Mother's Empire the gay MAFIA of KC
Home | The NEW Smash Hit Website Book! | Something that I almost forgot | The HORRORS of Group Home Life! | The We Be Bitch's Health Clinic | Will Probation Ever End? | Book Reviews | Recent Flyers
The NEW Smash Hit Website Book!

I will donate 10% of my book
profits to Amfar.

Author, James Nile


Mothers Empire, the gay MAFIA of Kansas City, is based on my life. This book was written, edited, and produced, by its author, James Nile. The book also contains historical information about Kansas Citys gay community. Many of the names, of many people, in this book have been changed. Not to really, Protect their innocence. Rather to protect my innocence. I have spent many happy hours recollecting information, for this book. I hope that you enjoy reading my book.

Please excuse all of the mistakes that are computer-generated. For example: the Left hand margin is not always correct. Sometimes the web page doesn't allow for punctuation marks. (I.E. Parentheses and Quotation marks.)

Copyright 2001, James Nile, All Rights Reserved

Dear Concerned:

Having owned, and operated several businesses, in the Greater Kansas City Area, for over Fifteen (15) years; a new book has been written, and published about this subject. The book will be entitled, "Mother's Empire, the gay MAFIA of Kansas City."

I owned and operated Abbot Entertainment. Mother's House. The Den. The Boarding House. And a limousine service. Along with One's involvement with the State of Missouri 's AIDS Prevention Council. And the Founding/Direction of ACT-UP, II. Kansas City

This may seem like a lot of subjects to cover. However, One was also a fugitive, while living in San Diego, CA, for one year. Also, operating Abbot Entertainment. During this time, of being a fugitive, from Kansas City, One was convicted of Pimping, and spent over eighteen (18) months, at Avenal State Prison, CA.

The past five- (5) years, of One's life, have been the most colorful. A book could be written, about that alone. My book will be much more outrageous than Tommy Pendergast, or Bob Berdella. Two of Kansas Cities notorious figures.

The gay MAFIA of Kansas City
by James Nile

My mother, Sharon, told me that the day that I was born, the weather was terrible. It was horribly cold outside. And there was a blizzard. It was December 30Th, 1959. Around 10:15 a.m. "Coffee break time", said my mother. I was also two weeks premature. Apparently, my mother had a hard time delivering me. Dr. Gold decided to use a Double- High forceps, to remove my tiny head, from my mothers womb. I had an ugly birth photograph. I was all black and blue. It looked as though I had been through a war.

I was taken hoe after surviving this nasty ordeal. My parents had a handsome three-bedroom home, in Des Moines, IA's South Side. I was the second child born to our family. After my three and one half year older brother Rex Allen. He was named after my father Rex. I was named after my fraternal grandfather, James. My mother said that she wanted to name me Randy. However, my father insisted on naming me James Neil Pike.

Apparently, life in our family was not what it appeared to be on the outside. My mother then and still to this day a grand illusionist. I was also told by other relatives that my father was also superficial. My father was also physically and verbally abusive to my mother

My Grandfather James owned several successful companies. Heating, Cooling, Plumbing, and Trucking. My relatives told me that most people very well liked James "Curly," Pike. Curly was an honest, hard -working, and reliable man. Unlike my father Rex. My father was said to have been spoiled, lazy, and he thought himself to be quite the ladies man. My father resembled Rock Hudson or Elvis Presley.

My grandmother Dorothy asked my grandfather James to sell all of their business concerns, in Des Moines, Iowa, and move to Phoenix, Arizona. They would then open a gift shop for rich people. They did exactly that; and they went bankrupt within a year. Then they had to start over with their lives.

My mother looked a lot like Elizabeth Taylor. My mother had also thought of herself as being something special to men. A Fem Fatale. She told me that she kept a diary when she was young. She said, "I had over Fifty (50) boyfriends before I was Sixteen (16)." "Your Grandmother found my diary, and burned it in the trash!"

Several relatives had told me that my Parents made a lovely couple. They just couldnt understand why my Parents could have any problems. Beauty is truly only "Skin deep." Ask my Relative's.

I remember asking my mother, when I was about two (2) years old, "Where is Daddy?" I was later told, by my mother that, "Daddy left." At the time I was about two years old. My parents were divorced. This of course sent our family into a tailspin. Apparently, sometime after my Parent's Divorce; my Father had moved to Phoenix, AZ. He was living with his parent's. The horrible aspect was: that dear dad was not paying any alimony or child support.

My mother had been a housewife for many years. After all of my fathers physical and verbal abuse, it was time for a divorce. My mom found a job as a legal secretary. She worked for a very good Criminal law firm. I remember visiting the law firm, as a child, and the other Legal secretary Sandy, who worked there. Sandy became a life-long friend of my mother, and family.

Since all of this radical change in our lives, we were struggling to make ends meet. My Maternal Grandmother, Eveline Lowder, was a very strong willed and staunchly Methodist lady. I remember many conversations in which my Grandmother and Mother argued. It was usually about my Mother dating men. Mom had to tow the line morally with my Grandmother. Yet, she was still a young and very beautiful woman.

My Maternal Grandparent's, were always very down to earth. They were Democrats. My Grandmother was a self-employed seamstress all of her life. Grandma taught Sunday school for over fifty (50) years, in Des Moines, IA. She was later given an awards ceremony and a plaque. My Grandfather worked for the electric company. He was a union member. However he always said that he hated the union. Grandpas personality always reminded us of the character "Archie Bunker," from the hit TV Show, "All in the Family."

Grandpa seemed to be very tall, and strong. He was bald and resembled Yule Brenner, or Telly Savallas, the famous movie, and TV actors. He was very macho, and aggressive. Sometimes, he frightened me. He was known to have terrible bouts of mean temperedness. Other times he would not speak to anyone for several days. Perhaps, that is where my Mother and I get our moodiness.

Mother would have horrible mood swings. She reminds me of Joan Crawford, in the movie, "Mommie Dearest." She would spend hours in the bathroom crying. I would come in and ask her, "What's wrong, Mom?" She would usually try to appreciate my comforting her. Other times she would scream and order me out of the bathroom. My Brother and I never knew how to take our Mothers moodiness. He had also mentioned to stay away from Mom, when, "She was in one of her bad moods."

My brother was older and taller than I was. However, compared to most children his age, he was short. He was the original ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.) Before anyone had the knowledge of the disorder or the names. Rex Allen, my brother was never called, "Rex." That would have reminded our Mother and family of our Father Rex. Father Rex Allen, and my brother Rex, shared the same middle name of Allen.

Rex Allen, Jr., was always into trouble. He wasnt really a "Bad" kid. He just did stupid things. He was fascinated by fire. Once Rex Allen started the lawn on fire, while raking and burning leaves. One time he dumped an entire gallon of gasoline into the trash burner. The burner exploded and fell over. The explosion rocked the windows of the other neighbors houses. When my Mother asked Rex Allen, "What the HELL did you do?" Rex Allen replied, "Nothing, the trash burner fell over." Over course Rex Allen was drug inside the house, while I was ordered to stay outside, while my Mother beat him!

Our Grandmother usually excused us. After the lawn-burning incident, Grandma told us, including Mom, "Don't worry about the lawn." "The grass was the only thing that burned, and not the house." "The grass will come up sooner in the spring." She also said to my Mother, "Sharon, youre making a Mountain out of a Mole hill." Of course Mom was furious. Grandma only, "Added fuel to the fire," Mom said.

On many weekends, Mom would want to go out on dates. Grandma allowed her to be involved with the Eastern Star Lodge. Grandma made beautiful gowns, for Mom, to wear to special functions, at the Eastern Star Lodge. I once asked my Mom and Grandmother, "Is Mom going to wear her Sheet, to the party." I thought that Moms long gown resembled a long bed sheet! Of course everyone laughed at my comments.

Even though our life was far from "perfect," I was an entertaining and smart little kid. I was always joking, singing, and being silly. However, I had a terrible temper. I would get angry and hold my breath until I turned blue, and passed out! This scared my Mother.
She even said that she took me to the Doctor, and asked him about my anger fits. He told her, "Just ignore Jamie, whenever he throws one of his fits." "Go into another room." "He will wake up and realize that he didnt scare you." Apparently, this method of ignoring me worked. I soon stopped getting mad, and passing out. However, I just stayed awake, and threw my rage longer.

Later, my Mother would describe me as the child actor in the movie, "Home Alone." She said that I set timers on the lights and stereos. And I also set some booby traps for the would-be burglars, whenever we went on vacation.

This terrible anger, inside me, must have been coming from the confusion of not having our Dad around. Our Grandparents tried to over-compensate, for the lack of our Fathers presence. I probably still have a lot of hidden anger, and frustration, due to my Fathers abandonment. Abandonment is also a form of abuse. That is something that my parents and my stepfather will never admit to, even to this day.

Thus, with an over-powering and moody Mother, a non-existent Father, and over-compensating Grandparent's, its a wonder that I grew up with any "normal" semblance of authority at all.

This confusion, created by my childhood relative's, still haunts me to this day. The psychological instability, of my childhood also still affects my ability to relate to others, on a personal level. It is difficult to explain in words. However, I now realize what the emotional pain feels like. Not only did I feel my own pain in my family, but also I felt, and saw my Mother's pain during those years.

Starting out in kindergarten was a blast! My Grandmother gave me a little lecture before she dropped me off, at school. I remember that she said, "Don't cry." "Tell the teacher and all of the children Hello, when you first meet them." You are a very handsome young man, and Ill bet that the girls will really like you!" "You with your pretty blonde hair, and those big brown eyes." "Don't be scared of anything." "You'll be just fine." I just wanted to run into the classroom, and meet the new kids. I was kind to Grandma, and listened to her little "lecture." Then I went on into the classroom.

As it turned out, not only did the little girls like me but the little boys liked me as well. Even though I didn't realize it at the time, my looks, and behavior were very socially acceptable. School was fun and easy. I liked to get my worksheets done first. Then I would help the other children with their worksheets. Sometimes, I got bored. However, Mrs. Moon, our teacher, found something else for me to do.

Recess and the playground were just fine. I loved the steel jungle gym, and I could hang upside down for a long time. My brother would come by to check on me. He would tell me, "Jamie get down from that Jungle Gym!" "Youre going to get sick hanging upside down for so long!"

Sometimes Rex Allen and I spent time at our Grandparent's and sometimes we spent time with our Mother. We were shuttled across town, from the Southside to the Eastside on an almost daily basis. Weekends were sometimes spent with Mom, and other times we stayed with our Grandparent's. It just depended on how Mom felt. And what kind of a mood she was in.

Also, I think that when Mom was dating, and later engaged to be married, to John, an attorney, they would spend time at Mom's house. John was called, "Boo-Boo." It was a nickname that Grandpa made up. Grandpa said, "Whenever John makes a mistake it is usually a BIG Boo-Boo!"

Boo-Boo was a nice man. We went horseback riding, to movies, swimming, ice-skating, (my ankles were never strong enough to support my legs), and he even took me birthday shopping one year. Mom, Boo-Boo, and I went downtown, and he let me buy a lot of toys. The ones that I remembered were called "Flintstones Building Blocks." They were Styrofoam building blocks that assembled into an igloo, and bowling set.

Every now and then, Mom and Boo-Boo would have a terrible fight! It usually started during dinner, and then Boo-Boo would excuse himself, and leave. He was always trying to apologize to us, for his behavior. However, Rex Allen, and I also knew about Moms opinions, and her bad temper. He always told Mom and us that he loved us, and that he would be back later. He didn't want us to think that we would be abandoned by him.

Mom and John were engaged to be married. I remember the marquise diamond ring; with baguettes that John bought Mom, before their marriage. Mom and John never married. Mom said, "We never see eye-to-eye about money."

John, "Boo-Boo," over twenty years later, became the Chief Justice of the Iowa Supreme Court of Appeals. Mom was his Office Manager. However, I will explain all of this later.

The next year Rex Allen and I attended First grade. This school was about one mile from our Mom's house. It was a nice school, and the Des Moines Childrens Zoo was across the street. Apparently, Mom had decided to not drag us clear across town, to attend school, all during the school week. That suited us just fine.

Mom had a close friend named June. Junes husband Skip was in the Navy. They had two sons named Doug and Dana. Doug and Dana were about the same age as Rex Allen, and I. Mom and June would take turns babysitting us. It was almost an extended family situation. Skip was never around, and that seemed to be just fine for June and Mom.

During this time Mom dated another lawyer named Sam. That relationship didnt last very long. Several years later I told Mom, "Sam and you are just too much alike to ever get married." Mom got mad at me. Then later she agreed and apologized. Sam also became a judge. Does anyone see a pattern here?
The next man that Mom dated was Sam's long-time friend, Charles A. Hanson. Most people call him "Chuck." Mom referred to him as "Charlie." Charlie was an Equitable of Iowa Life Insurance Company Executive.
I remember that he drove a light blue convertible car. We used to go for rides, and attend parades in his car. It was fun

I had a girlfriend named Pam. Pam had brown hair and brown eyes. It was an awful winter day. Pam and I were on the playground. There was a big circle of frozen ice. Pam said, come on Jamie, let's go across the ice. I said, No, Pam, the Principal, and the Teachers said not to walk on the ice. Pam insisted that I cross the ice. I did. No sooner did I get to the middle of the ice, and then I fell down on my left arm! It really hurt. I got up. Later we went inside.

I showed my arm to a teacher, and she said, "I think that you should go and see the nurse." I did just that. The Nurse said, Jamie, I think that you wrist is broken. I'll calls your parents. She then called my parents. I went to Dr. Glair's office. He had twenty (20) patients in his waiting room. After about forty-five minutes, Dad was really getting mad. He told the receptionist, Tell Dr. Glair that if he is a type of Doctor at all, he will meet us at the Emergency Room! Off we went to the Emergency room.

Well, I spent over six weeks in a plaster cast. Luckily, it was winter, and the cast was not hot. Pam and I broke up. If First grade kids really get, together. It was just, "Puppy Love."

During the second grade, I had a wonderful teacher. Her name was Mrs. Wright. She was artistically talented. She drew and painted, and even sewed things artfully. Her husband Bob was an attorney.

The Wrights didnt have any children. One Saturday, Mrs. Wright asked my Mom if she could take me to the Childrens zoo. Of course, my Mom said. Mrs. Wright and I rode the train around the entire zoo. We looked at all of the animals, and tried to pronounce their Latin names. We had a blast!

Upon leaving, a security guard stopped us and asked me, "Is this your Nanny?" "Is this your Housekeeper?" "Is she your maid?" "Who is this Negro woman?"

Mrs. Wright told the guard, "I'm his Second grade school teacher." "I am college educated woman." "I'm licensed by the State of Iowa to teach school across the street!"

I didnt understand what that meant. I just loved Mrs. Wright. I started crying. The guard said, "Call you Mom at home." She will have to bring something to me that proves that she is your Mother!" Mrs. Wright gave me a dime. I tried to call my Mom. However, it was one of those brand new push-button pay telephones. Finally, Mrs. Wright punched the numbers, and I spoke to my Mother.

Needless to say Mom was really angry. As a matter of fact it was one of the worst fits that I've ever seen her throw. Mom called him every name in the book. Mom told him that Mr. Wright was a respectable attorney, and that He should sue the Zoo, and this security guard!

Later, Mom, and Charlie, and the Wright's had dinner together. Even though it was 1966, and in Des Moines, IA, the Wrights decided not to sue anyone. I found out later that the security guard had been fired. Of course I still didnt understand what had happened. Second grade students obviously know nothing about discrimination or racism.

Mom and Charlie Hanson were married. Rex Allen and I were at the wedding. It was summer, and really hot. I still hate summer to this day. Give me winter with lots of warm clothes to wear, and I am happy.

There were many things about Charlie Hanson that Rex Allen and I was never told. Some things that were later told to us by our Grandmother. Which I will explain later.

As a very young boy, I had told mom that; "You are going to have two babies at one time." Mom said, "They are called Twins." "Twins do not run in our family, Mom said." I also told Mom, "Someday we are going to live a red house with big white posts." Mom said, "Posts?" "Do you mean Pillars?" She exclaimed

on 12/15/1967, Mom gave birth to twin girls. They were named Julie and Cathy. They were brought home from the hospital, and I was elated. However, Charles Mom shortly there after died in her sleep. Upon arrival in Des Moines, IA, she had said, "I wanted to see that Chuck was married and happy."

Our family was on the front page of the Des Moines Register. Sam and Charlie had also arranged to have Rex Allen, and I adopted upon the same day, that the twins were born. 12/15/1967.

The next plan for our family was to sell our house. Mom and Dad had decided on building a Colonial-style red brick home, with white pillars! Dad showed me the blueprints. He asked me, "Jamie is there anything on these plans that you would like to be changed?" I replied, "Yes, the backdoor to the garage is on the wrong side." And "The ceiling leading upstairs is too high!" Both things were never changed before building the house. Dad complained about these things on several later occasions.

During third grade, I remember being very popular. Another boy, named David, and I had a Gang. We ruled the playground at recess. We saw that the girls were protected. We took care of unruly boys. Our third grade teacher, Ms. Jones, called my Mom and said, "Jamie is the leader of a gang on the playground." He and another boy take care of any problems that might happen." I was told later that Mom just said, "Well, we want him to be a leader!" Hmmm. Could this have been the start of Ones, "Gangster mentality?"

In third grade I also won a writing contest. Then teacher gave us seven (7) British words. And she gave us seven (7) American-English words. We were supposed to create a story using all of those words. I won the story-creating contest. The prize was a Tootsie pop.

Next year, when I was in the fourth grade, was the start of something grand! Our school housed 4Th-9Th graders. We had big musicals. With live bands, singing, and dancing. All of us kids sold tickets. I started singing in a chorus. I was given the solo, Candy Man. From the movie, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I missed a few lines and notes, but I had fun doing it. This took my family by surprise when a neighbor called my Mom, and told her that I had a solo singing act. I had forgotten to tell my Family about my solo performance.

I also started to play the flute. I took lessons at school for six months, and then the teacher said you are ready to study the Piccolo. Usually, you must study the flute for three years before you can study the Piccolo. She also informed me that she could no longer be my music teacher. She suggested that I attend Drake University, to study the Flute.

When I came home to inform my Mom about the good news she said, "Let me call your Grandmother." She called grandmother. Grandmother said, "My father, who was deceased, that Jamie has never met, used to take out a little black flute." "It was after dinner", Grandma said. "He would play our favorite songs." "Then we would go to bed." "If Jamie wants to play the flute, Ill buy one for him, and pay for his lessons," was Grandmas response.

Naturally, she did exactly that. I studied the Flute and Piccolo for the next 8-10 years. The older students at Drake University would see me carrying my instrument case around. They would ask me, "How old are you?" I would tell them that, "I was in fifth grade." They would say, "You must be gifted." I didnt know what gifted meant. I would just say, "No, my name is Jamie."

Chapter 2

Somehow, I just didn't seem to think of myself as being Different. I certainly didnt think of myself as being, Strange. Looking back, like most kids, I just enjoyed life.

In the Fifth grade I won a, Cloud naming Contest. The teacher had drawings of various Cloud formations. Then there were Latin names for the Cloud pictures. I memorized the Cloud names, and won the contest. I think I got a Charms Blow pop as a prize.

In the Sixth grade we had an, International Studies, week. I drew a picture of the Kremlin, in Moscow, Russia. I don't remember what prize I had won.

In the Seventh Grade, I won a prize in Art class. I made a mosaic of the Greek, Comedy and Tragedy Masks. Later that year, in World History Class, I won an award for an original painting of two, Busts of Greek Men.

Some of this was about to change. Since our school, Brody Jr. High school had 4Th-9Th grade students; our Physical Education class had boys in all different age groups. This caused more problems, than the PE Instructor would be smart enough to admit. After all, a nine-year-old boy will never have the physical, and the sexual development, that a fourteen-year-old boy would have.

I was tall and skinny. During the Ninth grade I grew from a size 12, in boys clothes, to a size 18, in young men's clothes. Everyone swore that they could see me growing by the hour.

I even caught a weird virus. I had a temperature, dizziness, ringing in my ears, and visual fogginess. I spent three days in the hospital. Had a lot of tests. Including a Spinal Tap, in the Emergency Room. The Doctors claimed that they could find nothing wrong with me, and they sent me home. I had no medication. Not even an aspirin!

My band instructor and Accelerated English teacher, Mr. Swensen said, "Jamie; you just grew too fast during the past nine months." "Your body growth couldnt keep up with your health." Mr. Swensen was probably right. I just didnt need the hospital stay, and the stress. (I won an Art prize in Mr. Swensen's Ninth Grade Accelerated English Class. I made an original painting for the novel, Harvest Home, by Tyrone.

The evening before the very last day, of Seventh (7th) grade I had a weird feeling. I begged my Parents to stay home on the last day of school. I pleaded, and yelled, and cried to stay home the next day, from school. My parents refused to allow me to stay home from school. They told me, "You have to go to school tomorrow." "You wont get your final report card, if you don't go to school tomorrow, my Parent's exclaimed."

The next day I went to school. At 8:30 a.m., as I was going to First (1St) hour class. A very muscular, large black boy hit me really hard. I fell down. When I got up, my arm was all contorted. Two bones had popped out of my arm. I looked at my arm, and thought that I could, Fix, it. I bent my arm down into its usual position. A pain surged through my arm that felt like a Million volts of electricity. I opened the door to the Nurses Office and went in.

The Nurse just about fainted when she saw my mangled-up arm. She immediately asked me my Mothers Home Telephone number. I told her the numbers. She called my Mom. She called an ambulance. And everyone asked me who broke your arm, Jamie? I said, "Lorenzo."

I spent all summer in a cast. Lorenzo was never punished. However, several years later, Lorenzo's family lost everything that they owned in a mysterious fire!

In the Seventh grade, I started dating a girl named Terri. Terri had beautiful Auburn hair. We went to movies, basketball games, football games, and a local pizza place on the weekends.

Terri and I were very serious about our relationship. One day, in the Tenth grade, we decided to, Jip, (Not attend) school. We were at Terri's home, on the couch, when Terri said, "Jamie; I hear car doors slamming outside." We peeked outside, and sure enough there was our Mothers. They got out of their cars, came up pounding on the door, and yelled at us to open the door. Then Terri's Mom ran around the back of the house, and opened the back door.

Terri and I were really shaken up after that. Our Parent's told us, we got a call from your Homeroom teacher. She told us, Jamie didn't come to school today. My Mom called Terri's Mom. Then they drove to Terri's house. We then were told that we have to take you back to school. You have to talk to the Principal about getting back into school. You have been kicked out of school.

Well, off to school we went. The Principal was a nice middle-aged man, with a mostly bald-head. He said, I think you two kids have had enough excitement for today. Promise not to do this type of thing again. We of course agreed. Our Mothers then left.

As it just so happened, I had to return to Third hour Swimming class. It was just in time to get undressed. While I was putting on my swimming trunk's, Dan said, "look! Jamies got a rubber on!" Indeed, I had forgotten to take the stupid thing off, during all of the commotion. Then, Terri, and our Escapades were all over the school.
(Dan was later found at local gay bars.)

Not that the condom information was Bad for my reputation. Its just that the kids wouldnt stop teasing us. Later, when I got home, Dad asked, "Jamie, are you and Terri having sex?" I said, "No dad." Dad said, "Thats all that I wanted to ask you." Evidently, Dad must have not cared, or he thought it was great that I got laid. (Maybe, it was one of those, "Father-to-Son bonding times?")

