28-28 (c) Copyright 1993,94,95,96,97 - 4th printing Printed by Unique Publishing, that's me. This book was assembled without using the true names of the people discussed in order to protect the Author, her family and others. None the less, this story is a very true, very factual life story of the Author/Publisher. The Author will assume the name of Kathie and her husband will be known as James. Any other printed names similar to any other known persons from the time period discussed which are included herein are purely coincidental. All efforts have been made to protect their identity as well as mine. All rights are reserved. No part of this publication may be sold for profit, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any other means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Author/Publisher IE: Kathie Smith. A note from the Author This Autobiography deals with a Transsexuals life. I'll be talking about the Male to Female sex change operation. My thoughts will be as straight forward and truthful as possible. Good times and bad will be discussed. A period of 58 years will be covered. I lived 28 years male. Two years in transition and over 28 years as a female. Just what makes me a bit different from most other Transsexuals will be discussed. How my life differs from "A normal person". Was my life improved because of the surgery over the years? Was the surgery a mistake? Would I go through it all again? Just how was my time spent in school as a kid? What did I do about a birth certificate and the other legal documents? What did I do for a living? When you are through reading my story, you will have a much better understanding of this taboo subject. As you turn the pages, you may laugh at me, cry with me, love me or hate me. You'll probably do it all. Now, it's time to get on with my story . . . . It was 7:18 A.M. September 21, 1967 when they came to wheel me off for the operation that would change my life forever. Chilling thoughts of what I was having done to my body were running through my groggy mind. After all, this was not considered to be a reversible procedure. After 30 years of misery, my dream was about to come true. I was going to be reborn. What I was about to have done to my body was not a highly perfected procedure. I'm writing about "A SEX CHANGE OPERATION" in the 1960's. Thank the Good Lord, we were in the 60's. Modern Medical Science had recognized the fact that there was a real need to help individuals like myself. It was just a decade and a half earlier that the procedure that would change my body to match my mind was done on Christine Jorgenson in 1952. Although the 60's medical procedures were somewhat more advanced than the 40's or 50's, you must remember Medical science had not done any heart transplants or major every day open heart surgery yet. The Mental health facilities were still using electric shock therapy to erase a patients memory. Only God knows how many times I had dreamed of the surgery that would make my body match my mind and keep me from killing myself. My first recallable memories were at the age of 2 or 3. I definitely remember being different from other kids. Everything I wanted to do was somehow connected to what little girl's did. Looking back, I can still see the looks on the adults faces. They knew. Sure they knew, I was really a girl in a boy's body. No matter how I tried, I never pleased them. It's somewhat amusing now, looking back, how my life affected the other kids. At the early age of 4 or 5, I was playing house with little girls. At my insistence, I played the mother role while they reluctantly assumed the father role. I wouldn't play if I couldn't be the mother. I was far to feminine for the boys. They didn't want to play with me. So what, I didn't really want to play with them either. What the boys enjoyed doing to me was cruel and inhumane. They enjoyed pushing me around, throwing me to the ground, hitting me and then calling me cruel names. The cruelty very young kids can pass to their pier group is beyond belief. How do they learn to be that way? I suspect they pick it up from their parents. The memories still cause me plenty of mental anguish when I think of how it was then. I have tried very hard to block out the early years of my life. The treatment I received before the age of 12 in general, was very barbarian and in some cases, downright disgusting. Pulling these memories form my brain's memory bank is a very difficult thing for me to do 50 years after the fact. Doing this Biography is painful but a necessary therapy for me. I must not forget where I came from. Putting my story down on paper while I can still recall my distant past is a necessary thing for me to do. School, groan, this was to be the most painful part of my life. A time of life that under the best of circumstances is a very trying experience for many kids. Imagine someone leaving you with a group of kids whose thoughts are 180 degrees away from the way you think. Even kindergarten was a tough pill to swallow. With Gods help and a cousin of mine named Billy, I was able to get home from school without being killed in grades 1-3. I remember recess time most of all. What sticks in my mind during recess was spending most of my time trying to hide or run away from the predators. Some of the boys enjoyed stalking and hurting me more than playing ball, marbles, games or any of the other things little boys did. Little girls didn't do me that way. I was just being myself. The kids didn't really like that. I must tell you more about Cousin Billy. Since we were kin folks, he took it upon himself to be my personal protector. He was a real bully himself. Billy was my savior for about three years. He would walk home with me from school and practice his own method of terror on the kids that wanted to pick on me. There's no doubt in my mind that Billy actually saved my life more than once. For that, I thank him.I have not seen Billy since that time period. I doubt that he would understand or be sympathetic to my situation any way. I have no plans to look him up. I was born a male, in a state faraway from Tennessee on September 15, 1937. My parents were not wealthy but my Dad provided all of the everyday necessary essentials. When I was 9 years of age and in the 4th grade, my family moved from Oklahoma City to Memphis, Tennessee. Having not walked in my shoes, you'll never understand the fears which I experienced because of the move. My cousin would not be in Memphis to be my protector and body guard now. The year was early 1946 and world war two had recently ended. My father worked for the U.S. Navy as a civilian engineer. After the war, he received a transfer to the Millington Naval Air Station near Memphis. My dad was a towering 6 foot tall, 200 pound man who was from the old school. He believed I was born a guy, so I would act like a guy. He played football in high school and college. In his own mind, there truly were no shady areas regarding your sex. I was male! That was that. End of the conversation. It was in his mind that I was going to follow in his shoes. If only he could have understood how I felt. There was no way I could tell him. Kids at that age don't really know what its all about. It would have been an absolutely unacceptable situation for my Dad. That's sad but it's true. Now, I understand, he was just playing the hand mother nature dealt him just like I was playing the cruel hand I was dealt. Of course hind sight is twenty-twenty. I can see that now. At the age of nine, hind sight really was an unknown variable in my life. We all are brainwashed to a certain extent to become what our parents want us to be. What a small child thinks is really secondary. Up to this point, I was just trying to be my own person. It was my Dad and the school kids that were not content with who or what I was. I just didn't meet there specifications. During my school years, all lifes experience were not so terrible. I have a few good memories from when I was a youngster. I can remember my mother having a positive influence on my life. I still have a vision of my father as a cold, non hugging and don't show your emotions (men don't cry) guy. I'm not saying Dad was a bad person. He was only following the guide lines set down by society in that time period. My Dad was a very good provider. I never went without a meal. He saw to it that I had the opportunity to grow up as a healthy, well educated, and loved kid. I can not remember even one time of being hugged by Dad or being told by him that he loved me. That was probably just a sign of the times and not an intentional act on his part. My mother on the other hand was a nurturing, loving and caring person that showed her emotions by hugging and kissing me during my first years of life. I was rarely punished. Mom was usually the person that dished out the punishment when it was needed. When I did get spanked, Mom placed the fear of God in me. My mother was a very aggressive woman and I learned early on, she meant what she said. Looking back, I don't think my mother saw any of the so called problems other people were finding in me. In school, I soon learned how to pretend I was something other than what my heart told me I was. I had an extremely degrading experience daily during the school year while I was in the seventh grade. That experience, along with the onset of puberty changed me for the rest of my life. In the seventh grade, a boy named Paul, for reasons unknown to me even to this date, decided I was his to abuse and pick on every day I was in school. The abuse would start when I first got to school and went to my locker. It would continue between all of the class changes, recesses and my lunch breaks. He wouldn't beat me to a pulp. He would just put my arm behind my back or grab my ear or slam me against a locker. Then he would make me do whatever he wanted. Nothing he did ever was of a sexual nature. Many of the school kids saw this happening to me and laughed with Paul as he went about the business of breaking my spirit. The kids that didn't laugh with Paul turned their heads and offered absolutely no help or condolences of any kind. Thank God, at long last, school finally ended that year. You've probably seen kids leave school at the end of the year and return in the fall a completely different person. That's exactly what happened to me. I was acquiring an above normal aptitude for doing anything mechanical by the seventh grade. I assume I inherited that aptitude from both of my parents. My mom, for the most part, was a do it your self woman. She was quite Ept at replacing a light switch etc. It was no problem at all for her to fix things. My Dad was an engineer and quite mechanically minded. He was more of a carpenter and electrician versus being a mechanic. I enjoyed working on my bicycle, a lawnmower or anything that would run plus other mechanical stuff. Taking things apart to see what made them tick came naturally. I bought an old Whizzer motor bike in a basket for $5.00 and rebuilt it myself. It was a piece of cake. Seeing what a Whizzer sells for in the 90's makes me wish I still had it. I had become an above average mechanic by puberty. I spent the summer growing, getting bigger and stronger. That was a very disgusting thing for me. I didn't want to become bigger and more masculine. I knew then that I wanted a sex change. At the time, I never had heard of a sex change. I just knew I needed to have one. I thought I was the only kid in the world with thought's like that. I'm talking about the age of about 9 and knowing then that I wanted to have a Sex Change. Unfortunately, my male hormones kicked in like nobodies business at about 13. I hated what they were doing to my body. I was about 13 when school ended that