemi had found his true calling—not in the towering office buildings of the corporate world but in the simple, honest work of cleaning homes and the unexpected love blossoming with a kind-hearted client. Looking around his spotless apartment, he knew now was the time to embrace a new chapter with an open mind, arms, and heart.

Victor: A Man of Mystery and Resilience | Uncovering the Lost Relic in Haunting Mansion

BenjaminLeave a comment

A forgotten mansion, shrouded in mystery, stood in the heart of the old city, nestled among the cobblestone streets and gothic architecture. Its grandiose facade, though worn by time, still retained an enigmatic elegance. On a stormy evening, Victor, a man of mystery and resilience, found himself drawn to this mansion, its secrets whispering to him.

Victor, a man of mystery and resilience, had always been a seeker of the unusual, the arcane. His latest obsession had led him to this mansion, rumored to be the repository of a lost relic. He was a formidable presence in his black leather attire, adorned with silver studs and zippers. His attire, a blend of functionality and style, spoke volumes of his readiness for whatever the night might bring.

The mansion’s interior was a haunting blend of past grandeur and eerie decay. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the portraits of stern-faced ancestors that lined the walls, their eyes seeming to follow him as he made his way through the dimly lit halls. The air was thick with the scent of old books and the faint, lingering traces of incense, and the floorboards creaked under his weight.

Victor’s destination was the study; a room said to contain a hidden compartment where the relic was concealed. He had done his homework; old blueprints and cryptic notes had led him here. With a determined stride, he entered the study, its heavy wooden door creaking ominously.

The room was a testament to the mansion’s former glory, with rich mahogany shelves lined with ancient tomes, a grand fireplace, and a massive desk that dominated the space. Victor approached the desk, his leather-clad fingers tracing the intricate carvings on its surface. He had a hunch that the key lay in the hidden compartment of the desk itself.

After a meticulous search, Victor’s fingers found a small, concealed latch. A secret drawer slid open with a soft click, revealing a velvet-lined compartment. Inside lay an ornate box, its surface inlaid with mother-of-pearl and silver filigree. Victor’s heart raced as he carefully lifted the box and opened it.

Inside, nestled in velvet, was the relic: an ancient amulet, its center a polished obsidian stone encircled by symbols of power and protection. As Victor held it, a surge of energy coursed through him, confirming the amulet’s authenticity; this was what he had been searching for. The amulet, rumored to hold the key to immortality, was a prize coveted by many.

His triumph was interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall. Victor quickly stashed the amulet in his belt pouch and closed the drawer, his senses on high alert. He had been cautious, but it seemed he was not alone in his quest.

The door to the study burst open, and a figure clad in dark robes stepped in. ‘You have something that belongs to me,’ the intruder hissed, eyes glinting with malice. ‘You’re too late,’ Victor replied, his voice steady. ‘The amulet is mine now.’

Victor stood his ground, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his concealed dagger. “The amulet is not yours to claim,” he replied coolly. “It belongs to no one but itself.”

A tense silence filled the room, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. The intruder moved with surprising speed, lunging towards Victor. But Victor was ready. In a swift, fluid motion, he drew his dagger and deflected the attack, the blade glinting in the dim light. His heart pounded in his chest, his senses heightened as he focused on the task at hand.

The fight was a whirlwind of intensity. Victor’s combat training and the intruder’s desperate aggression clashed in a flurry of movement. The air crackled with tension as they circled each other, each seeking an opening. In the end, Victor’s skill and determination prevailed. The intruder, defeated and disarmed, lay on the floor, gasping for breath.

Victor looked down at his defeated opponent, his eyes a mix of pity and resolve. ‘Leave now and never return,’ he ordered, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of sadness. ‘The amulet’s power is beyond your understanding.’

The intruder, cowed and beaten, scrambled to his feet and fled into the night. Victor watched him go, his eyes filled with a mix of pity and resolve. He knew his journey was far from over. The relic’s true power and purpose were yet to be revealed, and he was resolute in his determination to unravel its mysteries.

With the amulet safely in his possession, Victor left the mansion and stepped into the stormy night. Lightning illuminated his path, and the rain washed away the remnants of the battle. As he disappeared into the shadows, one thing was sure: Victor’s legend was only beginning.

Fred and Matilda

BenjaminLeave a comment

Fred and Matilda had been retired for over ten years. They had passed their silver years and were entering their golden years. Both had begun to experience forgetfulness, which was not severe but inconvenient. Fred would forget his wallet when he left home to go to town, or Matilda would forget to put extra tissues in her purse. She needed them to keep her nose wiped due to spring’s seasonal allergy season.

