
Homo Nest Raided, Queen Bees Are Stinging Mad
Homo Nest Raided, Queen Bees Are Stinging Mad
Reprinted from "The New York Daily News," July 6, 1969
By JERRY LISKER
She sat there with her legs crossed,
the lashes of her mascara-coated eyes beating like the wings of a hummingbird. She was angry. She was so upset
she hadn't bothered to shave. A day old stubble was beginning to push through the pancake makeup. She was a he.
A queen of Christopher Street.
Last weekend the queens had turned
commandos and stood bra strap to bra strap against an invasion of the helmeted Tactical Patrol Force. The elite
police squad had shut down one of their private gay clubs, the stonewall Inn at 57 Christopher St., in the heart
of a three-block homosexual community in Greenwich village. Queen Power reared its bleached blonde head in revolt.
New York City experienced its first homosexual riot. "We may have lost the battle, sweets, but the war is
far from over," lisped an unofficial lady-in-waiting from the court of the Queens.
"We've had all we can take
from the Gestapo," the spokesman, or spokeswoman, continued. "We're putting our foot down once and for
all." The foot wore a spiked heel. According to reports, the stonewall Inn, a two-story structure with a sand
painted brick and opaque glass facade, was a mecca for the homosexual element in the village who wanted nothing
but a private little place where they could congregate, drink, dance and do whatever little girls do when they
get together.
The thick glass shut out the outside
world of the street. Inside, the stonewall bathed in wild, bright psychedelic lights, while the patrons writhed
to the sounds of a juke box on a square dance floor surrounded by booths and tables. The bar did a good business
and the waiters, or waitresses, were always kept busy, as they snaked their way around the dancing customers to
the booths and tables. For nearly two years, peace and tranquility reigned supreme for the Alice in Wonderland
clientele.
The Raid Last Friday
Last Friday the privacy of the stonewall was invaded by police from the First Division. It was a raid. They had
a warrant. After two years, police said they had been informed that liquor was being served on the premises. Since
the stonewall was without a license, the place was being closed. It was the law.
All hell broke loose when the police entered the stonewall. The girls instinctively reached for each other. Others
stood frozen, locked in an embrace of fear.
Only a handful of police were
on hand for the initial landing in the homosexual beachhead. They ushered the patrons out onto Christopher Street,
just off Sheridan Square. A crowd had formed in front of the stonewall and the customers were greeted with cheers
of encouragement from the gallery.
The whole proceeding took on the
aura of a homosexual Academy Awards Night. The Queens pranced out to the street blowing kisses and waving to the
crowd. A beauty of a specimen named Stella wailed uncontrollably while being led to the sidewalk in front of the
stonewall by a cop. She later confessed that she didn't protest the manhandling by the officer, it was just that
her hair was in curlers and she was afraid her new beau might be in the crowd and spot her. She didn't want him
to see her this way, she wept.
Queen Power
The crowd began to get out of hand, eye witnesses said. Then, without warning, Queen Power exploded with all the
fury of a gay atomic bomb. Queens, princesses and ladies-in-waiting began hurling anything they could get their
polished, manicured fingernails on. Bobby pins, compacts, curlers, lipstick tubes and other femme fatale missiles
were flying in the direction of the cops. The war was on. The lilies of the valley had become carnivorous jungle
plants.
Urged on by cries of "C'mon
girls, lets go get'em," the defenders of stonewall launched an attack. The cops called for assistance. To
the rescue came the Tactical Patrol Force.
Flushed with the excitement of
battle, a fellow called Gloria pranced around like Wonder Woman, while several Florence Nightingales administered
first aid to the fallen warriors. There were some assorted scratches and bruises, but nothing serious was suffered
by the honeys turned Madwoman of Chaillot.
Official reports listed four injured
policemen with 13 arrests. The War of the Roses lasted about 2 hours from about midnight to 2 a.m. There was a
return bout Wednesday night.
Two veterans recently recalled
the battle and issued a warning to the cops. "If they close up all the gay joints in this area, there is going
to be all out war."
Bruce and Nan
Both said they were refugees from Indiana and had come to New York where they could live together happily ever
after. They were in their early 20's. They preferred to be called by their married names, Bruce and Nan.
"I don't like your paper," Nan lisped matter-of-factly. "It's anti-fag and pro-cop."
"I'll bet you didn't see
what they did to the stonewall. Did the pigs tell you that they smashed everything in sight? Did you ask them why
they stole money out of the cash register and then smashed it with a sledge hammer? Did you ask them why it took
them two years to discover that the stonewall didn't have a liquor license."
Bruce nodded in agreement and reached over for Nan's trembling hands.
"Calm down, doll," he said. "Your face is getting all flushed."
Nan wiped her face with a tissue.
"This would have to happen right before the wedding. The reception was going to be held at the stonewall,
too," Nan said, tossing her ashen-tinted hair over her shoulder.
"What wedding?," the bystander asked.
Nan frowned with a how-could-anybody-be-so-stupid look. "Eric and Jack's wedding, of course. They're finally
tieing the knot. I thought they'd never get together."
Meet Shirley
"We'll have to find another place, that's all there is to it," Bruce sighed. "But every time we
start a place, the cops break it up sooner or later."
"They let us operate just as long as the payoff is regular," Nan said bitterly. "I believe they
closed up the stonewall because there was some trouble with the payoff to the cops. I think that's the real reason.
It's a shame. It was such a lovely place. We never bothered anybody. Why couldn't they leave us alone?"
Shirley Evans, a neighbor with
two children, agrees that the stonewall was not a rowdy place and the persons who frequented the club were never
troublesome. She lives at 45 Christopher St.
"Up until the night of the
police raid there was never any trouble there," she said. "The homosexuals minded their own business
and never bothered a soul. There were never any fights or hollering, or anything like that. They just wanted to
be left alone. I don't know what they did inside, but that's their business. I was never in there myself. It was
just awful when the police came. It was like a swarm of hornets attacking a bunch of butterflies."
A reporter visited the now closed
stonewall and it indeed looked like a cyclone had struck the premisses.
Police said there were over 200
people in the stonewall when they entered with a warrant. The crowd outside was estimated at 500 to 1,000. According
to police, the stonewall had been under observation for some time. Being a private club, plain clothesmen were
refused entrance to the inside when they periodically tried to check the place. "They had the tightest security
in the village," a First Division officer said, "We could never get near the place without a warrant."
Police Talk
The men of the First Division were unable to find any humor in the situation, despite the comical overtones of
the raid.
"They were throwing more than lace hankies," one inspector said. "I was almost decapitated by a
slab of thick glass. It was thrown like a discus and just missed my throat by inches. The beer can didn't miss,
though, "it hit me right above the temple."
Police also believe the club was
operated by Mafia connected owners. The police did confiscate the stonewall's cash register as proceeds from an
illegal operation. The receipts were counted and are on file at the division headquarters. The warrant was served
and the establishment closed on the grounds it was an illegal membership club with no license, and no license to
serve liquor.
The police are sure of one thing.
They haven't heard the last from the Girls of Christopher Street. ![]()
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