year. I remember I had an evening paper route from the age of about ten in order to make a few dollars. I used a lot of my money to buy girls underwear and some female clothing which I hid I the attic at home. I knew when my parents went out on their Saturday morning shopping excursion, they would be gone for several hours. I would use the time to get dressed up in my outfit's and day dream of becoming the female I wanted to be. This had been going on for a long time. I still had no idea what puberty or masturbation was about. At this age, I had not experienced any sexual desires at all. The force was over powering to dress in feminine clothing. It felt normal to me to wear a slip and skirt. I loved wearing my Mom's heels too. Its hard to believe now but at the time her size seven's were to big for me. There seemed to be no way to satisfy my urge. I hated to take the cloths off and put them back in the attic. I would look at the young girls about my age and so much want to be physically like they were. To me, becoming a girl would have been the greatest thing that could happen to me. I was miserable. I just didn't know what to do. The subject just wasn't talked about by other kids. My instincts told me that the subject was one that had to be kept to myself. At 13 years of age, most kids are completely dependant on their parents. Groan, one day, my Mom discovered some girls undies in my room when she cleaned it. I forgot to put them back in the attic. She was very disturbed to say the least. Not knowing just what to do about it, she confronted me and when she was through talking to me, I knew I was close to being committed to a mental institution for what she called help. I wanted no part of that kind of help. I knew then the only help that would benefit me was to have a magic wand waved over my head and to become what I so desperately wanted to be, a pretty little girl. That wasn't the first time Mom caught me. When I was about nine, she caught me putting on her lipstick. She arrived back home earlier than I expected she would one Saturday. I don't remember the outcome from that but I'm sure I was told to never do it again. I couldn't afford to loose the security my parents provided me. Street people were unheard of back then. I pictured myself being without a nice warm home, Mom's meals etc. I just couldn't risk loosing it all. From then on, it caused me to be ever so careful when I dressed up. My Mom never brought the undies incident up again and neither did I. I learned I had to hide that taboo subject from other people, especially my Mom. From that point on, it would be my closely guarded secret. After school was out that summer, I met a boy about my age who was to became my best friend (but not sexually). He shared the same mechanical aptitudes I had. He didn't know about me from school. I couldn't tell him I wanted to be a girl. It seemed my life was finally turning in a direction that made my dad happy. My Mom never told him about the undie problem. Dad had a garage with a storage shed and workshop built behind our home. He gave me the workshop to use. He was so proud of me. I really never tried to please him but how could I let him down now? He didn't know me. He could not and he would not understand my desires. Life for me had become one big sad series of lies, one after another after another. They say money is the root of all evils. By now, money was a part of life and I couldn't do without it. My $5.00 a week paper route just wasn't enough. Ron, the owner of the neighborhood hardware store, knew of my mechanical aptitude and needed a part time clerk. He offered me a job which paid me $12.00 a week. I needed the money so I took the job. I learned so much working there. For instance, cutting and threading gas and water pipe for customers all day Saturday. Ugh, I hated that. Cutting glass to the customers specifications was almost as bad. Even at that early age, I hated getting grease on my hands, skinning my knuckles or cutting my fingers handling the glass. I soon found that was part of being a mechanically minded person. If you can't stand the heat in the kitchen, then you get out of the kitchen. I'll get back to my mechanical aptitude later. Let me talk about my new found friend. His name was Vester. Vester was a normal rough and tumble guy. We had a lot of things in common. Riding on motor Scooters was the biggest thing we did together. Remember, I was at puberty when I met Vester. I never did have any sexual desires by being around Vester during our friendship. Using hind sight, I can see now, my feelings for him were no doubt, those a female would have towards him. As a lot of kids do, we would spend the night out in the back yard camping out. On one unforgettable evening after midnight, Vester was doing something I had never seen a guy do before. I asked him what he was doing. That's when I learned about something called masturbation. I guess I wasn't quite ready for it. I tried but it just didn't work for me. The way Vester talked, it was the greatest feeling on earth. Well I practiced and got the hang of it before the summer was over. It was O.K. but I could live without it. In all the years I knew Vester, I never let him know about my desire to change my sex to that of a female. He just would not understand. I decided not to risk loosing my best and only friend by confiding in him. I talked to his Aunt a few years ago. She told me that Vester found out I had the Sex Change operation. She said he really lowered the boom on me verbally. I will let the words he used describing me be left to your imagination. I'm not trying to X rate my story. What he said was probably worse than most anything you can think of. To me, it is amazing that he reacted that way after so many years had passed. He knew nothing of my desires at the time we were boyhood friends. I believe he felt like people that knew us then may possibly suspect him of having homosexual acts performed on him then by me which is not true. I found as time passed that NO ONE, ABSOLUTELY NO ONE I confided in about my problem, would have anything to do with me again. (Excluding some, but not all of the medical profession and some Gay's I met). I still find Doctors that avoid me like I have the plague. I suppose they think the problem is contagious. Over the years, I made what I thought were some really close friends. Ha Ha, Now, I'm convinced there's no such thing. Even the people I have met that knew me only as a female will abandon ship when they find out about my past. Even with all the negative's I've experienced while having this problem, I must say I would do it again under the same circumstances. I know you most probably will not want to believe it but for the most part, the only known cure for this problem is a sex change operation. That is why it's done. If Psychotherapy worked, then that would be the primary treatment. A few individuals, if caught early enough and before puberty, might be helped by using Psychotherapy. Its worth a try but in my opinion, its not likely its going to be any help. To be helped, you have to want to be helped. For whatever reason, this problem has been permanently and forever imbedded into my brain. Hold on now. There is no such word as CAN'T in my vocabulary. The humane thing to do is try having psychotherapy at the first sign of the problem. If after showing the child the proper way they need to go in life by using Psychotherapy and the child rejects it and says I want to be the other sex. I feel like I am the other sex. Then I say to the parent(s), get on with it before puberty. That way, the child will grow up being the sex they so desperately want to be. Also, for a Male to Female conversion, the changes the male hormones cause at puberty will be largely eliminated. There will probably be no need for electrolysis. The child will likely grow less. I know thats a very tough decision to make but I've been there. That's the answer that would have worked best for me. Women's clothes just don't fit a large male frame. Ladies size 12 shoes are very expensive and awfully hard to find. I know what I'm talking about from experience. I'm a six foot tall, two hundred pound woman now. Most tall, big women usually have smaller body parts. IE: Their feet and shoulders. Hormones bring on a muscular build and other masculine stuff. These things develop rapidly because of all these male hormones at puberty. Believe me, I know what I just said to do to a kid is a very controversial thing to say. Think about it folks. Please, think about it if you have a child that has this affliction. Every one is different. This is a very serious problem and there is no one answer that will fit everyone. Please don't have a closed mind on this subject. Explore all the alternatives. Every law abiding human being needs to be happy, loved and to be accepted. That includes a Transsexual. Use that as a guide. Let me get back to school and the bullies. Registration time again. Eighth grade. The male in me defiantly grew during the summer. I think I grew at least a foot or so. I was taking on the look of a tough guy. I learned to masturbate. I really didn't like my body and what was happening to it but what could I do about it. I resigned myself to the fact that I had to live life as a guy. If that was to be my destiny, I thought to myself, I better learn to kick butt. Once I made that decision, I never had another problem with the bullies after I decided they had pushed me around for the last time. I learned to push back. My roll then was as it is now, that of an aggressive but passive person. I learned to bluff my way out most of the fights. Ha, ha. Only God knows how much I still wanted to be a female. The kids at school never found out about my desires to have a Sex Change. When bluffing my way out of a fight didn't work, then I had to fight. I got my nose broken once. Other times, another part of my anatomy would get badly bruised. I learned to tolerate pain. The word finally got out that I really would fight back. I really am glad I learned to defend myself and not be a big old chicken. I did not go looking for trouble but I quit running from it. I've learned that being a Chicken is not necessarily related to your Gender. I've met some very tough females that were not Butch or Gay. I did make a couple of close friends in High School. Mostly, the guys I decided to run around with were compatible with my desire to ride motor scooters, motorcycles or work on cars. In high school, I got mixed up in a small ring of punks that stole gasoline and took parts off cars at car lots. The gasoline went into my car, a 1939 Ford Coupe. During the 50's, there were Drive Inns compatible to the Sonic's of the 90's. That was the reason I needed the fuel, to go cruising. I really hated going to school. I finally dropped out in the 10th grade. It was soon after I dropped out of school that the group of punks I ran with all got our self in trouble. We were the black leather jacket and duck tails type. You know, like Fonsie on Happy Days. We were caught in the act at a car lot looking for something to take. The local authorities had been watching us for a couple of weeks. We were charged with stealing gasoline and car parts like hubcaps etc. from past excursions. We didn't get caught with anything that night although we were trying to find something to steal. Oh My God, that meant I had to spend a week in the City Jail while the detectives worked on the case. Uck! That was terrible. I found out real quick that I needed my freedom. It really did teach me a lesson. I've never done anything since then that would cause me to go back to jail. I'm not perfect but the idea of loosing my freedom alone has kept me basically honest all these years. I firmly