Today, Fred and Matilda left their modest bungalow midcentury home on East Kiowa Street in Corprol, Oklahoma. They traveled thirty miles to see the couple’s son nearby. Due to Fred’s’ safe’ driving, the drive should take just over fifty minutes. He never exceeded fifty miles an hour and usually kept their ’53 Chevrolet Coup topped at 45 miles per hour. Matilda was known for always talking to Fred when he was driving. She never shut up.

Matilda would say to him –––

“Fred, ease to the left, honey; now go back to the right and watch it. Oh no—a car is coming! Now, someone is behind us. Wait, a car is approaching us; I think the guy behind us will pass us.“

Fred and Matilda’s son, Bill, looked at the clock at 1:00 PM. His parents should have been at his place at 11:00 AM. He thought they stopped by their old farm and got lost in time, recalling days when they had lived in the farming area for more than forty years, and everyone knew them. Even so, the people from those days mainly had moved on just as they had. So, it was unusual to find a two-hour distraction without calling him to let him know they would be delayed.

Matilda, a constant verbal navigational bird, was a familiar presence to Fred. Her chatter, a constant companion during their drives, was a source of comfort to him. He had grown accustomed to her voice, finding solace in the sound. Fred’s driving was noticeably worse when she wasn’t there, a testament to her voice’s role in his life.

At 3:00 PM, Bill was beside himself. Where were Fred and Matilda? He called their home to make sure they had not decided to go back home and make the trip another day; the phone just rang and rang. He called Fred’s and Matilda’s cell phones, but no one answered. Bill decided it was time to notify authorities.

Bill called the Ninekakh Police Department, and Officer Nadine Smith answered. Nadine had a strong ‘Okie” accent and a sweet demeanor.

“Ninekakh Police Department, Officer Smith, Who can I help today?”

Bill was stunned by the sweetness and tone of Nadine’s voice and how comfortable she made him feel just by answering the call he had placed. Bill said –––

“Hi, my name is Bill Roth. My parents, Fred and Matilda Roth, are late getting to my home outside Singer; they were driving here from Corprol.”

Knowing Bill was concerned and having met the Roths several times, Nadine knew they were not the type to disappear carelessly. Nadine asked –––

“Bill, honey, how old are your parents? Do you know what they are driving, and do you have any identification to help find them? And what were they doing today?”

Bill was quick to answer –––

My parents are driving a blue 53 Chevrolet Coupe two-door in their mid-70s. They were moving from Corpral to Singer to visit me today. They might have stopped by the old farm to remember old times, but I don’t know. They have never really been this late. Fred always wears grey pants, a white shirt, and a baseball cap, and Matilda usually wears a dress, blue or gray, that extends below the knee, with flat shoes; they both have gray hair. They quit taking photographs twenty years ago because both said it made them look like they were aging to get new pictures taken. They won’t even stand still for someone to get them in a cell phone, selfie-type picture.”

Nadine, taking a deep breath, said –––

Wow! Thank you. That is a whole lot of information, but it isn’t. I will get out and look at the highway between the two towns for them and any side roads. Also, I’ll put this out on the radio for other departments to be on the lookout for. Meanwhile, I suggest you stay where you are if they arrive at your place or call you.

Bill was a nervous wreck. Thoughts raced through his mind of where they could be, what could have happened, and then who could have taken them or could they have been robbed. They could have been running off the road by another driver in a road rage incident. Bill remembered the time he got lost hiking with friends and how much worry it brought his parents. He thought to himself, ‘Payback is hell!’ Exhausted from thinking, Bill yells out loud –

“At least they knew where to start looking for me. I was out hiking, and they had a starting point. Hell, I don’t have a clue where these two old farts are!”

As Nadine was patrolling from the Ninekah Sheriff’s Department heading south toward Corprol, she saw a roadside melon and vegetable sales stand, the type set up to sell from the back of an old truck. She pulled over and talked to the farmer who was selling his goods and asked if he had seen anyone matching the description of Fred and Matilda. 

“Yep, I saw them! They were two feisty people. For their age, I was surprised. 

Nadine surprised that her luck had paid off, asked the farmer what he meant, and he replied –––

“Well, this young guy was here too, and he had one of those cell phones out taking pictures of him and his girlfriend; it could have been his boyfriend. I couldn’t tell by looking. Anyway, he got a picture of the two older people and told them he hoped he and his sweety could be just like them when they got to be antique. And that is when all hell broke loose. The older adults didn’t want those pictures going anywhere. The young couple took off, and the others left behind them. I never saw two older adults driving like that. They were laying rubber.

