RALPH EMERY REMEMBERS
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As a radio announcer on WSM in Nashville and the host of countless country music TV programs, Ralph Emery became the most famous on-air personality in that field. Like many celebrities with a large fan base, Emery produced an autobiography. The blunt account of his life includes a chapter from Emery's teen years.
Here is the undiluted, word for word story from pages 39 to 41 of Memories: The Autobiography of Ralph Emery about his time an a teenage usher during the late 1940s at the palatial Loew's movie theater in Nashville.
I developed another identification skill in that theater.
I had never heard the word "queer," except as it pertained to something odd or unusual. I certainly had no idea what its sexual connotations were.
Ushers at Loew's explained that I would have to watch out for the "behavior of queers." I asked them what they meant. They told me, and I thought they were making it up.
"Men being 'smootchy' with men?" I asked.
They told me that men would occasionally come inside and and sit in the dark and hold hands, and that was all I wanted to hear. I could have imagined the rest, but I didn't want to. I was sure I would never encounter anyone so unusual. But then I did begin to notice that sometimes, some of the men would escort other men as if they were a male and female couple. They held hands. One man in the couple would seem to be dominant toward the other. Sometimes they smiled at me strangely. Often, they reeked of sweet perfume. I was sure I was seeing my first queers, but I couldn't be sure.
But not for long.
One night, an effeminate man came up to me and smiled. He just stood there, grinning, looking at and through me simultaneously. I was too young to have ever seen the look of romantic love, but I knew this guy didn't look right.
"Do you want to have some fun?" he smiled.
"Do you want me to hit you between the eyes with this flashlight?" I responded.
I was told by my manager to occasionally patrol the men's room in the basement.
"Those queers like to hang out down there," he said.
And so I went, walking lightly down the carpeted stairs looking for men who were doing things that I was sure I wouldn't understand. An old man holding the hand of a young boy, and sly smiles, were about the most unusual things I encountered - until one night.
A man hid himself inside a restroom stall. With a pocket knife, he bored a hole in the wooden partition, enabling him to see into the adjacent stall. That's where I stood using the commode.
"P-s-s-s-t, p-s-s-s-t," I heard.
"Who's there?" I said, my voice an echo inside the cavernous men's room.
"Hey, kid," was the reply. "Stick that thing through here."
I saw the hole in the wall, and an eyeball in the hole. I discovered the source of the voice. I stopped urinating instantly and involuntarily. I had used a men's room at school thousands of times, with no thought about another male looking at me. But suddenly, I realized this stranger had been looking at me. I thought instantly about all the things the other ushers had been telling me about queers. I was furious.
I bolted from my stall, zipping up as I went through, and confronted the guy in his stall where he hadn't even attempted to zip up or put away anything. I began yelling excitedly, and the last I saw of him was his backside, speeding up the stairs three or four flights at once while struggling madly with his fly. I rounded the corner into the theater lobby, but he was out the door and gone. I came to a halt and scanned the foyer, looking for the back of his head. Suddenly, I noticed that everyone I looked at was already looking at me.
I just knew they knew what happened, and of course, they didn't. But my embarrassment was overwhelming. The nest day, I had someone repair the hole in the men's room partition.
So what lessons can be learned from 65 years ago? Even in the southern "Bible belt" where such perversion was considered to be the ultimate in depravity, sodomites were more than willing to peep on unsuspecting men and proposition teens (pedophilia) to satisfy their depraved lusts. Despite some efforts to conceal their preference for men, the perverted desires of the "queers" encountered by Emery and his fellow ushers weren't too difficult to discern.
Fast forward to 2012. What the homosexuals of 1947 did and promoted is quite tame compared to what takes place in the sodomite ranks today. Could anyone living back then have imagined a group such as NAMBLA (the North American Man-Boy Love Association) promoting its hellish agenda openly without fear of arrest? Even a worldly New Yorker wouldn't have predicted that homos would march naked or barely clad in leather down the streets of San Francisco and other cities during so-called "Gay Pride" rallies.
Most disturbing of all, depravity and perversion is more than passively approved by government at all levels. Much of the pro-homosexual propaganda is subsidized by tax dollars, especially in public schools. Those who stand against Satan's agenda often find themselves at odds with a corrupt "justice" system. It's a good thing Emery threatened to clobber a leering sodomjte with a metal flashlight in the 1940s, as such a proper reaction today could mean being charged with a trumped-up "hate crime".
So who are the real haters? Sodomites and their useful idiot (see Lenin's quote about that term) hetero allies hate decency, true love, honesty and the omnipotent God of the Bible. From the days of Sodom to the 21st century, the homosexual agenda has been a non-stop orgy of wickedness. - A.D.