It seemed as though those precious Father and Son moments were fading fast. Was this because I was Fifteen years old? Or were there underlying stresses in our Family, and its interrelationships? I remember that our parents had lots of alcohol around the house. When I came downstairs in the morning, Dad would have a cup of coffee with whisky or brandy in it. He would sit at the kitchen counter, and work with his calculator, on his stock market reports.

Hmmm. I heard Mom say, Your Father has far too many Martini lunches. I worry about him at work. Dad would then come home from work, and have Sherry to drink before dinner. Wine to drink with Dinner. And he would have after dinner cocktail's.

Dad, and his best friend, Sam, decided to go on a skiing vacation, to Loveland Colorado. They had been gone for a week. When they returned, they looked horrible. They were all red-faced, and bloated, and wind-burned, from their vacation. Dad ended up getting hospitalized for Inflammation of the Liver. That was no surprise to everyone else, except Dad. Dad was obviously in denial of his Alcoholism.

Then, it was decided that Dad should go to a Psychiatrist. His name was Dr. Stein. Quite an appros. Name for the rates that he charged his clients. Dr. Stein was a very clean-cut older man. He had brilliant white hair. He always looked into people, and not at them. That always struck me as being odd. Usually, Dr. Stein wore a blue and white sear sucker suit. He reminded me of Col. Sanders, from the Kentucky Fried Chicken Fame.

Meanwhile, on the home front, Mom was ranting and raving about all of Dads pills. He was taking over twenty (20) pills a day. It was a Standard, Psychiatric procedure. Give the patients a lot of different pills to offset each others effects. Antidepressants, tranquilizers, amphetamines, etc. It was a, Pill Cocktail, of sorts. Dad was still drinking a lot of booze.

Even though it is a cliche, we had quickly become a "dysfunctional", family. I was too young, and too close to understand what that phrase meant.
Mom decided to volunteer at a local hospital. That got her out of the house. We children were in school all day. On Thursdays, Mom would go shopping Downtown. She would meet Dad and his friends for lunch. Of course most of these attorneys, and judges drank alcohol. It was part of their stressful lives. Or so they thought.

Rex Allen moved in with our Grandparent's. He wanted to attend Des Moines Technical School. He decided to study Diesel Mechanics. The school was halfway between our house, and our Grandparents. Rex Allen also had a job at a restaurant, close to our Grandparent's. This suited everyone in the Family just fine.

I remember Rex Allen coming over to visit for dinner. He was scratching, and squirming in his seat. Mom asked Rex Allen, "Do you have the He-Bee-Jee-Bees?" Rex Allen replied, "What's that?" Upon Moms investigation; Rex Allen had a case of the crabs! Rex Allen told Mom, "I've been dating a girl at work." Mom screamed, "Oh that dirty WHORE!" "You need to date some clean girls, and keep you penis in your pants!" "Maybe the next girl that you date will give you something worse, like Syphilis," Mom said.

How typically Mom. She just couldn't think about one of us kids having sex. Or getting into trouble with it. Without making a big deal of it.

At the time I was in Tenth grade. I was at school from 7:00 a.m.-11:00 p.m. I had marching band before school. School from 8:15-3:15. Then I was in Swing Choir until 5:00 p.m. Then I returned home for dinner. I went back to school for Pantomime practice from 7:00 pm.-11:00 p.m. Then I returned home, and did my homework, and crashed, until the next day. All the while, I maintained an A-Grade point average. And Terri and I tried to have a relationship.

During all of this Terri, unknown to me was secretly dating someone else. My old friend, and neighbor, Janet, informed me of Terri's affair.

I was in shock. I didn't want to believe it. I drove by Terris house late one night, and his car was parked there.

I confronted Terri about her affair. She of course denied it. She even lied, and said, "We are just friends." "I really only love you," Terri said. I was devastated. Depressed. Angry. And Hurt. I thought that I could trust Terri, while I was busy at school.

Being young, and in this first relationship, I was crushed by Terri, and her action's. I took a whole bottle of Tylenol before going to bed. Well, the next morning I was still in bed. Mom came in and found me in a pool of vomit and pills. Mom said, "Its a wonder that you didnt choke to death in your own vomit!" She then called Dad at the office.

It was decided that I would be sent to a Psychologist. His name was Dr. Mars. His office was in the same building, the Equitable of Iowa building, on a different floor. I would see him on Saturdays.

Dr. Mars was very smart and cool. He gave me a variety of tests. He even let me take some of them to my Psychology class to share. Dr. Mars taught me Self-Hypnosis. And Biofeedback. I also took some of the Biofeedback instruments home with me. Dr. Mars was the Founder/Director of the Biofeedback Center of Iowa.

My Parents were demanding to know what was Wrong, with me. Well, according to them, I had everything in the World! I was young, handsome, smart, and talented. Why would Jamie be depressed? Dr. Mars had a hard time keeping some parts of our conversations Private. While still trying to tell my Parents what we had been discussing. Many years later, Mom said to me, "Dr. Mars lied to your Father and me." "He didn't tell us the whole truth about you." (This, Lie, I interpreted as meaning my sexuality.)

I was not really gay at the time. I found another girlfriend named Cathy. Cathy was very sweet, and she loved me very much. We were once driving Moms new car. It was late afternoon. I really was blinded by the glare of sunlight. I pulled the car out from a stop sign, and hit a passing car.

I'll never forget the look on the other teenagers face. He stared directly at my crotch. I thought he was queer. Then I realized that my pants were unzipped, and I had a boner.

Driving home, Cathy and I tried to figure out something smart to tell my Parent's. However, after telling my parents the story of our accident, minus the sexual parts, Dad told me, Jamie, the father of the other driver called. His son said that, "He wasnt Queer or anything, but his son noticed that your pants were unzipped, and that you had an erection." Dad asked, "Were you and Cindy having sex?" Of course I said, No Dad! (Another Father and Son Bonding Experience?) Perhaps. Dad just said, you can't drive your Mothers car again. "You'll have to drive the Station Wagon," dad said.

Chapter 3

Cathy and I had had enough of the stupid, and immature jocks, in our high school. We asked our Counselors about graduating early. The Counselors agreed. We had more than enough credits to graduate. I had set the, Bell Curve, for the required American history class that all seniors had to take. I also received an Honorarium in Pantomime. I had helped our Pantomime ensemble win the Super State Competition. That is the equivalent of the boys winning above the State Basketball Tournament level.

The award-winning Pantomime was a slow motion Hockey game the other player acted like he had hit me with his hockey stick. I then rolled up into a ball, with my legs behind my neck! It was a blast!

It was January 1979. Cathy had a job working for a local magazine company. I found a job at a local hospital. Some rather strange things started happening to me. I had a yearning to learn about gay people. Where they go to socialize? What was their Culture?" This led to the break-up of Cathy and I. It was inevitable. And unfortunate.

Living in Des Moines, IA, there were only Three (3) gay bars. The best gay bar, at the time was called City Disco Park. It was super cool! This was at the height of the Disco era. Donna Summer, and her album Bad Girls, ruled. There was a large dance floor. On stage Drag Queens performed. The Drag Queens were young, thin, and actually pretty, considering the fact that they were still Men! City Disco Park was a place where people could go, and be themselves. None of the men got into fights. Everyone minded his or her own business.

Mom at this time was terribly concerned about where I was going to at night. I told her, "Its a place downtown. People dance and have fun!"

Well, she figured things out. She then decided to throw me out of the house. That was quite the event. I had asked my Grandparents to move in with them. They said, sure. Upon leaving the house Mom said, to my sister Julie, "Don't help Jamie move out!" "Let him do all of the moving by himself," Mom said. I told her, "Mom, some day you are going to be rich, old woman, living all alone in this big house!" Mom said, "That's fine for then." "Meanwhile you have to move out!" How typical of "Mommie Dearest."

By now it was summer. I was having fun working and going out. My Grandparent's allowed me to come and go as I pleased. They didnt care if I came home at four oclock in the morning. After all, I was eighteen years old, and at that time, considered an adult. It truly was a great time to be young!

Fall came. It was time to get enrolled in college. My ACT scores were substantial. My grade point average wasnt bad either. Dad decided that we might try Iowa State University, in Ames, Iowa. It was just twenty minutes North of Des Moines, IA. Dad made an appointment with a counselor. We drove up to ISU in Ames, IA.

We met a very nice, masculine, middle-aged professor of psychology. Only thing was that she was a masculine woman. (Maybe she was a lesbian.) Dad told her that I liked psychology, played the Flute, and Piccolo, and that I had been a Star Mime. She said, "Well from what you have told me, I think that your son might not be comfortable here." "He sounds like he would be better off at the University Of Iowa, in Iowa City, IA." Dad got this huge grin on his face and said, "That's the college that I attended, and graduated from." "I'll take Jamie there," Dad said.

Up to the University of Iowa, in Iowa City, IA we went. Dad had forgotten where everything was located. Of course it had been over thirty years since Dad had been to the U. of IA. We me another professor who seemed to understand my student/personal needs. Or at least he acted as though he did. Dad charged my first months tuition. Then we drove home. We had a good time there, and it looked like a comfortable place to live.

Summer was about over. I was packing. I bought a typewriter. Mom threw a fit. She said, "You could use the typewriter at the library." Dad intervened. He told Mom, "Jamie might be up typing late at night, when the library was closed." Dad also said, "Jamie bought the typewriter with his own money." "Leave him alone," Dad said.

Upon arriving in Iowa City, I had a new roommate. His name was Jeff. Jeff was tall and thin, and had brown hair, and hazel eyes. Jeff was from Chicago, IL. Jeff was a Preppie. Before the phrase, and the clothing were ever made. Jeff tried to impress me with the fact that he was from a bigger city. And that his parents had money and power! Boy was he ever surprised when my parents came to visit. I think that Jeff felt a little, Middle Class, next to My Mom, and Dad.

I soon amassed some very beautiful female friends. Even Jeff's girlfriend, Julia, said that, "Gee Jamie, if I werent dating Jeff, I would sure consider you as my boyfriend." I was flattered. Sharon and Beth, and Minda were two of the prettiest girls, in Iowa City. This just drove the poor little Straight boys crazy. It sure wasnt my fault that the girls preferred gay me to straight them.

I soon found a boyfriend. His name was Joe. Joe was also from Des Moines, IA. Joe was about twenty-seven (27) at the time. He once made a joke, and said, "Jamie my Father works for your Father." It was true. Equitable of Iowa Life Insurance Company, where my Father was the VP of Accounting, later bought Younker's, and Brandei's stores. Joe's Dad managed one of the Younkers stores in Des Moines, Iowa.

One evening Dad came home and said to my Mother, "Equitable is going to sell Massachusetts Causality Company for 50 Million Dollars." "Then we are going to buy Younker's. My mother replied; "Younkers are losers!" "They don't make any money," Mom said. To which Dad replied, "That's what they are supposed to do." "Younker's will loose money as a tax write- off, for the Insurance Company, which makes money," Dad said.

Mom was right. After two years, Equitable sold both Younkers, and Brandei's. They had lost too much money.

During my time of, coming out, while attending college, there were a few problems. Some of the small town and rural guys had ego problems. They would sometimes tease me, and call me a, Fag. I usually ignored them. I understood that generally speaking they were beneath me! That is not really an egotistical statement. Rather it was the truth.

On the weekends I would drive home to Des Moines, IA. Sometimes I would take other friends home with me. They would offer to give me money for gas. Usually I didnt accept any money for driving my car. I had bought my grandparents 1971 Chevy Malibu. It was royal blue, with a black vinyl top; it had a 350 engine. I could really fly home in my car!

While I was home, in Des Moines, IA, I would go out to my favorite gay bar, the City Disco Park. I had lots of friends, and life was really a ball! My boyfriend Joe would usually stay in Iowa City, IA. Too bad for him!

I had still been angry at my Parent's for their throwing me out of their house, and, Disowning, me. All because I was gay! I went to a legal clinic. I spent $200.00; to have my name legally changed. The legal clinic, and the Judge involved contacted my Parent's. (Even though I was Legally old enough to have my name Legally changed. Remember that my Father had helped to put the Judge in office.) My new legal name was now: James Ian Nile.

My Parents said to me, "Well, you are certainly old enough to change your name legally." My Grandparent's didn't care at all about my name change. My Grandmother had said, "Jamie is his, Own Person; He should have his own name," Grandma said.

During the summer, I would return to work at the hospital. I worked on the Psychiatric Ward. And I helped transport patients to other areas of the hospital. We had a strange man who worked in the Laundry. Every time that we would push the Morgue Cart past him, he would ask to see what was underneath the plastic cover.

Charles, who worked with me, and I decided to play a trick on this weird man. That worked in the Laundry. Charles climbed into the bottom of the cart. I covered him up. As I was pushing the cart, with Charles in it past the Laundry man, sure enough he asked to see what was underneath. Just as the Laundry man was reaching underneath the sheet, Charles hand came up and grabbed the Laundry mans wrist. I thought that the Laundry man was going to pass out, and die! He turned whiter than the sheet. Charles and I roared with laughter. We told the Charge Nurses, back at our Department, what we had done. They laughed and said; Well, I guess he wont be asking to see who is under the sheets again.

Along the way I had met two new people, in my life. Gherri was a very pretty sixteen- (16) year old girl. She had blonde hair, brown eyes, and she was very well endowed. We went out to different places together. Gherri couldnt drink. That was fine with me. Gherri's Mom was a Judge. She was also very pretty, and liberal and smart. Gherri's Mom once said to me, "Jamie is you and Gherri having sex?" I said, "Yes." Then Gherris Mom said, "Well I can't get you for rape if you and Gherri are having Consensual Sex." Besides the Judge said, "Your Father helped put me into office, and it just wouldnt look too good." (Politically speaking.)

Dad was the Chairman of the Polk County Magistrate and Judicial Nominating Committee. All of the lawyers, who wanted to become Judges, had to go through Dad. Then those selected attorneys names would be sent to the Governor, of the State of Iowa, to be signed into office. Incidentally, that is how Dads old friend, Tom became a Judge.

Now here is something that I consider to be very, Queer. To this day, every Thursday, Gherri, her Mom, and my Mom get together for lunch. I once asked my mother; "Do you ever wonder what my life would have been like if I had married Sherri?" Mom said, "Oh, I just like to go out to lunch with them." "I think that they are really sweet ladie's."

During my dating Gherri, I met a man named, George. George was twenty-seven (27). George was a computer programmer. He had dark blonde hair, and blue eyes. George and I would date on Friday nights. And on Saturday nights, Gheri and I would date. This dating continued for quite some months. I found it be fun. George and Gherri were aware of their, Sharing, me. They pressured me into to making a decision. One or the other, they said. I chose George. George and I continued to date for nearly a year.

I was still living with my grandparents. My grandmother grabbed me one night and said, "Jamie; there are some questions that I need to ask you." I said, "O.K.?" Grandma said, "There arent any girl's that call, or come over to visit you." "Are you having relationships with men?" I told her, "Yes." She then gave me this BIG lecture on how she loved me, and how Society hated Homosexuals. Most of what she told me was true. Considering the fact that she was pushing Sixty (60), and I was Nineteen (19). Grandma was always very smart. However, she didn't let you know how intelligently she thought. That was probably her upbringing. It made her a very strong force to be reckoned with.

Grandma asked me, "How long have you and this man been dating? I told her, "For nearly a year!" She said, I've heard of men being in love with each other for many years at a time. Then she asked, would you be more comfortable living with George. I'm not throwing you out, as your Mother did, she said. "I just thought that you would be happier with George." Grandma said. She was right. I talked to George, and he agreed. I could move in with him.

This was my first serious gay relationship. Living with someone is never the same as dating him. There is always something new to learn about each other. Well, I soon found out that George had three garbage bags full of empty booze bottles, underneath the sink. I took them out to the trash. I realized what they were. However I didnt realize what George and the alcohol did to each other.

As it turned out George had a terrible temper. He would explode emotionally, and physically, for no real reason. I would have to pin him down on the floor, and not let him up until he stopped his temper tantrum. He would always say, "Let me go! "You're hurting me!" I would not hurt George. I would just let him back up. Poor George had these, Fits of Rage, about every two weeks. I learned to live with him, and those outbursts of anger.

George had a hard time meeting people. George was smart, but George lacked social skills. George would get a job, and work for just a few months, and then he would get fired. Apparently, the people at work disliked he personality. Maybe, his drinking interfered with his work. Whatever the reasons were George had developed a really poor work history.

I had childrens Pantomime ensemble in Des Moines, IA. We were called the, "Willkie House Mimes." We took inner city black youth, and white kids from the suburbs, and put them together in public performances. Well, mixing black and white children together, in 1979, in Des Moines, IA, was not without it problems. There was a certain amount of low-level, Anxiety, going on. The discrimination and racism just wasnt obvious. It was subtle. My Grandmother and my Parents thought that the childrens group was a great idea. They had even attended performances, given by the children.

I decided to go into counseling. I went once a week to a psychologist. She was tall, had dark hair, and eyes. After a few sessions of listening to me she said, "Jamie, sometimes all of the Wrong people come into counseling." "From what you have been telling me, you are doing very well." "However, it sounds as though your friend George has a few problems to work out."

I agreed. I asked her where else I could go for socializing. I was tired of gay bars, alcohol, and all of the messed-up people. My therapist suggested that I try MENSA, the HI IQ group. Des Moines had a local chapter.

I applied, and was accepted, into MENSA. I had had IQ tests in the past. Even the Iowa Test of Basic Skills, in the eighth (8Th) grade stated that I functioned as a sophomore in college.

I found, and enjoyed many friends in MENSA. I also had George join.

One of my closest friends was the Peter's. They lived about one mile away from George, and I. the Peter's would have MENSA parties, and we would have lots of fun. The Peter's remained a great friend until their disappearance, several years ago. The Peter's and MENSA were my Social support group for many years.

During much of this time, George was unemployed. He had been sending resumes to Kansas City, looking for a job. He had a couple of interviews scheduled in KC. He asked me, "Jamie would you like to take a little trip to Kansas City?" I said, "Yes." We also had a discussion about the possibility of moving to KC. I told him that, "I really don't want to leave Des Moines, IA." "I have my family, and my Mime group located here."

We drove to Kansas City. KC was such a big city, compared to Des Moines, IA. We went to a couple of huge gay bars. We also found one of KC gay Bath Clubs. George had asked me, "Jamie, have you ever been to a gay Bath Club?" I said, "No, what is a gay Bath Club?" George tried to explain what the Bath Club was all about. George said, "A Gay Bath Club is a big place where men go, take their clothes off and have sex!" I said, "Well, that sounds like fun!"

We found the Bath Club. It was an old three-story warehouse. There was a reception desk up front. After paying a little bit of money, we were buzzed inside a big door. Inside the Bath Club, there were lots of lockers, like a gym. A younger man came around and greeted us. His name was Dan. Dan was the bathhouse Attendant. He helped me take my clothes off. I had everything taken off of me, by Dan. A towel was placed around my waist. George was not too happy about the Attendants undressing me. George was always the, jealous, type.

We then went up a long flight of stairs. Upstairs, we found rows of crude wooden rooms. There were other men, walking around, and talking to one another. That was called, cruising. A popular Gay term during the 1980s. George and I had decided to split up. Later, we would meet downstairs. Well, this was just fine with me. I ran around and talked to several men. They were all ages, sizes, and types. One of whom was named, Don.

Don was tall. 6 2, Don had blonde hair, and blue eyes. Don told me that, you are the best looking young man here! I said, Thanks! Don told me that he worked construction, with his dad. Don was from out of town. Don and I have been friends ever since.
To this day we usually go out to diner on Sunday nights. Don and I have seen each other through a lot of years. Since 1981. Over Twenty (20) years, of friendship. Including a vacation to San Francisco, CA, and Chicago, IL. Don and I also attended my Sister Cathy's wedding several years ago.

During the night at the bath club, George didn't, Score, very well that night. As I said earlier, George just didn't have a lot of, Social Skills. And Don being a new friend pissed George off. Hmmm. Later, at a gay bar, George dumped a drink on Don, because Don had offered to buy me a drink. Don reminded me of this story just last week, while we were at dinner.

This was the usual case scenario. Poor George would loose out to me. I tried to keep things as low-keyed, as possible. However; it not always possible to deal with an irrational, and jealous man. I tried to accept George and his crazy behavior for over six years.

After the fun weekend, in KC, we returned to Des Moines, IA. George had interviewed with two prospective employers. He talked to me about moving to Kansas City. I had a big decision to make. And only about a week, in which to make a great decision. George told me, "We could move to Overland Park, Kansas." "Its a suburb of Kansas City." "Its a lot Urbandale, Iowa, where we now live." I thought a lot about the big move, and the great change that would affect my life.

My Mom had said, "You have your Family, and Friends, here in Des Moines, IA." "I wouldnt want to move to Kansas City." "But do whatever you want to do." "Youre young and maybe Kansas City would be a good move for you, Mom told me."

O.K. I decided to move to Kansas City, with George. We packed-up his car and mine. We rented a sixteen- (16) foot U-Haul Trailer. George parent' were sweet, and they drove down with us, to Overland Park, KS. They helped us unload things. George and I thanked them. Upon leaving, George's mother said to me, Jamie, get George settled down before he goes to work this week. You have a way of calming him down, when he is upset.

That was a very kind thing for Georges mother to say. Actually, George's Mother and I got along very well for many years .In later years, George's sister decided to get married. Then George's mother and I had a falling out. Basically, George's sister invited both of us to her wedding. However, George's mother had told us that I was not invited to the wedding. This was after My Mom had invited George to our Family Thanksgiving Reunion. I think it made George's mother envious. Of course, George may have picked-up that character flaw, from his Mom.

I found two (2) jobs. I was an Artist-In-Residence, at the Johnson County Community College. I taught 4-8Th grade gifted students the basics of Pantomime. We had a short Mime class, and then the children gave their short performance. It was a very rewarding experience.

When it came time for me to get paid; the Director of the gifted students, Mr. Penny, tried to refuse to pay me. I gave her an ultimatum, either you pay me or the same fame that puts me in the news media, is the same fame that I will use against you, for not paying me.

A telephone call was made. An Invoice, check was printed for me. I came home that night and explained everything to George. He was impressed. He told me, the next time that I need a ruthless debit collector, I'll call you!

I also had a job at a local mall bookstore. It was one of those, Commercial, types of retail operations. I was just there to sell books, and restock the shelves. I wasnt allowed to give opinions about books that I had read. And/Or books that we sold. It really was stupid. And I didnt mind quitting that job.

I had met some interesting new friends, in Kansas City. One was named Jack. Jack was about forty years old. Jack was the founder of the Human Rights Caucus of Greater Kansas City. I later became their Vice-Chairman. Our group worked with City Hall Members, local religious groups, and even some incarcerated men. We tried to, liberalize Thinking in Kansas City. George went to the first couple of meetings, and then he dropped out. Perhaps, he was envious of my relationship with Jack?

I had another friend, named Marty, and was also a member of MENSA. Marty owned a local Mid-Town greasy spoon restaurant. He was tall, had gray hair, and had a very, Professorial, type of character, and appearance. Marty and I were friends, in spite of George's approval. Both Jack, and Marty were friends of mine for many years. Apparently, when I make close friends, we remain close for many years. I think that is a personality attribute, which my Mother also possesses.

