Family Tree
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Timeline
Mom and Dad
My mother was born on the 27th of September 1946 in the village of Toctoc on the island of
Leyte in the Philippines to her mother Delfina and her father Ernesto with the family name
Monesit. She was the second oldest of about fifteen children. They have traced their
lineage back to a group of Indians who immigrated from Kolkata many, many years earlier.
They were married on the 23rd of January in 1973. Amazingly, they had only known each other
for three days when they said, "I do." My grandparents still talk about how one morning
they received a phone call from my dad telling them that he was married. They were shocked.
But that marriage has managed to last three decades with no sign of an ending anywhere.
Dad was a young sailor in the Navy and mom was a seamstress in Manila, Philippines when they
met. He finally retired from the navy in 1990 after twenty years before moving us all to
Huntsville, Alabama.
Dad used his extra time, years after retirement, to go back to college and finally earn his
Bachelor's then Master's degrees. He graduated in December 2000 from Athens State
University. He now works as an engineer at Raytheon. Mom spends her days crocheting and
running the household. During the summer she helps her sister sell vegetables at the nearby
Decatur farmer's market. During the winter, she and her sister run a craft store on the
nearby Redstone Arsenal.
It's amazing to think of how I'm now the age my parents were when they were raising me.
Their lives are so much simpler and easier now. And that's good. God knows, we gave them
enough work to do when we were younger.
My father was born on the 28th of August 1952 in Evansville, Indiana. He was the third
child of Murl and Jean Spalding. He has three brothers and two sisters. This side of my
family is traced back to Ireland, although there are a few other European bloods mixed in
along the way.
The Family
Dad was overseas a lot, defending our freedom and drinking beer in the Navy. Mom worked a
lot and late hours. Sometimes it was hard to see her as well. In between, we were moving
from Olongopo City, Philippines to Alameda, California to Ewa Beach, Hawai'i to Orlando,
Florida to Virginia Beach, Virginia and finally to Huntsville, Alabama.
But we still managed the time to spend certain days at the beach or to take long drives up
the Virginia coast. We even had a time-share in Williamsburg. God, what a disaster that
was...
That left us kids with plenty of time to run around having fun, to get into trouble and to
fight over things that seem so asinine now. I guess we were just like any other group of
siblings.
I know that growing up things weren't perfect. We were sometimes short on money and didn't
always have the nicest things. But we never went without anything that we needed, and my
folks did a pretty damn good job of providing a lot of the things we merely wanted, as well.
Sometimes I can still hear my dad calling us all home for dinner. We spent nearly all hours
of the day outside. I can still hear my mom screaming at me about the mess in my bedroom.
I remember my dad's using us as the remote control for the t.v. before we had a more modern
one. I remember our first remote control. It had four buttons and weighed about two pounds.
I remember my brother and his stories of the way things worked. I remember my sister coming
to my defense whenever my brother tried to beat me up. And I remember my oldest sister,
Lolita, who moved in with us from the Philippines when I was six. I thought she was the
maid.
We worked well as a group and sometimes it's sad that we can't see each other like we used
to. And even when we do see each other, it's never the same. We all have our own careers
and they all have their own children. It's just nice sometimes to remember how it was. I
guess that's why these pages exist.
Through all the moves we went through as a Navy family, my family was the only constant. It
always seemed like in my world people were coming and going, and it became very hard to
picture myself with any of those others for a very long time. But not my family. They've
always been there and they always will.
Lolita Johnson
Lolita stayed in Hawai'i when we left in 1985. She had just recently married Howard Johnson
and was pregnant with her first child when we left. Howard was in the Marines and was quite
scary to young me. Howard Jr was their first born, followed by David and Delores.
Today, they live just north of Seattle in Lake Stevens, Washington. Howard is retired from
the Marines and now works as a recruiter for a university. Lolita works in retail. Their
oldest child, Howard, is in the Air Force and David, a very smart and talented individual, is
about to begin college. Their youngest is Delores.
My sister Lolita was born on the 25th of December, 1963 in Manila, Philippines. She didn't
appear in my life until I was about six, when she finally decided to join us in the states.
Being quite a bit older than me, we were never as close as brothers and sisters should be.
