Memories of an Old Man is a series of memoirs written by West of 50 member, Ken Felts.
Drawing by Chief, 1945
Our time in Raton did not last long as Dad was soon transferred to Albuquerque, New Mexico, as a foreman at the roundhouse there; another move, another new school, and new friends to meet.
I was ten years old, in the fifth grade of elementary school. It was smooth sailing, until near the end of the semester. After recess that day, I was called into the principal’s office and accused of using derogatory words on another student, and he had complained. He was a year older than me and in the sixth grade; considerably larger. I was allowed to apologize but denied that I had done it. The principal told us to settle the problem by putting on boxing gloves. I looked at this guy who was taller and heavier than me, rejected the offer, and was told to apologize, which I did. Bully one – principal – “might makes right.” Bully two - older student picking on younger.
But the 1940s were exciting. I received a beautiful new red bicycle on my first Christmas in Albuquerque. My parents were dismayed a few weeks later when they noticed I had painted it blue, my favorite color.
Taken in Belen, NM, 1942
Sunday morning, December 7, 1941, we awakened to the news that Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor, and we were now involved in WWII. I rushed to my friend Pat’s house, and we, as eleven-year-olds, discussed how we could join and serve our country. Many years later I did serve in Korea. I talked to him once in 1951 when I was home on leave; he had become a minister and was not into serving in the military.
By 1943 we had exhausted Albuquerque and Dad was transferred to Belen, New Mexico, just a few miles south. I was 13 and beginning to question what sexuality was.
One night I was asked to spend the night with a friend from school, ninth grade. Belen was a small town, predominantly Mexican, most homes were built of adobes and warmed by a stove in the living room that radiated heat throughout the house. Soon bedtime came and we were to sleep in his single bed in our underwear. During the night the house cooled, and we cuddled to keep warm; we began to explore each other’s bodies, and it helped me determine that I did like boys.
Unfortunately, as soon as 9th grade ended, my family moved again, to Winslow, Arizona. New town, new school, new friends. New opportunities. I found a job at the theater manning the popcorn machine, perfect for after-school – and free movies.
Taken in Winslow, AZ, 1946
Later I moved on to selling shoes on evenings and weekends at the shoe store. There is a story in itself about the young gay manager who took me under his wing. Winslow is close to the Navajo reservation, and I had several Native American friends who attended the local schools.
Two years later, we were off again on our final move, which took us back home to Dodge City, Kansas where we started so many years ago.