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Defining Documents in American History: Dissent and Protest

Gay Power Comes To Sheridan Square

by Aaron Gulyas, MA

Date: 1969

Author: Lucian Truscott IV

Genre: Newspaper article

Summary Overview

Lucian Truscott’s account of the Stonewall Riots of 1969 appeared in The Village Voice, the first so-called “alternative weekly” newspaper in the United States. The story was more than a mere reporting of the events. Truscott presented the story in detail using colloquial language, some of which would be considered highly inappropriate today, actually triggered a subsequent protest, this time directed at the the offices of The Village Voice itself. He transcribed the chants of the crowed, followed the story to police stations and ensured that the language of power—in this case gay power—was given a prominent place in the narrative, highlighting the link to the wider civil rights movements of the late 1960s.

Truscott’s recounting of the events of the Stonewall Riots brought the conflict—and the burgeoning gay rights movement—out of the subcultural shadows in which it had previously existed. While his writing in The Village Voice was initially directed at the urban, New York audience, his coverage spread throughout the country and world, demonstrating that the “rights revolution” of the time was not limited to racial or gender lines and became one of the definitive contemporary accounts of the event.

Defining Moment

Greenwich Village in Manhattan, where the Stonewall Inn was located, had been a haven for New York City’s gay and lesbian population following the end of World War I in 1918. During the 1950s, a time when media and government forces promoted social and cultural conformity—particularly in regard to matters of sexuality and gender—Greenwich Village became one of he centers of subcultural resistance. Writers and poets such as the Beat movement’s Allen Ginsburg and William S. Burroughs lived in the Village and wrote opening and, often, graphically about homosexuality. This cultural heyday, however, faded in the early 1960s as police and political forces desired to “clean up” the city. Gay bars faced bureaucratic hurdles (such as liquor licenses being revoked) and their patrons were the targets of entrapment operations by police. The result of these operations was that homosexuals faced increasing discrimination.

The owners of the Stonewall Inn, members of the Genovese crime family, reinvented it as a gay bar in 1966. Thanks to bribery of local police, the Stonewall operated without a liquor license or concern for health code compliance. On June 28, 1969, however, a police raid occurred—possibly ordered by the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. The raid quickly became chaotic and when some patrons refused to identify themselves or otherwise comply with instructions, police made the decision to transport everyone present to the police station. As the crowd of over one hundred waited for the police wagons to arrive, the patrons as well as others in the area began to loudly protest police actions. The crowd witnessed a police officer strike a woman with a baton leading to violence between police and protesters. Truscott’s coverage in The Village Voice described the scene outside the Stonewall Inn while another story, by Voice writer Howard Smith described police actions inside the Inn during the raid.

Author Biography

Lucian Truscott IV was born in Japan on April 11, 1947, where his father was stationed with the US Army. Not only Truscott’s father, but also his Grandfather had held high ranks in the military, serving in World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. Truscott himself graduated from the US Military Academy at Westpoint in 1969. While at the Military Academy and during his short career as an Army officer, Truscott challenged the prevailing military culture and its traditions. As a cadet, he (along with several compatriots) protested rules about mandatory chapel attendance. As a young officer at Fort Carson, Colorado, he wrote articles about heroin addiction among soldiers and what he considered to be unjust court martial proceedings. When informed that he might be sent to Vietnam, he resigned from the Army, accepting a “general discharge under other than honorable conditions.”

Truscott’s career in journalism put him at the heart of cultural changes in America in the late 1960s and 1970s and he often wrote on topics often related to aspects of the countercultural scene in New York City. Just weeks after graduating from West Point, he wrote this July 3, 1969 account of the June 28 police raid and subsequent riot at the Stonewall Inn, which referred to the protestors in derogatory terms, led—in September—to more unrest directed at the offices of The Village Voice.

Truscott would remain active in journalism as well as become a successful novelist.

Historical Document

Sheridan Square this weekend looked like something from a William Burroughs novel as the sudden specter of “gay power” erected its brazen head and spat out a fairy tale the likes of which the area has never seen.

The forces of faggotry, spurred by a Friday night raid on one of the city’s largest, most popular, and longest lived gay bars, the Stonewall Inn, rallied Saturday night in an unprecedented protest against the raid and continued Sunday night to assert presence, possibility, and pride until the early hours of Monday morning. “I’m a faggot, and I’m proud of it!” “Gay power!” “I like boys!”—these and many other slogans were heard all three nights as the show of force by the city’s finery met the force of the city’s finest. The result was a kind of liberation, as the gay brigade emerged from the bars, back rooms, and bedrooms of the Village and became street people.

