The Trans-Atlantic TransSexual ~ From Bill to Billie Felice in Only a Day

Photo Courtesy of Google Images

In 1999, I was sitting comfortably with my family on a double-decker 747 in Frankfurt, Germany, awaiting our return flight to San Francisco, California. I wondered who’d occupy the empty seat to my left for the 12-hour flight and was excited at the prospect of an engaging conversation to occupy my time. 💺 My mother used to say, “Deborah, you’ve never met a stranger.” Every seat on the massive airplane was filled with the exception of the one next to me. ✈️

At last, my seatmate arrived. She stood six-feet-two and had a kind, grandmotherly face. Her snow-white hair was beautifully coifed, her red fingernails perfectly manicured and her face expertly made-up. 💅👄💄She was wearing a gorgeous dress with high heels and pantyhose. 💃👠👛

I smiled, extended my right hand and introduced myself. "Hello. I'm Deborah Gilson." She offered her massive hand, which enveloped mine like a ski glove and told me her name, Billie Felice. Striking up a conversation, I asked about her travels abroad. She said she was heading home from Stockholm, Sweden. Wincing in apparent physical discomfort, she gingerly leaned over and exclaimed, “Wow! Thank God, sex change operations happen only once in a lifetime.” ♀️ ♂️ I'd never heard of such a thing, however, nodded my head up and down. With 12 hours to pass, Billie began her story. 📔

In 1926, William, a precious boy, was born at the Queen of Angels Hospital in Los Angeles, California. 😇 Known as "Billy" during his youth, by the age of six he knew he was different from the other boys his age. He preferred doing things with his younger sister, rather than boy activities. His father consistently told him he'd never amount to anything. As Billy grew older, feminine feelings crept into his thought process, causing him to wonder what was wrong. 🤔 My mind raced. I had no idea how she felt and frankly, was relieved I adored every ounce of my ultra-feminine being. How in the world could someone live masking such a horrific predicament? 🤫

In 1943 at age 17, Bill joined the Navy during the height of World War II. Upon returning home from the service, he married a young woman he’d known several years. 👰🤵He felt this would remove his uncomfortable feelings of feminism and be met with approval in his father's eyes. 👁️👁️ I stared at her massive hands and attempted visualizing them at the helm of a fighter plane. 🚀 Nope. The vision wasn't happening.

During the next 20 years, Bill’s marriage went from bad to worse, although they were blessed with a beautiful daughter. 🤱The problem of his long-time secret feminine feelings became a bone of contention, however, they were never discovered by others. My furrowed eyebrows secretly wondered, "Wait a minute❗It's physically possible to fake having sex with the wrong sex❓" Finally, Bill felt he had no other choice than to end the marriage.

Three years later, Bill met another lovely lady with whom he supposedly established a beautiful relationship and married. His love for his new bride was so deep and complete he was able to keep his feelings of femininity under wraps. The next 10 years provided an immense amount of happiness for him.👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 I wanted to holler, "What in the world? How could a secret of such magnitude remain hidden by one's spouse?!" 😬😲 As if reading my exasperated thoughts, Bill admitted he consistently drowned his sorrows in booze.🍾🍷🍸🍹 Perhaps he should reach out to Alcoholics Anonymous?

In 1973, Bill’s business sold for a handsome sum, allowing him to retire at age 47. 💰 However, he felt strongly as a budding alcoholic with a large amount of money, this could prove dangerous. ☠️Over the next several years, he involved himself in various businesses in which he had no experience. These ended in bankruptcy while the drinking continued, even though he was a half-hearted member of Alcoholics Anonymous.💔 He could no longer live with himself and decided the best scenario would be to end his life. 😰 I sat riveted while listening to Billie Felice's unusual story. Even Jerry Springer couldn't make this stuff up. 😵

One Sunday in 1987, with his wife and family away, Bill took his 357 Magnum Colt Python to his office and began writing a good-bye letter to his family. 💌✍️ He apologized for the havoc he created. However, while sitting at his desk, three members from his AA meetings appeared in the doorway. 🚪They just happened to stop by to see how he was doing. Seeing the pistol on his desk, they took him home. The next day they checked him into the Veterans' Alcohol and Drug Rehabilitation Program. 🤒🤕 Everyone faces monumental challenges in their life, however, nothing compared to what I was hearing straight from the horse's mouth. 🐴

During the first three days of his detoxification program, Bill received divorce papers. He began to feel at peace with himself. ☮️ At last, Bill knew what he needed to do: convert into the woman he always wanted to become. Paving the path for his transformation, he boarded the flight to Sweden. Flying home to San Francisco as Billie Felice, she went to the ladies room to powder her nose, freshen her lipstick and spray on “stink pretty”, her favorite fragrance.