Her role was more as an authoritarian figure over me.
Celia Hermesch
Now, Celia is married to Joel Hermesch. They were married in 1999. They have three kids,
Chavis, from a previous marriage, Jacob, the cutest and happiest kid I've ever seen, and
Alaina, the youngest of all of my nieces and nephews. They lived a pretty serene, cookie-
cutter suburban existence in Niceville, Florida, just outside of Fort Walton Beach before being
moved to the West Coast. The two of them are in the Air Force working as radiologists in the
hospital on base.
My sister Celia was born on the 16th of February in 1971 in Olongopo City, Philippines. We
were very close growing up and into young adulthood. I lived with her for a couple of months
after moving to Hawai'i for college. She was the first one in my family who I told that I
was gay. She was the first one in my family to say that it was all right.
Gabriel Lee Spalding
As we got older, Lee spent a lot of time in and out of trouble. But with age he's seemed to
settle down. Though his marriage was recently ended, he still stays on the straight and narrow.
Hopefully it's a permanent condition.
My only brother Gabriel, or Lee, as he was always called, was born on the 21st of October in
1973 in Subic City, Philippines. He was the average older brother, telling me "just so
stories" of why things happened or existed the way they did. He was the smartest person in
the world to me, even when he was teasing me and making me cry.
A Legend Hatches
I was raised in the Philippines by my own nanny. They were cheap in the Philippines. Just
after my first birthday, my father was transferred to the Alameda Naval Air Station just
outside of San Farancisco. Here, I have my earliest memory.
I was about four, just outside of school. My best friend was in kindergarten. We were
playing together one morning when he had to leave for school. Instead of going home myself,
I followed him. I remember standing at that fence right outside of the school watching all
of those kids. I wanted to be there with them. But I knew that I wasn't allowed.
I turned to head home, but I had no idea where I was. I just started walking. That's
pretty much where my own memories end.
My mother tells me that she was freaking out when her four year old was missing. She called
the police. They found me in a bar trying to order a hamburger. Sounds like me.
I was born 24 February 1975 at the Subic Naval Base Hospital in the Philippines at 0459. I
was christened Christopher Murl Spalding. I think I was named Christopher because my
parents were two of the most unoriginal people in the world. My middle name, Murl, is my
grandfather's name. Quit laughing.
Arrival in Paradise
Growing up in Hawai'i was the coolest. We had no concept of the seasons; whether it were
June or January we were outside all day every day. We'd take frequent outings to Bellows
Beach on the Windward Coast or nearby at "the pier" on Pearl Harbor.
Besides the beach and the year-round warm weather, the best thing about living where we did
was that we were directly under the final approach path to Honolulu International Airport.
All day long, everything from Hawaiian and Aloha's narrowbodies to Northwest's and
Philippines' widebodies would float over the house. I would sit outside for hours just
watching them. This is where I developed the interest in airlines and airplanes that
carries on to this day.
I remember the Japanese Sentai afternoon shows we used to watch religiously. They were much
better than the Power Ranger crap kids are served today. These were authentic, straight
from Tokyo with subtitles and everything. Our favorite was "Battle Fever." Every Tuesday
afternoon, we'd watch it then act it out outside. I always ended up being Miss America.
Atari and disco. Our first VCR. My first crush. All in Hawai'i. What a lucky bastard I
was.
I was four years old when we moved to Hawai'i. My father was stationed at Pearl Harbor and
we lived in Ewa Beach. I started school the following year at Iroquois Point Elementary
School.
Back to the Mainland
We flew together from Honolulu to Los angeles, but split from my dad at that point. He was
on his way to San Diego for training. My mom and the rest of us went on to the next best
thing after Hawai'i, Orlando, Florida. We would spend the next couple of months there with
my grandparents until my dad finally returned.
We moved to Virginia later on in 1985. It was a far cry from anywhere we had lived before,
so middle America suburban. I started school at White Oaks Elementary School, Kemps
Landing Intermediate School, then Salem Junior High School.
Virginia was a nice place. The beach was pleasant and the boardwalk was always full of
people. But I never really appreciated the place as well as I should have. After Hawai'i,
I guess, everything else kind of pales in comparison. In the past couple of years when I've
gone back and visited the area, I love it. I love if for the traffic, the crowds and the
water. I was definitely wanting to move back until I discovered Seattle.