Nadine called Bill and told him what the farmer told her, and Bill, in a chilling voice, responded,

“Christ, it’s Christmas 2015 all over again. They did the same thing when someone took a photo of them in the background at a convenience store on Christmas Eve of 2015. We saw them again in February. The family of the people who took the photos still hasn’t seen their people. The last report anyone ever heard was that they were trying to outrun an old couple driving a Blue 53 Chevy Coupe.”

Officer Nadine Smith ––– Adam 851 Clear from report at 1700 hours, 15 miles south of Singer, on Highway 41, clear.  

Dispatch to Smith, Affirmative, 1700 hours, KMH 253.

Officer Smith drove to Bill’s home, where she discovered a blue 53 Chevrolet Coupe appearing to stick out of an outbuilding on the property. She went to Bill’s Door and rang the bell. When he answered, she asked if his parents had been in contact. He said they had not. 

Smith asked Bill to walk out and look at the car in the shed, which, to his surprise, was his parents’ vehicle.

How did they get past me? And where are they now?

Fred and Matilda, in their enthusiastic but forgetful state, had indeed managed to return home unnoticed. Bill and Officer Smith, both puzzled and concerned, carefully approached the shed where the car was parked. The vehicle, though covered, was the distinctive blue ’53 Chevrolet Coupe.

“Bill, stay behind me,” 

Officer Smith instructed, her hand resting on her holster just in case.

“Let’s check inside,” Bill suggested.

Together, they slowly lifted the cover off the car, revealing it entirely. The sight brought a mix of relief and confusion to Bill’s face. The vehicle looked unscathed as if a chauffeur had driven the couple from a leisurely trip.

As they peered into the car, they noticed the keys were still in the ignition, and Matilda’s purse was on the passenger seat. But there were no signs of Fred and Matilda themselves.

“Where could they have gone?“

 Bill murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Officer Smith walked around the shed, looking for any further clues. Just then, they heard a faint, familiar sound coming from the back of the house. Following the noise, they discovered Fred and Matilda sitting on a swing in the backyard, calmly chatting and sipping on lemonade.

“Dad! Mom! What on earth happened?” 

Bill exclaimed, running towards them.

Fred looked up, somewhat surprised but pleased to see his son.

“Oh, Bill, there you are! We were wondering when you’d find us.”

With a serene smile, Matilda added,

“We decided to take a little detour to the old farm, but then we thought we’d better come back home when it started getting late. We didn’t want to worry you.”

Torn between relief and frustration, Bill tried to keep his voice steady.

“Why didn’t you call me? We’ve been worried sick!”

Fred scratched his head, looking a bit sheepish.

“Well, son, we did mean to call you, but then Matilda realized she left her phone at home, and mine ran out of battery. By the time we returned, we were so tired we just sat down for a rest.”

Upon witnessing the heartfelt reunion, Officer Smith felt a wave of relief wash over her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Roth, it’s good to see you’re both safe. You gave us quite a scare.”

Ever the apologetic, Matilda said,

“We’re sorry, dear. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble. We’ll be more careful next time.”

Fred nodded in agreement.

“Yes, we’ll charge the phone next time and keep it with us.”

Bill sighed deeply, his worry slowly dissipating.

“Just glad you’re both okay. Next time, please, let’s avoid any more detours.”

Fred chuckled. “Deal. How about we all go inside and have some of Matilda’s famous apple pie? It’s been a long day.”

As they walked back into the house, Bill couldn’t help but feel grateful for the small blessings—his parents were safe, and despite their forgetfulness, they still had their spirited sense of adventure. It was another reminder of how precious these moments were, even when they came with a bit of worry.

George’s Story About Going TO A Horse Sale With His Dad And Friend Maynord

FeaturedLeave a comment

George was a happy-go-lucky sort of kid. His father raised quarter horses, and together, they were buddies. They go nearly everywhere together. George and his father’s friend Maynord, an older gentleman, probably a few years older than George’s father, spoiled George, treating him especially grandly. George didn’t emphasize the letter ‘s’ in some of his words, and some words he would say might need to be clarified. His father was known as a horseman and stern man, yet respected by most people, eyebrows raised to the bible-toting folks.

Maynord had a grown daughter who had already left home, but he and his wife had never had a son. With George, Maynord had the time of his life. As did George. The two were better buddies than Maynord, and George’s father became. But George would never say that to his father. Maynord treated George to parades, cheeseburgers, and ice cream cones and even got him a dog. George named the pooch, Ryder after Maynord’s last name.