Cops entered the Stonewall for the second time in a week just before midnight on Friday. It began as a small raid—only two patrolmen, two detectives, and two policewomen were involved. But as the patrons trapped inside were released one by one, a crowd started to gather on the street. It was initially a festive gathering, composed mostly of Stonewall boys who were waiting around for friends still inside or to see what was going to happen. Cheers would go up as favorites would emerge from the door, strike a pose and swish by the detective with a “Hello there, fella.” The stars were in their element. Wrists were limp, hair was primped, and reactions to the applause were classic. “I gave them the gay power bit, and they loved it, girls.” “Have you seen Maxine? Where is my wife—I told her not to go far.”

Suddenly the paddywagon arrived and the mood of the crowd changed. Three of the more blatant queens—in full drag—were loaded inside, along with the bartender and doorman, to a chorus of catcalls and boos from the crowd. A cry went up to push the paddywagon over, but it drove away before anything could happen. With its exit, the action waned momentarily. The next person to come out was a dyke, and she put up a struggle—from car to door to car again. It was at that moment that the scene became explosive. Limp wrists were forgotten. Beer cans and bottles were heaved at the windows, and a rain of coins descended on the cops. At the height of the action, a bearded figure was plucked from the crowd and dragged inside. It was Dave Van Ronk, who had come from the Lion’s Head to see what was going on. He was charged with throwing an object at the police.

Three cops were necessary to get Van Ronk away from the crowd and into the Stonewall. The exit left no cops on the street, and almost by signal the crowd erupted into cobblestone and bottle heaving. The reaction was solid: they were pissed. The trashcan I was standing on was nearly yanked out from under me as a kid tried to grab it for use in the window smashing melee. From nowhere came an uprooted parking meter—used as a battering ram on the Stonewall door. I heard several cries of “Let’s get some gas,” but the blaze of flame which soon appeared in the window of the Stonewall was still a shock. As the wood barrier behind the glass was beaten open, the cops inside turned a firehose on the crowd. Several kids took the opportunity to cavort in the spray, and their momentary glee served to stave off what was rapidly becoming a full-scale attack. By the time the fags were able to regroup forces and come up with another assault, several carloads of police reinforcements had arrived, and in minutes the streets were cleared.

A visit to the Sixth Precinct revealed the fact that 13 persons had been arrested on charges that ranged from Van Ronk’s felonious assault of a police officer to the owners’ illegal sale and storage of alcoholic beverages without a license. Two police officers had been injured in the battle with the crowd. By the time the last cop was off the street Saturday morning, a sign was going up announcing that the Stonewall would reopen that night. It did.

Protest set the tone for “gay power” activities on Saturday. The afternoon was spent boarding up the windows of the Stonewall and chalking them with signs of the new revolution: “We are Open,” “There is all college boys and girls in here,” “Support Gay Power—C’mon in, girls.” “Insp. Smyth looted our: money, jukebox, cigarette mach, telephones, safe, cash register, and the boys tips.” Among the slogans were two carefully clipped and bordered copies of the Daily News story about the previous night’s events, which was anything but kind to the gay cause.

The real action Saturday was that night in the street. Friday night’s crowd had returned and was being led in “gay power” cheers by a group of gay cheerleaders. “We are the Stonewall girls / We wear our hair in curls / We have no underwear / We show our pubic hairs!” The crowd was gathered across the street from the Stonewall and was growing with additions of onlookers, Eastsiders, and rough street people who saw a chance for a little action. Though dress had changed from Friday night’s gayery to Saturday night street clothes, the scene was a command performance for queers. If Friday night had been pick-up night, Saturday was date night. Hand-holding, kissing, and posing accented each of the cheers with a homosexual liberation that had appeared only fleetingly on the street before. One-liners were as practiced as if they had been used for years. “I just want you all to know,” quipped a platinum blond with obvious glee, “that sometimes being homosexual is a big pain in the ass.” Another allowed as how he had become a “left-deviationist.” And on and on.

The quasi-political tone of the street scene was looked upon with disdain by some, for radio news announcements about the previous night’s “gay power” chaos had brought half of Fire Island’s Cherry Grove running back to see what they had left behind. The generation gap existed even here. Older boys had strained looks on their faces and talked in concerned whispers as they watched the up-and-coming generation take being gay and flaunt it.