Marty and I went to the local museums, movies, and lunch once a week. His twenty-four hour a day restaurant kept him occupied. Even though Marty didn't want to get involved with the day- to- day business operations.

George had lost and gained a couple more jobs. His personality and drinking were getting the best of him. I had to contend with his, Temper Tantrums, every two weeks, or often. He was a lot for me to bear psychologically. However, I really loved George and I tried to help him, as much as I could.

During all of this instability; I longed to find my Biological Father. I called the Phoenix Arizona telephone directory Service. I asked the Operator for, "A Mister Rex Allen Pike." I held my breath. The Operator gave me the number, and his address. I was in shock! I had not had any contact with my Father in over twenty-three (23) years!

I wrote a brief note to my Father. About a week later, after I had been out on a walk, George said, "Jamie, there is a man on the phone who wants to speak to you." I said, "Who is it?" George said, "I know who is on the phone." "But he told me not to tell you." "Its a surprise, George said. I grabbed the telephone and said, "Who is this?" There was a very long pause on the other end. There was also a lot of long-distance static on the phone.
The voice on the other end said, "This is your Father, Rex Pike in Phoenix Arizona." "I got your letter," he said. I was flabbergasted. I didnt know what to say. Then he said, "Ill send you an airline ticket, if you want to come and visit." I said, "Wow!" He said, "Could you come to visit after Christmas?" I said, "Sure!" Then he said, "O.K., Ill call you back later with more details." I hung up the phone. I was thrilled!

I told George about the conversation between my Dad and I. David said, "Go to Phoenix." "The vacation would be good for you." I later got the tickets. I spent most of the winter in Phoenix. I celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday there. I was re-acquainted with a lot of long-lost relatives. I also met my half-brother and half-sister.
I helped my half-sister with some of her personal problems. Later my Grandmother, in Des Moines, IA, related the thanks from my Grandparents in Phoenix, AZ. (For my help.)
My Step-mother told me an interesting story about my Father. My Father was a truck driver for a major grocery store chain. He had once robbed a convenience store, by gunpoint. He was placed on probation. My Father later died of Prostrate cancer. My Brother Rex Allen attended our Fathers funeral. I did not attend my Fathers funeral. This was much to the amazement of my Mother. My Mother said , "I thought that I would attend your Fathers funeral."
I had a great time in Phoenix, AZ. It was then time to return to Kansas City.

One night George's temper really got out of control. George had been drinking, and smoking pot, and taking Valium. David charged at me yelling and raving. I knocked him down, and held him on the floor, per usual. My good friend, Terri, downstairs, called the police. The police showed up, and arrested George. He spent the night in jail. George came back the next day screaming at me again. I refused to let him into the apartment. George went to work. He came home later, and he was much more civil to me.

George wanted to break up with me. He blamed everything on me. He took no responsibility for himself, or his actions. George later called a couple of associates, and rented a van, and moved out. He had earlier tried to trick me into going home, with him, for Easter. However, I overheard the telephone conversation between George and his mom. George was offering to take me home to Des Moines, IA, and then not return me to Kansas City, Missouri. I then refused to go with him for Easter in Des Moines, IA.

An update: George has since been in gay AA (Alcohol Anonymous). George is also ill with AIDS. That is the way the, Cookie Crumbled on poor George.

Well, after George and I broke up, I met another middle-aged man. His name was Jeff. Jeff was also a big-time alcoholic. Jeff played the stock market in Fifty-Thousand ($50,000.00) increments (blocks). Jeff was tall, dark, and handsome. He reminded me of Rock Hudson. Jeff and I became lovers. He said, "As long as you stay with me, there would be a $50,000.00 Certificate of Deposit, in your name, at my bank." Jeff wasnt kidding.

Later the Manger of a pizza restaurant, where I was an Assistant Manager, found the $50,000.00 C.D. Her name was Tracy. Tracy asked me, "Jamie, you are just twenty-five (2) years old." "Where did you get a $50,000.00 CD?" I said, "Oh, my family gave it to me."

Jeffs drinking was really getting to me. He also had a horrible temper. He was demanding to use me as a, "Bottom boy." I had explained my prostrate problems to Jeff. And that was why I couldnt be a bottom boy. However, Jeff didnt understand, nor did he care to understand my situation.

Later I found out that even though Jeff had millions of dollars, Jeff was illiterate. Imagine, a man who founded his own company, got married and divorced, and still couldnt read.

Terri, my best friend, and downstairs neighbor, had, Predicted, all of these things happening. My break up with George. My finding a truly, "Rich" man. Jeff also believed Terri. Jeff said to me once, "Please be kind to me in your future book." "Even if you give me a chapter in your book." I told, Jeff, "You're crazier than Teri. "There will never be a book written about my life," I said.

The up-date on Jeff. He was ousted, as local President, from the Kansas City Trucking Teamsters Union. The National President, in New York City, had Jeff thrown out for Jeff's allegedly having ties to the MAFIA. I don't have any further comments to make on that incident!

Jeff has had a major stroke. Jeff has had heart attacks, and heart surgery. Jeff may be living outside of Kansas City. I havent heard from, nor seen Jeff in at least fifteen (15) years.

At this point in my life I had decided to return to Des Moines, IA. Boy was that ever a drastic move! My Family thought at that time, I was a big-time gangster, from Kansas City. Just because of my relationship with Jack. And, the fact that I had managed a pizza restaurant. However, I asked to stay with my Grandmother. She reluctantly agreed to allow me to live with her.

My Grandfather had been dead for a few years. (My Grandmother excused me from attending Grandpas funeral.) Grandma was really putting on an, Act. She wouldnt admit that she was a little lonely. Or, that I was really easy to live with.

She later said, "Well, I tried to find someone to live with." "There was a young man who stayed in my finished basement." "I found beer in his little refrigerator." "He played loud music." "I really preferred you living with me, because you don't do those types of things," Grandma said.

I found a job a nearby grocery store. It was just up the street. I was a cashier. I needed to find some new friends in Des Moines, IA. I had my friends through MENSA. They were still my closest friends. I decided to answer an ad, in a gay news flyer. The ad said that he was about my age, had dark hair, and eyes, and that he was also looking for new friends. We set up a meeting. It was at a shopping center in Downtown Des Moines, IA.

His name was Pat. We hit it off right away. Pat was also from the South Side, of Des Moines, IA. Pat had also graduated I my class. Pat, as it turned out was a manager at a South Side burger restaurant. My Sister Julie had worked at the same restaurant, during her college summer vacations.
Pat told me how my Sister Julie and her friends would climb onto the roof of the restaurant. This was late after Pat had closed, and locked the doors. Julie and her friends would pretend as though they were breaking into the restaurant. Pat would call the police. When the Police arrived, Julie and her friends would be laughing in their cars, in the restaurant parking lot!

Pat, and I went out a lot. I once took Pat to see a world-famous Russian ballet star. I heard about our, Date, the next day, from friends of my Family that had seen Pat, and I together the night before. Des Moines, Iowa is such a small gossip town!

My Parent's had filed for a divorce. It was super nasty. They of course tried to pull my Brother, and my Sisters the twins, on both sides, of their issues.

I had told my Mother over seven years ago that a very good friend saw My Father, and on some occasions, his best friend, Sam, on, Sixth Avenue. Sixth Avenue was a very well known area for female, mostly Black hookers, to work.

After informing my Mom about Dads, and Sam's, Cursing, activities, Mom was in total denial. Mom just said, "Your Dad and Sam are upstanding men in our Community." "They would never do anything like that!"

Well as it turned out, Mom borrowed money from Grandma. Dad used an Equitable of Iowa attorney. After the Divorce was final, Mom got everything. Dads lawyer was then in, Private Practice. Later Dad had a girlfriend who was tall and black. He helped her to get a job at Younkers. Mom took all of her friends up to Younkers, to see "Moms replacement."

My Grandmother sat me down one evening. She said, "James I have something to tell you." I said, "What is it?" Grandma then said, "It concerns Charlie (Hanson), your Father." I looked right at her and asked, "OK, what is it?" Then Grandma told me the story about how Charlie Hanson many years ago, was driving home drunk. Dad had just left the office downtown. He ran over, and killed a secretary!

Dad, and his best friend, Sam, denied that anything ever happened to the police. However, there was an, Eyewitness that saw Dad running over this poor woman! Some of Dads high-powered friends, pulled some "Strings", to get Dad off of Murder charges. Dads Murder charges were reduced to, Manslaughter. Dad was then placed on a very lengthy Probation period. That is why Dad did not rise up into the ranks of the Equitable of Iowa Company, as fast as he wanted to go.

After Grandma told me the story, I just said, "I really dont care." Grandma said, "Thats what I thought youd say."

What I didnt know at the time was that my Grandmother was getting very ill. She never told me that she was sick. I remember seeing her lying down, on her living room floor, and looking a horrible ash-green color. I asked her, "Whats wrong Grandma?" She of course said, "Nothing, I'm just a little tired."

Grandmother had bought a car for me. I needed it to travel to and from work. I was paying her back, on a monthly basis. I had found a better paying job. I informed Grandmother, as to my job change. She became enraged. She said, "You have had too many job changes, in the past!" "Youre never going to get anywhere doing that,," Grandma exclaimed.

Well, I had had just about enough of living in Des Moines, Iowa. The next day, while I was at work, I was served a legal notice, by the Sheriffs office to vacate my Grandmothers house. I was mad. However, I then, and there decided to return to Kansas City.

I packed up my car with about one-half of my belongings. I called my old friend, Terri, in Kansas City. Terri needed someone to help her out with her business, and to be a friend. I took off for Kansas City, and I did not look back at Des Moines, Iowa.

I arrived in Kansas City, and I moved in with Terri. Terri had a miserable boyfriend, named Michael. Michael was tall, good-looking, well built, and macho. Michael was also a drunken looser. Terri tried to contend with Michaels drinking to no real end. I was wedged between Terri and Michael, and their constant fighting.

Terri's business was a Female out-call stripper company. Terri and her girl's had made a lot of money over the past few years. However, the novelty of the business had worn off. Terri also had a lot of personal problems. These problems didnt add to the continued success of her business.

I was always torn between my friendship with Terri, and killing Michael. Then Terri decided to enter the State mental hospital. She also sold her business to one of her younger employees. Robin, and her boyfriend, Ralph now owned Terris stripper business.

It was Terri's idea that I move in with Robin and Ralph. The idea was great, and things worked pretty well at first. Robin and Ralph lived several miles West of Kansas City. They had a simple four-bedroom house, located in a quiet residential neighborhood. Ralph had a teenaged son, from a previous marriage. Robin had a daughter, from her previous marriage. Everyone at the house seemed to get along pretty well.

After Terri left the mental hospital, Michael moved into her apartment. That came as no big surprise to me. Michael had been waiting for the right time to move in together. Michael, being forty years old, (40) had been living with his mother. He just wouldnt grow up.

Eventually, Terri threw Michael out of her apartment. Michaels drinking destroyed their relationship. That was actually a great thing for Terri. Especially, in the long run for her life.

I have lost track of Terri. I also wish that she were well. Wherever Terri may be located.

After Robin lost the Stripper Company, I managed to get a job at a local grocery store. It was in my old Plaza (Kansas City) neighborhood. I had an apartment on Wornall Road. It was just across the street from Loose Park. (I truly believe that Loose Park is the most beautiful park in Kansas City.)

Loose Park was named after Jacob Loose. I had found out from my relatives, the Pikes, that one of the Pikes had married one of the Loose families. The Loose family was also related to the Swope family. Thus, I really did discover that my relatives were in Kansas City long before anyone on the other side of my Mothers family was aware of this.

While working at the grocery store, I met a new friend named Josh. Josh was many years my senior. However, that didnt matter, as we got along just fine. Josh was going through a divorce. He didnt care for his ex-wife. Josh always said that, "She was a lazy, stupid bitch." Josh also had two near-teenage kids. One girl and one boy. Josh moved in with me after a few weeks of dating.

Josh and I had a blast! We had parties, and Bar-B-Ques every weekend. There were always friends visiting us. I must say that time period in my life was one of the happiest that I have ever known. I will always thank Josh for being my friend.

While riding a motorcycle, on my way home from work, I had a terrible spill. I was less than one block from home, and I turned too quickly, and I wiped-out, in the dirt. My knees were severely bleeding. I could barely stand. Finally I stood up, and pushed the motorcycle home. I was in agony.

Josh took care of me. He cleaned up my knees, and bandaged them. I remember drinking some J & B Scotch, taking two aspirins, and passing out. Several hours later, when I woke up, I was still in pain.

I could not stand, walk, run, or even move very well. I lost my grocery store job because of this accident. Josh decided that he was going to return to his ex-lover, Dan. Josh moved out of my apartment. There I was, with no job, torn-up knees, and no lover!
An Italian businessman that I had known from the grocery store talked to me one day. I was a cashier, and checking through his groceries. He said, "I know what you started." I said, "What?" He said, "Dont play stupid with me!" "Kansas City has needed a business like yours for many years," he exclaimed. Then he went on to say, "If you ever have any problems; call me and Ill take care of them." "I know your Father." "And he is a good man," he told me.

This caused for drastic action. I had to make money fast, and do so from my home. I then took the last $50.00 that I had, and I ran an ad, Abbot Escorts, Now hiring 18-30 year old gay men. It was a cheap local publication. The type of ink and paper that makes your hands dirty while reading it. That was no problem. I hired six of my friends. I got lots of calls on my old answering machine. I was in business.

I had made a lot of money, on Halloween weekend. I could now pay my bills, and have some money left over for savings! This was quite the turn-around from the previous month of disasters.

A strange man came knocking on my backdoor one late afternoon. He didnt tell me who he was. I did answer all of his questions about my new business. He seemed, Satisfied, with my answers. He told me that, "I have heard enough." "I dont need to come back and see you," he said. He may very well have been an undercover sex crimes detective. I just must state that for over Fifteen (15) years, Abbot Escort Service, and I never got arrested.

It was time to move to a new, nearby apartment. I needed more space, and my income had increased. I found a roommate, named Kevin, with a two-bedroom apartment. The apartment was two blocks from my current address. Moving was done with my friends. We made a party out of moving!

Meanwhile, I was busy running Abbot Escort Service, and making money. One of my new employees, named Ted, was cute. Ted was 5, 8, had blonde hair, and blue eyes. Ted was slightly younger than I. Something that we could both live with. After a couple of months, Ted moved into our apartment.

Our roommate, Kevin was a mess! Kevin was a horrible jealous alcoholic, and a drug addict. Kevin was homely. He was nearly bald. Kevin wanted me to, take care of him, with the money from Abbot Escort Service. Of course I refused. This relationship, with Kevin, Ted, and I didnt last for very long. Ted, and I found another apartment. Several miles from where we lived. Ted and I left Kevin, and all of his misery behind.

The last news on Kevin was that he had moved to Florida. I dont know the rest of his life story. Nor do I care to find out about Kevins life.

Chapter 5

By now I had some fairly regular customers. One was named Fred. Fred was Italian. About 6, 2, with dark hair, and brown eyes. Fred was about twenty-seven years old. He was very attractive, and he used my escort service as a, convenience. Fred, and the escort usually went out to dinner. Then they would return to Freds apartment for cocktails, and whatever. In the morning, Fred would say to the escort, I have called a limousine. You tell the driver where you would like to be dropped off. Freds dated the escorts six or seven nights a week.

For my payment, I would meet Fred, at a restaurant, near his apartment. I would be seated, and waiting on breakfast. Two men, from both corners of the room would enter. I would wave to them as an, O.K. Then Fred would enter the room. We were always alone in the dining room. Fred would throw down a wad of $100.00 bills. I would pick them up, and say, "Thanks!" Fred would say, "James, send me some more of your boys." To which I would reply, "Sure." "Call me later tonight."

Fred also helped me to get my new and better apartment. Ted wasnt working, and I was running the business. I then told Ted, "You need to find a job." "I love you but youre not doing anything constructive with your life." Ted agreed. He found a job at a fast-food restaurant, just down the street, from our place. Then Ted would give me a little money every two weeks, to help pay for our expenses.

In a business there are always colorful, and, Favorite, Customers. I will change the names of my former Abbot Escorts Service, and my gay bath club. One such Customer was named Paul. Paul started using my gay escort service ever since its conception. Paul was a business owner. Paul would usually see guys; form me, on a nightly basis. The escorts always gave me good reports about Paul. Paul was said to have been, Very Friendly, Generous, and Light-Spirited.

I once met Paul. We were dropping two escorts off at Pauls House, in the Limousine. Paul came out to the car and introduced himself. I remember that Paul had said, "Mother, I thought that you would be much larger, and older than you look!" I said, "Well if any of these guys are not telling the truth about my size or age; I'll clear that up right now." Paul and I laughed. I got back into the car, and headed on down the freeway to our next stop.

After many years, of faithful service, Paul had written a bad check to me. I was shocked and disappointed. I kept trying to contact Paul, to pay me for the bad check that he had written. I never received any response from Paul.

Then I went through the bad check processing procedure, for Jackson County. Its a big pain to complete. I had to send a Certified letter to Paul. I had to keep his signed receipt. I then had to wait thirty (3) days. Then I got a court date all of the way out in Independence, Missouri. I went to court. I waited another two weeks for the Jackson County Certified check to arrive. What a hassle. Its no wonder that most businesses dont accept checks.

Another funny Customer was named Joe. Joe was Jewish. Joe was a, Kosher Chicken inspector. Joe would call me seven nights a week. Joe was said to be short, balding, and stocky. Most of my escorts gave me bad reports on Joe. I once met Joe at a nearby hotel. Joe wanted me to be his escort. I refused. Joe was the obnoxious Customer that all of the escorts had said that he was. Joe later moved back to New York City. That was something of a, Relief.

Over the years the escort service had some attorneys. A handful of judges, from the two (2) state, many county area. A Policeman. A long-standing dentist. And once and a while some Celebrities.

One of the Celebrities was a drummer in a major Heavy Metal Rock Band. I remember sending Michael to see this Rock Star. Michael came home, after his call, and said, "Mother, do you know whom that Customer was?" I said, "No, Michael." "You went out on the call." Michael told me, "He is a drummer in a Rock Band that are playing at the Kemper Arena." "He had a fabulous hotel suite, Michael related." I said, "As long as you had fun Michael."

The escort service had an, Exercise Queen, call once. The man called and told me, my name is George. Im in Kansas City for a couple of days. I want a fifty (50) year old man, who isnt bald, or in bad shape. I said, we only have eighteen to thirty year olds (18-30). I saw the Exercise Queen on the TV news, the next day.

We had a Customer, who came into Kansas City, only every three of four months. He was middle aged. Short. The Customer had dark hair and eyes. This Customer owned a restaurant in Overland Park, Kansas (A Suburb of Kansas City). Michael came back from seeing the Customer and explained, "This guy doesnt carry any cash." "His Black bodyguard handed me my money, Michael said."

Ted and I seemed to, Have it all. We had our health, a good income, and our relationship. However, a disaster was looming in the distance. One of my, Better, employees was sent to a hotel. He didnt call me back to confirm that he had arrived at the hotel. The employee didnt call me back to say that he was coming over to pay me my commission. I had called his pager, and his home answering machine on several occasions. He never responded to my calls.

I was dumbfounded. This employee had been a very good worker in the recent past. I thought that he would continue to be a good worker in the future.

One morning I went downstairs to get the mail. A complete stranger, an older woman, said, "Arent you James Nile?" I said, "Yes." "I got a weird letter and a gay magazine attached to my door this morning," she said. "Please come up to my apartment, and Ill show you the letter, and the magazine." "O.K.," I said.

I followed her upstairs to her apartment. She showed me a recent copy of the gay magazine that I had advertised Abbot Escort Service in. She also showed me a copy of a horrible letter, with my name, and address, and telephone number on it. The letter was very vulgar. After reading this, I told her, "Thank you." "Im sorry if this caused you any distress." She said, "No, I didnt really bother, me." "I just thought that you should read these things," she said.

I started getting calls from all over. The general apartment manager called me. She wanted to know what had happened. I told her the truth, I really dont know who would do such a nasty thing. The manager also informed me as to all of the Tenants complaints, regarding the letter, and the gay magazine.

Later that night, I got a call from a man who told me that he was a Detective. He informed me that two men had broken in my apartment building last night. The burglars were caught putting the letters, and the gay magazine on the tenants doors. Apparently, another security guard, from the hospital across the street had caught them posting the letters, and magazines. The off-duty security guard told me later that he told the guys to, "Remove all of those letters, and magazines, from all of the tenants doors." "If you remove everything on the doors, Ill forget about you breaking in to the building," the off-duty security guard said.

The burglars were my former employees. The Detective, who telephoned me, asked me, "Do you want these guys prosecuted?" I said, "No." I could care less about what they had done. However, the apartment manager, and some of the tenants, in my building, was very upset. The Building Manger gave us a thirty (30) day notice, to vacate the apartment. This was fine with Ted, and I. We never liked our building Manager. Or the neglected state that the building was, Unkempt, in.

Ted, and I went just across the street to another apartment complex. I paid a security deposit, and the first months rent. The new Building Manager, and Landlord had heard about our problems with the old building, and management. The new landlord was super cool. He was 6, 2, 200lbs. With dark hair and eyes. He was about Fifty (50) years old. The new Landlord informed us that he also had over Two-hundred (200) apartments in Las Vegas, Nevada. He had a winter home there. He also told us that he supported gay people, and could care less about the Type, of business that I owned.

I refused to pay the last months rent at our former apartment. The previous apartment attorney had me forced to appear in court. My luck had not run out. I hired an attorney on the spot, for $50.00, cash. The Judge happened to be one of my Abbot Escort Service Customers. My case number, and name were never mentioned. At the very end of the court session, after everyone had left, the Judge asked me what I wanted.

I explained the apartment case to him. He looked at me and said, "Arent you the guy who owns the escort service?" I said, "Yes?" He said, "If you can find your file, in the pile of folders over there, I would hear your case now." I searched through all of the court files, on the desk. My case was nowhere to be found. I explained this missing file to the judge. The judge said, "If you cant find your file, then the case does not exist." "Case dismissed," the judge said. I said, "Thank you, your Honor." I then went home mentally relieved.

Life and business were running very smoothly. I got a call one-day, from the Police Department. Someone asked me, "We understand that you own a small business?" I said, "Yes?" Then I was asked, "Would you be willing to make a donation, for our up coming Policemans Charity Ball?" "Yes," I said. I got their address, and mailed them a check. I never received any ticket from the Policemans Charity Ball. I was a little miffed.

The next year, the same person called, and asked the same question. I then said, "You know, I sent money to you last year, and I never received any tickets." I was told that, "You didnt receive any tickets because you only paid for one ticket." I then said, "Well, Im not sending you any money this year!" "Your little, extortion, game has ended," I exclaimed! They hung up their telephone.

I contacted a friend, who was also an employee. David owned a gay newspaper. I told him my story about the police extortion case. He suggested that I write a letter to the editor, explaining what had happened with the police. Then published my letter to the editor, in his newspaper. The Police Department was furious. However, they had forgotten to check on my location. They thought that I was located in their county, and their city. I was located in another county, and another city. My friends and I laughed for several days, after the letter to the editor was published. Of course, I never heard from the Policemans Charity Group again.

