LGBT History Month 2026: Robert Oelbermann and Rudi Pallas

Both Robert Oelbermann and Rudi Pallas were prominent figures in the German youth movement who became victims of Nazi persecution due to their homosexuality.

Robert Oelbermann in 1936 shorty before his arrest.
Coll. Archive of the German Youth Movement, Witzenhausen, P1 No.914

Robert Oelbermann was born in 1896 in Bonn, Germany. In 1921, he and his twin brother Karl founded the Nerother Bund youth group in the Cologne region. Such youth groups were quite common at the time and focused on hiking, camping, singing folk songs (using the Zupfgeigenhansl songbook), and experiencing nature. Gay relationships sometimes developed from the intense adolescent male camaraderie, and the Nerother Bund accepted these friendships, espousing a type of "pedagogical eros."

During the Nazi persecution of homosexuals, many Hitler Youth leaders who had previously been members of the Nerother Bund youth group were arrested beginning in late 1935. Robert Oelbermann was taken into custody on February 14, 1936. In a letter written afterward, he openly defended homosexuality, calling it "the sole foundation of the state." He argued that it was an undeniable fact that all true leaders possessed same-sex inclinations and that all genuinely great achievements arose from this impulse. For these reasons, he concluded, portraying same-sex love as abnormal, pathological, or criminal was a profound injustice—damaging both to individuals and to the state itself.

In July 1936, Oelbermann was sentenced to 21 months in prison under Paragraph 175 (the German law criminalizing homosexual acts), just one of more than 50,000 men persecuted for being gay during the Nazi regime. After serving his sentence, he was taken into "protective custody" and deported to the Sachsenhausen concentration camp. There, he became an important figure, especially for prisoners marked with the pink triangle. Within the camp, he was soon known as the "leader of the 175s," as camp elder Harry Naujoks later recalled in his memoirs. As the unofficial block elder of Block 14—where many homosexual prisoners were concentrated—he was able to do much to encourage solidarity and mutual support among the pink triangle inmates. It was here that he met Rudi Pallas, a former scout leader (he formed the South Legion Youth League), physician at the Berlin University Hospital and fellow gay prisoner.

Rudi Pallas, from the album of his friend Fritz Nickel, ca 1930-31
Coll. Archive of the German Youth Movement, Witzenhausen N125 No.9

Oelbermann and Pallas together organized clandestine resistance activities among homosexual and political prisoners, doing a a great deal to foster solidarity among the gay prisoners. Lectures, musical evenings, and cabaret performances were held in Block 14. The SS eventually even imposed a ban on visits to this block, probably because they feared it could "become a central point of the camp," as the prisoner Albert Christel later reported.

Block 14 was dissolved in the spring of 1940, and most of the homosexual prisoners were transferred to other concentration camps. Oelbermann himself was transported to Dachau in August. Seven months later, on March 29, 1941, forty-four year old Robert Oelbermann died there, according to the official report, from "cardiovascular failure due to asthma and edema."

However, Pallas was released in May 1940 and sent to the Eastern Front before being taken prisoner by the Russians. He was one of the few homosexual deportees to be recognized as a "victim of war" for his anti-fascist activism. In 1952, while under investigation once again by the West German police for homosexuality, he committed suicide.

Some information above culled from The Pink Triangle, a German-language site:
http://www.rosa-winkel.de/bio-oelbermann.htm
and
The French-language Shoah Memorial site:
https://expo-homosexuels-lesbiennes.memorialdelashoah.org/robert-oelbermann-1896-1941-et-rudi-pallas-1907-1952.html

LGBT History Month 2026: Alojzy Pawłowski's Five Lost Years in Concentration Camps

Arrested and locked up in various concentration camps, Alojzy Pawłowski was forced to spend a total of five years of his life in prison simply because he was gay.

When we look back in time for this LGBT History Month, it is easy for the sheer scale of persecution to reduce its victims to numbers. But behind those numbers were individual lives—gay men and women with families, friendships, hopes, careers, loves, and stories of their own. So many of those stories were never recorded, were deliberately and maliciously erased, or disappeared with the people who lived them. Remembering people like Alojzy Pawłowski allows us to restore, from our own moment in history, some measure of the individuality and humanity that was so savagely denied to them in their lifetimes.

From Arolsen Archives at the International Center on Nazi Persecution:

Alojzy Pawłowski was born in Soły (Ashmyany district/Vilnius Voivodeship) in 1918.He was a Polish national, a Catholic, and a nurse by profession. At 22 years of age, he was sentenced to two years in prison for fornication with men, similar to his partner Jan Ratajczak.