I maintained contact with Billie Felice and dined with her in San Francisco, along with my Aunt Shirlee, who also appreciated courageous individuals. Billie Felice had been disowned by her family and longed to connect with loving individuals. 💞 With the 72-year-old ladies only a month apart in age, I listened intently as they excitedly talked like magpies about their younger years.🐦🐦

My life was enriched as a mother and continuously active. Unfortunately, I lost contact with Billie Felice, however, learned she died in 2001. ⚰️ Was she alone during her final moments on God's green Earth? Had she any regrets in her 74 years?

By a remarkable chance, Billie’s flight home was with my family and me. Who could have imagined the privilege of sitting next to so much life? While on a Trans-Atlantic flight next to a transsexual, I learned Bill became Billie Felice in only a day.👨👵

Holy Moly!

Holy Moly!

An ugly mole on the right side of my face began to suddenly change its shape and color. It went from brown to black and the edges became irregular. As long as I remained an ostrich, the mole was unseen by me.😣

March 17th, 2018, I traveled to the Bay Area's Peninsula to care for my aunt, Audrey Polster, and keep her company for a few weeks. While there, two of her friends commented on my mole saying, "Oh, my gosh, Debbie! Have that mole on your face checked immediately! It's something you simply mustn't ignore!"

My stomach turned upside down, I began to perspire profusely and my hands were shaking like leaves on a tree. I calmly and politely thanked each for their genuine concern while maintaining an even-keeled voice. Could they see the terror in my eyes? Were they aware I could vomit any moment? I put up a bold front and smiled in my usual fashion.

I walked into my aunt's home and mentioned the conversation I had in the middle of her street. She instantly grabbed the telephone number of her dermatologist in Menlo Park, California and handed me the paper. I dialed the number, made an appointment and during the following two nights created a horrific case of insomnia to pass the time.

The two days swiftly passed and now, my aunt and I were seated in the dermatologist's room with me on the edge of the high chair, complete with feet dangling off the edge. It doesn't take much to frighten me. If someone comes around a corner too quickly, I scream. The moment the dermatologist entered the room, I felt nauseous. She looked at the mole on my face and terror enveloped me. As a professional, she maintained a poker face, however, was unable to hide behind the several photos she snapped with her iPad.

Dr. Fetch said she would need to take a biopsy of the mole. I asked whether this would require an injection into the mole and she said it would. I let her know I'm a tiny bit jumpy and I kind of have a really low pain tolerance. She told me to turn my head the other way and close my eyes. I did as she instructed and instantly, my son's face was in the forefront of my mind's eye, which brought crocodile tears.😪

Two days later, the dermatologist called and calmly said, "Deborah, your mole biopsy shows it has melanoma. You need to make an appointment immediately at Stanford for surgery." My legs began to tremble as I reached backward for a chair. I thanked her and hung up the phone. As a Chicken Little, I wondered about my late mother who succumbed to cancer. Would I live to be a GrandMother?🤱

April 2nd, my 58th birthday, Katy Krchniak Katzenberger accompanied me to my two pre-op appointments. She asked the Stanford team pertinent questions I didn't know existed. I've always needed a loving guide in my life to help me navigate and today was no different.😇

Friday, April 6th, was the date of my surgery. Katy Cochrane made the four-hour drive from Redding to be by my side. My aunt, Sharon Herald, and uncle Rob drove me to Stanford Hospital. As I gazed at the massive letters at the top of the building, I was instantly forever changed: 

STANFORD CANCER CENTER.👹

My relatives and I walked into the Nuclear Medicine unit where I had to undergo four hours of MRI's and CT scans, complete with four injections of blue dye into the mole. My surgeon needed to see whether the melanoma traveled - and it had. Three of my lymph nodes reacted to the blue dye, therefore, they, too, would need to be removed.🤕

Finally, I was prepared for surgery. With loved ones in the waiting room, I was wheeled into an operating room wearing a stunning gown, screaming yellow socks and ultra-sexy boy shorts. The anesthesiologist asked whether I was left or right-handed and I waved my left hand. Instantly, an IV was inserted into my right arm.