Since my business was doing so very well, I decided to expand. There was not limousine service, for Kansas City's gay community. I bought a used limousine, ran a photograph, with the Abbot Escort Service ad. I had a lot of new business. The driver was named Carl. Carl was an older man who was a real estate owner. Carl was great with my customers. Carl and I even organized a, Pub Crawl. We charged a flat rate for people to ride to several of the gay bars in Kansas City. Most of these gay bars were located running North to South, on Main street. Carl actually liked working for the gay guys. We had most of our customers business on the weekends.

Ted had some personal problems. (I.E. Drinking and Pot smoking.) We had been together for over two years. Ted decided to move into his Mom and Step-Dads house. It was really his choice. I did not tell or order him to leave.

Teds parents later told me that, "Jamie, we thought that you were being overly-dramatic, about Ted's behavior." "After living with Rick for a few months, we decided that you were right. In fact we had to tell him to leave our house," his mom said.

Ted landed on his feet a short time later. He was working at a convenience store from 11:00 p.m.-7:00 a.m. He seemed happy whenever I went in to visit him.

I was living alone. Running my businesses. And really having fun. One night we had a hot tub party. Some of my friends/escorts came over to bathe. A very good-looking young man, named Chris said something that would stick onto me, forever. Chris was 6, 2, had dark hair, sky blue eyes, and were about twenty-two (22) years old. Chris said, James, "You are just like a Mother to these boys who work for you!" "You take them shopping for clothes on the Plaza." "You take them to your hairdresser for a hair cut." "You remind me of a Mother," Chris laughed.

Well, the nickname, "Mother," was born. It stuck with me for over fifteen (15) years. Some of my older friends still call me, Mother. Of course that is why this book was entitled, Mothers Empire. (As were many of my later business ads.)

In over fifteen (15) years, I cannot give an accurate number of employees, who had worked for me. The number would have to be in the thousands. My Mother once said, "I have thirty-five (35) people working under me." I responded, "I have up to two hundred, and Fifty (250) people working for me." Mom replied, "Gee, I didnt know that your business was that big!"

There were many fine young male escorts, during the past fifteen- (15) years that come into my mind. I will change their names to protect themselves, and myself. One of who was John. John was about twenty-two (22) years old. 5, 8, 150lbs., had dark brown hair, dark brown eyes. John was of Italian, and Irish American decent.

John had a female roommate that saw an ad for Abbot Escorts. John called me up, and came over for the interview. John was very buffed. John was very well endowed. John was also, Versatile, (That means that he was both a top, and a, Bottom, whenever it came to sex.) John and I also became close friends. John once ran Abbot Escorts; while I was on vacation, in Chicago. An update on John: I see him every once and a while. John has a job in Midtown, Kansas City, Missouri.

Another Bodybuilder type of man that worked for me was named Sam. Sam was 6, 2, weighed 210lbs. Sam had blonde hair and green eyes. Sam may have been Bi-sexual. I never really figured his sexual, Preference, out. Nor did I care. Sam could bench press five hundred, and fifty pounds! (550lbs.) I sent Sam to work in San Francisco, California. He was in a lot of gay pornography.

Someone sent a videotape of Sam having sex with other men, to his Parents. Sam asked me about it. I told him that, "I dont even know who your parents might be." "Or where your parents might live." However, I did chuckle to myself at the naughty thought of someone sending a pornography tape of Sam to his parents.

And update on Sam: The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) arrested him several years ago, in San Francisco, CA. He was convicted of selling illegal drugs and guns. The last news on Sam was that he was in a Federal Penitentiary, in Wisconsin.

Sam had a friend named Doug. Doug was twenty-five (25) years old, 5, 8, and 160lbs. And Doug had brown hair and eyes. Doug was very muscular. Doug told me that; Sometimes Sam and I get together and have sex with Sam's girlfriend. Sam fucks her pussy, and I fuck her ass, Doug said. He didnt tell me any of the other, Possibilities. However, you could probably guess what they might have done as a threesome. Ditto: I havent heard from Doug in several years.

I used to employ a cute little guy named Kevin. Kevin was about 5, 7, 140lbs., with dark hair, and eyes. Kevin was nineteen (19) years old. Kevin got into legal trouble. After he got out of jail he came over to my house and told me this story. The Judge who was handling his case asked Kevin, "Whom do you work for?" John said, "Abbot Escorts." Then Judge then took Kevin out of the courtroom, posted bail, and bond for Kevin. The Judge took Kevin home with her later that afternoon. (This is the only, Clue, that I am going to disclose.) According to Kevin; the Judge made dinner for them. Kevin later went upstairs and went to bed. Then Kevin came over to my house early that morning to relate his story to me.

Frank was another male escort who worked for me. Frank was about 5, 8, with dark hair, and brown eyes. Frank was twenty-two (22). Frank got into trouble with the law. Frank had thirty-two (32) unpaid traffic tickets. Frank had written over Eighteen-Thousand (18,000.00) dollars in bad checks. Frank had stolen three (3) cars.

Frank went before the judge. (This time it was a different Judge.) The Prosecuting Attorney asked, "Where does Frank work?" The Judge said, "Abbot Escorts." What a shock that was to the Prosecuting attorney! I later asked Frank, "Was the Judge, Easy on you?" Frank replied, "Yeah. I only got three (3) years in prison," Frank said. Ditto for Franks whereabouts.

Another gay newspaper was being started. This gay man was Italian. He was short, and morbidly obese. He was the doorman, at a local gay bar. He asked me about my business. He then said, "Im starting a new gay newspaper, in Kansas City." "I need advertisers. "Ill give you half-off, whatever you are now paying for advertising." Of course I agreed. As it turned out, the other newspaper, and its owners had too many financial and personal problems. The other gay newspaper soon folded. The new owner of this new gay newspaper, and I became close friends. This working relationship lasted for several years.

One hot afternoon, while I was at the Liberty Memorial Mall (The gay park) I decided to call home, and pick up my messages. I had a message from my mom. My Mom said, "Jamie your Grandmother has just died." "Call me as soon as you get this message," Mom said. Then my Mom said, "Dont stay at the motel, in West-Des Moines, Iowa." "Come and stay with me, at my house, for support," she said. I was in frozen in fear.

Just the night before, at one of my parties, I had told several of my friends, "I smell that sickly Sweet smell of death!" "Whenever I smell this choking odor, someone close to me has died," I said. My friends were stunned to hear me say this. (Later I found out that my Grandmother had died around 1:30 a.m. just about the time that I was making my death statement.)

I booked a half-fare, Funeral Flight, to Des Moines, IA. Grandmothers funeral was a disaster. My aunt Shirley grabbed onto my Grandmother, while she was lying in her casket, and wouldnt let go of her. Her husband, Dwayne, finally pulled Shirley off of my Grandmother.

Shirley came over to me. She put her arm on my arm, and she said, "Oh, Jamie you should feel your Grandmothers skin." "Its so cold," my Aunt Shirley said. I wanted to just die on the spot. What a mess!

I spent three (3) lousy days in Des Moines, IA. The funeral director asked me, "Jamie do you need a ride back to Kansas City?" I said, "Why do you ask?" Then he replied; "I have to pick up a body in Kansas City." "I could give you a ride if you didnt mind riding in a Hearse." I said, "No thanks." I took the flight home and got back to business.

Several weeks had passed. I called my Mom to ask about my Inheritance. Mom just said, "Oh, there isnt any Inheritance for you or any of the other Grandkids." I then became suspicious of my Mother.

I sent a letter to an Attorney in Des Moines, IA. The attorney specialized in Wills, Testaments, and Probate Law. In the letter I had asked him, how much money would you charge me, for an investigation? The attorney wrote back to me with a figure. I then sent the same lawyer a check. I had to wait a few weeks, for the conclusion of the attorneys investigation.

The lawyers sent me his conclusion, in writing. He stated that, everything that your Mother had done, concerning the death of your Grandmother, and your Inheritance, was perfectly legal. However, you may not consider her action(s) in this case to be, Ethical, he stated. I was livid. According to my Grandmothers will, all of the Grandchildren were to receive a, specific, amount of monies. All of us had been cheated.

I sent a letter to the Des Moines, IA Police. Later, my Mother was arrested. My Dad felt, Sorry, for her, and he bailed Mom out after she had spent three (3) days, in jail! This is the reason, and ,"rationale", that to this day; I do not actively, correspond with my Mother. I usually write to my sister Julie.

After most of this scandal had died down, I had decided to expand business once again. This time, one of my employees, Scotty, had a good suggestion for a new business twist. Scotty was short, very muscular, and good-looking. Scotty found another gay newspaper, from Los Angeles. The advertisement, in the gay newspaper, had an ad for a, Nude Male Cleaning Service. Well, I could certainly incorporate this, Aspect, into my gay male escort service.

I ran an additional ad. It was entitled, Abbot Escort Nude Male Cleaning Service. I got blasted with calls from new, and current customers. I bought a fax machine. The fax machines were new on the business market. Almost everyone, in business, had to have a fax machine. I faxed a copy of the ad to the news media.

Then next thing that I knew, I was on three local TV stations. Three local radio stations. And my sister, Julie called and told me, Dad and I were watching CNN, on cable TV. There was a news item about a gay man in Kansas City, who owned a nude male cleaning service. We knew that it had to be you!

Later that week, a Japanese cable company president, with an office in Atlanta, Georgia, came to visit me. Our little Abbot Escort Nude Male Cleaning Service had hit the World news media!

We had only one problem. I didnt have a license for the cleaning business. I went to city hall, and asked for a license. I was told; we dont even know how to license such a business! I couldnt even get a license.

At about this time, my apartment lease was about to expire. I decided that it was once time again to expand my business concerns. I went out shopping for a house. I had money. I had great credit. I finally found a large home in Kansas Citys Union Hill area. The homes there were large, old, and restored. The neighborhood was quiet. I had even toyed with the idea of opening an, Abbot Bed & Breakfast Inn. (I decided against opening a Bed & Breakfast. I did some research on the subject. I found out that B & Bs only have about a 5-6% return, on the original investment.)

Instead I decided to rent rooms to people. The people were mostly friends that I had met over the years. Only once and a while did I have to run an ad for, Roommates wanted.

Life was once again stable and happy. I had my friends, business concerns, and a good income. I didnt go out very often. That was because I was so busy. However, my income compensated for my lack of socializing outside my home, and businesses. I always had people around me. I dont ever remember being alone.

A young man, named William, came to work for me. William was of Irish-American- Indian decent. He was about Nineteen (19) years old, 5, 9, 140lbs wet, had brown eyes, and brown hair. William was a wild child. His best friend, Mark, introduced me to William. Both Mark, and William were from New Orleans, LA. They were staying with their friend, Walter. They lived just a few blocks from my house.

William and I became close friends. William went out on a call on night, with Cliffy. Cliffy drove the escorts who didnt own, or have access to a vehicle. I tagged along on the call, in Cliffs car. After seeing the customer, William said, James, Mother, I love you! Then William gave me a great big kiss. I replied, why? William said, because you send me out to see all of these customers, and I make all of this money! Of course I loved that. Cliffy also became a good friend. Cliffy later stayed with me for several months.

An update of Cliffy. Cliffy has since returned to Denver, Colorado. Cliffy, and I email each other notes about what we have been doing. I think that Cliffy is happy with his life; in Denver, CO.

it had been some time since I had been on a vacation. William suggested that we take a trip to New Orleans. I bought some; two can fly for the price of one, tickets. Mark knew about an inexpensive, clean, and safe hotel. Off William and I went to New Orleans.

Upon arrival at the New Orleans airport, some strangers greeted William and I. They were middle-aged men. They were dressed in nice silk suits. I of course was covered from head to toe in silk. They said, arent you James Nile, from Kansas City? I replied, yes? Our friend Mark called to say that you were coming down to visit, they said. Well keep an eye on you, while youre here, in New Orleans. Joey sends his regards to you guys, they said.

William explained that they probably worked for Joey. Mark had also worked for Joey, in the recent past. Mark had told me many funny stories about his adventures, while working for Joey.

William and I jumped into a cab and headed off to our hotel. The hotel was about six (6) miles from the airport. William instructed the cab driver on how to get to the hotel. Since the cab driver did not follow Williams instructions, and William said, we drove around, and around. James, "Dont give that cab driver any tip." "He doesnt deserve it," William said. I agreed with William. The cab driver had just, Earned, his tip, through deceit.

Chapter 6

William and I had a blast in New Orleans for over a week. We went sightseeing; bar hopping, shopping, and even met some of Williams old friends. We were sad to leave New Orleans. However I had business to attend to back in Kansas City.

We arrived home. Mark had been running business. Mark did an excellent job of taking care of everything. I paid Mark, and he and William returned to Walters apartment. William and I continued to be friends, and date. Even though there was a slight age difference between us; we didnt care about it. Nor did we care what other people thought or did. That was the, Beauty, of our relationship. Ours was a totally open-ended, and non-compromising friendship. Our friendship lasted for over four to five years.

I once sent a photograph, of William, and I, to my Mom. I had just bought a new Cadillac. William and I took a vacation, and we stopped in Des Moines, IA, at my Mothers house. It was Easter Sunday. And William and I had ice cream with Mom.

Mom asked, dont you think that William is awfully young? I replied, Mom, thirty-two (32) goes into nineteen many more times than the opposite. She thought for a moment, and then she replied, No, I dont mean sex, she said. Dont you think that you are, rocking the Cradle, just a little bit? I just ignored her statement.

An up-date on William. William had a girlfriend. His girlfriend became pregnant. William and his girlfriend, now have a baby boy! Even though I have never seen Williams son, I would like to, catch up, socially, with William one day.

In my neighborhood, there was an old, large, vacant house. Tony, a friend of mine, had told me, James that used to be a massage parlor. Its really beautiful inside, Tony said. You should check it out for a new business, exclaimed Tony.

I called city hall and asked for the taxpayers address and telephone number. That information was given to me. I called the telephone number, and left a message on the answering machine, to return my call. I waited a couple of days, and had no response. I called the machine again several more times. I had just given up, when I received a return call, from the voice on the answering machine.

The man on the telephone was rude to me. He said, "I dont always return all of my calls." "Sometimes, I might be on vacation." "I might even be in Europe." "What do you want," he said? I said," Im interested in the address that you have paid property taxes on." "I would like to see the house," I said. He said, "O.K." "When can you meet me there?" I said, "How about tomorrow at 2:00 p.m.?" He said," O.K." And he hung up the telephone.

The next day, I met the owner of the buildings. He was a short, older man, wore a horrible looking toupee. He gave me a tour, of the buildings, with a flashlight. The house was fantastic inside. There was a large greeting room by the front door. There were four rooms on the first floor. And there was a very modern, and large kitchen.

Going upstairs, there were four more rooms. These rooms had been remodeled. They had a Jacuzzi. There was a built-in, carpeted, lounging area, speakers in the wall for music, and the walls were covered with mirrors. The former inhabitants had obviously left in a hurry. There were still washcloths, towels, and even hand soap left behind, in the rooms.

The owner explained that the former massage parlor operators were about to get into trouble with the police, he said. He then said, one of the owners was threatened, by the State of Missouri, to loose his license, if the business was not shut down. Of course the owners complied with the Police, and the State officials, the current landlord replied.

The third floor was completely wide open. It had been used as a place for the massage women to live, and rest while they were working there. It was spacious, had plush carpeting, and it had its own bathroom.

We then proceeded downstairs, and out the front door. There was a long building in back of the main house. The first level was a huge garage. This garage could probably store twelve (12) cars. It also had two furnaces to heat the building, in the winter.

Upstairs was a vast open room. The room had been used for parties, the tour guide said. Then he said, "The Marks family used to own this house." "They were notorious gypsies," he exclaimed. "They had a safe built into the floor of the room." "The gypsies would have lavish parties, and everyone would bring money to give to their gypsy King." "Later the gypsy Kings wife killed him, and her lover." "The gypsy woman fled to California," he said. "Maybe the gypsy queen, who killed these men, is in prison, in California, or she is dead, he told me?"

This was certainly startling. I had never been to such a historically notorious place, in all of my life! I had remembered reading about the Marks family in the newspaper. The news about them ran in the Kansas City Star Newspaper, for several days.

The owner of the building asked me about buying the properties. I told him; "Well I think that it might be a good thing to first rent the buildings from you." "I am just starting this new business, and I dont know how well it will do financially," I exclaimed. The owner agreed. He started out at very high price. I finally, Split, the rent price, and then we agreed on the lease price. The rent price was cheap. It was about the same price as renting a residential home, in that neighborhood. Not the same as renting home, with a business. I could make more money, with a lower overhead, Operating, costs.

We signed the rental agreement. I wrote a check for all of the security deposit, and rent. He sold me the washer, and the dryer. He gave me some keys; we then left,
Now, the big problem was that the facility had been closed for over four (4) years. The plastic water pipes (PVC) had been broken, in several places, around the house. One of the water heaters didnt work. Some of the walls, on the second floor, of the house, needed repair. I really didnt know how long, or how much work this entire repair, to the house would take. Also, I didnt know anything about remodeling.

As my luck would have it, I was cleaning up the large parking lot one day. A short clean-cut middle-aged man came along, and asked me, Hey, do you need any help? I said, yes. He introduced himself as Tim. We started talking about the house, and the very needed repairs. I gave Tim a tour of the facility. He pointed out things that needed repair that I didnt even know about. Tim really impressed me with his suggestions, as to how to repair the house.

Tim needed two things from me. 1. A place to live. Tim had been living with his sister, and he was really tired of that situation. 2. Tim also needed some money to work. Thus, I hired Tim to live on the premises, and to work on the house. That rally set my mind at ease. Especially, since I didnt know anything about home repair.

It took $2,500.00, and working sixteen hour days (16) hour days, for over three weeks, to get the house to a, Usable, fashion. Tim and I were happy and exhausted when the work, on the house, was finally completed. I ran a front-cover, full-page ad, in the local gay newspaper. Business exploded! Mothers House, the gay bath club of Kansas City, had taken off.

Tim asked me, "James, you, and I have worked very hard on this house." "How would you like to take a vacation?" I had thought about visiting my friend Tom, who had worked for me, and moved to San Diego, California. (We had nicknamed Tom, the "Stepmother.") I called Tom, and he was glad to have me come, and visit. I got airline tickets, packed my bags, and off to San Diego, CA I flew!

This was the first time that I had flown to California. I met a very sweet lady, who sat next to me, on the plane. She was a nun. Her name was Sister Elizabeth. She was visiting her sister in Kansas City, and then returning to San Diego. I remember telling her, "I will see you again." To which she replied, "You probably will." ('Ill explain that premonition later.)

I landed safely, in San Diego. The weather was fantastic. It was cool and balmy. Tom picked me up at the airport. He had his white, Kentucky Derby, Cadillac. It was a very cool car. (Tom had bought the car, from some friends, of his, near Kansas City).

Tom gave me a guided tour of San Diego. We went to gay bars, bath clubs, Sea World, and Balboa Park. We then took off Los Angeles.

The drive from San Diego, to Los Angeles is very beautiful. The ocean, the beach, and the homes built into the hills, are wonderful to see. I could barely take it all in. We arrived in Los Angeles. Checked into a bath club. And had some fun!

Tom would usually say, "James I dont understand it?" I would say, "What dont you understand?" Tom would reply, "You are older than I am." "You are overweight, and balding on top of your head." "You always seem to get the cutest young guys!" I told Tom, "Well, maybe these young guys are looking for someone my age, and size!" He would so jealous of me.

Tom and I toured Los Angeles. Santa Monica Boulevard was too much fun. We ate at a very fashionable outside caf. I overheard someone say, "Isnt that James Nile, the gay gangster from Kansas City, sitting over there?" Tom heard the comment and said, "Yeah, and who are you?" I laughed so hard that I thought that I would pee my pants!

After a few days of fun in LA, it was time for us to return to San Diego. The drive back was just as enjoyable, as the drive to LA. Tom had to get back to work, and I had to go back home. It was one of the most enjoyable vacations that I have ever taken.

Upon arriving home, Tim, and my business concerns, was fine. Everything seemed in order. What I didnt know about was Tim, and his partying. He had either developed some bad party habits, or he just displayed those bad behaviors, later, to me. Unfortunately, I had to approach Tim about his partying. And then fire him. This was a most unfortunate re-occurrence, in the businesses that I owned, and the people that worked for me.

Men would start out being honest, and hard working. After a few weeks, the guys would become dishonest, and lazy. It happened with so man employees, that I really lost track of their numbers. Fortunately, I could always find new workers, to replace the defective workers, in a very short amount of time. Sometimes, I would fire someone on Saturday, and hire someone new on Monday.

With all of my business concerns, including Abbot Escort Service, Mothers House, the Limousine Service, the Boarding house, I had another business idea to try. The back section, of the house, with the huge vacant room, would become an, After Bar Party Place. I bought kegs of beer, and lots of ice. We charged $5.00 admission. The parties usually started around 1:30 a.m. The parties would usually last until 5:00 a.m. The new business was called the, Den. And it took off really fast one summer.

I had the, Luxury, of owning several business monopolies. No one else in Kansas City owned or operated the same businesses, as I did. Therefore, I could set my own business practices, and prices. Since I didnt have any competition, these business concerns, of mine, drew some attention, to my friend, who owned a gay newspaper.

My friend approached me with a, Deal. He said, I want to be your, Silent, Partner. I said, That would ruin our friendship. He tried to be persistent. I refused to give in to his, offers.

Meanwhile, Someone had started another gay escort service. This new escort service was also advertising in the same gay newspaper that I advertised in. The same owner, of this gay newspaper, was also the, Friend, of mine. Or so I thought that he was, my friend.

When the newspaper would arrive at my business establishment, I would remove the other (competitors) escort ad. Later, someone told my friend, about my removing these other ads. My friend called me up and said, "Mother, if you keep on ripping out the other escort services ads, Im going to take your ads out of my newspaper." To which I replied, "Go right ahead, and remove my ads, from your newspaper." "Im going on vacation, to Chicago, I said."

I did take a vacation to Chicago. About 10:00 p.m., from Chicago, I called the owner, of the gay newspaper, in Kansas City, and said, "Im in Chicago. I have taken out three (3) ads in the other gay/alternative newspapers." I then laughed into the telephone, and hung up.

I had a fabulous vacation. When I returned home, I found out, through a mutual friend, that my, Friend, the owner of the gay newspaper, was just livid with me. This pleased me to no end. I then realized, that the owner of this gay newspaper had never been my friend. The owner just wanted my money, and business concerns. That is really all of the time, and space that I will allow, for that loser!

Chapter 7

During the past few years, I had seen some of my gay escort competitors come and go. Sometimes, the completion would last anywhere from six weeks, to six months. I had some, inside, contacts, in the legal community that would, Assist, me in getting rid of the competitors.

My former friend, who owned the gay newspaper, decided to launch a, War, against my business concerns, and myself. He got together with one of my competitors, and they created some pretty awful libelous misinformation, in his gay newspaper.

I refused to take all of this, Lying, down. I had flyers printed about the competitors business concerns. This included a description of their gay escort business, their address, and their telephone number. Then we distributed the flyers all around their businesses neighborhood. It was a smashing success! The competitor had to move to their home, and give up their office space.

This wasnt enough. They decided to try the same, Tactic, with my businesses. They put flyers out in my neighborhood. However, one of my employees, Michael, saw the flyers, and removed them, before any of the neighbors read them. Pity for my competitors, an their lame business practices!

