Crescent City Coalition / Police Round Ups

The men were taken to central lockup, booked with their “crime”, and their names and addresses were reported to the press. In those days, there was so much prejudice against the gay community that one could lose one’s job or apartment if it became public that you were gay. So, if you were arrested outside a gay bar, even if the charges were later dropped, it could result in dire consequences because your name was printed in the newspaper.

This raid on Jewel’s, and the wholesale phony arrests of everyone outside the bar, were just about the last straw in a period of increasing hostility by the NOPD. John Ognibene, well known as a gay activist in Act Up, had the poster printed and distributed in the French Quarter. Although most of the gay community was closeted at the time, people were so angry that the meeting drew several hundred people to the St. Louis Community Center. It was the largest gay meeting I had ever seen up to that time. The loose organization that formed that night was called the Crescent City Coalition. I do not think the organization lasted more than a year or two.

As a result of that meeting, John and I and a few others had a meeting with Mayor Dutch Morial in his office. We wanted him to intervene with NOPD to stop the assault on the gay community. As the first Black Mayor of New Orleans, he was sympathetic to the ignorance and prejudice we were facing. But I still remember two things he said: 1) The NOPD is a paramilitary group, and there were cops that hated him. If he told them to stop the raids, they would probably increase them! 2) Since our civil rights were being violated, we should sue the city for damages, although he also said he would deny he ever told us to do that. And if we were not brave enough to file suit, then shame on us! His exact words.

However, a positive result of that meeting was the Mayor’s agreement to institute “sensitivity training” at the police academy. New recruits, as well as current officers, were obliged to attend several of these classes as part of their ongoing education. As a gay man, I taught a number of classes over a two year period. There were also classes taught by representatives of the Black community; the Asian community; and even a socially prominent Garden District man. If I remember correctly, sometimes P-FLAG would send someone to conduct one of these classes. I do remember that in a few classes, there were some cops who could hardly contain their anger that they had to sit in class and listen this faggot talk to them about the gay community, and how we only wanted the same respect that any citizen deserved. I had police officers in my own family in New Jersey, so that did give me common ground to establish some rapport with most of those in the class.

The St. Louis Community Center in those days was open to any groups that needed meeting space. Among the gay groups that met there for several years were Dignity, Gay Alcoholics Anonymous, Grace Church, Crescent City Coalition, and one or two other groups I cannot remember. It was the closest thing we had to a Gay Community Center. But as the Catholic Church became more conservative under Pope John Paul II, all gay groups were told to leave the center.

Stewart Butler

I think I met Stewart at those early P-Flag meetings, but I cannot be sure. It seems that Stewart was just omnipresent in those days, as he was for the next thirty years. He was also the guiding force behind the political group LAGPAC, which I supported, but in which I was not active. I was always peripheral to Stewart’s life, and the last meetings we had together were for the Archives Project. My memory of Alfred: a tall, heavily medicated man with severe mental disability. We never had a conversation.

PFLAG

Sandra Paillet was PFLAG president, and I suggested that we should start a scholarship fund to support graduating gay high school students as they began college. There was some hesitation concerning legal matters, so I wrote the first check to P-FLAG Scholarship Fund, for $1,000, and gave it to Sandra. That made the concept real to her, and soon the paperwork had been done, so fundraisers could be held. Needing a location that was free, we decided to use the site at American Aquatic Gardens for annual champagne receptions/ fundraisers.

The first five years, all annual fundraisers and awards were held at the Aquatic Gardens. The event grew constantly, and because we had minimum outdoor shelter, I always worried that we would be rained out, and the event would be cancelled. That never happened, but after five years, I told Sandra she had to find a larger, indoor venue.

I seldom attended P-FLAG meetings, and my only contribution was Aquatic Garden’s annual donation of $2,000 scholarships. Quite a few politicians and non-profits began to donate scholarships as well, and the fund became really well established fairly quickly.

