Rest in Peace, Sweet Camelot

Dave Pierce grew up in West Bridgewater, and like most boys, loved sports, mostly basketball. When he was 12 years of age, he was 6 feet tall and everyone, especially family, expected him to be a great basketball player. Dave loved playing, but got anxious whenever anyone asked if he was going pro or not. “I’m 12, I don’t know what I’m doing in the next ten minutes, let alone as an adult”. He was bit self-conscious about his height, because inside, Dave felt small or just younger than everyone treated him and he was right.

He was the middle child in a family of 7, and he had 3 brothers and 3 sisters, who revolved around his world like he wasn’t even there. Inside, he wished he could escape the zoo, as he called it. He had a few friends, but through his school years, the one constant was Eddie, and by association, Brenda. Brenda and Eddie had no expectations for Dave, and he appreciated the freedom to be himself in their presence. They partied together, and spent summers on Cape Cod, mostly at Craigsville Beach, where the sand was less rocky and the water was warmed by the Gulf Stream, as it rushed northward, careening off the arm of Massachusetts and all the way to Ireland.

Brenda was always trying to hook Dave up with this friend or that, and always thought it strange that he didn’t connect with anyone. She liked him for his keen fashion sense and told him more than once that he should consider designing clothes as a full time job. Meanwhile, she would tease him by saying, “next time I go clothes shopping, you’re coming with me.”

Secretly, Dave had always enjoyed putting clothes together, he had a good eye for fabric and color and texture. Secretly, too, Dave felt differently than other boys and believed from early on, that he felt more like a girl than a boy. He liked pleasing people in general, but was desperate for a relationship, like Brenda and Eddie had. It just wasn’t that easy and Dave felt a little awkward around the dates he would end up with, as most women were looking for what Dave didn’t have to give.

David Wesley Pierce, or Doowop as his guy friends called him, still played in pick-up basketball games, and he was still quick and could shoot inside and outside with great precision. He’d find games in the evening, a couple of times a week at different high schools or junior high schools in Mansfield and Taunton; and he played with Eddie on Sunday mornings at 7:00 AM at the Middle School in West Bridgewater. The Sunday playing was for Postal Workers, which he qualified for because Eddie’s brother, Matthew, worked at the East Bridgewater Post Office, and who else would be nuts enough to get up that early on a Sunday, in the winter, when it was 15 degrees out and snowing. Only true lovers of basketball could understand. Also, secretly for Dave, was the showering after. His eyes wandered to each other guy in the communal showers they shared, and while they would rank on each other and joke around, Dave would be paying attention to the washing and rinsing of their body parts, he was always the first in and the last one out of the shower. Dave kept the scene in his head and replayed it each night in his pre-sleep thoughts. Wondering, always in secret, what it would be like to act upon the feelings he had of an evening spent with another male.

Today, in mid-April 1963, Dave had acted on his urges to share time with another guy, and quietly, had several male friends to quench his desires, when they arose. He didn’t tell Eddie, but always felt that Eddie knew, but was too good of a friend to say anything; Dave always felt like he would tell Brenda first, if he was ever going to tell.

Today, his mind was on taking a trip with Frenchy, to New Orleans. Though Frenchy was rough talking and usually drunk, Dave instinctively was drawn to him, and they had several evenings of passion, rough sex and alcohol. This trip was sure to help solidify their relationship, if that’s what Frenchy wanted, but also be the first time out of New England for Dave. He was giddy, and packed a big suitcase for the trip and gathered his personal and important papers, along with his checkbook, to hand over to Eddie at Dunkin’ Donuts tomorrow, after work.

Frenchy was buying the tickets, and would pick him up on Tuesday morning for the ride to Logan International Airport. Frenchy had been sketchy about why he was going to “The Big Easy”, but Dave was excited, just to see what there was to see, Bourbon Street, Street Cars (STELLA!!), and music and drink, it was like a vacation; as Dave had been laid off a week ago.

Dave’s job was putting down new carpet in all the Holiday Inn’s between Boston and Providence. Usually, it was a year-round job and always had plenty of overtime, but there had been a strike at the carpet manufacturing plant in Dallas, Georgia, and Holiday Inn had to wait about 5 weeks before they could find another manufacturer or the strike ended, so they had to lay off even the regulars.

This coincided with Dave’s plan for expanding his desire to travel and encounter some new friends. He was not naïve to the ways of New Orleans and the exotic lifestyle one could find there, it seemed from his reading and watched videos of the X-Rated variety. Dave was eager to absorb as much as he could. Any thoughts of danger or trouble were hidden by hormones, whose only need was to get to New Orleans, rapidement.