Officers arrested people on what Johnston deemed "trumped-up charges" like disorderly conduct or public indecency. To prove incumbents were "anti-pervert" and tough on crime, police would raid bars without warrants. During elections, "we knew what was coming," Johnston said. "Anybody who worked at a gay bar in the '70s was at least once arrested at one time or another."īartenders were frequently arrested for delivering drinks across the bar in what was considered an illegal attempt between patrons to solicit sex. "And back then, frankly, the police and authorities didn't even want us to have that," Johnston said. Some remained closeted in their public lives, letting go only inside the walls of Sam's or the Annex.
The dance clubs and bars were the only place many gay people could be open about their sexuality without threat, he said.
"Because it goes right at the heart of the only places we ever had." "It's another thing that makes what happened in Orlando so horrific," he said. In the decades long before the Center on Halsted or corporate floats in the Pride Parade, bars were one of the precious few places gay people felt comfortable gathering, Johnston said. "That's a quote from somebody - not me - but that's all true." "I will tell you, when you've had the opportunity to love and be loved, all the rest is background noise," Johnston said solemnly. The couple wed in October 2015 after 40 years together. Johnston met the bartender in the 1970s, shortly after moving to Chicago from a teaching job in a North Carolina school.Īrthur Johnston (r.) and his husband Jose "Pepe" Peña. None of the good Johnston has done in 40 years of activism would have been possible, he says, without Jose "Pepe" Peña. "It's the only reliable, safe place we've had." "It's no accident that the modern gay rights movement begins at the bar," he said. To Johnston, these are the ugly chapters in an otherwise rich history of Chicago's LGBTQ community - much of which happened in its bars. To move forward, it is vital a new generation learns from the mistakes that caused so much harm to gay people in the past. "We find the deep inner strength we have and keep going, because we're not going anywhere." "We have to reach out to each other figuratively and literally hold on to each other and move forward," Johnston said. Johnston, who co-owns Sidetrack The Video Bar with his husband, has seen his community stand strong against such acts of hate, and he knows "we will do what we have always done." RELATED: This LGBT Poet Stunned A Packed Room With Her Thoughts On Orlando Shooting We have been under attack as long as I can remember." Still, "while our hearts are heavy with grief, we have just as much anger," said Arthur Johnston, 72. Their photos and names will lead the parade. Sunday's procession will begin, instead, on a somber note, with a moment of silence honoring the 49 people killed in an gay night club in Orlando June 12. Hodges legalizing same-sex marriage nationwide, the tide finally broke in the long, bitter fight, and Boystown celebrated with new heights of exuberance.
With the Supreme Court ruling in Obergefell v. The days leading up to the 2015 parade were explosively joyful. BOYSTOWN - It seemed only fitting that the 46th Chicago Pride Parade became, in many ways, a victory march.