Cravero
Alright. Let’s see. This is Geoffrey Cravero, and I’m conducting an oral history with Richard Lamberty of the Orlando Gay Chorus. The interview is being conducted in the conference room of the Center fo—of—Center for [laughs] Humanities and Digital Research at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, Florida, on Tuesday, October 11th, 2016 [clears throat].
Lamberty
Which, by the way, happens to be National Coming Out Day.
Cravero
National Coming Out Day. I saw the s—I saw the sign earlier. Excellent, good timing. So, uh, Mr. Lamberty, thank you for speaking with us today. If you would, let’s start by having you state your name and telling us a little about where you’re from.
Lamberty
Richard Lamberty. L-A-M-B—as in boy—E-R-T-Y. Um, I was born in Chicago, Illinois, and we moved to Orlando when I was five. Um, we stayed here until I was 16, and then we briefly moved to Maryland, where I graduated high school, and then I came back to Orlando and attended Rollins [College], um, and then after Rollins, I actually came to UCF[1] for almost two years, during which time I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and they put me on a medication. Um, one of the side effects of that medication was I lost the ability to read, write, and speak, and so I was unable to complete my graduate degree at that time, um—ended[sic] up moving to New Mexico, where my parents had gone, and enrolled in the university out there to, uh, work in their computer science artificial intelligence department, which by the time I got there, was gone, and so there was not a single person left on campus that even knew that I existed, and there was no one to help me with paperwork or any of the transfers of credit or anything. It was start over.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
[laughs] Um, continued to work on the degree out there, but got hired to work on a NASA[2] project that I did for five years, and then moved to California, where I stayed for another 18 years, before coming back to Orlando in 2005, um, basically, to be closer to family, and so I have lived here in Orlando ever since.
Um, I started dancing—you were ask—gonna ask about the dancing thing—I started dancing when I was 10 years old, and I danced first with the Orlando Cloggers, which was a—a youth, square-dance clogging group that was sponsored by the City of Orlando, and from that I got involved in what’s called “round dancing,” which is kind of a hybrid between square dancing and ballroom dancing—ballroom dances and figures, but it’s cued in the same way that a square dance is called, and then directly involved in ballroom from that, and, uh—but because of the arthritis issues then it was like, This is not gonna be what I do with my life. I have to have something else to do, but as long as I’m able I can dance, and I’ve continued to do so for most of my life, um, and that’s taken me all over the world. In fact, I just got back from two weeks in Europe, where I was teaching for the 22nd year that I’ve been over there teaching at this event in Germany.
Lamberty
Um, you know, life in Orlando—mostly what my life about[sic] here is I’m taking care of my elderly mother. I am her primary caretaker, and, um, and then I do what work is available to me, in addition to that, and, you know, in my field if it can be, so designing software, computer systems and things, or doing people’s websites and such, but, um, mostly my life is about dealing with family, taking care of family.
Cravero
And, uh, what d—what did your family do? It was your—did your mother work? Or…
Lamberty
Uh, my father was an electrical engineer. Um, he had seven children. I’m the fifth of seven, and, uh, so my mother was basically a stay-at-home mom for a lot that, and then didn’t start really working until I was about 16, um, in Maryland, and then…
[phone rings]
Lamberty
Go away.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
And don’t do that again.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
I’ll make that stop.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
I should’ve thought of that first.
Cravero
Oh, that’s alright.
Lamberty
The only person who can make my phone ring now is my mother.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
[laughs]. Okay, um, my father was an electrical engineer. He did a wide variety of things for Swift[?] Martin Marietta [Corporation]. Well, actually, in Chicago, we moved down here for a job at Martin—which was before it was Lockheed Martin—and then, um, up to Maryland. Hated it. Cold weather. Not a[sic] interesting job for him. Came back to Florida at Harris Corporation, where they got involved with the satellite project, um, and then eventually ended up with TRW [Inc.] Space and Defense and retired from them. Um, I worked with TRW Space and Defense—was my first real job in my industry, and then, um, that—on the same project as my father, which was an extraordinary privilege. My father was brilliant and exceedingly humble, um, but just this brilliant man, and I had the privilege of spending five years working with him, and just, you know, being around that mind every day and seeing how he viewed the world, which was fascinating because growing up I didn’t experience my parents quite that way. Um, I grew up in a household where debate was the normal form of communication [laughs].
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
You know, and I never knew what my parents thought about anything, because if one of ‘em would say something, the other one’d automatically take the opposite position, and so what did, you know—what did either of them actually believe about the world was almost impossible for me to determine, and, um, you know, in that time period, I actually got to learn about my father, and one of the things that I learned was that he wasn’t ashamed of me, because growing up, he never spoke to me, um, and I—I didn’t know why. It turned out he didn’t speak to me because he was partially deaf and he couldn’t hear me. So when my voice really changed then he could hear me, you know? Alone—the two of us, then he could hear me, and I walked into—he worked in a trailer in the desert, and I walked into his office one day for some reason, and on the wall was a framed poster of a dance exhibition that I had done when I was at Rollins, and I went home and I said to my mother, “Did you know that Dad has the poster from Rollins on the wall in—office?” And she said, “Oh, yes. Your father’s very proud of you,” and up until that very moment, what I had assumed was that he was embarrassed about me because I was a dancer and, you know, not like his other sons, and that really—that wasn’t true. So, you know, that was just—it was remarkable, and, you know, in an era where being gay was not okay, you know, having the security clearance and being gay was not okay, um, it was a very hard thing to do, um, and, you know, my parents were very Catholic. Uh, you know, like “know the pope” kind of Catholic. Um, there’s a photograph of my mother with John Paul II—just the two of them. You know, so it was a, you know—that was not okay.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
And yet, there this poster was. It was an incredible experience.
Um, but no. When I came back to Orlando, I continued to dance, and I had gotten involved with same-sex ballroom dancing. Uh, you know, two men dancing together, two women dancing together—which again, two women dancing together has always been socially acceptable; two men dancing together has not, and so, um—and I had a partner here in Orlando. We trained, we worked hard, we eventually won world titles together, and then he quit, and I didn’t have anything to do, so I had heard the [Orlando Gay] Chorus sing, and I thought, I can try this. I don’t sing, but I can try this, you know? I was in chorus in seventh and eighth grade, but, um, I didn’t get a good grade, and when I asked the teacher why she told me I didn’t have a good voice, and so I quit singing, and I never sang again. I mean I wouldn’t sing “Happy Birthday” to people for 35 years. So I joined the chorus and then, you know, started singing with them, and it was fun. It was—I didn’t have to be good. There were [laughs] zero expectations that I actually be good at anything. Not like work, not like dancing, you know—just show up, sing, gave a good time, and, you know, as it happens, apparently, I’ve gotten to the point where I’m okay as a singer, and, you know, had the—the privilege of being a part of the chorus now for six years, and it’s really—it is—it’s a lot of fun. Wonderful thing.
Cravero
That’s fantastic. Um, so, uh, can you tell us a little more about how you got involved in, uh, ballroom and Latin dancing? Um, what sort of work, uh, did you do as a board member on the—I saw that you did…
Lamberty
Oh.
Cravero
The North American Same-Sex Partner Dance Association [NASSPDA]…
Lamberty
You Googled me.
Cravero
I Googled.
Lamberty
Yes.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
Okay, my parents were square dancers. They had taken a square dance class here in Orlando, and they had what was called “hoedown,” which was in the parking lot of the, uh, um, uh, Colonial Plaza Mall in where—what now would be the—I guess the Walgreens or the CVS is in that corner—that was parking. They put up a tent one day and they just had the square dance callers with a whole bunch of people, and people were dancing in the parking lot [door closes], and I saw the Orlando Cloggers perform, and that’s what I wanted to do. I wasn’t quite old enough yet. You had to be 10 and I wasn’t 10 yet, and so as soon as I turned 10, then I could start the classes, and it was amazing. It was run by the city. It was $5 per family for the season—not $5 a week, not $5 a person. It was $5 for the entire thing—for three of us to go and take the classes, and I loved it. I thought it was awesome. I loved the dancing, so, you know, I learned to clog, I learned to square dance, and then I learned the round dancing, which was like ballroom, and, um, we moved to Maryland when I was in high school, and I can dance, and I got a job at an independent ballroom dancing studio as a dance teacher at the age of 16. I—and this is 1975—’75 —’76 —and I was making $16 an hour, which is basically still what a—a beginning dance instructor makes—same—same thing—but I was making $16 an hour teaching dance lessons, and I think the minimum wage was $2.85 [laughs]. So it’s like, Woo hoo. I had money. It’s like I’m 16 years old, I’ve got this job that I can—that I love, and I have money. It was amazing and—and I loved the dancing.
Um, when I developed [rheumatoid] arthritis and—you know, what they told me was I’d never walk again. I was 100 percent disabled, and that was while I was here at UCF. You know, the campus was not that big, as it is now, but I couldn’t walk across campus, and the medication had this profound effect on me. I—I couldn’t communicate, um, you know, I couldn’t write coherently, I couldn’t make sense of what I was reading, and I couldn’t—I could not talk intelligently, um, and fortunately, there was a professor here in the Computer Science Department who understood what was going on, and she advised me to, you know, get the medical records brought in and have my record expunged and sealed so that all of that failing grade stuff that showed up, because of that, would not show up on my transcript ever, and without that I would have simply just failed, uh, graduate school, and probably never been able to get back in, um, and then, you know, got enough better that I could move and get back into school and get a job that was, uh—that I loved, um, and tried to dance, you know, as best I could, and it wasn’t always easy physically.
I was—I was allergic to the non-steroidal anti-inflammatories, and so any of them that I would take would cause some kind of a very unpleasant neurological side effect, so it was just better to be in pain. So basically, for 30 years—so I just lived in pain, and didn’t tell anybody. You didn’t talk about it. Um, you know, if it was a bad day, you just tried to dance with your partner not touching actually, you know? It’s like you’re s—and don’t say. Don’t s—never tell anybody why you can’t do anything, you know? Um, yeah, it was really horrible, um, pretending, you know—pretending about a lot of things—pretending about being okay, pretending about not being gay, pretending about, you know, that my brain was working normally when it wasn’t. Basically, life was a whole lot about pretending a lot of things, and very painful—physically, psychologically, emotionally painful experience to live that way all the time.
But, yeah, I got, you know—I danced as much as I could, and slowly, slowly over time. Basically, most dancers peak in their late 20s or early 30. It’s like, Mm, yeah. Not until I was in my late-40s, [laughs] you know, and, um, you know, d—did what teaching I could over the years. I mean, I’ve been traveling to Europe for over 20 years and teaching there, um, uh, various places around the United States, Canada, Japan. Uh, we did—a couple years ago, we did a three week tour in Japan—six different teaching events while we were there. It was just amazing—which in and of itself was fascinating because, you know, there’s a large community of dancers in Japan, and they knew of me and they—they would—when they would come to the United States, there[sic] was[sic] always be at the events that I was at, um, and they brought people over all the time to teach, and I asked—was a big, big international convention that I was teaching at—there was a huge group of Japanese there, and I got invited to the room party with the Japanese—was the only white person at this party, and, um, so I asked, you know—it’s like, you know, “When will I get invited to Japan?” And this—there was this discussion. This rapid discussion in Japanese, and the woman who spoke English best took me into the—the bathroom in the connected hotel rooms and closed the door and said to me, “We cannot invite you.” I was like, “Well, why?” And she goes, “Because whoever invites you would have to accept your shame.” I was like, “Oh.”
So when I got contacted a couple years ago about coming over, there was an American woman living in Japan—I didn’t know her history, but she was an American woman living in Japan with the dancing—and so I wrote to her and said, “I’d love to come, but, you know, you need to know,” and she said to me, you know, “It’s not how it is now.” Things changed. Things changed because finally, the Japanese government had to acknowledge that there were people in Japan dying of AIDS,[3] and so everything changed when they acknowledged that—that these are Japanese people; therefore, they’re Japanese, and the laws changed, and the way that people behaved changed, and now it was just not a problem, and this was like, you know, social change on this huge scale in a couple of years, you know? Things that we have been fighting for in this country for 20 or 30 years and still don’t have—that they could achieve because, as a society, it’s more important that you’re Japanese than it is that you’re gay, you know? So she arranged this trip, we went, we had this amazing time, and it didn’t matter at all, you know? It didn’t matter at all. It matters more here than it does there. Um, you know, I mean I’m—and I still—I love dancing. Although at this point, I’m probably done. I don’t have a partner anymore.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
And if I can’t dance on a regular basis then I lose the ability to dance, which anybody would. Any skill that you’ve developed, if you don’t use it, you lose it. It’s, you know—especially physical skills, but in my case, it’s not just that. Dancing’s what’s kept me well. Um, if I don’t move, I can’t move, and I’ve tried other things. I’ve, you know, gone to gyms, I’ve done swimming, I’ve done all kinds of things. The only thing that’s been really effective is the dancing that I do, and so basically, you know, 47 years of dancing and I don’t have a partner. If I don’t have a partner, I can’t dance. If I can’t dance, I don’t know how long it is that I can walk. That’s the equation. I mean, you know, we talked—I—walking over here from the parking garage was an ordeal, and that’s been, you know—it’s four—four months that I haven’t danced regularly. Going to Germany and having to dance all day, every day, you know? It’s like the first day was just horrible, and after that it was like, Oh, dancing. My body is happy.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
“It’s fine.” Yeah, so I get distracted easily. It’s okay [laughs].
Cravero
Oh [laughs].
Lamberty
[laughs] I’m chatty.
Lamberty
Oh, you were—asked about NASSPDA.[4] That was not the first.
Cravero
Mmhmm.
Lamberty
Um, the first organization kind of disappeared. It[?] was the United States same-sex dance, uh, organization that I was one of the founders of. I was also a—a—an honorary founding member of the European same-sex dance organization,[5] and then, at the same time that those two were formed, there was a world organization that was formed that I was on the committee that help form it, write the bylaws, was an officer of, and then there was a dispute about, you know: was that the right way to do this? Did it happen too fast? All that. So that organization shut down. The North American one disappeared, and a couple years later, the, um—or the U.S. one disappeared. Then the—they decided to do—try again, and we created the North American Same-Sex Partner Dance Association—NASSPDA—and I was, again, one of the founders, uh—original co—co-president with a woman, um, Barbara Zoloth, was one—one of my students for many years, and, um, you know, then—actually, I was the first honorary member of the organization when I went off the board. They voted me in, and, uh, you know—so I—I’ve been involved in the history of same-sex dancing in the United States since essentially its beginning.
