Longtime Companions

Autobiographies of Gay Male Fidelity

Alfred Lees, Ronald Nelson

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• ISBN:
  9781317789857
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Ciencias sociales
• Subtopic: Biografías de ciencias sociales

Longtime Companions: Autobiographies of Gay Male Fidelity provides a sophisticated alternative to "anything goes" gay literature. Challenging the stereotype that gay men are incapable of lasting and successful relationships, 15 long-term gay couples share slices of their own lives to give you insight into their present relationships, while some discuss life after their mates have passed on. You will find that their stories offer an inspirational and richly fulfilling alternative to an empty life of promiscuity that lacks true love. Through a treasury of autobiographical essays, Longtime Companions documents how committed gay male unions can be as enduring, nurturing, and diverse as heterosexual marriages and proves that loving commitments and life-sharing are not exclusive to heterosexual unions. A celebration of gay diversity, this book offers you insights from contributors of different ages, professions, geographic locations, and attitudes. You will learn the intimate details of the couples'lives, including:

• how they met their partners
• how soon they committed to each other
• how long the couples have been together--from 14 years to over 50 years
• their keys to leading successful, happy lives
• the ways in which their relationships fulfill their personal needs and contribute to community life You will come to realize the true strength of these men's relationships as you share in their struggles within a society that offers them little recognition or support for their successful relationships. Co-editor Alfred Lees explains in the introduction to Longtime Companions, "We've all worked diligently to make our partnerships sound, nurturing, and enduring. We've done this without any social motivation, largely without role models, in the face of 'official'disapproval or contempt. We've told our stories here to refute--by the simple facts of our experience--the grotesque misrepresentation of gays as being incapable of stable, committed relationships."Will add more...Through a treasury of autobiographical essays, Longtime Companions documents how committed gay-male unions can be as enduring, nurturing, and diverse as heterosexual marriages and proves that loving commitment and life-sharing are not exclusive to heterosexual unions. A celebration of gay diversity, contributors vary in age, profession, geographic location, and attitudes. You will learn the intimate details of the couples'lives, including:
• how they met their partners
• how soon they committed to each other
• how they managed to collaborate on successful, fulfilling lives
• how some have maintained their commitment as part of an open relationship You will come to realize the true strength of these men's relationships as you share in their struggles within a society that offers them little recognition or support for their successful relationships. Co-Author Alfred Lees explains in the Introduction to Longtime Companions, "We've all worked diligently to make our partnerships sound, nurturing, and enduring. We've done this without any social innovation, largely without role models, in the face of 'official" disapproval or contempt. We've told our stories here to refute--by the simple facts of our experience--the grotesque misrepresentation of gays as being incapable of stable, committed relationships."

The Joint Accounts

The Ballad of Eddie and Scott

Scott Samuelson with Edward Dudek

Our story together actually begins in the early fall of 1980—thank God! This makes it mathematically convenient to remember which anniversary we are celebrating at all times. But before we go there we wanted to give a little individual background for some added color. To this day, and by my calculations this would be sixteen and a half years into this relationship we call ours, neither of us can quite figure out how we ended up here. Had you asked either one of us seventeen years ago what our idea for the ideal mate would have been, I don't think we would have described each other. Be that as it may, here we are and here we intend to stay.

I (Scott) was born on March 14, 1957 and raised on the East Coast in a formerly industrial city in Connecticut called Waterbury. My father, from whom I've been estranged for over ten years (a tale I might get back to—but probably won't, since it has nothing to do with my being gay or my relationship with Eddie), was a machinist in small shops around Waterbury throughout my whole time in his house. He was not a specialist of any kind, meaning he wasn't a tool-and-die man or such, just the guy who was fairly proficient on any number of machines and could move around the shop as he was needed. Although this sounds like it would make that person a valuable asset, my father was probably the lowest man on the totem pole as far as salary went. Somehow, and I'm still not sure how, we managed to survive—albeit not in the best of neighborhoods, yet always clothed and fed and every now and then treated to a little family recreation. I must say that being raised with a little less always makes you appreciate what you do get when you do get it.