The two looked forward to Friday and Saturday nights. That is when George’s dad would take George and Maynord to auction barns in nearby cities where horses were sold. There, they would watch the many horses come through the sale ring, and the owners talk them up, saying how great of an animal the horse is, and try to sell it for top dollar. Of course, George’s father had always arrived before the auction to watch the horses lead in so he could see how they handled it and whether they were challenging to work with in getting to holding pens. He could also see if any auction workers tried to ride the horses before entering the sale ring and if the horses handled well. There were always little mishaps in the sale ring, a rider losing his grip and falling off, or a horse doing what the owner said it would not do. Or donkeys would be brought in, which always made George and Maynord laugh. They would jokingly suggest George’s father buy several to go with his quarter horses. The biggest thrill of the sales barn adventures was the cafe located within; that is where, halfway through, George and Maynord would slip away and eat cheeseburgers and drink soda pop.

The horse sales, as George and his father referred to them, caused the problem. Maynord didn’t help with the situation because he referred to the auctions as horse sales. And he had never referred to the auctioning of horses as anything else.

It was in the classroom one Monday morning when the third-grade teacher asked the class for each student to stand and say what the most fun activity they took part in over the weekend was. The town had just had a fair, and the teacher expected the students to explain their actions while visiting the celebration. And that is what the students did until coming to George. 

George stood and said –––

“My dad and our friend Maynord took me to the city horse sale, and my dad bought two. 

While George was speaking about horses, the teacher heard ‘whore sale.’  

The teacher said –––

“George, you went where, and your dad what?”

George replied –––

“My dad took me to a horse sale and bought two. His friend Maynord helped with one of them. They made me watch from the pickup.” 

The teacher, turning pale, said –

“George, stop talking; that is enough! Class, that is enough of what we enjoyed this weekend. I will have George explain what he did to the principal.”

George was perplexed. Hasn’t anyone ever watched a horse being sold and loaded into a livestock trailer? Why would the principal need to hear about it? Indeed, he knows about people selling horses.

In the office, the principal was being informed by the teacher about what she had heard and how terrible it was that this father and his friend had taken an 8-year-old boy to whore house and had him watch the goings on with two women. The principal then asked George what exactly did you say to your teacher? 

Which George explained –––

“I just told her ––– My dad, Maynord, and I went to a horse sale, where my dad bought two horses. They made me get in the pickup and watch them while loading the horses so I wouldn’t get hurt or in the way. There have been days, I have even held on to some guys horse when he had too many to handle. But I didn’t get to explain it in such detail because the teacher told me to stop talking before I could tell more about what I was talking about. We go to horse sales every weekend. I don’t know what the big deal is!”

The principal and now the school’s superintendent were both in the office. Their faces were beet red, and they were trying to keep from laughing. The teacher, now understanding the situation, felt overreactive and apologizing. 

Meanwhile, George is confused and asks everyone in the room –––

“Haven’t you all ever heard of horse sales? Horse sales? Horse Sales! A Place where a man can sell his horse? My dad, Maynord and I go to them every Friday and Saturday night, you should come with us and see what it is all about. If you get bored with the horse sale, you can get a cheeseburger, as I sometimes do. I don’t understand what this is all about just because I told my story about going to the horse sale with my dad and Maynord.”

George’s dad, the town barber, was called and told of the situation. He later held court in his barber’s chair with his shop’s regulars. There, they had the bursts of laughter the school officials experienced.

Leaving the office, it was the loudest laughter George can ever remember hearing to this date. It wasn’t until he was older did he understand the rhyming of the words between horse and whores and how it could sound to others when saying to them ––– 

“You are headed to a horse sale to see what you can find.”

~ SHARING IN THE PRIDE ~

BenjaminLeave a comment

NewFest Pride

Kick off Pride month with a 5-day festival celebrating our community’s legacy and exciting contemporary stories
Showcasing film premieres, filmmaker Q&A’s, and social events 
May 30 – June 3, 2024

Navigate this page

NewFest Pride has it all — premieres of the year’s most anticipated queer films, conversations, parties and outdoor screenings! Check out the full lineup below. 

Get A Pass

Membership Plus Members + above get free Virtual Passes.


Learn more about becoming a NewFest Member 💖

LINEUP

A HOUSE IS NOT A DISCO (Opening Night Film & Party)

Dir. Brian J. Smith

A compelling, lovingly-captured portrait of Fire Island as queer paradise that sees past and present blur within the iconic beach town as it celebrates its collective legacy and redefines itself for a modern era. 

Ticket includes entrance to Opening Night Party at Slate.

