DM: Well, I mean, what got me out to California. I became political with John Kennedy, an Irish Catholic family, and if we didn’t go out and put bumper stickers and call cards for St. John, as my mother called him, I think she wore black for six months after he died. Jackie didn’t wear black that long. And so that’s when we became political as a family.

And that interest continued certainly through the civil rights movement and seeing the power that the Congress and the president of the United States had on things that I cared about. During the Vietnam War is when I became super political and super active, and I lost four in my family in Vietnam. And, if you haven’t been to a military funeral, I hope you never do have to go. It is devastating for a military family, and I went to four of them.

I went to California to come out in 1976, and I was 30 years old. Up until that point, I had been very successful in politics through the anti-war efforts, and I was on the McGovern Commission to reform the Democratic Party. I wrote a couple of their most successful planks, including 50% of all the delegates had to be women and have proportional representation in states that held primaries and caucuses, which meant if you got 30% of the vote, you got 30% of the delegates, because when I was working for Eugene McCarthy, we would get 70% of the vote in Pennsylvania, and we would get two delegates or we’d get X amount of votes in a certain state, and it would be two delegates because the bosses ran the party.

We got them passed and broke up most of the machines in the major cities at the time, but I went to California and came out of the closet, and when I went around to continue my involvement in major races, you know, campaigns, ballot initiatives, the moment I came out, I wasn’t welcome.

What about the Democrats here? Not only was I not welcome, people who I had contributed to in the past in 1976 and before sent their checks back. I was too hot to handle. And it was devastating to me quite honestly. I knew there would be problems with my family when I came out, and there was – I couldn’t go home for three to four years, but it was devastating that you would open up and people who I thought were friends and who I helped win elections sent their checks back. They weren’t big checks, sometimes $25, but they thought I was so controversial for the mere act of saying who I am. What’s so controversial that they sent them back, so I went into a little bit of a depression, and, if you’ll pardon my language, fuck them, I said to myself.

This is not acceptable, and I know how to do this, and my community was fighting initiatives all over the country. Anita Bryant, one in Miami and St. Paul, Wichita. I was a member of a support group of 30 men who were all professional, white-collared people who had come together called Orien to support each other as we came out. Because that was the time that Harvey Milk came out. And so I talked to them about politics, and, by the way, of the 30 men I worked with for a long time, I’m the only one still alive who made it to 40. Everybody else died of AIDS. I am the only survivor. I gave eulogies at 29 of their funerals. We decided to form – what we didn’t quite know at the time – the first LGBTQ+ PAC in the history of the world. There had never been a political action committee in the community. I was working politically for a lesbian couple, Diane Abbitt and Roberta Bennett, Phyllis Lyon, and Del Martin, and Pat Denslow, some of the legendary Zgures from the women’s game. Ivy Bottini. And, they said, look, it can’t be all bad. And I said, you’re right. So, a couple of us of that 30 said to the rest, if we’re going to do something historically, we have to do it right.

And so, we insisted that 50% of the board be women, 50% be gay men. And that instead of just one chair, we would have two co-chairs, and one had to be a woman and one had to be a man. We didn’t realize that again at the time that this was the first national LGBTQ organization to do that, because there had been a history of tension between the two communities, mostly caused by gay men, because there was a great deal of misogyny. In fact, in that group, we had to fight hard to get the votes to make that a reality. I didn’t believe lesbian issues or women’s issues were the same as ours.

And not only that, but we also adopted what looked like a very conservative platform at that time. We included abortion because our lesbian sisters asked us to. And that just wasn’t done and made a lot of people crazy, but we got through it. Not only did we get through it, but I also remember we had our first fundraiser, and everyone expected us to bring in the usual $5,000 to $6,000.

And we ended up bringing in $40,000 at that fundraiser, which was unheard of. And, just as we go for it and got moving, there was that city council president who was anti-gay in Los Angeles and supported a vehemently anti-gay police chief named Davis. We wanted to get rid of the police chief, and the only way we could do it was to beat the city council speaker, John Gibson, but, unfortunately, he represented the district in the Harbor, San Pedro, very working-class, white-collar. No one thought we could defeat him. As a result, the Republicans didn’t even put up anyone against him. He ran alone for years.

