1,112 and Counting

Larry Kramer

It’s been 30 years since the New York Native first published this essay by Larry Kramer.  If you’ve got time, take 10 minutes to read it, it’s an incredible bit of LGBT history.

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1,112 and Counting

If this article doesn’t scare the shit out of you, we’re in real trouble. If this article doesn’t rouse you to anger, fury, rage, and action, gay men may have no future on this earth. Our continued existence depends on just how angry you can get.

I am writing this as Larry Kramer, and I am speaking for myself, and my views are not to be attributed to Gay Men’s Health Crisis.

I repeat: Our continued existence as gay men upon the face of this earth is at stake. Unless we fight for our lives, we shall die. In all the history of homosexuality we have never before been so close to death and extinction. Many of us are dying or already dead.

Before I tell you what we must do, let me tell you what is happening to us.

There are now 1,112 cases of serious Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. When we first became worried, there were only 41. In only twenty-eight days, from January 13th to February 9th [1983], there were 164 new cases – and 73 more dead. The total death tally is now 418. Twenty percent of all cases were registered this January alone. There have been 195 dead in New York City from among 526 victims. Of all serious AIDS cases, 47.3 percent are in the New York metropolitan area.

These are the serious cases of AIDS, which means Kaposi’s sarcoma, Pneumocystis carinii pneumonia, and other deadly infections. These numbers do not include the thousands of us walking around with what is also being called AIDS: various forms of swollen lymph glands and fatigues that doctors don’t know what to label or what they might portend.

The rise in these numbers is terrifying. Whatever is spreading is now spreading faster as more and more people come down with AIDS.

And, for the first time in this epidemic, leading doctors and researchers are finally admitting they don’t know what’s going on. I find this terrifying too – as terrifying as the alarming rise in numbers. For the first time, doctors are saying out loud and up front, “I don’t know.”

For two years they weren’t talking like this. For two years we’ve heard a different theory every few weeks. We grasped at the straws of possible cause: promiscuity, poppers, back rooms, the baths, rimming, fisting, anal intercourse, urine, semen, shit, saliva, sweat, blood, blacks, a single virus, a new virus, repeated exposure to a virus, amoebas carrying a virus, drugs, Haiti, voodoo, Flagyl, constant bouts of amebiasis, hepatitis A and B, syphilis, gonorrhea

I have talked with the leading doctors treating us. One said to me, “If I knew in 1981 what I know now, I would never have become involved with this disease.” Another said, “The thing that upsets me the most in all of this is that at any given moment one of my patients is in the hospital and something is going on with him that I don’t understand. And it’s destroying me because there’s some craziness going on in him that’s destroying him.” A third said to me, “I’m very depressed. A doctor’s job is to make patients well. And I can’t. Too many of my patients die.”

After almost two years of an epidemic, there still are no answers. After almost two years of an epidemic, the cause of AIDS remains unknown. After almost two years of an epidemic, there is no cure.

Hospitals are now so filled with AIDS patients that there is often a waiting period of up to a month before admission, no matter how sick you are. And, once in, patients are now more and more being treated like lepers as hospital staffs become increasingly worried that AIDS is infectious.

Suicides are now being reported of men who would rather die than face such medical uncertainty, such uncertain therapies, such hospital treatment, and the appalling statistic that 86 percent of all serious AIDS cases die after three years’ time.

If all of this had been happening to any other community for two long years, there would have been, long ago, such an outcry from that community and all its members that the government of this city and this country would not know what had hit them.

Why isn’t every gay man in this city so scared shitless that he is screaming for action? Does every gay man in New York want to die?

Let’s talk about a few things specifically.

  • Let’s talk about which gay men get AIDS.

No matter what you’ve heard, there is no single profile for all AIDS victims. There are drug users and non-drug users. There are the truly promiscuous and the almost monogamous. There are reported cases of single-contact infection.

All it seems to take is the one wrong fuck. That’s not promiscuity – that’s bad luck.

  • Let’s talk about AIDS happening in straight people.

We have been hearing from the beginning of this epidemic that it was only a question of time before the straight community came down with AIDS, and that when that happened AIDS would suddenly be high on all agendas for funding and research and then we would finally be looked after and all would then be well.

I myself thought, when AIDS occurred in the first baby, that would be the breakthrough point. It was. For one day the media paid an enormous amount of attention. And that was it, kids.Schild_Christopher_Street

There have been no confirmed cases of AIDS in straight, white, non-intravenous-drug-using, middle-class Americans. The only confirmed straights struck down by AIDS are members of groups just as disenfranchised as gay men: intravenous drug users, Haitians, eleven hemophiliacs (up from eight), black and Hispanic babies, and wives or partners of IV drug users and bisexual men.

If there have been – and there may have been – any cases in straight, white, non-intravenous-drug-using, middle-class Americans, the Centers for Disease Control isn’t telling anyone about them. When pressed, the CDC says there are “a number of cases that don’t fall into any of the other categories.” The CDC says it’s impossible to fully investigate most of these “other category” cases; most of them are dead. The CDC also tends not to believe living, white, middle-class male victims when they say they’re straight, or female victims when they say their husbands are straight and don’t take drugs.

Why isn’t AIDS happening to more straights? Maybe it’s because gay men don’t have sex with them.

Of all serious AIDS cases, 72.4 percent are in gay and bisexual men.

  • Let’s talk about “surveillance.”

The Centers for Disease Control is charged by our government to fully monitor all epidemics and unusual diseases.

To learn something from an epidemic, you have to keep records and statistics. Statistics come from interviewing victims and getting as much information from them as you can. Before they die. To get the best information, you have to ask the right questions.

There have been so many AIDS victims that the CDC is no longer able to get to them fast enough. It has given up. (The CDC also had been using a questionnaire that was fairly insensitive to the lives of gay men, and thus the data collected from its early study of us have been disputed by gay epidemiologists. The National Institutes of Health is also fielding a very naive questionnaire.)

Important, vital case histories are now being lost because of this cessation of CDC interviewing. This is a woeful waste with as terrifying implications for us as the alarming rise in case numbers and doctors finally admitting they don’t know what’s going on. As each man dies, as one or both sets of men who had interacted with each other come down with AIDS, yet more information that might reveal patterns of transmissibility is not :being monitored and collected and studied. We are being denied perhaps the easiest and fastest research tool available at this moment.

It will require at least $200,000 to prepare a new questionnaire to study the next important question that must be answered: How is AIDS being transmitted? (In which bodily fluids, by which sexual behaviors, in what social environments?)

For months the CDC has been asked to begin such preparations for continued surveillance. The CDC is stretched to its limits and is dreadfully underfunded for what it’s being asked, in all areas, to do.

  • Let’s talk about various forms of treatment.

It is very difficult for a patient to find out which hospital to go to or which doctor to go to or which mode of treatment to attempt.