MY OLD ASS

Dir. Megan Park

In this fresh coming-of-age story, an 18th birthday mushroom trip brings free-spirited Elliott (Maisy Stella) face-to-face with her wisecracking 39-year-old self (Aubrey Plaza).

HAZE

Dir. Matthew Fifer

A young journalist returns home to investigate the unsolved deaths at an abandoned psychiatric center in this eerie, evocative psychological thriller from writer/director Matthew Fifer (CICADA)

CLOSE TO YOU

Dir. Dominic Savage

Producer and co-writer Elliot Page stars in this emotionally observant drama about returning home as yourself and finding hope in potentially rekindled relationships

FANTASMAS (Episodes 1 & 2)

Dir. Julio Torres

A delightfully wry new series from the imagination of creator, star, writer, and director Julio Torres (LOS ESPOOKYS, PROBLEMISTA)

THE QUEEN OF MY DREAMS

Dir. Fawzia Mirza

Grad student Azra feels worlds apart from her seemingly rigid mother yet uncovers their unexpected connections on a trip to Pakistan in this vibrant festival favorite (TIFF, SXSW) from writer/director Fawzia Mirza. Ticket comes with entrance to Women’s Afternoon Out pre-screening reception

SEBASTIAN

Dir. Mikko Mäkelä

A freelance writer and aspiring novelist on his way to ostensible success in London’s cultural spheres finds a different kind of exhilaration as a sex worker in this Sundance sensation.

AM I OK?

Dirs. Tig Notaro & Stephanie Allynne

Dakota Johnson stars in this uplifting comedy from co-directors Tig Notaro & Stephanie Allynne about self-discovery, life changes, and friendship. 

BLACK QUEER PRIDE SHORTS WITH VIMEO

Join NewFest & Vimeo for a celebratory short film showcase by and about Black LGBTQ+ lives, joys, and experiences.

COMING AROUND

Dir. Sandra Itäinen

A young queer woman stands at a crossroads with her devout Muslim mother in a clash between identity and tradition.

THE SUMMER WITH CARMEN

Dir. Zacharias Mavroeidis

While enjoying a day at a clothing-optional queer beach, an aspiring filmmaker and their handsome friend collaborate on a screenplay in this whimsical summer treat.

WE’RE HERE (Season 4 Finale)

Dir. Peter LoGreco

Join NewFest and HBO for an advance screening of the Season Four finale, followed by an exclusive virtual conversation with creators and cast.

TRIXIE MOTEL: DRAG ME HOME (Series Premiere)

Tune in for an advance screening + exclusive virtual Q&A as Trixie and her partner David explore and design a dream home fit for two!

TO WONG FOO, THANKS FOR EVERYTHING! JULIE NEWMAR (Outdoor Screening)

Kick off NewFest’s new partnership with Universal Pictures – “Pride Summer Movie Nights at Rockefeller Center”

IN-PERSON + STREAMING
VIP All Access Pass — $185
Discount for NewFest Members

All in-person screenings and events (including Opening Night Film & Party, and Women’s Afternoon Out) and virtual screenings. Early access to theater and reserved seats. Learn how to fulfill passes here.


IN–PERSON
Individual Film Ticket – $19.50
Discount for NewFest Members
In-Person access to a single screening. Does not include A HOUSE IS NOT A DISCO or Women’s Afternoon Out Tickets.

Opening Night Film + Party Ticket – $50
Discount for NewFest Members
In-Person access to the Opening Night Film A HOUSE IS NOT A DISCO and the following party. 

Women’s Afternoon Out + THE QUEEN OF MY DREAMS Ticket – $30
Discount for NewFest Members
In-Person access to Women’s Afternoon Out Brunch prior to the screening of THE QUEEN OF MY DREAMS.

In-Person All Access Pass — $115
Discount for NewFest Members
Includes all in-person screenings, including Opening Night Film & Party, and Women’s Afternoon Out. Learn how to fulfill passes here.


STREAMING
Virtual Pass — $30
Discount for NewFest Members
Virtual access to select screenings. Does not include in-person Q&A’s, however there are a select number of virtual Q&A’s available. All films screening virtually are available May 30 at 12 PM EST through June 3 at 11:59 PM EST. Streaming anywhere in the United States. Individual tickets are only available for WE’RE HERE and TRIXIE MOTEL: DRAG ME HOME.

* Virtual passes and individual tickets are discounted for NewFest Members. Haven’t joined yet? Become a member today!

Mother Comes To The Rescue

BenjaminLeave a comment

When a child gets lost in the forest a mother’s wisdom saves the day!