Next, I decided to sue my competitor. I went to small claims court, and filed a complaint. I charged them with harassment, liable, slander, and defamation of character. I also stated that I had lost an, Estimated, $5000.00, in business. This was due to their terrorizing my businesses, and myself. Through the local gay newspaper, and flyers posted in my neighborhood.

I had a court date. I went in early to visit the judge. He was a middle-aged man, clean-cut, and looked familiar. I introduced myself. The judge then asked, "Where are you from?" I said, "I was born and raised, in Des Moines, IA." He then said, "Do you have any photographs of your family?" I said, "Sure." "Take a look at these pictures of my Mom, and my sisters, the twins." He then said, "Oh, I see." Then he said, 'Ill see you later this morning, in my courtroom." I said, "Thanks, see you later." I then stepped outside his office. I stood around the corner. I waited. And I listened.

Just as I was about ready to leave, I heard the judge say, to his secretary, "Thats Jamie Hanson-Nile, from Des Moines." "He looks just like his Mother." "His Mother is really pretty." "Shes kind of the, Slut, of Des Moines." I tried not to laugh too noisily. Then I quickly and quietly left his outside office area.

We had the trial. My competitors lied about everything. They denied any wrong doings. They filed a, Counter suit, against me, for the same reasons that I was suing them! How outrageous. How stupid of them!

The judge told us, "Im going to think about the case presented her today." "I will mail you my decisions, about this case, within two weeks." "You are all free to leave." I went back home. My competitors also left the courtroom.

Within two weeks, a letter arrived from the judge. The judge really just, "neutralized," everything between the competitors and I. I was not pleased. However, there was not anything, legally speaking, that I could do about this situation.

Kansas City had a chapter of the nation-wide ACT-UP group (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power). However, after several years, of great hard work, the group president was ready to step down, from his position. There was an ACT-UP meeting, at a local church. I was in attendance. I told the group that, I would take over ACT-UP, KC. I have a large party dance floor, in back of the bath club. We can hold fund raising parties there. ACT-UP, KC, can meet inside the large kitchen area of the bath club. Everyone in attendance agreed. They voted for me to take over ACT-UP, KC.

We then had parties, with kegs of beer, and charged $5.00, for admission. The parties made money on several occasions. I sent checks, from the proceeds of the party, to various AIDS charities. Our committee met at the bath club once a month to give ideas, questions, and plan for up-coming fund-raising parties.

I had also the privilege of being nominated, and voted into the, Statewide, membership, for the Missouri HIV/AIDS Planning, and Prevention Council. We met every other month in Jefferson City, MO. The other health care people converged, at these meetings, and we also received HIV/AIDS updated information, from the CDC (Center for Disease Control) in Atlanta, Georgia. I had a busy schedule.

At this point, I had the following businesses, and responsibilities: Abbot Escort Service, Limousine Service, Mothers Bath House, The Den, The Boarding House, President of ACT-UP, KC, and State-Wide Member of the MO HIV/AIDS Planning and Prevention Council. What a list of things to keep me busy! I really didnt mind all of these responsibilities. All of my business concerns were, AAA, rated by the Wall Street Firm of Dunn & Bradstreet. (I even ad advertised my business ratings in several gay newspapers.)
It was just that sometimes I needed to get away, and take a vacation.

I did take vacations. I went to Europe. Walter, Williams roommate, and I had a blast! We especially enjoyed Amsterdam. It was such a clean and intellectually stimulating city. With a lot of History, Charm, and Class. The people in Amsterdam were extremely liberal in their thinking, and their opinions.

When Walter, and I returned from Europe, there were problems. My Business Manger, Chris had lied and said, we werent very busy, while you were gone. There is just a little money in the safe. Well, a little money was just $60.00. Chris had taken the money, from my businesses, and found an apartment. And Chris moved out oft my bath club.

Well, I decided to take care of Chris the, Legal, way. I had him set up with the police. Chris was a drug dealer. (And small-time drug dealer at that.) Chris got into trouble with the Kansas City Police Department, at a later date. Pity for him!

While Walter, and I were on our way home to Kansas City, from Europe, William decided to really get stupid. William took all of the electronics, in their apartment, and sold them for crack cocaine. William ended-up overdosing on that crack cocaine. William was in a coma, at a hospital, when we arrived home. However, William came out of his coma quickly. William was soon taken home with Walter. I still really loved William. However, I could not tolerate his drug-induced behavior. Nor could William, and I ever live together. This was the end of my relationship with William.

During the time that I operated my boarding house, I had a lot of colorful characters staying with me. One of them was named, Ken. Ken was twenty-seven (27) years old. Ken was about 5, 10, Ken weighed about 170lbs. Ken had long brown hair, and brown eyes. Ken rented the basement from me. He and his friend, Tom, had a little, Band; the band would rehearse in the basement until Midnight, on the weeknights. And up until 2:00 a.m., on the weekends. Occasionally, I would have to remind them of their, practice, time. Telling them to quit playing, and go to sleep!

Ken would get terribly drunk, and pass out. Kens girlfriend would put make-up on Kens face. Lipstick, eye shadow, etc. Ken would get up later that day, go upstairs to the Main bathroom mirror, and scream! I would hear Ken yelling all over the house. Later Kens girlfriend told me what she had done. I laughed for about twenty minutes. And of course I teased Ken about it for quite some time.

Josh was another long-time friend of mine. Josh was a hairdresser. Josh would cut my hair, and I would let him into the bath club, most of the time, free of charge. One night Ken came over to the bath club. Ken was drunk, as usual. Joe, and I invited Ken upstairs, to jump into the hot tub, with us. Well, you can guess what happened to Ken Josh took care of Kens feet. Josh has a foot fetish! And I took care of Kens cock! Ken said, "Mother, you can fuck me, if you use a rubber." I said, "O.K." Josh and I took Ken over to a private room.

Poor Ken had passed out cold. Josh said, "Mother, put on a rubber." I put on a rubber. Josh said, "Ill hold up Kens legs so that you can fuck him." I started laughing at this entire silly situation. The next thing I noticed that I had lost my erection. Too much laughing, and I couldnt concentrate on fucking ken.

The next afternoon I saw ken outside. Ken asked me, "Mother, did you fuck me the other night?" I said, "No, Ken." "I was laughing too hard with Josh, and you." "I lost my erection, " I said. Ken replied, "Thats O.K." "I would have let you fuck me, anyway!" "As long as you use a Rubber," Ken replied.

Josh and I still are friends. He still cuts my hair. We still go out and find other partners to have sex with. I think of Josh as my little brother. Since Joe is about the age of my Sisters, the twins. Forget about any thoughts of incest.

My business concerns, and my personal life were pretty much, Stable, at this point. My businesses kept me busy. All major holidays demanded a lot of time, planning, and work. We always had lavish Halloween, New Years Eve. Memorial Day, and Labor Day parties. Some of the parties started on Thursday night, and ended on Sunday night. I managed to have a lot of fun, and made a lot of money. I always thought that, this is my, Niche, in the world. Regardless of what anyone else thought, said, or did to me. Most of my friends agreed with me, and my lifestyle.

Even though I had a high turnover rate, for my employees, I managed to find new guys to work for me. I was the largest employer, of gay men, in the Midwest. There may have been larger employers, of gay men, elsewhere in the United States, but I was unaware of them. This gave me a lot of satisfaction and power, in my businesses. These, Monopolys, that I owned were not the type of businesses that anyone could own and operate. They were very specific in their genre, functioning, and up-keep.

One time I had run out of a manager for the bath club. I went next door to Captain Dees to eat dinner. A young man, named Phillip that had worked for me as an escort was outside. I asked him, "What have you been up to Phillip?" He replied, "My dad just died." "I have no real place to go." "Im really in a jam right now." I replied, "Well, I have an offer for you." "Why dont you manage the bath club, and live there?" Phillip said, "Gee, you really are a lifesaver." Then Phillip said, "I dont care what anyone says about you Mother." "Youre all right in my book," he exclaimed.

I let Phillip into the bath club. I gave him a small advance, on his salary. Phillip seemed very pleased with his new situation. I told Phillip, Good night. Then I got into my car and went home. My other home was almost one block parallel with the bath club.

It always seemed strange to me that both my home, and my business would be so very close to each other. It certainly came in handy when I needed to go to the bath club. Most of the time I would just walk around the corner, coming and going, to the bath club. It seemed stupid to drive my car around the block.

My neighborhood also had a small convenience store, several fast-food restaurants, and a very old doughnut shop, on the corner. I really loved that old neighborhood. Later on, in this book, I will describe what happened to the old neighborhood.

For several years my life and business concerns were fine. There were always a few, kinks, to work out. Overall life was really very good. I had a lot of friends, money to spend, and a lot of activities to keep me occupied. I had the, American Dream, if you will pardon the cliche.

There was a new, Midtown Redevelopment Project, in our neighborhood. The City was buying up homes, and businesses. A huge section, of Midtown, would be demolished, and new stores would be built. My bath club, and the dance club, was directly in the path of the redevelopment project.

The City was cheating the Midtown residents, and business owners out of there, Fair Market, Value, for their real estate. This was upsetting a lot of people in or neighborhood. For example, if someones home were appraised at $65,000.00, the City would only pay $40,000.00 I had a Federal restraining order placed on the bath club, and dance club properties. Then the City could not come in, declare, "Imminent Domain," and cheat me out of the true value of the properties.

This of course infuriated the City, and its officials to no end. How could same gay man stop such a big city project? Im sure that I was the talk of City hall. Pity. I had paid City taxes for many years. Along with other taxes. I was not about to give up anything without a fight. That is my nature.

The City had already cheated most of my neighbors, out of the fair market real estate values. Our properties were the last to be considered for purchase, and relocation. The bookstore on the corner had bought a new building, and moved down the street. A female stripper bar had done the same thing. How, and why was this Mothers House, the gay bath club, of Kansas City holding on?

Then I was approached by the Citys Relocation, Expert, He was clearly out to cheat me in any way that he could. He wanted old utilities receipts. Something that no one in his or her right minds ever keeps. I contacted my attorney. He suggested that I inform the City that I had an occupancy license that was several years old, and that I renewed the license, every year. I did these things. The idiot from the City was still insistent that I would not be given any City Monies for, Relocation Expenses.

Both the bookstore, and the stripper club had been given Relocation Monies, by the City. This was totally unfair. I decided to take action, against the City. I contacted the local news media. I had TV, Radio, and Newspaper coverage. It was outrageous! The TV station filmed me giving a tour of the gay bath club. They included a segment where I opened the door and said; "Now here is the orgy room." It was fabulous. We were the, Talk of the Town! I had not had so much fun since the Abbot Escort Nude Male Cleaning Service publicity. (8/1994)

I had run out of bath club managers. I was up at the Liberty Memorial Park. (The park where gay people used to congregate.) There was a young couple there. They were both peroxide blondes, and HOT! I asked them, "Whats up?" They replied, "Were about to get kicked out of where we are staying." I asked, "Where is that?" They said, "The YMCA, in Kansas City, Kansas." I said, "I could give you a place to live, and a job." They said, "Really?" I said, "Sure, I own a bath club not too far from here." "I'll pay you to live and work there." They said, "Great!" I said, "Follow me, in my car." "O.K.," they said. All of us got into our cars, and headed for the bath club.

I let them into the bath club, and I showed them around. They loved it! They had never seen a bath club. (Especially, not a bath club as fancy as mine.) I described how the business worked. As well as what we charged. They asked me for an, Advance, in pay. They needed to get something to eat. I gave them some money. Told them my home telephone number. Then I told them, Good night. I went around the corner to my other home.

Chapter 8

My life, and businesses were back to, Normal. At least for the time being. The two young lovers took care of business, and I had the freedom to work on other projects. I was busy with the State of Missouris HIV/AIDS Planning, and Prevention Council. We had, as I mentioned earlier, Bi-monthly meetings in Jefferson City, MO. I really enjoyed the people, and the trip to Jefferson City. Then I would usually drive onto St. Louis, MO. Spend the night there. And then either take off for Chicago, or return to Kansas City.

During the midst of my stability, in business, and my personal life; I didnt know that the two young guys were plotting against my businesses, and me. I had forgotten that these two guys had told me a story, about a recent situation, with a former landlord, of theirs. The two guys had been living South of Kansas City. They were renting a house from a middle-aged woman. They had decided to get, Even, with her, for some stupid reason. The boys told me how they had blown-up, the landladys house.

The guys placed candles all around her rental house. Then they uncoupled the gas pipe, on the water heater, in the basement. Of course when the gas level rose to the candle flames-Kaboom! The house was blown off of its foundation. They had left that rural community. To, Escape, to Kansas City.

On 12/15/1995, ( my twin sisters birthday) a late Sunday night, when the bath club was usually closed, I left the club around 10:30 p.m. I went directly home. I told all of my roommates Goodnight. I went upstairs, and I went to sleep. I had taken a Benedryl before going to sleep. My roommates later told me that about 1:30 a.m., there was a horrible fire at the bath club. My roommates could not wake me up. I was, dead to the world.

The next day I was in court. The matter concerned my former friend, who owned the gay newspaper. He claimed that I had been harassing him on the telephone. Well, that was not entirely true. One of my roommates, Michael, had been calling him, and harassing him. Anyway, I was found, Guilty, of a City law. It was only a misdemeanor. I paid a small fine. Was placed on, Non-Report, Probation, for one year. As I was going downstairs, to pay my court costs, I ran into Phillip. (You remember that Phillip used to work for me?) My attorney told me later, "Your friend, Phillip is going to prison." I said, "Thats too bad." "He was a really sweet kid." "I think that Phillip just fell apart after his Mom and Dad died," I admonished.

Then I got into my car, and drove home. I was about to turn at Main and E. Linwood Blvd., and I looked over at the bath club. Oh, my GOD! There were huge holes in the roof, and the walls of the house. There had been a terrible fire. I pulled my car into the convenience store across the street, from the bath club. I called 911. I asked the operator what had happened. She said, there was a terrible fire there late last night. I asked her, was anyone hurt? She said, No, it just looked like an electrical fire that started in the basement.

I drove to my house. I ran inside and called the insurance company. The insurance companys office was two blocks from my house. I got back into my car, and drove to their office. They were very nice. They told me to check into the Ramada Stadium Inn. I agreed, and I drove to the hotel, and I check in. Actually, the hotel was a great idea. I was very upset. I thought that being away from Midtown, and the house fire, would be peaceful to my mind. And it was a relief to be twenty (20) miles away from this disaster.

A little, Gem, came along. A twenty-tree (23) year old medical student, named Brad had called my house, in Midtown. Brad, and I had. Dated, in the past. Brad came to the bath club one night. He paid his admission. Brad then came downstairs, and asked me for his money back. I of course gave him his money back. After that Brad asked me to, teach him about gay sex. I want to have sex with an older man, so that he can teach me what to do, Brad said. Brad was 5, 10, had brown hair, and hazel eyes. Brad was buffed (He had HOT pecs!)

Brad had found out about the bath club fire. Brad called my other house. My roommates informed Brad that I was in Independence, staying at a motel. Brad came over to visit me at the hotel. Of course we had HOT & STEAMY sex! The motel shower will never be the same. Brad was really a stress reliever as well as a good friend. Isnt that what friends are for?

The two guys, who ran the bath club, were nowhere to be found. I asked several of my friends to help me find them. I found out later that the two guys had gone to a friends house. They were about One-hundred (100) miles North of Kansas City. They were staying with a friend who happened to be a cop! How stupid of them!!! Later they were dumb enough to return to Kansas City. They were arrested. They told the cops a fantastic story about what had happened that night, at the bath club. They were released from jail. I was totally unaware of all of this until about three months later.

A police arson detective, that used to work in theft, had been calling me on the telephone. He wanted to speak to me about the fire, at the bath club. I had been talking with my attorney. My lawyer was trying to set up an, Appointment, with this detective. This would be an occasion where the detective, my attorney, and I could get together a talk. This appointment never happened.

Late on night I received calls from the same detective. He kept saying, "I know that you are at home, pick up the phone, and talk to me." I refused to pick up the telephone. Shortly thereafter there were two policemen, at my front door. They kept banging, and banging on my door. I ran upstairs and told Walter, "Please answer the door." "The cops are here, and tell them that I am not home." Walter said, "O.K." Walter went to the front door, and spoke with the cops. The cops demanded to come in and search my house for me.

I was upstairs, in my bedroom. The police came up, and turned on my light. They were two HOT men! One of them was short and had dark hair. The other cop was tall and had blonde hair. They asked me, "Are you James Nile?" I said, "Yes." The then told me that, "You are under arrest." I got out of bed. They told me to, "Turn around, and put your hands behind your back." I did that. Then they handcuffed me. Then they asked me, "Where is you wallet, and keys?" I pointed, with my right foot, to my nightstand. They laughed at that! Then they asked me, "Do that foot point again." "Weve never seen anyone handcuffed point with their foot over their head before!!!" I did the foot pointing once again. We all laughed at that.

Then the police took me downstairs. They asked me, "Where are your winter coats?" I said, "In that big closet." The shorter cop then said, "Which one of these coats do you want to wear?" I replied, "The Western coat." "The coat with lambs wool, and leather trim on it." The cop got my coat out of the closet, and put it on my back. They were really nice to me.

They told me on the way out of my house, "We were told to treat you with, Kid gloves." "A lot of very powerful people in Kansas City know who you are." "We dont want any trouble with the media either," the cop said. I was then put into the back of the paddy wagon. The cops closed the door. I started laughing. Roaring is really a better term. The cops heard me laughing loudly, and they asked me, "Whats so funny?" I said, "This entire ordeal is hysterical!" The cops then said, "Youll not think that this is so funny, when we get you downtown." Then I giggled at them.

We arrived downtown. I was taken into an elevator, with the arson detective. The detective lunged towards me. He made this really crazy statement, "We used to stop this elevator on the third floor, and beat people." "Now we have surveillance cameras, and we cant do that anymore!" I looked at him, and said, "I suppose that makes you feel superior, doesnt it?" The detective didnt say anything more to me. I showed him that I wasnt afraid of him!

The cops put me into a stand-up cage. Everyone has to wait in the cage until there is more room to, Process, people. My name was called. I was being, booked, into the jail. The police officers took my wallet, and my belongings. They put them into a bag. Then I went into another cage. In a few minutes, my name was called again. I was released from the cage, and brought over to a table to be, Finger printed. That was a dirty little bit of work. Now my fingerprint's would be on file with the FBI, the State of Missouri Police Department, and the Kansas City Police Department. I was then taken and put into a cell by myself.

Most people have never been to jail. Jail is not like something that you watch on TV, or read about in a book. Jail is very boring, and the poor straight men are always scared. The straight men dont have their girlfriends, or their wives, to take care of them in jail. The inmates talk loud, and they want to stay up all night acting ignorant. Considering the average, Street, mentality, of these inmates, it is certainly not surprising how they act.

Later that night I threw a loud verbal fit. I yelled, shut the fuck up! Im sick of your big mouth, I screamed! One inmate a few cells down from me asked, who are you? I said, Im James Nile. Who are you, I asked? This man said, James Nile. I've heard of you. Youre a gangster, a big gangster in Kansas City, he said. Then he said, O.K., 'I'll go to sleep now. Im sorry for being so loud, he replied. And then we had about two hours of silence. Before going to court to see the judge.

I was handcuffed, and shackled (ankle cuffs and chains). Six of us inmates were loaded into a van. We were driven outside the Police building. Then we went around the corner, and we were driven underground, to the courthouse-parking garage. We were unloaded. As so many cattle. And then an elevator took us up to the courtroom.

All of us inmates were seated in the, Jurors, seats. After a little while, a very nice lady, with dark auburn hair entered the courtroom. We were asked to rise. And then we were told to be seated. My turn came to see the judge. I dragged this little guy up to see her. The judge said, Where were you born? I said, Des Moines, Iowa. Then the judge asked, What are your parents names? I told her, "Charles and Sharon Hanson." Then the judge asked, "What is your Mothers maiden name?" I responded. Then I said, "Oh, you are one of the judges that my parent's helped to put into office. The judge quickly covered her microphone, and replied, "Yes, but we cant talk about that here." Then the judge said, "Bond is set at $15,000.00." The bond should have been much more than that. I didnt argue with the judge. Then we inmates were all taken to the County Jail.

In the county jail; I was place into a single cell. It was located on the first floor. There were four walls, a sink, and a toilet. I received three meals a day, and the Kansas City Star Newspaper. I had a friend in a cell across form me. He was a lot of fun. We talked, and laughed, and even sang together. However, I was deeply depressed. The single cell was really getting on my nerves.

Late one night the guards took us to a holding cell. Inside the cell we could use pay telephones, with collect calls only. There was a small TV, and a pool table to play with. I called Brandon, a friend who was a disc jockey, at a very popular radio station. I asked Brandon to play the song, Burning down the House. Even though we didnt have access to a radio, I heard about the dedication, from the guards, the following day. The guards laughed at Brandons song dedication. As did I.

My friend across the way told me, Mother, if you want to get out of this basement, with all single cells, you have to file a report with the medical staff. OK, I said. I filed a complaint with the medical department. It took eighteen (18) days until I was transferred from my single cell, to the Infirmary. The infirmary had all individual cells. The inmates there were always separated from one another. Many of these inmates would act psychotic. The inmates would yell, and cuss, and pound on their walls for no apparent reason. It was often times difficult to sleep.

While I was in the infirmary, I had a very bizarre experience. I understand that when people are very depressed, that they may hallucinate. The depressed person may see and hear things that really dont exist. However, I really believe that the following, Experience, happened to me.

I woke up. There was a very intense, warm, bright light. This light was shining down over my body. I then heard a very calm mans voice say, James; it is not your time to die. I have much more work for you to do, before you leave this Earth. I am sending you on the journey, of your lifetime. Dont be afraid.

Then the voice said, "Trust in Jesus." "I want you to give your heart, and your soul to Jesus." "Do you renounce Satan?" This was getting very weird for me. Then the voice said, "Repeat what I have asked you." I said, "Yes, I give my heart, and soul to Jesus." "I renounce Satan," I said.

The white light vanished. The 11-7 Charge nurse, Maria, had been trying to open my cell door. She finally opened the door. Then the nurse asked, "What happened to you?" I told her exactly what had happened. The nurse said, "I saw the bright light on the video camera monitor, at the Nurses station." Then she got hysterical and kept saying, "Visitation, visitation, visitation." I asked her, "What is it?" She replied, "You have had a visit from the Holy Spirit." "Most people never have a visit from the Holy Spirit, in their lifetime." "You will probably never have another visit, from the Holy Spirit again," Maria said.

Well, of course this was one of the weirdest experiences of my lifetime. Later my attorney, Stan got a hold of the, Infirmary Visitation report. Stan asked me, James, what was it like to have a visitation, from the Holy Ghost? It was the strangest experience in my entire lifetime, I said.

Meanwhile back in jail; a few days later, I was taken to the, F, module. The F module was being used to house gay inmates. This new housing arrangement was much better. There were seven (7) other inmates. Everyone had their own cell. There was a, Dayroom, with a TV, and steel tables to sit on. This was lavish compared to where I had been staying.

