American History Tellers - History Daily: The Lonesome Cowboys Raid
Episode Date: August 5, 2024August 5, 1969. Police in Atlanta, Georgia raid a screening of Andy Warhol’s underground film Lonesome Cowboys, triggering a wave of protests that sparks the gay rights movement in the Deep... South. This episode originally aired in 2022.You can listen ad-free in the Wondery or Amazon Music app. Or for all that and more, go to www.IntoHistory.com.History Daily is a co-production of Airship and Noiser.Go to HistoryDaily.com for more history, daily.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Transcript
Discussion (0)
It's approaching midnight on August 5th, 1969 in Atlanta, Georgia.
Inside a movie theater in the Ansley Mall shopping center, a young woman named Abby Drew settles down in her seat.
Abby has come to watch a screening of the movie Lonesome Cowboys, the Western parody directed by the visual artist Andy Warhol.
Due to its homoerotic content, Lonesome Cowboys is being shown secretively and after hours.
Most of the audience tonight are members of the queer community.
Homosexuality is still considered a criminal offense in much of the United States.
So these people are accustomed to hiding their true identities in public.
But tonight, inside this theater, is one of the rare occasions they can be themselves. the United States. So these people are accustomed to hiding their true identities in public.
But tonight, inside this theater, is one of the rare occasions they can be themselves.
Excited whispers ripple through the theaters as the lights go down, and the whir of the projector starts up. Abby grabs a fistful of popcorn and eats it hungrily, her face
illuminated by the blue-tinted glow of the cinema screen. She and the entire audience are transfixed, completely absorbed,
until a piercing whistle shatters the illusion.
The theater's doors fly open, and a squadron of police officers storm into the room.
Abby whips her head around in panic, but she is blinded by the beam of a cop's flashlight.
She hears one of her friends cry out, We're being raideded by the beam of a cop's flashlight. She hears one of
her friends cry out, we're being raided, and her heart starts to pound furiously. She thinks about
running, but it's no use. The police have them cornered. Along with 70 other audience members,
the cops march Abby and her friends outside. Abby flinches as an officer pushes her hard against the wall.
He demands to see I.D.
Abby hands it over, scowling with rage.
After checking her driver's license,
the cop lifts up a camera and takes Abby's photograph.
Abby knows the photograph will likely appear in tomorrow's newspaper,
alongside her name and a description of the so-called crime she's guilty of,
merely being a lesbian. It will likely cost her her job. Abby watches, simmering with fury,
as the officers escort the theater's owner and projectionist in handcuffs to a squad car.
They're shoved inside, doors closed, and then the car speeds away into the Georgia night.
Six weeks before police raided this movie theater in Atlanta,
a similar event took place in New York City.
There, in a bar called the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village,
a routine police raid sparked full-blown riots
as gay people stood up for themselves against the police.
Those riots would eventually change the face of LGBTQ plus rights in America. But at the time,
the impact of Stonewall was only felt in New York. In the Deep South, very little changed.
The gay rights movement there needed a spark of its own. And that spark came
when the Ansley Mall movie Theater in Atlanta was rated on August
5th, 1969. You're listening ad-free on Wondery Plus. Now streaming. Welcome to Buy It Now,
where aspiring entrepreneurs get 90 seconds to pitch to an audience of potential customers.
If the audience liked the product, it gets them in front of our panel of experts. Gwyneth Paltrow.
Anthony Anderson.
Tabitha Brown.
Tony Hawk.
Oh, my God.
Buy it now.
Stream free on Freeview and Prime Video.
From Noiser and Airship, I'm Lindsey Graham,
and this is History Daily.
History is made every day.
On this podcast, every day, we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.
Today is August 5th, 1969.
The Lonesome Cowboys Raid.
It's February 9th, 1950, inside a conference room in Wheeling, West Virginia,
19 years before the Atlanta Raid.
A United States Senator named Joseph McCarthy stands to address the Wheeling Republicans Women's Club.
Today's event has been organized in honor of the upcoming anniversary of Abraham Lincoln's
birthday.
McCarthy is supposed to be speaking about Lincoln's life and legacy, but he has other
ideas.
McCarthy has prepared a speech he hopes will advance his own dwindling career.
Since his election to the Senate in 1947,
political life has been disappointing for Joseph McCarthy,
and is afraid he'll spend his career giving inconsequential speeches
in inconsequential towns like Wheeling.
McCarthy knows that if people are ever going to listen to him,
he needs to make a bold statement, something that will cause a splash.
