On the Leap into Publishing
So I relegated theatre design to the status of Avocation and accepted a job as an editor and book designer with Gibbs Smith, Publisher. For ten years I was tutored by Gibbs and given many growth opportunities. We published important books on art, architecture, literature, and Western art and culture. It was a wonderful decade, and I could have stayed forever. But I took an offer to be Manager of The Preservation Press, the book publishing company then owned by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. There I led the effort to acquire, publish, and market important books about our country's history, architecture, and culture. Several exciting and fulfilling years later, the National Trust sold the Preservation Press to Wiley & Sons, a large publisher in New York City, and we were out looking for jobs. Although I loved working in the book publishing world, I could see that the days of small independent publishers and bookstores were numbered. It was time, again, to move on and reinvent myself.

On Being Gay
I did not realize I was gay when I got married to my wife, but after several years together, and with a talented and charming teenage daughter, the awareness crept up on me. Determined to "keep my life in order," In the tradition of my faith, I fasted more, studied and prayed harder, overachieved in Church callings, and slaved to be the best husband and father I possibly could.

But being gay could not be prayed away. My faith grew and I felt closer to God, but I was still gay. I sought ecclesiastical counseling, therapy, and worked even harder. The bishops told me to try to control my thoughts. The therapists scratched their heads and wondered why anyone would want to change their sexual orientation—a task psychologists believe to be a dead end. One by one they pronounced me a well-adjusted, depressed gay man. I worked harder and became more torn apart having to live double emotional and spiritual lives. I no longer felt capable of adequately filling any of the roles that mattered to me.

As part of my quest, I signed on to Q-Saints, sponsored by Affirmation: Gay and Lesbian Mormons. I attended retreats with Gamofites: Gay Mormon Fathers.  I joined the Gay and Lesbian Information Bureau (GLIB), a local DC gay-oriented electronic bulletin board that had a special support section for gay married men. I came to realize I was not alone and could find safe places in which to grow.

On Finding Mike
It was on GLIB that I met my future husband, Mike. He had lost his partner to cancer seven years earlier and had since briefly dated a man who had been married. Mike wanted to understand that dynamic, so he looked to the married men's support section for some answers. When I posted a message on GLIB that I was about to come out to my family, Mike wrote to me to show his support for my efforts to keep my family together. We became close correspondents. He helped keep me calm during my coming out to my family, reminding me that things would indeed be okay. He reminded me that marriage is a partnership and encouraged me to work together with my wife to decide where we were headed. Mike and I met briefly for the first time some months later, when I thanked him for his good words. He was selling his condo in Washington, DC, to move to Los Angeles for a new job. My wife and I were still trying to figure out our family.

After Mike moved to Los Angeles, we continued corresponding. His new job did not materialize as planned and it became my turn to be supportive and encouraging. He shared his hopes and employment frustrations with me and I shared the pain of the steps my wife and I were taking to separate. He gave me advice on apartment hunting in Washington, where he had lived for many years. I gave him some job-hunting contacts and ideas in Los Angeles, where I had grown up.

I found an apartment and moved. After five months on the West Coast, Mike realized that Los Angeles was not his real home. His friends urged him to return to DC, and one even sent him a plane ticket. He moved back to the DC area, where he lived in a friend's basement in Virginia for three months while he looked for a new job. We started dating and formed our partnership in late 1997.

On Getting Married
After some provinces of Canada legalized same-sex marriage we finally had a chance at marriage equality! We plowed through the paperwork, traveled to Toronto, and were married in Toronto City Hall on August 27, 2004. Mike's parents traveled from Florida and stood as witnesses. A few friends also attended, one of whom flew from Houston to celebrate with us. My daughter and her husband flew to DC to attend the reception several weeks later, joined by more than fifty other family members, friends, and coworkers.

On Our Families
My daughter and her husband are wonderful and supportive. They were married in the Washington DC Temple in April 2004. His family is energetic and kind and tolerant and we feel privileged to be related to them. My daughter graduated from BYU, where her husband deftly juggles school and work with a level of energy that exhausts me when I think about it too much. They are now wonderful parents of the family's two grandchildren. Mike and I try to be indulgent grandfathers to our precious granddaughter and grandson. They all live near my former wife, and visit her at least weekly. I am also still in close contact with my former wife, whom I admire for her strength, tenacity, courage, and sense of humor.

Mike's parents are loving and they don't even mind that he didn't marry a nice Jewish doctor! Mike's three sisters and their families have been equally supportive. We are Uncle Buck and Uncle Mike to the niece and nephews. They send us birthday and anniversary cards and we talk to them at least weekly.

My devout Mormon mother and some siblings had a more difficult time with my coming out. They all made it clear from the beginning that I was loved and safe, even though they didn't fully understand. They are all fine people with wonderful families. Mike attends our family reunions and participates in all our activities. Some of my younger nieces and nephews have known Mike as a member of the family for most of their lives.

Our extended family of friends is even larger. I feel very blessed.

On Looking Ahead
If I have learned anything, it is the unpredictability of the future. I am certainly not in the place I envisioned 30 or 40 years ago, but as I review my life so far I can identify some things I have learned.

First, I appreciate our families more and recognize how essential it is to do more for them and spend more time with them. Mike and I have tried to step up our contact and support as much as our resources allow—actually, more than our resources allow. We would do most anything for our families.

Second, I realize how much I undervalued my friends while I was growing up, perhaps afraid to get too close to them for fear I would disappoint them. But friends have rallied around my family and me and proved their worth many times over. I no longer fear close friendships. Instead, I try to reach out to friends and our community.

My greatest discovery has been the joy that comes with being more open and honest. I had to reach very deep to win that battle. Now I am more at peace with my Mormon heritage and more able to celebrate My People and their central role in shaping my spirituality, my sense of responsibility, and my moral compass.

My determination to keep my spirituality and my Mormon heritage central to my life has occasionally been misunderstood. Some people have questioned my motives and sincerity, wondering why I bother to struggle for my convictions. As a Mormon, I became accustomed decades ago to experiencing prejudice. It is harder when some of my fellow Mormons demonstrate the least amount of tolerance and the most blatant examples of narrow-mindedness. Still, I cannot be sidetracked so easily. It is my religion and heritage and I guard it jealously.