Sunday, October 18, 2026

Brit Lesbians Seized the Opportunity to Create a New Culture

 



What does it mean when vast and profound change does not come from the actions of a few heroic individuals, but from organic cultural shift made possible by seizing war-time opportunities by collective effort?

The following is a reading used the Sunday at Tree of Life UU Congregation for a By the Numbers service led by Kristal Larson, the Executive Director of the LGBTQ+ Center Lake County.  "this sermon continues an exploration the queer journey after coming out using the Book of Numbers as a guide. The discussion begins by centering the unique challenges of being openly queer. It explores the need for finding safety and security in close community and among allies."  Tree of Life worships in the shared space of Ridgefield/Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church, 8505 Church Street in Ridgefield at 10 am.

Lesbianism was never illegal in Britain. When Parliament criminalized sex between men in 1885, Queen Victoria reportedly refused to believe women did any such thing, and the clause was quietly dropped.
That legal gap didn't make life easy, but it did mean the military couldn't court-martial them for existing so during World War II, tens of thousands of lesbians took full advantage of that loophole.
The Women's Auxiliary Air Force, known as the WAAF, peaked at 181,000 members in 1943. The Women's Royal Naval Service, the Wrens, reached 75,000 at their height in 1944. Both services pulled women from across Britain and put them in barracks together, gave them meaningful work, and sent them far from the surveillance of family and small-town life for the first time. For many queer women it was the first time they had ever met others like themselves.
The official position in both services was that lesbianism was a psychological defect, a form of arrested development traced back to the assumed passions of girls' boarding schools. Dame Katherine Trefusis Forbes, the first director of the WAAF, called lesbian women "misfits." But the war needed bodies, and both services needed to retain skilled personnel desperately enough that the official position and the actual practice diverged significantly.
Emma Vickers, whose 2013 book Queen and Country found that senior officials generally looked the other way provided women were discreet. The unwritten rule was that sufficient evidence was required to act, and sufficient evidence was surprisingly difficult to establish when everyone around decided not to look.
Women found ways to arrange their lives accordingly. Oral histories held at the Imperial War Museum document lesbian couples who managed to get posted to the same stations together, over and over, as they moved through the war. .
Off base, pubs and certain clubs in London and other cities functioned as informal gathering points where queer servicewomen could find each other without anyone having to explain anything directly. The Union Jack Club in London was documented as one such haven. Women learned to read the room, to recognize the signs, to know which table to sit at and which questions not to ask directly. It was a social infrastructure built entirely out of discretion, proximity, and the particular freedoms that wartime dislocation accidentally provided.
When the war ended, many of those women went home. Some went back into the closet. Some didn't. The communities they'd built in barracks and pubs and postings didn't disappear entirely; they fed into the small, largely invisible lesbian bar culture that survived in British cities through the 1950s and 1960s, largely unnoticed by a society that still officially didn't believe any of it was happening.

Tip-O'the-Hat to Queer historian Bill Browning.


Saturday, October 17, 2026

Sixty Years Ago the 23rd Street Fire was FDNY’s Worst Day Until 9/11

 

The body of one of 12 FDNY firefighters killed is removed through the 23rd street drugstore entrance of the deadly fire. 

Sixty years ago, on October 17, 1966, members of New York Fire Department (FDNY) responded to a roaring blaze in the Flatiron District.  Twelve of them didn’t get out alive.  In the annals of the Department the 23rd Street Fire was the deadliest day until the World Trade Center Towers collapsed on September 11, 2001.

The fire was first reported at 9:36 pm at the American Art Galleries in a four-story brownstone at 7 East 22nd Street.  When the firefighters first pulled up the intensity of the smoke and heat made it impossible to enter through the 22nd Street side of the building.  Instead, they attacked the conflagration through Wonder Drug located at 6 East 23rd Street which backed up on the art store. 

What they did not know was the gallery, which also dealt in art supplies had removed a load-bearing wall in its basement to expand its storage area to 35 feet underneath the drug store.  Highly flammable lacquer, paint, and finished wood frames were stored in the basement.   The fire likely originated in there although a cause was never determined.


A diagram shows how the removal of a load-bearing basement wall to expand the art store storage led to the collapse of the drugstore floor above.

Several firefighters, mostly from Engine Company 18 and Ladder Company 7 led by two chiefs and Lieutenants from each company were battling intense flames on the first floor of the drug store when the floor suddenly collapsed under them.  Ten plunged into basement and two who clung to the floor were killed in a flash-over fire.  Twelve men perished almost immediately.

