Windy City Times, The Voice of Chicago's Gay and Lesbian Community, Nov. 29, 2000Copyright © 2000 Lambda Publications Inc. All rights reserved. |
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by Marie Kuda
As I prepare to fly to San Francisco to see the exhibit of Romaine Brooks' paintings at UC Berkley, I can't help but remember an earlier trip, also in November, 22 years ago. I left Chicago to spend six months there, house-sitting for my cousin, a professor of Anthropology who was leaving on sabbatical. Arriving Nov. 7, 1978, I walked with my cousin up the hill in DuBose park to his polling place as he voted against Proposition 6 on the ballot, the infamous Briggs initiative. Fifty-eight percent of California's voters opted to reject Sen. John Briggs' anti-gay gay proposition that would have made it illegal for homosexuals to teach in California schools.
That night we walked over to the Castro to check out the huge celebration that had poured out on the streets. Of all the speeches, I only remember Sally Gearhart's&emdash;she was a former Texas Homecoming Queen who wrote the lesbian sci-fi, The Wanderground.
Enroute, my cousin showed me the camera shop that had been Harvey Milk's headquarters in his successful bid to get elected to San Francisco's Board of Supervisors. The nine Supervisors were equivalent to Chicago's Aldermen. On Nov. 8, 1977&emdash;just one year earlier&emdash;Milk had become the first openly gay elected official of any large U.S. city. My cousin told me how Milk had planted some doggie-do in DuBose Park and contrived to step in it during an impromptu press conference to illustrate to area voters their common concern over local issues.
Milk's election and the defeat of the Briggs initiative were perceived nationally as extremely important lines-in-the-sand drawn in response to the "Save the Children" campaign spearheaded by Anita Bryant. The former Miss America, and spokesperson for the Florida Citrus Growers Association, led the anti-gay campaign against the municipal gay-rights ordinance that had been passed in Dade County. In June of 1977 Dade County (Miami) Florida residents voted 2-to-1 to repeal the ordinance. Havey Milk's election had come at the height of the backlash to Bryant. With the boycott of Florida orange juice, California citrus had a growing economic stake in the conflict as well.
The bitterness of those opposing sides echo in the lines drawn against Dr. Laura in her recent bid for a niche in daytime talk TV. As gay and lesbian spokespersons became more vocal and more visible, the opposition became more vehement. An added element in San Francisco was the increasing openness of the community. In 1976 gay police officers began to come out; in February of 1977 the city hosted the first gay film festival. Bars, restaurants and baths buzzed in those pre-AIDS days. When I got there Castro clones wore close-cropped hair, mustaches, tight white t-shirts, blue jeans and shit-kickers. My cousin liked to breakfast at Daddy's a military-style restaurant whose hostess wore a WAC uniform, bright red lipstick, and nylon stockings with prominent seams. The menus were stenciled; flowers in canteens sat on each table. The crew-cut waiters were hunky in camouflage, with paratrooper boots and dog tags. When Chicago friends came to visit I took them to upscale Elephant Walk or dropped them at the Folsom baths. I hung out at Scot's, a tough little lesbian dive across DuBose Park' or went to Maud's with local friends. Tee Corinne took me to the women's coffeehouse Antigone on my birthday and Ameilia's for dancing. But that was later&emdash;after the murders.
On Nov. 9, the papers ran writer Janet Flanner's obituary; my cousin and his lover left for India on the 13th&emdash;melancholy had set in. I started separating from Chicago, thought about relocating to San Francisco and got a local drivers' license. On the 19th the news of the hundreds of Kool-Aid suicides in Guyana began filtering in. Many local churches had lost members to Jim Jones' cult and soon the media coverage was round the clock. On Nov. 27, when the first reports came out that Mayor George Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk had been shot at City Hall, there was speculation that it was somehow connected to the deaths in South America. (Incidentally, Stryker and Buskirk's 1996 Gay by the Bay: A History of Queer Culture in the San Francisco Bay Area erroneously notes the date as Nov. 21 on p.78).
It wasn't long into the evening before the details of the murders came out&emdash;Milk and Moscone had been killed by former Supervisor and ex-cop, Dan White. White had resigned his position after several contretemps with Milk, and was running the family potato stand in the food court at the newly opened tourist attraction, Pier 39. Right wingers had urged him to reconsider, and he had apparently gone to Moscone to withdraw the resignation. Moscone refused, and was shot&emdash;White then went down the hall and killed Milk. It later came out that he had evaded the metal sensors by carrying his concealed gun in through a basement window&emdash;not really a spontaneous act. People gravitated to the Castro&emdash;and a candlelight march took off for the Civic Center Plaza. Stunned folks left in bunches after Joan Baez sang. The next morning, after a fairly sleepless night I went out on the Castro. As early as 8 a.m. shop windows were draped in lavender and black. Photographs of Milk (probably from his election campaign) were everywhere. I joined a crowd of 3,000 at the San Francisco Opera House&emdash;days earlier I had come to hear Beethoven's Fidelio&emdash;for a memorial service; another 2,500 people gathered outside. I remember Anne Kronenberg spoke, mentioning a prescient tape Milk had made. Afterwards, the audience was invited to take roses from the floral pieces as a remembrance&emdash;I still have mine.
I was back in Chicago when White's trial came up in May with its manslaughter conviction on the incredible "Twinkie defense"&emdash;until O.J.'s acquittal, the most dumfounding jury decision in history. I wasn't there for the "White Night" riots that erupted in protest, or the counter reaction from the cops bashing gays and trashing the Elephant Walk. I was back in California in 1985 when, within a year of his release from prison, Dan White committed suicide.
I often wonder now, if it isn't better to have folks like Anita Bryant and Dr. Laura out there where we can see them and refute their errors rather than making them martyrs to those that hatch plots in their private hells. An international figure, former Solidarity leader and Polish President Lech Walensa, made sickening remarks against gays but our gay-media leadership barely gave him a nod. It apparently isn't deemed prudent to attack presidents, popes, or even Chicago cardinal archbishops. Better to choose battles more quickly won with less popular affront&emdash;uppity women are an easier target. Seems like we shouldn't be too smug in walking away in momentary triumph after we stir up a pot&emdash;consequences may yet follow.
Copyright 2000 by Marie J. Kuda.
e-mail: kudoschgo@aol.com
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