So today, McCarthy clears his
throat and begins his speech. He launches into a diatribe about the Cold War between America and
the Soviet Union. McCarthy's dark eyes blaze with feeling as he describes the state of the world as
he sees it, declaring, we are engaged in a final all-out battle between communistic atheism and
Christianity. Above all, McCarthy insists
the Cold War is a moral struggle between good and evil. And those evil forces are not merely
confined to the Soviet Union. They can be found right here in America. McCarthy claims the U.S.
government is crawling with traitors, or as he calls them, enemies from within. McCarthy produces a piece of paper and holds it aloft.
He alleges it's a list of 205 names of known communists
working in the U.S. State Department.
In truth, there is no list of names on the paper.
But as he watches the shocked faces of his audience,
McCarthy is confident that America will finally pay attention to him.
And sure enough, word of McCarthy's speech spreads
like wildfire. The media takes an immediate interest and soon newspapers across the country
are publishing reports about McCarthy's allegations. McCarthy doesn't provide any
evidence to substantiate his claims, but his stories of communists and the government
help spark a moral and political panic across the United States.
Eleven days later, McCarthy addresses the U.S. Senate. Puffed up on self-righteousness,
he lambasts previous administrations for allowing so many communists to infiltrate the government.
A palpable sense of discomfort hangs over the Senate floor. Many senators doubt the legitimacy of McCarthy's claims, but nobody is willing to speak out for fear of being accused themselves.
Then McCarthy starts speaking about other security risks in government.
One group in particular comes under attack, the queer community.
McCarthy states that this community is mentally twisted and morally weak
and is therefore more susceptible to communist ideology.
He goes on to cite two anonymous cases in which the government knowingly employed gay men.
Hostile murmurs ripple through the room.
In 1950, homophobia is deeply embedded within American politics.
During the 1930s and 40s, President Franklin D. Roosevelt introduced a wave of federally
funded programs to combat the Great Depression. This so-called New Deal crafted a raft of new government jobs in Washington
and flooded the Capitol with young men and women of different identities and sexualities.
During World War II, official attitudes toward homosexuality were slightly more tolerant
because it was considered more important to concentrate on winning the war.
But after the war ended, things changed.
In the new Cold War with the Soviet Union,
many Americans consider it vitally important to be morally superior
to their godless communist enemies.
And this has led to a crackdown against people deemed perverse by the mainstream.
The demonization of the queer community was codified in 1948
by the sexual psychopath law,
which criminalized homosexuality and framed it as a mental disorder.
Following the law's passing, the State Department ramped up its efforts
to identify members of the queer community in government jobs and dismiss them.
By 1950, nearly 100 government employees had been fired because of their sexual orientation.
But these dismissals were kept quiet
for fear of a public backlash. After McCarthy's speech, though, many in the government feel
emboldened to take action against the queer community, loudly and out in the open.
Members of Congress launched an investigation, and a report is issued entitled Employment of
Homosexuals and Other Sex Perverts in Government.
The investigation finds that close to 5,000 gay and lesbian people have been identified in the military
and federal workforces over the past three years, and all were fired.
This purge of gay people from the government will later become known as the Lavender Scare.
But for those who contributed to this wave of intolerance, their campaign will soon backfire. As thousands lose their jobs, some refuse to accept the
injustice lying down and begin a resistance. During the 1950s, the first gay rights organizations
spring up in the United States, groups like the Mattachine Society and the Daughters of Bellatis.
This atmosphere of resistance will eventually lead to a violent clash between police and activists in New York City,
triggering the birth of a new movement.
How did Birkenstocks go from a German cobbler's passion project 250 years ago to the Barbie movie
today? Who created that bottle of red sriracha with a green top that's permanently living in your fridge?
Did you know that the Air Jordans
were initially banned by the NBA?
We'll explore all that and more in The Best Idea Yet,
a brand new podcast from Wondery and T-Boy.
This is Nick.
This is Jack.
And we've covered over a thousand episodes
of pop business news stories on our daily podcast.
We've identified the most viral products of all time.
And they're wild origin stories that you had no idea about.
From the Levi's 501 jeans to Legos.
Come for the products you're obsessed with.
Stay for the business insights that are going to blow up your group chat.
Jack, Nintendo, Super Mario Brothers, best-selling video game of all time.
How'd they do it?
Nintendo never fires anyone.
Ever.
Follow The Best idea yet on the
wondery app or wherever you get your podcast you can listen to the best idea yet early and
ad free right now by joining wondery plus in a quiet suburb a community is shattered by the
death of a beloved wife and mother but this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even
darker her husband had tried to hire a hitman
on the dark web to kill her. And she wasn't the only target. Because buried in the depths of the
internet is The Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses,
and specific instructions for people's murders. This podcast is the true story
of how I ended up in a race against time
to warn those whose lives were in danger.