It is written in the ruling: “Defendant 1 [Pawłowski] was employed as an auxiliary nurse from August 30, 1939, until May 28, 1940, […] at the city hospital in Poznań. In May 1940, he met defendant 2 [Ratjczak] at the hospital, who had been admitted there at the end of April with a foot injury. Without first alluding to his intentions in conversation, he lay down in bed with defendant 2 one night around the middle of May. He gripped defendant 2’s genitals, held his own against them, and played until […] he became stiff and ejaculation took place.”

Special Court I of Poznań declared: “The term fornication in Paragraph 175 of the German Criminal Code (StGB) comprises not only coitus-like acts between men, but also any abuse of the body of another person of the same sex for sensual pleasure. As expressly determined by the law, the man who allows himself to be abused by another man for fornication is equal to the man who commits fornication with him. These elements of the crime are present in all three cases.”

Alojzy was also convicted based on Paragraph 174/3 and was considered the seducer: “It was to be taken into account during sentencing that the defendant [Pawłowski] acted as the seducer, and has a proclivity towards perverted fornication. He was therefore not allowed any mitigating circumstances. […] However, it was to be taken into account for the defendant [Ratajczak] that he was seduced into performing the act by the defendant [Pawłowski].”

He served his sentence in Poznań prison and, from August 9, 1940, in Rawicz penitentiary. He was moved to Rawicz prison camp in 1942. He was due to be released in June 1943, but the Gestapo took over.

In August 1942, Alojzy wrote a letter to his aunt, Maria Jankowska. He was curious as to whether his family was in good health. In this text, the censor at Rawicz underlined just a couple of sentences: “[Aunt], you have told me that you have spoken to Edward and that he recently got married. Thank you very much for the greetings, and I ask that you send a short note from me.” That was the last letter between Alojzy and his family. It is not known who Edward was, but Alojzy was once again punished due to this fragment of text.

In August 1943, the Gestapo transported him to Auschwitz concentration camp where he was assigned prisoner number 136627. One year later, he was taken to Ravensbrück concentration camp – then to Mittelbau-Dora concentration camp and Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, where he was freed.

Alojzy Pawłowski returned to Poland after the war and lived in Ustka. He wrote two letters to the Arolsen Archives, one in 1973 and another in 1984. He needed some kind of evidence that he had been a concentration camp prisoner in order to receive a pension.

A guest article by Joanna Ostrowska. The biography of Alojzy comes from her book “Oni. Homoseksualiści w czasie II wojny światowej” (Warsaw 2021).

https://arolsen-archives.org/en/news/five-lost-years-alojzy-pawlowski/

Happy International LGBT History Month 2026!

October is International LGBTQ History Month!

LGBT History Month provides role models, builds community, and represents a civil rights statement about the contributions to the world of the LGBTQ+ community. You'd think we would be in a better place for LGBT rights by 2026 (as well as rights for women and POC, etc. etc....), but here we are with physical attacks on the community increasing at alarming rates, thanks to the current administration of darkness. Roughly 791 anti-LGBTQ bills have been introduced (435 of those bills specifically targeted transgender people), with 50 bills actually being enacted and passed into law in the United States in 2026 — better than last year's total of 109 bills enacted into law out of 1,061 bills introduced according to the LGBTQ+ Legislation Tracking Project. But unfortunately, we still have another 3 months to go to see how much more damage can be done.

The Human Rights Campaign says, "These laws are fueled by an anti-LGBTQ+ Republican establishment — and coordinated, well-funded extremist groups like the Alliance Defending Freedom, Heritage Foundation and the Family Policy Alliance — insistent on trying to control our families and lives." For this reason, it is of grave importance to promote visibility, which engenders understanding and empathy. When people know someone who is LGBTQ, they are far more likely to support equality under the law. But beyond that, our stories can be powerful and empowering to each other, inspiring change.

How It Works
LGBT History Month celebrates the achievements of 31 lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender Icons. Each day in October, a new LGBT Icon is featured with a video, bio, bibliography, downloadable images and other resources. Visit the link at the bottom of this post. There are some wonderful, legendary artists and figures on this year's list.

Background
In 1994, Rodney Wilson, a Missouri high school teacher, believed a month should be dedicated to the celebration and teaching of gay and lesbian history, and gathered other teachers and community leaders. They selected October because public schools are in session and existing traditions, such as Coming Out Day (October 11), occur that month.

