This is the story of how Emery Walters became whom he was supposed to be.<br><br>I knew I was male at an early age, something that was a societal no-no in the 1950s and still is in parts of the country today. Burying my male identity, I strove to be the best woman possible. But after raising my four wonderful children from two debilitating marriages, I found myself alone and nearly penniless. That was when Emery asserted his identity.<br><br>Life became better with the shift from female to male, a third marriage, and a wife who, herself, transitioned from male to female.

Some Fine Day

And not to mention that Brooklyn or New Joisey implant that was rude to me twice—once refusing to help me across the street at a construction site telling me it would be jaywalking (but I guess it would be OK if I got killed darting across on my own where he was directing traffic through the crosswalk back where I’d just come from???)—same officer who shouted at me (and I quote) to kick a homeless guy and make sure he wasn’t just sleeping ‘next time’ after I had called in about the guy face-planting onto the beach last year. I’m still aghast.


The sad part is when I mentioned the first part of this to someone, they knew exactly what I meant. So it wasn’t just me. The police here are not respected, and it’s obvious why. What a shame.


I’m grateful I know two police officers just on Live Journal (not to mention the ones back in Washington state and the ones I went to all the law enforcement college classes years ago with) who are honest, interested, helpful and polite.


Chapter 90