By Nora Gordon
The “Furtive Fraternity”, written by Gaeton Fonzi during the winter of 1962 in Philadelphia Magazine, was the first instance of the term “gay” used in reference to the local populace. It had not been the first recognition of homosexuality, but it did mark the changing of the times as homosexuality began to bleed into the mainstream consciousness. In his reporting on the “Furtive Fraternity”, he outlined various other social environments of like-minded individuals. His report touched upon the constant battles homosexuals faced whether at home or in the streets. The growing visibility brought with it a whole new challenge. Suddenly, the battle for freedom took on a public dimension as different organizations attempting to advance the movement facing opposition from conservatives, police, press, military, and the federal government all attempting to battle what they perceived to be the homosexual sickness.
A Red Scare is a moral panic in response to fear of left-wing ideologies either real or imagined that lead to political persecution, scapegoating and outing of those in government or public life connected in any way to left-wing groups. The first American red scare was 1919 to 1920 which led to mass illegal search and seizure, arrests and deportations in response to the Russian 1917 October Russian revolution, German revolutions in 1919 and the growing labor union activity.
The second red scare occurred between 1947 and 1957 as President Harry Truman signed an executive order in 1947 to screen federal employees for connections to left leaning or subversive organization. The relations between Russia and the United States deteriorating in the then divided east/west Germany as well as the Soviet Union testing nukes, Czechoslovakia enduring a communist coup, and a high-level state official was convicted of perjury in an espionage case.
The lavender scare was born from the second red scare as McCarthyites doubted the patriotism of homosexuals, questioning the ease with which they could be blackmailed and bribed. This entire line of thinking, of course, is skewed as queer people would not be affected by blackmail any more than a straight person. The Lavender Scare, however, spread as thousands of people in the queer community lost their jobs with the federal government. Exasperating this in 1953, Eisenhower signed Executive Order 10450, which set stricter security standards for federal employment. The order encouraged intolerance from the top-down by the federal government, driving a hateful stigma.
The general stigma directed at the queer community, while always present in America, was breaking out into public discourse. One such example of this is film decrying homosexuality produced as public service announcement called “Boys Beware.” The film highlighted predatory behavior and statutory rape as normal for homosexual men. This film was shown in American schools between 1951 and 1973, when it was remade in color. It illustrated what most Americans viewed as common behavior for homosexual men. The normalization of equating homosexuality to pedophilia was viewed with the same cold, mechanical factuality as the dangers of teen pregnancy or illicit drug usage. The powers of the authorities were turned against homosexuality in fear, panic, and hatred.
There were, however, some places in Philadelphia where a queer person could relax and feel safe if only for a small time. One such place was a budding safe space known colloquially as the “Gayborhood”. The term “Gayborhood” was coined during the 1970s due to its significance as a post-war hot spot for the LGBT community in Philadelphia. The Queer (used here as an umbrella term for all LGBTQA) Community would flock to this haven at night. In truth, the so-called Gayborhood was little more than a “city of apartments” near Locust and Thirteenth Streets. The casual nature of the arrangement led to a balancing act that as one bar patron put it, “[I am] straight from 9-to-5, and gay as hell on the weekends.” Regardless of the ephemeral nature of the escape from oppression offered by the Gayborhood, this area of the city would grow to be a queer mecha as Washington DC and New York were.
Marc Stein, in his book City of Sisterly and Brotherly Love, states that four developments of the 1940s-50s were responsible for police brutality against homosexuals in Philadelphia as well as the coded reporting of it. He believed the framing of it was best framed in a Hegelian dialectic of the master/slave dichotomy highlighting the tension at the heart of these feuding interests. He pits the establishment against the antiestablishment, the old against the young, the police against the intellectual, and champions of “law and order” against champions of legitimate civil liberties. Fundamentally, the most evolved of these factional pairings was the old against the young as seen the rise of the Beat Generation.
The Beat Generation was a movement and group of youths creating and publishing subversive literary works that contrasted with Cold War Era ideology of the perceived “perfect American.” At the same time, government officials were concerned with the statistic that “youths under 18 account[ed] for nearly 1/4th of 1958 city arrests for major crimes.” This led to a panic -over a perceived unruly and unlawful generation. The fight to preserve and maintain the Cold War Era ideology meant the rejection of all queerness in the belief that this contributed to the threat posed by this generation.
