"On Your Knees, Boy": Johnny Sheffield Almost Becomes Tarzan's Lover

Born in 1931, son of stage star Reginald Sheffield and socialite Louise Van Loon, Johnny Sheffield was already a star at age five, playing "Pud" in the Broadway play On Borrowed Time.

In 1938, MGM movie Tarzan Johnny Weissmuller picked him out of 300 hopefuls to play his adopted son, Tarzan Jr., renamed Boy, in Tarzan Finds a Son!  He kept the role going for eight movies at MGM and RKO.

As the years passed, Boy co-opted Jane's role as Damsel in Distress: in the climactic scene of every movie, he was tied to something and about to be killed or violated while Tarzan rushed to the rescue.  Tarzan and Boy became the chief jungle couple, while Jane took to staying home in the Escarpment, or leaving altogether ("visiting America").

Big John and Little John were inseparable off-camera, too.  Weissmuller was married to Beryl Scott at the time and having innumerable affairs with men and women, but it was Johnny Sheffield who appeared with him at the Brown Derby and the Trocadero, at movie premieres, on drives up the coast to Malibu.  When Johnny was fifteen, Weissmuller bought them a house on the beach near Santa Barbara, where they could get away for weekends of swimming, fishing, and sunbathing, just the two of them.

In the 1940s, no tongues wagged about the "couple."  Many people were not aware that LGBT people  existed, and those who did thought only of swishy queens. Johnny Weissmuller was 6'4" and all muscle, a "real he-man."  No way he could be a "swish."

And, in fact, there was nothing sexual going on:  Weissmuller never touched Johnny in that way. 

Even as a teenager, when he developed a beautifully muscled physique and a dazzling matinee idol smile.

Even when the Tarzan series ended and they separated, Big John to play Jungle Jim (1948-1955) and Johnny to star in his own Bomba the Jungle Boy series (1949-1955), Big John still treated him as a little brother, a son.

Johnny found this odd -- since around his 15th birthday, every single person he met, man or woman, boy or girl, without exception, wanted to peek under his loincloth.  And he gave quite a few of them the opportunity: Tommy Cook, his costar in Tarzan and the Leopard Woman; Peggy Ann Garner, his costar in Bomba the Jungle Boy; Cesar Romero, Bobby Driscoll, Jean Simmons.  Why was Weissmuller immune to his trademark flirting?

He was especially interested because he had heard from several of Big John's former lovers that he was gifted with the biggest cock in Hollywood, a veritable third leg.  Johnny was always a bit self-conscious about his size (barely 5"), and anxious to see what the cock of a Greek god looked like.

One day in the summer of 1953, they went swimming, and Big John, as usual, carefully turned his back to put on his swimsuit.  Johnny had had enough. "Why don't you ever show me your manhood?"  he asked.  "You'll show any stranger on the street.  You're more proud of it than your Olympic medals.  Aren't I important enough to rate?"

Big John turned around, startled.  "Of course you are," he said.  "But you know, it's not just a look.  When I show them, they always want to touch it, and then they want me to go to bed with them, and I don't want you to end up in my bed.  You're my son, my Boy, not some random fairy."

Johnny chuckled.  "I promise I won't go to bed with you.  Lord knows I get enough offers as it is."

Big John still refused, but Johnny persisted, and cajoled, and flashed his trademark flirting smile, and finally he said "You're a little pain in the neck, you know that?  One look, fine, but no touching"

They went back to the house, to the master bedroom, and Big John dropped his swimsuit. Johnny stared: his penis hung down about 4", long and thick even when dripping wet from the ocean. His balls hung down even farther.  Johnny always thought that the key to a man's erotic power was in the size of his balls, not his dick.

Johnny couldn't help himself -- he reached out and lightly cupped Big John's balls.  His own penis started to stir.

Big John had a weird expression on his face, stern like a schoolmaster facing a class of dullards.  "On your knees, Boy!" he commanded.

Johnny didn't know if he meant "Boy" the character, but he obediently dropped to his knees and put his hands around the hardening cock. Now it was at least 9"!

"No, Boy, with your mouth."

Johnny had gotten head a lot, but he had never given head.  That was just for women  -- and queers, like Cesar Romero, right?  But this was Big John asking -- no, commanding!