Gay and Lesbian History Month was endorsed by GLAAD, the Human Rights Campaign, the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, the National Education Association and other national organizations. In 2006 Equality Forum assumed responsibility for providing content, promotion and resources for LGBT History Month.

Celebrate Our Heritage
The LGBT community is the only community worldwide that is not taught its history at home, in public schools or in religious institutions. LGBT History Month provides role models, builds community and makes the civil rights statement about our extraordinary national and international contributions.

https://www.lgbthistorymonth.com/

Happy Pride Month 2026!

June is LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transexual, Queer/Questioning) Pride Month to commemorate the Stonewall riots, which occurred at the end of June 1969 (look for my annual blog posting about this important date on the 28th).

Why Pride?

Despite the fact that Pete Buttigieg, an out and proud and well adjusted and brilliantly smart gay man ran a highly successful campaign for President of the United States (remember how everyone said that we no longer have any racism in the United States because a black man was President?), we still have a tremendous problem with homophobia here (especially with the new administration of darkness attacking LGBTQ rights) and around the world. Pride Month is a positive stance against the daily shame, social stigma, discrimination, and violence that the LGBT community still faces here in the United States. In fact, a recent report from the policy research Williams Institute at UCLA showed that LGBT+ people in the United States are NINE TIMES MORE LIKELY THAN NON-LGBT+ PEOPLE TO BE THE VICTIMS OF VIOLENT HATE CRIMES. Gay children are routinely kicked out of their homes and disowned by their families, gay kids and teens and young adults are routinely bullied or attacked or beaten and many end up committing suicide because they are told they are sick or going to hell, and many gay men and women are attacked and beaten and murdered--sometimes in their own homes, while political attacks against the LGBTQ community have increased with destructive, radical conservatives insisting that anyone who stands for LGBTQ rights is somehow "grooming children" for sexual exploitation. Yet that pales in comparison to some other unfortunately backward places around the world where gay men and women are routinely tortured and slaughtered--sometimes by government-sanctioned assassins, governments who insist that there is no such thing as homosexuality and that such ideas are evil imports from the Western world (Ghana imposes actual JAIL SENTENCES for anyone just identifying as LGBTQ).

The LGBTQ Pride celebration is about the right of lesbians, gay men, bisexuals, and transgendered individuals to exist without being prosecuted, persecuted, tortured, or murdered, not about "not being straight."

The rainbow flag is a universal symbol of hope for LGBTQ people around the world. It first flew in San Francisco's United Nations Plaza for Gay Pride Day, on June 25, 1978. It originally had eight colors--two more than today's version--and was designed by Gilbert Baker, an openly gay artist and activist who sewed the whopping 30' x 60' flag by hand. He had been commissioned to design a symbol for the LGBTQ community by his friend Harvey Milk, the first openly gay elected official in California.

Gilbert Baker, heading the Stockholm Pride Parade in 2003.
(Credit Fredrik Persson/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images)

Baker died in 2017, aged 65. In a 2015 interview with CNN, here, he revealed the rationale behind the design of the flag. "We needed something to express our joy, our beauty, our power. And the rainbow did that," he said. "We're an ancient, wonderful tribe of people. We picked something from nature. We picked something beautiful."

https://gilbertbaker.com/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rainbow_flag_(LGBT)

O, Tannenbaum 2025

I love winter and the tradition of the decorated and lighted tree. When I was a little boy, it always felt so connected to the time of the year, the elements, the snow and darkness. Even then, I sensed the pagan roots of this tradition and now that I am an adult, I love it even more.

Descended from the Roman festival of Saturnalia, and from Pagans and Druids from all over Europe, the tree is an expression of the season: deciduous trees, plants, flowers, and crops die off (or go dormant) while the pine remains magically alive, the only thing that stays green in the natural world (the Latin word sempervirent = evergreen) at this time of year. It only makes sense to honor the earth, the season, and the fir itself by bringing it inside to decorate and echo the look of the land.

This is the time of the Winter Solstice, short grey days and long dark nights, where twinkling stars are visible for so much longer. As an homage to the winter sky, lights are put on the tree, again echoing the natural world. It’s also reminiscent of the bonfires many different pagan cultures lit around the countryside to ward off the darkness and chill; lights on the tree bring some light and warmth to this lifeless time of year, and speak to a time when the days will eventually grow longer, the planet will again tilt, and summer will return.