And it turns out, convincing a total stranger
someone wants them dead is not easy.
Follow Kill List on the Wondery app
or wherever you get your podcasts.
You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C
true crime shows like Morbid
early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus.
Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening.
It's June 27th, 1969 in New York City, six weeks before the Lonesome Cowboys raid.
On an unseasonably hot Friday night, an 18-year-old boy named Mark Siegel strolls down Christopher Street in Greenwich Village.
Mark recently moved to New York from Philadelphia.
As a gay man growing up during a time of intolerance, it was a revelation for Mark to find a place like Greenwich Village.
The village, as it's known, is a progressive enclave and the epicenter of hippie culture
in America. Mark quickly found a community of like-minded young people, and it seemed a million
miles from his conservative upbringing in Pennsylvania. Still, life is far from easy
for Mark. He's currently living on the streets, relying on the kindness of strangers for food
and occasionally shelter.
But tonight, Mark is buoyed by the prospect of having a good time.
He's meeting up with friends and going dancing at a popular gay bar, the Stonewall Inn.
Mark crosses the street, joining his friends who wait outside the door of the bar,
while the bouncer looks them up and down through a secret peephole.
Once it's been established that they aren't undercover cops,
the door swings open and Mark and his friends step inside the music and smoke-filled bar. up and down through a secret peephole. Once it's been established that they aren't undercover cops,
the door swings open and Mark and his friends step inside the music and smoke-filled bar.
Mark is well acquainted with this routine. In 1969, homosexuality is still criminalized in every U.S. state except Illinois. For this reason, bars like the Stonewall would be closed down if
they were seen to be catering to gays and lesbians. Earlier in the 1960s, when authorities started cracking down on gay bars across the city,
organized crime groups seized the opportunity. In 1966, the mafia took over the management of
the Stonewall, charging extortionate prices for watered-down drinks and using a portion of the
profits to pay off the police. Despite these bribes, though, police raids are still a regular occurrence.
Once a month, the authorities forcibly close down the Stonewall,
only allowing the establishment to reopen once they've received a substantial kickback.
But tonight, as Mark wends his way across the crowded dance floor,
he isn't thinking about the danger of a raid.
He loves coming to the Stonewall.
For him and many others, the Stonewall is a precious sanctuary, a place of self-expression in a world that forbids
him from being himself. So Mark orders a drink at a bar and joins his friends beneath pulsing,
flashing lights, ready to enjoy one night of being himself. But a few hours later, at about 1.20 a.m., Mark hears a loud crash.
He turns around in time to see eight people striding through the bar's double doors.
Mark can tell from their drab clothes and stony faces that these aren't ordinary patrons.
They're cops.
Mark tugs his friend's sleeve to warn him, but it isn't necessary.
A second later, the music stops and the lights come up.
One of the officers shouts,
Police! We're taking the place.
The revelers are forced to show their IDs before filing out onto the street.
At first, the atmosphere is lighthearted.
This is, after all, a common occurrence.
Mark and his friends hang around on the sidewalk, laughing and joking with the other
patrons. But the mood changes. Some of the officers start behaving aggressively, violently
shoving people onto the street. When one cop manhandles a drag queen, she strikes the officer
with her handbag. A few onlookers laugh, but it's clear the scene is on the verge of turning ugly.
Mark notices it too, how the crowd outside has swelled to several hundred people.
Realizing they're significantly outnumbered,
the police officers begin to back off, taking cover inside the bar.
It's stiflingly warm and humid.
Mark breathes in the smell of heated asphalt,
mingling with cheap perfume and spilled drinks.
Among those in the crowd, there's a sense of restless energy,
a feeling of pent-up anger rising rapidly to the surface.
The tension ratchets up when a fleet of police cars
screeches up to the curb, their sirens wailing.
Someone throws a coin at the vehicles,
and then a bottle flies, smashing against a windshield.
Soon, a barrage of garbage, bricks, and bottles rains
down on the cop cars. Somebody shouts, gay power. Someone else yells, we shall overcome.
Mark finds himself carried with the crowd as they surge forward, chanting and hurling projectiles.
Eventually, even more officers turn up, this time wearing riot gear. They disperse the crowd with batons and tear gas.
And by 4 a.m., things have finally quieted down.
But the riots are far from over.
Before leaving the scene, someone hands Mark a piece of chalk and a set of instructions.
The homeless teenager runs off down the street,
scrawling the words,
Tomorrow Night Stonewall on the sidewalk.