*
As a radio announcer on WSM in Nashville and the host of countless country music TV programs, Ralph Emery became the most famous on-air personality in that field. Like many celebrities with a large fan base, Emery produced an autobiography. The blunt account of his life includes a chapter from Emery's teen years.
Here is the undiluted, word for word story from pages 39 to 41 of Memories: The Autobiography of Ralph Emery about his time an a teenage usher during the late 1940s at the palatial Loew's movie theater in Nashville.
I developed another identification skill in that theater.
I had never heard the word "queer," except as it pertained to something odd or unusual. I certainly had no idea what its sexual connotations were.
Ushers at Loew's explained that I would have to watch out for the "behavior of queers." I asked them what they meant. They told me, and I thought they were making it up.
"Men being 'smootchy' with men?" I asked.
They told me that men would occasionally come inside and and sit in the dark and hold hands, and that was all I wanted to hear. I could have imagined the rest, but I didn't want to. I was sure I would never encounter anyone so unusual. But then I did begin to notice that sometimes, some of the men would escort other men as if they were a male and female couple. They held hands. One man in the couple would seem to be dominant toward the other. Sometimes they smiled at me strangely. Often, they reeked of sweet perfume. I was sure I was seeing my first queers, but I couldn't be sure.
But not for long.
One night, an effeminate man came up to me and smiled. He just stood there, grinning, looking at and through me simultaneously. I was too young to have ever seen the look of romantic love, but I knew this guy didn't look right.
"Do you want to have some fun?" he smiled.
"Do you want me to hit you between the eyes with this flashlight?" I responded.
I was told by my manager to occasionally patrol the men's room in the basement.
"Those queers like to hang out down there," he said.
And so I went, walking lightly down the carpeted stairs looking for men who were doing things that I was sure I wouldn't understand. An old man holding the hand of a young boy, and sly smiles, were about the most unusual things I encountered - until one night.
A man hid himself inside a restroom stall. With a pocket knife, he bored a hole in the wooden partition, enabling him to see into the adjacent stall. That's where I stood using the commode.
"P-s-s-s-t, p-s-s-s-t," I heard.
"Who's there?" I said, my voice an echo inside the cavernous men's room.
"Hey, kid," was the reply. "Stick that thing through here."
I saw the hole in the wall, and an eyeball in the hole. I discovered the source of the voice. I stopped urinating instantly and involuntarily. I had used a men's room at school thousands of times, with no thought about another male looking at me. But suddenly, I realized this stranger had been looking at me. I thought instantly about all the things the other ushers had been telling me about queers. I was furious.
I bolted from my stall, zipping up as I went through, and confronted the guy in his stall where he hadn't even attempted to zip up or put away anything. I began yelling excitedly, and the last I saw of him was his backside, speeding up the stairs three or four flights at once while struggling madly with his fly. I rounded the corner into the theater lobby, but he was out the door and gone. I came to a halt and scanned the foyer, looking for the back of his head. Suddenly, I noticed that everyone I looked at was already looking at me.
I just knew they knew what happened, and of course, they didn't. But my embarrassment was overwhelming. The nest day, I had someone repair the hole in the men's room partition.
So what lessons can be learned from 65 years ago? Even in the southern "Bible belt" where such perversion was considered to be the ultimate in depravity, sodomites were more than willing to peep on unsuspecting men and proposition teens (pedophilia) to satisfy their depraved lusts. Despite some efforts to conceal their preference for men, the perverted desires of the "queers" encountered by Emery and his fellow ushers weren't too difficult to discern.
Fast forward to 2012. What the homosexuals of 1947 did and promoted is quite tame compared to what takes place in the sodomite ranks today. Could anyone living back then have imagined a group such as NAMBLA (the North American Man-Boy Love Association) promoting its hellish agenda openly without fear of arrest? Even a worldly New Yorker wouldn't have predicted that homos would march naked or barely clad in leather down the streets of San Francisco and other cities during so-called "Gay Pride" rallies.
Most disturbing of all, depravity and perversion is more than passively approved by government at all levels. Much of the pro-homosexual propaganda is subsidized by tax dollars, especially in public schools. Those who stand against Satan's agenda often find themselves at odds with a corrupt "justice" system. It's a good thing Emery threatened to clobber a leering sodomjte with a metal flashlight in the 1940s, as such a proper reaction today could mean being charged with a trumped-up "hate crime".
So who are the real haters? Sodomites and their useful idiot (see Lenin's quote about that term) hetero allies hate decency, true love, honesty and the omnipotent God of the Bible. From the days of Sodom to the 21st century, the homosexual agenda has been a non-stop orgy of wickedness. - A.D.
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