Once upon a time, in a small town located far away from the big cities between rolling hills and lush forests, there lived a young child named Alex. With their adventurous spirit, Alex was always eager to explore the world around them. But one sunny day, their curiosity led them into a problematic situation.

Alex ventured into the woods near their home on a warm summer afternoon. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, and the sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting a dappled pattern on the forest floor. With a sense of excitement bubbling inside them, they wandered deeper and deeper into the dense foliage, chasing after the fluttering wings of butterflies and the rustling of unseen creatures.

As the hours passed, Alex became utterly lost in the enchanting beauty of the forest. But as the sun began to dip below the horizon, panic started to set in. They realized they had strayed too far from home and had no idea which direction to go.

Frightened and alone, Alex’s heart raced in their chest. They called for help, their voice echoing through the trees. But there was no response, just the eerie silence of the forest at dusk. Tears welled up in their eyes as they sank to the ground, feeling a mix of hopelessness and fear.

Meanwhile, in the town, Sarah’s worry had transformed into a fierce determination. When her child didn’t return home at their usual time, she didn’t hesitate. She rallied a group of neighbors and friends, her unwavering love for Alex fueling their efforts.

With flashlights and determination in their hearts, they combed through the woods, calling out Alex’s name. Hours passed with no sign of the lost child, and fear gnawed at Sarah’s heart. Her worry turned into a desperate ache, her determination fueling her every step.

Just as she was beginning to lose hope, Sarah heard a faint cry in the distance. With renewed energy, she followed the sound, pushing through the underbrush until she stumbled upon a clearing where Alex sat, trembling and exhausted.

Relief washed over Sarah like a tidal wave as she rushed to her child’s side, her heart bursting with joy. Tears of happiness streamed down her cheeks as she whispered words of comfort and love, her voice a soothing balm to Alex’s trembling form.

Wrapped in their mother’s arms, Alex felt safe and protected, knowing that no matter their adventures, their mother would always be there to guide them home. And on that fateful day, Sarah’s unwavering love and determination saved Alex’s life, proving that a mother’s love knows no bounds. In the aftermath, they both learned the importance of staying close and the strength of their bond.

A SMALL TOWN VOLUNTEER AMBULANCE TEENAGE DRIVER

BenjaminLeave a comment
BenG

AT 16 YEARS OLD I VOLUNTEERED AS A DISPATCHER FOR OUR POLICE DEPARTMENT AND AMBULANCE SERVICE. I DROVE HALF THE PEOPLE IN OUR TOWN TO THE HOSPITAL THIRTY MILES AWAY.


In the quaint town of Binger, nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering woods, life moved at its own unhurried pace. It was the 1970s, and I, at the tender age of sixteen, found myself immersed in the h.eart of the community as a volunteer dispatcher and ambulance driver.

Binger boasted a modest population of 850 souls, a close-knit tapestry of neighbors who looked out for one another. Our town’s medical emergencies were once tended to by the local undertaker, a man of solemn demeanor and a heart of gold. But as time marched on, age had caught up with his trusty driver, rendering him unable to steer the old ambulance through the town’s winding streets.

With a sense of duty and a touch of nostalgia, the undertaker donated his faithful 1962 Buick station wagon to serve as our makeshift ambulance. It was a relic of bygone days, rigged with flashing lights, a wailing siren, a sturdy stretcher, and a precious oxygen bottle. Thus, a new chapter unfolded in Binger’s history, with a rotating roster of ten volunteers, including myself, standing ready to answer the call of distress.

In those days, the rhythm of life was punctuated by the shrill ring of the telephone, summoning us into action. I would leap into the driver’s seat, adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I raced through the streets, navigating the twists and turns with practiced precision. The urgency of the situation would lend wings to my feet as I rushed to the aid of my fellow townsfolk.

The years rolled by, and Binger evolved. In 1978, the benevolent gesture of the Chevrolet dealer brought a gleaming new station wagon into our midst, a symbol of progress and prosperity. We felt like modern-day heroes, equipped with state-of-the-art technology to serve our community.

But as the 1980s dawned, change swept across the land. The state enacted stringent laws mandating EMT training and certification for ambulance attendants, a noble but burdensome requirement. Our volunteer organization, unable to meet the new standards, faced dissolution.

With heavy hearts, we bid farewell to an era marked by camaraderie and selflessness. The nearest ambulance service now lay twenty-eight miles away, a stark reminder of the passage of time and the inexorable march of progress.