The following Wednesday, I returned to Stanford to have the stitches removed from the right side of my face. After, I learned there was no more melanoma on my face. The wave of relief caused me to freeze with elation: I was going to live to be a GrandMother after all.👣

However, my gratitude and relief were short-lived - as in 10 seconds. I was told of the three lymph nodes removed, one contained melanoma. As swiftly as the stitches were removed, I was instructed to scramble to the next building for a full-body PET scan, pronto!🤢

My aunt and uncle put their running shoes on and pushed their way through on my behalf. Lying on the bed for the PET scan, I silently succumbed to a river of tears. I thought about my beloved Spencer Gilson, my students at the school, my beautiful home and the fragility of life. I was told not to move a muscle, therefore, my ears filled with tears.😰

After waiting five excruciatingly long days for the PET scan results, I received a call letting me know there was no sign of melanoma anywhere in my body.🤗

No longer is there an ugly mole on the side of my face. Never again will someone in the grocery line poke me and say, "Hey, you have a dot of black marker your face." Never again will I hide my head in the sand, afraid to face holy moly.🎉

Carr Fire of Redding, California

Photo Courtesy of Kailyn Alonzo, 7/28/2018

During the four long summer months, it's natural for temperatures in Northern California to soar into the triple digits.👿July 23rd, 2018, was no different, however, as a vehicle puttered along Highway 299 at 1:15 pm, it blew a tire igniting the most destructive fire in Shasta County’s history. The vehicle was near the Judge Francis Carr Powerhouse in Whiskeytown, California, 32 miles west of Redding, California. What happened within minutes ironically became known worldwide as the Carr Fire.

It wasn't long before I received word from Janice Thomas-J's Blossoms and Emily Faye Traylor, my in-the-know next door neighbors, that evacuation of our close-knit neighborhood was imminent.😲I'm grateful for living in between Janice and Emily, whose husbands are first responders for major disasters in Redding.👨‍🚒 In the wise words of Grant Butterfield, "Sandwiched by first responders. Nice!"

In only a few minutes, the Carr Fire was "plume dominated," a type of fire that spreads itself. The fire also created towering pyrocumulus clouds, which collapse at night, creating strong downdrafts, described as a tornado. The fire was also fueled by hot, dry weather and dry vegetation. High winds drove embers beyond the fire lines igniting roofs and trees. The normally blue sky was replaced with an eerie orange and red canvas.

Ashes began landing on my pristine yards making my heart race. I knew it wasn't long before Janice and Emily would send texts telling me to pack a suitcase and load up my most prized possessions. Robotically, I gathered my grown son’s childhood belongings, along with eight large plastic bins of photographs. I stayed the night at Lynna Gott's comfortable home, visiting with John Gott and their lovable dogs. By the grace of good fortune, I received word the residents in our neighborhood were able to return home the following day.

My Home Safe and Sound

The Carr Fire continued its ferocious activity by jumping the 700-yard-wide Sacramento River, which none of the first responders expected. In its aftermath, 40,000 Redding community residents were displaced. According to Cal Fire, 126,000 acres burned for 197 square miles. More than 366 fire engines with 4,151 firefighters assisted local firefighters from 68 fire crews, along with 17 helicopters, 119 bulldozers and military personnel, too. Thousands of animals' lives were disrupted, 1,060 homes were destroyed and sadly, six people died.

🦊🐷🐿️🌳🏘️👨‍👩‍👧‍👦😭

Precious Cat Rescued and Treated at Haven Humane Society

A great-grandmother and her two young great-grandchildren died, trapped in their trailer.👵👧🧑The young boy and his sister were discovered under a wet blanket with their great-grandmother’s body lying across them. She did everything humanly possible to save her tiny tots.💜

My ultra-sensitive heart imagined this final scene. In an attempt to soothe the children’s fragile nerves, their great-grandmother calmly told them to imagine a few of their favorite things. In my mind’s eye, she said they would soon bake homemade chocolate chip cookies and watch their favorite movies, complete with a big bowl of buttered popcorn.🍪They could even stay up late, too!😀😃

She told the kids it wouldn’t be long before Halloween would be here and gave them ideas for their next costumes.🎃She also gave hints as to what would be in Santa's bag because, of course, Santa Clause knew they were perfect children.🎅🎄She also told them how much money they could expect from the Tooth Fairy, all about the treasure hunt for their next Easter Sunday and the beautifully wrapped presents they would receive for their birthdays!🎁

As this Great-GrandMother lay her exhausted body across her trembling Great-GrandChildren, she protected them from what she instinctively knew, "Grammy loves you both so very much and it won't be long before we're home, at last, I promise." As she wrapped her loving arms around them, these three angelic souls were gently lifted from the Carr Fire of Redding, California.😇😇😇