We had a gay module manager. He was middle aged and black. Walter had told me all about our Managers personal problems, with underage boys and sex. The Manager had had several, Scrapes, with underage boys, and the law. Walter knew all of this since Walter used to work at the County Jail.

Of course I just mentioned Walter's name to our F modules Manager, and he was terribly interested in what I knew about him. I just insinuated that I understood where our Manger, of the F module was coming from. I never threatened our Manager with anything. Especially, blackmail. I did tell one of our underage inmates, be sure to tell this Manager to keep his door open, while he is interviewing you.

The youngster asked, "Why?" I replied, "Our Manager might really, like, someone as young and cute as you are."

When the youngster returned to our module F, he said, "Thanks for warning me about this guy." I said, "What happened?" The youngster said, "I told him to keep the door open, while we were in there." "He acted like a creep," the young man told me.

I spent about six (6) weeks in the F module. Finally my attorney arranged for me to be released on, House Arrest. I also had to report to a pre-trial officer during my House arrest. I wore an, Ankle Monitor. At home. I had a small device, which plugged into the telephone, and the electrical outlet. This device would call a police computer center automatically, whenever I left the house.

The telephone monitor would call the Police with false, Reports, of my activities. Whenever I would go down the basement, it would call the police. Whenever I was in bed at 1:30 a.m., the stupid monitor would call the Police. Even if I went to the back yard to mow the lawn; the monitor called the Police. This stupid monitor was more of a hassle than it was of any good.

This confused Ben, my pre-trial counselor. He was very easy going. He also knew that I had not started the bath club fire. Ben had also asked, "I dont know why you are even going to trial with this case?" Every week, I would go to see him. And every week he would say, this case is the most bizarre case that I ever handled. "Your case gets even more bizarre every week," Ben exclaimed. I had to agree with my Counselor. Ever since I was released from jail; my life had become most strange!

Chapter 9

My attorney, Stan, told me that the bath club trial was set for late June. Since I had been released from jail on 3/13/1996, Stan and I had plenty of time to prepare our case. Even though Stan had told me, James, this case is going to be an Up Hill Battle, I was prepared to fight against going to prison. I was only charged with Arson, a Class, D, and Felony. It only carried a 1-5 year sentence. I was also charged with, attempting to steal through Deceit. (The insurance company that covered the bath club.) Another Class, D, Felony. It also had a 1-5 year prison sentence.

The more that I started to think about going to trial, and the outcome of this trial; the more I decided against attending my trial. I really didnt want to expose any of my gay Abbot Escort Service Customer's, or my Mother's House, gay bath club Customer's. Thinking about all of the Doctors, Lawyers, Judges, Policemen, Politicians, and Celebrities welfare, made me nervous. My thoughts were concentrating on San Diego, CA. I had been there twice. I really enjoyed San Diego, CA. Why not relocate to San Diego, CA?

Well, I bought a ticket to San Diego, CA. The ticket cost $85.00. It was a one-way ticket. I would leave Kansas City on June 20Th, before my June Court Trial. I never outwardly told Stan, my lawyer, about my plans. One Saturday afternoon, after visiting with Stan, I was about to leave the building. Vince always walked me out of his office, and into the hallway to wait on the elevator.

Stan was taking a drink of water, from the water fountain. Stan had just mentioned my up-coming trial appearance. I looked at Stan, and said, "I have made other plans." Stan looked at me and said, "What are you planning?" I said, "I cant tell anyone." "Its better that no one knows my plans. Stan said, "Are you depressed?" I said, "No, its not that." "I'm not going to try suicide," I responded.

In the next few weeks, I ran moving sale ads, in the Kansas City Star. I even tried running, Moving Sale, ads two weeks, in a row. I ended up selling a few small things to my neighbor. I had a lot of things in my large, old four-bedroom house. Its just a good thing that Im a really not attached to, Materialistic, thing. Since I could only take a couple of suitcases, with me, to San Diego, CA.

The, Big, moving day came. I had packed two suitcases, and a small carry-on bag. I took a scissors and cut the plastic strap, on my ankle bracelet detector. Man, did that ever feel great! I also had disconnected the Monitoring box from the telephone line, and the electrical outlet. Freedom at LAST! Then I called a cab, under a fake name. I waited on the cab for about twenty minutes. A very, long, twenty minutes, at that.

The cab arrived. I jumped in. I told the driver, Im going to the airport. He asked, where are you going? I replied, on vacation. I never did tell him exactly where I was going. I just told him, drop me off at the South West Airlines Entrance. Thanks, I said. I hurried inside the airport. I found the Boarding room, and the gate area, for my flight.

Inside the Boarding room were three people dressed in black vinyl jackets. On the outside of the jackets, the lettering read: Jackson County Sheriffs Dept. Oh, my God, I thought. Ive been, had! I tried to remain cool and collected. Then I overheard a conversation behind me.

There were two (2) men behind me. Or at least I thought that there were two men behind me. I was too scared to turn around and look at these men. These men had a conversation that scared me. One of the men said, Isnt that James Nile over there? The other man said, Yes, I think it is. Then I heard the first man reply, didnt his bath club burn, and isnt he waiting on an Arson trial? The second man said, yes. What is he doing here, said the first man? Oh, James Nile needs to start his life over again.

James is moving to San Diego. The first man started laughing. And that is all that I had heard of their conversation. Thankfully, these two guys didnt approach me.

I then boarded the airplane. It was June 20Th, 1996. We sat and waited on the ground for another forty-five minutes. There were too many planes taking off, at one time. Finally, the plane ascended into the air. I breathed a big sigh of relief. It would only take a short time, and I would be in San Diego, CA. I could hardly wait.

We landed in San Diego. I grabbed my suitcases. I got a cab. I told the cab driver, I want to go to Tijuana. He said, O.K. We took off down the freeway. I wondered about going across the US/Mexican border. The taxi driver was stopped at the Border. The Mexicans went through my baggage. They of course found nothing illegal. The Taxi driver, and the Guards made a mention about my sterling silver jewelry box. They really liked it. On into Tijuana we drove. I then told the Taxi driver, I need to go to the hotel. He again said, O.K.

We arrived at the hotel. I paid the driver, and he had one of the hotel boys get my bags. I thought that they were cute. And the boys didnt seem too hostile towards me. The hotel had an outdoor pool. A restaurant. The room was very pretty. It was done in mauve colors. Even the floor tile was a pretty pink color. I had an Armoire, with a large Color, remote- control TV. All of this luxury only cost $26.00, per night!

I unpacked my things. Then I took a short nap. I had come a long way today. There certainly was a lot of stress, in arriving in San Diego, CA. I needed to unwind. Later, I awoke. I was hungry. I decided to take a shower. Then I went out. The streets were filled with many people. Such good-looking people. The Mexicans with their dark hair, and eyes, with their golden skin, was quite attractive.

I found a little place to eat. It was called, Charlies. Charles was an Italian-style restaurant. An older gentleman greeted me at the front door. (He may have been the owner.) Then I sat down, and looked at the menu. The food was very cheaply priced. An entire meal was no more expensive than $7.00. I ordered spaghetti, and meatballs. Then I remember that the Mexicans thought that I was Italian. So I spoke some Italian to them. Its funny how Italian and Spanish are so much alike. The Latin in both languages is very apparent.

I left the restaurant, Stuffed. I walked down some busy streets, and heard the men outside yelling, hey, come on in, and see the, Donkey, show. I thought that a Donkey show sounded weird. (Later someone told me, James, I saw the Donkey show. There is a woman who gets fucked, by a donkey, live on stage.) I missed the Donkey show. Pity for me! Then I heard someone yell, hey, if youre gay, come on in over here! I wondered where, here, meant.

I went over to a place with a sign outside that read, Michaels. I went downstairs. There was a large dance floor. With a full-length bar. I walked up to the bar, and asked the bartender, Can I have a Soda? The bartender said, Soda? Then I said, Coke-Cola, He then said, C, now I understand. There were a few people at the bar. There wasnt any music playing.

A couple of Americans came over and introduced themselves to me. They were from San Diego, CA. They were lovers. They gave me a lot of useful information about Tijuana. Later on that evening, there was fantastic Mexican music. The dance floor was overcrowded. And no one seemed to mind the lack of dancing space. I found a younger man, named Juan, to dance with. Juan, and I really danced the night away. Pretty soon it was 3:30 a.m. Juan told me; I dont have sex with anyone, on the first date. I said, Thats fine. Im going back to my hotel. Thanks for the fabulous evening, I told Juan. Then we kissed good night, and left the Disco.

I was only a few blocks from my hotel. The streets were a little quieter than they were earlier. There were still a lot of people out in the streets. As I was crossing the street, a small car stopped. A man inside yelled; hey, are you all right? I said, sure! Then the man said, Ill give you a ride. Where are you going? I said, back to my hotel room. He said, Get in, Ill give you a ride.

At first thought that everything was o.k. Then this man started asking me about my money, and credit cards. I thought that the driver was asking strange questions. I should have known what he was up to. The driver then asked me to go with him to an ATM machine. He wanted me to withdrawal some cash from one of my credit cards.

I went up to the machine, put in my credit card; punched some numbers, and nothing happened. I came back to his car (Big Mistake) and told him what had happened. He then asked me, does anyone know that you are in Tijuana? I said, yes, a lot of people know that Im in Tijuana. Then he said, What if I shoot you, rob you, and bury you in the desert, somewhere? I started laughing at him.

Then the driver said, Lets get out of here. Away we went. He was driving for several miles, when suddenly we heard a police siren. The driver pulled over. The Driver asked me, you got any cash? I said, Yeah, I have $60.00. The policeman approached the driver.

The cop asked for the Mans drivers license. Then the cop asked for my Drivers license. I gave him my license.

Then the driver said, Give me your money. I gave him my $60.00. The Driver put the money into an envelope, and handed it to the policeman. Then the Cop said, Adios.
The driver told me, I have a tail light out on my car. Then the Driver said, and there is a warrant out for your arrest! I cant kill you since the Cop got my Drivers License number, and Car License Plate Number. And the cop saw you, and your Drivers License, he exclaimed. Ill have to take you somewhere and drop you off, the Driver said.

The poor driver took me to a place that was about one block from my hotel. The Driver told me, Get out of my car, and dont look back. He then said, Ive got a shotgun, and Ill shoot you if you look back at my car or me. I got out, started laughing, and he took off. Then I walked back to my hotel.

The next morning I left the hotel. I told the front desk about what had happened last night. They of course asked me, did you call the Police? I of course said, No. I just need to move to another hotel, I replied. I got my extra days money back from the hotel. I got into a taxi. And I checked into another hotel.

In all, I spent about a week in Tijuana. I was lonely for San Diego. I packed up my things, and caught a bus to San Diego. I only cost $2.50. However, I was just glad to be back in the United States.

San Diego was cool and breezy. I decided that since I was low on funds that I would stay at a local mission. Boy, was that a trip. The mission was a big warehouse. They had a small dinner. Followed by Bible lessons. Then all of the men took a shower, which was something of a visual treat. Then off to bed everyone went. We put this cotton, Nightshirts, on. I climbed into a top bunk, and soon fell fast asleep.

The next morning, we had a little breakfast. Then I overhead a conversation. There were two employees, have the Mission, talking about me. One of them said, Yeah, I ran a police check last night. We got this guy named, James Nile, that stayed here, last night. Then the man said, The Cops told us to, Hold MR. Nile there, until they could arrive. I very quietly, and quickly left the Mission. I wasnt in the mood to get arrested.

I drug my stuff around for about an hour. A man came up and told me, you can go over to the, Day Drop-In Center, and drop your things off. Then he told me the directions on how to get there. I marched myself, and my junk over to the Day Care Center.

This was an open area. It was filled with mostly dirty, stinky, crazy people. The people there all stared at me. I was dressed in one of my many silk shirts, and dress outfits. I am sure that I didnt look as though I, Belonged, there. I found a place to store my stuff in. I then talked with a couple of people about getting into a better mission, just around the corner, from us.

The Catholic Church of course owned this Mission. St.Vincent De Paul. I had to spend three (3) more days on the streets, of San Diego, before I could get into this new Mission. There was a drawing in a parking lot late one afternoon. I got one of three (3) numbers, for admission, into the new Mission. I walked over to the Mission, to check myself in.
upon arriving at the Mission, I met a lot of new friendly, but tired faces. The Mission was huge. We were in only one small part of one small building. We were told the rules. Given dinner. And then we went upstairs. Upstairs was a huge facility. There were showers, a large bathroom, and two hundred bunks. I put my things in storage. I took a shower, and then I crashed for the night. It had been a stressful, and busy day.

The next day, we were awakened at 7:00 a.m. We went downstairs, and out to the large Cafeteria. There we had a simple breakfast. Then we were told to leave. If we wanted to come back, to use the, Resources Department, we had to return at 9:00 a.m. I thought that this was a stupid idea that we had to leave. However, I left with everyone else.

We went down the street. There was a large Trolley Car Depot. The Trolley would run from Tijuana, in the South, to a shopping center North of us. The Trolley was fun to ride.

The Trolley cars were German made. The Trolley cars were very modern, air conditioned, and very clean. San Diego had a lot of pride for its Trolley Cars.
At 9:00 a.m., a small group of us decided to return to the Mission. The Resource Department was open. Inside this facility was a computer room. The Instructor, Sister Elizabeth, was the same nun that I had met many years earlier on my plane trip to San Diego, CA. (Remember, I told her, I will see you again?)

Since I already knew how to type; a computer was not a hassle. Sister Elizabeth showed me some very basic Mouse Moves, with the computer. I took the computer from there. Their computers did not have any access to the Internet. I really didnt know what the Internet was anyway.

After a couple of hours in the Computer Lab, it was time for lunch. I went downstairs, and to the Cafeteria. There was always a long line for lunch. The Mission also fed about 1,200 other homeless people for lunch. Only Breakfast, and Dinner were reserved for the residents, staying at the Mission.

After lunch I decided to take a stroll down to the Embarcadero Park. The Marriott Hotel had twin twenty story hotel towers. As well as a large Marina. The dock area went out several feet. Across the bay was the Navy Installation. The Navy had huge ships coming and going into the San Diego Bay Area daily. There was also a large park area, with trees and winding sidewalks. Adjacent to the Hotel was a small unique shopping center. The Shopping Center had little shops, with a variety of things to sell. The shops sold everything from ice cream to books. The area also contained the San Diego Convention Center.

The San Diego weather was warm and breezy. In the afternoons, the morning moisture, from the ocean would, burn off. Then the skies would clear up. The sun would be out. And San Diego always looked, Clean, with that weather. I was always in love with San Diego; CA. Who wouldnt be in love with it?

Later that afternoon I returned to the Mission. I stood in line for dinner. Then I went upstairs, and took a shower. While I was taking a shower I noticed a man, Looking, at me. He was tall, had dark hair, and was older than I. We just kind of, smiled, at each other. Then we left for our bunk areas. I got ready for bed. And I was soon fast asleep.

All of this great weather, and the exercise outdoors, were certainly healthy for me.
The next morning I was making my bed. The man from last nights shower was staying across from me. He was peeking his head around the corner, and smiling at me. I said, hi, my name is James. What is your name? Albert, the man said. I saw you last night, in the shower. I said, yes, you were starring at me! Albert said, well I thought that you were cute. And I know that youre gay, Albert said. There, Albert had, broken the Ice, with our conversation.

I said, yes I am gay. Are you gay, I asked? Albert said, well, what do you think? (Sarcastically) I laughed. And then I replied, well, duh! Then Albert said, lets get out of this, Hell Hole, I said, O.K. We then traipsed downstairs, and out the door.
Albert and I went outside. The day was a beautiful, typical San Diego, day. We decided to go over to the Hillcrest area, of San Diego. Hillcrest is inhabited mostly by gays. It is a small section, of Town. There are a lot of stores, apartment buildings, restaurants, and gay bars, coffee shops. Hillcrest is a very clean, and interesting part of San Diego, CA.

Albert and I spent most of the day in Hillcrest. About 4:00 p.m., we decided to return to the Mission.
We got back to the Mission. We waited in line for dinner. Then we went upstairs. I changed clothes, and took a shower. Albert came over, and we talked for a short while. Then I went to bed.

In the morning, a small, androgynous person came over to visit me. This person introduced himself as, Morgan. Morgan was a transvestite. Morgan was from Rhode Island. I then introduced Morgan to Albert. Morgan, Albert, and I decided to leave the Mission together. We went outside. Then we decided to go to Balboa Park together.

Chapter 10

Balboa Park is huge. It has hundreds of acres. The San Diego Zoo is located in Balboa Park. There is a Golf course, a Frisbee course, Walking trails, and several Museums are located there. Since I had been to Balboa Park before. I showed Albert, and Morgan around the Park.

Albert and Morgan loved Balboa Park. We just wished that we had more time to see more things, in this large park. And then our, Resources, were limited. However, we managed to have a great time there. About 4:00 p.m., we decided to head back to the Mission. We had dinner. Then we went upstairs. It was truly a fun day!

There were many other friends that I met in San Diego, CA. Albert, and Morgan were my, Closest, friends. We spent many days together. We had a lot of, Adventures, in San Diego. We were a, Pack. So to speak. Sometimes, I would spend a couple of hours in the Computer Lab. Then Albert or Morgan, or the three of us would take off, on another journey. They were fantastic friends.

The Mission had a Ninety (90) day limit for the homeless people to stay there. Then, the Homeless people would have to attend a class. The class was on basic people skills, and a little job-hunting skill. After completing the class, the homeless people would go across the street. The facility, across the street from us, was larger. It housed 1,200 people.

There were also families staying across the street.
One Saturday night, I asked Albert and Morgan, Do you want to go to Tijuana? They said, sure. We got on the trolley, and headed south. The Trolley trip only takes about thirty (30) minutes, from San Diego. The scenery is not the most, Handsome, in San Diego, CA. The closer that we got to Tijuana; the more impoverished, and ugly the scenery became.

We arrived in Tijuana, Mexico. I showed Albert, and Morgan how to enter Tijuana, by walking through the gates. Tijuanas abject poverty, dirtiness, and the filthy-looking people did not impress them. I told them, This Northern section, of Tijuana, is the very seediest. However, as we travel Southward, Tijuana cleans itself up.

We continued our walk for about one-half a mile. Albert, and Morgan were already complaining about the distance, that we had traveled. I told them, Its just a little bit further. We will soon get there, I said. On we walked for about six (6) more blocks.

Finally, we had reached our, Destination. There was a little shopping area. It was jammed with outside restaurants. I picked out my favorite place. The host, and several of the waiterss recognized me. They said, Olla, which in Spanish means, Hello. We sat down, and I explained that the price of four (4) tacos, chips and a Coke, was $2.50. Albert and Morgan were shocked. They had never heard of anything so cheap. I went on explain that one (1) American Dollar was worth seven-point-five pesos (7.5). (In 1996) What a cheap dinner, Morgan said. Albert replied, Yes, thats our meal is cheaper than a lot drinks that you buy in a bar.

We sat and ate. Later an older woman came onto a tiny stage. She sang pretty little songs, in Spanish. It was quite a delicious, and entertaining dinner. After we were full, I asked Morgan, and Albert, Do you want to visit some of Tijuanas gay bars? They agreed. We left the restaurant. Then we went to Tijuanas gay bar district.

We walked over to a small hole in the wall gay bar. It was dirty, and crowded inside. There were a lot of Mexican men there. Many of who were probably, Hustlers. Albert ordered drinks for us. Then we sat down to talk. We had a fun and busy day. Morgan said, Im kind of tired. Would you two mind if I went back to San Diego? I said, Morgan I go back home with you. Then I said to Albert; what do you want to do? Albert replied, Ill stay here for a while. I'll be back in San Diego shortly, Albert said.

Morgan and I left the bar. We walked back to the Mexican/United States border. We took the Trolley back to San Diego. We returned to the Mission. We check in and went to bed. It had been a long and fun day.

The next day Morgan and I got up. We went to breakfast. We couldnt find Albert. This had us both worried about Albert. Where was Albert? What had happened to him? We check the dorm area for Albert. We couldnt find him. We were really getting upset at Alberts disappearance.

A few days late Morgan and I ran into Albert. We asked Albert, What happened to you? Albert said, Oh, I got into a little bit of trouble. We then said, what was that? Albert said, Well, I should have known better than to get a hotel room with these two guys. We then said, did you get hurt? Albert said, No. I just lost all of my money, Albert said. We stopped asking Albert questions. We could see that Albert was little embarrassed.

Albert had not been staying at our Mission, for over three days. He was evicted. However, there was a special, winter, shelter, just down the street from our Mission. Albert could stay there. Morgan and I could still stay in contact with Albert. We were glad that Albert was not hurt during his stay in Tijuana.

Morgan, and I had taken our, Classes, to move across the street. We moved on the same night. The new place was larger. It was much cleaner than staying across the street. All of our meals were eaten wit other residents. It was so much more peaceful.

While staying at our new address, I met a good-looking young man named Steve. Steven was 6, 2, had strawberry-blonde hair, and blue-green eyes. Steven was very well built. A bit tough for his age.

He told me that, Im twenty-one (21). Ive been in the Army. I introduced Steve to Albert, and Morgan. Albert automatically hated Steven. Morgan said, arent you, robbing the cradle, just a bit? I said, Well, not really. William was eighteen (18), and I was twenty-eight (28), when we first met. Morgan laughed at me. Then Morgan told me, I just prefer, Older, men. I like men who are, Established, Morgan said. I said, Well, thats o.k. With me. And then I laughed.

Our, Pack, was now four (4). We went out together. We all seemed to get along quite well. Except an occasional, spat, with Albert and Steven. Albert and Steven like to wrestle. Even though Albert was much older than Steven, Albert would always win. I would just sit and laugh at them. I think their wrestling was only a, Show that they put on for me to watch.

I had a little friend, named Kathy. Kathy and her family also stayed at the Mission. One nigh Kathy was scuffling with me. She hit me, I the nuts. Then, I slapped her face. We were in line for dinner. Of course people saw what had happened. Katie ran crying to her parents. Kathy told them, He hit me. Kathy neglected to tell her parents, or anyone else that she had hit me first. Well, this didnt go over very well with the Social Worker. They had me pack up my things, and I was told to return the following Monday. I was suppose to talk to one of their more, Executive, Social Workers.

A friend of mine had just left the Mission. His name was Michael. Michael had an apartment one-block from the Mission. Michael had heard what had happened to me. Michael said, James, you are just too precious to be staying on the streets. Michael then said, Move in with me. I of course had no other, Choice. I then moved into Michaels apartment.

The same people who owned the Mission, the Catholic Church, owned Michaels apartment. After a few days, of staying with Michael, the Director of the Mission wanted to have a discussion with Michael and I. This Manager claimed that I could not stay with Michael, in Michaels apartment. The Manager gave Michael and I some stupid story about some rule that didnt allow two people to live, in one apartment.

Michael and I just ignored the Manager. Then after a few days the Manager wanted to talk to us again. This time the Manager told Michael, If Mr. Nile stays in your apartment, you will be evicted, also. Poor Michael. I didnt want him to get evicted from his apartment. I decided to leave. I went to a nearby hotel.

