March Memories - Letter to the Editor

Past marchers tell why 1979, 1987, and 1993 are years they will never forget

Pam Bozkurt, 45 Middleton, Mass.

My participation in the 1993 march was a last-minute decision. We were able to get tickets to Washington, D.C., and back the day of the march. Seeing the AIDS quilt, the waving rainbow flags, the energy, the love, and the pride plastered all over every gay and lesbian face was something I will carry with me forever. It was soft and quiet yet so powerful.

Richard J. Follett, 52 Van Nuys, Calif.

I have been to all three previous marches, and my life was changed at each through the loving solidarity of the mass crowds, the Universal Fellowship of Metropolitan Community Churches worship services, the walk by the Reagan White House, bumping into old friends from around the country, and by six men on the sidewalk who held up a sign that read STRAIGHT MEN FOR GAY RIGHTS.

Maria Gallagher, 37 New Orleans, La.

Standing on the Mall watching the AIDS quilt being unveiled for the first time was the most memorable thing of the 1987 march. Having just come out, I realized how much we all needed to help each other. Now 13 years later, I look back and miss many, many friends who have. passed on and realize how far we still have to go.

Janet Harris, 39 Janesville, Wis.

I attended the 1993 march on Washington with a friend, who at the time was an openly gay candidate for the Wisconsin legislature. A local TV news reporter traveled with us to record the event. I wasn't out to my father yet, and I owned a business in a small town, so I was worried about the fallout if I was included in any of the local news coverage.

It was empowering to walk down the Mall, surrounded by thousands of strangers who were supporting gay rights. I was wondering if everybody there was experiencing the same feeling, when I noticed an older man walking next to me. This man lived through Stonewall, I thought, He lived through a difficult time and helped pave the way for my generation, It wasn't long before I realized I knew this older man, He was my uncle's constant companion, or, as he was known to my family, my uncle's "hired hand? He looked up when I said his name, and we both just stood there for a second, not speaking, feeling the same bolt of recognition. He is gay. I am gay. My uncle is gay. A generation-old family secret was revealed to me, and I felt almost absolved. I had traveled 2,000 miles from home to discover my own gay history.

Mary Gay Hutcherson, 57 Richmond, Va.

I was so empowered by the 1993 march that I came out to several family members and friends afterward. I also felt more comfortable with myself as a lesbian and more entitled to be who I am. My mother hasn't talked to me since (and that's better than not being myself with her), but I am closer to those who have stretched themselves to understand.

Gregory Klosek, 52 Brooklyn, N.Y.

The 1979 march happened a few months after I met the man I describe as "the brother my parents never gave me," The 1987 march happened a few months after his partner's first bout with AIDS-related pneumonia. My "brother" and I pushed his wheelchair along the march route. The 1993 march happened a few months after his partner's death, The march may officially be a political demonstration, but for me it's been more of an exercise in family values.

Patrick Letellier, 36 Oakland, Calif.

After the march in 1993 there were tens of thousands of people all over Dupont Circle, Queers were everywhere, moving in all directions. I was sitting with a group of friends on a small patch of grass when, across the street, a man started yelling, "Jim! Jim!" There was no response, though. "Jim! I'm over here! Jim!" Again, no response. Finally the guy yelled at the top of his lungs, "Hey, girlfriend!" And I kid you not, 10,000 gay men stopped in their tracks and immediately turned their heads--responding to the call. Then hundreds of us started laughing, It was a queer moment shared by thousands. Did it change my life? Not in the same way the other events that day had. But it is certainly one of my fondest memories, and it still makes me smile.

Ken Mauldin, 48 Baton Rouge, La.

In 19791 was fortunate to run into a loosely organized group of gays and lesbians in Mobile, Ala., called the Gulf Alliance for Equality, A decision was made within the group to send representatives to the march, We baked cookies and held yard sales to send us to Washington, D.C., for the unprecedented gathering. Five of us went. I was the sole male representative, and I enjoyed the trek with my lesbian companions. Driving in shifts, we made the trip in 20 hours, It was empowering for us and probably for everyone on the Mall that day in October. We had no idea that so many gay people could be assembled, and for that one afternoon we were quite infused with a delicious feeling of enthusiasm and invincibility. It was sweet.

Alex MacLennan, 28 Laurel, Md.

I came out at the march on Washington in 1993 when I was interning at a public relations firm in Dupont Circle. I'll never forget the sight of man after man after man rising out of the Dupont Circle Metro station. I left the office at 5 P.M. and walked down Q Street in the direction I had seen everyone go. The first bar I stopped at was JR's, where I scuttled to the back and hid like a crab. By midnight I was surrounded by thousands of cheering, cheerful gay men and women, taken in by a group from Denver and Virginia, and sure that I had found "my place." Annie Lennox sang and sang and sang, Sadly, by Sunday, I was afraid to leave the house for the actual march. I stayed in, unable to find an excuse to leave, despite total freedom and totally (I know now) understanding parents. Seven years later I work for a national gay organization and am helping support this march, the community, and the futures of thousands of kids like me.