Stephen van Cline
Greetings to the Honolulu Choruses from the Stonewall Riot Veterans! We are very proud of your work and of the choruses, as well as the brave stand of our Hawaiian brothers and sisters in the matter of universal marriage rights. We first demanded these rights in the early '60s, and the demand was voiced loudly at the Stonewall riots.
The riots kept recurring throughout the weekend of June 27th, and that is normally interpreted as Friday (27th), Saturday (28th), and Sunday (29th) nights, each night lapsing into the early morning hours.
The first night was probably the most dramatic and the most meaningful to me, because that was the night I was directly involved. My lover and I were stunned and thrilled to see our own kind talking back, berating the cops, and throwing pennies. After seeing the gratuitous bloody beatings in front of us and being called names, we began throwing bricks and cobblestones at the bar, which suddenly became the symbol of our oppression. The second night, Saturday, which we observed from the relative safety of the Rivera Café, was more violent and chaotic with more people, including outsider agitators. The third night was reported to be less violent. I got up early Monday morning (June 30th) in my apartment, a few blocks away on 15th Street, to the sound of heavy rain. I returned to my other art gallery in the country and the rain continued through Tuesday (July 1st). Many say the rain kept people from returning to riot. It is my opinion that we were going about getting the week rolling and involved in endless discussions of the meaning of what had happened. We did not get angry again until word got around and the newspaper reports about the riots had widely circulated. Quite a few people returned on Wednesday (July 2nd). My only direct experience with activities that night was seeing bloodied people lying on the 7th Ave. sidewalk and against the buildings around the corner form the bar. There was action on Thursday night (July 3rd).
The riots occurred in the midst of a chaotic era in which people were examing their lives, searching for dignity as individuals, and demanding their rights. My lover and I had opened Portfolio Gallery on 10th Street in the next block directly behind the Stonewall two months before the riots. It was our first experience of a gay community and became a kind of gay center where news and gossip was shared. In that gallery I designed and published the first Gay Rainbow as limited edition prints, posters and very daring greetings cards with the inside caption "Gay is Good." (We also had blank rainbow cards on top of the counter for the straight customers.) A month after the riots there was a rally in Washington square and we marched over to Sheridan Square for more speeches. Technically, this was the first gay march. Gay human rights was a need whose time had come. We were weary and angry about the constant fear and harassment we had suffered for many years.
Concerning the man impaled on the police department rail, his name was Diego "Tito" Vinales, an Argentine national and a soccer player. Tito was falsely arrested at the Snake Pit bar on his first visit to a gay bar and panicked because he had an expired visa, the discovery of which could have led to his deportation. He did survive the nightmarish experience. This occurred a year after the riots, but it galvanized us in our determination. We were outraged by the stories that, while Tito was screaming and moaning, the cops were calling him a faggot and telling the firemen not to hurry because the faggot was going to die anyway. That anger pushed the rights effort forward. The rumor that he died started with a false raio report on March 8th, 1970. It was picked up by patrons of the Stud Bar and spread like wildfire.