I hope you get to enjoy a seasonal tree of your own this winter.
Happy Holidays!
JEF

LGBT History Month 2025: The Unbreakable Spirit of Robert T. Odeman

Martin Hoyer, known by his stage name Robert T. Odeman, was a German classical pianist, actor, writer, and composer persecuted by the Nazi regime for living openly and unapologetically as a gay man. Born in Blankenese, which became a quarter of Hamburg, he later took his stage name of Robert T. Odeman when he began his career as an actor and musician.

In 1922, he met his first love, architecture student Martin Ulrich Eppendorf, who went by the name Muli, with whom he shared a close and enduring relationship until Muli's untimely death in 1932. But the heartbreak he must have felt did not silence him. He threw himself into his work and Odeman became musical director of the New Theater in Hamburg in 1933 and later opened a cabaret, which the Nazis shut down, claiming it to be "politically subversive." Life under the regime became more and more dangerous. He was betrayed by a boyfriend who turned Odeman in to the Gestapo and consequently arrested under Paragraph 175 (the infamous Nazi law criminalizing homosexuality) in 1937, spending nearly 3 years in prison. After his release in 1940, Odeman was subject to a Berufsverbot (an order of “professional disqualification”) and forbidden from performing in public.

But the worst was yet to come: Odeman was arrested again in 1942 and this time sent to the brutal Sachsenhausen concentration camp. In a twist of fate and unimaginable courage, Odeman managed to escape during a forced death march toward the Baltic Sea in April 1945, alongside other gay prisoners..

After the war and all the unimaginable trauma he had been through, Odeman found inspiration and focused on cultural activities, training as an actor and performing in various theatres. He also wrote satirical poems that were set to music by such notable German musicians as Charles Kálmán and Norbert Schultze. In 1959, he found love again with Günter Nöring. Since same-sex marriage was still a distant dream, Odeman adopted Nöring — a legal workaround used by many queer couples of the time to secure inheritance and other rights. Günter took the name Odeman-Nöring, a quiet but powerful gesture of unity.

Robert T. Odeman lived a full, defiant, creative life — one marked by love, persecution, survival, and ultimately, resilience. He passed away in 1985, at the age of 80, leaving behind a courageous and inspiring legacy.

LGBT History Month 2025: Heroes Richard "Jack" Baker and James "Michael" McConnell

Richard "Jack" Baker and James "Michael" McConnell are hereoes and pioneers in the gay rights movement. They were the first same-sex couple known to obtain a marriage license, have their marriage solemnized, and have it legally recognized by a government, paving the way for future same-sex marriage legal battles.

Jack Baker and Michael McConnell at home, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1970
Photo: Charlotte Brooks, LOOK Magazine collection (Library of Congress)

Pioneers of Marriage Equality

In 1970, Baker and McConnell, in Minneapolis, became the first same-sex couple known to apply for a marriage license. When Hennepin County denied their application, they fought the decision, eventually appealing to the U.S. Supreme Court. While the Supreme Court declined to hear their case, the dismissal set a precedent against same-sex marriage that would later influence the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA). Despite facing legal hurdles, Baker and McConnell managed to get married in 1971, with their marriage legally recognized by the government. Their actions and legal challenge played a significant role in the broader fight for marriage equality, and their story serves as an important part of LGBTQ+ history. Over forty years after Baker and McConnell first applied for a license, Minnesota legalized same-sex marriage on May 13, 2014.

Their story is told in the book THE WEDDING HEARD 'ROUND THE WORLD available through major booksellers and online.

I send eternal gratitude to you both, Jack and Michael...you are the reason I am married to my husband today.

LGBT History Month 2025: The Bravery and Talent of Brian Stonehouse

Born in England in 1918 to an unwed mother, Brian Stonehouse's early years were marked by societal skepticism and the looming shadow of illegitimacy. His family emigrated to France, where his British roots and sexual identity painted him as a perennial outsider and keen observer, a fate that would shape the rest of his life.

Stonehouse's journey took a dramatic turn during World War II when he became a Special Operations Executive for British intelligence. As a gay secret agent often disguised as a French art student named Michel Chapuis, he faced the horrendous trials of three Vichy prisons and survived the brutalities and torture of five Nazi concentration camps. His survival was partially due to his remarkable talent for drawing; he sketched portraits of the guards’ wives and mistresses, securing extra food and shelter in return, all while keeping his personal vow of never painting or drawing a Nazi officer in uniform. His charm and good looks also played a crucial role; in one camp, he befriended an SS guard who offered him protection.

Immediately after the war, Stonehouse returned to Dachau to sketch the crematoria, driven by a strong desire to "bear witness" to the atrocities he had seen. His commitment to documenting history brought him to the War Crimes Tribunal, where he met American Major Harry Haller. It was Haller who persuaded Stonehouse to emigrate to the United States and kickstart his career as an illustrator.