Dignity

The group met weekly at the community center, and also held a mass conducted by Fr. Tom Ellerman. Small group, usually not more than a dozen people. I recall that Nathan Chapman was a frequent visitor to the meetings.

When Lafitte’s in Exile was being flagrant about barring women and blacks from entry, Dignity took out a full-page ad in Impact, the local gay paper, pointing out the hypocrisy of demanding civil rights for gays, while denying them to other minorities. Lafitte’s responded with a cartoon cowboy ad in the next issue, saying that some people want all bars to be the same.

When Dignity National held its convention in Seattle, we were invited by Archbishop Hunthausen to attend mass at his cathedral, over which he would preside. The huge church was filled to capacity, and over forty priests concelebrated the mass. It was an extraordinary liturgy, with symphony musicians and gay men’s choral groups in the choir loft. But Hunthausen was not there. His invitation to Dignity had sparked a furious reaction among conservatives, and Hunthausen was called to Rome, so he could not officiate at the service. He was demoted by Rome and an “adjuvant” was appointed to keep him in line. I wrote a letter of appreciation to him for his bravery, which he kindly answered. I recently turned that letter over to Mark Gonzalez, who now has all my other historical papers from that era.

Mark Gonzalez

Mark and I have worked on a number of demonstrations together, and he is a good source for information. Mark and I actually had to campaign against Mike Early a second time, a few years ago, when Early was running for city council again. The gay bars had banners on their balconies, supporting Early for city council, unaware of his unapologetic betrayal some twenty years ago. Mark and I were having fits! (This shows you how quickly a community can lose its historic memory!) By then, Early was also a convicted felon, and we pointed that out on the flyers which we posted all over the French Quarter and Marigny. The flyers had our names on them, if anyone wanted more information from us. Probably a first for a political flyer. Early lost by a slim margin, and I like to think we made that happen. Interestingly, Mike Early is a neighbor, and lives one block from me and Kevin now.

Act Up

I became involved in some demonstrations with Act Up through John Ognibene. He and I met when we both joined the new choir at St. Vincent de Paul’s Church on Dauphine, now called Blessed Selos Church. The progressive pastor at the time, Fr. Tom Palko, welcomed all to his church. That choir would have been great material for a TV comedy. Seven gay guys, eight black women, all amateurs, who sometimes produced astounding song that stunned the congregation into prolonged silence.

One of Act Up’s demonstrations I recall, and there is video of this on Just for the Record, by Loretta Mims, was a demonstration at the Orpheum Theater, when Princess Radizwell was an honoree. We dressed as jesters, handed out roses and flyers to the arriving crowds, and told them the city was joking around with AIDS. At that time, there was zero support of any kind from city government for PWAs. I remember that Sidney Bartholomy was mayor, and he was embarrassed when Radizwell told the audience from the stage that she was shocked at the city’s dereliction.

There was also Act Up’s sit-in on Loyola Avenue to protest state plans to defund the pharmacy fund for PWAs. I remember that Stewart and Councilman Johnny Jackson were arrested for failing to move. We successfully made the point that day: instead of sitting down on Loyola Avenue on a Thursday, we could also plan to sit down on the Mississippi River bridge on a Friday. The pharmacy continued to be funded.

John Ognibene also started the Crescent City Coaliton; he called the first meeting after the police had arrested everyone standing on the sidewalk outside Jewel’s, a gay bar on Decatur. Hundreds showed up at St. Louis Community Center for the first meeting, it made the news, and it led to our meeting with Mayor Dutch Morial to vent our anger. He was sympathetic, and I remember so clearly his saying that he did not have control over the police, and if he ordered them to stop harassing the gays, some of them would do it even more. And then he said that if we had balls, we would sue the city! And if we were afraid to do that, shame on us. He finished by telling us he would deny he ever said we should sue the city. You knew exactly where you stood with Dutch! Eventually, he facilitated sensitivity training classes for the NOPD. I lectured for several years at the police academy, and so did volunteers from P-FLAG.

John Ognibene died of AIDS. I gave the eulogy at his funeral, in that same church where we had first met in the choir.