Returned to West Hollywood in late 1988 after Wallis Annenberg ended our two year relationship I felt both a sense of relief at not being bound by the expectations of Beverly Hills, and a sense of dread because I was effectively homeless.
As I sat alone drinking coffee at the French Market Place counter, as a wave of 12 steppers surged through the door, laughing, jostling, and weaving together like a school of curious fish enjoying a swim, I suddenly felt a tag of friendship, an invitation to “come with me.”
I was too embarrassed and shocked to reply. Then fellow journalist Craig Hume asked, always politely, if I needed anything. He had an additional bedroom.
Craig saved my life that day. He gave me the space, time, and kindness to fall apart and find new footing. Out of the blue, WeHo City Councilman John Heilman asked me to co-host a cable show called . Going Out and Going Out: Lesbian and Gay West Hollywood For the new City Channel.
That was great. But there was a problem. I was still in the closet. No one else thought I was like that. I didn’t understand the concept of a “glass closet.” I thought of myself as a hippie left out of “sex, drugs, and rock and roll.”
I woke up to a phone call from my childhood friend Chris Schott. His father had been a major general in the Air Force for decades, replacing my father as a colonel. His parents were my godfathers and everyone except us thought we would get married someday.
Chris SchollKaren Aucambe
We laughed when we found out we were both gay.
But Chris called now because he was scared. He was an administrator for the city of Santa Barbara, but he was deeply ashamed of the fact that he was closeted by the terrible domestic violence of gay men, and that he had AIDS.
I tried to help. But he got stuck.
One day I got a call from Cedars-Sinai Hospital and I was Chris’ emergency contact. He was in intensive care, devastated and clinging to life. I told them he had AIDS, but they already knew. I hurried to see him. He was unconscious and caught up in everything. The nurse told me to contact my family immediately.
Maj. Gen. Wesley Schott and my godfather lived at March Air Force Base in Riverside, California. My mother shuddered when Aunt Bobby came in wearing white gloves and casually wiped her fingers on the lampshade.
I didn’t know what to expect. Neither of our mothers were full of compassion.
I told Aunt Bobby to sit down. “Chris is gay and is dying of AIDS. He needs to go to the Cedars now and tell him he loves him before it’s too late.”
she fell down. In the exhausted silence, I had my moment. AIDS defeated my friend. I would have no integrity if I cowardly let him bear her wrath alone. “I’m gay, too,” I said, modestly and forcefully. she already knew.
She asked me to meet her at Cedars. I went home to call my mother.
This was the call I drove 4,776 miles trying to avoid. I didn’t want to lose my family. But that’s what happened. I told her about Chris – then I came out. She couldn’t stand it and hung up. Chris and I went to Cedars to help Aunt Bobby say goodbye. I made her say I love you to Chris.
Even if there was a funeral for Chris, I didn’t go. Chris wasn’t in this world when Uncle Wes died. My mother and I separated long before she passed away.
I was alone. However, after several 12-step meetings, I began to recognize and appreciate this gift of having a “family of choice.”
I accepted the cable show offer and started learning everything I could. I met him on a cable show. frontier Publisher Bob Craig I started freelancing for “Gay Press.” The second wave of AIDS was exploding and I thought the best way I could contribute was to return to journalism.
From left: Richard Rouillard, Jackie Collins, Barry ClostKaren Aucambe
met Gene O’Leary through Richard Rouillard, editor-in-chief of The Advocate. Richard was terrifyingly smart, incredibly well-connected, and brazenly homosexual. he will come here defender from Los Angeles Herald Examiner, where was he She was editor of the Style section and sometimes wrote under the pen name “Bunny Mars.”
Richard met Gene through the National Gay Rights Advocates in San Francisco, which he co-founded in 1979 to fight gay rights cases through influential litigation. Gene served as executive director for many years.
Related: 17 women who changed LGBTQ+ history
From left: Tammy Baldwin, Gene O’LearyKaren Aucambe
When I met her, Jean already had a storied history as an activist. She was an integral part of Democratic politics, serving as co-executive director of the National Gay Task Force with Bruce Bohler.
On March 26, 1977, she used her secret relationship with Midge Costanza, the first female director of communications in President Jimmy Carter’s White House, to hold a three-hour policy meeting inside the White House with 12 selected gay and lesbian leaders.
“So we picked 12 issue areas that we thought were relevant to the White House’s actions and would help us in some way. And I called 12 leaders across the country and asked them to write white papers on everything from immigration to the Civil Rights Commission to prisons to the Federal Bureau of Prisons. We flew them all in.” Gene spoke to gay journalist Eric Marcus about his amazing accomplishments. making gay history Podcast.