Albert, Morgan, Steven, and I had fun at my Hotel room. We finally had some privacy in our lives. Steven moved in with me. We went out together. All of us guys had fun!
During the time that I had moved over to the larger Mission area, I had started another Abbot Entertainment Business. Business was pretty good. I had been sending guys out from Michaels apartment. Now, I could send guys out from my hotel room. One of my,

Favorite, escorts was named, John. John was about 5, 8, John had dark hair, blue eyes, and John was Nineteen (19) years old. John told me, I stay with a doctor. I mentioned your name to him, John said. Then John said, Youre from Des Moines, Iowa, arent you? I said, yes? John then replied, you have a very rich, and powerful family. Your Family is also, Old-Line People, John said. I turned three (3) shades of red. What an embarrassment. John and I laughed.
Then John said, you know who this doctor is. It was not a question that he was asking me. It was a, Statement, I dont know who it could be, I said. John said, oh, come on now.

Think real hard about what I just told you, John retorted. I give up, I replied. Then John said, Doctor Paul, form Des Moines, Iowa. Then I said, Damn, I havent seen Dr. Paul since about 1980. We again broke up with laughter.

Steven, and I stayed at the Hotel for several weeks. On June 20Th, 1997, exactly one year to the day, and just a few minutes since I left Kansas City; I called my attorney, Stan, in Kansas City. Stan said, "Stay out of Kansas City for as long as you can." "This thing needs to, die down, for a while," Stan said. I agreed with Stan. Then I hung up the phone. Steven and I decided to walk up to Balboa Park. It was another beautiful day, in San Diego!

There is a place, in Balboa Park called: Martens Point. Martens Point is the highest point, of land, in San Diego, CA. The Point was a Seaside, Look Out, for over two hundred years. People would go to the Point to spot Ships coming into San Diego.

Malsterns Point was also the, Gay Hustlers Area, I told Steven, and Im going to the outside toilet. I'll be back in a few minutes, I said. I went to the down a hill, and into the Restroom. When I came out I saw that Steven was talking with another man.

I approached the older man, and Steven. Steven said, Ive been talking to this nice man. I told him that you own Abbot Escorts, Steven said. Then Steven said, Could I go on a Date, with this man? I said to them both, You can take Steven on a Date, for one hour, for $50.00. Then the Older man said, Just a date? I said, Yes, just a date. Then the Older man said, What if we want to go to a movie or something? I replied, Thats fine. Just remember that its $50.00, per hour to Date Steven. Then I said, Ill stay here until the two of you get back. The Older man said, O.K. I'LL bring Steven back in about one hour. Steven and the older man got into a bright pink jeep, and they took off.

About Thirty (30) seconds later, I heard a voice say, Put your hands behind your back. I had been sitting on the grass. Then the voice said, Youre under arrest. I said, For what? Then there were three (3) cops in front of me. Two guys and a tall blond haired woman. The woman said, gee, youre awfully thin. How old are you? I told her, I cant talk to you, and you know that I cant talk to you. Youre under arrest for Pimping, one of the Male cops said. I was then put into the back of a Police car. Then we drove to the Police station Downtown.

Steven and I were separated. We were put into, Holding, cells. These cells had acrylic fronts walls. The Detective who arrested me said, you have been arrested on Pimping. In the State of California, that carries a three-to-six (3-6) year Prison Sentence. I said, Yeah, but we never agreed to, Sex for Pay! We only agreed to a, Date, with you. The Detective said, that doesnt matter. You dont have any money, or lawyer to defend you. You might as well plead, Guilty, now he said.

I refused to listen to his nonsense. However, this Detective didnt know that I could hear his conversations, in front of me, through the Plexiglas window. The Detective telephoned about twenty (20) people. The conversations were all the same. The Detective was asking everyone on the telephone: I need a place to stay, temporarily. My wife is throwing me out of the house, until I go to treatment for drug addiction, the Detective kept saying. I cant even see my kids, until after Ive completed my drug addiction treatment, he kept pleading.

I was livid. Who was this asshole? Some junkie Detective who couldnt even stay in his own home, with his own Wife, and kids! The Detective found out that there was a Nation-Wide Computer Warrant for my arrest. He came past the window and gleamed at me and said, Oh, so youre also a Fugitive, and an Arsonist? I just looked at him, like he was so much Junkie Trash, and said; well at least I dont need Drug treatment, like you! Then I laughed at him.

As it turned out, Steven, was from Colorado. Hugh had three Felony warrants for his arrest. Steven had also lied to me about his age. However, that was very typical of a lot of, Street Kids. Stevens family owned a car dealership. Apparently, his family rejected Steven being gay. And that was part of the problem and reason why Steven was on the streets.

Then the Cops loaded Steven, and I into the back of their Police Car. We were then driven downtown. We were, checked in, at the front section of the jail. Everyone had to strip. We were told to, spread our Butt cheeks. Then cough! What a sight that made. Of course everyone laughed. Then we were put into a Holding Tank.

The Holding Tank contained over two hundred (200) men. The Holding Tank was used to keep men until they could be transferred upstairs. Well, there were a lot of really rough Street men, in the Holding Tank. Steven and I tried to stay together. Basically for our own protection.

A very large Mexican man came up to us and started a conversation. He said, I hate women! I said, I dont hate women; I just dont want to have sex with them. He replied, I have a wife who put me in jail, and I hate her! I said, Ditch the Bitch, and make the Switch! He laughed at my comment. Then all of a sudden, the Big Mexican man got real loud. He clinched his fists together and said, Fags! Mother Fuckers, he roared! Steven looked at me and I looked at Steven.

Just then the Big Mexican started throwing his fists at Steven. Steven tried to duck the Mexicans fist blows. But the Mexicans hands hit Steven so hard in his nose; that Stevens nose began to bleed. There was a lot of blood all over Steven, and the floor, in very short order.

Chapter 11

Steven and I had some very short wool blankets over our shoulders. There were steel tables. We both jumped up on the tables. The Mexican idiot wouldnt leave us alone. Steven yelled, James, take your blanket and throw it over his head! I grabbed my blanket off of my shoulders, and threw it over this moron. Steven, and I then jumped down off of the table, and started beating as hard as we could on this man. The Mexican underneath the blanket was screaming, Let me out! Steven and I started laughing. We had him right where we wanted him.

The guards finally heard all of the commotion. The guards opened up the cell and charged inside. They grabbed all three of us, and took us to separate rooms. The Mexican was still cussing, Faggots! Steven and I were put into the same cell together. I told Steven, Tell these idiot guards that this big, ugly Mexican attacked us first. Steven agreed. After the guards interviewed us, Steven and I were split up. I have never seen Steven since our, Split-Up. (It has been over five (5) years, to this date, since I have seen Steven. Later Steven and I went upstairs, separately, to some more, Peaceful, holding cells. The inmates there were somewhat more, Civilized.)

I was in a jail Holding Area that housed about twenty (20) guys. There was a good mixture of men in the new Holding Area. The men were Black, White, and Latino. There were no more fights in this new Cell. Basically, I remained in this Cell for several days.

Every day some of the men came and left. One day a short, thin, blonde-haired man arrived in our Cell. I thought that I had recognized him from the past. I said, Hey, Arent you Jeff, from Kansas City? The man said, well my name is Jeff, but Im from Florida, he said. Then the man said, I used to live in Kansas City. But that was several years ago. Then I said, you used to work for me, when I owned Abbot Escort Service. He gave me a strange look. Then he said, Oh, yeah! Now I remember you, he said. Well I had another, Friend, in jail. What a strange thing it was to run into Jeff, in the San Diego County jail.

A few days later a couple of new guys arrived in the cell. They were very clean-cut, young, and quite attractive. One of the, Cell Rules, was that everyone coming into the Cell had to take a shower. Well, I just happened to be near the shower area, to take a pee. The shower area had a makeshift, Curtain, made from a used bed sheet. I peeked into the shower and saw the two new guys having sex. The youngest guy caught me looking at them. He said, hey, that guy out there is watching us have sex! His older friend said, so, this is San Diego, California. There are a lot of gay people in California. And no one cares in this jail, if we have sex, he said. Then he went on to further say, if you want, Ill ask him to join us! The younger man said, No that will be all right! I laughed, and walked away. Those two men were too funny!

A few days later the, Oldest, of the two boyfriends, came up to me. He had a very serious look on his face. He said, Im getting out of here, before my friend does. Would you look after him, he said? I said, sure. Then he said, you could sex with him all you want to. We have an, Open Relationship, he replied. Then he said; if you ever get up to Spokane, Washington look us up. I said, O.K.

His young friend was very shy and had good manners. The two of them had been involved in some sort of, Car Jacking Scam, I really never understood the full explanation of their alleged, Crime. I usually dont ask people about their legal problems. If someone wants to, volunteer, information, about his or her legal problems, then I will listen. Or discuss their, Beef, (Case) with them.

After spending about ten days in the Downtown San Diego jail, I was moved to another jail facility. This new jail was called, The George Bailey, facility. Bailey, as everyone called it was a forty-five minute bus ride from Downtown San Diego, CA. We were handcuffed. A chain is put around the Inmates waist. The handcuffs are locked onto the wrapped-around waist chain. Then the guards put, Shackles, on our ankles. (Shackles are just like handcuffs. Except there is a chain that keeps the shackles together.) Then we were pushed onto a bus. All of our Shackles were hooked to the floor of the bus. And our hands, in handcuffs, were locked on a long metal pole that fastened at both ends. Talk about torture!

The bus ride to Donovan wasnt too bad. There were a lot of, scenic, things to look at on the long bus ride. Finally, we arrived at a short mountain. The bus climbed up the mountain. The bus was driven past a big, wired gate. The gate was closed. Then we were slowly removed from the bus.

We were in the, High Desert, area of San Diego. We were marched through a series of locking doors. Finally, we arrived inside the, Reception, area. Then we were put into some holding tanks. The guards gave us sack lunches. (Two sandwiches, and an orange.)

We went through the, General, Orientation, at Donovan. We were stripped, searched, wiggled our toes, and fingers. And we did the, Butt Cheek Spread, again. How humiliating. As if we were going to, Hide, anything up our butts!

Then we were taken to our various, Houses, (The houses were Cinder Block buildings with huge open areas for eating, and entertainment. Inside there were three, Modules. The Modules were, Open, spaced bunks. With three men stacked to one bunk. Each Module had its own shower, and restroom facilities.)

There was of course very little, Privacy. There were two hundred men in each Module. There were three Modules. The front of our Module was made of Plexiglas. The guards also had a second floor balcony with one-way tinted glass. That way the guards could watch us, and we couldnt see them! However, this didnt stop all of fun and games. Especially, after Lights Out, at 10:30 p.m.

We inmates managed to have some fun. We played so many games of, Spades, that I refuse to play Spades to this day. We also played, Strip Poker, late at night. The loser, of Strip Poker, would have to give the other guys a sexual, Favor. The favor depended on what the winner wanted the loser to do to him!

Some of the guys made what are called, Pruno. Pruno is jailhouse booze. The inmates would take about thirty-five oranges, and peel them. Then they would add all of the sugar from food trays, and canteen that they could get, and put it into the Pruno. They would also add stale bread, for the yeast, into the Pruno. Then they would hide the Pruno in a huge, clean, plastic garbage bag. They would wait three days and then they would, Sell, the Pruno. Actually, it was more like, Bartering, the Pruno. Pruno could be, bought, with a lot of different things. Food, sex, favors, whatever, Terms, that the seller and the buyer agreed upon.

The guards were not totally stupid. As soon as there were several, drunken, inmates, the guards would round us up, and search for the Pruno. The Guards would usually find the Pruno inside, and underneath a garbage can. The inmates never got into any trouble, with the Pruno, as long as the Pruno was not found, In the Inmates Possession. Thats why the Pruno was always hidden in a, public, area of the Cell area.

There were always a few fights. There was a tall, dark-skinned black man, who was in his late Twenties (20s). He was gay. And man, could he ever box other men with his fists. Sometimes, the inmates would, Provoke, a fight. Sure enough, our gay friend would win. His enemy would end up all bloody and finally quit fighting. I asked him once, where did you learn to box like that? He looked at me and grinned, and then he said, I had six (6) brothers growing up. They taught me how to fight. I couldnt argue with him on that statement.

A friend of mine was nicknamed, Popeye. Popeye stood about 6 Feet, Five Inches (6, 5) and Popeye weighed about Two-Hundred and Fifty (250lbs). Popeye got into a fight, at the Breakfast table one morning. A very small, fast, and young Mexican boy punched Popeye several times. Popeye finally said, O.K., I give! Then the little Mexican guy stopped hitting Popeye.

One afternoon we had another little hot Mexican man, who wanted to fight. The inmates lined up in a, Blind. Corner, of our House, where the guards couldnt see what was happening to us. This little guy had bloodied several inmates. Then one of our gay friends, with only one hand, punched the little Mexican guy to pieces!

The inmates name was Michael. Michael was from New York, City. Michaels left hand didnt work at all. Michael had attempted suicide, and fallen asleep on his hand. When Michael was found; it was too late to get the circulation back into Michaels hand. Michael never knew if his, Withered, hand would ever work again.

Fortunately, I didnt get into any fights. I was a friend with just about everyone in the jail. And everyone seemed to like me. I certainly didnt pose any, Threat, to the inmates, or the Corrections Officers.

I even had a couple of, Boyfriends. One was named, Joey. Joey was Hispanic. Joey was about 5, 8, with dark hair and eyes. Joey was about twenty-seven (27) years old. Joey looked more as though he was about twenty-one (21) years old.

Late at night some of inmates would, sneak, around the jail. We would visit the other inmates. I would play cards and talk with Joey. If we wanted to have sex, we would put a bedspread over the upper bunk, and drape it down, over us. It was funny! The guards would come in, during their, Rounds, and check on us. As long as the Guards didnt, catch, us having sex; they didnt bother us. One of the guards had said to me, Mother, for being gay, you sure are, Macho! I said, Thanks! Then the guard said, Whether or not you realize it, you are good for, Morale, around here. I just looked at the guard and gave him a big grin.

My trial, by jury was approaching. My attorney was a highly intelligent lesbian. She had said, Your Pimping case would have never taken place in San Francisco, CA. I replied, Yes, I know. I have been to San Francisco, CA.

I was moved from the Bailey jail, back downtown, to the San Diego jail, prior to my trial. I was taken back upstairs. As I was walking through the hallway, to get to my new cell area, I saw a very familiar face, inside the cell. Then I heard, Mother! I thought that I left you at Bailey Jail, he said. Both of us laughed loudly. I said something to the affect of, Yeah, theres no place like home!

My trial was scheduled to last one week. Monday through Friday. Every morning I was taken to a, Dress-Out, Holding Cell. Then I was handcuffed, and taken to another holding cell, closer to the Courtroom. My attorney had bought a light blue button down collar dress shirt, and a pair of gray dress slacks for me to wear.

Our first big job was to find a, Liberal-Minded, jury. This was going to be difficult. All of the Jurors were Heterosexual. Most of the potential Jurors were retired people. My attorney, and the Prosecuting attorney asked each prospective Juror lots of questions. They needed to determine if the Jurors would be, Suitable, for my trial. We finally had the Jury selected. As well as some, Replacements, in case a Juror became ill or had other, serious, problems.

We started out with all of the descriptions, of the alleged, Crime, committed at Balboa Park. Then we had the, Undercover Sex Crimes Detective, testify. He lied outlandishly in the courtroom. The Detective said that Steven and I had, agreed to Oral Sex for pay. The Detective lied and then changed his remarks to: Oral Copulation, for pay. I was furious. However, I couldnt let the Jury see how mad I was at the lying Detective.

I was placed on the Witness Stand. I testified that Steven and I Only agreed to a, Date, for Steven. I said, I never agreed to sex for pay. Later the Detective would lie again, during his cross-examination. The Detective told the Jury, The word, Date, is the same as, Sex, in the Prostitution Community.

My attorney did a fantastic job with my case. She left no stones unturned, as to the evidence in my Trial. My attorney told the Jury, in her closing statements, we are going to, Brand this Detective a, LIAR, today in the courtroom, she said. Then the Prosecution attorney gave her last statements. Then I was taken to the holding cell.

The guard was really nice to me on the way back to the holding cell. The Guard said, I believe that you are, Innocent, he said. Then he said, what do you think the verdict will be? I looked right at the Guard and said; The Jury will find me guilty. Then I said, there are too many conservative straight people, in San Diego. Then the guard said, well, how long will it take for the Jury to reach their verdict? I replied, about half and hour.

Sure enough. I waited in the Holding cell for about twenty (20) minutes. The guard returned to get me. The guard looked at me and said, you must be, Psychic, or something. Its only been about twenty minutes since I put you into your cell. Then I said, you watch, I'll be found, Guilty.

The guard and I returned to the courtroom. The Judge soon entered. The Judge asked, would the Jury please read their verdict. A middle-aged man raised form his seat, and said, we the Jury find the Defendant, Guilty.

I wasnt, Shocked. I was expecting a Guilty verdict. Especially since the Detective lied on the Witness Stand. Upon leaving, some of the Jurors looked at me and said, Sorry. I thought that that was strange. I thought that the Jury had to have an, Unanimous, opinion. So much for my, Thinking!

I told my attorney, Thanks a Billion! She said, Youre welcome, my Brother. I thought that her comment was very sweet. I was taken back to my Holding cell. Then I was transferred back to my main cell.

Upon arriving back, home, at my cell, Popeye, and a lot of other inmates asked me, Mother, what happened in court today? I said, I was found, Guilty. They were in shock.

About two weeks later, I went back to court for sentencing. The judge was really on my side. I could tell by the hesitation, his physical moves, and the timbre, in his voice. The California law stated that Pimping was punishable by a minimum three (3) to six (6) year sentence. Since this was my first Felony Conviction; the Judge gave me a minimum three (3) year sentence. And he was very hesitant about giving me that much time, in prison. The Judge had made a comment; I have to uphold the Laws of the State of California, even if I disagree with them, the Judge said. I thanked my attorney again. Then off to the large Holding cell I went.
I stayed in the large cell area for about two more weeks.

Then late one night I was told, by a guard, Pack up your things. Youre out of here, he said. I quickly told Popeye, who was still awake, Good-bye. I quickly packed up my things. Then a guard escorted me to the Holding Cell area, next to the back doors, of the jail. I couldnt wait to get out of there.

I was handcuffed, and shackled. Then about Forty (40) of us inmates were loaded onto a bus. We drove towards the Bailey (San Diego County) jail. I was confused. Then the guard at the front of the bus said, hey you guys. Donovan State

Prison is just up the hill from Bailey, the County jail. I was somewhat relieved. At least the Mountaintop would be the same place that Id been before.

What we saw from the bus was a huge prison area. It stretched for miles. Donovan Prison looked like a small city, from the bus. There must have been several thousand inmates housed there. (Later I found out that there were over eight thousand (8,000) inmates housed at Donovan State Prison.) The bus came to a halt. We had to wait a long time before getting off of the bus. All the Prison, Clearance, paperwork had to be done.

Finally, we got off of the bus. Donovan State Prison would be my new, home, for about the next three (3) months. Donovan was the, Intake, prison. I would have a lot of tests theyre, before being transferred to a more, Permanent, prison.

We were all sent to the, Entry Level, of Donovan. There was a big holding area. We had to do the usual strip-search, and butt cheek spread. That was so benign to me by now, that it seemed futile. I was in a large tank. Then one guy asked me, Are you gay? I said, yes. He said, I thought that you were. Then he said, I dont have anything against gays. I said, Thanks! Then he and several others who had heard our conversation all started saying, I want you for my Cellmate! Well, I was very, Flattered. For once I was gay, and held in high esteem! That really bolstered my bruised ego.

After all, I had had a very rough time before now. Of course I knew that being gay meant that my Cellmate would have sex with me. And all of the other men would either have, Closet sex, or they would just have to jack-off. Prison offered so many opportunities for gays.

This leads me to a thought that went back to my childhood. When I was young, and my Mother worked for a Criminal law firm, there was a funny lawyer named Dick. Dick had told my Mother once that, Putting a Homosexual in prison is like putting a Diabetic in a Candy Store! What kind of punishment is that? Dick said. I snickered to myself just thinking about Dicks remark.

We were eventually, Sorted, and sent to our, designated, Prison Cell Area.

There were two hundred (200) men per Building. The buildings were called, Houses, Apparently this was some stupid psychological idea, to make us inmates feel, more at home. What a joke that was.

In my new home there was a twenty-one (21) year old Mexican/Italian, named Amour. Amour means, Love, in Spanish. Amour had breast implants. He/she was now size 38DD, in bra size. Amour was in prison because he/she got into a fight with her, Ex-Boyfriend. Amour told me that she shot her Ex-Boyfriend, in, self-defense. Amour and I became, Instant, friends. Amour was a hoot! She would life up her shirt, and exposes her breasts at the inmates, as well as the Guards! All of the men stare and laugh at her/him. Amour provided, Comic Relief, for all of us.

Amour and I had an arrangement. We would both take showers together. She told the other inmates, Mother isnt interested in me sexually. Thats why we shower together, Amour said. Naturally, some of the other inmates became jealous.

Amour had a, live-in, lover. At Canteen time, Amours Lover brought her sacks of groceries. Her lover was young, tall, and very handsome. Amour also told me that her Lover was, Very well hung. He hurts me sometimes when we have sex, Amour complained to me. I just laughed. It was her choice in men. Not mine.

One morning, as we were getting out of our building, several guys came up and started beating on this old man. I didnt say a word. I just got in line for Breakfast. Later,

I was told that, The Old man was a Child Molester. And thats what we do to Child Molesters in prison. I replied, I didnt see anything. I love children, I replied. This man said, Well thats probably why everyone calls you, Mother. I walked away from this psychopath. That is usually the best thing to do in these cases of dealing with these crazy men.

One night at dinner Amour and I were seated at a table. Some big Mexican man came up, and bashed Amour, with his metal Dinner tray. (Why would a prison have metal dinner trays, is beyond my comprehension.) Amour and this man were on the floor fighting. In about twenty (20) seconds, the guards grabbed Amour, and her assailant, and had them handcuffed, and out the door. That was the last time that I saw Amour. I hope that she is well. Wherever Amour may be located.

Chapter 12

During my stay at Donovan State Penitentiary, I underwent a lot of tests. There were Medical Tests, Reading Tests, and Psychological Tests. It was pouring down rain on one of my test days. Inmates had no raincoats, umbrellas; we only had a light blue denim jacket. I had to walk to the far end of the, Yard. The term, Yard, refers to the inside area of the Prison. Anyway, I finally got inside. There was an inmate receptionist who asked me my name, and Prison ID Number. I gave him that information. Then I had a seat, and waited. After about one-and one-half (1.5) hours, the receptionist told me that I could go in and see the Doctor. I went into a tiny, sparse room.

The Doctor was tall, thin, and wore spectacle wire-rimmed glasses. The Doctor looked to be about fifty or Sixty (50-60) years old. I sat down, and the Doctor said, hello, how are you today? Depressed, I said. The Doctor said, what makes you depressed? I said, Life here in Prison. Then I looked at the Doctor. He looked vaguely familiar.

Then I said, I remember the Iowa Methodist Medical Center. The Doctor replied, yes? Then I said, and I used to work on the, South Five Ward, there. The Doctor got a big grin on his face. Then I said, I remember Doctor Paul. The Doctor laughed loudly. Then I said, oh, sometimes I am so stupid. Youre Doctor Paul, I announced. The Doctor said, yes I am Doctor Paul.

I then said, I havent seen you, Doctor Paul since the early Nineteen-Eighties (1980s). Dr. Paul said, yes, its been a while since Ive been in Des Moines, Iowa. What brought you to San Diego, California, I asked Dr. Paul?