Stonehouse quickly rose to prominence, becoming one of the most sought-after fashion illustrators of his era. His work graced the pages of leading fashion magazines, and his illustrations became synonymous with elegance and style. However, the 1970s saw a shift in his artistic focus. Stonehouse began experimenting with his drawings, showcasing male models and capturing that era's blossoming gay pride and sexuality, infused with hints of his own identity. In 1979, he returned to Britain and became a portrait painter. His clients included members of the Royal family. One of his last portraits of The Queen Mother, who sat for him many times, still hangs in the Special Forces Club in London.

Brian Stonehouse lived his life like a cinematic epic, filled with adventure, artistry, and passion, but above all else, extreme bravery in the face of death. His story even includes an affair with an unnamed male Swedish film star. He passed away in 1998, leaving behind a legacy that bridged the worlds of espionage and fashion, and a life story that continues to inspire.

Left, Stonehouse in uniform. Right, Stonehouse disguised as Michel Chapuis, French art student.

Happy International LGBT History Month 2025!

October is International LGBT History Month!

LGBT History Month provides role models, builds community, and represents a civil rights statement about the contributions to the world of the LGBTQ+ community. You'd think we would be in a better place for LGBT rights by 2025 (as well as rights for women and POC, etc. etc....), but here we are with physical attacks on the community increasing at alarming rates, thanks to the current administration of darkness. Between 67 and 70 anti-LGBTQ bills have been enacted and passed into law in the United States in 2025 alone — surpassing last year's total of 46 according to the Human Rights Campaign Fund. And unfortunately, we still have another 3 months to go to see how much more damage can be done.

The Human Rights Campaign says, "These laws are fueled by an anti-LGBTQ+ Republican establishment — and coordinated, well-funded extremist groups like the Alliance Defending Freedom, Heritage Foundation and the Family Policy Alliance — insistent on trying to control our families and lives." For this reason, it is of grave importance to promote visibility, which engenders understanding and empathy. When people know someone who is LGBTQ, they are far more likely to support equality under the law. But beyond that, our stories can be powerful and empowering to each other, inspiring change.

How It Works
LGBT History Month celebrates the achievements of 31 lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender Icons. Each day in October, a new LGBT Icon is featured with a video, bio, bibliography, downloadable images and other resources. Visit the link at the bottom of this post. There are some wonderful, legendary artists and figures on this year's list, and some new inspiring voices like Sarah McBride, the first trans Congressperson.

Background
In 1994, Rodney Wilson, a Missouri high school teacher, believed a month should be dedicated to the celebration and teaching of gay and lesbian history, and gathered other teachers and community leaders. They selected October because public schools are in session and existing traditions, such as Coming Out Day (October 11), occur that month.

Gay and Lesbian History Month was endorsed by GLAAD, the Human Rights Campaign, the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, the National Education Association and other national organizations. In 2006 Equality Forum assumed responsibility for providing content, promotion and resources for LGBT History Month.

Celebrate Our Heritage
The LGBT community is the only community worldwide that is not taught its history at home, in public schools or in religious institutions. LGBT History Month provides role models, builds community and makes the civil rights statement about our extraordinary national and international contributions.

https://www.lgbthistorymonth.com/

Happy Pride Month 2025!

June is LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transexual, Queer/Questioning) Pride Month to commemorate the Stonewall riots, which occurred at the end of June 1969 (look for my annual blog posting about this important date on the 28th).

Why Pride?

Despite the fact that Pete Buttigieg, an out and proud and well adjusted and brilliantly smart gay man ran a highly successful campaign for President of the United States (remember how everyone said that we no longer have any racism in the United States because a black man was President?), we still have a tremendous problem with homophobia here (especially with the new administration of darkness attacking LGBTQ rights) and around the world. Pride Month is a positive stance against the daily shame, social stigma, discrimination, and violence that the LGBT community still faces here in the United States. In fact, a recent report from the policy research Williams Institute at UCLA showed that LGBT+ people in the United States are NINE TIMES MORE LIKELY THAN NON-LGBT+ PEOPLE TO BE THE VICTIMS OF VIOLENT HATE CRIMES. Gay children are routinely kicked out of their homes and disowned by their families, gay kids and teens and young adults are routinely bullied or attacked or beaten and many end up committing suicide because they are told they are sick or going to hell, and many gay men and women are attacked and beaten and murdered--sometimes in their own homes, while political attacks against the LGBTQ community have increased with destructive, radical conservatives insisting that anyone who stands for LGBTQ rights is somehow "grooming children" for sexual exploitation. In fact there were over 800 anti-LBGTQ bills introduced last year alone. Yet that pales in comparison to some other unfortunately backward places around the world where gay men and women are routinely tortured and slaughtered--sometimes by government-sanctioned assassins, governments who insist that there is no such thing as homosexuality and that such ideas are evil imports from the Western world (Ghana imposes actual JAIL SENTENCES for anyone just identifying as LGBTQ).