Hospitals and doctors are reluctant to reveal how well they’re doing with each type of treatment. They may, if you press them, give you a general idea. Most will not show you their precise numbers of how many patients are doing well on what and how many failed to respond adequately.

plague3Because of the ludicrous requirements of the medical journals, doctors are prohibited from revealing publicly the specific data they are gathering from their treatments of our bodies. Doctors and hospitals need money for research, and this money (from the National Institutes of Health, from cancer research funding organizations, from rich patrons) comes based on the performance of their work (i.e., their tabulations of their results of their treatment of our bodies); this performance is written up as “papers” that must be submitted to and accepted by such “distinguished” medical publications as the New England Journal of Medicine. Most of these “distinguished” publications, however, will not publish anything that has been spoken of, leaked, announced, or intimated publicly in advance. Even after acceptance, the doctors must hold their tongues until the article is actually published. Dr. Bijan Safai of Sloan-Kettering has been waiting over six months for the New England Journal, which has accepted his interferon study, to publish it. Until that happens, he is only permitted to speak in the most general terms of how interferon is or is not working.

Priorities in this area appear to be peculiarly out of kilter at this moment of life or death.

  • Let’s talk about hospitals.

Everybody’s full up, fellows. No room in the inn.

Part of this is simply overcrowding. Part of this is cruel.

Sloan-Kettering still enforces a regulation from pre-AIDS days that only one dermatology patient per week can be admitted to that hospital. (Kaposi’s sarcoma falls under dermatology at Sloan-Kettering.) But Sloan-Kettering is also the second-largest treatment center for AIDS patients in New York. You can be near death and still not get into Sloan-Kettering.

Additionally, Sloan-Kettering (and the Food and Drug Administration) requires patients to receive their initial shots of interferon while they are hospitalized. A lot of men want to try interferon at Sloan-Kettering before they try chemotherapy elsewhere.

It’s not hard to see why there’s such a waiting list to get into Sloan-Kettering.

Most hospital staffs are still so badly educated about AIDS that they don’t know much about it, except that they’ve heard it’s infectious. (There still have been no cases in hospital staff or among the very doctors who have been treating AIDS victims for two years.) Hence, as I said earlier, AIDS patients are often treated like lepers.

For various reasons, I would not like to be a patient at the Veterans Administration Hospital on East 24th Street or at New York Hospital. (Incidents involving AIDS patients at these two hospitals have been reported in news stories in the Native.)

larrykramerI believe it falls to this city’s Department of Health, under Commissioner David Sencer, and the Health and Hospitals Corporation, under Commissioner Stanley Brezenoff, to educate this city, its citizens, and its hospital workers about all areas of a public health emergency. Well, they have done an appalling job of educating our citizens, our hospital workers, and even, in some instances, our doctors. Almost everything this city knows about AIDS has come to it, in one way or another, through Gay Men’s Health Crisis. And that includes television programs, magazine articles, radio commercials, newsletters, health-recommendation brochures, open forums, and sending speakers everywhere, including – when asked – into hospitals. If three out of four AIDS cases were occurring in straights instead of in gay men, you can bet all hospitals and their staffs would know what was happening. And it would be this city’s Health Department and Health and Hospitals Corporation that would be telling them.

  • Let’s talk about what gay tax dollars are buying for gay men.

Now we’re arriving at the truly scandalous. For over a year and a half the National Institutes of Health has been “reviewing” which from among some $55 million worth of grant applications for AIDS research money it will eventually fund.

It’s not even a question of NIH having to ask Congress for money. It’s already there. Waiting. NIH has almost $8 million already appropriated that it has yet to release into usefulness.

There is no question that if this epidemic was happening to the straight, white, non-intravenous-drug-using middle class, it that money would have been put into use almost two years ago, when the first alarming signs of this epidemic were noticed by Dr. Alvin Friedman-Kien and Dr. Linda Laubenstein at New York University Hospital.

During the first two weeks of the Tylenol scare, the United States Government spent $10 million to find out what was happening.

Every hospital in New York that’s involved in AIDS research has used up every bit of the money it could find for researching AIDS while waiting for NIH grants to come through. These hospitals have been working on AIDS for up to two years and are now desperate for replenishing funds. Important studies that began last year, such as Dr. Michael Lange’s at St. Luke’s-Roosevelt, are now going under for lack of money. Important leads that were and are developing cannot be pursued. (For instance, few hospitals can afford plasmapheresis machines, and few patients can afford this experimental treatment either, since few insurance policies will cover the $16,600 bill.) New York University Hospital, the largest treatment center for AIDS patients in the world, has had its grant application pending at NIH for a year and a half. Even if the application is successful, the earliest time that NYU could receive any money would be late summer.

The NIH would probably reply that it’s foolish just to throw money away, that that hasn’t worked before. And, NIH would say, if nobody knows what’s happening, what’s to study?

Any good administrator with half a brain could survey the entire AIDS mess and come up with twenty leads that merit further investigation. I could do so myself. In any research, in any investigation, you have to start somewhere. You can’t just not start anywhere at all.

But then, AIDS is happening mostly to gay men, isn’t it?

All of this is indeed ironic. For within AIDS, as most researchers have been trying to convey to the NIH, perhaps may reside the answer to the question of what it is that causes cancer itself. If straights had more brains, or were less bigoted against gays, they would see that, as with hepatitis B, gay men are again doing their suffering for them, revealing this disease to them. They can use us as guinea pigs to discover the cure for AIDS before it hits them, which most medical authorities are still convinced will be happening shortly in increasing numbers.

(As if it had not been malevolent enough, the NIH is now, for unspecified reasons, also turning away AIDS patients from its hospital in Bethesda, Maryland. The hospital, which had been treating anyone and everyone with AIDS free of charge, now will only take AIDS patients if they fit into their current investigating protocol. Whatever that is. The NIH publishes “papers,” too.)

Gay men pay taxes just like everyone else. NIH money should be paying for our research just like everyone else’s. We desperately need something from our government to save our lives, and we’re not getting it.

  • Let’s talk about health insurance and welfare problems.

Many of the ways of treating AIDS are experimental, and many health insurance policies do not cover most of them. Blue Cross is particularly bad about accepting anything unusual.

Many serious victims of AIDS have been unable to qualify for welfare or disability or social security benefits. There are increasing numbers of men unable to work and unable to claim welfare because AIDS is not on the list of qualifying disability illnesses. (Immune deficiency is an acceptable determining factor for welfare among children, but not adults. Figure that one out.) There are also increasing numbers of men unable to pay their rent, men thrown out on the street with nowhere to live and no money to live with, and men who have been asked by roommates to leave because of their illnesses. And men with serious AIDS are being fired from certain jobs.

The horror stories in this area, of those suddenly found destitute, of those facing this illness with insufficient insurance, continue to mount. (One man who’d had no success on other therapies was forced to beg from his friends the $16,600 he needed to try, as a last resort, plasmapheresis.)

  • Finally, let’s talk about our mayor, Ed Koch.