believe almost everyone has a little larceny in them. I don't think we could exist without being a nation of laws. I changed so much that I became a Store Detective shortly after having my Sex Change Surgery. I did that type work for about 12 years in Memphis. I literally caught and prosecuted hundreds of shoplifters over the years. The local detectives knew of my past but never brought it up until I had to arrest and prosecute a Memphis Policeman for shoplifting. About a year after that incident, I quit the Store Detective business. I wasn't fired but The Good Old Boy syndrome would have caught up with me down the road. I received a phone call from an unidentified Detective who handled the case and was told by him that they fixed my record and not to try and get another job doing Store Detective work. I decided to change to a more lucrative profession. I was ready for a change anyway. My salary doubled on my next job as a Courier. That was my gain, their loss. Please bear with me while I ramble from one period of time to another. It's been many years since I let myself think of my past. Some of the past is a pretty foggy now but never at any time while I was legally living as a male did I really want to be one. I only played the part to get along with my peers. Coming out of the Closet just wasn't a viable option in those years. Closets were a place you stored your cloths back then. It wasn't until the mid 60's that I heard of coming out of the closet. Memphis in the 50's was a great place to live. You could leave your home without locking it up. I wish I could have lived those years as a female. It just wasn't meant to be. I remember when grass was something you walked on and mowed. Coke was a Cola and you stepped on a roach. A pot was just a vessel to cook in or a place to put a plant. Gay was to be happy or to have a good time. Etc. I'm sure you get the point. Times have changed. I find that its very hard to change with them. After all, physically changing one's sex does not change their true mental makeup. I am exactly the same person now as I was 50 years ago. Having the sex change only removed one monkey from my back although that monkey brought me down to my knees. I find it hard to describe the feelings I had when I woke up after my surgery. When I get to that point in my story, I'll try expressing those feelings for you. If changing a person's mental makeup was easy to do, then having a physical sex change would not be necessary. In order to get out of the trouble I got myself into, I was placed on 6 month's probation and the juvenile court judge ordered me to go back to school to try to finish getting my education. Well, it didn't work folks. Yes, I went back to school but there was no hope for me. I thought I knew it all. School was a real drag so I day dreamed about being the woman I wanted to be to pass the time. One day, the time came to date girls or be an outcast. I had no feelings one way or the other about liking girls vs boys. I really never did consider myself to be Homosexual. For that matter, I never heard of a Homosexual. They were usually called Queer's by the guys back then. I led a sheltered life in that time period. T.V. didn't broadcast vulgarity. Most of the kids didn't talk about the things kids in the 90's talk about. We would pretend to know more than we really knew back then. If I had seen a Gay person, I wouldn't have known it. If a Guy was a sissy, he was assumed to be a Queer back then. Even now, that may play a part in deciding who is and who is not Gay. I found that you can't always tell using that criteria. Well, one thing led to another and then wham! The love bug struck me. I began dating Jeanie. At the time, she was 15 and I was 17. Things got pretty serious. Yes, we were married over our parents protests. I became a father. We had a baby in 1957. We divorced in 1960. When I told Jeanie of my desire to become a female, that ended it on the spot. I haven't seen the boy since 1961. That was a really tough pill to swallow in my life. The demise of the marriage stemmed from my stronger than ever desire to dress up and be as female as I possible could in my off time. It's hard to believe it now, even myself, but I had followed my mechanical aptitude abilities and become a mechanic. I started as a muffler changer in 1955 for the only Midas Muffler shop in Memphis. Don, the hardware store owner I had worked for, had a friend that managed the repair shop at a Cotton Compress Company in Memphis. They repaired fork lift trucks. I was introduced to Ronnie and he was impressed with my mechanical knowledge. He hired me and trained me to repair forklifts. He also wanted me to be his assistant foreman. Little did he know that I wanted to be a woman more than anything in the world. At this time I was about 18 years old. I had become a world class actor. I was fooling every one. No one had an inkling of what was to come. If I had applied my acting skills to the film world, well who knows what the outcome could have been. I sure was playing a part. When I was 17, I was married and I had a kid. I had a chance to make it as a male in a male dominated world. I worked in the forklift repair shop for Ronnie the next three years. A chance to go to work for one of the Forklift dealership's in Memphis came about. It meant a raise. I went from $1.30 and hour to $1.60 an hour. It doesn't sound like much, but the rent was only 40.00 a month and $8-$10 a month utility bill. The phone $6.00 and groceries were about $10.00 a week. It wasn't easy, but we made it O.K. I never considered myself to be a financially poor person but looking back, I see I was. What you haven't had, you don't miss. You must realize, there weren't as many things then to spend money on. No Big Screen T.V.'s, V.C.R.'s., Hot Water Spa's or Microwave ovens. No Sir, we didn't have a lot but we ate well and had a roof over our head. I considered anything else to be icing on the cake. That's the way every one I knew was living in the 50's. Back then, I figured if I could just make $100.00 a week all my financial problems would end. That was almost a doubling of what I made and was probably like comparing a salary of $12,000.00 to $20000.00 in the 90's. It wasn't until 1965 that I reached my goal of $100.00 a week. As I worked for the forklift company, I soon learned enough to be promoted to a crew chief in charge of training inexperienced forklift mechanics the company would hire. I had to train them to work on hydraulic systems, do spray painting and how to do a complete overhaul from the frame up on the older fork lift's. Yep, I taught the mechanics how to do their thing. All along, the pressures from my problem were becoming overbearing. I would look for and get a cleaner job from time to time. I was beginning to hate mechanic work with a passion. Any stability in a job for me was dwindling down to nothing. Imagine how it may be if you were to learn a trade, then just when the job was beginning to pay a halfway decent wage, you hated the work so much you would up and quit. Starting over isn't easy. Back then, 25 cents an hour was the difference between making it or not. My problem's were so mind consuming, I couldn't even concentrate on a new job That was the largest problem I encountered. Without money, who the heck is going to take me seriously? The money I made was barely enough to eat and live on. Most insurance policies do not cover sex change surgery, not even today. In late 1960, I met another girl and desperately needing someone to talk to about my problem, I confided in her. I spilled my guts to her. I told her I didn't consider myself to be a homosexual and I really wasn't. She said if I could be happy just cross dressing, she thought it would be fun and that she could live with me and be happy. I thought it was worth a try. One thing led to another and we were married. It took a move to Saint Louis, Mo. and about a year. I followed the same job line and worked as a union member on Fork Lift Trucks there. Then, boom went the marriage. She couldn't take it. She was a good person. I hate I messed up her life too. At least there were no kids involved this time and I was truthful and completely up front with her from the get go. I moved back to Memphis in the later part of 1961. I had a trailer full of furniture and a 16ft plywood ski boat. I made up my mind then and there. I was going to either find a cure for my problem or kill myself. There would be no more attempts to try to please my parents or society in general. I went to my parents home and spilled my guts, one of the hardest things I ever had to do in my entire life. It hurt them a great deal. I did a bit of research on the subject. I learned about the downtown news stands. I searched out and read as many of the trashy magazines as I could find with any information pertaining to a sex change operation. I found an address of a person that had the Sex Change Surgery from a Female to Male. I decided I should move to Florida and see what I could find out there from her. After all, if they could make a penis for a woman they should be able to remove my penis and make a vagina for me. My own parents gave me a week to sell my belongings and told me they were now disowning me and wanted nothing else to do with me. Another very sad .. sad .. sad time in my life. Just when I needed understanding and compassion the most, my parents kicked me out of their life. They did what they felt they had to do. In my mind, there's no doubt they were wrong for handling the problem in that manner. The ball was in my court now. I had to run with it as fast as I could. The time was running out for me. My mental stability was almost nonexistent at this point. I sold my all my belongings except for my cloths, a 1960 Ford and my mechanics tools. I knew I could find a job anywhere in the United States. Being a forklift mechanic was a highly specialized profession. It didn't pay very well but it fed me and got me an apartment when I moved. I went to Miami, Florida and saw the fellow who had been born and lived as a woman. I was impressed. I never had seen a person that had a sex change before. I guess I figured if the medical profession could put a penis on her, it would be a piece of cake getting one off me. How hard could that be? Any dealing's I ever had with a Doctor was a positive experience. If I had something wrong, they always smiled at me and fixed me. What I didn't realize at the time was that finding a Doctor to do the Sex Change job wouldn't be so easy. Were talking 1963. Few Doctors had knowledge of such an operation. Getting tuned in on one was another story in itself. I stayed in Miami for about a week. I didn't learn much that would help me from the Female to Male Transsexual but felt like I had found a new friend. A local Miami Forklift dealer didn't need help but they knew the dealer in Jacksonville, Florida. They called the Jacksonville dealer for me from Miami and I was offered a job if I wanted it. It paid $70.00 a week. I decided to make a move to Jacksonville, Florida and take the job. When I sold all my belongings, I had a grand total of aprox. $350.00 in cash. My money would last a while longer but I didn't want it to run out. I definitely didn't have any plans to become a thief or robber and risk jail again. My plans were to get settled into the job first, then start looking for a way to get my Sex Change Surgery. I really loved it in Jacksonville, Florida. It was truly a paradise. I arrived about the same time a hurricane did. I went to the beach and couldn't believe how much water was in the ocean and how high the waves were. I never had seen a real ocean before. A picture in a book does no justice to what an ocean looks like. Unfortunately though, paradise was