Famous 1977 White House Meeting, clockwise from center: Midge Costanza, Robert Moultham, Gene O’Leary, William Kelly, Betty Powell, Charles Brydon, Charlotte Spitzer, Myra Liddell, Cookie Lutkefeder, Ray Hartman, Porky Anderson, George Raya, Frank Kameny, Rev. Troy Perry, Charlotte Bunch, Elaine Noble, Bruce Bohler, And Marilyn Haft.
Gene and Midge (who remained in a glass closet until her death) often talked about how different the world would have been if Jimmy Carter had been re-elected in 1980 instead of the anti-gay Ronald Reagan. In addition to drawing early attention to a new disease killing gay men, some of the federal policies discussed in the Roosevelt Room that day may have been enacted.
Related: President Jimmy Carter dies at 100 — here’s his history as an LGBTQ+ ally
“Thirty years ago,” Midge said at an NGLTF press conference in March 2007. “I received a call from Gene O’Leary and Bruce Voller, co-executive directors of the National Gay Association. [and Lesbian] The task force, and what they said was, “It’s time.” It’s time that the governments we helped elect and the governments we helped pay for no longer discriminate against us. We want to talk, and we want to talk at the White House.”I agree, and certainly the Constitution requires that everyone be represented under these laws, and that would include gays and lesbians.”
“Coming out is a courageous political act.” — 1988 video of Gene O’Leary and Rob Eichberg, co-founders of National Coming Out DayKaren Aucambe
On October 11, 1987, Jean joined approximately 200,000 people in the March on Washington to demand gay rights and funds to fight AIDS. The Reverend Jesse Jackson, Cesar Chavez, and Whoopi Goldberg were among the allies who showed up that day.
After the march, Gene spoke with prominent gay psychologist Rob Eichberg. Eichberg created an EST-style self-help program called The Advocate Experience. Defender’David Goldstein — On what can happen next. They decided to launch a large-scale campaign on October 11, 1988, the one-year anniversary of the second March on Washington.
“One of the things that Jean was passionate about was that she felt that as long as we were visible and people didn’t know that their neighbors were gay, we would always be portrayed as what the right wing wanted to portray, which is the parade in San Francisco,” Jeannie Fort, a close friend of Jean’s who at the time was executive director of Care for Babies with AIDS and co-owner of West Hollywood’s Rose Tattoo, told me.
“Gene and Rob talked about it a lot, and Rob has always been very spiritual, so we talked it over with everyone and decided it would be best to tell it on one particular day. We’d all come out and tell everyone,” she said.
They discussed the idea during lunch at Rose Tattoo. “Jan said, “We want you to help us.” I said, “This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” Do you expect people who have been in the closet to come out one day just because you asked them to? ” And she said, “Yes!” So they continued to plan and I helped them,” Ginny said.
“And lo and behold, people came out on the first National Coming Out Day! I said to Jean, ‘I take back everything I said! I always underestimate you.’ But she did it. They did it together. It’s almost obsolete now. But at the time, people got really emotional about it. They talked about whether or not to do it. It’s a lot easier now than it was back then.
Gene talked to me about the idea and I wrote the story. frontier. With the help of Peter Mackler and Honey Ward of NCOD/LA, my photographer friend Tad Feldman and I shot and produced the launch video. It was the 1980s. Rob gave us an original gay men’s choir song and we covered it with photos and video clips featuring many people who died of AIDS.
Gene’s key message is that “coming out is a courageous political act.”
On November 4, 2003, the night Ginny Fort, Ron Auden, and Steve Pagnet made Palm Springs history as the city’s first black gay mayor and its second gay City Council member, nonsmoker Gene O’Leary told me he had stage 4 lung cancer and had 14 months to live.
Not wanting to ruin Lavender’s history, Gene decided to share his pain. On June 4, 2005, Gene O’Leary passed away at the age of 57. Dr. Rob Eichberg died of AIDS on August 11, 1995. He was 50 years old. The first protease inhibitor was approved by the Food and Drug Administration in December. 6th 1995.
As you watch this video, you will see that we LGBTQ+People have histories that are being erased. we It is being erased. And ask what you can contribute. Maybe by coming out, you’re simply untying yourself. It might be joining or creating a community. We all have a story. what is yours?
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We send you all our love and support on this special day.
— Karen and Max
This post was first published on Karen Aucambe: LGBTQ+ Freedom Fighter!
Source: Advocate.com – www.advocate.com
