Homo! Queer! Fag! Freak! Pervert! I heard the names. I looked at my enemies. I yawned. Little did my tormentors know I was long immuned to being singled out for violent verbal and physical abuse. My mother had conditioned me well. This monster began her reign of terror over me when I was only three. Yet, she and the thugs that followed were dismayed to discover that here was one flamboyant freak who didn't crumble or hide away in a closet. By my freshman year in college in l962, I was already married to the handsome, college rebel, Billy Dragon. He was the first of a long line of sexy, complex, straight men who would make my life heaven and hell for the next fifty years. Strippers, convicts, preachers, priests, Wall Street moguls and wrestlers. I knew them all until September 11, 2001. On that date, I watched the love of my life, Police Officer Devereaux, race into the Twin Towers where he perished before my eyes

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