not going to help relieve my grief. My problem was worsening. I was still a woman in a man's body. I looked like a man. I had hair all over my arms, chest and other unbecoming places for a female. I had large biceps and broad shoulders. I had this stuff hanging off me between my legs. I hated to see it in the mirror. I wanted it to be gone. I had become a man physically. There just really wasn't anything at all sissy looking about me now. My mind and my body were a really big mismatch. At that time, I had never herd the word Gender. I didn't even know my mind was reflecting a Gender. I read all the articles I could find regarding the treatment of people that were getting a sex change. The magazine stores were seeing a lot of me. In my mind, I couldn't trust just any Doctor. Back then, in the South, you could get yourself committed to a mental hospital if you mentioned that you wanted a Sex Change Operation to the wrong person. I had read about those places. I did not want that to happen to me. I had problems, yes, but I knew I wasn't crazy (at least yet). I tried so many times to be the man I was expected to be. I was miserable. Being a guy just wasn't working for me nor meant to be. After some research, I heard of a Doctor in Jacksonville, Fla. that would give me any kind of medication I wanted, no questions asked. (HE WAS A BLACK DOCTOR). At that time, white people just didn't go to black Doctor's. I was desperate. At that time in my life, I wasn't nearly as prejudiced as most white people were. I wanted to start taking the female hormone, Estrogen. I made an appointment and he saw me immediately. I found that all he wanted was my money. He could care less about my health and welfare. I told him what I wanted and he gave it to me. The magazines contained the names of the medication given to people going through a Sex Change. I went to him for a couple of years. At first, he gave me a prescription for a very potent synthetic estrogen hormone pill. Potent it was. It caused cancer in mice, women and who knows, maybe it could in me too. I could not and did not worry about that. I just took the hormones. You can not imagine how much better I felt knowing I had the female hormones circulating in my male body to help counter effects of the male hormones. I was told that taking them for a long enough period of time would shrink my testicles and cause them to quit producing my male hormones in such a large quantity. I have never been a drug dependant addict. I find it hard to believe any drug could have had a more euphoric effect on me than those hormones did at that time in my life. I experienced some upset stomach side effects. I could live with that. After a few months, the Doctor began giving me a strong shot of the female hormone Premarin. I had heard that was the one being used for the male to female change over patients. The Doctor asked me just one time why I wanted the hormones. I told him that it seemed to improve my sex drive. In reality, my sex drive was being diminished. I was going through a chemical castration by taking the hormones. My breast's were swelling and at times were very sore to the touch. I couldn't wear a bra while working on fork lift trucks. You can only imagine how the owner of the dealership would have reacted to one of his mechanics having to wear a bra? You must remember, I was in Florida and it was most always hot and humid there. T-shirts were mostly the uniform of the day by most of the guys. I wore a very loose fitting, short sleeve uniform work shirt over my T- shirt. They probably thought I was a real weirdo. If they only knew. I know It sure was hot. I made occasional trips to Miami to see my friend, the Female to Male conversion. She gave me an address of another Female to Male in New York. I became a pen pal with him. I sent him a few of my pictures and spilled my guts about where I stood. I was becoming very depressed. I could see no end to my situation. I was getting very tired of having to spill my guts to every one I met. My problem was a bit unique because I was so darned masculine. Even I recognized that. I had to shave twice a day to keep my dark beard in check. My new found pen pal was attending Columbia University in NYC and had an apartment at 122nd and Broadway. He said come on up, I have room for you and the worlds most renowned Doctors on the subject you wish to learn about are here. You can probably have the surgery and stay with me while you get your new life together. Well I took him up on the offer. I made up my mind that I would no longer need mechanic's tools since I was going to soon have the surgery. I sold my mechanics tools and a few other belongings. Then, one warm evening in January, 1964, I purchased a one way bus ticket and boarded a Greyhound. I was off to the ever so famous "City of Bright Lights". It was unbelievable. I was so excited. Why, the movie King Kong was filmed using the world famous Empire State Building as a backdrop. Were talking BIG CITY people, BIG CITY. I just knew in my heart I was about to find the Doctor's that would finally help me. When I arrived in New York City, the size of the bus station was mind boggling. I had never seen a bus station with multi-tiers. A person could get lost in a Bus station like that. I called my new friend. He said "get yourself a cup of coffee. He would come right down to get me and guide me to his apartment on the subway". Ahhh, the Subway. That was a really neat experience. Of course Graffiti hadn't caught on yet and the big crime wave of the 90's hadn't happened yet. The Subway was a great way to get around while I was there. It wasn't difficult to learn how to get around using it. I know one thing for sure, it was warm and in the 70's the night I boarded the Greyhound and I left Jacksonville. It was very windy and about 18 degrees when I got to New York City two days later. Wouldn't you know it, all I had was a light weight cotton spring coat. My experiences in New York were far less than pleasant to say the least although my new found friends were really great people. Without them, yes them, I found out he was married, I wouldn't have made it. Luthor's wife, Peg was so kind and understanding. We first caught up on each others lives then Peg gave a few makeup tips and helped me get dressed as a woman. Little did I know, I was about to tour New York City in Drag. Although it wasn't my first time to go out in drag, I hadn't done it in the daytime and I didn't go into forbidden places. You know, like when you go out for a few hours, you need to go to the bathroom. For a guy that never had been in a gals bathroom before, it took guts. I was scared to death of being caught. It was still in my memory, jail was a bad place to go, especially a male jail while being dressed in drag. I have to hand it to Peg, she made me feel very comfortable on all of our excursions. She said, she had gone through it all with her husband when he decided to have the Sex Reassignment Surgery. Well, it took Peg two days to get me to go into the girls dormitory at Columbia University. Her desires were to show me the dormitory she was using while she attended the University. I about peed all over myself when the elevator opened and we got on the elevator with other residents. Yes, there I was, in the middle of the day while classes were going on. I just knew I was going to be caught. I really couldn't enjoy the experience. Let's face it, I was harmless and posed no threat to the girls but the authority's didn't know that. Thank God, I made it out of there although that experience really did help me build up some self confidence. After a couple of days of sight seeing with them, I decided it was time to make an appointment to see a Doctor. I made an appointment with Dr. Harry Benjiman, an expert in the field of sex changes. I had read many of his articles in the National Junk Magazines. The day finally came for my appointment. Dr. Harry Benjiman was a very mannish fellow and to me, he came across as a strong willed, blunt person. He reminded me of my own Dad. He told me things I didn't really want to hear. Things like the hormone shots would cost me more money per treatment than I made a week as a mechanic. Also the Doctor that might do my surgery for me if he would accept me would need his money up front. We're talking more money than I had made in the past couple of years. Yes, I found a place that I could probably have my sex change surgery done but good grief, I couldn't see any way I could ever get that kind of money. I didn't have any rich friends. I never did make much money. Inflation would have out done me had I tried saving that kind of money. It was becoming quite imperative that I have the surgery now, not in a few years. That really put me into a deep depression. My money was getting low. I hadn't found a job. If I did find a job, my frame of mind wouldn't allow me to work. My friends said if I wanted a job, they knew a paraplegic that really needed an attendant to clean, cook and help her get around. She needed a chauffeur. I needed a job. Things were beginning to look better for me I thought. Can you believe it, she was a Psychotherapist of all things. I had to let her patients in so she could do the old fashion couch interview on them like a psychiatrist does. She didn't know that I had such heavy duty problems of my own. (at least, not yet) I took the job. Under normal circumstances a couple of years earlier, it would have been a great job for me. It was a live in job with my own room. I tried but after a couple of days, I lost my ability to cope. I spent all my time thinking, no dwelling on the sex change subject in my mind. I couldn't sleep at night. I couldn't do my job properly in the daytime for her. My spirit had finally broken. My will to live had shattered. I was thinking about suicide. I confided in my new friends. They talked to the lady I was working for. They told me she said she would help me for free. I gave it a go but I was beyond her kind of help. She seemed to think like most other professionals I had approached on the subject. She thought I could be fixed and become normal again. She just didn't understand. I needed a sex change, and I needed it right now. No one understood. It all seemed so simple to me. Why couldn't I just find someone that would reach out, give me a BIG OLD HUG and say we know what you need. We know you will have to have a SEX CHANGE OPERATION before you get any relief from your problem and we are here to help you get it. Well folks, it just didn't happen that way for me. I walked the streets of New York City for several hours trying to figure it all out. Then, I rode the subway for several more hours. I did a lot of thinking. I made a decision about 1 A.M. in the morning while riding the subway. It probably saved my life. I decided I would have myself committed to the Mental Hospital segment of Bellevue, the city's hospital. I had to do some tall talking to get admitted. They said if I wasn't ready to commit suicide, then they couldn't legally admit me. Well I wasn't to the point of suicide right at that minute but I figured all those fine Doctors at Bellevue hospital would see how bad I needed the operation and give it to me. I convinced them by lying about being suicidal. I feel like I was close to being suicidal but was not quite there yet. They had access to any of the necessary Doctors and equipment. All I had to do was tell them, (spill my guts again) the whole story. Well all I got from that episode was an automatic committal to The Manhattan State Mental Hospital for 90 days by a New York City Judge. Jail - Mental hospital. I couldn't see much difference. You loose your freedom in either one of those places. There's not much to say about my experiences