The LGBTQ Pride celebration is about the right of lesbians, gay men, bisexuals, and transgendered individuals to exist without being prosecuted, persecuted, tortured, or murdered, not about "not being straight."

The rainbow flag is a universal symbol of hope for LGBTQ people around the world. It first flew in San Francisco's United Nations Plaza for Gay Pride Day, on June 25, 1978. It originally had eight colors--two more than today's version--and was designed by Gilbert Baker, an openly gay artist and activist who sewed the whopping 30' x 60' flag by hand. He had been commissioned to design a symbol for the LGBTQ community by his friend Harvey Milk, the first openly gay elected official in California.

Gilbert Baker, heading the Stockholm Pride Parade in 2003.
(Credit Fredrik Persson/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images)

Baker died in 2017, aged 65. In a 2015 interview with CNN, here, he revealed the rationale behind the design of the flag. "We needed something to express our joy, our beauty, our power. And the rainbow did that," he said. "We're an ancient, wonderful tribe of people. We picked something from nature. We picked something beautiful."

https://gilbertbaker.com/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rainbow_flag_(LGBT)

O, Tannenbaum 2024

I love winter and the tradition of the decorated and lighted tree. When I was a little boy, it always felt so connected to the time of the year, the elements, the snow and darkness. Even then, I sensed the pagan roots of this tradition and now that I am an adult, I love it even more.

Descended from the Roman festival of Saturnalia, and from Pagans and Druids from all over Europe, the tree is an expression of the season: deciduous trees, plants, flowers, and crops die off (or go dormant) while the pine remains magically alive, the only thing that stays green in the natural world (the Latin word sempervirent = evergreen) at this time of year. It only makes sense to honor the earth, the season, and the fir itself by bringing it inside to decorate and echo the look of the land.

This is the time of the Winter Solstice, short grey days and long dark nights, where twinkling stars are visible for so much longer. As an homage to the winter sky, lights are put on the tree, again echoing the natural world. It’s also reminiscent of the bonfires many different pagan cultures lit around the countryside to ward off the darkness and chill; lights on the tree bring some light and warmth to this lifeless time of year, and speak to a time when the days will eventually grow longer, the planet will again tilt, and summer will return.

I hope you get to enjoy a seasonal tree of your own this winter.
Happy Holidays!
JEF

LGBT History Month: Friday of the Purple Hand, 1969

Tomorrow marks the 55th anniversary of a landmark event in the history of gay rights: Friday of the Purple Hand. I am always humbled and filled with gratitude and awe when I read stories of the bravery of my gay brothers and sisters from long ago. The article below from KQED in 2019 offers a fantastic recounting.


Armed with Ink, 1960s Activists 'Struck Back' Against Homophobic Media
by Sarah Hotchkiss fro KQED
Jun 13, 2019

The day that came to be known as “Friday of the Purple Hand” ended in 15 arrests, a broken rib, one set of knocked-out teeth and purple handprints scattered across the San Francisco Examiner’s exterior walls.

Four months after the infamous Stonewall riots in New York City, the Bay Area’s more radical LGBTQ+ organizations of 1969 refused to passively accept negative depictions of their community in the local news. So on Oct. 25, when the Examiner published an article by reporter Robert Patterson under the headline “The Dreary Revels of S.F. ‘Gay’ Clubs,” the newspaper unknowingly issued a powerful call to arms—to the very people it had derided.

The events of that day show that the battleground for the burgeoning gay liberation movement wasn’t just on the streets or in the bars—where LGBTQ+ people demanded the right to live openly and unmolested by police—but within the pages of America’s newspapers and magazines. There, mainstream media’s dismissive adjectives, ironic scare quotes and defamatory headlines had the power to shape public opinion of an increasingly vocal and visible minority group.

And they definitely weren’t expecting a coalition of gay liberation groups to strike back.

The headline of Robert Patterson's Oct. 25, 1969 article about gay breakfast clubs
in the 'San Francisco Examiner.' (Courtesy of the SF Examiner)

A community mobilizes
By today’s standards, Patterson’s article, ostensibly about after-hours “‘gay’ breakfast clubs” (note the scare quotes around the word “gay”), reads like a hit piece.

