Within the next (likely even more progressive) five years, who knows how many will feel the need to carry on as true blue gay bars? Recently, Hybrid Lounge dropped its gay bar classification and, instead, considers itself to be an LGBT-friendly bar-a.k.a. As recently as 15 years ago, Milwaukee boasted close to 20 gay bars, which is an especially impressive sum for a city of its size. Now, as the world’s collective acceptance and understanding grows, the number of and need for gay bars are starting to shrink. These watering holes existed as one of the few public places in an otherwise harsh world where gay and straight people alike could, simply stated, be themselves. Customers could feel at ease when mingling with any patron with little fear of violence, humiliation, judgement, or reproach. Gay bars are in trouble.įor decades in the U.S., and for more than 45 years in Milwaukee, gay bars have existed as a (relative) safe haven from a largely intolerant society. However, if there’s one unfortunate byproduct of the exponential progress made in LGBT rights in this country lately, it’s that the overwhelming support of modern society could serve to threaten the sheer existence of one very specific type of business. It took far too long and required incalculable amounts of pain, hardship, and opposition to get here (and there’s still so much work to be done), but now people of any sexuality can get married, visit partners in the hospital, and even become scout leaders. Vice.By all accounts, it’s a great time to be gay in America. onMilwaukee.ĥ LGBTQ Protests That Set the Stage for Stonewall. VoiceNews.īefore Stonewall, the Black Nite brawl stunned Milwaukee. Queer history was made at Cooper’s Donuts in Los Angeles. Sources:īefore Stonewall, the Queer Revolution Started Right Here in Los Angeles. The crowd then went to the police station and camped in the waiting room, remaining until bail was posted for the arrested men.Įxplore more of the history of the LGBTQ movement in America here. He led a crowd to buy massive quantities of flowers from a nearby shop owned by one of the bar’s customers. In the end, police arrested two bar patrons for lewd conduct, enraging Glaze who knew the men were innocent. They fanned out and began to screen the crowd, looking for IDs that didn’t “match” the holder’s outward appearance. On August 17, 1968, undercover cops left the bar and returned with several uniformed officers for backup, though it’s unclear what prompted this action.
Glaze had a secret signal-he’d play “God Save the Queen” on the jukebox-to announce that police officers were entering the bar, allowing patrons time to comply with the discriminatory laws.
The Patch was an LGBTQ bar in Wilmington owned and managed by Lee Glaze. One day in 1966, an officer placed his hand on a trans woman at Compton’s-she responded by throwing her cup of coffee in his face. Nestled in the San Francisco Tenderloin neighborhood, Compton’s Cafeteria was a 24-hour restaurant and refuge for sex-working trans women, who often faced intense violence from clients and police. 1966: San Francisco – Compton’s Cafeteria Riot This led to the quick reversal of the state’s anti-gay liquor laws. The group was finally denied service at the Greenwich Village tavern Julius, which had been raided by police a few days earlier for serving gay people.
At the time, LGBTQ+ individuals couldn’t be served alcohol in public because liquor laws considered their gathering to be “disorderly.” In spring 1966, members of the early gay rights organization Mattachine Society staged a “ sip-in”-a twist on “sit-in” protest-in which they visited taverns, declared themselves gay, and waited to be turned away so they could sue.
After pouring their drinks, a bartender in Julius's Bar refuses to serve John Timmins, Dick Leitsch, Craig Rodwell, and Randy Wicker, members of the Mattachine Society who were protesting New York liquor laws that prevented serving gay customers, 1966.