Later investigation showed that the fire in the basement was roaring for more than an hour charring and weakening the wood floor beams which reduced their size and strength.  A 15-by-35-foot section of the floor collapsed at 10:39 pm, one hour and three minutes after the initial alarm was transmitted. 

As firefighters battled the blaze and attempted to rescue their comrades, it became a five-alarm box fire with scores of trucks and crews responding.  It still took 14 hours to retrieve the remains.


Killed were:

    Deputy Chief Thomas A. Reilly, FDNY 3rd Division

    Battalion Chief Walter J. Higgins, FDNY 7th Battalion

    Lt. John J. Finley, FDNY Ladder Co. 7

    Lt. Joseph Priore, FDNY Engine Co. 18

    Firefighter John G. Berry, FDNY Ladder Co. 7

    Firefighter James V. Galanaugh, FDNY Engine Co. 18

    Firefighter Rudolph F. Kaminsky, FDNY Ladder Co. 7

    Firefighter Joseph Kelly, FDNY Engine Co. 18

    Firefighter Carl Lee, FDNY Ladder Co. 7

    Firefighter William F. McCarron, FDNY 3rd Division

    Firefighter Daniel L. Rey, FDNY Engine Co. 18

    Firefighter Bernard A. Tepper, FDNY Engine Co. 18

The dead reflected the make-up of the Department—three of the officers and four of the firefighters were ethnic Irish.  One Lieutenant was Italian and one fireman Polish.  Three of the youngest, including one still on probation, were Black who were just being brought into the fire service to significant resistance under political pressure and a Federal discrimination suit.  Perhaps in death they finally achieved full acceptance.


Fire trucks carried the bodies of ten of the dead down 5th Avenue to packed funeral services.  The public lined the street and 10,000 firefighters from all over the country honored the victims.

10,000 firefighters lined Fifth Avenue on October 21, 1966, as ten firetrucks carried ten coffins to separate services at St. Thomas Protestant Episcopal Church and at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  Firefighters came from as far away as the United Kingdom, Anchorage, Los Angeles and San Francisco, the Northeast United States, and a group of 500 firefighters from Boston.

Regular annual commemorations are still held at the firehouses of the victims and sometimes at the fire site which is marked with a commemorative plaque.  Members of their families are joined by current firefighters, none of whom after all these years now personally remember the dead. 


Friday, October 16, 2026

Walking the Walk and Compassion for Campers Update for October 16 2026

Look for new opportunities for action, education, community, and solidarity in and around McHenry County here every week.  

Walking the Walk



The nation-wide coalition behind some of the biggest and widest spread protests of the Resistance is back with  No Kings--Vote Early on Saturday, October 17.  "No Kings: Vote Early is the next step of reclaiming our power after a year of mass mobilizations. It's a day of nonpartisan voter participation, being in community with each other, and making sure every eligible voter has a plan, knows their options, and is ready to make their voice count." Resources to make a voting plan are found a Resource Guide & Community Response For No Kings Day — No Kings.  At least three McHenry County events are scheduled.  Indivisible McHenry County will return to Ill. Route 31 & McCullom Lake Road in McHenry, from 11 am to 1 pm.  Indivisible Crystal Lake will line the north side of the Northwest Highway (US 14) between Pingree Grove and Main Streets in Crystal Lake from Noon to 1:30. Another event will be held earlier that morning on the Fox River Bridge at Algonquin Road & South Harrison Street in Algonquin from 9 to 10:30 am.



The Environmental Defenders of McHenry County Repair Fair need volunteers.  "If you can fix lamps, small appliances, jewelry, cell phones, and laptops, email Waste Reduction member Ashley at alange090@gmail.com" or scan the QR code on the flyer.  The event will be held at McHenry County College.



Compassion for Campers


Great News!  Thanks to our partners at harm reduction program Live4Lali, Compassion for Campers will be able to resume serving the unhoused and housing insecure in McHenry County this Friday, October 16 from 10 am to Noon at their offices at 665 W. Jackson Unit C2 in Woodstock.  We will be able to use the space until at least the end of 2026 or until a search to find a new location for the whole McHenry County Resource Center program to find a new location.  The space is small and a very limited number of supporting agencies and groups will be able to be on hand Fridays starting October 9. Hot lunch and services like showers, laundry, and haircuts will not be available.  C4C resume our distributions on the First and Third Fridays of the month.