No one else would accept our money. We wanted to give them money. We raised money like a PAC, and no one else would accept it. And one of the few times in my life had I seen politics, political wars funding religion – the wrong kind of religion. So, we found this For Peace and Freedom Party candidate named Jim Stanberry. And we poured money into him and hundreds of volunteers. You have to understand, he got 3% before and people said, what are you doing? I said, well, we’ve got to do something.

And he ran against him, and well he got 40% of the vote. When people saw how little power the city council president had in his own district, they removed him as president, and we got rid of the police chief. And that was our first victory. It came from strategic, well-placed resources, volunteers. And going to that age, we could have fallen, if we ended up with 2% of the vote, we would have lost all credibility. And we’ve got to take chances in the struggle for freedom. And that was really terrific.

Fortunately for us, we had had that victory and a lot of credibility. Now, suddenly, everybody wanted to be part of MECLA called Municipal Elections Committee of Los Angeles. And so we had some resources. Anita Bryant came to California with State Senator John Briggs and put on the ballot California Proposition 6 that said if you are homosexual and discovered as a teacher or anyone accused you of being a homosexual, a child, a parent, whoever, you had to go before the school board, and they would take a vote whether you were one or not, and if you were found to have those tendencies, you would lose your teaching credentials for life. And Anita Bryant had won in all those places by 60% plus, some 70, and a large segment of especially the money community, but also the grassroots said, let’s not fight it.

We don’t have the money. We’re going to lose big, and maybe if we don’t fight it, we can say, well, we didn’t oppose it, it was just that we withdrew from the election. But, there was a small group of us, and they really went after us because we wanted to fight it. I said, how can you remain silent in the face of such horrendous discrimination? And we didn’t have any money because the money people wouldn’t support us, and I always got I’m good at raising money. My daddy says you have to milk a cow twice a day, and if you don’t, it’s in pain. Well, that’s how I feel about people with money. You got to milk them twice a day. And, if you don’t, they’re in pain.

Reverend Troy Perry, founder of the Metropolitan Community Church, who, I believe at that time, had one of the biggest grassroots organizations in the country because no, none, zero churches would allow us to attend as openly gay people. So, he formed the Metropolitan Community Church, and he had congregations all over the country. He was part of this very small group that we thought we’d have to fight. And he said, “I’m going to fast until we get $100,000,” which is like almost half-a-million dollars in today’s terms, and he said, “not pledged, but in the bank.” He fasted for 17 days, and, at the end of 17 days, we had $100,000 in the bank, and we were able to open a campaign office and start all sorts of fundraising.

We had another fundraising problem when we went to fight this initiative, because if you gave more than $99 in California, you had to be reported on the disclosure form. At that time, in 1977 I think it was, a vast majority of people were still in the closet, like 80% were still in the closet, and even lower among monied people, and they didn’t want to give. We got more $99 checks than I’ve ever seen in my life. I had dreams about $99 because we couldn’t break past that barrier, and we needed some big checks.

So, I called a Los Angeles Herald Examiner reporter friend, and they came out and I said, you know, if you could maybe do a column on the fact that people are afraid to give more than $99 and that maybe that will help shame a few people, you know? So, I was hoping for like a third, an op-ed piece, or a column by this reporter friend who was closeted.

And the next day, a whole banner headline was across the front page: “Fear Stalks NO on Six Campaign.” It was a story about how people were afraid to give. Our phone started ringing off the hook. Norman Lear, Lily Tomlin, John Travolta pledging $1,000, $2,000, Paul Newman, Robert Redford, Norman Lear. And suddenly, like, I think in one day we raised like $50,000. Once all those names, Burt Lancaster was on it, were on the disclosure forms, no one could tell who was gay or who wasn’t. And that changed it all. We were able in the end to raise $2.5 million dollars and win.