And over the next few nights,
gay activists will continue to protest outside the Stonewall, on the sidewalk. And over the next few nights, gay activists will continue to protest outside the Stonewall,
taking a stand against persecution and abuse.
For the first time, it seems,
LGBTQ people are fighting back against oppression
and in the process are laying the foundations
for an organized gay rights movement.
Following the Stonewall riots,
groups like the Gay Liberation Front and the Gay Activists Alliance will rise in New York.
And one year after the riots, the first ever Gay Pride Parade will pass through the city.
But while the Stonewall Riots will spark a gay liberation movement in New York,
they will have little effect on gay life elsewhere in America.
It will take another raid, just over a month later,
to spark a similar sense of outrage in the Deep South
and to inspire queer communities in the city of Atlanta
to launch a revolution of their own.
I'm Tristan Redman, and as a journalist, I've never believed in ghosts.
But when I discovered that my wife's great-grandmother
was murdered in the house next door to where I grew up, I started wondering about the inexplicable things that happened
in my childhood bedroom. When I tried to find out more, I discovered that someone who slept
in my room after me, someone I'd never met, was visited by the ghost of a faceless woman.
So I started digging into the murder in my wife's family, and I unearthed family secrets
nobody could have imagined. Ghost Story won Best Documentary
Podcast at the 2024 Ambees and is a Best True Crime nominee at the British Podcast Awards 2024.
Ghost Story is now the first ever Apple Podcast Series Essential. Each month,
Apple Podcast editors spotlight one series that has captivated listeners with masterful storytelling,
creative excellence, and a unique creative voice and vision.
To recognize Ghost Story being chosen as the first series essential,
Wondery has made it ad-free for a limited time only on Apple Podcasts.
If you haven't listened yet, head over to Apple Podcasts to hear for yourself.
Dracula, the ancient vampire who terrorizes Victorian London.
Blood and garlic, bats and crucifixes.
Even if you haven't read the book,
you think you know the story. One of the incredible things about Dracula is that not only is it this
wonderful snapshot of the 19th century, but it also has so much resonance today. The vampire
doesn't cast a reflection in a mirror. So when we look in the mirror, the only thing we see
is our own monstrous abilities.
From the host and producer of American History Tellers and History Daily comes the new podcast,
The Real History of Dracula. We'll reveal how author Bram Stoker raided ancient folklore,
exploited Victorian fears around sex, science, and religion, and how even today we remain
enthralled to his strange creatures of the night.
You can binge all episodes of The Real History of Dracula exclusively with Wondery Plus.
Join Wondery Plus and The Wondery App, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. It's August 1969, a few days after the Lonesome Cowboys raid.
A meeting is taking place inside the New Morning Cafe in Atlanta,
not far from the Emory University campus.
So many people have crammed inside this small coffee shop,
there's hardly any room to stand.
A curly-haired man wearing black sunglasses climbs
onto a chair and looks around the room, impressed by the turnout. Bill Smith is a gay rights activist.
Even though he wasn't there, Bill was outraged when he heard about the recent raid on the Ansley
Mall Theater, interrupting the screening of Lonesome Cowboys. For Bill and many other gay
people in Atlanta, this was the final straw in a long string of insults.
There's only a handful of establishments in Atlanta where LGBTQ people can feel safe,
and one of those was the Ansley Mall Theater.
So this raid felt like a gross invasion of privacy,
and the queer community of Atlanta isn't going to stand for it any longer.
But Bill is soft-spoken and thoughtful.
He isn't a rabble-rouser,
and he struggles to be heard over the excited chatter in the cafe. But eventually, the room
falls quiet, as Bill proposes forming a new organization to trumpet the cause of gay rights
and to provide a support system for anyone who feels persecuted for their sexuality.
The audience claps and stamps with approval. And with that, the Georgia Gay Liberation
Front, or GGLF, is born. Over the course of the next few months, the GGLF gets to work,
registering queer voters across the state and protesting Georgia's anti-sodomy law.
The following year, 125 people show up for Atlanta's first Pride March, making it one of the earliest mass movements of LGBTQ plus people in the American South.
The Atlanta March becomes a model, an inspiration for others,
and soon the queer community in the South becomes more visible and more vocal than ever before.
In 2010, a public art installation dedicated to the city's LGBTQ community
ended with a screening of Lonesome
Cowboys at Ansley Square, where the Mall Theater once stood, a memorial to the heroic efforts of
those who were galvanized to fight for their rights following the Lonesome Cowboys raid on
August 5, 1969. Next on History Daily, August 6, 1991,
British computer programmer Tim Berners-Lee creates a digital information revolution
when he launches the world's very first website.
From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily. Hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsey Graham. Thank you. and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.