Um, I ran the first, uh—well, not the first. The first same-sex dance competition was a long time ago in New York—the first one we know of—but it was a one-time thing, and then nothing happened for years and years, but I put one together with, uh, my partner that[sic] I went to the Gay Games in 1998 with—Tom Slater—and a woman—a straight woman that[sic] was helping us—Ava Kaye—and, um, then the three of us decided this was important, and we put together, um, it was—I think it was “March Madness”—might have been the first one. It was either “March Madness” or “April Follies,” and then, the next one, you know—we did series of them that—that I ran with the two of them for many years, starting around 2000—2001—and then, when I moved away, I ran the next year remotely, you know, went back for it, but it was too much. So I turned it over to this organization—a non-profit in the [San Francisco] Bay area that has run it ever since, and so it’s the longest-running same-sex, uh, dance competition in North America, and longer than many of the ones in Europe, um, and, uh, so there’s the—you know, very small community of people involved in that in this country. We don’t have a history of partner dancing in this country in the way they do in Europe and other places in the world, but there are people that are[sic] really love it. It’s this wonderful thing to do. It’s social, it’s engaging, it challenges the mind and the body, um, it’s great exercise in a gentle way, um, and it’s fun. It’s just a tremendous amount of fun.
Um, competing in the same-sex world is so different than the mainstream world. The mainstream world is very cutthroat, and the same-sex world is, you know, the—the—the people who’ve been to mainstream competition that come to one of the same-sex events is like, “What? It’s like, “You s—you act like you like each other. You know, this isn’t like a competition. It’s like a party. It’s a celebration,” and that’s exactly what it feels like. We are celebrating something that we can’t have. I mean there were rules against same-sex couples competing, uh, in regular competitions. Some of that has changed now, but there were rules against it. You weren’t allowed, you know, a—and it’s not just that you, you know, could if you wanted to. Y—you weren’t allowed, and while I wasn’t directly involved in a lot of the politics in the mainstream world to do that, um, I was behind the people who were, you know? I wasn’t—they hated me in the mainstream world of ballroom dancing from day one because I was an out[-of-the-closet] gay man doing ballroom dancing, and there were none. It was like, “Y—you can’t do that.” I got told when I was trying to compete as an amateur, and then as a professional, “Sh—y—you can’t be ‘out.’ You ca—you have to stop talking about this. You can’t bring a boyfriend.” I was like, “Yeah. No, I don’t—I y—I don’t need you to dance. I don’t do this for a living. You can’t make me,” and so—oh, they did not like me [laughs]. I mean I—when I was still trying to be an amateur, there were actually lawsuits filed against me. Try to keep me from dancing—trying to, you know, declare me “not an amateur.” I was—I had a sports lawyer. It was—I mean, I f—finally quit. I was spending about $5,000 a year defending my amateur status with the lawyer. It was like, This is ridiculous. This thing’s already so expensive. I was spending $20-25,000 a year dancing, and on top of that, I’ve got to spend lawyers’ fees? Nobody else has to do this. So I just—I gave up. I let them m—make me go pro, and then, you know, dance in Europe more than the United States, because in Europe nobody knows who I am. They don’t care. Then you get judged on the dancing.
Uh, you know—you know, this thing that I’m passionate about. I just love doing it. I love teaching, I love dancing, you know? The, um—the next world championships for same-sex dancing is gonna be in Miami in August of 2017 at the, uh—the World Outgames, and I won’t be dancing, you know? I’ve—I’ve danced at every Gay Game since 1998. I’m the only one. The Gay Games in 1998 was the first time they had dancing, and my partner and I took third. We danced in Sydney[, Australia], and then, let’s see—it was, uh, Amsterdam[, Netherlands], Sydney[, Australia], I wanna say Chicago[, Illinois], Cologne[, Germany], Cleveland[, Ohio]. The next one’s Paris[, France] in ’18, and, uh—and then the Outgames. We danced in Montreal[, Canada] for the first one. We didn’t go to the next ones, and then, um—and then it’ll be Miami. I don’t have a partner. I don’t get to dance. It’s like a four-hour drive from where I live, and I won’t be dancing. It’s just so miserable. I don’t have a partner, and it’s something—you can’t do it alone, you know, and it’s really—you know, it’s hard to reflect on—the 47 years is coming to an end, and I don’t have a say in that. It’s just gonna happen.
CraveroLamberty
Oh, was it the one in The Orlando Sentinel?
Cravero
I think it was, yeah.
Lamberty
Yeah.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
With a picture of me and the dog.
Cravero
That’s right.
Lamberty
Yeah.
Cravero
Then that was the one.
Lamberty
[laughs].
Cravero
Um, oh…
Lamberty
You’ll see.
Cravero
I also saw there that you did, um—you were a technical consultant on the rewrite of a DVIDA[6] American Smooth Bronze Syllabus manual. Could…
Lamberty
Oh, yeah, DVIDA.
Cravero
Could you explain what that is and describe the work you did on that?
Lamberty
Um, DVIDA is, uh, oh, Dance Vision—D—Dance Vision International—DVIDA—of—Dance Vision International is the company. DA—o I don’t remember what it stands for. A friend of mine, um, Diane Jarmolow, that I used to coach and have known forever, um, she got—she contacted me about helping with the manual, which was very nice. It was great. It was really lovely to be asked, but I’m very technical. People know that I have this profound very deep understanding of dancing, which happened while I lived in New Mexico. Um, I couldn’t dance much. It was, you know, a 60-mile drive to the closest dance studio, which I would do. There[?] was a—a woman there that did some dancing that I could do, but we were only allowed to dance after the studio closed at night, ‘cause the owner didn’t want people seeing us because we didn’t fit the profile—she was the teacher there, and he was afraid that we would scare people off, you know? It’s like wrong level, wrong kind of dancing for what the studio was about, and so two weeknights a week, I would drive to El Paso[, Texas], be there at 10 o’clock at night, and dance ‘til midnight, and drive home and have to be at work at seven in the morning.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
Um, but, um, while I was there, I met this woman who did ballet, and her husband—fiancé was a PhD kinesiologist at New Mexico State University and he wanted a project, but, you know, at the time—this was when they were doing a lot of things with, you know, analyzing on video tape athletic performance, ‘cause they were looking at, you know, runners on treadmills or swimmers in float tanks or cyclists on stationary bicycles, and seeing, you know, how do you optimize the human body in motion—and he didn’t want to do any of that stuff. So what I did was taught his w—his fiancé how to ballroom dance while he analyzed what we were doing, which, basically, no one had ever done before. No one had ever looked at the—the—the actual human body while it was dancing in this way, and n—not just one body, but two—how two bodies worked together, and he did this analysis of it with—with knowing nothing about dancing. So all of the language of dancing that had been used for 80-90 years to teach it had nothing to do with what he wrote about…
Cravero
Right.
Lamberty
Or what he analyzed. So not, “Here’s what somebody has always said about what we’re doing,” but, “This is what the bodies are doing,” and I—so he wrote about that and then I got all that information, and then I had that, so I could write about dancing in—in the dance world, and I wrote papers that would get published about here’s why the feet do what they do, here’s the way that your hold actually works in the frame—you know, not what Patrick Swayze says about it in Dirty Dancing…
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
But what’s actually going on, and that kind of revolutionized the way that dancing was looked at all over the world, and my—my work got spread all over, um, and so because of that I became well-known for this level of technical understanding, and when Diane needed help with the new manuals they were writing, then I got an email. It’s like, “You willing?” It’s like [claps hands] yes.” [laughs].
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
“I’ve been waiting for this.”
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
“Fix the stuff that’s wrong.”
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
And so, yeah. I worked on those manuals, and, in fact, my former partner is now working on the new set. He’s up in, uh, Indiana, and he was actually just down here for three days to talk to me about it, ‘cause he’s actually—he’s now the consultant for the next set of stuff that’s being done, um, but yeah, I got a credit in the—in the—in the book and everything, and it’s like “technical consultant,” and it was all this weird stuff. What’s the difference between “brush to” and “brush toward”? What’s the difference between a “brush” and a “collect”? You know, it’s like how to—what’s the difference between “side and slightly forward” and “forward and slightly side,” and it’s like all this really technical stuff, which I’m well-suited to because I love language, you know, from my own issues with language—couldn’t speak for a long time. I love language. I’m a mathematician. So, you know, my—I had a double major at Rollins—mathematics and English—and the dancing is mathematical. The partner dancing is a—is a mathematical construct actually, and then I had all this understanding of what was going on because of this analysis that had been done by this PhD kinesiologist. It’s like, you know—it’s perfect. Love it.
Cravero
So cool.
Lamberty
Yeah.
Lamberty
Um, no [laughs].
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
It’s—it’s funny. I don’t have a sticky memory for lyrics. Lyrics are so hard for me to learn—that they don’t stick in my brain very well, and, uh, so, you know, people will say, “Oh, we sang this five years ago,” and I’m going, “Really? I was here then. Did we? I don’t remember,” um, but I—I love singing with the chorus. I—I have no interest in doing any of the solo stuff or anything like that. I have zero—I love singing with the chorus, and we do two major concerts a year—the spring and the holiday. Um, I like the spring concerts, but I tend to love the holiday stuff because the music is different, you know? The—the Christmas stuff, the holiday stuff in general—it’s just got this wonderful character, and, uh, learning—learning about music. I mean, I always had to know something about music because of the dancing. I played piano for several years and I—it was the first thing—I didn’t understand at the time, but it hurt. It got to the point where it hurt, and so I quit, and then I was a great believer in I’m young and healthy. Park across campus and walk, and, uh, at Rollins, I was in the math program. The math courses were on the fourth floor of the [Archibald Granville] Bush Science Center. I always took the stairs. I got to the point where I couldn’t climb the stairs. So I didn’t know what was going on, um, but, you know, how did I get involved with the chorus? My partner quit, and I thought, Well, I won’t be dancing. I need something to do that’s interesting, that will challenge my mind, that will be fun, that will get me out in the world, ‘cause I don’t have a regular job. I don’t meet people. I don’t, you know, have people at work. I don’t go out to lunch. I don’t meet people. So I’ll join the chorus. It’ll be fun, and it has been. It’s really lovely, um, but—and I was afraid to sing, ‘cause I hadn’t—I’d been told I didn’t sing well. Well, they didn’t care, you know?
Now, it’s a little different. The—the chorus actually is[sic] improved dramatically from then. Well, you know, the work of Jim Brown—here at UCF—was our director at the time that I joined, and he did great work with the chorus, and now we have a new director, who’s very, very choral. Very, you know—the sound is gonna be the sound kind of thing, and, uh, I don’t know that I could get in now. You know, if I had—if I tried to join now, I doubt that they would take me. Now, I’m okay. I mean I’ve learned, but, you know, between the two of them, I learned a lot. Understanding a music that’s fundamentally different. I love that. I love learning, and then being with the group and doing.
So, you know, particular thing that we sing that I like the best? No, no. I mean, every concert there’s something that I end up really loving, which is usually a surprise. It’s not the thing that I think at first that I’m gonna like, and, you know, something that’s not my favorite, you know—sing it anyway, um, and most of the stuff is like, Oh, this is fun or not, you know? Some things are more fun to sing. Some things—just the sound of them. We did, um, in the last concert before we went to Denver for GALA[7]—one of the things we sang was a song for—“A Prayer for Children,” and it’s an old s—piece. It was written, um, I think about Croatia during the [Croatian] War [of Independence] there, and it’s gorgeous. It’s hard, but it’s so beautiful. Um, when I first joined it was like I had to be surrounded by other people singing my part, and so it was—you know, it’s like, Mm. I can’t stand next to somebody who’s doing anything different than me. I don’t sing that well, and now, normally, where I get placed is standing next to the altos. I sing bass—I sing low bass. So it’s like bass, baritone—we usually sing the same thing, but not always—and then the altos, and so I’m standing next to an alto and the—in the front, and I can hear the rest of the chorus, and it’s so beautiful sometimes. I mean, there’s pieces that we do—the fun stuff I love. It’s great and fun to sing, but the s—I love the things that the sound of them is—it’s amazing to experience, and that’s what I’ve always looked for in the dance music, you know—the sound of the music that I choose for my own choreography is what I’m interested in, but, you know, chorus is great.
It’s—it’s always been interesting to belong, you know? There’s—like any other human endeavor and organization, there’s groups that form and factions, and the politics of it and all that. It’s normal. I’m used to that, but at the heart of it, there’s this thing that we’re doing something that matters as a group. Um, when the chorus was formed 26 years ago, you know, the—the small group of people that did that, they were risking, you know, employment. You know, to be associated with a gay group publicly like that, many of them could have been fired for it. Um, it was a brave thing to do then, um, and y—you know, it’s not like that n—now. We belong. It’s okay in Orlando.
But, you know, this summer’s been kind of insane. We had had our concert, and the—the weekend of the shooting at Pulse there were several things going on. Um, every year right around that time there is the Orange Blossom [Dance] Festival, which is a big country western dance competition, and I always try to go. Um, well, at least one night, go by, dance and visit with people, ‘cause I know a lot of people, and if like—convention friends—you see them once a year, and—‘cause I don’t go to the other stuff, and I’m not a country western dancer, but some of these people do other things. Some of them are involved in the same-sex ballroom, um, and it’s often my birthday, ‘cause my birthday’s June 11th, and so, normally what would happen is I would go on the Saturday. It’s the better night. If you go Friday, people don’t stay up that late ‘cause a lot of them have to get up in the morning and compete—dance with their students or dance in some way, and Saturday’s better. A lot of the competition is over. The stuff on Sunday is different, and so, you know, go there, dance all evening. Around midnight or so, get a group of people and we’ll go out. Go someplace where there is music, um, and—music that you can dance to—partner dance to, and that has, in fact, been Pulse in the past, eh, when it matched up. Latin Night—if it was going on—e could go there and dance. That’d be great.Um, this year, I went on Friday because Saturday night we had one of our, uh, non-outreach—there’s another word—I—I forget this word every time I go to do it, uh—cabaret. We have three cabaret performances a year. One of them’s at the Parliament House. It’s called “Uncut.” It’s the raunchy one, and then we have the—the, um—the h—February Valentine’s Day one. That’s the love one, and then, the—we have the summer one, and this year, it was early in the summer. It’s often later, and, um—and it happened to be on that Saturday, and since it was my birthday weekend—I wasn’t singing. I—it was like, I’ll go, and they had these VIP’s tickets with the reception and the dinner and then the thing, and it’s like, I’ll go to that. So I had the ticket and I went. It was wonderful, had great time, and then it was done and nobody wanted to really go out, and I did not want to drive all the way out to this hotel and see what’s going on because it was late. Any other year, I would have been at the hotel with the dancers and we would have been going to Pulse and arriving about 12:30 and staying until they closed or later—make them stay open and play music. So I would have had, you know, 25-30 people from out of town, who just love to dance, be there with me, and I just, you know—when—I’m tired. I think I’ll go home. That was the decision.