while I was in Manhattan State. They medicated me enough to make me sleepy all the time. They gave me the old Ink Blot test and took a history on me. Other wise, I received no therapy or help for my problem while I was warehoused there. After my 90 days, I was given enough money for a bus ticket to Memphis. I was put on an open ward so I could leave if I wanted to. New York wanted no part of me. I had not lived in New York long enough. I was not a true New York citizen. They said they couldn't help me even if they wanted to. What did come from the New York experience was a short reprieve from my problem. The necessary time to gather my thoughts was what I needed to get on with life and to pursue a sex change. I returned to Memphis and to my parents house. God, how I hated to have to do that. After all, they tossed me out on my ear 3 years earlier. They let me return because they were under the impression that I was cured. I never said I was cured but they believed I would not have been released if I was not cured. Were they ever wrong. I let them believe whatever made them happy. I stayed there a couple of months or so while I got a job at the same local forklift dealership I had worked at before leaving for Saint Louis a few years earlier. I went to work there only because I needed some money and I still couldn't concentrate on a new profession. This time I hated the job more than ever. Greasy hands, dirt under my broken finger nails. This time while I was employed with the Fork Lift dealer, I feel sure the guys in the shop knew something was terribly wrong with me. I was under going electrolysis for the removal of my facial hair which I had started in New York. I purposely lost weight and had my uniforms tailored to conform to my new body shape. I think I was beginning to talk in a more feminine manner. That's another weird thing. I didn't have a sissy way of talking or for that matter, I went out of the way to make sure every thing I did was not sissy or feminine. An outsider that didn't know me would never guess I had this kind of problem. I've always felt like a person should play the part they seem to be. I had no problem when dressed as a female of playing the part. When the mechanics uniform went on, my personality would change to the tough male I was expected to be. When I informed Harlie of my decision to quit again, he seemed relieved. I must say, all the people there including the owner's son who was training to take over the business some day treated me with as much dignity and respect as any one possibly could under the circumstances. I hated putting them in a situation like that. If only I could find a way to get the surgery. I couldn't continue much longer like this. Some of the money I earned would be used to remove my beard. I had resumed the electrolysis treatments I started in New York City. Those of you that never experienced electrolysis, you should try it on just one hair under your nose. What it amounts to is inserting a very fine needle, they call it a probe, in one of your hair follicles. They do that to each and every hair growing out of your face, neck and chin one at a time. Once the probe is in place, they press a pedal connected to a transformer which is connected to the probe which causes the probe to destroy (electrically burn) your hair follicle. The principal it works on is that it heats the follicle to the extent of burning or destroying the follicle. Sometimes it has no feeling at all. Sometimes, it smells like burning flesh. Above the lip is a terribly sensitive spot. Try it, who knows, you may like it. Under normal circumstances, there is no way you could do that to me again after my first treatment. Of course, I wasn't ready to live life as a woman with a beard. Nope, not me. I began the process of getting my beard removed while still working as a mechanic there. It took me several years off and on to complete the process of removing my beard. You really look funny between treatments because the hairs have to stick out far enough to grab with the tweezers. A small percent of the hairs will grow back and need retreatment. At first, it seems there will be no end to the treatments but as time passes there are less and less hairs to treat. Also, the Castration and the Estrogen will cause your other body hair to grow less and become very fine. IE: I hardly ever shave my legs now. The hair on my legs and arms have more of a fine downy consistency. While I was working on the fork lift trucks, I enrolled in beauty school. I decided after 6 months that I didn't like that kind of work and quit beauty school. I learned there were some Gay bars located in Memphis from a Gay guy I met in beauty school. Another part of my life was forming, I never had experienced the life of a homosexual. I didn't consider myself to be Gay. Hey, I wasn't Gay. At that time the word "Gay" to me meant being happy, not being homosexual. There was a decision to be made. Should I go to a Gay bar? Would they accept me? Would they make me feel bad with any off the wall comments? Rejection had become a part of my life by now. After all, who want's to be seen associating with a freak. Not me for sure. It seemed there was no choice. I'm not a loner. I needed some friends. I soon learned that the people who go to Gay bars were heavy duty full time drinkers. Up to this point I never had more than two or three beers at a time. Well, I began drinking and bar hopping with the crowd. While in Rome you do as the Romans do. This was in the summer of 1965. For me, it paid off BIG TIME! I met several really great, thoughtful and sympathetic Gay people that helped me through a really bad time in my life. Because of those experiences, my thinking on the subject of being Gay changed from being afraid of them to loving them (both sexes) as people. They accepted me as having no sexual desires at all. By then the female hormones were really doing their thing. I found a Doctor in Memphis, (he was also black), that prescribed more Premarin for me. I was now giving myself hormone injections. As I worked, the hormones and electrolysis were doing things to my body that were becoming very noticeable. I was becoming less masculine (not smaller though). My hair was shoulder length. Remember, most men didn't wear their hair that long then. Those that did were considered outcasts. The Beetles were freaking every one out with their forehead bangs. I tried using Brillcream and water to keep my hair slicked back but that was very hard to do and be an active mechanic. It would be impossible now for me to go on without the final step, a sex reassignment operation. I really felt different now. The beard was becoming less of a problem. There was actually something on my body that would keep a bra from creeping up on my chest. The hormone therapy was causing me to think more like a female. I found myself wanting to get married again, but to a man this time. One evening, while I was in a Gay Bar, a good friend of mine introduced me to James. I never met a guy like him before. He didn't give me a weird glance as so many people were at that time in my life. I must admit, I was a freakish looking thing back then. Not a male, not a female. In my off time, I wore mens cloths but combed my long hair down and wore makeup. I could hear kids asking their Mom, is it a boy or a girl Mommy. One reply I remember was "I don't know sugar, I think its a woman". James had just come in on a bus from up North and he got a job at a local discount store. He said he wanted to go to New Orleans but his money ran out before he got there. God works in many mysterious ways. I believe James was sent here to be my Guardian Angel. I still believe that. I remember the first time I met James. I can see him clowning around and acting a fool on his bar stool. He was living at the Y.M.C.A. and jumped at the chance to come home with me and spend the night. I wasn't looking for a sexual partner, I desperately needed companionship. I spilled my guts to him about myself. He was so very compassionate. I don't remember him going back to the Y except for his suit case. Without James, I would not be here to write this story. He has been my savior and the only male for me to have sexual relations with. When I met him, the bells went off. Since you don't know us, I'll tell you, we are exact opposites. He's definitely all man. He's not a sissy or a limp wrist guy. He loves sports, I do not. I'm very mechanical minded, he isn't. He has more stability in his little finger than I have in my whole body. We found enough in common to make a blissful and enjoyable life together. What was most important is that we needed one another. James is not perfect but then, neither am I. We met 28 plus years ago and we are still together. Sure, we've had both good times as well as bad ones. That seems to me to be what any normal couple would experience. Our love for one another has grown to the point where we are best friends. Not all couples can truthfully say that. Sigh, sigh, gloat . . . Don't let me get ahead of the story, I was still a man when I met James. Without him, the sex change would probably not have happened. I feel sure my demise would have been alcohol and drugs. I was at point in my life that I was ready to give up. I never got into Pot or other drugs but the Alcohol was a big part of how I got by from day to day. I was only a very short step away from the drug problem. The drugs were readily available at that time. Because of and ONLY because of James kind understanding ways, I am proud to say I made it. Looking back, I can't see how James made it through the first several years of living with me. I had become unbelievable arrogant and self centered. I still have some of those traits but the years have tamed me down a bit. It was in January of 1966 when I met James. I turned 28 in September 65. I had gotten to the point of not being able to work shortly after I met him. It would be a full time job beginning now for me to become a legal female. James decided I should quit work and let him help support me while I readied myself for the surgery. Together, we decided if our relationship was to survive, it would be imperative that I have the surgery. I needed a female body. He needed sex. I'm of the opinion that a Vagina is the organ that was made to fulfill a mans needs. Sorry, I refuse to go along with the Oral Sex scene of the 90's. That's nasty. I'm probably just a prude but that's the way I feel about it. I tried the sodomy route once and that's not right for me either. Maybe I'm just an old fashion person. The sexual revolution came at the wrong time for me. I really never figured out just how James fit into the Gay lifestyle puzzle. I suppose he was a Bi-sexual that leaned heavily towards female companions. After all, I met him in a Gay bar, he knew I was a male. Of course, James was a heavy duty drinker during those years. Wherever beer was served was good enough for James. In hindsight, I believe I was James's savior too. He was heading down the tubes with his alcohol abuse in a really big way. Without one another to lean on, we both would have probably had shorter lives. James may deny this but he desperately needed some more responsibilities. I guarantee you, he got more than he bargained for with me. Another turning point in my life was when things weren't going along at a fast enough pace. I mean there was no substantial progress being made in finding a Doctor to help me. What I did next may really chill you to your bones. One day when I was very depressed over not getting any help, I tried to take my own penis off, what little there was left of it. It had shriveled up a great deal. Whoa, let me say something to you ladies. What would you do if you woke up one day and when