Cemetery Walk

I had the pleasure of playing a character in the Cemetery Walk produced by the West Sonoma County Historical Society. Thomas Wilton was a businessman in Sebastopol from the the 1860's, and died in 1915. But he had a secret life, so read on to find out what it is.

Standing by the tombstone of Thomas Wilton and George Andrews.

"I celebrate myself, and what I assume you shall assume. For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loaf and invite my soul, I lean and loaf at my ease... observing a spear of summer grass."  [Looking up at the audience] Whitman wrote that. [Turning slightly, touching the "A" on the tombstone tenderly and sighing]

George loved Whitman… Despite his rough exterior, George Andrews was a well-read man. We spent hours discussing Whitman, Symonds, Carpenter and Wilde over brandy and a couple of good cigars.

It's been 25 forlorn, lost years for me -- since he passed away. I miss him every day. George was more than a business partner and next door neighbor. He was a mentor to me and the best friend I ever had in this world. He and I were cut from the same cloth but, in our case, "on the bias" -- completely against the grain.

From a very early age, I knew I wasn't like my proper New England raised mother or my very proper English-born father. Of my six siblings I only felt close to my older brother James.  After he made his way to California in 1853, I followed.

James was always an adventurous one. He was the captain of a ship on Lake Champlain before coming here. I guess I've got a little adventurer in my blood, too. On my way to California from New York State in 1854, I walked across the Panama Isthmus to catch the steamer "Golden Gate" bound for San Francisco.

My brother and his wife were good to me up there in Placerville but, being a 49er was a tough way to make a living. Hard-scrabbling every day in the heat and cold -- all for a few flecks of Earth's  most tempting offering: Gold. "Nuggets, dust, gelt, glitter", call it what you will, gold can drive a man out of his mind quicker than whiskey.

Those nine difficult years of struggle gave me two things: The small stake I used to go into business and George -- two important things that changed my life profoundly for the better. I will always be grateful.

George and I found each other panning gold near Placerville. He was 18 years older than I, born in Connecticut. I was in awe of him. He'd been so many places and done so many fascinating things!

We thought Sebastopol, where we were completely unknown, was the perfect place to start our life together. I came first to set things up, get a feel for the financial opportunities and find places for us to live. George arrived  later and, over the next few years, we partnered several successful business ventures.

George had worked in a saloon up in Eureka and he showed me how to operate a one. We became Wells Fargo agents and sold dry goods -- all of which supported us quite satisfactorily.

All the while, we were forced to hide our true selves from the world around us. During the 1850s in California, those found guilty of a relationship  similar to ours could be sentenced to from five years to life in prison. In England as late as 1834, it was a hanging offense.

How I envy your modern society. So open and accepting. So much less judgmental than in my time, "our" time… Neither George nor I could ever have imagined a concept like "Gay Rights" would exist one day -- not in our wildest dreams…

After George died in 1888, I followed the trial of the playwright Oscar Wilde in England. Such a brilliant man… He wound up serving two years in a notorious prison and after he was released died penniless. And what was he guilty of, I ask you? Of loving someone? Is that a crime? Love?

A  passage written by Oscar Wilde has always struck a chord deep within me:

"Society . . . will have no place for me . . . but Nature, whose sweet rains fall on just and unjust alike, will have clefts in the rocks where I may hide, and secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed.  She will hang with stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleanse me in great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole."

Thanks for dropping by. Have a lovely evening. I'm going to stay here awhile longer with George