Our mayor, Ed Koch, appears to have chosen, for whatever reason, not to allow himself to be perceived by the non-gay world as visibly helping us in this emergency. Repeated requests to meet with him have been denied us. Repeated attempts to have him make a very necessary public announcement about this crisis and public health emergency have been refused by his staff. I sometimes think he doesn’t know what’s going on. I sometimes think that, like some king who has been so long on his throne he’s lost touch with his people, Koch is so protected and isolated by his staff that he is unaware of what fear and pain we’re in. No human being could otherwise continue to be so useless to his suffering constituents. When I was allowed a few moments with him at a party for outgoing Cultural Affairs Commissioner (and Gay Men’s Health Crisis Advisory Board member) Henry Geldzahler, I could tell from his responses that mayor Koch had not been well briefed on AIDS or what is happening in his city. When I started to fill him in, I was pulled away by an aide, who said, “Your time is up.”

I could see our mayor relatively blameless in his shameful.secreting of himself from our need of him in this time of epidemic – except for one fact. Our mayor thinks so little of us that he has assigned as his “liaison” to the gay community a man of such appalling insensitivity to our community and its needs that I am ashamed to say he is a homosexual. His name is Herb Rickman, and for a while our mayor saw fit to have Rickman serve as liaison to the Hasidic Jewish community, too. Hasidic Jews hate gays. Figure out a mayor who would do that to you.

To continue to allow Herb Rickman to represent us in City Hall will, in my view, only bring us closer to death.

When I denounced Rickman at a recent gay Community Council meeting, I received a resounding ovation. He is almost universally hated by virtually every gay organization in New York. Why, then, have we all allowed this man to shit on us so, to refuse our phone calls, to scream at us hysterically, to slam down telephones, to threaten us, to tease us with favors that are not delivered, to keep us waiting hours for an audience, to lie to us – in short, to humiliate us so? He would not do this to black or Jewish leaders. And they would not take it from him for one minute. Why, why, why do we allow him to do it to us? And he, a homosexual!

One can only surmise that our mayor wants us treated this way.

My last attempt at communication with Herb Rickman was on January 23rd [1983], when, after several days of his not returning my phone calls, I wrote to him that the mayor continued to ignore our crisis at his peril. And I state here and now that if Mayor Ed Koch continues to remain invisible to us and to ignore us in this era of mounting death, I swear I shall do everything in my power to see that he never wins elective office again.

Rickman would tell you that the mayor is concerned, that he has established an “Inter-Departmental Task Force” – and, as a member of it, I will tell you that this Task Force is just lip service and a waste of everyone’s time. It hasn’t even met for two months. (Health Commissioner David Sencer had his gallstones out.)

On October 28th, 1982, Mayor Koch was implored to make a public announcement about our emergency. If he had done so then, and if he was only to do so now, the following would be put into action:

1. The community at large would be alerted (you would be amazed at how many people, including gay men, still don’t know enough about the AIDS danger).

2. Hospital staffs and public assistance offices would also be alerted and their education commenced.

3. The country, President Reagan, and the National Institutes of Health, as well as Congress, would be alerted, and these constitute the most important ears of all.

If the mayor doesn’t think it’s important enough to talk up AIDS, none of these people is going to, either.

The Mayor of New York has an enormous amount of power – when he wants to use it. When he wants to help his people. With the failure yet again of our civil rights bill, I’d guess our mayor doesn’t want to use his power to help us.

With his silence on AIDS, the Mayor of New York is helping to kill us.

* * *

I am sick of our electing officials who in no way represent us. I am sick of our stupidity in believing candidates who promise us everything for our support and promptly forget us and insult us after we have given them our votes. Koch is the prime example, but not the only one. Daniel Patrick Moynihan isn’t looking very good at this moment, either. Moynihan was requested by gay leaders to publicly ask Margaret Heckler at her confirmation hearing for Secretary of Health and Human Services if she could be fair to gays in view of her voting record of definite anti-gay bias. (Among other horrors, she voted to retain the sodomy law in Washington, D.C., at Jerry Falwell’s request.) Moynihan refused to ask this question, as he has refused to meet with us about AIDS, despite our repeated requests. Margaret Heckler will have important jurisdiction over the CDC, over the NIH, over the Public Health Service, over the Food and Drug Administration – indeed, over all areas of AIDS concerns. Thank you, Daniel Patrick Moynihan. I am sick of our not realizing we have enough votes to defeat these people, and I am sick of our not electing our own openly gay officials in the first place. Moynihan doesn’t even have an openly gay person on his staff, and he represents the city with the largest gay population in America.

I am sick of closeted gay doctors who won’t come out to help us fight to rectify any of what I’m writing about. Doctors – the very letters “M.D.” – have enormous clout, particularly when they fight in groups. Can you imagine what gay doctors could accomplish, banded together in a network, petitioning local and federal governments, straight colleagues, and the American Medical Association? I am sick of the passivity or nonparticipation or halfhearted protestation of all the gay medical associations (American Physicians for Human Rights, Bay Area Physicians for Human Rights, Gay Psychiatrists of New York, etc., etc.), and particularly our own New York Physicians for Human Rights, a group of 175 of our gay doctors who have, as a group, done nothing. You can count on one hand the number of our doctors who have really worked for us.

I am sick of the Advocate, one of this country’s largest gay publications, which has yet to quite acknowledge that there’s anything going on. That newspaper’s recent AIDS issue was so innocuous you’d have thought all we were going through was little worse than a rage of the latest designer flu. And their own associate editor, Brent Harris, died from AIDS. Figure that one out.

With the exception of the New York Native and a few, very few, other gay publications, the gay press has been useless. If we can’t get our own papers and magazines to tell us what’s really happening to us, and this negligence is added to the negligent non-interest of the straight press (The New York Times took a leisurely year and a half between its major pieces, and the Village Voice took a year and a half to write anything at all), how are we going to get the word around that we’re dying? Gay men in smaller towns and cities everywhere must be educated, too. Has the Times or the Advocate told you that twenty-nine cases have been reported from Paris?

I am sick of gay men who won’t support gay charities. Go give your bucks to straight charities, fellows, while we die. Gay Men’s Health Crisis is going crazy trying to accomplish everything it does – printing and distributing hundreds of thousands of educational items, taking care of several hundred AIDS victims (some of them straight) in and out of hospitals, arranging community forums and speakers all over this country, getting media attention, fighting bad hospital care, on and on and on, fighting for you and us in two thousand ways, and trying to sell 17,600 Circus tickets, too. Is the Red Cross doing this for you? Is the American Cancer Society? Your college alumni fund? The United Jewish Appeal? Catholic Charities? The United Way? The Lenox Hill Neighborhood Association, or any of the other fancy straight charities for which faggots put on black ties and dance at the Plaza? The National Gay Task Force – our only hope for national leadership, with its new and splendid leader, Virginia Apuzzo – which is spending more and more time fighting for the AIDS issue, is broke. Senior Action in a Gay Environment and Gay Men’s Health Crisis are, within a few months, going to be without office space they can afford, and thus will be out on the street. The St. Mark’s Clinic, held together by some of the few devoted gay doctors in this city who aren’t interested in becoming rich, lives in constant terror of even higher rent and eviction. This community is desperate for the services these organizations are providing for it. And these organizations are all desperate for money, which is certainly not coming from straight people or President Reagan or Mayor Koch. (If every gay man within a 250-mile radius of Manhattan isn’t in Madison Square Garden on the night of April 30th to help Gay Men’s Health Crisis make enough money to get through the next horrible year of fighting against AIDS, I shall lose all hope that we have any future whatsoever.)