So Sunday morning, I wake up. I look at my phone and I—there’s all these text messages. “Are you okay?” “Are you okay?” And I’m thinking, It was one singer. Yes, I know we sing at The Plaza [Live], you know, People know we sing at The Plaza. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine, and then I get into the shower and turn on the radio [laughs]. It was like, Turn off the shower, go back to the phone. It’s like, “Oh, my God. I—I had no idea,” you know—listening to the news. I was like, Wow, you know, nut for being tired, I would have been there. I would[?], uh—bringing people.
So I don’t—I’m not a Facebook person really, but I looked to see, and I saw that there was gonna be a special Mass. The, um—there’s a gay, Catholic group in Orlando, and the priest who runs that, uh, used to sing in the chorus with us, and so I take my mother to Mass every Sunday—very Catholic—in Winter Park—St. Margaret Mary [Catholic Church] —very affluent—and, you know—and after Mass and I was waiting to see would[sic] they say anything, and they—and they did. Um, it wasn’t hugely specific, but it was, you know—they acknowledged what had happened, and the violence. Not that it was a gay attack or anything, but—but at least they acknowledged it at Mass, and we left immediately from there and went to the—to the place, which is a bar, you know? St. Matthew’s [Tavern at the Orlando Beer Garden]. Is—it used to be I wanna say Revolution—on Mills[Avenue]…
Cravero
Right.
Lamberty
Next to the [Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Community] Center [of Central Florida]. Alright, that’s where they have Mass, and so we went, and, you know, we s—we went to Mass there, and, you know, at some point in the afternoon, there was a message that came out about—we had been invited to sing at, um, Joy MCC,[8] and I was like, “Absolutely, I’ll be there.” It was massive. When[?] you show up and there’s all these cameras, and they have relegated them to this corner in the back, and there’s[sic] way too many people, and there’s some seating reserved in the front for the chorus, and there’s not enough. There’s so many of us that showed up, and I felt terrible. I had to sit, ‘cause I—I couldn’t stand. My hip hurt, my knee hurt. I couldn’t—I couldn’t stand for the whole thing. I had to take a chair away from somebody else, you know, but—and then, it came time to sing. So we lined up in the front and, um, we had “True Colors” and, um, “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” and we sang, and, um, by the time I got home, you know, I looked at Facebook and there was a video that had been posted. It was CBS News, and the CBS newsman thought he was so clever. He had gotten the camera spot that was right in the center aisle, and so when we went to do “True Colors,” of course, that’s where the conductor stood, and right in front of him was the soloist, Caitlyn[sp], and so he had a completely blocked view [laughs] of the soloist. He couldn’t get her face—couldn’t get her face, but there’s the camera and there am I.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
And out of this like two and a half minute video, about 60 seconds of it is on my face, and this got posted on Facebook, and re-p—tagged, and posted and posted, and by the time I got home, I had messaged from 11 countries, and it was overwhelming. I mean, you know—we didn’t know a lot yet. We didn’t even know really how many people were dead yet. I didn’t know whether or not I knew anybody. I did—nobody well, no close friends, but it’s a small community. You know—you don’t know what to do. You know what there was to do? Sing. As it happens, I don’t have a day job. So when we get asked to go and sing and—I can say, “Yes.” I can show up at one o’clock at UCF across town for something, or drive out to the [Orange County] Convention Center at crack of dawn and not worry about being late to work, or—I could show up. That’s what I could do, and it was fascinating to see.
We had the Sunday night there and then Monday night at Dr. Phillips [Center for the Performing Arts] on the lawn, which was not supposed to be what it was, but turned into this thing, and—and it just started happening, and we had GALA [Choruses Festival] coming. We knew—and that was gonna change. Everything was gonna change. So we got invited to the—to sing at the formal thing at Dr. Phillips on the 28th.[9] I was flying out. I was going early. I have an ex-boyfriend that lives in Denver[, Colorado], and four years ago, I got to visit with him. This year, I was going to do the same. Go early, spend some time with him, meet the husband—you know, of 11 years that I had never met, um—and so I wasn’t—I wasn’t at the first concert at Dr. Phillips inside, um, and I had a few days. I mean, there had been so many things. I think Carol said that between June 20th—the 12th and the 28th, there were 20 outreach things that we did, and I lost count how many I did. You know, some of them were just the ensemble things and s—one or two people, but—but, you know, 20 things that the chorus was involved in, and I had like at least nine that I did in those few days, and I got to Denver, and I had time away from all of it, you know? It was no longer in the news every day, and not what everybody’s talking about. Just time—and, uh, people talk about processing. It was like, Oh, this is what that means. Time to really think—to—to stop and feel, and then GALA would come, and I knew—I knew what it was gonna be like. I mean, GALA’s crazy anyway, and it was gonna be different. We were gonna, you know—kind of like, if you’re gonna be a part of this, you accept an obligation about certain things.
I’m used to—I’m used to being a public figure. Mm—I’m a—I’m well-known in the world of dancing. In the world of same-sex dancing, I’m the grandfather. I’m known. Um, I was well-known in my work in California. I mean, we didn’t talk about it, but I’ve—I’ve done things that people don’t understand, you know? I worked on—when you type on the computer and it offers you the corrected spelling[10] or look ahead,[11] I developed that for the very first system that ever had it—was the—the satellite control system that I did for NASA in the [19]80s. That didn’t become available for a very, very long time. I developed that. The very first clickable interface to purchase—“online shopping” is what we call it now—I developed that. The—the idea that you can get credit by filling out an online form, that was revolutionary. I did that. I designed that. Um, then when you go to an ATM[12] and you put in your money or your check, and it just reads it and tells you—instead of putting that in an envelope and writing on the envelope, and a person has to open it and count it. I did that—not—not for ATMs. Didn’t fit in an ATM when I did it.Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
But that technology was something I developed. That’s what I worked on. I’ve done all these things with computers that have transformed the world as we know it, and that are now a part of everybody’s existence in the Western world, and how we just interact all the time, and my name is not on any of it. I have no patents. I’m not famous for any of it, but the people who were there, they all knew, you know? I walked into a room of computer nerds in the Bay area. Everybody knew who I was. I was the guy that had won a congressional award for software. There wasn’t anybody else that had done that and never has been, you know? I was the guy that walked up to Steve Jobs and told him he was wrong.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
[laughs] He was not happy with me. Um, and I—I know what it’s like to be public, and what the chorus was facing was—we were gonna be the face of Orlando—the face of Pulse at this huge thing. When somebody comes walking up and they have to say something to you, or they have to express how they feel, the obligation is listen. Let them. Let them feel what they feel. Let them share what they have to say. Because at that point, it’s no longer about us. People need the space to be able to express, to—to grieve, to process, and we were gonna be their outlet for doing that.
James [A. Rode] was not exactly the kind of director that was used to talking a lot, especially in a performance. The first time he was involved with a performance of the chorus, we sang. He probably said six words to the audience. Not his thing. We were in the waiting area backstage and he spoke to us. We had this set of songs, carefully chosen—changed from what it was supposed to be. I mean, we had—our—our set for GALA was celebratory when we started. Had to change—the message had to change, and some of the music was not music that people wanted to necessarily be singing, um, but it told a story, and he talked to us. “We have an obligation. Find a connection to that music. Relay the message that we’re bringing. It’s hard,” you know, “There’s suffering, there’s pain, and there’s hope. It’s up to us. Create hope, create love.” Like it was beautiful.
So we all walk onstage and we start to sing, as we [inaudible] the ovation, and, you know, you just have to stand there and take it. I used to teach people, “You just gotta stand there and take it.” I made my staff learn to be acknowledged. It’s not easy holding up. It’s not easy, and what did we do? Well, we have to live in Orlando and sing [sniffles]. [inaudible] cause is[?] [inaudible], and then, James read his statement to the audience. None of us had a clue what it said, and then—I mean—oh, God. The man’s eloquent, you know? He’s a schoolteacher, he’s educated, he knows how to write. It was good. It was devastating. It was like—and then, “Let’s sing.” It was like, Oh, no. You’ve gotta be kidding. It’s like—like—I—but, you know, at that point, it didn’t matter. We could’ve stood there and flapped our arms like birds and nobody would’ve cared, and so—but we tried. I mean, by the second verse—it was “You’ll Never Walk Alone”—by the second verse, we—we could maybe sort of sing, and the walkout into that crowd of people.
I remember being in Washington, D.C., you know, mid-[19]90s in like the second March on Washington [for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation]. Being on the subway when I lived in the Bay area—you know, one of gay centrals—it’s like, “No.” You know when you ride on BART,[13] you’re not safe. Doesn’t matter that it’s San Francisco[, California], you know? You—y—y—there’s a way of being circumspect, and I’m—I spent my whole childhood being abused because I was different. I didn’t understand that “different” meant “gay,” but they did. I went[?], you know—I—it was a normal part of my experience to be physically attacked on a regular basis. Thrown into lockers, you know, punched and hit—and that was just normal, and n—there was[sic] no adults who really cared. My mother asked me the other day it was like, “Where—wa—was I affectionate as a mother?” And I said, “Not to me,” And she was shocked—just shocked. It’s like, “I’m the wrong one to ask.” I didn’t let anyone touch me. From—from the day—first day of first grade—new school, you know, didn’t know anybody, new city—and the first thing that happened to me was to be attacked. Yeah, I didn’t let people touch me. Dancing was my way of touch. Other than that, no one touched me, you know? Not hug people, barely would shake hands. Not allowed to touch, and you walk out to this—wanting to hug you. I’m not good at hugging. You have to let people, and I had scheduled my flights that I would actually not stay to the very end. I was so grateful. I couldn’t take it anymore [sniffs].
At GALA, they have “coffee concerts” in the morning. They, um—a longer time slot to do something with. A very small, Canadian group had one of ‘em. It was very crowded. I managed to get a seat. It was marvelous. It was funny. Almost every one of the choruses added something in to acknowledge. you know, It was very—uh, um, I don’t want to seem callous, but it was like, you know, one more—“Thanks,” you know, [laughs] but—and the Canadians change theirs—program too a little bit, but what was fascinating to me was they had this woman in a hijab singing with them [sniffs]. She was fascinating. Soaring soprano voice, phenomenally animated—just, you know, capture everyone’s eye when she was onstage, and they—they sang a song in, um, not Farsi, but, um, Arabic, because of her, and, you know, it’s normal, you know? People are leaving the stage and you line the hallways and everybody comes in. Everybody [inaudible]. So I just waited. I waited. I waited.
We had—we had, uh, you know—people had ribbons that we had made and stickers and the Pulse logos and there was like [inaudible], and I wanted to talk to this woman, and everybody wanted to talk to this woman. She had friends there—all this—and I waited, and finally. Finally, there was a camera crew following her around, and I just waited until she was kind of done and all settled down, and she saw me in the shirt—the shirt, and she looked at me and I looked at her, and I put out my hand and it had one of the Pulse stickers in it, and I said to her, “I want you to have this,” and it was extraordinary. Here’s this woman, who turns out isn’t a woman. She’s—she’s a transsexual in process, who is a convert to Islam, who decided to be Orthodox, found an organization in Canada that would accept her for who she is, you know? Coming to America to a major city after a shooting that’s related to, you know, an Islamic fundamentalist supposedly—not really, but that’s the perception—and as we stood there, we talked—I don’t know—20 minutes. It was amazing, and, you know, the stories that she had to tell. Just m—this is—this is what bravery looks like. I was like, “Let’s get the picture,” you know? I don’t do pictures. I always forget, but I have my picture with her. You know, put it on Facebook. It’s mine.
There were—there’s been a lot of things. Um, one of the outreaches was at, um, [John F.] Kennedy Space Center, and not many people could go. It was like, workday, Tuesday, all day, have to be able to get on base. Not everybody would pass the minimal clearance requirements, um, but I could go, and, um, I was like, Oh, this’ll be interesting, you know? I wonder in anybody will know my project, and that was—it was—and, you know, when I worked with TRW Space and Defense, being gay was not a good thing, um, and when we show up it’s gonna be this auditorium full of people, who— ‘cause they have an organization now. It’s like NASA has an organization for gay people. Different world, and—and, yes, you know—people know the project that I worked on. It’s still a meaningful thing. People actually, you know, there were people who know my father’s name. It was amazing, and that was hard. That was—for me, that was the hardest one to sing there.There’s still—I just—we just went Sunday to the movie theater, ‘cause Tony Romero—I don’t know what his last name is—invited the chorus and a few other people, ‘cause Ellen [DeGeneres] gave him a showing of Finding Dory, which I did not see, and it’s like, Okay, this is lovely. Get to go—it’s changing. We get to reflect differently. We get to look to a future. The obligation to create something meaningful is on those who survive, who are after. It’s like funerals aren’t for the dead. They’re for the living. We’re living. We get to choose what this means. We get to choose what happens. I want—I want there to be a difference. I want the world to wake up and know, and I don’t want it to be because it was a gay club in Orlando, but something has to do it.
You know, you take the populations of Great Britain, and Australia, Denmark, and Sweden, and, you know, several other countries combined—is less than the population of the United States, and we have, you know, up 50 times the murder rate that they do. It’s not just because we’re stupid; it’s because they have gun laws that are meaningful and we don’t. You know, Australia had a mass shooting[14] and they changed their world. It was sane. We’re insane. We’re living in an insane society. I want sanity. I’m tired of it costing lives.
I don’t look forward to my birthday next year, ‘cause it’s gonna be, you know, the weekend of the one-year anniversary. I don’t want there to be a one-year anniversary. There will be. I’ll be there. I wish I didn’t have to. It’s so preventable. We have to be responsible for what happens next. I have to be responsible for what happens next.
CraveroLamberty
You know, [sighs] it was interesting. Um, after this, it’s like you’re driving around town and there’s rainbow lights everywhere, and like, you know, it was August. W—my brother was in town for the weekend or the day with this wife. They live in Melbourne[, Florida], and we were gonna go to brunch up in Longwood. Driving and getting off at the exit in I[nterstate] 4, it was raining, and it’s—and below it is the banner—“Orlando Untied”—with the rainbow flag. I was looking at it, it’s like [inaudible]. I took a picture out of the window of the car, and we got to the restaurant and, you know, had this wonderful brunch, and leaving the restaurant, they have one of those chalkboard things, you know—two-sided, and on the front side g—walking in is all the specials, and on the back side was the “Orlando Strong”—“Orlando United,” but, you know, I don’t—where was I? Longwood somewhere. Casselberry, and there is the CVS [Pharmacy] with the electronic sign out front that cycles through its set of stuff. One of which was “Orland Strong.” I was like—I think it would be beautiful if what would just happen is that we could be the “City of Rainbows.” W—let’s, you know, that—somehow [laughs] the gay community got the rainbow flag. It’s like, Wow, that was smart [laughs].