God, what were we thinking? My dad asked us if we wanted to move. We all said yes. But, I
guess, after six years in paradise it was time to move on. Island fever had set in.
That One Moment
He said he was okay with it, but he also had many religious reservations about it. The next
person I told was a priest at a nearby parish. He was a gorgeous young man, so sad that he
was committed to the robe. He was awesome with the news. He told me, "Chris, there's
nothing wrong with being gay." Then I told my sister. She was great with it as well.
I told so many others after that, some were okay with it, others were worried (about how
this would affect my eternal place) but nobody openly rebuked me as a person. It could have
been much worse than it was.
Most of the conflict as far as coming out resided within myself. There was little room to
concentrate on school. At the end of my first semester, I had a B, a C and two F's.
Essentially, my academic career at the University of Hawai'i at Manoa School of Architecture
was over.
Every once in a while I'll let those horrid thoughts of "what if" enter my mind. What if I
were straight? I wouldn't have had all of those personal issues to deal with my first
semester as well as being on my own and adjusting to college. Would I be an architect now?
At one time it was my ultimate dream.
There's also that one sunny afternoon when I walked to the Gay and Lesbian Community Center
just outside of campus. I remember just standing there, staring at it... Just wanting to
go in. What if I had mustered the courage to go inside and talk to others just like me,
with the same fears and misconceptions? Could I have adjusted better and made at least one
of my issues a little easier? I'll never know. So, I try not to think about it...
The entire year was a series of highs and lows. The highs were that I graduated high school
and moved to Hawai'i. On the low side, I skunked my first semester in college and left
Hawai'i. But beyond the retreats, the short lived idea that I was called to be a priest,
and the experience of living on my own in Honolulu, the twenty-third of September was when I
first came out. It was to a youth minister at the college Catholic youth group.
The Martin Year
Martin was a miserable place. I was already sick of it after just a couple of days. Then,
on my third day, I found myself at a tacky luau welcome-back-to-hell celebration. That was
when I first saw him. His blonde hair and grey eyes seemed as out of place at Martin as I
felt.
There was a tight-knit group of five of us, and we relied on each other to pass the endless
days at that college. We all had a sad story about how our lives ended up where they did.
But we also had plans to get out. But until that time, we passed our days getting drunk,
playing dominoes, and making Jungle Juice runs to the Bull Market.
I fell in love with the blonde, out-of-place young man, a condition I don't think that I
completely passed until almost a decade later. He and I continued our friendship even after
our plans for a Martin departure had come to fruition, but it soon faded. However, I still
think a lot about the other four guys as well. I haven't seen any of them since I left
Martin after a year for the University of Montevallo. I really miss them.
I don't think that any of us realized it at the time, but for all of the bitching and
complaining about our situation, I think about it and love the times we had together. When
I look back on my college career I see the year at Martin as one of the best of my life.
Strange but true.
I had flunked out of the University of Hawai'i. I was kicked out of Saint John's
University. But I still had yet to reach the ultimate low. I still had a year of Martin
Methodist College in Pulaski, Tennessee (the birthplace of the KKK, no less) to endure.
A New Life
My world revolved around him for the past year and a half. We were inseparable. But 1996
would be a year of change for me. And the cost seems to have been our friendship.
I moved back home after leaving the University of Montevallo. By then I was fully 100% out
and began exploring my own city's offerings for the gay community. I went to the gay church,
shopped at the gay bookstore, and participated in the gay youth group. I could be found at
either of the city's gay bars a lot of the time. Huntsville had a whole new feel to it. I
had no idea it had so much to offer.
I had my first long term relationship. In the latter half, I met a man in Birmingham and
moved in with him and reenrolled at the University of Montevallo. My lesbian best friend and
I went out to a lesbian club four nights a week. I was living the ultimate life of a young,
gay man. My every moment was just about having fun.
Then, things got rocky between my boyfriend and I. My lesbian friend changed and moved in
with some straight girl. In a matter of weeks, my life was unraveling. Toward the end of
the year, I was back in Huntsville.