Meanwhile, Financial support remains critical to fulfilling our mission. The best thing you can do is offer your critically needed financial support. Money donations are always welcome at     https://tinyurl.com/3bz96axe.   Look for updates here.  Email compassionforcampers@treeoflifeuu.org .


As an Epic Migration is Threatened Beloved Monarchs Face Extinction—Murfin Verse

 

Monarch butterflies in migration.

For those of us who grew up in North America, the Monarch was the most recognizable of all butterflies.  Large and brilliantly marked with a rich orange/gold and black pattern they could be seen by the millions twice a year in their migrations between Canada and a single Mexican forest region.  Their metamorphosis from a milkweed munching caterpillar spinning a cocoon to emergence as a regal flyer was a staple of grade school science curricula.  But all of that is under a dire threat as populations collapse with the rapid alterations in their critical Mexican nesting grounds due to global climate change and threats to their essential milkweed due to dramatic all along their long migration routes. 

All monarch butterflies east of the Rocky Mountains migrate in various corridors from Canada and the northern U.S.  to a single wintering site and breeding ground in Mexico.  Those in the West return to a strip of coastal California which is threatened by long-term severe drought, soaring temperatures, and habitat destroying development and wildfires.

More than ten years ago a report on the Canadian Broadcasting System (CBC) explained:

 

Monarch butterflies appear headed for a perhaps unprecedented population crash, according to scientists and monarch watchers who have been keeping tabs on the species in their main summer home in Eastern and Central North America.

There had been hope that on their journey north from their overwintering zone in Mexico, the insect’s numbers would build through the generations, but there’s no indication that happened. Only a small number of monarchs did make it to Canada this summer to propagate the generation that has now begun its southern migration to Mexico, and early indications are that the past year's record lows will be followed by even lower numbers this fall. Elizabeth Howard, the director and founder of Journey North, a citizen-scientist effort that tracks the migrations of monarchs and other species, says one indicator for the robustness of the monarchs is the number of roosts they form in late August and September, something Journey North monitors throughout the migration periods. “During migration, monarchs form overnight roosts in places like Point Pelee or Long Point [in southern Ontario], where the monarchs are congregating before crossing the Great Lakes, places where people generally see huge overnight clusters of monarchs gathering.” Howard told CBC News that at this time in 2011, Journey North had already received 55 reports of roosts, followed by just 25 in 2012. This year, only 17 reports of roosts came in. “This is really a proxy for peak migration because this is where people see really large numbers of monarchs and we’re just not getting the reports, it’s looking pretty bad,” she says.

The monarch butterflies that are now flying south are the fourth generation of those that left the few hectares in central Mexico where millions of monarchs spend the winter.

Several years ago, while I was still working as a school custodian in Cary, Illinois, the visit of a lone Monarch on its southward migration, a pioneer, inspired a poem that was included in my 2004 Skinner House Books collection We Build Temples in the Heart and was also anthologized by Edward Searl in his compilation In Praise of Animals A Treasury of Poems, Quotations, and Readings.

Some of the science is fuzzy—a single insect does not make the whole epic journey, it takes four generations—but the sense of awe and wonder remains.  

And to think we may be the last generation to experience it…


 

Migrations

 

Later they will come,

            the legions of Canada

            on the edge of cutting cold,

            backs scraping stratus slate,

            arrayed in military majesty,

            dressed in ranks and counting cadence,

            squadron after squadron, an air armada,

            single minded in their migratory mission.

 

But now,

            when September sun lingers and

            lengthened shadows hint ferocity to come,

            the first glints of gold and black flit

            with seaming aimlessness,

            pushed here and there by the faintest zephyr,

            the pioneers of a nation,

            descended from Alberta prairies

            and Minnesota Lakes.

 

One will linger

            briefly on my shoulder

            if I am blessed, then be off again.

 

Then, if she is lucky

            she will pause to rest with

            the millions along the bend of the Rio Grande

            before finding a winter’s respite of death

            amid deep Mexican forests.

 

And it will turn again next spring—

egg to larva,

            larva to silken slumber

                        pupa to Monarch

                                    Monarch to migration.

 

            Oh ye proud Canada,

                        mute your boastful blare—

the mighty bow before true courage.

 

—Patrick Murfin


Thursday, October 15, 2026

Apache Chief Victorio Finally Ran out of Time in Mexico

                     

The Apache war chief known as Victorio went by many names.  The one we remember him by was given to him by his most hated enemies--the Mexicans.  He probably never used it for himself.

