by Wayne Besen

LOOKING FOR MR. PAULK

In an excerpt from his new book, Anything But Straight, the author tracks down America’s most famous ex-gay

I was readying myself for bed late one Tuesday evening when my phone rang. Exhausted from the long, busy day, I barely had enough energy to answer it by the third ring. But what I heard immediately jolted me out of my pre-bedtime trance and electrified my imagination with excitement and disbelief. My colleague at the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), Daryl Herrschaft, franticly yelled into the receiver: “Wayne, get down here now. NOW! I’m not 100 percent sure, but I think John Paulk is in Mr. P’s,” a well-known gay bar in Washington’s heavily gay DuPont Circle area.

“No way, you’ve got to be joking!” I exclaimed.

It must be a case of mistaken identity, I thought. Why would the undisputed crown jewel of the so-called “ex-gay” movement be foolish enough to frequent a gay dive in Washington, D.C., home to nearly every national gay organization in the country? If there were any city in America where he might be recognized, this was it. As head of HRC’s efforts to unmask the “ex-gay” ministries, I was intrigued, to say the least.

If it really were Paulk, it would be a gargantuan discovery that would rock the “ex-gay” ministries and their religious-right sponsors to the core. In 1998, a coalition of 15 religious-right organizations launched the “Truth in Love” ad campaign featuring “ex-gays” with headlines like, “We’re Standing for the Truth that Homosexuals can Change.” The full-page ads appeared in major daily newspapers such as the New York Times, USA Today, and the Wall Street Journal. Paulk and his wife Anne, a self-described “ex-lesbian,” were prominently featured in these ads, which gave them a platform to launch their full-time careers as America’s most prominent professional heterosexuals.

For a time, they had become ubiquitous figures on the talk-show circuit, appearing on 60 Minutes, ABC’s World News Tonight, Good Morning America, and Oprah. The pinnacle of Anne and John’s success came when they graced the cover of Newsweek magazine under the bold headline: “GAY FOR LIFE?”

Later that year, Paulk published his first book, Not Afraid to Change: The Remarkable Story of How One Man Overcame Homosexuality. The autobiography vividly explains how he transformed himself from an alcoholic, acid-dropping, sex-addicted, transvestite prostitute named Candi into a married fundamentalist Christian, through the power of Jesus Christ.

Rev. D. James Kennedy of Coral Ridge Ministries said of the book, “John Paulk has the most hopeful and promising message for gay men that I have ever read.”

Conservative syndicated columnist Cal Thomas raved, “In his book you will find blessing and hope, especially if you are one who has been living in darkness, but longing to find the way to light.”

After the book was published, rabidly antigay Colorado Springs-based Focus on the Family hired Paulk to head their newly formed Homosexuality and Gender Department for Public Policy. Additionally, he was chair of Exodus International, the largest “ex-gay” support group, which serves as a worldwide umbrella organization for the “ex-gay” ministries.

Riding high with his new book and blossoming career, Paulk was a celebrity in fundamentalist circles and was clearly going places with the religious right. He kicked off the new millennium for Focus by launching the nationwide “Love Won Out” tour, which was a traveling road show to enlighten conservative audiences on the secrets of “leaving homosexuality behind”—as Paulk boasted he had done in 1987.

“We say God did not intend anyone to be this way—to be gay or lesbian,” Paulk bellowed at North Heights Lutheran Church while on the Minneapolis leg of his “Love Won Out” tour. “I accepted Christ into my life and realized I could leave homosexuality. I learned that homosexuality was reversible. Through faith in Christ and counseling and support, over a four-year period, my homosexuality greatly subsided.”

Like a rock star, no matter where he offered his heart-wrenching testimony, he received thunderous applause. Although he was no longer a drag queen, he still hadn’t lost his touch as a performer—albeit his audience had definitely changed.

***

I knew I only had a small window of opportunity to catch the alleged Paulk, so I grabbed my camera, threw on my baggy jeans, and sprinted to Mr. P’s, about a half mile from my DuPont condo.

Meanwhile, Herrschaft engaged the suspected Paulk in casual conversation. Herrschaft asked the man questions that should have made him gallop toward the exit like a 100-meter Olympic sprinter, if he were indeed Paulk. But apparently 20 minutes was not enough time for this man to enjoy his gay-bar experience, so he talked to his pushy inquisitor.

“What is your name and where are you from?” asked Herrschaft.

“John, from Colorado Springs,” the gentleman calmly replied.

“What is your last name?”

“Clint, John Clint is my name.”

“Are you sure it is not Paulk?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he unflappably replied.

Fortunately, Herrschaft bought me valuable time because the robust man in question began to fancy him.

“Would you like a drink, it’s on me?" he asked Herrschaft with a flirtatious twinkle in his eyes.

Herrschaft persisted with his cross-examination. “Are you gay?”

“Yes,” the man serenely responded.

Herrschaft continued to engage the man in conversation, revealing among other things, that Paulk was a Democrat.

***

Panting and drenched with perspiration, I continued my full-out dash down New Hampshire Avenue toward the dark, dingy bar. As I reached the intersection of Dupont Circle and Massachusetts Avenue, I had to stop briefly after a speeding taxi almost flattened me. The fuming driver rolled down his window and called me what I suspected was the Arabic equivalent of “asshole” as he peeled off.