My experience in Birmingham was great and I wouldn't change it for anything. But in the
process of living it up at the club, cohabitation with another man, and all of the one-night
stands, I lost my best friend. The man who was closer to me than anyone else just a year
before on New Years Eve was gone. And even though, when the clock struck midnight and
ushered in 1997, I was surrounded by new friends and was full of new experiences, his not
being there made my happiness just a little incomplete.
The year started with my best friend and myself at Underground Atlanta watching the Great
Peach drop at midnight. I remember watching his face as fireworks lit the cloudy sky. He
looked so solemn and detatched. I just wanted to kiss him.
Up, Up and A-Weigh
I spent the first half of 1999 up on top of mountains looking down over my home city. I've
always loved the view from above, but there was an alterior motive for my being there. I was
losing weight and getting into shape. I was feeling better that I had ever felt. And, even
though my life was fast-paced, I never let it go by in a blur. I would stop at Warpath
Ridge for a moment and look out at the world every time I would pass.
As my shadow got shorter, it also got thinner. By summer I was reaping the benefits of all
of my hard work. Every night at a friend's house was a party. There were men and women and
lots of alcohol, all mixed in with raging hormones. But as the summer waned so did the
parties and all of their thrills. I was stopping less and less at Warpath Ridge, because
I rarley ventured to the top of Monte Sano at all anymore.
Then, when the leaves began changing, my life changed.
I was hired by an airline. I was able to travel wherever I wanted whenever I wanted. The
entire world was opened up to me.
In the subsequent months, I was a traveling tornado. Every day off was spent in the air.
And I was no longer looking down at the world from the top of my hometown's mountain. I
was looking down at Chicago from the top of the Sears Tower or at Saint Louis from the top
of the Gateway Arch.
My favorite, however, was just looking down at the world from thirty-thousand feet.
My life has really changed since then. I've been to the top of the Space Needle and over
the Continental Divide, But, sometimes, I wish for the simplicity of that cool February
morning when I first looked down at my simple little world on the top of the mountain.
It was a sunny February morning as I walked all alone down a worn path on the plateau of
Monte Sano Mountain overlooking Huntsville. The foliage around me became less dense as I
walked fairly swiftly to keep myself warm. Soon, the trees were gone and I was surrounded
on three sides by a clear blue sky. I stopped and caught my breath before finding a
comfortable rock to sit on. I looked down at the world beneath me, where cars move slowly
and quietly. I was at Warpath Ridge. I had found a very special place.
The Great Northwest
I visited once again in 2000, but hadn't been back for a while. In the late summer of 2002,
I decided that I needed to go back. I set a week aside and made arrangements to have a car
the entire time that I was there. Then I flew out to the west coast.
Seattle had not lost a bit of her beauty. I drove toward Everett surrounded by the
evergreens of Snohomish County. There were tall, rocky mountains all around me. It was so
urban and earthy. Seattle felt like home.
Then, on a cold Saturday morning, I discovered Capitol Hill and Broadway. There was nothing
like it even in the large Southern metropolis, Atlanta. It was a dozen or so blocks of
stores, shops, and restaurants. There were chains like the Gap and Wherehouse Music, but
even more locally owned gay establishments. Broadway is home to the nation's largest "gay
mall," the Broadway Market, three levels of queer capitalism under one roof.
I visited all of the other touristy places as well, and even those didn't even approach the
level of kitsch of places like Fisherman's Wharf and Disney World. But of all the wierd
quirks I learned about Seattle in the Underground Tour, the most important thing I learned
was what I wanted to do. Where I wanted to be. It was Seattle.
But, here I still sit in the world's largest stand-alone suburb just waiting. But I'm a
patient guy. I'm young. And, unless Rainier has its way, Seattle will still be there.
I first flew into Seattle in January 2000 with a friend from work. He swore that I would
love it. I didn't know. All I ever heard about the area was rain. But as we flew in just
south of the snow covered slopes of Mount Baker, the clouds over the sound began breaking.
There was the Emerald City laid out beneath me. I knew I would love the city forever.
A Decade Out
I'm happy for the energy I put into the gay youth group, Homosexual Aware Youth. I'm
unhappy with the way its founder just let it die when he lost interest. There were still so
many more people who needed us.