This generational change threatened core American values of what sexuality in a conservative home meant. Traditional conservative families saw homosexuality as not only an aberration, but a degradation of morality that threatened the fabric of society. Thus, the conservative-shamed what he believed to be immoral behavior, and community policing was required to maintain the health of the community. Police, governmental, and the media attacks on queerness were necessary for the safety and integrity of the neighborhood. This conflagration of policing sexuality and public health is one that overtook law enforcement in precincts all over America.
Frank Donner, Director of the American Civil Liberties Union, once stated, “While practices associated with the term police state abound in the United States, beginning in the sixties, police state modes of governing emerged in ominous perspective in urban America, among such subsequently disclosed police state patterns Philadelphia’s is outstanding.” This statement makes no hints of being directed at anyone other than Frank Rizzo and his cohorts. Rizzo’s term of police and city governance ran from 1952 to 1980 in one form or another. During this time, he would come to define what many in Philadelphia would come to think of when they imagined law enforcement.
Frank Rizzo came into the world to staunch Roman Catholic Italian parents on October 23, 1920, in South Philadelphia. He quit school and joined the navy in 1938. At age 22, he enlisted in the police force in 1943. In 1952, Officer Rizzo was named Acting Captain, and after 7 years of harsh but “effective” policing, was made commissioner in 1966. His attempts to crack down on crime amounted to harassing the African American and Queer Communities. Rizzo, during his time as police chief, commissioner, and mayor, had one objective in mind: “cleaning up the streets.” To him, this meant doing whatever means necessary to change the culture of the area by enforcing ruthless harassment of even minor offenses with the hopes of improving the community. This meant putting drug dealers, prostitutes, and homosexuals behind bars, or at least that meant giving them a stern, corrective beating. However, his tactics did not stop there. His “guidance” even oversaw the enforcing city bans of same-sex dancing, sodomy, makeup ownership by men, or even perceived intent of sodomy. His most bold stance was to state that any bars that served “female impersonators” would lose their liquor license. To enforce these laws, he would conduct raids of bars, social clubs, private clubs, and even homes where he suspected the existence of homosexuality.
Frank Rizzo’s hatred for the queer community led to raids on every area of the city associated with gays. The raiding increased in intensity to coffee houses, clubs, and a different bar in the gayborhood every Saturday night. His constant harassment of much maligned minorities coupled with the general anxieties of the Cold War Era desire to reimpose conservative traditions by any means necessarily led to Rizzo being painted as a hero cleaning up the streets. The Queer Community faced such constant harassment that it led Liz Spikol.
Frank Rizzo’s controversial legacy of repression and punishment seem inexplicable. His legacy is one that has pondered several historians. Marc Stein asserts one such theory for Frank Rizzo’s behavior. Marc Stein asserts that Frank Rizzo’s crusade of hatred began for the homosexual community during his 18-month stint in the Navy. This theory focuses on how sailors would take home “female impersonators,” and upon learning of their gender, beat them up before leaving them to die. Hence, Stein believes that Rizzo may have been misled about the apparent gender of a potential sexual partner. This has not been substantiated, but its t holds explanatory power in understanding the environment that informed Rizzo’s experiences with homosexuality. Moreover, the tale highlights aspects of a culture that was at the height of attempting to redefine the cultural norms key to the changing American values at the core of the generational change.
The Philadelphia legal system stood to profit from oppressing queer communities like the Gayborhood. They would raid bars, grab anything that could even remotely be conceived of evidence, and throw suspects into police cars before immediately dropping them off at the jail. Always the charged crime was not described, and the victim had no idea why they were in jail aside from being gay in public. Often, the charge was later described as “intention to sodomize”, but pretty much anything else they could think of to be somehow possible was charged. The sheer regularity of it made it an almost predictable way of life for the patrons of the Gayborhood.
Once they reached the time limit on being held without charge, they would be charged, brought to court, given a fine, and then dismissed. Naturally, this led to the rise of an entire class of attorneys that specialized on these cases. It was a cottage industry of homosexual crimes that amounted to legal extortion. They would exploit the circumstances for the protection of queer victims, and they would charge their clients outlandish rates under the promise to reach the smallest possible sentence. Once before the judge, the attorney would settle outside of court, get the victim about $1,000 dollar fine, and then charge them anywhere from $1,000 to $5,000 dollars. This practice was in place from early 1950 until nearly 1993. Often, the police officer that placed the arrest somehow had the same last name as the attorney. The nepotism and self-serving system became commonplace, but they did not go unchallenged by queer organizations that attempted to fight back such as the Mattachine Society.