As the “gay power” chants on the street rose in frequency and volume, the crowd grew restless. The front of the Stonewall was losing its attraction, despite efforts by the owners to talk the crowd back into the club. “C’mon in and see what da pigs done to us,” they growled. “We’re honest businessmen here. We’re American-born boys. We run a legitimate joint here. There ain’t nuttin bein’ done wrong in the dis place. Everybody come and see.”

The people on the street were not to be coerced. “Let’s go down the street and see what’s happening, girls,” someone yelled. And down the street went the crowd, smack into the Tactical Patrol Force, who had been called earlier to disperse the crowd and were walking west on Christopher from Sixth Avenue. Formed in a line, the TPF swept the crowd back to the corner of Waverly Place where they stopped. A stagnant situation there brought on some gay tomfoolery in the form of a chorus line facing the helmeted and club-carrying cops. Just as the line got into a full kick routine, the TPF advanced again and cleared the crowd of screaming gay powerites down Christopher to Seventh Avenue. The street and park were then held from both ends, and no one was allowed to enter—naturally causing a fall-off in normal Saturday night business, even at the straight Lion’s Head and 55. The TPF positions in and around the square were held with only minor incident—one busted head and a number of scattered arrest—while the cops amused themselves by arbitrarily breaking up small groups of people up and down the avenue. The crowd finally dispersed around 3:30 A.M. The TPF had come and they had conquered, but Sunday was already there, and it was to be another story.

Sunday night was a time for watching and rapping. Gone were the “gay power” chants of Saturday, but not the new and open brand of exhibitionism. Steps, curbs, and the park provided props for what amounted to the Sunday fag follies as returning stars from the previous night’s performances stopped by to close the show for the weekend.

It was slow going. Around 1 am a non-helmeted version of the TPF arrived and made a controlled and very cool sweep of the area, getting everyone moving and out of the park. That put a damper on posing and primping, and as the last buses were leaving Jerseyward, the crowd grew thin. Allen Ginsberg and Taylor Mead walked by to see what was happening and were filled in on the previous evenings’ activities by some of the gay activists. “Gay power! Isn’t that great!” Allen said. “We’re one of the largest minorities in the country—10 per cent, you know. It’s about time we did something to express ourselves.”

Ginsberg expressed a desire to visit the Stonewall—”You know, I’ve never been in there”—and ambled on down the street, flashing peace signs and helloing the TPF. It was a relief and a kind of joy to see him on the street. He lent an extra umbrella of serenity of the scene with his laughter and quiet commentary on consciousness, “gay power” as a new movement, and the various implications of what had happened. I followed him into the Stonewall, where rock music blared from speakers all around a room that might have come right from a Hollywood set of a gay bar. He was immediately bouncing and dancing wherever he moved.

He left, and I walked east with him. Along the way, he described how things used to be. “You know, the guys there were so beautiful-they’ve lost that wounded look that fags all had 10 years ago.” It was the first time I had heard this crowd described as beautiful.

We reached Cooper Square, and as Ginsberg turned to head toward home, he waved and yelled, “Defend the fairies!” and bounced on across the square. He enjoyed the prospect of “gay power” and is probably working on a manifesto for the movement right now. Watch out. The liberation is under way.

Glossary

Allen Ginsburg: American poet usually identified with the Beat movement of the 1950s

Dave von Ronk: American folk singer

paddywagon: Armored truck used by police for mass arrests

William Burroughs: American novelist known for subversive political and sexual themes

Document Analysis

Truscott begins his account of the Stonewall Riot by comparing it to a scene from the pen of Beat writer William Burroughs. From the outset, the phrase “gay power” is prominent, although Truscott ominously characterizes the notion as a “specter.” He starts the next paragraph with one of the phrases that would, later, incite anger from those who had been involved in the protest: “forces of faggotry.” This would not be the only epithet used by Truscott. While some of the derogatory terms he uses are quotations from participants in the event, others (like “forces of faggotry,” “dyke,” and “fags,”) were his own. While recounting the events in a manner that is, in general, sympathetic to the cause of equal treatment and gay rights, Truscott does so while parroting the language of oppression. Truscott closes the second paragraph by explaining that the movement was larger than the one by the patrons of the bar itself, as participants “emerged from the bars, back rooms, and bedrooms of the Village and became street people.”