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
I don’t know if they were actually planning that far in advance, but it was like, Wow, we co-opted the rainbow [laughs].
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
It’s like, That’s awesome. It’s like “The City Beautiful.” It’s like “The City of Rainbows.” Wow, I would—I would love for all of these city buildings and—and banks and everything else just like keep putting up rainbows. They’re beautiful. We can create all the meaning we want from them. They’re beautiful. That would be a wonderful thing to have happen.
I would like that, you know—we have this political season that we’re dealing with. We’re dealing with the rise of fundamentalism. People don’t understand what that means. Fundamentalism is a particular thing in philosophy. It’s—it’s not just an extreme point of view—that’s orthodoxy. It’s not just that “I’m right and you’re wrong.” It is: “I’m right, you’re wrong,” and the existence of other ideas, other beliefs cannot be tolerated, and must be suppressed or eliminated by whatever means necessary. That’s fundamentalism. We’ve seen it in religions—not just Islam. I mean, you know, American Christianity is full of its fundamentalism. “You will believe the way that I say it’s supposed to be or”—and when, you—political fundamentalism—“I’ll get what I want in this bill or this bill will never happen.” There is no such thing as compromise in fundamentalism. Nationalism is a form of fundamentalism. Brexit is fundamentalism. The rise of these nationalistic parties in Europe—that’s fundamentalism. You know, even the idea that the news doesn’t tell us the facts. They tell us how we’re supposed to feel about what happens. No, you don’t get to tell me how to feel, but somehow that’s become part of news. No, but that’s representive[sic] of fundamentalism. It’s, “You don’t get to have your opinion.” There is “the opinion” and that’s it.
As long as that’s true, we’re not gonna see gun control. We’re not gonna see a society where it’s truly safe to be gay. We’ve made huge progress, but that doesn’t change the way that people think, or believe—believe is worse. Belief takes no foundation. There’s—doesn’t have to be proved, and anything that stands in the way of it can be discounted.
We sing, you know—you know, we talk about the—what is our purpose? We’re gonna change hearts and minds from musical excellence. The opportunity that’s been presented to the Orlando Gay Chorus because of this horrific thing is phenomenal. We get an audience that we would never have had, and we get to stand up, and we get to sing, and we get to do it as a gay group, and people get to hear good music, good singing, and it has a message, and we’re gay. I—you know, I talked to the leadership in the chorus and said, “Don’t be afraid. It’s—you’re not—there’s nothing wrong—there’s nothing wrong with capitalizing on this moment.” We’ve said for a long time that we want to stand up and mean something. The opportunity’s been handed to us. The mistake would be to not take it. Say, “Yes.” Do these things. Put the message out there, and do it for the right reasons.
I said to Tony the other day—the business manager—“You know, there are a lot of survivors in a lot of ways. Most of them can’t—can’t stand up and talk to the world. It’s not a part of who they are,” but he can, and I remember eighth grade. There was this thing happening, you know—one of the kids in school—and I went home and I complained to my mother about it, and she said, “Who did you talk to?” I was like, “No one. Not me,” You know, and she’s, “Well, you know? You should.” I was like, “Why?” It’s like, “Well, because you can.” So the next day, I marched myself into the principal’s office and complained on behalf of somebody who couldn’t. Those who can need to. Tony can stand up and talk to the world about his experience, and maybe change the world’s thinking—little bit by little bit by doing that. he should. He’s not opportunistic. He has a message that needs to be heard, and he’s capable of delivering it, and he can do that on behalf of victims everywhere. He should. The chorus has an opportunity. We should. We can. It’s not opportunistic. Yes, does it move our agenda forward—the agenda we’ve had f—long before this happened? Absolutely, but it’s still the right thing to do, and it’s for the right reasons, and that’s what we should do. We should keep saying “yes” to the opportunities that arise, and over time—it’s already happening—that they’re—they’re not about that anymore. We got to sing with the Second Harvest Food Bank [of Central Florida], because I go to their dinners, and I know the organizer there, and she likes me.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
And after this happened, she said to me, “You sing with the Gay Chorus.” I was like, “Yes, I do.” “I wanna talk to you about it.” I was like, “Not the right one to talk to, but, boy, can I get you in touch with the person who is,” and we got to do this amazing event for an audience who we would otherwise never touch. Changed the perception of a lot of things.
We got to sing the national anthem[15] at the First Responders’ Breakfast. This is not a group of people who are gonna just suddenly say, “Oh, gosh. We need to have the Orlando Gay Chorus come and sing.” We’re gonna sing for the AFL-CIO.[16] It’s like Jimmy Hoffa’s[17] union.[18]
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
We’re gonna sing for them. The gay chorus in Orlando is gonna sing for Jimmy Hoffa’s union.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
That was not gonna happen before, and now, it is. So, you know, what’s gonna come of this? I hope that. I hope lots of things like that. I hope a dialogue, in music for us, that lets people have a different experience of what “gay” means, and then, maybe the world really can change.
Lamberty
No, you don’t—you don’t want to get me started on Lucy.[19] It’s okay.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
[laughs] Read the blog.[20]
Cravero
We can always do a second interview.
Lamberty
[laughs].
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
Read—read the blog on Lucy.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
Did you find my blog?
Cravero
I did.
Lamberty
Yeah.
Cravero
I did.
Lamberty
Yeah.
Cravero
Well, that’s an interview for another time.
Lamberty
Oh, yeah.
Cravero
[laughs].
Lamberty
This—thank you. You know, it’s like—this’ll go into an archive, and—and who knows? Maybe some researcher a hundred years from now will look at it, but probably, other than that, nothing.
Cravero
Aw.
Lamberty
That’s okay.
Cravero
It’s fantastic. Well, this is, uh—this has been Geoffrey Cravero with Richard Lamberty in the conference room of the Center for Digital Humanities and Research at UCF in Orlando, Florida, on Tuesday, October 11th, 2016.
[1] University of Central Florida.
[2] National Aeronautics and Space Administration.
[3] Acquired immune deficiency syndrome.
[4] North American Same-Sex Partner Dance Association.
[5] European Same-Sex Dancing Association (ESSDA).
[6] Dance Vision International Dancers Association.
[7] Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses.
[8] Joy Metropolitan Community Church.
[9] Of June.
[10] Spell check.
[11] Typeahead.
[12] Automatic teller machine.
[13] Bay Area Rapid Transit.
[14] Port Arthur massacre.
[15] The Star-Spangled Banner.
[16] American Federation of Labor and Congress of Industrial Organizations.
[17] Born James Riddle Hoffa.
[18] Correction: Jimmy Hoffa was the president of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters (IBT).
[19] Lamberty’s now-deceased dog.
[20] http://rexl.org/.
Youngers
Hello, my name is Stephanie Youngers. Today is November 12, 2010. And I am interviewing Mr. Ed L’Heureux here at the Museum of Seminole County History. How are you today?
L’Heureux
I’m fine today.
Youngers
Good. We would like to begin by asking where and when you were born.
L’Heureux
I was born in Gloversville, New York. Upstate New York. In May of 1939.
Youngers
And how did you make your way into the Florida area?
L’Heureux
My dad and mother moved from New York to New Jersey during World War II. He was in the Coast Guard and my mother inherited some property in Central Florida at the end of the war when her uncle died. And we came down to seek it out. We sold a little farm in New Jersey, and loaded things on a truck like the Okies going to California, and came to Florida with no turning back. And we didn’t like the property. My mother didn’t like it. It was rattlesnake-infested. But we decided to stay, because we liked Florida.
Youngers
Oh, well good. And about how old were you when you…
L’Heureux
I was five. Five years old.
Youngers
You’ve been here a long time, then.
L’Heureux
Since I was five.
Youngers
You might as well be a native.
L’Heureux
I wish I could claim the other five years.
Youngers
Whereabouts did you live when you moved here?
L’Heureux
We moved to Winter Park. Winter Park.
Youngers
So, wow. When, I mean, do you have memories of Winter Park, as far as the way it looked, and…?
L’Heureux
Oh, absolutely. There were wooden sidewalks on two blocks in Winter Park, just like Little House on the Prairie. You know, out west in that TV show. Wooden sidewalks. You’d clop along, and then they were torn down about two years later to make way for a bank, but it was a frontier town.
Youngers
Really.
L’Heureux
All the old cars were still around. People came in the winters and went back up north in the summers. A couple of garages close to Park Avenue in Winter Park, you would see the old Pierce Arrows and Cadillacs and Packards that were there. They’d take the train back up north and leave the car here for next winter. So it was a sleepy, beautiful little town in those days.
Youngers
Oh, wow. Well …it’s still a pretty little town.
L’Heureux
It still is. It still is.
Youngers
It definitely has gotten much larger.
L’Heureux
Yes. Regrettably.
Youngers
Did they have any kind of local gathering or events or anything in Winter Park that you attended?
L’Heureux
One of the first things I remember were fish fries. They had mullet fish fries. The Lion’s Club put them on and brought concrete blocks to the grammar school playground. Put wooden planks on top for tables, and concrete blocks and wooden planks for benches, and they’d cook this mullet and they’d deep-fry this mullet, you could smell it a block away. And it was delicious.
Youngers
And it was a whole town event that everybody attended?
L’Heureux
Well, it could have been a town event. Anybody could come and pay maybe for a dollar for the dinner. And the Lion’s Club put it on about three or four times a year, and everybody came and they strung lights on the playground. Those naked yellow lights—the little bulbs—and a little music in the background. And it was tremendous.
Youngers
Oh, very neat.
L’Heureux
The whole fish fry. Yeah. I remember it.
Youngers
So, the schools you attended?
L’Heureux
Winter Park Elementary, which is part of Rollins College today. It has been torn down now. But old Winter Park Elementary and Winter Park High School was built in 1923. Went to all three public schools there and loved it dearly. It was a great town. Great town. Nobody locked their houses or their cars. Literally.
Youngers
Wow. You can’t do that now.
L’Heureux
No. You can’t do that now.
Youngers
So, did you go to college from here?
L’Heureux
I went into the Army right after high school, and got out fairly soon, had a little period of time. Went to Stetson University up in DeLand about 40 miles away. I went to DeLand and graduated with a history degree there, went on to law school, and moved back to Orlando and Winter Park and have been in that area ever since.
Youngers
And you still live there now?
L’Heureux
I live in Winter Springs, which is close. It’s north. But that whole area has been my home for the longest time. When I give speeches, they say I’m a native when I’m introduced, but I can’t claim that first five years.
Youngers
Sure you can.
L’Heureux
Wish I could, but…
Youngers
Did you work as an attorney when you came back?
L’Heureux
No, no, no. I never practiced law at all. I dropped out before I was through. There was a lady there—I fell in love with her and we both didn’t like the law that much, for some strange reason. We both dropped out and we were married just under 40 years.
Youngers
Oh, wow. That’s good.
L’Heureux
She passed away in ‘03 of cancer, but we had a long life together.
Youngers
Good. What did you do, as far as a career and things?
L’Heureux
I was in the insurance business. I had an insurance agency. I had a Nationwide Insurance agency. I never liked business particularly, because I was trained a[sic] historian and I always wished that I’d been closer to that. And now, late in life, in my sixties and seventies, I’m a public lecturer on a myriad of Florida topics. And I write books. I’ve written 15 books, and I’m doing what I should have done as a younger man. And late in life, I’m able to do what I wish I had done earlier. So it’s kind of nice.
Youngers
So, you’re writing books. Is that just a passion you always had?
L’Heureux
Yes. I had a joint major in Stetson—History and English. And I always wanted to write books. And I always wanted to write books about Florida—novels. And in my insurance career, which was somewhat boring—I hate to say that, but it wasn’t really a stimulating thing for me. I had a family to raise, kids to raise, and I went through it and did it and was able to accomplish it, but the fire was not in the furnace. And my dad saw that melancholic hue when I was in my early forties, and he said, why don’t you dust off your pencil and pen and write again like you did in college? Because in college, I wrote for the paper. Wrote feature articles for The DeLand Sun News, up in Stetson at DeLand. And one day, I was out walking in a field and I saw a story. It just came to me. And I wrote it, and I wrote a second and third and fourth, and took it down to Rollins College, to a friend of my dad’s who was in the English department, and he thought they were very good. And my career was launched.
Youngers
So you’ve been doing this now since you were in your forties?
L’Heureux
Yes, yes, over 20 years.
Youngers
Oh, very nice. And when you do public lectures and things, what do you talk about?
L’Heureux
I have a slate of, oh, about 35 topics. All aspects of Florida history. Current, old history. Civil War. Seminole Indian Wars. Many of the industries—citrus, cattle, timber. The early founders. The early explorers. The treasure coast. Over 30 lectures I’ve crafted and researched and I deliver all around to all manner of places.
Youngers
And you do them at the local colleges?
L’Heureux
Yes, I do college level. Civic clubs, retirement centers, private organizations—business enrichment for companies that want to enrich their employees with a lecture. All kinds of ways and things. And I’m doing that now, currently in retirement, and I love it.
Youngers
Well, you said you were married, and you mentioned you had children. Do you have a special courtship story?
L’Heureux
Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. Funny you’d ask that. It’s not staged. I’ll never forget it. We were in law school together. And I had noticed her, because there were three women in the law school, and the rest were men. And she cut a pretty nice figure and I noticed her early on. And we had never spoken. We had seen each other and she had noticed me and I had noticed her. We were both freshmen. She had come in a semester before me. I had come in on the off-semester. And oh, maybe two or three weeks had gone by, and I had heard that everyone was dating her, and I found out that nobody was. It was just a rumor. We sat next to each other on a bench before class. The first words she said to me were, “I wonder what colors eyes our children will have.”
Youngers
Oh my.
L’Heureux
Just like that. Just like that. And for once in my life, I was speechless. She said it just like that. And the answer was blue and brown, but not on the same child. So we had a son and a daughter, and they were brown-eyed and blue-eyed. The first thing she ever said to me. So I guess that’s a courtship story.
Youngers
That was very forward. And that’s right.
L’Heureux
That’s exactly what she said.
Youngers
That’s awesome.
L’Heureux
It just—I wonder what color eyes our children will have.
Youngers
That’s very good.