The Mattachine Society existed at the forefront of organizations for the progression and protection of queer rights and safe spaces. It was a group of gay men that promoted education and civil rights for queers dating all the way back to 1950. Their various spokespeople appeared on several news stations, generated numerous publications, and established chapters. Originally, it started in Los Angeles, but it quickly spread to every major American city starting in 1961. The Washington D.C. chapter of the Mattachine Society on April 17th, 1965, launched the first annual protests pertaining to the queer community from 1965 to 1970. Sadly, the attendance at the events never climbed above more than 167 people. Even many of these were people that the Mattachine Society bussed in from larger more active cities like New York. Fortunately, the Mattachine Society were far from alone and were joined by the likes of their lesbian counterparts in the Daughters of Bilitis.
The Daughters of Bilitis formed in 1955 was the very first Lesbian exclusive rights organization. It was created initially as a safe space reacting to harassment and police raids that afflicting lesbian bars in San Francisco. The Daughters of Bilitis repeatedly attempted to set up a chapter in Philadelphia, however, were unable due to participant turn out within the city. The impact and effect of the Rizzo Administration had effectively silenced and smothered open expression and identification of their sexual and gender identity. The fear of being beaten, jailed, shunned, ostracized, and shamed proved too dangerous for many in Philadelphia. It took a broader effort to overcome this roadblock.
After both the Mattachine Society and the Daughters of Bilitis failed to establish chapters in Philadelphia, an associated organization was created from both parties. The Janus Society of Delaware County was the first established queer organization in Philadelphia to take roots. It was one of the first Lesbian and Gay homophile organizations in the country let alone Philadelphia. It was noted for its quasi-militant, radical, and sexually liberated stances and belief in radical self-acceptance. Most importantly, it led first queer sit-in to achieve its intended goal of integration and reversal of persecution. It was headed by Mae Polakoff as President and Mark Kendall as Vice President. Another pivotal figure for the organization was Clark Polak, who oversaw much of its operations as well as prominent sit-ins.
Clark Polak was a Jewish Philadelphian gay rights activist active from 1937 to 1980 and was known for his publication of the most circulated gay magazine throughout the 1960s: DRUM. The DRUM combined erotica and queer news, eventually gaining national news when the grand jury indicted Polak for publishing erotic and obscene material to which Polak pleaded guilty. What is most interesting however is that the grand jury instead of fining or jailing Polak gave him an option to simply relocate to California and all charges would be dropped. What is important about this case is that it certainly is not the first and last of the relocation of queer people to California through the legal system.
Sit-ins became incredibly popular for the movement as it allowed them to position themselves in a way that would expand their mission without the fear of rioting and police action that strained earlier attempts at organization. The first ever sit in for LGBTQ issues occurred on April 25, 1965, at Dewey’s Restaurant near Rittenhouse Square in Center City. The stated reason for the sit in at Dewey’s was because “the action was a result of Dewey’s refusal to serve many homosexuals and persons wearing nonconformist clothing.” Once Clark Polak heard this, he rushed to the scene to ensure legal protection, and he was promptly arrested. The Janus Society of Delaware valley sprung to action distributing literature and making statements to news stations about the incident. By May 5th, three teenagers attempted a second sit in which the police did not intervene. The Janus Society declared victory and Dewey’s began to serve homosexuals thereafter.
Two months later, the Janus Society staged the first homophile parade on July 4th, 1965. On that day, a joint effort from the Mattachine Society, Daughters of Bilitis, and Janus Society picketed City Hall from 3 p.m. to 5 p.m., holding up signs, and distributing pamphlets pertaining to the issues faced by the American Homophile. Due to lack of participation and coverage from media, the pickets served as little more than a footnote in the grand order of the movement. The refusal of the press to address many of the grievances of the movement stifled representation and silenced its advocates. It stood at the heart of an overwhelming issue that laid at the head of suppression of the movement at the time: the Rizzo Administration.