Yet, amidst the bittersweet farewell, the spirit of Binger endured, a testament to the resilience of small-town values and the enduring bonds of community. And though our roles as volunteer dispatchers and ambulance drivers may have faded into memory, the echoes of our service reverberated through the annals of time, forever etched in the fabric of Binger’s history.

LOVE ENDURES THE TEST OF TIME ESPECIALLY DURING A TIME WHEN LOVE COULD BE CHALLENGED

BenjaminLeave a comment

In the vast expanse of the Indian Territory, amidst the rugged terrain and the promise of new beginnings, two souls found each other amidst the chaos of land claims and dreams of prosperity. Vol Wilhelm Groff, a spirited young man with a penchant for adventure, and Joseph McElroy, a quiet and contemplative soul, crossed paths in the unforgiving landscape of Oklahoma in the year 1905.

The Indian Territory was a land of opportunity, where dreams clashed with harsh reality, and where individuals staked their claims in the hopes of carving out a future for themselves. Val and Joseph were among those brave souls, drawn to the promise of a better life on the frontier.

Their meeting was serendipitous, a chance encounter amidst the chaos of land rushes and bustling settlements. Val, with his infectious enthusiasm, captured Joseph’s attention from the moment they first locked eyes. Despite their differences in temperament, they found a deep connection that transcended words.

Val and Joesph
Photo Taken In Okarche Oklahoma

As they worked side by side, staking their claims and building their homesteads from the ground up, their bond grew stronger with each passing day. Amidst the challenges of frontier life, they found solace in each other’s presence, drawing strength from their shared dreams and aspirations.

But theirs was a love that dared not speak its name in the harsh reality of the early 20th century. In a world where societal norms dictated strict conformity, Val and Joseph had to tread carefully, concealing their love from prying eyes.

Yet, despite the obstacles they faced, their love endured, a beacon of hope in a world fraught with uncertainty. Through the trials and tribulations of frontier life, they remained steadfast in their devotion to each other, finding solace in the quiet moments shared beneath the starry Oklahoma sky.

As the years passed and the Indian Territory evolved into the state of Oklahoma, Val and Joseph’s love stood the test of time, a testament to the enduring power of love in the face of adversity. And though their names may have been forgotten by history, their love story lived on, a reminder that true love knows no bounds, not even the vast expanse of the American frontier.

Forty Three Years And Counting

BenjaminLeave a comment

In the picturesque fusion of a town that captures the charm of Mayberry and the boundless frontier of Star Trek, two hearts found a love that defies time and space. Meet Ben and Steve, a couple whose love story is as enchanting as it is enduring—a beacon of hope and resilience that inspires all who witness it.

Ben and Steve

Steve, whose eyes sparkle like the constellations he admires, has always been a dreamer, casting his gaze toward the heavens with wonder and curiosity. On the other hand, Ben embodies justice and bravery, fearlessly chasing down thieves and reclaiming stolen cars. His badge shines brightly as a symbol of his commitment to protecting others.

Their worlds may seem galaxies apart, with Steve whispering messages to the cosmos through his microphone and Ben upholding the law with unwavering dedication. Still, these very differences make their love story so captivating. United by a love transcending boundaries, they lean on each other, their bond unbreakable, and their passion ever-growing.

Their love story began over four decades ago, a chance encounter that set the stage for a lifetime of shared dreams and unwavering commitment. Fourteen years ago, they leaped into matrimony, not just as a legal union but as a testament to their enduring love and resilience. In the face of uncertainty, it was a promise that their love would remain steadfast and accurate, and no matter what challenges lay ahead or rights that might be under threat, they would forever be united.

As the years have passed, their love has only grown stronger. They still greet each day with breakfast together, their laughter and companionship a testament to their enduring friendship and love. When future generations look back, marveling at how they managed to keep the flame of love alive for so long, the answer will be simple: it’s because of Ben and Steve and their unwavering passion and commitment to each other.

So, here’s to the kisses shared and the laughter exchanged, the dreams dreamed, and the challenges overcome. Their happiness is a daily reminder of the power of love, a beautiful reality that reminds us all to believe in the magic of true love. Cheers to Ben and Steve, whose love story inspires and enchants us all, proving that true love is timeless and everlasting.

“Why do you back Joe Biden if you advocate for more young people in office?”

FeaturedLeave a comment

A Reanalysis by Benjamin G. benandsteve.com

This election isn’t about pitting the young against the old. It’s about ensuring that Gen Z and Millennials, who constitute a significant third of our nation’s population, have representation that mirrors their presence.