L’Heureux
Isn’t that amazing?
Youngers
Yes, that’s awesome. And do you have any special family heirlooms or keepsakes that your kids share? Do your kids share your passion for history?
L’Heureux
Not particularly. That’s strange. They don’t. My wife was trained as a journalist. And I had the English major, and History, and I had been writing. We both were writers. She wrote in industry.
My son is a[sic] entrepreneur of sorts. He’s a very successful businessmen. He went to Georgia State [University] on a tennis scholarship and was an excellent student all the way along. And he operates and owns a company. And he’s a businessman and a coach. He coaches his daughters—my granddaughters—in lacrosse. And he’s steeped in the business world, but also with his church and philanthropic things. He likes history, but not with the same passion I have.
My daughter is in the insurance business. Similar to what I did for a long, long time. I think mine was 27 years—something like that. And she’s got two children. My son has two children. She’s too busy to read much about history. So I don’t think—even though they’re smart children, they were exceptional in school, and I don’t think they have that historic bent. That happens a lot. But they’re both successful in their own right, and I’m happy about that.
Youngers
You all lived in Winter Park for a long time. Do you remember any historical events that happened?
L’Heureux
Yes. I do. A couple I could mention. Rollins College had a very close union with Winter Park. They were joined at the hip, and they loved each other, and they just cooperated all the way through. It was wonderful to see. Rollins had something called The Animated Magazine” where people would come and speak and tell their life story, or a portion thereof. Some of the greatest notables of the age came. And I was selling newspapers there as a young boy, in my teens and even younger—10, 11, 12, 13. And I saw some great people. James Cagney, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings—the writer—Mary [McLeod] Bethune—the educator—all kinds of people from all walks of endeavor. And that made a great impression on me, because I knew some of these people. I knew their plaudits, I knew their successes, and yet I could see them speak from a stage. And here I was scurrying around trying to sell newspapers there. They held it every winter, in one of the months without a lot of rain. They held it outdoors in February. It’s usually cool. And I remember in the early days, when I was just a little boy, the women and men would come all decked out. Women would wear hats, you know, all women wore hats until somewhere in the ‘40s—‘50s, I guess it was. And they’d wear their fox stoles with little beaded eyes, you know—and foxes, all heavy coats in the winter time. And men would dress up with hats. I remember that. And I think I got a lot of history from that.
One thing from my youth that I recall, when Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings wrote The Yearling, the famous book which won the Pulitzer Prize in 1939. The movie came out in the late ‘40s. With Gregory Peck and Jane Wyman. And the theaters thought so much about it that they decked the theaters—the lobbies—in a Florida motif. Hanging moss, they had a possum in a cage, they had a raccoon in a cage, they had palmetto bushes in there, just like the big scrub that she wrote about. And it was—everybody was decked out in old frontier days, and you walk in the lobby, you thought you were at Cross Creek, where she lived. And you can’t get that today.
Youngers
Oh my. And that’s the theater in Winter Park?
L’Heureux
Well, the theater in Winter Park, the Colony [Theatre], and the theater in Orlando, the Beacham [Theatre]. Today, you’ve got a multiplex. You know, you’ve got 20 little theaters. Nobody talks to anybody, you just go in, and there you go. And you can never get that today. But they thought so much of her movie, after she won the Pulitzer Prize. They decked the lobby of the theaters in Winter Park and Orlando in a Florida backcountry theme. Literally. You know, you could see a possum in a cage, and a raccoon, and moss dripping down, you know. Palmetto bushes, which were cut up and put in there as props. So I remember those things.
Youngers
Wow. Were there—when you were attending school and things, during the times of segregation and things, do you recall anything as far as when those differences came in? Were there any notable things in the Winter Park area or even Seminole County area that you remember as far as that?
L’Heureux
Well, I remember never playing ball against any black boys or African-Americans. Never. You know. They had their own schools. And it was a shame, because they were great athletes. I never interacted with them in high school in any manner. We knew where they were, they knew where we were, and we were friendly to them, you know. But I look back and remember the colored restrooms, where they were marked “colored,” where the African-Americans had to go to separate restrooms.
I remember my dad’s business. He was in the trucking business. And he would hire casual labor every day down in Winter Park in Hannibal Square. And we’d go down there and they’d come up to the door of his car and ask whatever he was paying, and they’d negotiate the pay, and then they’d get in the back seat and go for a day’s labor. When I was out on the trucks with him—because I worked on my dad’s truck from the time I was 12 years old—hauling freight, hauling furniture. We’d go to a diner, and get something to eat sometimes at lunch, and if we didn’t bring our lunch. And the black laborers would have to sit out back. Sit down on the ground out back. And my dad would order a sandwich for them. They would go through the kitchen, go out the back door, and they’d sit and eat it out back. They weren’t allowed in to sit.
Youngers
And they didn’t even really have a dining area?
L’Heureux
No. There was no dining area, even. And we took the bus a lot in those days, from Winter Park to Orlando. I used to go down to Orlando to a bookstore—McVicker’s—go down to the theaters there when I was a small boy—10, 11, 12. On the bus, by myself. If I use “colored,” “blacks,” “African-Americans” —it’s interchangeable, because they called themselves those things at various times. But they would come on the bus, and they’d march right to the back of the bus. And sit, and there’d be no question about it. And if one was sitting and a white woman came on and there was no place for her to sit, they were expected to give up their seat.
Youngers
Wow.
L’Heureux
So I was in the terrible segregation days. Grew up in it. It was terrible. I loathe the fact that it took place. I would like to have interacted with them. I played baseball—sports—in high school. We never played against blacks ever, that I can ever remember.
Youngers
Once they made that change, how did the community react?
L’Heureux
Well, some fought it for a long time, because they always wanted something to lord over people. You know how people are. A lot of people embraced it, were happy about it, and glad it came along. But it was a very begrudging thing. It didn’t happen overnight. We had Brown v. the Board of Education—the lawsuit and the legal argument at the Supreme Court—but it wasn’t like turning a light on or off, you know, all of a sudden. There was a transition period of several years. Several years.
I remember when I was at Stetson—my senior year, I was in charge of homecoming. And we had a black entertainer come from New York for a homecoming dance and a concert. His name was Roy Hamilton, and he was excellent. He wasn’t quite as famous as Johnny Mathis in those days, but this is in the late ‘50s—‘59 or ‘60—and I was in charge of getting him lodging, for he and his wife, and his bass player, and his piano player. And no motel would take him. No motel would take him. And I had to put him up in a couple of houses in the black section of DeLand. And this—this guy was a New York entertainer, he was an RCA Victor recording artist. He was big. Roy Hamilton, back in the ‘50s and ‘60s. And I couldn’t find lodging for him. He drove—drove down from New York and I was so embarrassed. No hotel would take them. So, to answer your question, it was a long process. It didn’t happen overnight.
Youngers
Wow.
L’Heureux
It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?
Youngers
It is. It is. Is there any other things, like those type of events, that you can recall? I mean, I know the history of just this area—they had the freeze, and they had hailstorms, and the fires, and hurricanes, and things.
L’Heureux
Well, hurricanes, yes. I can tell you stories about the hurricanes. The Weather Bureau [National Weather Service] was so embryonic in its stage, and so much in its infancy. We didn’t have good rapport with the Weather Bureau, because they didn’t have good rapport with the storms. And we had our radios in the early days before TV. We had our little Philco radios. And they’d scratch and you could barely hear them sometimes.
And the indicator of hurricanes was not somebody coming on the TV or the radio to tell you, it was the Australian pines. Australian pines were brought to Florida as a windbreak. And also, a windbreak against hurricanes. And also, because they looked kind of pretty in margins of road and along canals and this kind of thing. My dad had Australian pines on our property. Our warehouses were next to our home, because we lived in a rural part of town. And the Australian pines would whoosh and you’d hear them make a sound that was different than just a little storm. The hurricane sound was unmistakable. It was a wail—an actual wail. And we’d hear it, and then we’d say, “There must be a storm coming.” And a lot of times, it’d be a hurricane. It would be a hurricane, and this was the late ‘40s, the early ‘50s. And I can remember some terrible storms that came through Orlando. Rowboats on the street, you know, and the water off, the lights off, for days. But the early warning for hurricanes was so backward, because we didn’t have the technology for it. And we missed school all the time. And it would rain for days when the storms were around. I remember distinctly, storms in the late ‘40s and early ‘50s that were rough that came through here. Trees down, and power out, but we had no notice. It wasn’t like the hurricanes in ‘26 in Miami and ‘28 that came across Lake Okeechobee. When they were there, you knew they were there. But not any notice. And even in the ‘40s and ‘50s, we had almost no notice of hurricanes.
Youngers
Wow. Wow. That’s—kind of makes you wonder what we would do without these things.
L’Heureux
Exactly, today.
Youngers
You were saying earlier too that your father ran a trucking business?
L’Heureux
My dad had a trucking business, and there’s a great story there. He bought an old truck—a 1934 Ford—in New Jersey, where we had our farm. He was in the Coast Guard and almost farmed by night. He farmed with the lights on on[sic] the tractor. He’d farm at night, because we was trying to make a living. And my mother would take the produce and sell it downtown. In an old Pontiac car with a running board, and my sister and I were three, four years old, and we’d go with her.
He bought this truck to transport our belongings from the farmhouse to Florida. My mother inherited this property out near Rock Springs, out near Apopka. And he had money from the sale of the farm. And he built our house that summer. The war was over that summer. And the goods coming in, like [inaudible] nails to build a house were slow. My dad had never built a house. My dad was afraid of nothing. He built a house and not knowing how to do it. He built it. The footers, the concrete block foundation, the rafters—he just built it with the help of two men from town, and had a little money from the sale of the farm.
The summer—and by fall, the money was low, and he had no job. The house was up, we were in the house. So he took the truck down to the railroad station, when the Rollins co-eds were coming in for the year. And in those days, almost nobody drove a car to college. You took the train. Literally. And Rollins was a fancy, expensive school, even in those days. He met somebody down in Winter Park. “I’ve been here all summer. I need a job.” “We built our house. We’re in our house. I need a job now.” He had that truck. The man said, “Why don’t you go down to the train station and walk down through the cars when they stop and tell them you’ll haul trunks to the college—to the dormitories?” He said, “Taxicabs have been doing this for years.”
So my father took his truck down there, and in competition with the taxicab drivers, he walked up and down the train saying, “We’ve got a truck outside to haul your trunk.” So he started hauling trunks to the college for about 10 days, till everybody was down and school was in session, and he was out of work ,because he had worked for 10 days. So he ran an ad in the paper in Winter Park. He had a caption that read, “We will move anything”. And he put it in the paper with a phone number—four digits. You could talk to the operator. And this was right after World War II. And he set up a moving business. And he was in the moving business 28 years.
Youngers
Wow.
L’Heureux
Trucks and warehouses, and that’s how he had his start.
Youngers
Wow, that’s really cool.
L’Heureux
I think so. He had a truck and no job, and he put the truck to work.
Youngers
Wow. And your mom—did she stay home?
L’Heureux
She stayed home and ran the office. And he was in the early years out there in the truck, hauling with everybody else. And then he graduated to giving advice and direction behind the scenes as he got older and his business grew—flourished.
Youngers
Wow, that’s a really cool story.
L’Heureux
I think so.
Youngers
Well, is there anything that you would like to discuss that I haven’t really brought up?
L’Heureux
Well, yes. I guess. Let’s see. I was very fortunate in living as a young boy and young man through probably as wonderful a time in Florida history as there could be. That was from the end of World War II until the early 60s, when all the riots started and all the national trouble with the Vietnam War. There were about 15, 18 years in there that were just marvelous. And I—it was all my grammar school years, my high school years, my college years. It was just a remarkable place to grow up. It was remarkable.
I would ride my bicycle—you are not going to believe this. Nine and 10 years old, I’d ride my bicycle two and a half miles to Downtown Winter Park, go to the police station, and say, “I was going to lock it in one of their little racks. Would they look after it?” I’m telling you the truth. I was taking the bus to Orlando for the day. And I’d get on the bus at age nine or 10, by myself. You know, you never thought about bad people. You never heard of them. And I would go to Orlando on the old bus, go to McVicker’s bookstore and buy a Hardy Boys book. They were popular then. Go to a Saturday matinee and see Roy Rogers and Gene Autry and eat popcorn and Coke. Spend all day in Orlando. Go by the Cub Scout den, the Yowell Drew Ivey’s—a great department store. Look for the next badge I was going to get, or a new hat, or whatever. And come back in the afternoons, after being in Orlando for six or seven hours, claim my bicycle from the police rack, unlock the thing that locked it, and ride home at night, and be gone all day. Nine, 10 years old. I’m telling you the truth. Nobody thought a thing about it.
Youngers
Wow.
L’Heureux
Today, you couldn’t even—I was in grammar school! I remember going once when I was 10 years old to Orlando with a $10 bill for Christmas presents. And I bought my dad a fishing lure at Denmark’s Sporting Goods store, which was a landmark—Denmark’s. I went to the Yowell Drew Ivey’s, and bought my sister a little gift, a Nancy Drew book. Because Nancy Drew was like Hardy Boys. Nancy Drew was for girls, and Hardy Boys was for boys. And I went over to Dickson [&] Ives, went up the floor in an elevator, and bought my mother a nice handkerchief. And I had lunch down there. I had bought a gift for my sister, my father, my mother. And went to the movies and came home and still had change from the $10 bill.
Youngers
Oh, my goodness.
L’Heureux
I remember it, I was about 10 or 11 years old.
Youngers
Wow.
L’Heureux
And it wasn’t that I was particularly brave or anything. It was just that you didn’t have any worries. Nobody accosted you or anything. There was never any trouble. I’d go to Orlando alone for the day.
Youngers
Wow. I don’t even go to Orlando alone right now.
L’Heureux
Exactly. Exactly.
Youngers
So, you’d mentioned too that you had served some time in the army?
L’Heureux
Yes.
Youngers
Did you serve in the war?
L’Heureux
No, no. I’m not particularly proud of that, but it wasn’t my fault. I had the wrong age. I was too young for [the] Korea[n War] and too old for [the] Vietnam [War]. Now, I would have been old enough for Vietnam, but I was married by then, had a child by then, and I didn’t go.
But I signed in the Army Reserves when I was in high school. I went to Reserve meetings when I was a junior in high school. And senior. That’s pretty young to be out there—a soldier with men. I was only 16. And then I went in the active duty after high school. And got out—and we only went six months to active duty, and we were in Reserves seven and a half years.