Police intimidation stifled groups such as the Mattachine Society, Daughters of Bilitis, and Janus Society. Rizzo’s semi-legal police raids made meetings from incredibly difficult to nigh impossible. Any attempts at civil conduct or action were frequently met with police action. Crippling fear of the overriding and ubiquitous police presence near guaranteed that the official membership of the Janus Society never reached more than 110 within Philadelphia. Considering that the Janus Society consisted of members from both Mattachine Society and the Daughters of Bilitis, two of the most significant queer identifying organizations at the time, it was a crushing sign of exactly how far the road to acceptance was for their community.
Many began to lose hope as the campaign to improve relations with the broader community appeared to end in defeat by the system as Philadelphia’s gay community fled for their very safety. Their hope for acceptance had appeared crumbled and then stamped out by law enforcement as they fled into their local bars. The very walls of the local bars in the Gayborhood such as Bike Stop and Maxine’s will cry out if they dare speak of the pain endured by its regulars. If they could speak, they might even whisper of a new place, a safe place in a far-off land that was known to many as a gay Mecca: California. The prospect of pervasive hostility from the very communities that they hoped would embrace them drove many to flee to comparatively liberal California.
California as early as the 1800s was more sexually liberated than the east coast on a whole. Travelers, gold minors, sailors, and other transients could leave their prevailing rules from back home to forge a new lifestyle for themselves. It was here that the Mattachine Society and Daughters of Bilitis had had their start, and it was here that first rumblings of the riots at the Stonewall Inn 1969 created an uproar. In 1961, José Julio Sarria was the first openly gay and drag queen candid to run for public office in America. It can be said without concern for accuracy that California was a more accepting state of the queer community than Philadelphia.
The “blue discharge” was a practice started in 1916 by the United States Navy as a less than honorable discharge for anything related or even possibly related to homosexual activity that continued up until the late 1980s. Once enlisted Navy Men got onto the boats on any of the major harbors, the last stop before going into active combat zones was the Barbary Coast in California. The discharge was a formal navy blank ticket out, often used in truth by officers to rid the ship of homosexuals and African Americans. Because of the nature of the paperwork, it is difficult to say exactly how many queer people got relocated to California this way, but it is estimated around that at least a few thousand would be subjected to this every five years and spikes during draft years.
On May 19th, 1941, the American government and psychiatrists worked with military leaders to create guidelines for recruiters to identify and dismiss homosexual men from the armed forces. These guidelines directly from the United States Government identified males with a “degenerate physique…[that] may present the general body conformation of the opposite sex, with sloping narrow shoulders, broad hips, excessive pectoral and public adipose deposits, and lack of masculine hirsute and muscular markings.” These screenings were technically still in practice by the recruiters, but the pragmatic reality prevented implementation. When a person was suspected of homosexuality, the case went to a board to be reviewed by military psychiatrist, which took months. Typically, the effect of this was the blue discharge. Thus, the official guidelines from the Federal Government of the United States led to the induction and quick discharge of homosexual Americans in the first port on the Barbary Coast. Indirectly, the United States helped craft the strongest bulwark of the queer community in California.
Eureka Valley, California was originally a white, working class, and Irish community. After the war, it fell victim to white flight from city to suburbs as the city became overcrowded. Thus, the “others” of the area came into, what was then, cheap housing. African Americans, Latinos, and especially members of the queer community were displaced by the war. They helped turn the once conservative town into what would be called Castro Street. Castro Street became a glowing beacon of acceptance, hope, and love for the queer community as they created the Tavern Guild in 1962. The Tavern Guild was a community of bar owners which became the first overtly queer business association able to hold its own against the liquor board and the police. It became an example to queer folk everywhere, but especially in Philadelphia.
The intertwined relationship between Philadelphia and California’s homosexual communities were just a taste of the long standing and firm relationships that would come to define the movement over the years. To this day, one need not look any further than Thomas Paine Plaza to see monuments celebrating Frank Rizzo’s reign of terror over minority groups in Philadelphia. The strength and resilience of the homosexual community to withstand pressure, fear, shame, and loss of freedom indicates their united brother and sisterhood to band together and refuse to be silenced. With the Red Scare, Lavender Scare, and Cold War long since passed, the future seems bright and colorful for the queer population in Philadelphia as the rainbow flag itself.
In the year 2025 the same tactics that were used during the red scares and during the Nazi take over in Germany emerge. Targeting gay and trans people even though they represent one percent of the population of America and yet are responsible.
The Philadelphia Partisan 