I was born in Marblehead, Massachusetts on November 8, 1952 at 11:30am. My mother was Elizabeth M. Hansen, my father was Orin Westman Hansen. I was their first child, followed by Harold Paul in 1954 and Ruth in 1958. Here are my parents, just married and ready to drive to their honeymoon. I think they look really spiffy.
I went to Marblehead public schools up to 10th grade, when I entered
St. John's Prep in Danvers. There is a picture of my sixth-grade class
with the teacher, Mr. Munnelly, here.
Mr. Munnelly was the person who first told me that President
Kennedy had been assassinated. I was washing the blackboards on November 22, 1963
and he came into the classroom and gave me the news. I said, "You're joking!", but
unfortunately he wasn't.
St. John's was quite a change for a very shy, fat, studious
boy. I enjoyed it, and learned a lot there; it was enough to get into Columbia
University in 1970, majoring in Latin and Greek.
New York was quite an experience. I liked New York, while slacking off enough on my studies so that I got only a mediocre grade point average. So, the BA I got in 1974 was the last degree I've taken.
At the time, I thought I wanted to attend a Roman Catholic seminary in Boston, so I applied. However, after some lousy advice from a friend who was already there, I was rejected. This crushed me and my mother and my pastor. I then returned to New York and worked for the Columbia University Registrar's Office as a Transcript Clerk. Fairly boring, I fear, especially since the team ended up turning around transcript requests in less than 2 days. We had little to do.
I, on the other hand, was scheming to get into Dunwoodie, the New York seminary that my friend and Columbia classmate Jerry was attending. I did it, but only by concealing the fact that I had been rejected from the Boston seminary. This proved to have a damaging effect on my first year there.
When they found out, I was put under major scrutiny by the faculty and was nearly thrown out, even though I was the seminary sacristan. I was saved by my faculty advisor, the Rev. Jim Moore (to whom I am eternally grateful). I then entered upon determining my true vocation. At the beginning of the third year I finally understood that celibacy wasn't my thing, and left Dunwoodie. A picture of my seminary classmates is here.
I am the fifth from the left, with the Anglican collar. Seated is the then-Canon Law professor. Second from right is Dennis O'Keefe, who figures in the story a little bit later.
There are usually a few "turning points" in one's life that help to determine one's entire future. Leaving Dunwoodie I encountered the first of these. I was hired by the Harris Poll in Manhattan as a statistical typist. Up until then I had little or no experience or interest in market and opinion research. Working for Lou Harris helped me determine that, for at least the next 22 years or so, I'd be working for this sector, with the exception of 6 months in 1979, when I worked for Deloitte Haskins & Sells, the accounting firm, which was in the process of moving from 2 Broadway at Bowling Green to the 99th and 100th floors of the World Trade Centre. Fabbo view, awful work. I returned to Harris.
At the end of 2001, I began to get some fake flashbacks of being at work at Deloitte when the planes crashed into the World Trade Centre. These were scary, but they have receded as time has passed. I later learned that Deloitte had moved years before to another building in the complex and no one from the firm was hurt in the attack.
I then began to work for Thor Data, a so-called "tab house", at 22nd and Broadway. Tab houses took raw questionnaires and tabulated them into statistical tables, ready for the client. I learned a lot there, especially from Joe Marinelli, the vice president of the firm, whom I was to meet and work for and with several more times in the future.
Meanwhile, I was assessing my sexuality. This culminated in my first boyfriend, Tony from Philadelphia. We saw each other for about 7 years. However, it was an unequal relationship in many ways and we both, I think, felt threatened by this. It ended in 1986.
Work was changing, too. Thor Data was not managed very well, and it was in trouble starting in 1984. It has since become bankrupt. I left Thor then and went to work for CRC Information Systems, then on 34th St. in Manhattan. CRC was described to me as the "Cadillac of tab houses". For a while, it was that, with branches in Chicago and Connecticut, as well as a large staff, good products, and new premises in Greenwich Village (435 Hudson St.). I learned a new tab system, and also began a new portion of my career. Because a new staffer had fled at lunch after 2 weeks on the job, I was asked to write a manual for CRC's telemarketing system, TelAthena. I thus became a technical writer. After this manual, I wrote one for CRC's tabulation system, SPS.
CRC was having difficulties by this time. They had overextended themselves, and had become embroiled in a lawsuit over the stock price of a competitor that they were negotiating to buy. They had to begin laying off staff, and I was one of them.
I was unemployed for the first time in my life. Very traumatic it was, too. However, I was saved by two factors: my new religion and a work connection.
In February, 1988, I took a big step. After leaving Dunwoodie, I had become irreligious. I never went to church, and spent Sundays eating doughnuts, drinking coffee, and reading the Sunday Times. I had seen in the New York gay rags a small advertisement for Integrity, the Episcopal church's justice ministry for lesbians and gay men. They met at St. Luke-in-the-Fields church on Hudson street, two blocks north of where I worked. One Thursday evening, the night of their regular weekly Eucharist, I circled the block three times then plunged through the doors. I was met by Nick Dowen, the ever-gracious President of Integrity/New York, and my second "turning point" was reached. I became a regular attendee at Integrity eucharists, and then began attending the Church of the Holy Apostles on 9th Avenue and 28th Street in Manhattan, where I was received into the Episcopal Church on October 2, 1988.
The service itself was quintessentially High Anglican at its best, with the Rt. Rev. J. Stuart Wetmore, retired Suffragan Bishop of New York, presiding. Bishop Wetmore was a laryngectomee as a result of cancer, so whenever he presided at a service, he also used a throat microphone which connected into the church or hall's sound system. We were told by the Rector that we were to approach Bishop Wetmore when our names were called, to either be confirmed (for those who were unchurched or were not already confirmed), or be received. My name, as a result of fate, was the first on the "to be received" list.
Bishop Wetmore was, however, in the habit of receiving confirmands at his faldstool, but of walking down the steps to those whom he was to receive. The Rector wasn't sure of this, so he advised me to approach the Bishop when my name was called. So I did. However, Bishop Wetmore, his deep rumble amplified throughout the church, said, "Go back to your place!" I was highly embarrassed and, were I superstitious, might have made me return to the Romans. However, I wasn't and didn't. I have been an Anglican ever since.
At Holy Apostles I was for the most part very happy, and became Clerk of the Vestry as well as a lay reader. I became the spiritual directee of the Rev. Cathy Roskam, who is now the Suffragan Bishop of New York. During my time at Holy Apostles, Cathy and her husband decided to move to San Francisco, so they left Holy Apostles and, of course, I could not continue as her directee. At our last conference together, I said, "Cathy, you know, someday you'll have a mitre on your head." She pooh-poohed this, but later, at the reception after her consecration at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York, she told me: "You were the first person to see this day." I was modest about it all, as anyone who knew her could not have failed to have seen it. I was the only one confident and bold enough to articulate it.
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