He opened his mouth as wide as he could, and Big John's cock became hard as an iron rod, thrusting past his tongue, hitting the back of his throat. Johnny gagged and spit, grabbed Big John's butt cheeks to steady himself, and prepared for the onslaught.

Johnny was too busy trying to do a good job to find it erotic.  What was he supposed to do with his teeth?   Was he supposed to use his neck and jaw, or wait for Big John to enter him?  What would he do with the sperm?

And suddenly the thought hit him with the force of a gigantic penis.  Would he and Big John now be...um...boyfriends?  A pair of queer lovers?  Would Big John leave his wife?  How could either of them continue their careers as queers?  Billy Haines had to retire...and...

Suddenly Big John spurted down his throat.   Johnny ran to the bathroom to spit it out and wash out his mouth.

They didn't become lovers.  In fact, Weissmuller was rather cool and distant for the rest of the day.  They didn't see each other again until his son's birthday party, nearly a month later, and after that only rarely.

Whatever bond they had was broken.

The next time someone asked for a peek beneath Johnny's loincloth, he told them in no uncertain terms to back off.

Johnny retired from acting in 1955, got a degree in business from UCLA, and spent his life in farming and real estate.   He lost contact with most of his old Hollywood friends.  Johnny Weissmuller, Maureen O'Sullivan, Ford Beebe, and Tommy Cook got Christmas cards.  Trying his best to put those days behind him, Johnny refused requests for interviews and autographs.

As the years and decades passed, requests grew fewer, fans grew older, John himself grew older.

He concentrated on his home in Chula Vista (a suburb of San Diego), on his wife Patricia, on his children -- he helped his  sons Patrick and Stewart start a successful construction company -- on his grandchildren.  No one recognized him anymore.

On the rare occasions that he saw an old photograph or clip from one of his movies, Boy and Bomba seemed like other people, with no connection at all to John Sheffield of Chula Vista, California.

He never told anyone about that afternoon at the house in Santa Barbara when he and Weissmuller almost became lovers, until one day in July 1989 when his 23-year old son -- the quiet, bookish one, the one who didn't like sports and was shy around girls -- came to him and said "Dad, I've got something to tell you...."

See also: Cesar's Three-Way with Desi Arnaz Jr. and Dean Paul Martin; Tarzan's Boy Johnny Sheffield; Matt Hooks Up withTarzan's Grandson.

Gay Dating Stories with Tony Dow

When I lived in West Hollywood, everybody had a favorite celebrity dating story, told at parties and to impress first dates.   I often heard about current stars, like Rob Lowe, Matthew Broderick, Tom Cruise, Tony Danza, and Sylvester Stallone, and occasionally stars from previous generations, like Tony Curtis and Tommy Kirk.

But never anything about Tony Dow.

In retrospect, this seems strange. Tony Dow played Wally, Beaver's teenage brother in the iconic nuclear family sitcom Leave It to Beaver (1957-1963).  He was a gifted athlete who had no qualms about displaying his physique on camera.  He was the first crush of countless thousands of Baby Boomer boys, giving them their first inklings that same-sex desire and romance can exist.

He was very visible in the 1980s, playing a middle-aged Wally on a continuation of the series, The New Leave It to Beaver.  And he has remained visible since, playing endless parodies of Wally and the Beaver, acting, directing, writing, being interviewed, forging a new career as a sculptor.  He has remained a quiet, calm presence throughout our lives.

Sure, he is probably straight -- married from 1969 to the present, with no gay rumors to speak of (although the Bisexual Alliance has him on a list of 150 bisexual actors).   

But that never stopped guys from spinning a hookup story out of a chance meeting.  Why were they so reticent?

I shot out emails to all of my West Hollywood, San Francisco, and New York friends, asking if they or anybody they knew had a story about dating or hooking up with Tony Dow.  I got a few leads.

1. Rich Correll and Harold Lloyd Jr.  Will the Bondage Boy had a friend named Jason, who dated Rich Correll during the 1970s.

Born in 1948, so three years younger than Tony Dow, Correll played Beaver's best friend Richard on Leave It to Beaver.  They were best friends in real life, too. Later Rich became a writer and director, known for Hannah Montana, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, and other Disney channel teencoms.

"Did Rich Correll ever date Tony Dow?" I asked via email.