you looked in the mirror, you saw all the normal male plumbing hanging there? You know your a female gender wise but thats the wrong equipment down there. It's awfully sensitive to being hit or mashed. What the heck would you do? Well ever since I can remember, that's the way I have felt. Right or wrong doesn't matter. That's the way it is with me. You can learn to live with it but you probably never will like it. One day when I just could not take it any longer, I made a devise to clamp around my penis. I designed it to cut the blood supply off. I figured I could whack it off and make it to the hospital without bleeding to death. I left this device on for several hours. When my penis turned good and black, I figured it was dead. The pain was becoming unbearable. I didn't have the guts to do the whacking I thought I could do. I was afraid of blood poisoning or maybe even worse. I went to my family Doctor when I got scared It might cause me to die. Doctor's are trained in all sorts of things but my Doctor, a surgeon, hadn't encountered that before. He just shook his head and said you must really be serious about wanting the surgery. Let me tell you now, If you are thinking about mutilating yourself, PLEASE DON'T. The operation requires that the penis be stripped, turned inside out and be used to line the new vagina. Hey, PLEASE DON'T MUTILATE yourself or something you would be sorry for later. Naturally, while I was there, I had to spill my guts again. The Doctor never knew I had a problem like that. Dr. Sutherfield asked me if I wanted him to do some research and try to get me some help. I said, as long as it's not the kind of help that is going to try to make me live happily there after as a male. All this was taking place in the March or April of 1966. Well, the Doctor called me at home in 3 or 4 days and gave me some names of Doctors at the Medical Center in Memphis. I Thank God for Dr. Sutherfield being there when I needed him. I made an appointment to see a Doctor that taught plastic surgery at U.T. in Memphis. I was accepted as a patient and advised I would, as part of a training procedure, be required to go to the Police department and have my finger prints processed. They had to be sure I wasn't wanted by the authorities. Also, I would have to go to a Therapist at the Medical Center. Naturally, I did everything they asked me to do. I really didn't look forward to going to the Police Dept. but I was assured all they would do is check me out and send the hospital a report. The Detectives were very nice to me and if they thought I was a real weirdo, they kept it to themselves. The first thing the new Doctors said I must do was to begin dressing and living my life as a female. It would be imperative to live my life for a full year as a woman. (Now days that's 2 years) Well, I explained to the Doctor, I had already been doing that for some time. James and I began living life as man and wife after we met. I then told the Doctor, I see no problem there. He said fine, I've decided to take you on as a teaching case. There will be no charge for the Doctors but I would be responsible for the hospital bills and have to work that out with The City of Memphis Hospital system. Once I made the decision to begin living my life as a female, I had to learn how to do it right. Getting dressed up in drag was one thing. Living from day to day and going out to get groceries plus all the other things people do in life was going to be a bit of a challenge. I started off slowly and went out mostly at night. As time went on, I acquired a completely female wardrobe. I already knew how to walk, cross my legs, put makeup on and all the other things I had practiced so many years in the privacy of my own home. Now it was all so real. It was becoming a way of life. I soon learned that being a full time female wasn't all fun and games. You do have to work at it. When I wake up, I look like heck. The long hair wasn't easy to take care of. Needing to put makeup on to go to the grocery store was a hassle at times. Did I really want to do this the rest of my life. You better believe it. For the most part, living as a woman came naturally to me. Being a passable some what attractive woman took time, a lot of time. I wasn't born with Eva Gabor's shape or looks. Obviously, I eventually had the surgery and become a legal female. Even after having all the electrolysis and hormone treatments, my skin was still pretty porous and masculine looking to me. Definitely not a soft look in the daylight. Thank goodness for makeup. Over the years, my skin has improved and become much more feminine looking. I seldom use makeup now. (just a small amount of face powder and some lipstick unless I'm going somewhere I need to be dressed up). I guess my biggest regret to date is that I wasn't born a real female. I didn't get to go to school as a girl and I can not have children. Otherwise, I'm a very happy person. I never have seriously considered myself to be a real woman but I can cope better this way and it's all legal. Its true, I'm not a real woman. I had my birth certificate changed and a legal name change. The authorities changed my social security number for me. The State of Tennessee gave me a new drivers license after I took another exam. The great State of Oklahoma changed my birth certificate to reflect my new legal name and sex after I sent them proof of my surgery and name change. Whoops, my brain got ahead of my typewriter. The operation. The City of Memphis was a thorn in my side. Just another sign of the times. Can you believe it, I had a group of Medical experts on my side saying I should have the surgery. The City seemed to be worried about the legal repercussions it may bring to the City. I was told it had nothing to do with my lack of money. I believe if I had been 5 feet 4 inches in height and looked much more feminine, then those in charge would have approved the surgery. I guess I will never know for sure. Now, I was getting disgusted with the system. What will I do? A student Doctor I got to know, Doctor Nat, was the one wanting to do my case as a teaching project. He began searching for another Doctor to help me. It was a few months later when my phone rang. It was Doctor Nat telling me that he found a Doctor that would do the surgery for me. I would be responsible for the Doctor and Hospital bills. He said everyone had all agreed to work it out with me. There was a small glitch. I would have to go to Johnson City, Tennessee, 600 miles from Memphis. That's where Doctor Sliva's medical practice was and the procedure would take place there. Can you believe it. After all the years I spent trying and trying again I would have the surgery in my own State of Tennessee. I just knew that something would interfere. I had very negative thoughts about it. I was very happy but extremely skeptical. I had to call the Doctor in Johnson City and make an appointment to set the date for my surgery. I thought about it for a couple of days. I wasn't sure I could handle it if something happened and they couldn't go through with the surgery. I discussed it with James to get his most up to date view. He said, I should go for it if I still wanted a sex change. He also said, he had fully accepted me as I was and the decision was completely up to me. What it came down to was the final decision would be mine. That was a good decision on James part. Although someone close should be asked what their thought's are, a final decision like that needs to be made by the patient. I was getting older and was about worn down now over the situation but I decided I would go for it. I called the Doctor at the other end of the State and he told me to be there and ready for the surgery on September 20, 1967. That was great news (I think). We lived from payday to payday like so many people did then. (Like people probably still do even in the 90's)The question was where was I going to get the money to ride the bus to Johnson city? I figured I would need at least $300.00 and a round trip bus ticket. Where would I get that kind of money in one lump sum? I had a credit card with a $200 limit and a few bucks in the bank. I drained the credit card with a cash advance and drained our checking account for the rest of the money. I wasn't sure it was enough but thats the best I could do short of robbing a bank which I wouldn't do. Its time to go to Johnson City. I wish James could take time off work to be with me but our income was small and we had no extra money. I had enough to buy a round trip Greyhound Bus ticket and gathered up an extra $300 in case I needed it. Doctor Sliva had told me the hospital would need a two hundred dollar deposit to admit me. I took my hospital insurance papers with me just in case. He, He, The insurance papers got me admitted. I also carried our checkbook for whatever good it would be. The balance was close to 0.00. Upon arriving, I found the Doctor's office was a short walk away from the hospital. Not knowing my way around, I got a taxi and found I was only a few minutes away from there. That's great, I would need a taxi to get me back to the bus station after the surgery. I was told I would have to go to a local Psychotherapist Doctor S. used before he would do the procedure. That turned out to be a mere formality. The records the City of Memphis had on my case were sent to Doctor S. so there were very few questions asked when I saw him. Mainly, are you sure? You do realize the procedure is pretty much un-reversible don't you? I tried not to appear to anxious but quickly said I am quite sure Doctor S. Lets do it. He replied with a smile and said O.K. and that he had already reserved the operating room for early the next day at the Johnson City Memorial Hospital. He also said that it would be a formality but I would need to go to another team Doctor friend of his, (Another Psychologist) and talk with him first but as far as he was concerned all looked well and that he didn't anticipate a problem. If all was well with the other Doctor, I was to check into the Hospital that same day and be ready for surgery early the next morning. It was looking good. I said Thanks to Doctor S. and was off to see the other Doctor who was only a short walk away. He and the Hospital were the only obstacles standing in the way now for surgery which would finally bring my body into position with my mind. My breathing was shallow and irregular and my heartbeat was fast as I made the walk to see the other Doctor. My thoughts were generally positive but I couldn't help think about what could go wrong now that I made it this far. Will this Doctor I never met go along with everyone else or try and stop the surgery? Will the hospital frown upon this type of elective surgery and say Sorry, no can do at this time? After all, in my mind, time for me was running out. Could I handle it if I got a negative answer? Looking back, I don't think I could have taken an answer of no. When I got to the Doctor's office, I was pleasantly surprised at the questions he asked me. They were straight forward and easy to answer. No trick questions. Hmmmmm, well maybe this guy really is wanting to help me. After 2 or 3 minutes, he said to me that he would advise Dr. Sliva all was well and he could proceed and I should check into the hospital right now. At that moment, I felt a pretty good size load lifted from my shoulders but I was still doubtful that all would go as planned. I left his office and checked into the hospital as Mrs J. Z. Smith without a hitch. No one made any off the wall comments to me. You see, this surgery was kept a big secret from all hospital employees. All except for Doctor Sliva, his support team and their nurses who apparently kept their mouths shut pretty well. Only one nurse