I am sick of closeted gays. It’s 1983 already, guys, when are you going to come out? By 1984 you could be dead. Every gay man who is unable to come forward now and fight to save his own life is truly helping to kill the rest of us. There is only one thing that’s going to save some of us, and this is numbers and pressure and our being perceived as united and a threat. As more and more of my friends die, I have less and less sympathy for men who are afraid their mommies will find out or afraid their bosses will find out or afraid their fellow doctors or professional associates will find out. Unless we can generate, visibly, numbers, masses, we are going to die.

I am sick of everyone in this community who tells me to stop creating a panic. How many of us have to die before you get scared off your ass and into action? Aren’t 195 dead New Yorkers enough? Every straight person who is knowledgeable about the AIDS epidemic can’t understand why gay men aren’t marching on the White House. Over and over again I hear from them, “Why aren’t you guys doing anything?” Every politician I have spoken to has said to me confidentially, “You guys aren’t making enough noise. Bureaucracy only responds to pressure.”

I am sick of people who say “it’s no worse than statistics for smokers and lung cancer” or “considering how many homosexuals there are in the United States, AIDS is really statistically affecting only a very few.” That would wash if there weren’t 164 cases in twenty-eight days. That would wash if case numbers hadn’t jumped from 41 to 1,112 in eighteen months. That would wash if cases in one city – New York – hadn’t jumped to cases in fifteen countries and thirty-five states (up from thirty-four last week). That would wash if cases weren’t coming in at more than four a day nationally and over two a day locally. That would wash if the mortality rate didn’t start at 38 percent the first year of diagnosis and climb to a grotesque 86 percent after three years. Get your stupid heads out of the sand, you turkeys!

I am sick of guys who moan that giving up careless sex until this blows over is worse than death. How can they value life so little and cocks and asses so much? Come with me, guys, while I visit a few of our friends in Intensive Care at NYU. Notice the looks in their eyes, guys. They’d give up sex forever if you could promise them life.

I am sick of guys who think that all being gay means is sex in the first place. I am sick of guys who can only think with their cocks.

I am sick of “men” who say, “We’ve got to keep quiet or they will do such and such.” They usually means the straight majority, the “Moral” Majority, or similarly perceived representatives of them. Okay, you “men” – be my guests: You can march off now to the gas chambers; just get right in line.

We shall always have enemies. Nothing we can ever do will remove them. Southern newspapers and Jerry Falwell’s publications are already printing editorials proclaiming AIDS as God’s deserved punishment on homosexuals. So what? Nasty words make poor little sissy pansy wilt and die?

And I am very sick and saddened by every gay man who does not get behind this issue totally and with commitment – to fight for his life.

* * *

I don’t want to die. I can only assume you don’t want to die. Can we fight together?

For the past few weeks, about fifty community leaders and organization representatives have been meeting at Beth Simchat Torah, the gay synagogue, to prepare action. We call ourselves the AIDS Network. We come from all areas of health concern: doctors, social workers, psychologists, psychiatrists, nurses; we come from Gay Men’s Health Crisis, from the National Gay Health Education Foundation, from New York Physicians for Human Rights, the St. Mark’s Clinic, the Gay Men’s Health Project; we come from the gay synagogue, the Gay Men’s Chorus, from the Greater Gotham Business Council, SAGE, Lambda Legal Defense, Gay Fathers, the Christopher Street Festival Committee, Dignity, Integrity; we are lawyers, actors, dancers, architects, writers, citizens; we come from many component organizations of the Gay and Lesbian Community Council.

We have a leader. Indeed, for the first time our community appears to have a true leader. Her name is Virginia Apuzzo, she is head of the National Gay Task Force, and, as I have said, so far she has proved to be magnificent.

The AIDS Network has sent a letter to Mayor Koch. It “contains twelve points that are urged for his consideration and action.”

This letter to Mayor Koch also contains the following paragraph:

It must be stated at the outset that the gay community is growing increasingly aroused and concerned and angry. Should our avenues to the mayor of our city and the members of the Board of Estimate not be available, it is our feeling that the level of frustration is such that it will manifest itself in a manner heretofore not associated with this community and the gay population at large. It should be stated, too, at the outset, that as of February 25th, there were 526 cases of serious AIDS in New York’s metropolitan area and 195 deaths (and 1,112 cases nationally and 418 deaths) and it is the sad and sorry fact that most gay men in our city now have close friends and lovers who have either been stricken with or died from this disease. It is against this background that this letter is addressed. It is this issue that has, ironically, united our community in a way not heretofore thought possible.

Further, a number of AIDS Network members have been studying civil disobedience with one of the experts from Dr. Martin Luther King’s old team. We are learning how. Gay men are the strongest, toughest people I know. We are perhaps shortly to get an opportunity to show it.

I’m sick of hearing that Mayor Koch doesn’t respond to pressures and threats from the disenfranchised, that he walks away from confrontations. Maybe he does. But we have tried to make contact with him, we are dying, so what other choice but confrontation has he left us?

I hope we don’t have to conduct sit-ins or tie up traffic or get arrested. I hope our city and our country will start to do something to help start saving us. But it is time for us to be perceived for what we truly are: an angry community and a strong community, and therefore a threat. Such are the realities of politics. Nationally we are 24 million strong, which is more than there are Jews or blacks or Hispanics in this country.

I want to make a point about what happens if we don’t get angry about AIDS. There are the obvious losses, of course: Little of what I’ve written about here is likely to be rectified with the speed necessary to help the growing number of victims. But something worse will happen, and is already happening. Increasingly, we are being blamed for AIDS, for this epidemic; we are being called its perpetrators, through our blood, through our “promiscuity,” through just being the gay men so much of the rest of the world has learned to hate. We can point out until we are blue in the face that we are not the cause of AIDS but its victims, that AIDS has landed among us first, as it could have landed among them first. But other frightened populations are going to drown out these truths by playing on the worst bigoted fears of the straight world, and send the status of gays right back to the Dark Ages. Not all Jews are blamed for Meyer Lansky, Rabbis Bergman and Kahane, or for money-lending. All Chinese aren’t blamed for the recent Seattle slaughters. But all gays are blamed for John Gacy, the North American Man/Boy Love Association, and AIDS.

Enough. I am told this is one of the longest articles the Native has ever run. I hope I have not been guilty of saying ineffectively in five thousand words what I could have said in five: we must fight to live.

I am angry and frustrated almost beyond the bound my skin and bones and body and brain can encompass. My sleep is tormented by nightmares and visions of lost friends, and my days are flooded by the tears of funerals and memorial services and seeing my sick friends. How many of us must die before all of us living fight back?

I know that unless I fight with every ounce of my energy I will hate myself. I hope, I pray, I implore you to feel the same.