"That story never came up, but Jason did tell me that Rich dated [silent film star] Harold Lloyd's son as a young teen.  He was an anal bottom and liked rough trade: he wanted Rich to beat and strangle him. Then one night he had a stroke, which he never recovered from.  That's why Rich refused to do S&M."

Harold Lloyd Jr., born in 1931, was indeed gay, and into rough trade.  The other details work out.  But this story didn't get me any closer to Tony Dow.



2. Tommy Rettig

Tom Rettig (back) was born in 1941 and  acted steadily through his childhood,notably in Lassie (1954-57).  He and Tony Dow became friends in the early 1960s, and starred together in Never Too Young (1965-66).

Tom and his wife Darlene were deeply involved in the youth counterculture: drugs, rock music, protest, free love. They were both bisexual, and often brought in third partners, both male and female.

 After a drug bust in 1976, the couple split up.  Tom became a motivational speaker and author.  He moved into the computer industry in the early 1980s, becoming a recognized expert in dBase and FoxPro. 

In 1989, he was living in Marina del Rey, near Venice Beach, where, according to my ex-boyfriend Troy in Upstate New York, he met the 25-year old Maury, the ex-boyfriend of the Satyr.   Maury had never heard of him, and didn't want to hear about Lassie, which Tom found refreshing.   They dated for about three months: Tom was an oral bottom and very affectionate in bed, but Maury couldn't handle his attraction to men and women both.

"Well, did Tom Rettig hookup with Tony Dow when they were teenagers?  Some youthful experimentation on Tony's part?"

"I don't know -- the Satyr never mentioned that.  And he's gone now, so there's no way to ask.  I don't remember Maury's last name."

There's a post on Tommy Rettig on Boomer Beefcake and Bonding.

3. Christian Osmond

On The New Leave It to Beaver (1983-1989), many of the original cast members reprised their roles.  Ken Osmond returned as the officious Eddie Haskell, his sons played by his real-life sons, Eric (born 1971) and Christian (born 1974).  Christian appeared in only 10 episodes; he decided that he didn't like acting, and trained to become a veterinarian ("Dogs treat you better than most people.")

Infinite Chazz's friend Riley met him in 2004, when he brought his dog in for vaccinations.  Christian was very buffed, with short blond hair, a short beard, a gleaming smooth chest, and an enormous Kielbasa.

At first Riley thought he was related to Donny and Marie Osmond, but soon he heard about The New Leave it to Beaver.  During dinner, Christian told him about growing up gay in the household of conservative actor-turned-cop Ken Osmond.

"Did Christian mention Tony Dow?" I asked.  "Cruising guys, bringing a boyfriend to the set, helping him come out, anything?" 

"Nothing that I remember," Infinite Chazz replied. 

4. The Physique Photographer

Many people don't realize that Leave It to Beaver was not a big hit during its first run -- kids liked it, but adults regularly switched the channel to Perry Mason or a Western.  And since Tony Dow was under 18 for all but the last few episodes, his paycheck went directly to his parents. 

He spent the years 1963-1965 scrounging around for guest spots on second-rate tv shows, always broke, with debts mounting.

Glenn Corbett, the bisexual actor who would soon star in Route 66 , made extra money posing for physique magazines -- displaying muscular guys, naked except for posing straps, for a closeted gay audience. 

He gave Tony the telephone number of a photographer named Jim, one of Randall the Muscle Bear's friends, who ran a magazine called Tomorrow's Man.  One afternoon Tony went up for a shoot under the name "Tony Williams," flexing by the pool in a small posing strap.

Unfortunately, Tomorrow's Man ceased publication before the photos could be published, and they were subsequently stolen by one of Jim's tricks.  Chances are they are still lying in a dresser drawer in a house in West Hollywood, waiting to be discovered and posted on the internet.

"But was there a hookup?  With Glenn Corbett, or with Jim the Photographer?"

"Jim didn't say whether they hooked up or not," Randall replied.  "It wasn't a celebrity dating story, it was a 'don't trust a trick' story."

There are no more leads.  No one, it seems, has dated Tony Dow, or fantasized a chance encounter into a story to tell at parties.

Gay celebrity dating stories aren't just gossip.  They reveal something insightful about the speaker -- the romance or sexual encounter helped him to come out, to understand himself and his place in the world.

