Less Noble Stonewall Vets: An Oral History
From June 28, 1969, brave stories emerged.
Bob McGurk: I remember it like yesterday. The air was thick. Energy electric.
Gail Pyrath: It was my first trip to NYC, and I got in late. Still, I couldn’t wait. My small town passions were blazing.
Lady Kirbath Reeves: There was one place I could be my true self: Stonewall.
But so did other stories.
Reeves: My true self was a drunk, honey. Though let me clarify: I wasn’t just any drunk. I was drawn to this particular cocktail made with scotch and Cherry Heering.
McGurk: I’d struggled so long, but this was finally it: the night I perfected my Waldorf salad.
Pyrath: For me it was about a love that dare not speak its name. And that name? General Stonewall Jackson.
These are those other stories.
Pyrath: When I learned NYC had a Stonewall Jackson museum? Well I had to go! Even if it is a dirty den of a sinful city.
Reeves: Now mind you scotch could be found at any ol’ flophouse. But Cherry Heering? Stonewall was the one place that had it.
McGurk: I’d finally found my pride — in salads without lettuce.
As evening progressed, there was no stopping fate.
Pyrath: I headed downtown right from the airport. My cabbie warned The Village was loaded with homosexuals, but I paid it no mind. I was going to Stonewall. No reason to see their kind there.
McGurk: The plan was dinner and then Stonewall. But that salad. My guests couldn’t stop forking at it!
Steve Wycott (dinner guest): Gotta say, Bob’s salad really was on another level. I guess the apples were just particularly sweet or whatever.
Reeves: Child, I needed a strong drink that night. Remember, Judy had just passed —
Pyrath: My first impression of Stonewall? That it was appropriately dark, the way Confederate hideaways would’ve been.
Reeves: —ya see, I never cared for Garland —
Pyrath: Also, that the actors playing soldiers were huddled so close. To show how troops bonded, obviously.
Reeves: —I simply had to toast that overrated cow’s timely death!
Pyrath: Oh, and this was my first time learning how Confederate men sometimes dressed as women and gave each other the code name “Mary” in order to fool Union troops. Liberal schools don’t teach that!
Around 1am, cops raided Stonewall. Many raged. Others went, “meh.”
McGurk: Late that night, a friend called. Well, an acquaintance, really, because a friend would’ve been at my party. Anyway, he told me cops were raiding Stonewall, so I didn’t hesitate! I grabbed my shoes and bounded outside — to the bodega, for more walnuts.
Wycott: The walnuts were the best part.
Pyrath: When the rioting started, I of course knew right away what it was: A reenactment of the Battle of Bull Run.
McGurk: Right as I round onto Christopher Street, I realize I need to shit, and now. Fortunately the bodega was right beside Stonewall, which I remembered had bathrooms.
Reeves: Lord, this white boy ran in from outside, grabbing his ass and screaming “I can’t take it any more!” Well that really got the crowd going.
McGurk: The salad had all that fiber, ya know?
Reeves: Everyone’s looking for something to throw and starts eyeing the liquor. I had to think, and fast. “Briiishck!” I slurred. Darling, I’d come too far and struggled too long to not fight. For my Heering.
Pyrath: Gotta say, I hadn’t expected audience participation. But then one of the lady-soldiers yelled something resembling “brick,” so I grabbed one that happened to be laying around for 1860’s authenticity. Chucked it right at a guy dressed like a Union leader, who acted real mad. Started clubbing his castmates. Good actor, that guy!
McGurk: Back at my apartment, everyone was buzzing about what’d happened. I was nervous they’d heard I nearly crapped myself. But they were just pissed about the riots. Specifically how they kept me from getting the nuts.
Rioting continued the next night.
Reeves: By night two I was steaming mad. No bar, no Heering.
Pyrath: I didn’t go back the next day. Stonewall may be a god among men, but Sunday’s for the Lord!
McGurk: Night two I got arrested. In my defense, Gristedes was outta celery, and you can’t make a goddamn Waldorf without goddamn celery!
The legacy endures.
Pyrath: No, I’ve never researched another thing about Stonewall. That summer night was too momentous. Don’t wanna corrupt the memories.
Reeves: Younger generations will never understand. Nowadays a damn drone will overnight an aperitif to your bed. But back then? You had to go where the action was. And for New York gays in ’69, Stonewall was it. For rare cordials.
McGurk: The seventies were decadent: Salads nightly! The eighties had health scares: high cholesterol made me ditch the mayonnaise crucial to my dressing. But by the nineties I had drugs to manage that, and making salads became just another part of life. I’ll have to say though: None as good as that one in ’69.
Wycott: It’s true. He’s never made one as good.
But the work continues.
Reeves: I guess I’d like to be remembered as a survivor. Of twelve interventions. Of court-enforced AA. Of Judy’s harsh vibrato.
McGurk: No, I’m no hero. I’m absolute shit at making soup.
Pyrath: Personally, I haven’t been back to New York since. Too queer.