The adrenaline was kicking and I could hear my heart thumping as I reached P Street, only a few blocks from my final destination. I stopped momentarily, catching my breath, before putting my head down and rumbling toward the hole-in-the-wall bar, which was now within my sight.

Standing at the shabby entrance of Mr. P’s, I briefly rehashed my plan. I would furtively enter the joint, look for the alleged Paulk, and if it were he, I would slip outside and call gay press reporters on my cell phone. Then hopefully they would race down to break a major story by photographing Paulk flirting and imbibing. Of course, breaking it in the mainstream press would have been optimum, but it was highly unlikely a Washington Post or New York Times reporter would have bolted to a third-rate gay bar in the middle of the night to take paparazzi-style photographs of an “ex-gay” leader.

Mr. P’s was the oldest standing gay bar in Washington, having been around since the mid-’70s. The foreboding gray exterior, punctuated by pitch-black tinted windows, made the bar an intimidating place to those not acquainted with it. And those who were acquainted with it were probably too drunk to notice. The bar was known for its drag shows and cheap booze. Around the corner was the “P Street Beach,” a heavily wooded area known as Washington’s most notorious gay cruising spot. If Paulk was looking for a clandestine sexual liaison or for a place where he could quietly find mischief, he was in the right spot.

Imbued with curiosity, I slowly opened the creaky, paint-chipped door and gingerly sauntered into the bar trying to go undetected. Within five feet from the entrance, I saw the back of a man who looked like John Paulk.

He was wearing khaki pants and a long-sleeved shirt covered by a sleeveless crème-colored sweater. His love handles were protruding over his pant line and his hair was neatly coifed.

The gentleman, whoever he was, seemed to be having a gay old time, laughing it up with several inebriated patrons while expertly nursing his half-empty cocktail. This man looked extraordinarily comfortable, like he had been born and raised in a gay bar. In the adjacent room, a raucous drag show raged as female impersonators delighted the roaring crowd.

A tall, scrawny, prune-faced drag queen with a Camel dangling out of an empty slot in her mouth where a tooth used to reside, sashayed right in front of the potential Paulk. If the man in question were not completely at ease in his surroundings, the sight of this drag queen would have sent him running for the nearest exit. But he had no intention of leaving the scene anytime soon. He was clearly in his element, just another man with bad taste in gay bars who was enjoying a big night out on the town.

With my head down, I stealthily angled to get a clear frontal view of the man, positioning myself where I could positively identify him. I had met the man personally on two occasions, once at a press conference in Washington and once in 1999 when I went undercover for an HRC intelligence-gathering mission at the Reclaiming America for Christ conference in Ft. Lauderdale. While sleuthing, I even had my picture taken with my arm around his wife Anne. So if it were actually the world’s most notorious “ex-gay,” I was more than qualified to recognize him.  

Standing nearly three feet away and directly in front of him, I gradually lifted my head and peered up.

It WAS Paulk!

My heart stopped. I could no longer hear the pulsating music, and the world moved in slow motion. There he stood, his carefully crafted 15-year lie about to be uncovered. I was absolutely floored, in a total state of shock. If he tried this risky stunt in Washington, I thought, how many other times in his travels had he gone straight from an antigay conference to a gay establishment? The scene reminded me of a passage I had once read in his book:

“One night, I had an overwhelming urge to go to a gay bar and pick up someone. I almost experienced real physical pain as I resisted. Finally, I got down on the tile floor in my bathroom and cried, ‘God, I beg you, keep me from going to a bar! I can hardly resist . . .’ Somehow I found the strength to stay home.”

Unfortunately for Paulk, tonight God wasn’t on “ex-gay” patrol and was probably working on less pressing issues like ending world hunger or Mid-East peace.

At this point I was desperately afraid I would be recognized. With HRC I had done several national television shows on the “ex-gay” topic including NBC’s The Roseanne Show. I also had conceived and edited a report only three months earlier titled Finally Free, How Love and Self-Acceptance Saved Us from the “Ex-Gay” Ministries, where people who had been through the ministries spoke out about their negative experiences. Only two weeks before this unlikely encounter, Paulk had personally called me to request a copy of this report for Focus. During our brief telephone conversation I said, “I will send you a report and hopefully it will help you come out of the closet.”

“Been there, done that, I don't think so,” he said.

Well, he may have been there and done that, but on this night he was “there” and doing “that” once again.

Then he saw me, put two and two together, and pandemonium consumed the smoky dive. Raw terror filled Paulk’s widening, panic-stricken eyes as he gasped in horror. My careful plan now foiled, I had no choice but to photograph him. With nothing to lose, I blurted out, “John Paulk, is that you?”

Reprinted by permission from Anything But Straight: Unmasking the Scandals and Lies Behind the Ex-Gay Myth, by Wayne R. Besen (Harrington Park Press, Binghamton, New York, 2003). Copies can be ordered from the publisher by calling Haworth Press at 1-800-HAWORTH or logging on to www.HaworthPress.com.

BESEN IN HOUSTON

Wayne Besen will appear twice in Houston this month on his national book tour for Anything But Straight. On Thursday, October 23, he will give a public reading from his book at the Houston GLBT Community Center. The center and PFLAG Houston will host the 7 p.m. event, followed by a question-and-answer session. Besen will also have a book signing at Lobo Bookshop & Cafe on Wednesday, October 22, at 7 p.m.