David Hogg Leaders We Deserve
PBS Interview

Although remembered as older, numerous influential leaders initiated their activism in their youth. We aim to support these leaders—like John Lewis, who embarked on a mission for vital change at a young age and became one of our country’s most pivotal and influential leaders.

Our goal is straightforward: elect more youthful leaders capable of introducing fresh perspectives into our government. 

Numerous barriers have historically prevented young people from entering public service and achieving the representation they deserve. Those who support America for all should make every effort to assist young candidates in overcoming these obstacles.

Visit Leaders We Deserve

After the setbacks of 2016, the 2018 blue wave brought the Democratic Party a renewed recognition of the influence young voters wield. In 2020, Joe Biden’s election, which was largely driven by the substantial turnout from Millennial and Gen Z voters, showcased the power of youthful participation. Your voice matters, and your vote can shape the course of our nation.

Vist The Post On Leaders We Deserve Winning!

In 2022, young voters reaffirmed their electoral influence, thwarting the anticipated “red wave.” Emerging young leaders like Justin Jones in Tennessee and Maxwell Frost in Florida gained prominence. Groups like “Leaders We Deserve” also celebrated their first endorsement success with Nadarius Clark’s election in Virginia.

Listen To Interview of radio interview

The benefits of electing young leaders extend beyond Gen Z and Millennials; they enrich the nation and shape our future. Commencing political involvement at a young age capitalizes on time, making it a potent political ally. Gen Z’s potential longevity in Capitol Hill eclipses many, underscoring the urgency of their ascent to power. The time to act is now.

If you resonate with a mission and aspire to bolster the election of deserving leaders in 2024 and beyond, please act to support feasible campaigns like “Leaders We Deserve” to support their endeavors or find a campaign that will help elect a Democratic Candidate to office.

A Vote For Trump Is A Vote Against Democracy! Remember, Vote Blue When You Do!

Challenges and Solutions for Homelessness in America

FeaturedLeave a comment
Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.com

BY: BENJAMIN G

Photo by Timur Weber on Pexels.com

My household has always maintained a relatively liberal understanding of the country’s homeless situation. We disagree with outlawing their right to exist and have a place to live and shelter. They are, after all, doing the best they can with the current housing, employment, transportation, or other issues they face. Let them be!

Photo by Rosemary Ketchum on Pexels.com

That is what our stance has been all along, until we went out to breakfast this past weekend and the police department was herding a group along the main boulevard we take to our restaurant. They appeared to be the characters you don’t want to run into in a dark alley at night—or daytime, for that matter. For Christ’s sake, were they planning to put roots down behind our neighborhood. We have a wall around the place, but salespeople always jump in and try to knock on doors. We have security but are not the type that can handle these characters. Every winter, we have a homeless troupe that typically arrives and camps near a river, but they are the same people every year, and they are like the snowbirds who flow in and out of the area from the north. These new homeless characters were of a family we never experienced before. 

And that is what is scaring so many in America. The police found a suitable place for the troupe to travel on to, and there were no more sights of them after that initial spotting. But that is different for many in the country. These homeless populations inundate their communities, and it is an issue they have never before had to face. What if they are following suit? How many more will come? What problems will they bring with them? Will the property values deflate wherever they plant a stake? Jesus, are they diseased? 

California has spent billions of dollars trying to fix its homeless problem and has failed to find a solution. The issue is greater there now than ever. Affordable housing remains unobtainable to those needing it. California is asking people to build tiny homes in their backyards, garages, wherever there is space, and make them available to house people. The problem is, if folks don’t want them in their alleys, will they want them in their garages?

Locally in Phoenix, Arizona. My husband hired an unhoused person years ago and knew she was, although she had not disclosed so on her introduction form. He worked with her schedule to make sure she kept her employment, and within six months, she was able to get a studio apartment, moving from her car. She then told him. He said he knew all along, and that is why he had worked so hard to keep her going, and she turned out to be one of the best employees. Such an example may not be the case with every person, but it is an example of how we can attribute ourselves to improving the situation one person at a time.

While feeling uneasy about sudden changes in your community is natural, it’s important to remember that homelessness is not a choice for many people. They often face a variety of challenges, including mental health issues, substance abuse, lack of affordable housing, and unemployment, which can contribute to their situation.

As for the broader issue of homelessness, it’s clear that a comprehensive and compassionate approach is needed to address the root causes and provide effective solutions. This approach may include increasing access to affordable housing, expanding mental health and addiction services, and providing job training and employment opportunities for homeless individuals.

The Supreme Court now has the issue, and the Lord only knows what they will come up with. But no doubt Texas will pass a law ordering the execution of all homeless people after 30 days of being homeless.