He described the clientele of these so-called “deviate establishments” in as many grossly homophobic ways as possible, all well beyond the pale: “semi-males with flexible wrists and hips,” “the pseudo fair sex,” and “women who aren’t exactly women.” (In a testament to Patterson’s ‘credibility,’ he was fired by the Examiner in 1972 for a series of stories he wrote about visiting China; the paper concluded he had not actually visited the country.)

The community he described was outraged. “The San Francisco Examiner has surpassed its traditional standard of tastelessness and its predictable appeal for redneck hysteria,” the newly formed gay liberation group, the Committee for Homosexual Freedom (CHF) wrote in a Berkeley Barb response piece. “The entire gay community and all those actively working for true liberation must mobilize to confront the brutal suppression of freedom that the Examiner consistently exemplifies and encourages.”

A date was set after several attempts to engage with the paper’s editor and Patterson directly: a large-scale protest would take place on Oct. 31, starting at 12pm on the sidewalk outside the Examiner’s Fifth Street building.

The “melee,” as the Examiner described it the next day, started when two unknown persons (widely thought to be newspaper employees) dropped bags of purple printer’s ink from the building rooftop onto the peaceful picketers below. “Indignation turned to anger,” one of the protesters later wrote in The San Francisco Free Press. “Feet stepped in the ink. It appeared all around the sidewalks. One or two hands dipped into the ink and a new symbol was born.”

Stevens McClave raises his purple fist in protest

The police initially apprehended just one demonstrator, the first one to put his inky hand on the building walls, but as others protested his arrest, the “Tac Squad” (sardonically described as “close by and ever on the ready”) moved in, raising their batons and declaring the picket line an illegal assembly.

In the ensuing “fracas” (another great 1969 word), a dozen protesters were arrested for disorderly conduct and thrown in the paddy wagon—several on felony charges that were eventually dropped (except for one instance of allegedly biting a police officer). Other protesters took the issue to City Hall, where an additional three were arrested for trespassing, unlawful assembly and remaining at the site of a riot (essentially, staying in the building past closing time).

Unsurprisingly, the SFPD’s heavy-handed response—and the ensuing cases against the arrested protesters—galvanized not just the members of more radical LGBTQ+ groups, but the old guard they initially sought to distance themselves from, creating a network of support that would propel the Bay Area’s gay liberation movement in the years to come.

Marc Robert Stein, professor of history at San Francisco State University and editor of The Stonewall Riots: A Documentary History, thinks the timing of Patterson’s article wasn’t coincidental, and reflected the era’s homophobic attitudes to burgeoning gay organizing. “October was the month when mainstream magazines first covered Stonewall,” he says. “The movement is really growing. And it’s at that moment that there’s this incredibly hostile story.”

Join the gay revolution
Before the events of the Purple Hand and before the creation of the CHF, the largest gay organization in San Francisco was the Society for Individual Rights (S.I.R.), a homophile society (to use the language of the time) founded in 1964.

As the women’s rights, anti-war and Black power movements swept the country, some younger members of the LGBTQ+ community considered S.I.R. to be too conservative. In an April 1969 editorial, Leo Laurence, editor of Vector, S.I.R.’s monthly magazine, broke ranks with the mostly white, middle-class and nonconfrontational members of S.I.R., calling them “timid, uptight, conservative, and afraid to act for the good of the whole homosexual community.”

The time had come, Laurence argued, for everyone to come out to their friends, family and employers, and to be proud of their sexuality. They should be joining forces with other social causes, like the Black Panthers and local unions, and standing up for everyone’s rights.

To illustrate his idea of LGBTQ+ freedom in a subsequent Berkeley Barb interview, Laurence supplied the alt weekly with a picture of two men smiling: Laurence with his arms around his friend Gale Whittington. In no short order, S.I.R. asked Laurence to resign, and Whittington was fired from his job at the States Steamship Company.

The CHF, co-founded by Laurence, Whittington and a few others, was a direct reaction to this double rejection from both “straight” society and the existing gay establishment. And with this effort, they would be all about coalition-building.

The Purple Hand events were co-organized by at least three like-minded groups, including Gay Guerrilla Theater and the Gay Liberation Front. But despite the fracture between Laurence and S.I.R. that precipitated the creation of the CHF months earlier, the old-guard emerged as surprising supporters of the younger demonstrators as well.