We became the first group to defeat an initiative or a referendum on gay rights in the country, and, interestingly, our victory, if the truth be told, belongs to a lot of people and certainly to our community. But a key figure in that was Ronald Reagan. I was campaign manager with Peter Scott. When we started, 75% of the people in California supported taking teachers’, who were gay, certificates away for life. 75% and as the polling we got to about a month out and suddenly we were at 46%, 54 to 46, but to get to 46% we had to pull everything we knew out, and we didn’t know what else to do, and we were so close. Well, Peter, and I, my partner at the time, happened to know some very closeted Reagan staffers. They were terrified to meet with us at the time because we were very public with the initiative– well-known gays, self-proclaimed gays, self-identified gays, avowed gays. I never understood what avowed homosexuals meant, as they wouldn’t let us get married, so we couldn’t take vows. I didn’t understand it at all.

Three of Reagan’s top advisers met us at a Denny’s in East Los Angeles, a Mexican Denny’s because they knew no one would know them as Republicans, showing up in the middle of summer with the raincoats, hats, and sunglasses. I’m not making this up, and they said, “What do you want? How can we help?” And, I said, “I want a meeting with Governor Reagan, 15 minutes to talk about this issue.” And, they said, “David, you know, he’s going to come out in favor of this initiative.” I said, “I think he is, but I know that is the last thing that might tip this in our favor.” They called us back and said, “We’ve got your 15 minutes on the calendar. It was a little complicated for us, but we got it. You have your 15 minutes, and then they’re going to usher your ass out of the ouce and know that’s where he’s at.”

Peter and I went in. I even got a new suit to put on and did my best to be a Republican. We went in, and the famous jellybeans were on the desk. I must say, of all the politicians I’ve met within my life on any number of issues, he was one of the most gracious. He welcomed us, offered me jellybeans. I was so nervous, I almost poured the full jar of jellybeans into my hand, and we sat across the desk, and he said, “Well, son, what can I do for you?” He knew why we were there, and I said, “Well, Governor, you know why we’re here. We want you to come out against Proposition 6.”

He said, “Well, boys, you know, I’m not going to do that. You know I appreciate you coming in here. It shows a great deal of respect to me and my position. Rarely do I have people who have the courage from the other side to come in and ask for help.” I said, “Well, thank you, Governor, but I’m stunned that you’re on the other side.” He said, “Stunned? What do you mean you’re stunned?”

And then I said, “Well, I never thought I’d live to see the day where Ronald Reagan would support anarchy in the schools.” He said, “What the hell are you talking about, anarchy in the schools?”

I said, “Well, I don’t know if your people have read this initiative, but I have, and I’ve had lawyers check it out before I came in here today. There’s a phrase here that says if a teacher is accused – whether they’re straight or gay – of being a homosexual, it is mandatory that a trial takes place before the school board where they could lose their teaching credentials for life. Now, I said, “Governor, I’ve read your biography. I know you played practical jokes. We come from sort of similar backgrounds; that line alone means that any child who’s facing a failing grade for not doing their homework or any child that acts up in the school and is threatened with expulsion or detention, all they’d have to say is that that teacher or principal is gay. Teachers and administrators would be terrified of this initiative because it could stop their income for life.”

He said, “You’re kidding me.” I said, “No, Governor, don’t take my word here. We highlighted it for you,” and we handed over this section of Prop 6. And he said, forgive my French, “Those stupid fuckers.” We ended up talking for 45 minutes. He wanted to know more about the issue, and they kept coming in and saying, “you only got 15 minutes,” and he told them to go away. At the end, we got up, and he walked us to the door, and I said, “Governor, can I ask what you’re going to do?” And, he said, “Nope, we can’t.” We both laughed and walked out of the office.

Now you have to understand, this is important, especially in today’s context. Nobody in the movement wanted us to go see Ronald Reagan. They didn’t want us to have a meeting with him, didn’t want us to acknowledge him, thought we were fascists for going to see him, that we would lend credibility to him. We only got their approval to go by agreeing that we would resign as co-chairs, if we went, and he came out against the initiative, which they 100% agreed that he would. So, we went back to the headquarters. Everyone is all riled up, pure, and self-righteous.

It was a difficult couple of days. And then three days after we met him, on the front page of the L.A. Times, and in every newspaper in the state, was a column by Ronald Reagan coming out against Proposition 6 because it would create anarchy in the schools. Two weeks later, election night came around, and we won the election 54 to 46, the first time ever – statewide in California – and carried 80% of the counties. So, Ronald Reagan put us over the top.