And I was going to go to Davidson College in North Carolina, because some friends went and I was accepted there. I came back in January, after six months in the service, from June to January, and some friends talked me into going to Stetson for just a semester. Because if I didn’t go to school, I was going to be on my dad’s trucks hauling furniture. I promise you—I hated to go home on the weekends form college, because I’m going to be on his truck working. So I said, “Going to college is better than working on Dad’s trucks.” So I went to Stetson and liked it and never went to Davidson. I went on through Stetson the whole time. But that’s how that worked out.
We used to—when I finally got a car at Stetson, I could get a tank of gas a week if I’d come home and see Mom and Dad. It was only 34 miles from DeLand to Winter Park. And I would run the gas down to near the E-mark, because I knew how far it was. There was a Pure station in our neighborhood—an old Pure station—and I could get a tank of gas. And of course, I always bought my dirty linens home in a big duffel bag for Mother, you know. I would, time and time and time again. One time, I got down to Casselberry, and I thought that I was going to run out of gas. And I pumped nine cents. Nine cents of gas. And the gasoline was about 32 cents a gallon. I got enough to get me home. Nine cents!
Youngers
Oh, my goodness.
L’Heureux
There are more, you know, people that are older—a hundred years old—remember the early 1900s, which is even more archaic than what I’m talking about. But you asked me what I remember. That, from end of World War II until the Vietnam War, America was at its zenith, its power, its influence, its peacetime.
And it was a marvelous time to grow up in Florida. Florida was booming. The tourism was starting. The [Lockheed] Martin Company came to Orlando. The Cape [Canaveral] was starting to make some rumbles, and Orlando was really growing. I know in my graduating class—and my sister’s—we were about the same size, the year before me. We were 56, 57, 58. We’re all about the same. Two or three years later, the class size had doubled, because of the Martin Company and all the Allied Aerospace Company [Allied Aerospace, Inc.]. People were flooding into Florida in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s. But it was a great place to grow up. I miss it. It’s gone. It’s gone.
Youngers
I can understand that. Do you remember when they first built [Walt] Disney [World?
L’Heureux
Oh, yes. I remember “B.D.”—“Before Disney”. Oh, I do. I do. I went into the brokerage business and met a man who made a lot of money by being on the inside looking out, and bought land as a speculator. He ran a service station in Beverly Hills. And he owned it. He was blue collar, but he owned it, and all the stars would gas up there. And he flew an aircraft, along with a couple of his buddies. Had a little piper cup group. And the word is, that Disney was coming east. They had Disneyland, and they were coming east, and they thought it was going to be St. Louis[, Missouri]. Proved not to be St. Louis, because Mr. [Adolphus] Busch from Busch—Anheuser-Busch [Companies, Inc.], heard something that they weren’t going to serve beer, and he said something at a big gala unveiling, “you can’t come to St. Louis and not sell beer.” And Walt Disney didn’t like that. So St. Louis was crossed off.
The next option was either Ocala or Orlando. So this man from California that owned an old Standard Oil gas station—he was a thousand-aire, he wasn’t a millionaire. He knew some of the stars. And they leaked that this area might be it. So he and three of his buddies flew—took a month off—flew piper cubs[?] to Orlando Executive Airport—the old airport—checked into a motel, hired Kelly [Service, Inc.] girls to post themselves in the various county seats—Kissimmee, Tavares, Sanford, Orlando—to see if anything unusual was being recorded— anything deeds or anything. They ate four meals a day, trying to eavesdrop scuttlebutt. They got their hair cut every week whether they needed it or not. They got their shoes shined. They wanted to be where scuttlebutt was, where gossip was, because they were trying to bankroll the buying of land if Disney was going to buy in Orlando. They’d meet every night and confer. “How’d your day go?” “Where’d you go?” “Oh, I ate four meals in restaurants,” and this and this and this. And they’d move the Kelly girls around every day. The girl that was in Orlando would be in Sanford and then the next day she’d be in Tavares so she wouldn’t be suspicious. And they had a map they put across their bed in the motels there. “Where were you?” It was like a war. They were trying to find out if Disney was coming here. So then money was going.
This is a true story. He gave this story in my living room. In fact, I did business with him. He’s dead now. I shouldn’t use his name. The money was up, and darn it, we didn’t find it. Nothing. Because it was really—only three people in town knew it. The man in charge of The Orlando Sentinel, the man in charge of First [inaudible] Bank of Orlando. I mean, it was like keeping the A-bomb secret. Because Disney knew the prices would escalate.
So here’s the story. And it’s true. They checked out of their motel rooms. They got their planes at Orlando Executive Airport. And they had flown during the month around to see what they could see from the air too. They flew out to present Lake Buena Vista that had a wind sock little airstrip there owned by a family-kind of a mom-and-pop business. Little wind sock, you know. And piper cubs[?] would land. A place to gas up. So they landed there to gas up. It was a two day flight to California. They were flying to Texas and then on to California. Little piper cubs[?], they go about 120 miles an hour, tops.
Youngers
Right.
L’Heureux
There was an old boy there at the little airstrip with an old cracker hat on, piece of straw in his mouth. You know, and he was making conversation with them. And they were glum, because they were there and spent a month’s salary and nothing. And this guy—and this is a true story. He told it in my living room. You could hear a pin drop. This guy said, “What’s going on around here? Mr. Brown down here, he’s got his farm for sale. Mr. Smith down here, he’s under option with some other people, and Mr. Miller down here, he’s selling out too.” “And Mr. C.”—I’ll call him “Mr. C.,” because he’s gone. I want to protect him. He said, “Oh, really? Oh really, really? People around here auctioning their farms? Yeah, we don’t know what’s going on. It’s crazy over here right now.” Well, it was at Bay Lake, right by where it was. And they came in and made some deals with farmers under the rug, and so Mr. C. and his buddies got back in the airplanes, went back to the motel, which was on Colonial Drive—across from a place called Ronnie’s Restaurant, which was famous—checked back into the motel, and redoubled their efforts, and found it.
Youngers
Oh, my goodness.
L’Heureux
And they begged, borrowed, and stole every buck they could from California—their friends, their relatives. And in two short years, they were all multi-millionaires. The guy at the gas-up station at the little family-owned airstrip spilled the beans.
Youngers
Wow.
L’Heureux
Now, that’s a true story, and isn’t that a great story? Yeah, it’s funny, but…
Youngers
It’s great that that’s how you find out stuff, though. It might not be in the middle of the city. It might just be…
L’Heureux
That’s right. They had Kelly girls they hired. They were everywhere. Listening—listening in the corridors of courthouses. All of them got fat, he said, because they were going in every restaurant, every diner, trying to sit and hear something, you know. They got their shoes shined when they glistened, you know. Got their haircut too often. They just wanted to be places to get gossip. Because they’re trying to bankroll big money. Thirty days—nothing. They leave town, they gas up, and the guy at the place spills the beans. And he said, “It was the greatest thing he had ever heard.” He said, “Oh, really? This, Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown?” That probably was not the names, but those were the names he used. It was somebody that was selling out to Disney. And this was all prior to the announcement. So they went back, and said, “We found it.” And it was Bay Lake. And they found it. And they searched for 30 days and couldn’t find it.
Youngers
Well, now, did it really help the area? Initially it brought in a lot of income, and…
L’Heureux
Well, I’m an environmentalist. You know, my books have that theme. I love nature. I love the outdoors. And yes, it’s done a lot of good, but I like the old Florida. I write about the old Florida. The backcountry roads, the way it was, you know. The animals. Not that we had them running loose, because we had cattle fencing and all, but I guess it’s helped. If you’re on I[nterstate Highway]-4 in gridlock, and a tractor-trailer’s across the way and you’re two hours late for an appointment, you’re not liking it. There was no turning back once Disney came. It was just—it was just frantic. It was the most frantic thing I’d ever seen. The people coming in here with jobs, and the growth, it was just unbelievable. I like the old Florida. I like the old days.
Youngers
Wow.
L’Heureux
But that story about Mr. C. is a true story. I did business with him and we had him out to the house one night for beer and popcorn, and had some of my friends over, about 10 of us. Maybe a little more. And we all sat around listening to him tell that story. And that’s just a fantastic story.
Youngers
It’s hard to imagine what Florida would be like without that aspect of it, especially Central Florida.
L’Heureux
Well, it would have grown despite Disney. It was growing early. The Cape—the aerospace industry really took off after the war and in the early ‘50s, it would have grown without Disney. People had pensions. They had retirements for the first time. And they wanted to get out of the cold. So it had started to grow long before Disney. But not at the rate that Disney brought after that. When they came, it was much different than it would have been. It would have been a gradual increase. It wouldn’t be like it is today. But it still would have been a very big state. So we can’t blame Disney totally.
Youngers
No. Well, if you don’t have anything else.
L’Heureux
Stephanie, I think this has been fun. And enjoyable. And to learn that you came from the Okeechobee area, which I know also. And I went to college with many people from the towns around Lake Okeechobee—La Belle—also and I so enjoyed being interviewed by you today.
Youngers
Well, good. I’m glad.
L’Heureux
Thank you.
Hazen
Today is March 7th, 2014. I am interviewing Mr. Henry "”Hank” [Carl] Okraski, who spent 32 years in government service, 10 of which were working in the Senior Executive Service. He was the Director of Research and Engineering and the Deputy Technical Director for Naval Air Warfare Training Systems Division, or NAWCTSD.
My name is Kendra Hazen and with me is Amanda Hill. We are interviewing Mr. Okraski as a part of the [UCF Community] Veterans History Project, and as research for the Lone Sailor Memorial Project. We are recording the interview at the National Center for Simulation Offices, located in the Partnership III building, um, in UCF’s [University of Central Florida] Research Parkway in Orlando, Florida.
Hazen
Mr. Okraski, will you start us off by telling us when and where you were born?
Okraski
Yes. First off, Kendra, thank you very much for the opportunity to speak to you today. You’re really representing a worthwhile cause, and I appreciate the opportunity. I was born in Utica, New York, in 1936—January 22nd, actually.
HazenThank you. Can you tell us a little bit about what your parents did while you were growing up?
Okraski
Yes. Uh, they both worked actually. I was a latchkey child. I think one of the first. And they worked in a florist—a wholesale florist enterprise. My mother cut flowers. My father hauled coal and, uh, manure and all sorts of things like that to keep the, uh, flowers growing.
So I was pretty much on my own. I had, um, the run of the neighborhood, if you will. Actually, I wasn’t born on the “other” side of the tracks. I was born on the tracks, because the railroad cars went right down the street where I lived, right next to my bedroom.
Hazen
I’ll bet that was a little loud.
Okraski
It was. At like two in the morning, they would be bumping the cars back and forth and, uh—and it was, uh—I got used to it after a while.
Hazen
Did you grow up with brothers and sisters?
Okraski
No. I was the only child.
Hazen
Can you tell us a little about your early education?
Okraski
Yes. I was, uh, trained by nuns. I attended the St. Patrick’s Grammar School for eight years, um, where I learned the value of discipline and, uh, how to pay attention in class. And I really experienced the nuns, um, caring for us. They wanted us to get ahead. I was really appreciative for that. So I went to St. Patrick’s School for eight years, and then I went to Utica Free Academy, which is the local high school in Utica, for four years. Graduated from there in 1953. I worked a year thereafter and then when on to Clarkson University which is in Upstate New York—in Potsdam, New York.
Hazen
Um, and during that time, did you have any members of your family who were in any of the [U.S.] Armed Services?
Okraski
I had uncles. Several of my uncles were in, uh, in the service. Um, one of my uncles, uh, John—he was at Guadalcanal[, Solomon Islands]. He was in the 1st Marine Corps Division. earned three Purple Hearts while he was there. He’s still alive. I communicate with him just about every week.
And I had other uncles that were there in the South Pacific and in Europe. Um, some—one was in Normandy[, France]—[the] Normandy invasion. So yes. I’ve come from a family—now, my father was not in the Armed Services. He was working on a farm under the agriculture deferment in those days.
Hazen
Um, what branches were they in? or were they all in the same branch?
Okraski
No. I had one in the [U.S.] Army, one in the [U.S.] Navy and one in the [U.S.] Marine Corps. And I also had another one in the Navy too, who was a deep sea diver. Yeah. with the original bubble heads where they wore the large thing. And, uh, he would repair ships, uh, in Newfoundland[, Canada]. Rather cold, you might say.
Hazen
Um, whatever you were going through Clarkson University, what was your specialty? What was your area of specialty?
Okraski
I majored in Electrical Engineering and I graduated with a Bachelor’s [Degree] in Electrical Engineering.
Hazen
And then from there, what was your first professional experience?
Okraski
Yes. Uh, I was recruited from college to LINK Aviation [Devices, Inc.]. LINK Aviation was located in Binghamton, New York, and they were manufacturers of simulators—primarily flight simulators, at the time. and I always had somewhat of an interest in flight simulators. I might relate to you the first simulator that I ever had?
Hazen
Mmhmm.
Okraski
Okay. Um, I was 11 years old and I would spend summers on a farm. and all we had was radio for entertainment. There was no television, or we didn’t have any movies or anything close by. So radio was the big thing. Every day, I would listen to Jack Armstrong, the All-American Boy. And they had one offering there that if you send, uh—I think it was 15 cents and a box top from Wheaties—they would send you a simulator. So I got the money. I got the Wheaties and I put it together and send it off. And I waited and waited. Every time the rural post delivery man would come by he’d say, “No, sonny. not today.” And nuts. I’d go back. Every day I’d wait for him. Finally, it came and I opened it up and it was a cardboard instrument panel that replicated an aircraft cockpit. It had a control stick. It had a throttle and it had two rudder pedals simulating the aircraft.
So what we did—all of us youngsters, you know, part of the, uh, Jack Armstrong squadron—we would sit on our chairs and set up our cockpits and then listen to the radio. And he would say, “Today we’re going to be flying over the jungles of South America. Look down. You can see the river.” I would look down and I could see that river. You know, because in those days, we said radio was the theatre of the mind. And it really was. We used our imaginations and we could visualize things that weren’t even there. So that was my first simulator. That wetted my appetite. So, then when LINK Aviation recruited me, I was very happy, because I would be working with simulators again.
Hazen
What exactly were your responsibilities when you were at LINK Aviator?
Okraski
Yes. Uh, with LINK, they started us out in, uh, Field Service Organization. So I attended a short course learning how to maintain and operate one of their flight simulators. They called it a “C11” or “Device 2F-2”3 in those days. And it was a basic one seater flight instrument trainer that was used in primary, uh, flight training for the Air Force in my case. And where pilots would learn how to fly instruments. how to do instrument landing. Uh, also how to react to various failures that might occur in the aircraft. So I would help the pilots learn how to go through emergency procedures to save themselves and to save the aircraft. So that was my first job. It entailed traveling throughout the, uh, Southwest, and that was in Oklahoma and Texas—uh, in that area where there are several Air Force bases. And I had an opportunity to visit and work with the various pilots or wannabe pilots in those days. So, that was my first job, Kendra.