I am going to close by doing what Dr. Ron Grossman did at GMHC’s second Open Forum last November at Julia Richman High School. He listed the names of the patients he had lost to AIDS. Here is a list of twenty dead men I knew:

  • Nick Rock
  • Rick Wellikoff
  • Jack Nau
  • Shelly
  • Donald Krintzman
  • Jerry Green
  • Michael Maletta
  • Paul Graham
  • Toby
  • Harry Blumenthal
  • Stephen Sperry
  • Brian O’Hara
  • Barry
  • David
  • Jeffrey Croland
  • Z.
  • David Jackson
  • Tony Rappa
  • Robert Christian
  • Ron Doud

And one more, who will be dead by the time these words appear in print.

If we don’t act immediately, then we face our approaching doom.

* * *

Volunteers Needed for Civil Disobedience

It is necessary that we have a pool of at least three thousand people who are prepared to participate in demonstrations of civil disobedience. Such demonstrations might include sit-ins or traffic tie-ups. All participants must be prepared to be arrested. I am asking every gay person and every gay organization to canvass all friends and members and make a count of the total number of people you can provide toward this pool of three thousand.

Let me know how many people you can be counted on providing. Just include the number of people; you don’t have to send actual names – you keep that list yourself. And include your own phone numbers. Start these lists now.

L.K.

 

 

 

 

A Personal Appeal

It’s difficult to write this without sounding alarmist or too emotional or just plain scared.

If I had written this a month ago, I would have used the figure “40″.  If I had written this last week, I would have needed “80″. Today I must tell you that 120 gay men in the United States-most of them here in New York-are suffering from an often lethal form of cancer called Kaposi’s sarcoma or from a virulent form of pneumonia that may be associated with it.  More than thirty have died.

By the time you read this, the necessary figures may be much higher.

The men who have been stricken don’t appear to have done anything that many New York gay men haven’t done at one time or another.  We’re appalled that this is happening to them and terrified that it could happen to us.  It’s easy to become frightened that one of the many things we’ve done or taken over the past years may be all it takes for a cancer to grow from a tiny something-or-other that got in there who knows when from doing who knows what.

In four months, the number has risen to 120 of us stricken and 30 of us dead.

The majority of Kaposi cases are being tended to at New York University Medical Centre.  The doctor who is most on top of this situation is there, Dr. Alvin Friedman-Kien.  He and his associates are passionately determined to help take care of us and to find out what’s going on here.

Money is desperately needed, both for their research, which is going on around the clock, and for the treatment and chemotherapy of many of the patients who have no money or medical insurance.

I hope you will write a check and get your friends to write one, too.  This is our disease and we must take care of each other and ourselves.  In the past we have often been a divided community; I hope we can get together on this emergency, undivided, cohesively, and with all the numbers we in many ways possess.

New York Native, Issue 19, august 24-september 6, 1981

Larry Kramer

 

The Benefits of Milk

“The fact of his homosexuality gave Harvey an insight into the scars which all oppressed people wear…He believed that no sacrifice was too great a price to pay for the cause of human rights.”

harvey Pirart milk

Shortly before he was assassinated on November 27, 1978, San Francisco City Supervisor Harvey Milk stated that, “If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door.” Harvey Milk was the first openly gay political candidate to win an election at a time homosexuality was misunderstood by the general public and fear still kept many gays and lesbians in the closet. Writing in Time magazine over a decade later, John Cloud observed that, “…he had to adjust to a new reality he embodied: that a gay person could live an honest life and succeed.”

Harvey Milk’s Early Life and Influence

There was no “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when Milk served in the navy. Being gay in the 1950’s simply meant that you didn’t tell. In high school, Harvey Milk was on the junior varsity basketball team. After his years in the navy, he worked as a Math and history teacher and later campaigned for Senator Barry Goldwater. But Milk didn’t hide from being gay, championing gay rights as he became politically involved after moving to San Francisco with his lover.

Harvey Milk built a political club that enabled his election victory but also demonstrated that the gay vote was important. After his death, politicians took a more proactive stance in courting this voting group. Normalization in terms of heterosexual perceptions years after Milk’s assassination played a large part in the legalization of same-sex marriages and the general acceptance of so-called civil unions. Milk’s election as an openly-gay man and his subsequent murder forced observers to react, and in doing so brought issues into the public sphere that had never been openly discussed.

After his death, San Francisco Mayor Dianne Feinstein observed that, “The fact of his homosexuality gave Harvey an insight into the scars which all oppressed people wear…He believed that no sacrifice was too great a price to pay for the cause of human rights.” (Quoted in New York Times, December 3, 1978) Over three decades after Milk and Mayor George Moscone were shot by Dan White, same-sex marriages are allowed in several states and homosexuality is no longer viewed as a mental disorder or perversion.

The Fight for Civil Rights

Although there were many heroes within the gay community in the latter decades of the twentieth-century, especially during the first years of the AIDS crisis, Harvey Milk established a precedent and became a political role model. In his biographical account, The Mayor of Castro Street, Randy Shilts observes that Harvey Milk “…remains frozen in time, a symbol of what gays can accomplish and the dangers they face in doing so.”

During his brief tenure as a Supervisor, Milk shepherded a Gay Rights ordinance toward passage that protected gays from being fired from their jobs because of sexual orientation. Had his life not ended prematurely, Milk might have brought the leadership and energy needed in the early years of the AIDS epidemic to confront the disease much sooner than it was, saving lives and promoting awareness. Milk fought for civil rights for all groups, including senior citizens.

Harvey Milk’s Battle Continues

Harvey Milk has been referred to as an “unlikely populist.” KQED/PBS correctly assessed that, “…If a gay man can win, it proves that there is hope for all minorities who are willing to fight.” Thirty-five years after Milk was gunned down in his City Hall office, homosexuality is still a moral issue and part of political debate. GOP candidate Herman Cain believes that homosexuality is a sin (Jonathan Capehart, Washington Post, October 20, 2011). Michele Bachmann, during a Meet the Press interview with David Gregory (August 14, 2011) dodged any direct questions put to her about homosexuality, although her husband runs a clinic that “cures” gays.

Discrimination and gay-bashing continues. On October 12, 1998, Matthew Shepard was murdered in Colorado. The horrific crime highlighted on-going persecution of gays in American society. Shepard was tortured and left to die in what has come to epitomize a hate crime. Contemporary concerns regarding bullying in the nation’s schools has also focused on the plight of gay teens. In mid-October 2011, a male cheerleader at Alice High School in Texas was kicked off the varsity team after a school surveillance camera recorded him kissing another male student.

Harvey Milk directed critics to see gays as people that deserve full equality with every other American. Keeping differences a secret, as Shilts notes in his biography of Milk, was learned early in life as a survival mechanism. Harvey Milk, however, soon determined that the fullness of acknowledging one’s humanity is determined by self-honesty. For Milk, that meant embracing who he was.