Truscott then moves to the detailed account of the incident at the Stonewall Inn, describing the manner in which a crowd gathered in the street outside the Stonewall during the police raid. Using several quotations from the crowd, Truscott attempts to convey the sense that this was, at first “a festive gathering” of those who were regulars at the Stonewall and their friends. Things changed, however, when the police arrived. Truscott describes the darkening mood of the crowd as patrons and employees were hustled into the police vans. The crowd attempts to push over the van but were unsuccessful. As a woman is brought out from the bar, the crowd sees her struck by a police baton as she struggles. At this point, Truscott relates, “Beer cans and bottles were heaved at the windows, and a rain of coins descended on the cops.” The crowd tried to beat down the door and set a fire using some nearby gasoline while the police responded by turning a firehose on the crowd. As additional police arrived, a total of thirteen were arrested.

Protests continued the next night. In describing the scene on Saturday, Truscott highlights the manner in which the protesters opening displayed their sexuality in a way that had not previously been done. “Hand-holding, kissing, and posing,” he wrote, “accented each of the cheers with a homosexual liberation that had appeared only fleetingly on the street before.” Despite the misgivings of “older boys,” the younger generation was determined to make a statement, to “ take being gay and flaunt it.”

Truscott then describes the way that the crowd began to move down Christopher Street, colliding with the New York Police Department’s “Tactical Patrol Force.” This led to a series of movements by police and protesters as the authorities attempted to control the size and movements of the crowd. While there were few injuries. Protests continued on Sunday night but, as Truscott describes, “was a time for watching and rapping.” While the “gay power” rhetoric of the previous night was absent, the flamboyant displays by the protesters continued until the police broke up the last groups of protesters.

Truscott concluded his report by describing the reaction of Beat poet and Greenwich Village resident Allen Ginsberg. Ginsberg—who, in the 1950s, had been prosecuted on obscenity charges for the vivid homosexual imagery in his poem “Howl”—expressed support for the notion of “gay power.” Describing the gay community as “one of the largest minorities in the country,” he argues that the time is right for the movement to “express” itself. After describing his brief encounter with the poet, Truscott concludes by predicting that “the liberation is under way.”

Essential Themes

In a fairly subtle way, Lucian Truscott’s account of the several days of rioting and protesting at the Stonewall Inn highlights two important ways in which the emerging gay power movement was developing in a similar direction as other civil rights efforts in the United States. The first was that one of the crucial ways that the protesters expressed themselves was by flaunting their sexuality in a display that Truscott described as “quasi-political.” The use of “quasi-“ gives the impression of diminishing the very real political statement that was being made. The exaggerated sexual display was a political act—a more overt continuation of the actions of those who, the night before had “emerged from the bars, back rooms, and bedrooms.” Much like the Black Power movement emphasized the unique position and contributions of African American culture, the events at Stonewall created an opening for a fuller and more public expression of gay life and culture.

The second important factor that Truscott describes is the “generation gap.” highlighted by the actions of the crowd. Older gay activists in New York—such as those who belonged to the Mattachine Society—felt that the actions of the protesters were too confrontational and might undo some of the work they had done during the 1950s and 1960s. This is not too different from the generational split that developed in the African American civil rights movement or the women’s rights movement during the same era.

Bibliography and Additional Reading

1 

Carter, David. Stonewall: The Riots that Sparked the Gay Revolution, (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2004).

2 

Duberman, Martin. Stonewall (New York: Penguin Books, 1993).

3 

Edsall, Nicholas. Toward Stonewall: Homosexuality and Society in the Modern Western World (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2003).

4 

Williams, Walter and Retter, Yolanda, eds. Gay and Lesbian Rights in the United States: A Documentary History (Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 2003).

Citation Types

MLA 9th
Gulyas, Aaron. "Gay Power Comes To Sheridan Square." Defining Documents in American History: Dissent and Protest, edited by Aaron Gulyas, Salem Press, 2017. Salem Online, online.salempress.com/articleDetails.do?articleName=DDProtest_0096.
APA 7th
Gulyas, A. (2017). Gay Power Comes To Sheridan Square. In A. Gulyas (Ed.), Defining Documents in American History: Dissent and Protest. Salem Press. online.salempress.com.
CMOS 17th
Gulyas, Aaron. "Gay Power Comes To Sheridan Square." Edited by Aaron Gulyas. Defining Documents in American History: Dissent and Protest. Hackensack: Salem Press, 2017. Accessed May 30, 2026. online.salempress.com.