Hazen
How long were you there? How long were you with LINK Aviation?
Okraski
Well, I was with LINK Aviation for about four and a half years. Um, what happened was I did a short stint in the Army. I had to go through basic training, um, but I essentially went back to the inactive reserves.[1]
And then LINK transferred me to a number of places, but the most memorable one, I guess, was to Thule [Air Base], Greenland where I spent six months one night. It was dark for the entire period and I was working then on the F-102 aircraft simulator. And so I would help train a pilot, set up all the simulations and train the pilots, um, to do air to air combat maneuvering and air to air intercepts. And it was very, very important, because it was co-located with the ballistic missile early warning site located there at Thule, Greenland, whose antenna was essentially affixed at the Soviet Union at that time, ‘cause we were under, you know, Cold War conditions. So having our pilots trained was very important in the event that anything should happen and they had to scramble. They were in a position to, uh, perform as they were trained.
Hazen
Do you remember what year that was, when you..?
Okraski
Around 1960.
Hazen
Um, and then after your four and a half years with LINK, where did you go next?
Okraski
Yeah. I—I traveled a little bit more with LINK, and I took a job with the Naval Training Device Center, which was located in Port Washington, Long Island[, New York]. And that’s where I took a position as, um, a GS-11 electrical engineer working in the field support of Naval Aviation simulators. It was in a facility that was called a [Gould-]Guggenheim Estate at one time. It was a castle. Actually, it was a castle that was created that was by the Guggenheims and the Gould family years before. So it was quite a thrill to come to work and go into the castle. And, um, it was on an estate that overlooked Long Island Sound and several, several acres. It was beautiful. And our next door neighbor, who—Kendra, you may not recall—was somebody called Perry Como, the singer. So he lived next door—very casual individual and, uh, we would wave as we went on to work in our castle.
Hazen
A castle. Um, what kinds of things were the projects that were being worked on? In addition to what you did, what are some of the different projects that were being worked on there?
Okraski
It was an interesting time, because originally the Naval Training Device Center, which began as the Special Devices Task by Admiral [Luiz] de Florez in 1941, um, expanded its mission to include more than just aviation training. In the beginning, he focused on flight simulators—in the LINK trainer actually grew out of some of the initiatives that were going on there and, uh, Luiz de Florez took the LINK trainer and, uh, modified it for gunnery training. Uh, and other applications that went beyond aviation. They began to get into surface Navy, land warfare, undersea warfare, simulators for all those kinds of things. But the primary thrust was in aviation. So aircrafts such as the P2V [Physical-to Virtual] —oh gosh—the F-3, the A-7, the A-3 intruder. Um, all those aircraft had simulators that were built and being delivered and used by the pilots’ aircrew, uh, to train out in the field.
Hazen
How long were you there in Long Island with them?
Okraski
Yeah. I was there until 1965. 1965. Well, let me back up about six months from there. Earlier, I had bought a house. My wife and I had bought a house out in North Port[, New York], and it was a really, really nice house. It was about all we could afford too. But it was near the water. It was a beautiful place.
Six months later the commanding officer gets on the loud speaker and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, you’re next home will be in Orlando, Florida.” I said, “What? Next home? I already have a home.” But nevertheless, uh, we did move to Orlando, Florida. It was probably the best thing that ever happened to us at the time. We were—it was the beginning of a tremendous growth of simulation and a wonderful career opportunity for me and my friends and co-workers that moved here. And also a wonderful environment for my family to live and grow.
Hazen
Did you know anything about the area before you got down here?
Okraski
No, but they allowed us two visits and at that time in 1965. In 1965, uh, Orlando was a sleepy little town in the orange groves. Uh, we had Gatorland, I think, and, uh, Cypress Gardens.
There was no [Walt] Disney [World]. There was no SeaWorld, Universal [Orlando Resort], etc., etc. It was a sleepy little town. And it was very enjoyable to go out on Sundays and look at homes for sale and, um, take in some of the natural beauties. Some of the—like the Wekiva Springs, uh, which was—was open—open to the public. And there were other springs. Silver Springs [State Park], etc., etc. And the beaches were so close, so it was very, very nice. Very, uh, unspoiled you might say.
Hazen
And when you moved down, um, was it called? It was called the National Center for Simulation yet?
Okraski
No. That’s a whole other outgrowth. Yeah. The Naval Training Device Center changed its name about two or three times.
Hazen
Mmhmm.
Okraski
To where it is today—Naval Air Warfare System—Naval Air Warfare Systems Training System Division. Uh, so we went through an evolution.
Hazen
So when you moved down, what was it?
Okraski
It was still the Naval Training Device Center.
Hazen
Okay.
Okraski
At that time.
Hazen
And what resources was here for them?
Okraski
Nothing.
Hazen
Nothing?
Okraski
Well, the only thing that was here—and this is kind of amusing. You wonder how these things happen. These relocations cause we’re always faced with things like BRAC [Base Realignment and Closure] and justifying movements and what have you. But the truth to be known, a lot of these decisions are totally politically based and what happened was an Air Force activity moved out of the Air Force base here in Orlando. Not McCoy [Air Force Base], but where Baldwin Park is today. Okay. there was an Air Force Reconnaissance Squadron located there. They were relocated and I think part of it was even disestablished. So there was a need to fill the vacuum.
Well, the powers to be—the political powers to be—got together and decided that this little activity up in Port Washington, Long Island, would feel much better if they were located in Florida. So they moved us to Orlando beginning in, uh, 1965. The, uh—many of the buildings were old barracks. Um, they were not air-conditioned. Um, we lived in that kind of a situation where—this was before computers, where you did your own memos and that. So we would draft memos in pen and ink and your sweat would drip on the paper and run as you’re trying to write the memos to, ah, your—your—for business purposes. So it was rather a primitive existence. Although once the Navy got there, they began to refurbish the buildings and we got air conditioning, which worked most of the time. So that made us a lot more comfortable.
But an interesting thing about Orlando too, uh, from a historical stand point, um, when the, um, Normandy invasion was being planned, General [Dwight D.] Eisenhower came to Orlando and actually mocked up the Normandy Beach in one of the orange groves. In other words, he created an—an, uh—an emulation, if you will, of the Normandy Beach head, and he would position ships and whatever on this false floor that essentially was cement looking like the Normandy Beach head. and he would, with his generals, plan their attack moving objects around and developing strategies that they would follow. So that was in Orlando long before the Navy or anybody else got down here to talk about simulation. Can I give you one more historical event?
Hazen
Certainly, yeah.
Okraski
I think it was—the year was 1935 or so. I’d have to verify that, but Luiz De Florez, for whom the building is named out here—the Navy building is the De Florez complex—the Luiz De Florez building. Okay. And as I mentioned earlier, he got simulation off the ground particularly for the Navy beginning in Washington, D.C., but before that, uh, he was involved in the in oil—in oil production. the crack and process and all that. Well, he was honored for his accomplishments—he was a civilian though at that time—uh, by a number of people. one of which was Rollins College here in Winter Park. So he was given an honorary Doctorate degree from Rollins College the same year that Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, who as you well know, is the author of The Yearling, and Cross Creek, and a few other wonderful novels. So that brought simulation down here again back in the [19]30s. If you believe in pre-destiny or something, you begin to wonder if there isn’t some connection. So, those are a couple other historical points relating to the Orlando area having to do with simulation.
Hazen
And kind of the birth of the idea of it being here.
Okraski
Yes. Yeah.
Hazen
Um, you talked a little bit about what was here when you got here, and the buildings. Can you tell us a little bit about those early days? What were kind of your primary responsibilities when you first got down here? What were some of the main projects that were being worked on?
Okraski
Sure. Um, I, uh—when I came down, I was assigned to the Maintenance Engineering Division. It doesn’t have to do with changing light bulbs or anything like that. What we actually had to do was plan for the logistic support of the simulators, because it was very critical to keep the simulators operating when they’re being used by our pilots, aircrew, and other ships crew, etc. So we had to make sure that they were reliable, maintainable, and we provided an adequate logistic support package to go with each and every simulator that went out the door. And our industry was pretty much, uh, on board when they came to designing in reliability, maintainability, and providing a good logistic support package.
So one of my jobs was to develop the criteria for logistic support and I wrote a document called “Bulletin 40-1,” which identified all the logistic support requirements for simulators that stayed in use for probably 20 years or so that people may even use parts of it today. It was important to do that.
Now, in the process of moving down here, a number of people didn’t want to leave Long Island. They were particularly—they were really happy just to stay there. And I, in turn—I was offered a job at the Space program at the time too. But I elected to come to Florida and stay with our parent organization anyway. So when a number of people didn’t come, it left some room at the top. So that gave me some nice promotion opportunities that I took advantage of and so going, you know, then from a division head to a department head to associate director, etc. I think the move down here kind of enabled that progression quite nicely.
So what I did is—I had a division and we worked very closely with the engineers in designing our systems such that they were maintainable and supportable. And we—the program began to grow quite a bit. Word got around that, “Hey, this simulation stuff must be pretty good. It must be saving a lot of lives and it’s not costing as much as putting airplanes in the air or ships at sea or submarines under the sea.” So the Army—well, they had joined us earlier with what was called the “Army Participation Group,” and, uh, the simulation caught on with them and they began to grow very large. Then the Marine Corps—they came on board. Then the Air Force came on board. So what was just a single entity down here in the Navy became pretty much a joint operation. Joint with a small “j” not a large “J,” ‘cause we’re not really a “joint” organization. We’re, uh—we operate jointly though. And it was amazing of the synergy that was achieved by working together. You know, an engineer working on a tank simulator working alongside an engineer working on an air craft simulator could share technology and experiences and know-how, such that the customers were getting more for their money essentially than if an individual service were doing a procurement of a simulator. And that continues today. Maybe even more so today, because of the large number, the large acquisition program we have here, um, at the, uh, what we call now “Team Orlando.”
Hazen
After it was called the Naval Training Device Center here? What was then the next step?
Okraski
Well, it was renamed Naval Training Systems Center, Naval Training Materials Center, uh, and Naval Training Systems Center, and then it went to, um, Naval Air Warfare Center. The reason for that is that, uh, we changed responsibilities on—we changed, uh, the organization that we reported to over the years. In the beginning, you know, it was like the Bureau of Aeronautics, and then it was Chief [of] Naval Research, and then it went to Chief [of] Naval Materials ,and then to the Naval Air Systems Command—so away and back again. So every time it moved, people felt, “Well, we gotta change the name of that.” So that happened, you know, over several years. so the stationary was taking a hitting. You know, in changing our names and who we reported to over the years, but it appears now that we have a very stable organization under the Naval Air Systems Command and our organization continues to grow down here and they’re doing wonderful things. Saving time, lives, and money every day. See, that’s the beauty of really working with an organization like this, because when you go home at night you realize that you touched the lives of every solider, sailor, Marine, and Coast Guard. You know, and through the efforts of what you’re doing here. You can’t beat that for job satisfaction.
Hazen
Can you give us some specific examples of simulations that happen? Like what does it look like? How does that work? What kinds of things do you have to do on the front end to make it possible?
Okraski
Uh, yes. Um, you know [laughs], I’m not gonna do this. You know, it’s all in here. That was commercial.
Hazen
[laughs]
Okraski
No. I actually—kidding aside—it all begins with the requirements. It all begins with the requirements from the, um, the parent system. Like if it’s an aircraft that you want to build a simulator for, uh, you examine the aircraft. you examine the tasks that have to be conducted by the air crew. And given those tasks, then you can select the media—what media is best to teach. Train those particular tasks. There are some that deal with, like, decision making. Others are procedural and each and every media kinda has their own strength, you know, with which each of the tasks that have been identified.
So normally it goes through some form of task analysis of the operational system and then from there you come up with the media. Uh, you identify the behavioral objectives, come up with the media, and then go about writing the specifications and statements of work for the training system that you intend to have procured or built. So our engineers spend a lot of time writing specification statements of work delineating exactly what the simulator has to look like.
Let’s take for example: what would a flight simulator consist of? Okay. First of all, you’ve got the—the enclosure where the pilot would sit. So you’ve got to make sure all the instruments—all the nobs, and controls, whatever—operate just like the real airplane. So you have to make some decisions how you gonna design that and becomes a systems engineering process to do that. So you design that enclosure with the proper configurations. Then you decide, Well, am I gonna have a visual display? So that the pilot can look out the windscreen and see the real world. If so, there are several choices you have as to what kind of visual system you would put on this. So let’s say you narrow it down to the visual system—maybe it’s a widescreen. The pilot looks out, can look 180 degrees perhaps, and see even through the periphery what’s happening in the real world. And this—the intent is to have it move and behave just like it would if you were flying the aircraft.
Okay. what else do we need? Well, we need some computers to make this thing work. So you get a computing system. You go through that whole exercise again. What’s the proper size, speed, etc. for the computer? Then you say, “Well, should we have motion or not? Should we tilt and move this pilot?” We go through that same process to come up with the motion system. Then you have things we call like “control loading,” and then like when the pilot moves the control stick. Does it feel right? Does it feel like the airplane? Is it, uh, hydraulic, or is it force-fed or whatever—make these kinds of decisions depending on what your requirements are.
So what you do is you take all these components and you integrate them together and you come up with a training system that replicates the function, um—the functions and usually the configuration of the system that you’re trying to simulate. I mean, a true testimony to how well we’ve done our job is when a pilot comes out of a simulator and he or she is draped with sweat and they say, “That was god-awful.” And then you know you’ve achieved some realness, because what we’re looking for here. And, uh, I think the amusement people say it very nicely—is we’re suspending disbelief for a little while. Because you know you’re in a simulator, but if you get all engrossed in the task at hand. You can forget that it’s a simulator—you begin to think that it’s real. And that’s what we want, because then you can train people effectively. You can make decisions under stress even though you’ve created the stress artificially. So that’s kinda how you put it—that’s what a flight simulator would look like. Then you have all sorts of other simulators, uh, besides just aviation, submarines, you might want to teach people how to control a submarine. You know, the driving aspects of it or the weapons system piece, fire control, etc., all those have to be integrated into the overall system. There are full-up systems, there are part-task trainers, entire families of training devices. I’m giving you a crash course here in a very short period of time.
Hazen
That’s perfect.
Okraski
Okay.
