Oakland couple: Friends share secret, build a life

Brian Cornell is still in touch with his high school crush: His hand is on his shoulder.

Growing up near San Francisco's Stern Grove in a Catholic family of seven kids, Brian, now 52 and a truck driver for FedEx, has few fond memories of childhood. An unhappy loner who had trouble making friends, by the time he reached high school he was not quite a "bad boy" - but he was heading in that direction.

Through friends, he met Alberto Rulloda, now 62 but then in his 20s, a Vietnam veteran who lived nearby. Brian was drawn to him immediately, even going as far as volunteering at the VA hospital where Alberto then worked as a file clerk. "Whenever he was around, I was happy," Brian says. They spent time biking, camping and hiking.

Alberto had emigrated from the Philippines with his family in 1967. Three months later, though he wasn't yet a citizen, he had been drafted. Vietnam was brutal: He drove tanks on the front line, and as the only Asian in his troop, bore abuse from his fellow soldiers. "They called me 'gook,' " says Alberto, who still suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. Of course, in the service, he told no one his of homosexuality.

Home from Vietnam in 1971, Alberto, though closeted to his family, connected with other gay men and even helped start a gay roller-skating club. He had a boyfriend, and though he enjoyed the closeness he had with Brian, he didn't dare reveal his orientation to his young friend. Still, Brian, much to his own confusion, grew more attached. "Obsessed," he admits with a grin.

One night in 1977, after several years of friendship, Alberto, whose boyfriend had broken up with him, returned from a night out to find Brian waiting on his porch. It was raining, and with Alberto's family out of town, he set his drenched friend by a roaring fireplace. Then, spurred by the moment, he came out to him. Not sure of what would happen, he gave Brian the option of ending their friendship but also let him know how much he treasured their connection.

Brian, who knew nothing about homosexuality, immediately felt free; he now knew those feelings for Alberto were love. He only had one question. "Can I kiss you?" he asked. That night sparked a romance that continues today.

In 1979, Brian took Alberto to church and privately asked him for "forever." Then, in 2008, they married legally in a formal ceremony with family and friends.

Alberto is now retired from a long career in the U.S. Postal Service. From their house in the Oakland hills, the men look back on the decades with awe. Avid horsemen, they've been involved in activities as diverse as gay rodeo and country dancing. For several years, they cared for Alberto's ailing mother. Throughout the AIDS epidemic, they witnessed the deaths of many friends.

"It's a big story," Brian says.

"A long story," Alberto adds.

Louise Rafkin has contributed to the New York Times and NPR's "All Things Considered." Couple suggestions? Send a story to onthecouch@sfchronicle.com.

This article appeared on page F - 2 of the San Francisco Chronicle