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years from the environment he left more than 20
years before. :

Franklyn was 39, “nudging forty,” as he put it.
But he certainly didn’t look his age. Only partly
responsible were his rare, good looks. His bouncy,
irrepressible personality was the factor most respon-
sible for creating the illusion of a man in his late
20’s.

When we sat in Franklyn’s living room over a
couple of drinks, he said, “You’re not going to make
a case history of me, are you?”

“No, that’s not my line. I want impressions,
straight facts. I leave the mumbo jumbo to the head
shrinkers.”’

“That’s just the way I feel about it. I go along
with the gag that anyone who needs a psychiatrist
ought to have his head examined.” ,

After a few idle pleasantries we got down to busi-
ness. Franklyn was a Negro homosexual and, when
approached through friends, he agreed to tell me his
views on how the Negro reacts to homosexuality
and how he fits into its society at large. I have used
his own words throughout since they are far more
expressive than mine might be.

“Let me begin by saying that being queer hasn’t
exactly been a bed of roses. It’s caused me lots of