Showing posts with label Stories of Pride. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stories of Pride. Show all posts

Monday, June 24, 2019

Stories of Pride: Before Pulse, There Was The UpStairs Lounge

Forty-six years ago today, four years after Stonewall, the 24th of June, 1973 was a Sunday in New Orleans and the last day of that city’s Pride Weekend. Of course, even in those days after Stonewall, you couldn’t really have an open celebration of Pride because there was still an ignorance of the LGBTQ community and it wasn’t safe, sometimes, even in New Orleans, to be openly gay. Still, there were places to gather and party and celebrate and be gay, like the second-floor bar on the corner of Iberville and Chartres Street; the UpStairs Lounge.

That day, members of the Metropolitan Community Church [MCC], the nation’s first gay church, founded in Los Angeles in 1969, gathered at the UpStairs for drinks and conversation. It seems to have been a welcoming, accepting, open, group; two attendees, gay brothers, Eddie and Jim Warren, even brought their mom, Inez, and proudly introduced her to the other patrons.


It was a party until … just before 8PM, the doorbell rang insistently. To answer it, you had to unlock a steel door that opened onto a flight of stairs leading down to the ground floor. Buddy Rasmussen, an UpStairs bartender, was expecting a taxi driver and asked his friend Luther Boggs to let the driver in.

But it wasn’t a taxi driver at the door; it was an attacker, who had sprayed lighter fluid on the stairs and set ablaze as Boggs opened the door. A fireball pushed into the stairwell, and up towards the bar, engulfing the room and those gathered in flames.

MCC assistant pastor George “Mitch” Mitchell escaped, but came back in hopes of rescuing his boyfriend, Louis Broussard. Both men died in the fire, their bodies clinging together in death. The metal bars on the windows, meant to keep people from falling out, were just 14 inches apart, and most men and women were unable to squeeze through. That’s how MCC pastor, Bill Larson, died that night, screaming “Oh, God, no!”  After the fire, when police and firefighters surveyed the damage and began clearing the scene, they left Larson fused to the window frame until the next morning.


Thirty-two people lost their lives that Sunday 40 years ago—Luther Boggs, Inez Warren and her two sons, among them. And yet, even more sad, and disgusting, was that homophobia was so rampant in those days, families of some of those who died that night refused to claim the bodies, and local churches would not perform burials for the dead, or allow memorials to take place within their walls. Three victims were never identified or claimed, and were interred at the local potter’s field.

Three people considered unworthy of even a burial or a marker or recognition that they had ever lived, or died, at all.


When the Reverend William Richardson, of St. George’s Episcopal Church, held a small prayer service for the dead, about 80 people attended; but many more complained about Richardson to Iveson Noland, the Episcopalian bishop of New Orleans, who rebuked Richardson for his kindness.

Until Pulse nightclub, the UpStairs Lounge arson was the largest massacre of LGBTQ people ever in this country and yet it wasn’t even considered newsworthy; after all, it was just queers who died, so who really cared? And the few news organizations that covered the fire barely mentioned that those who died were gay, and this being in the decades and decades before Hate Crimes, it was never treated as such. A local radio DJ, when asked where they would bury the dead suggested “fruit” jars to his listeners.

And while other, smaller disasters resulted in City Hall press conferences or statements of condolence from the governor, not one civil authority spoke out about the fire or those murdered. In addition, the New Orleans police department wasn’t so interested about investigating the fire, of finding the culprit, or culprits. Detectives wouldn’t even acknowledge that it was an arson case, saying the cause of the fire was of “undetermined origin.”

No one was ever charged with the UpStairs Lounge fire, and the murders, though a local man with known mental problems, Rogder Dale Nunez, claimed responsibility multiple times. Nunez, a sometime visitor to the UpStairs Lounge, committed suicide in 1974.

Times have changed since 1973, but not by much … I'd never heard this story and now like Pulse, and others, I will never forget.

Monday, June 17, 2019

Stories of Pride: James Bryson Died Last Week

James Bryson, an eighty-four-year-old businessman died of Alzheimer’s disease last week.

Who?

Bryson was an insurance company owner in Jenkintown, Pennsylvania; his firm capitalized on a marketplace niche by insuring risks that were declined by other insurance carriers. And in doing so, James Bryson became an advocate for LGBTQ rights and a philanthropist who helped LGBTQ youth in the Philadelphia area.

That’s who.

James Bryson gave money to groups such as the Human Rights Campaign, creating a workplace initiative to focus on equality for LGBTQ employees at major companies. He created, and funded, the Bryson Institute for Sexual and Gender Diversity Education at the Attic Youth Center in Philadelphia, established in 1993 as a welcoming place for LGBTQ youth.

James Bryson used his institute to provide education and training about the issues facing LGBTQ youth in local schools, social service agencies, and religious organizations. He was committed to advancing public policy for LGBTQ people, and spent time educating and lobbying lawmakers at the state and federal level.

James Bryson did all of this despite living the first half of his life as a closeted gay man, his family said:
“Jim was very much in the closet in the first half of his life, and he knew how hard that was for other young people struggling to be themselves in unaccepting environments. So, he was very focused on helping other LGBTQ young people avoid the kind of [censure] he felt growing up.”
Another event that shook James Bryson to his core, and spurred on his generosity and philanthropy, was the 1998 murder of Matthew Shepard; his daughter, Elizabeth Beers says:
“He said, ‘This should never happen to another human being.' He said, ‘What can we do to support young people growing up?’ That’s how the Bryson Institute came to be."
In addition to LGBTQ causes, Bryson gave to Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pennsylvania and the Support Center for Child Advocates in Philadelphia. He was married to Elizabeth Marvin for sixteen years, and fathered two daughters, before divorcing in 1982 when he came out as gay.

He was a convener of the Philadelphia OutGivers and helped to establish the Human Rights Campaign [HRC] Philadelphia Steering and Political Committees and the HRC National Business Council. He was also a founding member of ActionAIDS and the Delaware Valley Legacy Fund, which supports the needs of the LGBTQ community.

In addition to his daughter. Elizabeth Beers, and his former wife, Elizabeth Cecil, he is also survived by daughter Jennifer Alderman and four grandchildren.

And he is survived by every single one of us. He may have taken a while to come to understand and accept his sexual orientation, but when he came out, he came all the way out, and helped make the way safer, and easier, for those who came after him.

Thank you, James.