Maybe there are no stories about dating Tony Dow because he helped guys understand themselves in other ways , by playing Wally Cleaver, by displaying his 1960s physique, by being a quiet, calm presence throughout our lives.

See also: Who Is Tony Dow's Boyfriend

As of July 27th, 2022, the 77-year old Tony is in hospice care, 

Adam and I Sleep Together, Sort Of

Madison, Wisconsin, July 1981

When I was in college in the early 1980s, gay people were never mentioned in class or on the quad.  They never appeared on tv or in movies.  There may have been a few gay people around, but they never came out willingly.  To find them, you had to look for clues.

How about Adam Horowitz, manager of the Student Union bookstore?  You never saw him with a girl.  When pressed, he claimed to be in love with an icy Hitchcockian blonde, but gave no more details.

Of course, you never saw him with a boy, either.   We had a "date" in March 1981, with a thwarted kiss under the Bell Tower,  but that was the only time I saw him away from his counter in the bookstore.

Until the summer of 1981,  when the Film Club took a road trip to Madison, Wisconsin, about 3 hours away, for an Italian Film Festival, two days of Fellini, Antonioni, Pasolini, and Zeffirelli. Though Adam wasn’t a member, not even a student, he asked if he could tag along. The president gave her eager consent, obviously planning an aggressive seduction – she was a senior, with less than a year until graduation, and landing a mature “older man” who owned his own business would trump even a Fratboy.  But Adam ignored her and spent all of his time with me.

On Saturday night, after Pasolini’s Canterbury Tales, we had a late dinner at a Mexican restaurant called Casa de Lara, and then the others suggested that we drop into the nearby Whiskey River Saloon for a beer – but I wasn’t 21 yet, and besides, I was still too Nazarene to stomach such places. As I weighed my choices, enduring the disgusting hospital smell of a saloon or being abandoned on the street, Adam wrapped a paternal arm around my shoulders and pushed us off into the night.



We strolled jauntily through the crowds on State Street, talking of Pasolini and then of  A Many Colored Land by Julian May, which had just been published to delirious acclaim among science fiction fans. We browsed through a record store and a hippie bookstore, where I bought a copy of Allen Ginsburg’s long beat poem Howl.

When we finally arrived at the hotel room that four of us were sharing,  Adam did endless sit-ups in his underwear while I lay atop his bed, watching.

"How should we arrange this?" I asked.

"What?"

"The...um...sleeping arrangements."  My face began to burn. "Um...maybe we should bunk together.  Then Bruce and Lars won't wake us up when they come in.”

“They’ll probably be back any minute, though."

“It'll be easier," I insisted.

 "I guess."  We climbed into bed.  Adam pulled the covers up only as far as his waist, so if I glanced casually over I could see his belly, hard and flat and xylophone-ribbed, his thick chest just brushed with hair, his heavy, blue-veined arms and shoulders. He continued to talk, desperately, of underground comix and Scrooge McDuck and Isaac Asimov and The Prisoner, while I waited, so close that I could feel the heat from his skin.

"Did you know that Allen Ginsberg is gay?"  I interrupted.

Adam turned on his side, so he was facing away from me.  "No, I didn't.  Well, goodnight."  He turned off the light.  And, a moment later, Bruce and Lars arrived, rowdy and joking.


Adam permitted some touching and fondling during the night, but attempting anything more got me rudely shoved away.  I couldn't tell if Adam was inhibited because Bruce and Lars were in the next bed, because I wasn't his type, or because he was straight, so I gave up.  And next day, after Pasolini's Arabian Nights, we drove back to Rock Island.

Later in the summer, Adam went to a comic book convention in Chicago, where he met and fell in love with a graduate student in art history from Ohio State University.  He returned to pack some things and lock up his bookstore -- the college later sold the stock cheap and turned it into a tv lounge -- and move to Columbus, without ever naming his...girlfriend?  boyfriend?  or using a pronoun.  I got one postcard, stating how deliriously happy he was.  And then silence.

Internet research reveals that Adam is now a newspaper editor in a small town in the Midwest, still deeply involved in comic book fandom, and...gay, straight, bi?  Asexual?  I still don't know.

People of our generation were trained to keep silent.  I imagine Adam is sitting in his newspaper office right now, thinking "Was Boomer gay, straight, bi?  Asexual?"


See also: Kissing Adam at the Bell Tower.