Wayne Edward Peterson was born on July 6, 1954. Today would have been his 54th birthday.
Wayno was 19 in 1974 when he moved to New York City. His experiences were very different then mine, but so much the same. He was in the middle of the gay rights forefront. I was somewhere in the backwash of America, getting my footing in Minneapolis, but then settling down in Coos Bay, Gleneden Beach, Eugene, Boise and Hood River (all the hot spots). But for a four-year stint in LA, a short time in my hometown of Seattle, and about 2 years (total, two stays) in Minneapolis, my adult life has been spent in small town USA. His was in New York City. He knew people who were at the Stonewall Riots. He was in New York for the bicentennial celebration. He knew people who died of “consumption” in 1978 and 1979, three years before the medical community recognized AIDS. I’ve read about the Stonewall Riots, seen pictures of the bicentennial celebration and was spared the first five or six years of “gay cancer’.
Even so, we had so many of the same experiences. We realized that we had achieved the same plateau, even though we came from such diverse directions.
Wayno was a very public figure. I am very private. His life was told in four front-page stories in the Yakima Herald. I was proud of him, but always a bit embarrassed I was mentioned. Thankfully, they always got my name wrong.
Wayno was 19 in 1974 when he moved to New York City. His experiences were very different then mine, but so much the same. He was in the middle of the gay rights forefront. I was somewhere in the backwash of America, getting my footing in Minneapolis, but then settling down in Coos Bay, Gleneden Beach, Eugene, Boise and Hood River (all the hot spots). But for a four-year stint in LA, a short time in my hometown of Seattle, and about 2 years (total, two stays) in Minneapolis, my adult life has been spent in small town USA. His was in New York City. He knew people who were at the Stonewall Riots. He was in New York for the bicentennial celebration. He knew people who died of “consumption” in 1978 and 1979, three years before the medical community recognized AIDS. I’ve read about the Stonewall Riots, seen pictures of the bicentennial celebration and was spared the first five or six years of “gay cancer’.
Even so, we had so many of the same experiences. We realized that we had achieved the same plateau, even though we came from such diverse directions.
Wayno was a very public figure. I am very private. His life was told in four front-page stories in the Yakima Herald. I was proud of him, but always a bit embarrassed I was mentioned. Thankfully, they always got my name wrong.
The picture is from a trip Wayno and I took to Maine. We flew into Boston, rented a car and drove the coast of Maine, up into New Brunswick, touching the edge of Nova Scotia and ferrying out to Prince Edward Island. (We both loved Charlottetown.) We then returned to Boston and flew home. It was a great vacation.
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