My mother is a terrific lady whom I adore, not that she is in any way perfect, but she has always been my champion and our (Ed's and my) biggest supporter. My mom was diagnosed with a rare kidney disorder when she was nineteen years old. Consequently, she spent quite a lot of time in and out of the hospital while I was growing up. I guess if I really thought about it I could come up with a sad story about this situation, but when you are not aware of any other way of living your life, you just move on. Today, my mom lives, sans kidneys (dialysis three days a week), back in Connecticut. Although she is pain-free for the first time in her life, she is truly frustrated by her inability to pick up and move around as she would like to do. But valiantly she marches on. My parents divorced shortly after I left home and Mom married again—more happily.

To move on quickly, I will tell you that I have three sisters back in Connecticut. They all, as I, are doing the best that they can with what they have. Due to circumstances that you will have to wait to read about in a different book, their road is not always as smooth as I would like it to be for them. But we all continue to love and support one another the best that we can.

I moved out of Waterbury in 1977 at the age of nineteen, heading for New York City to pursue a career in the theater—what a cliché. I attended the American Academy of Dramatic Arts and went on to professional theater a couple of years later. That brings us up to the time that Eddie and I met, except to tell you that I did not come out completely until I was twenty-one years old, although I believe I knew I was gay from about the age of nine or ten.

Eddie, on the other hand, says he feels he knew he was gay when he was about six years old and acted on it at a very early age. He was born on May 14, 1951 in Detroit, Michigan. He is of Polish descent and his family is steeped in those wonderful ethnic traditions. To this day he tries to carry on those traditions in our household. That is not so easy, since I, coming from a mixed bag, was not used to those kinds of traditions and am not always as flexible as I wish I could be. I have gotten better over the years, I hope, and Ed is extremely tenacious.

When Eddie was six years old, his father passed away. It was terribly unexpected—a brain aneurysm—and it left his mother to make some extremely difficult decisions. There were family properties that had to be sold off and a move that took them away from the neighborhood that they loved. I suppose it was more difficult for his two older sisters than it was for a six-year-old. They helped his mom the best that they could, all of them. His mother was a fiercely independent woman with a will of iron and a heart of gold. She provided well for the family and kept everyone in line. She passed away in January 1997, not an easy passing, and she is sorely missed. She struggled long and hard her entire life and may she now truly rest in peace.

* * *

Eddie was a great student throughout his school days and loved it. He was also a vehement member of his church's choir and was devoutly religious from a very young age. He was very active with local community theater and studied ballet with the Detroit Savero Ballet. When he was twenty, Eddie auditioned for and got a part with a touring company of Disney on Parade—a part he performed for over three years before moving to New York to continue his professional dance career. He worked steadily and made his living as a dancer for over twelve years. This is about where our story together begins.

It was in 1980:I had just auditioned for and gotten my first union show and was very excited and very nervous. It was a production of Good News that was being performed in a theater restaurant in northern Connecticut called Coachlight Dinner Theatre. I got this job because I had just finished working in a summer theater with a musical director who was now the resident musical director for this place. He thought I would be right for the show and invited me to come to New York City for rehearsals. Eddie, on the other hand, had already been performing at this theater with the resident director and choreographer for a few years. He was tremendously comfortable and had established himself as chorine in residence. He was the life of the rehearsal process—and pretty obnoxious from my insecure point of view. He sat behind me with a friend of his, another regular dancer at this theater, in the chorus musical rehearsals. All throughout these rehearsals, in breaks between the actual learning of the music, he and this guy would chatter incessantly. I, of course, being the good little first-timer, thought they were being totally rude and disruptive. Although I never was sure what they were talking about, my paranoid little self was sure it was nothing good and it was about me. It was very disconcerting, but I thought I had just better ignore it, as I had enough to think about with the show itself.