Dr. Paul gave me a funny look. Then he lowered his head and spoke very softly. There was an, Accident with one of my Patients, Dr. Paul said. You know the old saying; Doctors always bury their mistakes, Dr. Paul said? I said, yes? Then the Doctor went on to describe what had happened.

Apparently, Dr. Paul's patient was elderly. This elderly lady had a history of heart problems. Dr. Paul had run all of the, Necessary, tests on her. Sometime during Dr. Paul's Shock Therapy, of this elderly lady, her heart stopped. Dr. Preston and his associates were unable to revive this elderly woman. Then the elderly womans family sued Dr. Paul, and the Hospital. After that Dr. Paul moved to San Diego, CA.

Then I remembered Sandy, my Mothers old friend. Sandy had worked for Dr. Paul. Sandy had told my Mom the same story that Dr. Paul told me. Sandy had also told my Mother that Dr. Paul had moved to San Diego, CA. And that Dr. Paul was working for Donovan State Penitentiary. Sandy also related the, Donovan State Prison was built on a beautiful mountaintop that Dr. Paul had described to her.

What a large Earth, and Small people we have, I told Dr. Paul. Then I said, Dr. Paul, you have a young lover named John, dont you? Dr Paul turned red and said, yes, and John told me that he was working for you! Then we both chuckled. I told Dr. Paul, John is awfully cute! Dr. Paul just smiled. . He even said, James whatever it is that you want or need, no matter how large or small, Ill do my best to get it for you. Needless to say, I got everything that I wanted from Dr. Paul. I told him, Thanks! And then I left.

My stay at Donovan was otherwise uneventful. However all things considered that is great! Late one night a guard came in and said, Pack your stuff. Youre moving, he said. I packed up. Then we went outside. There were about a dozen other inmates waiting outside. Then we went to another two Houses, and picked up some more inmates. Later we were sent to a large Holding Center. We stayed up all night. We were exhausted. Finally about 12:30 p.m., we were shackled, and boarded a bus.

We were told that the bus was Headed North, to Avenal State Prison. I had no idea where Avenal was. One of the inmates said, Oh, I know where thats. Its in the, High Desert, he said. Near Fresno, California. Big deal. I still didnt know where Avenal was located.

The bus ride was over nine and one half (9.5) hours long. We arrived at another Prison. It was raining so hard, that the guards wouldnt let us off the bus. The Guards feared that we might run away in the dark, windy, and sea-like soaking night. (Most Guards never had to pass an IQ Test. In fact, the Guards could work in the California Penitentiaries, while studying for their GED <General Education Diploma. > That just made life, Easier, for people such as myself.)

We finally got into the, Joint. The Guards were nice and gave us all sack lunches. Then we had a little, Chat, with an older Corrections Officer. Basically, he just said, Dont fuck with my Staff or me. And I wont fuck with you! Very typical of the general, Prison Guard Mentality. And it usually worked for everyone involved in the Prison.

The Old Man Guard walked three of us over to the, Third Yard. Upon arriving there the Yard looked like something from a Fraternity House Movie. There were Four Main Houses, and a large Gym. There were a lot of guys walking around and playing basketball, handball, or just talking. We were put in the Gym area. This was where all of the, New Recruits, were housed. The Gym was filled with Double Bunk Beds. A large open Shower area. A row of sinks. Rows of urinals. A row of toilets. There was a small, Stand, upon which the Corrections Officers stood to watch us. We made our beds. I went to sleep. I was dead tired.

I awoke the next morning to find that I had missed Breakfast. Another inmate told me, Hey, you missed Breakfast! I said, I was too tired to even move this morning. We were up for a day and a half. He laughed at me, and went outside. I got my lazy self out of bed. Made my bed. And went outside. There were lots of guys running around, as usual. There was a delicious assortment of men.

One of the guys said, hey, youre new. I said, yes? He said, what are you in here for? I said, pimping. He laughed hysterically. Then he said, that takes the cake! I laughed. Then he said, that shouldnt even be a law! Then we both laughed. Then this man ran around the Yard, and told a lot of other Inmates, That guy over there is in here for Pimping! That was fine with me. I'd rather have people laughing at me, than to have people mad at me. Later, I had to explain my Pimping Felony to a bunch of men. They all laughed their heads off at my story.

Someone else asked me, Are you gay? I said, yes. He said, Im glad that you told me the truth. I dont care what people do, as long as they dont lie to me. He was a tall Black man. Later we would become close friends. As it ended up I had a lot of friends. White, Latino, Black, etc.

one day I was outside doing my chores. The Yard Corrections Officers came up to speak to me. CO (Corrections Officers) Ron was about 6, 5, and weighed over 250lbs, and he had dark auburn hair. The other CO, Steve, was about 62, was a Latino, with pretty dark hair and eyes. Steve said, weve been watching you Mother. I looked at them both, with a puzzled look and said, Yes? Then Ron said, we noticed how well you got along with all of the men on the yard. I said, OK. Then Steve said, we want you to be the Yard Crew Clerk. I said, ME? Then Ron replied, we have had problems in the past with other inmates. Some of the Inmates are prejudice towards others, Ron said. We need someone, like you, who doesnt discriminate against the Inmates. I said, Alright. Thank you. Steve said, you could start training tomorrow. You can go back to your cleaning for now, Steve said.

Yard Clerk! That was one of the highest paid ($48.00 per month! And that was after California taxes were removed) that was the most visible jobs on the entire Third (3Rd) yard. It was an, Honor. I was happily impressed. After work, I went into my, House, and told my, Dorm Mate, Bill the good news. (Bill was in his late Fifties (50s) and he remained my friend, and Dorm Mate, during my entire stay at Avenal State Prison.)

I need to explain my House, and living arrangements. The House only had a locking Front door. Inside were three hundred beds (300) units. There were twelve to fifteen men per unit. The entire inside of the House was wide-open. There were two Tiers of dorms. There were and upper and a lower wide-open public showers. Every afternoon, at 3:00 p.m., the Inmates and I would take a shower together. It was literally called: Shower time with Mother! There was a Sink area. A Toilet area. And at the low front center, was an area for the COs to watch us.

I had a boyfriend. His nickname was, Indio. Indio was American Indian, and Latino. Indio was 5, 10, and 175 muscular pounds. Indio had dark hair and dark eyes. Indio was twenty-five (25) years old. Indio was, buffed, from his neck to his toes. I have never seen a man with muscles like Indio. Indio worked out every day. All of my gay friends, and the, Queens, (effeminate men) were horribly jealous of us. However, there was a, Spoken Rule, No one touches Mothers Man! My friends all gave Indio and I the respect that our relationship wanted.

Indio was really a sweetheart. Unfortunately, Indio was involved with drugs, on the outside, of the prison. That is what, Landed, Indio in Prison. Indio asked me once, Mother, what should I do when I get out of Prison? I said, I think that with your handsome face, and muscular body, that you should be in Calvin Klein Advertisements. I could see his hot face and body on a huge billboard, in Times Square! I have lost track of Indio. I hope that he is doing fine, wherever Indio may be located.

I had another friend. His nickname was, Shady. Shady was tall, had blonde hair, and blue eyes. Shady was about twenty-three (23). Shady would always take his shirt off whenever he was working outside, in the yard. He would tease me with his big muscles on his biceps. I would laugh at him.

Early one evening, while I was inside the House, There was a fight on the Yard. Everyone was called into the House. We were all told to, stay on our bunks. Later, the Guards told us to, take off all of your clothes, including your boxer shorts. This was always a spectacular event. There were three hundred naked men in our open House.

We had to all file out of our Dorm area. Then we had to line up for inspection. The Guards had to check us for bruises, blood, or any damage to our bodies. Steve the Yard Crew Co, and my Boss said, Mother youre getting fat! To which I replied, Well, Im not the only one around here getting fat! The other CO laughed. Then Steve said, are you trying to tell me that Im fat? I said, well, do you want me to lie to you or tell you the truth? Then the other CO said, Come on Steve. Mother never bothers anyone here, leave her alone, he said. Steve moved onto the other inmates.

The next day we inmates were still on, Lock Down. My other boss, Ron, came into my bunk area. Ron said, Mother, you know your friend, Shady? I said, yes? Ron then said, Come out side with me, I have something to show you, he said.

We went outside. Ron and I walked over to a huge puddle of dried blood, on the asphalt. Ron had a large trash container, scrub brushes, and detergent in the trash container. Then Ron said, your buddy Shady got hit by the Mexicans last night. Then Ron, about six or eight of them took those steel combination locks, put them I socks, and hit Shady with them. I was aghast. I said, Oh, my God! Thats terrible! Then Ron said, dont repeat this, but Shady had a drug problem. Shady didnt pay the drug dealers. Shady was sent to the nearby Fresno hospital. I never found out if he lived or died after that, (In most California State Prisons, the Latinos represent about 35% of the General Prison Population. There the Latinos control the drug trade.)

Overall, my life at Avenal State Prison wasnt that, bad. I had a full-time job on the Yard Crew. The job was supposed to be Monday through Friday. However, The Prison is never shut down. And there can always be, Problems. The job also had its, Benefits. Most of the Inmates, who wanted a job on the Yard Crew, came to ask me to work there. I would in return get the brand-new clothes form the laundry. I didnt have to wait in line, as everyone else did. Sometimes, then men would wait over an hour and one-half, in the pouring rain to pick-up their laundry. I got free haircuts. As a matter of fact; the haircutters would, Fight, over who would cut my hair. It was a gas! I also got extra cookies and goodies from the kitchen. Thats why I was getting so fat!

One evening, when I was not scheduled to, Work, I went into the Command Office. I needed a printout from yesterdays Yard Activities. I asked this very clean-cut, young man for the printout. He said, I dont know where the Printout is. (Actually, they were called, DMS. Which meant: Daily Movement Sheet.) Just then Lt. Pennywheel, who a very good-looking woman, with a horrible temper, came into the office. Lt. Pennywheel asked, Whats up, Mother? -In her usual comic but respectful manner of speaking to me. I said, I need Printout #25, I cant seem to find it. Then she looked down at the desk where I had just asked the young man the same question. She then screamed at the young man, here it is. Its on your desk. Why the Hell didnt you give the DMS to Mother, she yelled!

Everyone in the room was frozen. I thought it felt like 50 below zero inside and a Blizzard had struck us. The young man replied, I dont associate with, Faggots. Lt. Pennywheel looked at me, and then she looked at the young man. I thought that I would die. Then Lt. Pennywheel roared to the young man, Pack your shit on top of your desk! Youre fired. Get back to your Dorm! I just stood there frozen. Then all of the men in the office laughed. Then Lt. Pennywheel barked, Alright, who wants to get fired next. Back to work, Lt. Pennywheel said. I told Lt. Pennywheel, Thanks. She said, No problem Mother. Youre a good worker, and good person. You dont deserve to be treated like that, Lt. Pennywheel said.

Later the next day, the news was out about this kid getting fired for calling me a Faggot. The kid came up to me and said, Mother, what kind of, Clout, do you have with Lt. Pennywheel? I replied, you were really out of line yesterday. Lt. Pennywheel and I respect one another, I said. Then kid gave me a goofy look, shrugged his shoulders and walked away. I tried not to laugh at him!

After being at Avenal State Prison was also in charge of the new gay people. Whenever some new outwardly gay person would come onto our Third (3Rd) yard, they would stay in the Gym. Lt. Pennywheel would come to me and say, Mother, theres another girl/or gay guy in the gym. Here is their name. She would say. Then she would always add, tell these new gays what they can, and cannot do here, on the Third Yard. Youre in charge of the gays, as well as the Yard Crew, she would say.

I would walk over to the Gym. Find the new gay person. Introduce myself. And have a, Chat, with the new Inmate. I would introduce the New Inmate to the other gay people on our Yard. I was truly the, Welcome Wagon Mother, of the Third Yard.

My Prison sentence was, if you remember, three (3) years. However, in the California Prison System, there was massive overcrowding. Thus, most Inmates, who had a record of, Good Behavior, would only serve one-half (.5) of their original sentences. (California is a, Prison, State. There are Thirty-two (32) State Prisons in California.)

After a few months of all of this; I was growing weary. The same, Routine, each day, was driving me a little crazy. Of course there is no such thing as a vacation. Sleep is the only vacation that we Prisoner have had. After one-and-one half years, it was time for me to be paroled! (What a relief that would be.)

There were three (3), Going Away, parties for me. Bill had one. The two boys Jamie, and Vanity, had a party. And I had another, Secret, party with Indio. Doesnt that just sound too sweet? I thought that the Prison and the Inmates would never let me go. Finally, my parole day came. I was awakened at 4:15 a.m. The CO told me to, Pack up your things, Mother, youre getting out of here today. I packed my things together faster than the speed of light! Then I was taken to the, Release Holding Area.

At the Release Holding Center, I dropped off all of my extra clothing. I was told by a very kind CO, Ive heard a lot of good things about you. Why dont you keep the blue jeans, shirt, and flat shoes, as our, Going away gift? I told the Guard, Thanks. Then I sat down to wait on my, Ride. About forty-five (45) minutes later, two men appeared in our Holding Area. One was a tall, large Black man. The other man was shorter, than the Black man, and he had steel gray hair. These two men approached me and introduced themselves to me. These two guys were from Kansas City, Missouri. They worked for the, Fugitive Apprehension, department, of the Jackson County Sheriffs Department.

They had flown to Fresno, California. They had to fly in and out of four different airports. I could tell that they were already tired from their trip. The guys had rented a large purple van. I got into the back of the van. They rode up front.

I teased the big Black guy. I said, Hey, you remind me of Rosy Greer. You know the famous football player that used to do needlepoint on the airplanes. The big Black guy laughed at me. Then I asked him, Are you going to do any Needlepoint on the airplane? He said, No. And he laughed again. Then I looked at the older White man, with gray hair and exclaimed, You remind me of someone who owns an Italian restaurant. The older man laughed and said, They warned us that you were very entertaining.

Then we took off for Fresno. I explained everything that they wanted to know about Avenal State Prison. Avenal had seven Yards. Each Yard contained around 1,200 men. Except for the Fourth yard, which housed women. The Avenal State Prison was, built on the City, of Avenal property lines. The drive to Fresno was only about thirty-five minutes long. Along the way we saw huge, Sun Maid, raisin farms. There were large Orange orchards. There was also a lot of barren land. We reached the airport at Fresno, California. Even though it was early in the day; the airport was very busy.

Now I need to describe myself. I was dressed in a blue jean shirt, and blue jeans. My hands were handcuffed. I then had to wear Shackles on my ankles. I couldnt walk very well, or very quickly. I tried to imagine what I looked like to the other people at the airport.

No one looked at me. No one cared! I was first put off by this lack of attention. Then I began to realize that this was California. Avenal State Prison was only thirty-five minutes West of Fresno, CA. These people didnt know me. No did they care.

We checked into our airline Departure gate. The Escorts had to register their guns with the airline. They just showed the airline clerk some paperwork, had it approved, and onto the on ramp of the airplane we went. As we were boarding the airplane; one of the Stewardesses saw me, and my handcuffs, and my Shackles. She got a big grin on her face, and then she said sarcastically to everyone, He looks really, Dangerous! Everyone laughed. Including the Captain. We headed for the very last row of seats on the airplane. (Those are, Federal, regulations for escorts traveling with Prisoners.)

We had quite the adventurous day flying back to Kansas City, MO. We had to travel through four (4) airports. One of which was Las Vegas, Nevada. In Vegas, my Escorts played roulette. They smoked in the gambling area. I watched. Later I asked them, did you win anything? They both said, No, we lost. Just dont tell our Wives. I laughed at that! We arrived in Kansas City around 10:30 p.m. I was transported to the Jackson County Jail. To wait on the Bath Club Arson Case.

I was replaced on the, F, module. There were all new inmates, since I had been there, several years ago. Some of these inmates were headed back to prison, after spending eighteen (18) or more years in prison previously. Many of these, Hardened, inmates were completely obnoxious. They had no respect for themselves or anyone else. They didnt care what trouble they got into. They were headed back to their, Prison Home, anyway.

This didnt make life any easier for me. After a couple of weeks of tolerating these losers, I asked to be moved elsewhere. My wish was granted. I was moved to the, New, section of the jail. It was so much better. Everyone had a large area to watch TV, and talk or play card games on. Everything in the new jail was fresh and clean. Even the guards, some of which remembered me, were better. I spent from March 1999-September 1999 there.

Finally, the Jackson County Prosecuting Attorneys Office contacted me. They would, cut a Deal, with me. They wanted me to go to trial, and face two Felonies. Then I told my attorney, tell the Prosecuting Attorney that I have contacted the news media. Several TV stations, and newspapers want the names of my gay Escort, and gay Bath Club Members.

The Jackson County Prosecuting Attorneys Office told my lawyer, Well that makes a big difference! There are a lot of people in Kansas City, and beyond that would be affected by Mr. Niles testimony in court. Apparently, the Prosecuting Attorneys Office would reconsider their original threats to me.

The, Deal, was finally this: I would agree to receive two (2) misdemeanor Felonies. One for Arson, a Class, D, Felony. The other Felony: Attempted Stealing, through Deceit. (That was for the insurance company. I never collected a dime from them!) That was also a Class, D, Felony. Then I was released from jail.




After being, ejected from jail, I went up to the liberty memorial mall. It is also called the gay park. (There is an old photograph on this Website) I was standing in a parking lot. It was a warm autumn day. A small car dove up with an older man inside. He got out and we walked towards each other. We introduced ourselves. I really didn't, explain, my situation. He took me home.

He lived in Olathe, Kansas. He had a cozy three-bedroom townhouse. He also had two teenage children. A twelve (12) year old boy and a seventeen (17) year old girl. I found a job the next day at a restaurant.

I lived in this comfortable situation until one night; the girl refused to allow me to use the telephone. I had asked her two or three times to use the phone. She ignored me. Then I picked up the phone and politely said I need to use the phone, please. She ignored me, and she refused to let me use the phone.

The next thing that I knew she got into her dads second car. She drove to her dads place of business. She and her dad returned. The girl went into a very psychotic outrage. She had a, nervous breakdown, right in front of her father, and i. At first I thought that she was, acting, then I soon realized that she was either high on drugs, or crazy.

The next day I told her father, I couldnt and I wont put up with your daughters psychotic episodes. He became livid and said; she's always like that. Then I said id rather live in the streets, than to live with her. He looked at me and said, well, where would you like to go? I said, take me to midtown. We drove to midtown, and he dropped me off. I contacted my friend Joe. Joe first said, you could stay with me, James. I later found out that was not the case. I then spent the night on the streets.

An update on my former friend, from Olathe, KS: his two- (2) children no longer live with him. The boy lives with his mother. His daughter lives on her own. My former, friend, has had two or three lovers in the meantime.

The next day I went to a, drop-in center. The manager there helped to place me into a homeless shelter. I also found another job. It was closer to the homeless shelter. I really didnt need my, friend, from the park.

After seven (7) months of this lifestyle; my probation officer decided to have me moved to a, halfway house. I was back in midtown. There were two gay friend's, of mine, who stayed at the halfway house. We managed to have some fun together.

My new probation officer was also a former employee of mine. His name was Jerry. He only worked for me three (3) times, several years ago. I remember one of my customers saying, James, that escort of your is young and handsome. But he has some kind of mental problems. The escort came back from seeing this customer. He and I decided that it would be best if the escort didnt continue working for me.

Well, my probation officer decided to lie about my activitie's, at the halfway house, where I lived. He claimed that I was running an escort business, from the halfway house. There was nothing further form the truth!

Jerry had me falsely arrested. I spent nearly two (2) weeks in jail. I had a super attorney. She was about to have eight (8) witnesses testify against my probation officer, in court. Then my PO dropped the falsified charges. I was released from jail.....

Its pretty quiet most of the time. I have my friends. I have a peaceful life. I dont regret anything that Ive done. Only what I haven't done!


After nearly six (6) years: The Sweetest Redemption, and Revenge!

09/21/01 while in court today, it was announced that the TIF (Tax Increment Financing) group, from the City of Kansas City, had found several discrepancies in the true ownership, of the Mothers gay Bath Club properties. My attorney contacted both the TIF and the City attorneys for Kansas City. The City attorneys office said that, "The So-Called, owner, of these properties, has never been determined. The City, of Kansas City sent a check in the amount of $160,00.00 to someone, they reported. All of the other funds, to purchase these properties in question, have been put into an Escrow account. (That means that everyone who has a legal interest, or Lien, will have to fight over the remaining monies in court.) Furthermore the individual who had claimed to own the property had tried to devaluate these properties prior to their sale. In addition to all of this; the so-called owner or someone was paid in excess of the properties Market value, even after the buildings destruction, from arson." Said the City attorney's office.

Therefore I do not owe any restitution monies. I had been making regular restitution payments. I thought at the time that this was a gross error. This was on behalf of the court, and the previous judge, who heard my case. I demand full restitution, for the moneys that I have paid. I also want the individual responsible for committing fraud, forgery, and Perjury, indicted, and punished to the full-extent of the Law.

I will return to court on 10/19/01. Hopefully my probation, and my restitution will be dropped.



Mr. James Nile,


Dear News Media, and Friends:

After appearing in Courtroom Division 17, Honorable Judge Kramer, for the State of Missouri VS. James Nile, it was found that Mr. Nile does not owe any restitution. This case #CR96-0496 involved a gay bathhouse called, "Mother's, that Mr. Nile used to own.

Mr. Crudy Banger and his associates, had committed forgery and fraud, in case #CV95-1544, along with perjury in and for this case. The Jackson County District Attorney agreed that Mr. Nile does not, and should have not paid any restitution. The Jackson County Prosecuting Office should have realized this fact nearly six years ago. However, they took Mr. Banger's word, for the lies that he told about his, and his partner's real estate.

This also means that the State of Missouri's Department of Probation, and Parole, should have never tried to force Mr. Nile to make any restitution. They have tried for over two years to force Mr. Nile, wrongly fully, to make restitution.

Today's courtroom appearance, and judgments have cleared Mr. Nile of any and all restitution payments. It is only too bad it took nearly six (6) years for the truth and evidence to come to light!

Mr. Nile has come to the conclusion that the so-called "Justice System," is run by more corrupt people, that the "Criminals," that are suppose to be prosecuted. "The Biggest and Baddest Crook always wins!"-Nile

Tune in on 11/09/'01, same courtroom, Division 17, at 9:30 a.m. For more startling revelations in this bizarre case!

Judge Kramer has awarded 11/0901: $500.00 credits towards my court costs, attorney fees, and jail time. My total bill of $4,600.00. Is still pending the outcome of my Disability hearing.

The disability court hearing is scheduled for 12/19/'01, @10:30 a.m. Judge Reed, 350 State Avenue, #380, Kansas City, KS.


 04/13/02 my determination arrived.  It was negative.  The Judge made so many contradictions, that I thought that he might be schizophrenic, himself.  I contacted my attorney.  She will file an appeal.  She stated that, "It now takes over twenty-four (24) months, for the appeal process."  What a letter that was, to get in the mail!


07/02/02 Another SSI Application has been denied, and my attorney will file another appeal.  It now may take a minimum of five (5) to seven (7) years, for both of my SSI applications, to be finalized.  Of course, I may still file future SSI applications.