In a Nov. 7 Berkeley Tribe piece reflecting on the demonstration and its aftermath, Laurence writes, “I was scared and felt alone in jail, until I learned of the help mobilized ‘outside.’” The Red Mountain Tribe gathered bail money, S.I.R.’s president saved Laurence’s camera film before he was thrown in the paddy wagon, Del Martin (co-founder in 1955 of the lesbian group Daughters of Bilitis) helped CHF find lawyers, writing several sympathetic articles for Vector in the months to come.

“When Gale Whittington and I founded the CHF last spring, we dreamed of a nationwide movement,” Laurence writes in the Tribe. “It’s no longer a fantasy.”

After the Purple Hand
Protests against mainstream media’s depictions of the LGBTQ+ community would continue for years to come. The Purple Hand events, Stein says, are just one example of protests across the country against newspapers and magazines in ’69 and ’70, along with a second wave of protests against television stations and individual shows in ’73.

Tommi Avicolli Mecca, who joined the Gay Liberation Front in Philadelphia when he was a 19-year-old student at Temple University, remembers those times well. “Back in the ’70s especially pretty much any time they did a feature on the community it would be very negative,” he remembers. The GLF would picket or actually enter the newspaper offices, confronting editors and writers of the specific stories.

Through a combination of direct action, face-to-face conversations and larger shifts in society, Mecca says, things gradually changed, fulfilling in many ways Laurence’s early 1969 call-to-arms.

“I think one of the greatest things we did as a community was to come out of the closet,” Mecca says. “By being visible, we broke all the stereotypes. We forced people to engage with us, we forced our families to deal with us, we forced people to see we were just like them.”

https://www.kqed.org/arts/13859570/friday-purple-hand-gay-liberation-1969

LGBT History Month 2024: Willem Arondéus

Willem Arondéus
Photo courtesy of Marco Entrop,
Het Verzetsmuseum Amsterdam (Dutch Resistance Museum)

Future hero Willem Arondéus was born in 1894 in North Holland, Netherlands. After a career as an illustrator, he began writing poetry and novels, illustrating many of his books himself. But everything changed with the coming of the Nazis and WWII.

Wikipedia recounts his work with the resistance: In 1942, Arondéus started an underground periodical called the Brandarisbrief. In 1943, the Brandarisbrief merged with another publication called De Vrije Kunstenaar. Through the merger, Arondéus met Gerrit van der Veen, the editor of De Vrije Kunstenaar. In the resistance, van der Veen specialized in forging identity cards. As a result, Arondéus also became involved in creating forged documents, along with lesbian resistant Frieda Belinfante. A major detriment to the success of these forgeries was the Municipal Office for Population Registration as its existence made the forgeries less useful, since their legitimacy could be checked against the registration lists and determined to be fakes. Arondéus and van der Veen, along with a number of associates, developed a plan to destroy the registration office.

Their attack, which took place on 27 March 1943, was partially successful, and they managed to destroy 800,000 identity cards (15% of the records), and retrieve 600 blank cards and 50,000 guilders. The building was blown up and no one was caught on the night of the attack. However, due to an unknown betrayer, Arondéus was arrested on 1 April 1943. Arondéus refused to give up the rest of his team but his notebook was found, and as a result, a majority of the group were also arrested. Belinfante was the sole person from the group to have survived, forcing her to take on a man's identity and go undercover.

On 18 June 1943, Arondéus was tried and sentenced to death by firing squad, along with 13 other men who participated. Two of the group received clemency, but the others were executed on 1 July 1943. Arondéus pleaded guilty and took the full blame, which may be why two young doctors were spared from execution and given custodial sentences instead. Before his execution, Arondéus made a point of ensuring the public would be aware that he and two other men in the group, Bakker and Brouwer, were gay, asking either a friend or his lawyer (accounts vary) to "Tell people that homosexuals are not cowards." (In Dutch: "Zeg de mensen dat homoseksuelen niet per definitie zwakkelingen zijn.")

In 1945, after the liberation of the Netherlands, Arondéus's family was awarded a posthumous medal by the Dutch government in his honour. In 1984, he was awarded the Resistance Memorial Cross. On 19 June 1986, Yad Vashem recognized Arondéus as Righteous Among the Nations.

December, page from a calendar illustrated by Willem Arondéus,
at the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Netherlands

November, page from a calendar illustrated by Willem Arondéus,
at the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Netherlands

October, page from a calendar illustrated by Willem Arondéus,
at the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Netherlands

Illustration by Willem Arondéus

Illustration by Willem Arondéus

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Willem_Arondeus