References:

  • John Cloud, “The Pioneer HARVEY MILK,” Time, June 14, 1999
  • John M. Crewdson, “Harvey Milk, Led Coast Homosexual-Rights Fight,” New York Times, November 28, 1978
  • Larry Kramer, “Gay ‘Power’ Here,” New York Times, December 3, 1978
  • Randy Shilts, And The Band Played On: Politics, People, And The AIDS Epidemic (St. Martin’s Press, 1987)
  • Randy Shilts, The Mayor of Castro Street: The Life and Times of Harvey Milk (St. Martin’s Griffin, 1988)

 

Copyright Michael Streich

Read more at Suite101: Harvey Milk’s Legacy and Example | Suite101 http://suite101.com/article/harvey-milks-legacy-and-example-a394516#ixzz2PLqeSUQT
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Lady Gaga Fans Slam Madonna’s GLAAD Award Engagement, Link Pop Diva To AIDS Crisis

It’s a real shame when the voice of a few can tarnish the reputation of the masses, and these Little Monsters attacking Madonna by claiming she contributed to the spread of AIDS in the 80s are doing just that.  Maybe it’s time for Mother Monster to pull them in line.

I wonder what my childhood would have been like with Twitter…

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Lady Gaga Fans Slam Madonna’s GLAAD Award Engagement, Link Pop Diva To AIDS Crisis

There’s no end in sight for the longstanding Madonna-Lady Gaga feud — at least as far as the dueling divas’ fans are concerned.

Now a pack of “Little Monsters” is petitioning the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD), requesting that Madonna not be allowed to present Anderson Cooper with the prestigious Vito Russo Award at the GLAAD Media Awards ceremony in New York on March 16.

UPDATE: 5:16 p.m. — The petition and blog referred to in this story has been removed from the Lady Gaga fan’s website. Story continues below…

Deeming GLAAD’s decision to tap the Material Girl “an insult to a true gay rights activist like Lady Gaga,” the Gaga fan blog Little Monster Artpop make an even more heinous suggestion, labeling Madge “one of the major reasons for AIDS.”

Read more

Why We Should Thank Our Lucky Stars For Madonna

“Why is it that these women have forgotten how great it was to have a role model that not only stuck it to the man, but then stuck it to herself, in herself and tasted it as if to say how dare you moderate my sexuality?”

Barry Church-Woods


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I’m a Madonna fan.

For a lot of people of my generation it came with being gay. Like the pop culture equivalent of the gentleman’s lavender handkerchief or Truman Capote’s dickie bow, loving a certain someone from Rochester, Michigan whilst owning a penis has for a long time insinuated that you would like to get into the groove in a way that doesn’t just involve dancing.

Being a Madonna fan replaced the word bachelor for a while.

My grandmother used to introduce me to her friends as a ‘Madonna fan’. When I showed up at parties dressed in a conical bra with a fake head-mic on, it was because I was a ‘Madonna fan’. When I nearly set fire to the back garden, burning crucifixes and dancing in front of them, it was because I was a ‘Madonna fan’.

It seems that lately, Madonna had become a dirty word and the press are ready to crucify her at every step.

She’s recently been in the media for her shocking antics in Malawi.  The terrible thing she did last year?  She built 10 extensions to existing schools creating education opportunities for 500 children and young people.  She should have built 10 schools apparently, but lets be honest, progress is progress no matter how long it takes to get there.

She also got her boob out on tour, came on stage two hours late most nights and called famous nazi Marine Le Penne out for being a…wait for it…a nazi.

Oh, and we mustn’t forget this one.  She adopted two children from a third world country where they were sure to suffer disease and malnutrition from severe poverty, and she…she fed them.  And clothed them.  And gave them a nice home with a nanny.  The cheeky cow.  How dare she?

Around the time of the release of her film W.E., Madonna mentioned in an interview with Harper’s Bazaar that nowadays when anyone writes anything about her, her age is right after her name as if to limit her achievements or remind her that society would like her to stop soon.

A quick online search finds this to be true. It also finds that most of the negativity thrown at her in the past 10 years has been from women. Women that grew up singing along to True Blue in the mirror with a hairbrush, bleaching their hair in the 80s, and wearing lace gloves to weddings when they were kids. Women who it seems would now prefer her to crawl under a rock and stop doing what the world fell in love with her for in the first place.

Why is it that these women have forgotten how great it was to have a role model that not only stuck it to the man, but then stuck it to herself, in herself and tasted it as if to say how dare you moderate my sexuality?

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What has made them forget the sheer joy or behaving in complete contradiction to how society would expect them to? The role model that once told them that she wanted to conquer the world seems to have done just that and yes, dreams really do come true.

For some.

Sadly, it seems that many of those little girls being told there was a new tomorrow where anything was possible have now grown into the jaded bitchy fat girls in the corner, unhappy with their 9-5 existence in their cul-de-sac in Bury St. Edmunds (or equivalent), jealous of the continued success of the woman that defined a generation.

Madonna’s latest album MDNA seems to have been a commercial flop. While much of the media read it for what it is, a fun up-tempo record with some great production, the same women I’ve been writing about complained that it didn’t have the depth befitting of a 53 year old woman. That someone with children should be singing about heartbreak and pain. That Kate Bush just did an album about fucking a snowman that was brilliant and Madonna should do something similar or give up.

The fact that Madonna’s film W.E. depicts a very real time in history, where a man gave up his throne the be with the woman he loved is not without irony set against the backdrop of calls for a reigning Queen to abdicate her throne to a more suitable suitor. Someone more bendy, more youthful perhaps? Someone that doesn’t wear leotards? Someone that acts her age?

But really, deep down, we know what these critics want.

They want her to fuck off and stop reminding them of all of their failures and broken dreams.

But she can’t.  And shouldn’t.  And mustn’t. And here’s why we need her here to stay in the public eye.  At least another few years.

Growing up in the 80s, girls wanted to be her, boys wanted to fuck her and boyz wanted to fuck like her.  She was an instant role model.

She was the first voice I ever heard saying that homosexuality was an acceptable way of life.

Until then, the only other person I’d heard talk about homosexuality was Jerry Falwell. In 1968 he said that preachers are not called to be politicians, but soul winners, and sixteen years later, his hypocrisy shone through as he led a movement that helped put Ronald Reagan in the White House, conservatives on the Supreme Court, and turned the Democratic South solidly Republican.

Bad.  Yes.

But then he did this.

He funded an international campaign to recognize AIDS as “God’s punishment for being a faggot”.  Not just that.  It was also God’s punishment to the world, for allowing faggots to exist.

Imagine all that power; having a voice like that?  A voice that was heard all over the world.  A voice that was heard by this 13 year old “faggot” in a council estate in West Lothian, Scotland.

Now I was always taught not to speak ill of the dead.  But it is hard when the dead person was a hateful cunt of a man.

His harmful opinions were set against a backdrop of political inefficiency and lack of education about HIV and AIDS that allowed the disease to progress at a rate unheard of before for something that wasn’t airborne.

But then came Like a Prayer.

Amongst all of the controversy of the brilliant video and the scandal of a $5million Pepsi deal gone wrong, Madonna did something wonderful.  Something very simple and under the radar.  Something missed by most parents and God fearing Christians. In the album sleeve-notes, she inserted some writing about the dangers of HIV and AIDS.  And a safe sex message.  In one simple move, she’d countered the hatred and broken the firewall to information…for her fans at least.  Did I mention a lot of them were gay?

Prayerinsert

From that point on, Madonna started to raise her game.  Acting out in public to get her message across.  Bending the ear of her loyal army of fans and helping the message infiltrate society.

It’s OK to be gay. 