Hazen
That’s exactly what I was hoping for. Um, I think you touched a little bit on this next question just through some of those examples that you said but what is the mission—the mission statement of NAWCTSD?
Okraski
Well, see, I’ve been out of there now for a while, because I retired in 1994. Um, but the mission is—and I can just sort of paraphrase—I believe it is to be the principle agent for the acquisition research and logistic support of—of training simulators for the, uh—the Navy and the other services as a side. Something to that effect. But it is—they are the principle activity within the Navy for procuring simulators.
Hazen
And, um, can you tell me a little bit about your time at NAWCTSD? What were some of, uh, your major projects?
Okraski
Sure.
Hazen
And what happened on your watch when you were here?
Okraski
Yeah., I’d love to, ‘cause we, uh, you know—we have a road of accomplishment, I think, over those years while I was here that I’m quite proud of the people that were able to make some real breakthroughs in technology and satisfy the war fighter and the warrior in a way, in a manner, that hadn’t been done before.
I’ll give ya one example: Um, the MILES system, which is the Multiple Integrated Laser Engagement System, was essentially developed in our laboratory at NAWCTSD by a team. The team was headed by a gentleman by the name of Al Marshall. Al Marshall had a better idea on how to teach weapon—team—weapons team engagement and that was the use of lasers. Um, eye safe and totally safe lasers, as opposed to using live ammunition out in the field. So he came up with the whole concept of outfitting soldiers with the laser detectors and this was really the first laser tag, if you will, but it was for the military. He was a Navy engineer doing some work for the Army and the Marine Corps went and bought the MILES system also. So it was a tri-service initiative kicked off by one little team, if you will, working in the, uh, in our laboratory under the Office of Naval Research, uh, task.
Some other things that we did, uh, other than the just the technology growth and the improvement in the fidelity of simulation. You know, visual systems have gotten to be really, really good when it comes to realism, uh, as is motion for that matter. Now, while I was there too, we toyed with the idea of developing deployable trainers. You know, we felt, “Gee, why do we always have to bring people into the school house, put them in a simulator, and then they get deployed out to sea?” And by the time they come back, some of the skills have already perished. I mean, they’re perishable skills to some degree. Why not put the trainers out there where they are?
So along came the whole idea of deployable simulators and mission rehearsal simulators that could be deployed, put on board aircraft carriers and other installations that are closer to the squadrons and the people that actually use them. So, uh, the deployable simulators, I thought, was a really neat technology that was like the next—next energy level above what we had been doing in the past. And—and the same is true in so many other areas too, where a level of realism has increased, uh, tremendously too.
For example—his happened after my watch—so the, um, battle stations 21—the simulator up at Great Lakes where they brought together the entertainment world along with the simulation—military simulation world—and they built a training device for recruits—Navy recruits— that essentially forms the part of their graduation. Their last day. It’s sort of like a hell week, but only compressed into one day, where they’re able to simulate fires on board ship, casualties, injured people, leaks in the bulkhead—all simulated—but like with real water and what looks to be like flames. Again, borrowing on the Disney magic and any other theme parks that are here. And it became so—it’s so realistic, in fact, that it’s hard to replicate what they’ve done up there.
Another, uh, thing that we did, way back when—or “back in the day,” as they say today—was pier-side training along the same notion of, you know, why bring people in to a classroom, or why go to sea and train all the time, uh, because that that can be expensive. We came up with the pier-side trainers which essentially are, um—well, they’re trailer-based simulations. More like stimulators than simulators. But anyway, we take these trailers, and we plug them into a ship that’s tied up pier-side, and through cables and running alongside and into the ship. we’re able to generate signals, put them into the ship, so that the people that are at their operating stations see everything as though they’re out at sea. We can create targets in that trailer. You know, create targets and threats and then the people in their battle station. or in their normal working stations, they can look at their radars, their sonars, their fire control, and they see targets like they’re at sea and they give commands and they run through the exercise as though they are out at sea. So that was a family of pier-side trainers that started to be quite successful.
And then the next step was imbedded training where we were able to imbed some training features into the actual parent system, whether it be an aircraft or a ship. I know one particular radar, for example, that when they go out at sea they can generate targets and practice radar movements simulating those targets that are out there. There are no targets in the water, but they—the ship’s crew—think that there is, because we can generate those and they look at their scopes, the water, and they see actual targets that aren’t real. So, you know, tech, and…
This this happened outside of my experience at NAWCTSD, but it began at NAWCTSD, and that’s the whole notion of using virtual reality for training. Um, one of the things that Dr. Hayes—Dr. Bob Hayes—had a project with his team called “V Sub,” to where they simulated the gentlemen in the submarine at the conning tower that was steering a submarine through a canal or channel, say. And they did that through virtual reality. They would put the head-mounted display on the individual and that individual would see the banks of the canal, would see other ships, beacons, markers. and then through a headset communicate with what would’ve been the people steering the submarine when in actuality it was a voice recognition system that was taking action based on the commands being given by the individual. So—and that was a very, very neat, neat program.
And later on, after I retired and I—I worked, uh, with a company General Dynamics—actually Veridian, at the time. Um, I was like a support contractor to them—came up with this notion of maybe we can do something for deaf and hearing-impaired kids using that same technology. At that time Congressman [Ira William “Bill”] McCollum[, Jr.] was very active and interested in what we’re doing, and he was able to get some support money for us to build a virtual reality system for Lake Sybelia Elementary School up in Maitland. There they have a high percentage of deaf and hearing-impaired children, and what initiated this was the principal coming to one of our NCS [National Center for Simulation] meetings.
At the time, I believe I was chairman of the board at NCS and we got all through with our meeting and it was an open meeting. He said, “Yes, sir. I’m, um, a principal of Lake Sybelia Elementary School. What can you do to help us?” “What’s your problem, sir?” He says, “Here’s my problem. We have a large group of deaf and hearing-impaired kids and our teachers spend most of their time with living skills—teaching them how to do very simple things. They don’t have time to get into reading and arithmetic and things they’re supposed to be learning. What can you do to help us?”
So we moved out and we got all the support we could. We put together a team. We got some money and we did build a virtual reality system. and the kids loved it, because they would get immersed in the system. And we simulated, for example, the question of how to cross the street safely. So we would simulate trucks going by, so they could see them and we even had the odor of diesel so they knew it was a truck and a little bit of rumble, because we fixed the seat so it would vibrate. And, uh, so they learned to go to the cross-walk and go through the green light and whatever. We had stranger danger, danger stranger with an intruder coming in the classroom—in the classroom—on the school grounds. and, uh, we taught them what to do if they saw a stranger that didn’t look good. We taught them how to, uh, go to and order in a fast food restaurant.
Many times these kids—they’re not looking for recognition. They’re not looking for attention. so if they order the wrong thing usually they’ll just take it and eat it—whatever it is—or if they get the wrong change back, they’re not gonna make a thing out of it. They just by and large don’t want to be recognized like that. So we taught them how to go to a fast food restaurant and order. We gave them the menu. We told them how to order. They made change and we gave it back to them and whatever. We did that. We did fire in the home. How to get out of the building if it’s on fire, etc. So we taught them all those things using that technology of virtual reality and, to me, that one probably one of the most rewarding projects that I ever got involved with.
Hazen
That’s really cool.
Okraski
Yeah. Yeah. Fun too. Like I tell people, I never worked a day in my life. And that’s true. if you enjoy what you’re doing, you never will work a day in your life.
Hazen
One of my questions is about challenges. In creating the different simulations for—I guess it’s kind of a broad question—what are some kind of reoccurring challenges that you come into when you go to put together one of these simulations?
Okraski
Well, of course, it’s—we always think in terms of cost and schedule and performance, and cost is always an issue. Particularly, if you’re dealing in an area where you cannot define precisely, exactly what you want, and so there’s opportunities there for some, some, uh, you know, movement within that—you know, feasible window of opportunity. So many times cost-growth is an issue—trying to keep the cost within the budget.
And the same is true with time. Technology changes so rapidly, and usually you want the most current technology in your system. So there might be some delays attributed to that and then when you get to new technology, then there’s a learning curve or whatever. So time can be a problem.
And performance, uh, can be an issue too, because you really have to understand what the user wants. And it can be sometimes vaguely stated and our engineers and others—our education specialists and psychologists—will write a specification and it may not be exactly what the, uh, expectations of the eventual user. And then you have turn over personnel. you know, the user has different people coming on board, because of rotation. The new person might say, “That’s nice, but here’s what I really want.” So that can drive cost and schedule a little wacko too.
So those are some challenges and, and the technology itself. You do want to have everything that’s as current as can be, because you’ve got that whole issue of user acceptance to deal with.
Kids today have the latest bells and whistles, and it’s true in the service too. I mean, all the younger people coming in the service usually are familiar with and have used the latest technology. So, if you come along and give them something that’s lesser than that, they’re not going to be happy and chances are they may not even use it. So you’ve got to be very accommodating to the, uh, you know—the generations as they’re coming along to what you deliver.
Um, I can give you a good example of that. Today, gaming—you know, we’re using gaming technology in some of the simulator developments, like in decision making and some of those, uh, training devices. They’re actually using off-the-shelf games, um, or it can be just the gaming engines that are being used in the simulations. S, we have a whole new generation now that are familiar with gaming, but we have others that are not familiar with gaming. So we’ve got to bring the new people in as quickly as we can to make sure that we’re satisfying the generational needs of our—our service people. So keeping up with the technology and incorporating that in our latest devices is going to be a challenge. So, um, there are a few challenges. There are other challenges—I’m sure—but, uh, those are a few.
Hazen
Thank you. Um, and even in that you talked a little bit about this next question—can you tell me about what you think the future looks like for simulation? Specifically here at NAWCTSD. what’s the future look like with what kinds of things they might get into? [00:42:47.25]
Okraski
Yeah. these are exciting times, because every time I think that we’re here now—it just goes off onto another curve. I—I liken this to, um, a growth curves that I—I—I’ve been developed for other things, like tennis rackets. Tennis rackets, you know, started out as wood rackets, and then they went to aluminum rackets. Then they went to composite rackets. And every time they go from one technology to another, you get off a growth curve that looks like it’s saturated onto a new growth curve that begins to get saturated and you continue to do that. And that’s where we are right now in simulation and training.
With—as I mentioned, gaming, for example—it’s opening up a whole new area for us to investigate. An area too that I think is gonna get some attention and that is the fidelity of simulation is determined by brain activity. To be able to measure brain activity in an individual while varying fidelity might give us some indication as to how well we are conveying information to the trainee based on their mental arousal or other, uh, symptoms that would be evident through brain wave measurement. For example, we might take a look at a low fidelity simulator—as opposed to a high fidelity simulator, as opposed to an aircraft and do the same measurement on individuals—and just take a look at what kind of distraction or what kind of concentration takes place in each of those situations.
So I think there’s, you’re gonna see more activity in the brain—brain measurement area. I’m not up to the point yet where they’re gonna put probes into the head and with one throw of the switch you’ve got it. That—that’s maybe for my son or somebody else to pick up on that, but, um, yeah. I think that’s a very, very good area to and people are doing that now to some degree. Not full-scale yet, but they are looking at it.
Um, other areas—I mentioned gaming. Again, I think being able to tell a story better. Being able to tell a story of how a simulator is included in the overall scenario or experience that you’re trying to create. The attractions do that really well. They prepare you for it, you know, on The [Twilight Zone] Tower of Terror. you’re terrorized before anything happens for that matter. Or if you go to the Cape [Canaveral], over here where they have the new [NASA Space Shuttle] Atlantis [Exhibit] and you go through the space mission. they get you all prepped for the mission that you’re going to be involved with. They know how to tell a story, and I think we need to do that too with our training for our military personnel. To be able to integrate what we’re doing more into the overall scenario that we’re trying to establish. Yeah.
Hazen
Thank you.
Okraski
Okay.
Hazen
And one of my last questions is about the changes that have happened in Orlando because of NAWCTSD’s presence. You kind of described for us what it was a little bit like when simulation kind of got started here. Can you tell us a little bit about how it’s changed? How Orlando has changed because of NAWCTSD’s presence here?
Okraski
Yeah. I—I think we need to look at it from a little larger picture first. And that is, when we first came down here, there were no companies that—except for Lockheed Martin—that had anything to do with simulation. But then, as simulation began to grow, all these other companies began to come down and wanted to be close to the acquisition agencies—the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard, to some degree too. They want to be close to it, so they begin to orbit essentially the Team Orlando organization that we’ve been talking about to where Team Orlando now accounts for billions of dollars of acquisition of simulators and this accounts for some 27,000 direct employees working with the [U.S.] Defense Department in modeling and simulation.
Now it’s spread. We’re no longer just defense. We’re into entertainment, homeland security, transportation, medical—all using simulation. And we don’t know how large that piece is, but if the other piece is 27,000, it’s equal to or greater than probably. So what went from a handful of people moving down here in 1965—yeah. We might have 50,000 people now involved in simulation, one way or another.
Tremendous impact on the tax base in Central Florida., the average salary is about 70,000 dollars a year. people working in the simulation industry and the educational system has been totally responsive. The University of Central Florida, what were our community colleges now are four year colleges that have been set up. We can get a Master’s or Doctorate degree in simulation through UCF. Our high schools now—we have a curriculum in modeling and simulation that NCS put together. It’s on our website. It just seems to be no end to this and that’s good. You know where the long pole in the tent is to all this? Teachers. We don’t have teachers than can teach at the K[indergarten] through 12 level modeling and simulation and let the kids know about the careers that are available and why they need to study STEM [Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics]. you know, cause that’s the basis for our business in modeling and simulation is STEM. But it has—it has grown almost exponentially, and I expect it to continue to grow too. In spite of cut backs or other barriers we might see, we’re in a growth, uh—we’re in a growth community right now.
Hazen
Thank you. Um, do you have any other thoughts? Kind of wrapping up our interview. Any final thoughts about simulation and, um, its benefits? How it benefits us?
Okraski
Well, we know about the military. We also know that it’s being infused now into the medical world. Our Lake Nona [Medical City] complex down here—Medical City—has a number of simulations for like endoscopic, other forms of surgery, the Da Vinci simulations, and all. Um, the VA hospital. They all have some form of simulation. so, um, the spectrum has opened up as to the application of simulations. It provides for a wonderful career for individuals that want to get in to a well-paying, yet very, very satisfying career. and we need to really get that information out—get that out to the youngsters so they do they do begin to think of it as a viable career and they can stay in Florida and enjoy what we have here in doing so.
Hazen
Thank you.
Okraski
My pleasure, Kendra. Thank you for taking the time.
Hazen
Thanks.
[1] Individual Ready Reserve (IRR).