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Qsaltlake.com | ISSUE 311 | May, 2020
Coming out a generation ago BY BEN WILLIAMS
We all
know that “coming out” is a process, although most of us have a defining moment from which we choose to celebrate an anniversary of sorts. Perhaps it’s telling your best friend, your folks, or attending Gay Pride Day. Mine was in bed with two other fellows talking about our fathers. Now, I am not telling you this to be salacious nor to boast, but just to explain that I had a conscious realization 25 years ago that what I truly desired was not random sex but rather an association with other gay people. I desperately wanted to have the feeling of belonging. I don’t know if it’s true today whether coming out has the same impact on gay people as it did 35 years ago when I came out and stayed out. It’s hard to explain or convey the feeling of solitary confinement that being in the closet felt like to gay people a generation ago. Back then only a handful of movies depicted gays and lesbians in a positive light. Rock Hudson had just died of AIDS and disparagingly cruel jokes were made at his expense. No gay character was on TV unless you count Billy Crystal’s Jodie character on Soap or Steve Carrington’s Dynasty character who became straight. There was Fame but no Glee. Ellen DeGeneres had not come out. There was no Will and Grace. No constant media attention on all things LGBT. In fact there was no LGBT; only gays and lesbians. No youth groups, no gay-straight alliances, no PFLAG, no anti-discrimination laws, no thought of gay unions let alone gay marriage. Sodomy was illegal. All gay people were criminals and sexual outlaws in Utah whether we were doing it in the bushes or in our bedrooms. Salt Lake City’s housing ordinances prevented same-sex men renting one-bedroom apartments. It was pretty dismal but also exciting because it kind of felt like we were living in war time. A generation ago, when I came out,
being gay was nearly considered a death sentence. When gay was discussed at all it was almost synonymous with AIDS. The first time I had ever seen the word AIDS it was scrawled on a bathroom wall as an acronym for “Anally Injected Disease Syndrome.” When I told my family that I was gay they were devastated not because I was gay but they were sure that I would die of AIDS. Actually it was the fear of dying young and never being true to one’s core identity that drove many gay men, including myself, out of the closet and out of marriages entered into as a promised cure for homosexuality. A generation ago men and women coming out were leaving wives, husbands and children behind in a grief-driven Sophie’s Choice moment. Many of the support groups that sprang up at the time dealt with gay fathers, lesbian mothers, children of gay parents and spouses of gay people all trying to repair broken families. For those coming out 25 years ago there was only one entry in the phone directory under the word gay. It was the Gay Help Line (533-0927) created in 1975, and kept in operation by a variety of individuals through the years. The Gay Help Line informed those “coming out” of the few support groups like Affirmation and Lesbian and Gay Student Union at the University of Utah, the locations of bars, and also served as a suicide prevention line. One of the most harrowing calls I was told of was when a operator was thanked by a caller for listening to his anguished story, and then he heard a gunshot on the other end. A generation ago suicide was rampant, but only known among the friends and families affected.
No one posted an obituary mentioning suicide or AIDS or being gay. In fact, straights kind of expected gays to “bump themselves off” at the end. Health resources for gays, though there were several, were primitive 25 years ago. They included the Salt Lake County VD Clinic, Gay Alcoholics Anonymous, The AIDS Hot Line, Community Service Clinic, and the fledgling Utah AIDS Project and Salt Lake AIDS Foundation. A generation ago there was a small, nearly underground, but vibrant gay community if one knew where to look. Without any true center of the community to help people with coming out, the bars and taverns of Utah offered a sense of belonging for those adventurous enough to maneuver the state-mandated sponsorship system of getting into a bar. A generation ago there were seven bars in Salt Lake City that catered to gays and lesbians, while Ogden had two. The Salt Lake City bars included The Sun, the In-Between, Backstreet, the Deerhunter, Reflections, Radio City Lounge, and Puss and Boots. Ogden’s bars were the Blue Horizon and the Wall Street Journal. These bars were not particularly “straight friendly” due to the fact that heterosexuals saw these spots as “freaky places.” In fact the In-Between kept a sign posted on its front door saying that it was a gay establishment and that if you are easily offended, stay out! The Sun, which stood on the northwest corner of what is now the Vivint Smarthome Arena, was probably the most famous