She pushed buttons, she changed fashion, she changed buttons, she pushed fashion.  Her impact was so endless for this 36 year old homo that it actually took me until I was 17 to realise that the Madonna/Whore complex wasn’t a statement about how my sister dressed and was actually rooted in a time before Madame Ciccone.

And to this day, she continues to support the LGBT community across the globe by using her position and status to keep hitting home with the same message:

“You cannot use religion to treat other people badly, you cannot use God’s name to treat other people badly, we all deserve love,”

Change is happening. One day, equality will shine through. But we’re not there yet ,and personally I don’t think it’s time for the LGBT community to lose a voice that defined a generation.

Thank you Madonna.

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The Day Larry Kramer Kissed Me

“After reading the Crucible and realising what a cunt I’d made of myself I desperately needed something to redeem my confidence. I wanted the perfect role. A solid, deep 3 minutes that showcased my range and my cast-ability for the upcoming seasons. An engaging speech that showcased my face, voice and physicality”.

Barry Church-Woods

At 17, my best friend; Gay Craig and I auditioned for drama schools together. I’d already fucked one up massively the year before; determined to get out of school as soon as I could*.

*Apparently, if you don’t read the whole script, it is possible to play a John Proctor monologue from the Crucible in a green pinstripe suit while smoking a cigar. (Add to this the fact that I had a shaved head and a quiff, I’m actually pretty impressed that the audition panel didn’t laugh in the face of the young clueless boy that looked like Ani Defranco playing at being a grown up).

Fortunately, a year makes a massive difference when you’re that young.

With a little more maturity, I was ready to throw myself to the lions again. In the spring of 93, with the hope of being afforded the rare and sought after opportunity of becoming Leroy from Fame, I started to work on my tan. And my monologues.

For those of you that are fortunate enough not to have undergone the humiliating process of auditioning to get work, you should know it’s the equivalent of giving a dog a biscuit for rolling over or giving good paw. But instead of a crunchy treat, your tricks need to be of a standard to convince a director, panel of lecturers and sometimes even your contemporaries that you are worthy of the opportunity you are chasing. Sometimes it’s a day’s work that will pay your bills for a month. At other times, it’s the opportunity to develop professionally and be in with a much better chance of getting work in the future.

We were facing the latter and were about to embark on a series of auditions to get into one of three sought after courses available to aspiring actors in Scotland.

As such, we needed the perfect monologues to convince potential course heads that we were exactly the right people to occupy their hallways, singing arias while stag leaping our way to superstardom.

After reading the Crucible and realising what a cunt I’d made of myself I desperately needed something to redeem my confidence. I wanted the perfect role. A solid, deep 3 minutes that showcased my range and my cast-ability for the upcoming seasons. An engaging speech that showcased my face, voice and physicality.

I searched libraries far and wide for the perfect character. Something about a teenager from a council estate. Someone from West Lothian.

Passing Places. The Life of Stuff. Find Me. Trainspotting. The list of opportunities was endless. I worked on four or five different performances. Night and day. Day and night. Over and over again until they were all instinctive. I was all ready to go when Craig brought me something that he said was perfect for me…

Bruce Niles, a thirty-something ex marine from New York whose boyfriend had just died of AIDS.

Perfect.

Here’s a picture of me at 17.

Regardless of how inappropriate the casting would be in the real world, the writing was so powerful that I elected to create a tailored performance around the piece.

It got me into college.

From that point in, I developed an incredible relationship with the play, it’s themes and it’s author.

In my second year at college I used WH Auden’s poem September 1st 1939 as stimuli for a street performance for World Aids Day. The Normal Heart took its name from the poem. This was the start of a long relationship with World Aids Day.

As a director and producer, my first publicly staged work was a preview of a section of the play and my first successfully written funding application was from the Health Education Board of Scotland for the full show to be produced. Incidentally, this also bred my first BBC radio interview for that production and egotistically my first ever standing-ovation.
The first cast of The Normal Heart

Revisiting the monologue in my graduation showcase at the Pleasance got me cast in my first film and when a few years later, I applied for a grown up job as a Cultural Coordinator for Fife Council, it was apparent that where I was in my life at that particular time all came back to The Normal Heart.

That job opened so many doors for me professionally that by 2007 when I restaged the Normal Heart with Civil Disobedience it was with the full support of Larry Kramer, at the National Museum of Scotland and came with an editorial in the Sunday Herald.

26 years after it was first written, the play is as powerful as ever. It’s recently been revived on Broadway and Ryan Murphy has announced that he had been given the film rights. Personally, I can’t wait to see what the creator of Glee, Nip Tuck and American Horror Story does with it.

As I sit in my beautiful Edinburgh flat contemplating my incredible job, today I’m raising a glass to Larry Kramer and all the boys from Act Up. But most importantly, I’m raising it to big gay Craig and the wonderful moment he created that set me on this track.

Homo Nest Raided, Queen Bees Are Stinging Mad – Stonewall Revisited

“A beauty of a specimen named Stella wailed uncontrollably while being led to the sidewalk in front of the Stonewall by a cop. She later confessed that she didn’t protest the manhandling by the officer, it was just that her hair was in curlers and she was afraid her new beau might be in the crowd and spot her. She didn’t want him to see her this way, she wept”.

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Barry Church-Woods

Last weekend, Joe and I embarked on a pub crawl with a difference.  Both of us had been to New York before but neither had ever hit the infamous Christopher Street.

In the 1970s, Christopher Street became the “Main Street” of gay New York. Large numbers of gay men would promenade its length at all hours. Gay bars and stores selling leather fetish clothing and artistic decorative items flourished at that time. It’s also the birthplace of Gay Pride, being the site of the original Stonewall Inn, the venue that was raided by police and became the catalyst for the Stonewall riots.

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@JosefCW on Christopher Street

Much has changed on Christopher Street since 1969.

It’s a wonderfully cosmopolitan street with beautiful architecture and many a classy joint (if you avert your eyes from Boots ‘n Saddle, a dive bar that sells $3 pints at happy hour).  But it struck me thinking about its history that the most significant change is in attitudes.

Indeed, this Monday past we witnessed the birth of a new era of equality.  An era where the President of the USA’s inaugural speech spoke of LGBT equality, where Richard Blanco, became the first openly gay person to deliver the inaugural poem and where the Benediction delivered by the Rev. Luis Leon included the paragraph:

With the blessing of your blessing we will see that we are created in your image, whether brown, black or white, male or female, first generation or immigrant American, or daughter of the American Revolution, gay or straight, rich or poor.”

Times are changing and this is something we should celebrate.  It struck me that 1969 is not that long ago.  44 years to be precise.  The same year activist Spencer Cox was born, that Led Zeppelin released their first album, that John Lennon and Yoko Ono got married and staged their Bed In and of course it was the year of the first moon landing.  So in recent history, it was really not that long ago.

The following text comes from the New York Daily News, the day after the Stonewall Riots.  It’s a fascinating insight into how much has changed.

