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Thousands
gather
for the 1979 march
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• 1979
MARCH
ON WASHINGTON •
THE PIONEERS
RAY
HILL
Why
the march happened:
There’s a lot of misinformation of what marches
are for and why you do marches. The master of all this
is, of course, Gandhi. You don’t do marches for
them, you do marches for us. The only thing that impresses
the government is voter turnout and what the polls say.
Marches tend to piss people off, especially those who
are caught in traffic. But the effect on the troops
that go there, there’s just nothing like it....
When it works, it’s just activist candy.
Harvey’s
clarion call was not Organize, Organize, Organize. It
was Come out, Come out, Come out. So on the 10th anniversary
of Stonewall, he called for the march, and I don’t
care what Robin Tyler says. That was early June of 1978.
Harvey
wanted the march. “Do you have any idea how expensive
that is?” we asked him. Harvey said the important
thing is for people to come out and see one another
and feel reinforced enough that they will take their
coming out in Washington back to their homes and their
work and their schools. That question, “What did
you do this weekend?” all of a sudden they can’t
wait to tell you, whereas always before they had to
keep quiet.
After
Harvey was assissinated in November of ’78, the
march fell apart.... We had a conference in Minneapolis...and
another in Philadelphia at Independence Hall. [There
was heated debate and discussion, and various leaders
opposed the idea, saying,] “I don’t think
the time is right, maybe look for 1989. We’re too
young as a movement.” When the committee voted,
the march passed by over 60, out of 120 present, with
at least 30 abstaining.
...I
was the sole member of the committee of when to have
it. My birthday is October 13, Columbus Day weekend,
so.... [The 1979 march was held October 14. Later marches
have been held in the spring, because Ray’s birthday
is just too cold in Washington.]
At
the march: Houston had a band and L.A.—they
were the only two—and they marched up on the demonstration
grounds and played “If My Friends Could See Me
Now.” Phyllis’ flag became a standard. When
you get to the parade, how to find your friends? You
invite Phyllis Frye and she runs up a Texas flag about
the size of the Exxon building.
The
first march was phenomenal in terms of what marches
are supposed to do. From the perspecitve of the march
participants—which is what the march is for—there’s
magic in marches.... You leave town broke, but you don’t
care.
ce="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2">...What’s
causing the moisture in the corner of my eye is all
these people are dead. I got to work with these people
when they were young and vital and relevant. The most
important work to be done. We were embarking a movement.
When
I got on stage...immediately in front of you are wheelchairs
and people with crutches, and their faces...well, you
don’t need lights. Then behind them are legions
of people getting more than they expected. The thing
with marches is you give them more than they expect.
I introduced Allen Ginsberg and Peter Orlovsky. It was
the first time they had appeared as a couple. I was
in Texas Ruby drag—Texas Ruby was a famous female
singer, the Selena of cornpone—a Texas hat and
patent leather boots. (I do have some queer flair.)
I take that off and put on trustee drag. I’d got
out in 1975—because there were lots of people who
couldn’t be there. Allen Ginsberg later wrote a
poem called “Those Who Couldn’t Come.”
If
we had not done what we did in ’79, what would
we have done about AIDS? ’79 was the building element
that allowed us to deal with AIDS. ’93 was a celebration
of how responsible we’d been with AIDS.
The
marches, whether you want them to or not, become creatures
of their individual times. Not just in our self-worth
psyches, but in our collective psyches. I have no qualms
telling people. I don’t care how many marches you’ve
been to or not been to, go to the march. I don’t
care about the politics behind the scene.
What
Harvey Milk convinced me, the march is about coming
out. Self-actualization happens in the company of such
a massive gathering of gay poeple that guilt is frightened
away.
PHYLLIS
FRYE
In 1979, we were poor as church mice. I wanted
to go to Washington and I couldn’t afford it...so
I came up with a bus trip. It was principally out of
the church [MCC], but anyone could come.
We
left on a Friday afternoon, drove all night and the
next day. There was a restaurant outside D.C. where
I’d set up beforehand that we could stop, get cleaned
up, and have breakfast. Well, when we came back out
of the restaurant, the bus wouldn’t start. I told
the deacons, you need to lead us...so we all circled
that bus, and lay hands on it. And the bus started.
[Laughs heartily.]
So
we were driving in frantically, getting in at 12:30,
and the march had started at noon. It was perfectly
timed—the Lord answers prayers, she really does—we
got up to the Texas section just exactly as they were
stepping off to march—we didn’t wait more
than 10 seconds.
The march was for gay rights. I tried to make it for
transgender rights and got thoroughly trashed.
The
Texas delegation was 12 across and eight rows deep of
Texas flags, and I was in front with the U.S. flag.
I had no idea they were going to stick me in front.
The Montrose Marching Band was first. Clint Montcrief—cute
as a button and sexy as hell—was the drum major.
So there was the band, then me with the U.S. flag, then
the UH gay students, then all the rows of Texas flags.
It
was very exciting. I had my U.S. flag in one hand and
my Bible in another. Every time we went by the religious
protesters, I just glared at them and waved my Bible...I
was so sick of the queerhaters wrapping themselves up
in the flag—I’m a veteran—wrapping themselves
up in the flag and thinking God was just for them.
When
we were so rushed getting off the bus, half of us did
not hear where it was going to pick us up and word somehow
did not get passed along. It was cold, really cold,
and then the bus didn’t come. We were holed up
in this public restroom where it was warmer, about 50
degrees, and had sentries posted outside to look for
the bus. It finally pulled up about midnight, and we
headed back to Texas.
I
could tell a change in a lot of people who had gone
who weren’t active before. The marches themselves
don’t accomplish a lot in terms of changing votes
of U.S. representatives. But it does change people and
it emboldens them. They’re all full of excitement
and energy that they have to do something with: start
self-help organizations, or political or whatever. We
saw a huge huge burst. It really helps the people who
go. But me, I was already extremely active.
March
on Washington intro • 1987
• 1993
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