I'm happy that I discovered Huntsville does in fact have a few amenities for gays and
lesbians. I'm unhappy that these amenities have seemed to dwindle since the height of gay
life in the city, 1997. The clubs are only half filled on weekends, the gay bookstore has
been closed for years now, and favorite cruising points are now guarded by local authorities
like the Aresenal.
It's okay, though. I've had my fun. Now I'm ready just to settle into school and get ready
to move on. I spent a lot, maybe too many years, trying different things and meeting new
people. There are many regrets and what if's. But something I'll never regret is that
sunny September day in Hawai'i when I took the hardest and largest step I would ever take.
Although it wasn't perfect or played out like the movies, it was still my moment. And
everything else since then has been absolutely worth it.
I can't believe that it's been almost ten years since I've come out of the closet. I'm
happy that the coming out process was completed years ago. I'm unhappy that I've only had
one long term relationship within this period. I'm happy that it ended.
We're in Heaven
Fours years before, I first saw him. I never really though about him that much. I just
thought that he was cute. He was one of many who I thought was cute.
I had never been one to think that I needed someone else to make my life complete. In fact,
and I still feel this way, I learned to depend on myself for happiness. But I never closed
myself off to any possibilities. And 2003 was a bad year for those.
In the springtime of that year, I fell for a guy I worked with. We seemed compatible in
every way and others agreed. A mutual friend had a friend she thought was gay. I thought
he was, too. Then, it happened. The object of my affection and this ambivalent friend of a
friend met. It would have been a cute story (and I still think that it is) except that I was
the one discarded.
It was Christmastime of that year. I met a man in the restaurant that my brother owned at
the time. We hit it off. We talked for hours. I went to his house to help decorate for
Christmas. Then he kissed me. I was swept away. Then came a revelation of which I could
not recover. I discarded myself then.
I was bitten twice and still recovering when that man from four years earlier grew in
prominence in my life. We were working much more closely together and talking much more. I
asked him to come to a show at the club with us. After a few dates, we grew really close.
We decided not to force anything on ourselves but just to see where this all was going.
I was waiting for the catch. But so far there was none. Then, on a late spring evening at a
friend's birthday party, he kissed me. It's been so long since then, and sometimes I still
find myself looking for the catch. I believe that there just might not be one. I may have
actually found the man for me.
He doesn't complete me. I don't complete him. We compliment each other. We talk about the
future, but we don't pile expectations on each other. This is such an easy relationship.
Maybe that's the main ingredient of a good relationship. Not sparkles and fireworks and
sickening butterfly kisses. But ease. And trust. And an absence of struggle.
It's just nice having him around.
"Heaven." It was the song that was playing as his lips first touched mine.
Upcoming Events
My return to college was a complete success, although the last couple of semesters that I
need to finish are on hold at the moment. There just seem to be other important things
going on at the moment. I left the airlines, this time for good. I'll never be able to
shake that traveling bug, but there are just more important things in my life now.
The past few years I have been rediscovering my home town. There is quite a bit here that
is suited to my present, more mature tastes. Huntsville is a quaint mix of old and new,
cookie-cutter and ecclectic, basic and strange. There are a gem of people and places near
downtown at Five Points, a neighborhood where I could actually live out my years. There
are a lot of new and exciting developments on the way, and as long as it keeps growing, I
think I could spend a bit more time here in this oasis in the south.
Seattle is still on the radar. It will always, in some way, be my home. I feel almost as
comfortable there as I do here. There's the beauty of the mountains sloping to the calming
waters of the sound. There are an open minded bunch of people. I always believed that I
will never live my life in a place just because I'm already there. I want to be where I can
make the most of my years. Either Huntsville or Seattle is that place.
And wherever I end up, I will be all right. I see a long and happy future with Ricky. We
are both laid back enough just to let life take us where it wants. And wherever that is
doesn't make much of a difference to us. Just as long as we're together.
I have the opportunity to travel wherever I want whenever I want. I have a wonderful man
waiting for me whenever I get home.
Life is good.
On February 24th 2005, I hit the big 3-0. I used to look upon this time with fear and
trepidation. I think I've made peace with this, and in a way am actually looking forward to
my future years.