Years later, Eddie would tell me that what they were talking about was how broad my shoulders were and wouldn't they just love to try me out. For that I will just have to take his word, but at the time no one could have convinced me that was the topic of conversation. As you will probably get to understand throughout this account, I—despite my many genuine positive attributes—am overly insecure and slightly paranoid. You would have a very hard time finding anyone to corroborate that statement, but nevertheless I'm being sincere. That is actually, probably, the one thing that Eddie and I have in common. To the world we probably appear to be very much in control of everything at all times, but we are constantly questioning ourselves and each other.

When the rehearsal process in New York was finished and it was time to relocate to the theater, we had various ways of getting up to Connecticut. Most just took the bus from Manhattan's Port Authority depot. This is where everything really began.

As it turned out, Eddie and I chose, totally coincidentally, to take the same bus. When I arrived at the bus platform, I saw Ed standing with a very attractive young man, and Ed introduced him as his lover, John. He was a very nice guy and actually was on his way to get Eddie something to drink on the bus and would I care for anything? He walked away and Ed started to talk, informing me that he and John had been together for six years, and was I involved? The answer to this was not really, but I had met someone recently and we had gone out a few times, but I wasn't sure where that would go because I would be away for a couple of months. John returned and it was time to depart. They said their good-byes and off Ed and I went.

There happened to be a female cast member on that bus and we all sat near each other and had a great trip up to the theater. There was lots of laughing and dish about the show and other cast members. One thing that I have to confess to (since it's still brought up to me to this day) is a stupid little thing I said to Eddie on that trip. I need to explain my behavior, sort of, in advance.

When I was in school, I had the opportunity to stage manage for a professional Shakespearean workshop group. One winter evening as we were beginning a new rehearsal process, and all the actors were arriving at the rehearsal space, an actor of some renown arrived with a substantial dangle from his nostril area. The director and founder and mentor to this group met this gentleman with a hearty hello and, "Richard, you have a big snot hanging out of your nose." It was not in the least bit discreet, nor did it matter really as everyone there had already noticed the problem. So Richard cleaned himself up, everyone had a good laugh, and the tension was broken. I had found this quite brilliant. The director, being the one that everyone looked up to and regarded as the one in charge, saw that he was the obvious choice to inform Richard of his unfortunate situation. Since everyone there had seen it, and there was no way to do this privately, he made a big deal of it and by doing so put everyone at ease. Back to our story.

So, as Eddie and I and Regina were talking, I noticed this accumulation of a white substance in the corner of Ed's eye. Having had the aforementioned experience, I said to Eddie, "If you don't get that gook out of the corner of your eye, I think I'm going to puke." To this day, I insist I handled the situation with wit and sensitivity. I'm sure you see the similarity between the two incidents.

I'm not positive, but I think this might be where we connected. For sure, something was different between us, now.

When we got to the hotel at which we would be staying, we found out that by coincidence our rooms were right next to each other. After settling in we made plans to have dinner together. We went across the street to a nice little place called Two Mattoon. We had a great dinner and even better conversation, and it was at this dinner it became apparent that we were in trouble. There was no mistaking our intention to go further than that.

As I stated earlier, I know that neither of us was what the other would have considered to be his "type," but things had absolutely transcended that. We were definitely in something, whether it was love or lust; it was happening. Without going into the gory details, we did sleep together that night and it was truly the beginning of the end on one hand and the beginning of the beginning on the other.

* * *

What you need to know at this point is that Eddie is a tremendously loyal and faithful man, and this was not a simple matter. He was, after all, in a six-year relationship and had a lot of baggage. I did not. After a few weeks of this "affair," I called in the chips. It was to be me or John. It was not that I wanted John out, it was that I was at the point where I didn't want to continue in this situation if there was nothing in it for me in the long haul. An ongoing adulterous affair was not what I was looking for. At that point, I told Eddie to take the time to figure this out. He eventually decided that things were not as good at home as he would have liked them to be. He decided to leave John. Again, none of this was frivolous or easy for either of us, and it took a lot of time and was very painful for a lot of people—not just Eddie, John, and me. There were family and friends that were involved and no one was particularly pleased with this situation.