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HOMO NEST RAIDED, QUEEN BEES ARE STINGING MAD

She sat there with her legs crossed, the lashes of her mascara-coated eyes beating like the wings of a hummingbird. She was angry. She was so upset she hadn’t bothered to shave. A day old stubble was beginning to push through the pancake makeup. She was a he. A queen of Christopher Street.

Last weekend the queens had turned commandos and stood bra strap to bra strap against an invasion of the helmeted Tactical Patrol Force. The elite police squad had shut down one of their private gay clubs, the Stonewall Inn at 57 Christopher St., in the heart of a three-block homosexual community in Greenwich Village. Queen Power reared its bleached blonde head in revolt. New York City experienced its first homosexual riot. “We may have lost the battle, sweets, but the war is far from over,” lisped an unofficial lady-in-waiting from the court of the Queens.

“We’ve had all we can take from the Gestapo,” the spokesman, or spokeswoman, continued. “We’re putting our foot down once and for all.” The foot wore a spiked heel. According to reports, the Stonewall Inn, a two-story structure with a sand painted brick and opaque glass facade, was a mecca for the homosexual element in the village who wanted nothing but a private little place where they could congregate, drink, dance and do whatever little girls do when they get together.

The thick glass shut out the outside world of the street. Inside, the Stonewall bathed in wild, bright psychedelic lights, while the patrons writhed to the sounds of a juke box on a square dance floor surrounded by booths and tables. The bar did a good business and the waiters, or waitresses, were always kept busy, as they snaked their way around the dancing customers to the booths and tables. For nearly two years, peace and tranquility reigned supreme for the Alice in Wonderland clientele.

The Raid Last Friday

Last Friday the privacy of the Stonewall was invaded by police from the First Division. It was a raid. They had a warrant. After two years, police said they had been informed that liquor was being served on the premises. Since the Stonewall was without a license, the place was being closed. It was the law.

All hell broke loose when the police entered the Stonewall. The girls instinctively reached for each other. Others stood frozen, locked in an embrace of fear.

Only a handful of police were on hand for the initial landing in the homosexual beachhead. They ushered the patrons out onto Christopher Street, just off Sheridan Square. A crowd had formed in front of the Stonewall and the customers were greeted with cheers of encouragement from the gallery.

The whole proceeding took on the aura of a homosexual Academy Awards Night. The Queens pranced out to the street blowing kisses and waving to the crowd. A beauty of a specimen named Stella wailed uncontrollably while being led to the sidewalk in front of the Stonewall by a cop. She later confessed that she didn’t protest the manhandling by the officer, it was just that her hair was in curlers and she was afraid her new beau might be in the crowd and spot her. She didn’t want him to see her this way, she wept.

Queen Power

The crowd began to get out of hand, eye witnesses said. Then, without warning, Queen Power exploded with all the fury of a gay atomic bomb. Queens, princesses and ladies-in-waiting began hurling anything they could get their polished, manicured fingernails on. Bobby pins, compacts, curlers, lipstick tubes and other femme fatale missiles were flying in the direction of the cops. The war was on. The lilies of the valley had become carnivorous jungle plants.

Urged on by cries of “C’mon girls, lets go get’em,” the defenders of Stonewall launched an attack. The cops called for assistance. To the rescue came the Tactical Patrol Force.

Flushed with the excitement of battle, a fellow called Gloria pranced around like Wonder Woman, while several Florence Nightingales administered first aid to the fallen warriors. There were some assorted scratches and bruises, but nothing serious was suffered by the honeys turned Madwoman of Chaillot.

Official reports listed four injured policemen with 13 arrests. The War of the Roses lasted about 2 hours from about midnight to 2 a.m. There was a return bout Wednesday night.

Two veterans recently recalled the battle and issued a warning to the cops. “If they close up all the gay joints in this area, there is going to be all out war.”

Bruce and Nan

Both said they were refugees from Indiana and had come to New York where they could live together happily ever after. They were in their early 20′s. They preferred to be called by their married names, Bruce and Nan.

“I don’t like your paper,” Nan lisped matter-of-factly. “It’s anti-fag and pro-cop.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t see what they did to the Stonewall. Did the pigs tell you that they smashed everything in sight? Did you ask them why they stole money out of the cash register and then smashed it with a sledge hammer? Did you ask them why it took them two years to discover that the Stonewall didn’t have a liquor license.”

Bruce nodded in agreement and reached over for Nan’s trembling hands.

“Calm down, doll,” he said. “Your face is getting all flushed.”

Nan wiped her face with a tissue.

“This would have to happen right before the wedding. The reception was going to be held at the Stonewall, too,” Nan said, tossing her ashen-tinted hair over her shoulder.

“What wedding?,” the bystander asked.

Nan frowned with a how-could-anybody-be-so-stupid look. “Eric and Jack’s wedding, of course. They’re finally tieing the knot. I thought they’d never get together.”

Meet Shirley

“We’ll have to find another place, that’s all there is to it,” Bruce sighed. “But every time we start a place, the cops break it up sooner or later.”

“They let us operate just as long as the payoff is regular,” Nan said bitterly. “I believe they closed up the Stonewall because there was some trouble with the payoff to the cops. I think that’s the real reason. It’s a shame. It was such a lovely place. We never bothered anybody. Why couldn’t they leave us alone?”

Shirley Evans, a neighbor with two children, agrees that the Stonewall was not a rowdy place and the persons who frequented the club were never troublesome. She lives at 45 Christopher St.

“Up until the night of the police raid there was never any trouble there,” she said. “The homosexuals minded their own business and never bothered a soul. There were never any fights or hollering, or anything like that. They just wanted to be left alone. I don’t know what they did inside, but that’s their business. I was never in there myself. It was just awful when the police came. It was like a swarm of hornets attacking a bunch of butterflies.”

A reporter visited the now closed Stonewall and it indeed looked like a cyclone had struck the premisses.

Police said there were over 200 people in the Stonewall when they entered with a warrant. The crowd outside was estimated at 500 to 1,000. According to police, the Stonewall had been under observation for some time. Being a private club, plain clothesmen were refused entrance to the inside when they periodically tried to check the place. “They had the tightest security in the Village,” a First Division officer said, “We could never get near the place without a warrant.”

Police Talk

The men of the First Division were unable to find any humor in the situation, despite the comical overtones of the raid.

“They were throwing more than lace hankies,” one inspector said. “I was almost decapitated by a slab of thick glass. It was thrown like a discus and just missed my throat by inches. The beer can didn’t miss, though, “it hit me right above the temple.”

Police also believe the club was operated by Mafia connected owners. The police did confiscate the Stonewall’s cash register as proceeds from an illegal operation. The receipts were counted and are on file at the division headquarters. The warrant was served and the establishment closed on the grounds it was an illegal membership club with no license, and no license to serve liquor.

The police are sure of one thing. They haven’t heard the last from the Girls of Christopher Street.

“The New York Daily News,” July 6, 1969

 

How To Survive A Plague Gets Oscar Nod

We were delighted this afternoon to see the David France’s documentary about ACT UP and TAG has been nominated for an Academy Award in the Best Documentary category.  This recognition is particularly poignant with the death of one of the films subjects Spencer Cox last month.  Let’s hope it gets the win, which will ensure wider international distribution.

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