on the morning of the operation asked any questions about the surgery. That was asked by a floor nurse and she wanted to know if I had ever had a period. When I said no, she said O.K., I just wondered. Apparently there was something that leaked out but not enough to tell anyone that I was about to have a SEX CHANGE OPERATION. I found out it takes several Doctor's to do the procedure. Besides Doctor S., there needed to be a Psychologist and a Urologist involved plus their nurses and a Anesthesiologist for sure. The next morning, a priest came in and did what priests do with a patients about to undergo major surgery. I was asked if my husband was there or not. I responded he was not there. He had to work to be able to afford the surgery I was about to receive. He said some prayers for me and left. It was very early, maybe 1 A.M. when I was awakened and given my third enema since the night before and told the Doctor wanted to be sure I was cleaned out. Boy, after about three enemas, if you aren't cleaned out there's no hope for getting you cleaned out. Whew, that was some experience. No breakfast either. I was so hungry but I knew it could make me very sick if I ate or drank anything. With all this going on, I felt like the process was really going to happen. I was about to have my privates cut off and a new piece of equipment installed. I would finally be able to legally live as the woman I felt I always was. There were absolutely no second thoughts about having this done to myself. It had to happen if I were to continue to live. It was early in the A.M. the morning the nurses gave me my happy shot and the attendants came in the room, placed me on the gurney and whisked me off to the operating room. The shot was very strong and I remember very little about being in the operating room. I do remember telling the Doctor to make sure and take it all off before I went to sleep. He smiled and said not to worry, that he would take care of it. That's really all I remember until I awoke in the recovery room. The first thing I remember doing was reaching down and feeling a lot of heat in the area where I used to have a penis etc. and feeling this huge bandage with a huge tube sticking out of me and a catheter tube running out of the area. About then, a nurse said to me, don't touch that area! I said is it done? She said yes and I should leave it alone for now or I could mess it up. At that time, I felt a relief like I never knew was possible. Not all my worldly problems were cured but that took care of a big bundle of them for me. The weight off my shoulders made me feel so good, it is impossible for me to describe. This was the first day of my new life after being reborn. I was dosed up on Demerol pretty heavily and did not experience any major pain like a guy would associate with having his private parts whacked off with a knife. Now I'm not saying there was no pain associated with this surgery, just not what I expected. Not only did I have my body mutilated but the Doctor had turned my penis inside out after stripping it of its insides and then he securely sewed it inside a deep incision made between where my penis and rectum was located. Then they placed a tube about 6 inches long and an inch or so in diameter inside the newly formed pouch to hold it against the inside of my body while it healed. I had to use that device full time for about 6 weeks then off and on for a couple of more months. I understand this device has been refined a lot since my surgery and is now soft, not a hard test tube with plaster on it as mine was. That device was very uncomfortable when it was inserted in me. When it came time for me to go back home, I had to have the catheter tube removed. I really dreaded that but it wasn't so bad. It stung a little bit when I had to pee from the raw area. In order to do that, I was told that the first time would be much easier if I would get in the bath tub and try peeing while warm water was running over the area that was made for me to pee from. Laugh if you like but it worked really well for me. Part of the healing process was taking a hot sits bath twice a day for 30 minutes each time. I have had absolutely no problem at all with any area that was operated on. It works like a charm. The Doctors did a really great job. I called James on about the second day and I told him all went well and that I would be coming home in a few more days. I found it difficult to believe I could ride a bus with the hard tube in me but it worked out pretty well. I was discharged about 10 days after I was admitted and I had to ride a Greyhound bus back to Memphis. That was a 600 mile ride and I was lucky that I got to lay down on two reclining bus seats on the trip back home. I was pretty much exhausted when I got home but held up pretty well otherwise. I had a small problem after I got home but a short 1 day trip to the hospital as a woman fixed me up. I was hooked on Demerol and they had to withdraw me from it. It was several months before I tried the new vagina out with James. It was pretty painful at first but in time things got better. That pretty well sums up the ordeal of my having had a Sex Change Operation in the 60's. The rest of this biography will deal mostly with my life after my Re-assignment surgery with a few after thoughts injected as I remember them and a Question and Answer session at the end. After I arrived at home, I wondered if James would really accept me now that I had taken such a drastic step as to have my privates cut off. He was a real trooper about it all. I know now that he was more concerned about what was going on in the hospital those two days before I called him than I thought he would be. He is a really great person and in retrospect I can see how much in the dark he was. I wanted him to be there and he wanted to be but it just didn't work out that way. Its been over 28 years now since I was re- born. We have never been wealthy although I seemed to be able to get a job with ease. At this time I choose to not to be working. Wealth can be measured in ways other than monetarily. Without good health, where would we be? James finally got to a point where he makes a pretty decent wage on a job he has had for 24 years. He's such a stable person. We both have pretty decent health and both of us are planning to live well past our retirement age. As far as the few health problems I do have are concerned, they would be best described as related to the re-assignment surgery and hormone therapy over 30 years. As many women do, I need a fluid pill for the swelling I get from the Estrogen Hormones and of course I will take the hormones the rest of my life. I have a weight problem too. At the time of surgery, I weighed about 158 lbs. I now weigh a bit over 200 lbs. I am a six footer and carry the weight better than a short person but am overweight by about 30 lbs. or so. In 1967 I was a heavy smoker (2-3 packs a day) but enjoyed living so much as a female, I quit smoking in 1969 (Kicked the nasty, dirty habit that is) and feel like that has improved my health immensely over the passing years. James quit too right after I did. As far as work goes, I began my woman hood about 6 months after my surgery by selling Popcorn and Peanuts in one of the large local Dixiemart Discount Dept Stores which went out of business long ago. While there, I got into security and worked as a store detective from about 1969-1981 before deciding to leave that profession. I also worked as a Courier driving in the Memphis area for 3 1/2 years. Since about 1988, I decided not to work any longer and worked out a deal with my spouse. He makes the money, I spend it. Grin . . Hobbies have taken a lot of my time. I became an Advanced Amateur Radio Operator in the middle 70's and took up computers as a hobby in 1981. I still enjoy the computer hobby but the radio hobby is just sort of hanging on in the back ground. I used the radio nonstop for about 10 years before I burned out. The problem with the radio is my deeper than a normal female voice. Although no one has confronted me about my voice, some radio operators want to say Sir instead of Mamm. I've lived with that for a long time. I can understand why they do. In person, my voice is no problem but over the radio or the telephone it can be confusing if you don't know me. My voice has become much higher over the years since my surgery. Another hobby is camping and has come to take a lot of my spring and fall time. I enjoy setting up our 29 Foot Fifth wheel camper a month or so at a time. I like roughing it (I take a Color T.V., V.C.R., Microwave, my computer and an 18 inch Satellite TV receiver) and really rough it. I set a goal of a 2 mile walk each day although I don't do the walk in bad weather. If you haven't figured it out already, I must tell you that if I had to do it all over again or I could skip the reassignment surgery, I absolutely, positively for sure would do it again. I have no regrets about that part of my life. If I could have been born a real female, that would have been much better. I was not so I am making the best of a bad situation which is more than I would have done without help form James, Doctor Sliva and the Surgery he and his team performed on me and many other Doctors including the Doctors who found me a Doctor to do the procedure on me. To them, all I know to say is that I Love you all. Thank you 1000 times over. Thanks for helping another human being. Questions and answers to follow Q: Why are you putting these questions and answers in here? A: I am trying to include any helpfull information I can and to also show you the type person I am. Q: Would you do it again? A: No doubt about it sweetheart. Yes, I would do it all over again and in a heartbeat if necessary. Q: Was the surgery really necessary? A: Yes, that was the only answer for me given the time frame and peer pressure although if society had ignored me and simply let me be myself, then maybe not. I guess I'll never know for sure. Q: Do any of your neighbors know about you? A: Not that I'm aware of. They may think I'm weird or think somethings different about me because I work on our cars & other things that need fixing around here sometimes. Answer: I dont think so. Q: Does the new Vagina work well? A: Sure it does, but at this time, it is no longer a new vagina & the warranty has also expired. Q: Can you tell by looking at your private parts that you are not a real female? A: A Doctor probably could. The surgery has been perfected a lot since I had mine. Now it is dependant on who does the surgery. As of 1996, by using the right Doctor, a new Reassignment patient probably would not be detected without medical tests or x-rays. Q: Have you noticed any discrimination toward you while living as a female as compared to what you received as a male? (What, you gotta be kidding) A: You bet. Mainly, the pay scale is lower for the females. Other forms of discrimination exist too such as promotions to upper level jobs. To much heat in this kitchen, then you best stay away & not try to get yourself placed here. Yes, Guys & Gals are treated differently. ONE EXAMPLE: Go to a Mechanic with your car. Grin, you'll find out. Q: Have you had any major run ins with the law since you were a teenager? A: No! I enjoy freedom to much for that nonsense. Q: How do you like housework now that you are a housewife? A: I hate housework but it goes with the territory. Q: Do people make fun of you since you are a large woman? A: Not really although I am a little bit paranoid & tend to think people talk behind my back about me on occasion. Maybe they do, maybe they don't. Q: Do you fit the mold of "A Normal Female" now? A: Everyone knows that I'm the only "Normal" person in the world. Every one else is a "Nut