When the show was finished we returned to New York and had to make arrangements for living. My apartment was still being sublet and Ed had to vacate his and John's. So we sublet for a while and then moved into my apartment. We lived together for almost a year and suddenly things got weird. Eddie informed me one night that he was having second thoughts and wanted to return to John. I thought I was going to die. It was one of the most devastating things that has ever happened to me. I didn't know what to think or do. I would go to work and come home and not even remember what I had done. And I am not a fragile person. Eddie eventually moved out and back to John.

For some reason we stayed in close contact. Soon after he moved out he got a show that was going to tour the East Coast for the summer. Over the course of this tour we stayed in touch, and at some point, Eddie asked me to meet him in the Poconos where the show was playing. I wanted to know why but he wouldn't say. Still, I went. It was then he informed me that it was not working out back with John and he wanted to return to me. There was one hitch. He and John had put a deposit down on the purchase of a house in the Catskills. He stood to lose $10,000 if he backed out at that point. I had some serious thinking to do. At the age of twenty-three, and a theatrical hopeful to boot, how was I going to be able to handle this financial burden? We talked long and hard, and I decided I would go for it. Much of the mortgage maneuvering was left to me because Ed was still on tour, but we actually were able to pull it off.

John, at this time, was a very confused and angry man. I certainly don't blame him. But after a few years we actually became very good friends. I even got him a job with me at a restaurant in Queens where we performed together for a couple of years. John was a very handsome, very talented, and very intelligent man. He and I had a ton of fun at the restaurant, and the three of us became extremely close. John even stayed in our house upstate (the one he was supposed to buy with Eddie) for a vacation one year. It was devastating to both of us when John informed us that he had AIDS. He suffered with the disease for a couple of years and passed away on December 3, 1988. The day we got the call, Eddie happened to be upstate and I had to call him to tell him. It was not only sad that John was gone, but that we were not able to be together at that moment to console each other. He was a big part of our lives, in the end a wonderful part, and we still miss him a lot.

In 1984, Eddie decided he did not want to continue as a dancer and I was not very happy in my pursuit of stardom, so we decided to leave the theater and open a business of our own together. What could we possibly do? After agonizing hours of conversation and debate, we decided we would both be happy owning and operating a bed-and-breakfast. So that became our quest. Because we owned the house in the Catskills and had met a lot of people, we chose to look there for a piece of property to be our B&B. In September of that year, we purchased a run-down, dilapidated old summer hotel on the shore of White Lake, in upstate New York. The place was truly a disaster. It needed to be gutted and rebuilt, but it was what we could afford.

So Eddie, Tom (a fabulous stray weimaraner we adopted the year we bought our first house), and I started tinkering and playing at the hotel. We spent the next few years trying to put enough equity into the place so a bank would lend us the real dollars for the major renovation. We did this by working on the cottages that surrounded the main building. We worked full time in New York City, Eddie in his apartment-cleaning business and I at the restaurant mentioned before. We would take the money we made, whatever was left over after expenses, and run upstate and buy supplies or give it to whoever did some job for us during that week. As you can imagine, it was a slow process.

It was in those years, 1985 to 1989, that I think some of our fondest memories lie. We always had friends up to visit. We had parties in this tumbledown mess. We made some great new friends; people were always stopping by to see what was going on there. The building is on a main road in a small town—need I say more? My mother and her husband were always there—they had given us part of the down payment when we bought the hotel, and part of the deal was that they got the use of one of the cottages for ten years. They were a great source of encouragement (most of the time) during those years. Ed's family—his mother, and one of his sisters and her family—were out from Michigan a few times and actually stayed with us there. My boss at the restaurant and his family, truly our adopted second family, were always up to help and play and fight and cry and laugh and eat! We still howl when we reminisce about the silly things we did at that time.

As with everything in life, all was not perfect. There were certai...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• We're Not Lost, We're Here
• Foreword
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• Marry Us
• THE JOINT ACCOUNTS