Case". Seriously, who determines just what "Normal"is? When comparing Humans to one another, we have our differences. Thank God for that. I believe I fit the mold now close enough to be considered a "Normal Female". An abdominal or pelvic X-ray would not be normal. I know I fit the Gal mold now better than the Guy mold I came from. Q: What do you think about the Gay's and Gender reassignment patients living in the 90's? A: I feel they have endured heart ache beyond most normal Heterosexuals comprehension. My love goes out to them as a group but I personally pick my personal friends using other criteria. What we have in common means more to me than what your sexual orientation is. Gay-Straight, who cares? Q: How would being found out by a friend or neighbor affect you? A: Although that may not be a desirable thing, it would not bother me. I've lived longer as a Female than I did as a Male. I am what I am. I can not change that. If a person shuts me out now, that's their loss, my gain. Q: Are you a vegetarian or what? A: I guess I'm a what. I like meat and potatoes. Q: What if you won the $10,000,000.00 lottery? A: You can't take it with you. I would spend it on a new Lincoln Town Car, a Corvette, a new Camper and an expensive new Home would top my list. Q: What do you think about the black race problems? A: They still have problems. If I were black, I would be fighting mad but you can't legislate a person to like another by their race or gender. To be liked, one needs to create a likeable atmosphere about themselves. Q: What do you think about the disease, AIDS? A: It's a terrible illness to acquire. For the most part, with few exceptions, AIDS can be prevented by practicing abstinence or safer sex. Quit swapping drug needles too. I hope that medical science will find a cure for AIDS. Until then, I say why should I risk having sex with unknown sexual partners. If you choose to ignore all of the warnings, then you have a larger problem than ever I had. Good luck! Q: What about the big Drug problem the world is now experiencing? A: I can only wish I had a sensible answer for that problem. That's just one more decline in peoples morals which began in the 60's. The Liberal's, anything goes philosophy, led up to where we are today. Give people an inch and they will take a mile. When the majority of society really does want to end this problem, it will be stopped by the majority in their voting booths. At this point in time, I don't see the people in power really wanting to end the problem. Until they all are voted out of office, I guess anything still goes. Morality cant be legislated. Morals must be taught at home by both, a Mother and a Father. Q: What are your thought's on crime? A: The criminals need to be dealt with in a manner that makes them not want to go back to jail. In some cases, I believe in capital punishment. As long as the lawyers are in charge of the system, we will probably always have problems. So many of them are money hungry and corrupt. Q: Has your life improved since you had the surgery? A: Absolutely, there probably would have been no life for me now without the surgery. Q: What about the legal aspects of this procedure. A: You must be aggressive enough to ask the State where your birth Certificate originated to upgrade it for you if they will. My state was Oklahoma and they seemed happy to work with me in changing my birth Certificate. It just took a bit of correspondence with them to get the job done. I received a certified copy of my new Birth Certificate. The cost was minimum. As far as my name goes, I petitioned the court for a legal name change here in Tennessee and the judge granted my request. That makes my Marriage Certificate and any other documents legal when you change them to your new name. My last name remained the same as any woman's maiden name would. I wrote the Social Security office and had my name changed with them. For my Tennessee drivers license, I just went to the Drivers license Bureau and got a new license from scratch rather than have them give me the old stare down like I was a big freak. Q: Why do you consider your self different from most of the other Transsexuals? A: I believe most Transsexuals do not work on a car. I'm a large framed and aggressive person with a very strong mechanical aptitude. I definitely was not a petite, cute, or feminine guy. The surgeons are great at what they do but there is a limit as to what they can do. You just work with what you have been given. I have no problem passing as the BITCHY OLD WOMAN I have become. Q: Do you think your life will be shortened because of the Re-assignment surgery. A: I have no way of knowing but I like to think not. I intend to live at the very least until I am the oldest living Re-assignment patient ever at 114 plus years of age. Q: Are you trying to become financially secure by writing this Biography? A: That would be nice, but the fact is, I've never been wealthy and I doubt this book will do it. Q: What is your motive for writing the Biography? A: It's two fold. First: It was great therapy for me. I don't ever want to forget where I came from. Second: I hope it may help someone else with this problem to see there is an answer to their problem. Q: Do you like having sex as a female? A: True answer - NO - but that's part of it. Q: Can you have a normal orgasm like a real female? A: Well, since I'm not a real female, I don't know what normal is for a female. I can have multiple dry orgasms more like that of a female that feel really great. I think that depends a lot on your sexual partner. Mine knows what to do to cause them. I tried and can not get satisfaction through self masturbation. Q: Are the female hormones really still necessary? A: Yes, in my case, I get depressed and bitchy if I don't take them most of the time. They also help me to have an orgasm. Q: Do you need Mama gram's like a real woman gets? A: Yes, when you take estrogen, the Doctor says to get one every couple of years. I am susceptible now to breast cancer like any other woman is. Q: Are your breast's a normal size? A: Yes, I had implants installed so they would be huge but had a rupture so had them removed. Now that I don't have implants, they are plenty large enough. Q: Can a deep voice be raised to sound more like a real female? A: You tell me. I don't know the proper medical person to ask. I believe it could be done by a Doctor that wants to do it but doubt you would find many Doctors that would want to do it. Q: Are you honest with your close friends now about having been a guy way back when? A: NO: I tried telling a couple of them way back when and it doesn't work. If you want to get rid of a so called "good friend", tell them. They probably won't be your "good friend" for long and that's a very sad commentary on people. Q: What do people say if/when they find out about your past life. A: They don't find out unless I tell them. It's sad but I don't see a need to give my life history to my friends and acquaintances anymore than a "normal" person does. The only 2 exceptions would be if I were dating or choosing a Doctor. I really think a person has the right to know of your past before you go on the first date. If they like you as an individual and you have been straight forward with them from the get go, then the relationship could possibly turn into something permanent. As far as the Doctor goes, your good health is at stake. You should not go to any Doctor that has a problem with your past life as another physical sex. Believe me, some Doctors are very ignorant and/or narrow minded about the subject of Transsexualism. When you compare our numbers to the population, there are few of us in circulation and we are physically different from the general population after the surgery. Q: What is the difference in Gender and Sex? A: Sex is what you are between your legs and Gender is what you are between your ears or in your mind. Q: So just what is a Transsexual? A: Transsexuals are people that are a physical sex which does not match their mental gender. They must also say they want a Sex Change to qualify. One would think that all we need to do is change their mental gender and the heck with a sex change operation. Sorry, that's a lot easier to say than to do. Try to Imagine someone trying to change the way you feel about your own gender. What if they tried to force you be the opposite gender of that which you feel you are. Well trying to change a Transsexuals gender is the same. It is easier to change their physical sex, as hard as that is to do, over changing their mental being or Gender. Q: Why does this mental abnormality exist in a Transsexual individual? A: I've heard several theories on the subject. The one I heard that makes the most sense to me is that during the first few weeks of pregnancy at a very crucial time, the fetus's brain is bathed in sex hormone's. For reasons unknown to me, these hormones help determine what your gender will be. It is said that during this time it is possible that to many or to few hormones could change ones way of thinking throughout their entire life. This is how our brain is programed and is why we feel like we are one gender or the other. Until people much smarter than I am can prove otherwise, that theory sounds good to me. I do not believe that the way you are raised will make you that way. Making a child wear the cloths of the opposite sex will not cause the child to want to be another sex any more than letting a boy play with dolls or a girl play with an erector set would. Kids do what comes naturally. It is society in general that has a problem with what they want to do or be. Q: What do you think of the world now compared to when you were a teenager. A: It's completely different. The bad side is that society's morals have really reached the bottom of the barrel. IE: Crime, rape, murder etc. The good side for people that like material things is if you can afford them, a lot of new things are here in abundance that were not here when I was young. I enjoy Computers, 18 Inch Satellite TV, Solid State Big Screen Color T.V., VCR's, Hot Water Spa's Etc., Etc. I didn't have these things while I was young so I didn't miss them. I sure would hate to live without these things now that I've been exposed to them. Q: What is your opinion on Morals in the 90's? A: What Morals? Q: What is your religion and/or thoughts on religion? A: I try to live my life by following the Ten Commandments. I believe that will get you through life as well as anything. I was Baptized at 9 years of age. As an adult, I do not pursue any particular religion. I can't see myself being a particular religion then killing those people that believe in a different religion than I do as so many people seem to do. Also, there are entirely too many Hypocrites in the world. My motto is as follows: Simply live by the 10 commandments and IBI - UBU Please do not impose your moral beliefs on me. I won't impose mine on you. The 10 C's will work. If there is a hereafter as many of us believe, I'm the one that will answer for my sins if it comes to it and that Includes having a Sex Change. If religion works for you, that's great! Whatever works is what you should go for as long as you don't dictate I live my life like you do. Q: Are you a Republican or Democrat? A: I was a Democrat when I was young. I have become a hard nosed Conservative Republican in my later years and consider myself somewhat of a Rush Limbaugh fan, I'M A DITTO HEAD. Q: Did you receive Breast Implants with your surgery? A: No, those didn't come until about 1984 and the cost was about $1500 for them. Since then, Dow Corning and others are in litigation over the many lawsuits they have pending over the ruptures that were happening. I had my Implants removed in or about the