The Apache leader Victorio may not be as well-known as his contemporaries Cochise and Geronimo, largely because when he conducted his most famous campaigns against the U.S. and Mexican Armies in sparsely populated and inhospitable regions on both sides of the border while the attention of the nation was riveted on the larger wars with the Sioux, Cheyenne, and other tribes on the Northern Plains.  But he was a wily and dangerous warrior who ran circles around the troops that pursued him for years.  Until fate caught up with him.

Victorio’s origins are murky, and what we know or think we know is based on sometimes conflicting oral accounts from various Apache bands.  His tribal name was Bidu-ya or Beduiat.  Victorio was a name given him by his hated Mexican enemies.  Most sources say he was born around 1825 in the rugged mountains of what was then the Mexican state of Nuevo Mexico.  Other sources claim he was born as early as 1809.


                                    Victorio's fierce sister, a warrior in her own right.  He called her "The Shield of the People."  She died of Tuberculosis as a prisoner.

Even his tribal affiliations, which shifted with kinship relations and various bands merging and diverging over time, are confused.  He was most likely born a member of the Chihenne sometimes called the Mimbreño division of the central Apaches, which had kinship relations with the Navaho who gave him yet another name which translates as Man Who Checks His Horses.  He had a sister or half-sister named Lozen or Dexterous Horse Thief who was born about 1840 and became a female warrior, seer, and sorceress, and advisor to Vittorio who called her the “shield of the people.”

Some sources identified him as a Chiricahua, a division of the Apaches with which he was often allied and sometimes rode with.  This is probably due to ignorance of the complex clan, band, and tribal relations among the Apache.

By the early 1850’s Victorio was known to be traveling and fighting with the great Apache chief Mangus Coloradas in his wars against the old pueblos and new American settlements of what was by then American New Mexico Territory.  Kit Carson was one of the New Mexico militia leaders who did battle with the hostile Apache.  Among the other younger leaders in this war were Geronimo, Cochise, and Nana.  Victorio was one of Mangus Coloradas’s favorites and, apparently his son in law.

Victorio first appeared to history as one of Mangas Coloradas's war band leaders along with Cochise and Geronimo.  He may have been married to a daughter or even been an adopted son.

What Victorio’s exact role was during this time is also unclear.  The U.S. Army identified him as a chief in 1853 and Victorio put his mark on at least one official document with that designation.  But the Army was unclear on the differences between war band leaders and tribal chiefs with broader authority and responsibilities with the various bands and clans.  Victorio may or may not have been both at this time.

We do know that he became, probably by assignment from Mangus Coloradas, the leader of a large war band of mixed Chihenne and Mescaleros whose civil chief was his brother-in-law known as Caballero.

After Mangus Coloradas was captured under a flag of truce at an 1863 parlay with the Army and subsequently murdered, Victorio became acknowledged leader of the Chihenne and acted as a sub-chief to Cochise in a long guerrilla war that lasted until 1872, when Cochise surrendered and agreed to let his people be put on reservations.

Victorio followed his leader’s example.  But over the next few years he and his band were put on at least three different reservations, some more than once, despite his band’s request to live on traditional lands.  He found himself for the second time on the desolate San Carlos Reservation in Arizona, a barren desert where summer temperatures were regularly above 110̊, where there was no game, and farming was impossible.  His people were starving.  In 1879 he led his people off the reservation and headed back to his traditional territory.  


Victorio was relentlessly pursued by the 9th Cavalry, a Buffalo Soldier regiment seen here at Ft. Davis in Arizona in 1875 on dress parade with seldom worn helmets
.

He and his band were now official renegades. Victorio’s War was on.  He and his 170 followers, later modestly reinforced by volunteers from other bands fed up with reservation life, were pursued by the Buffalo Soldiers of the 9th and 10th Cavalry across broad swaths of the border lands from New Mexico to West Texas.  Victorio raided isolated ranches, attacked wagon and baggage trains and skirmished with the Army while trying to avoid big engagements.  As the war went on Victorio’s fury grew and he took to torturing and mutilating prisoners creating a fearsome reputation and spreading panic. 

On September 16 at Las Animas Canyon in the Black Range Mountains of two companies of the 9th were ambushed and trapped by Victorio's warriors. They were rescued by the arrival of two additional companies and after a day of fighting, the soldiers broke off the engagement. Five soldiers, three scouts and thirty-two horses lay dead.

Victorio would slip across the Rio Grande to elude troops and raid his traditional enemies, the Mexicans.  His band ambushed and killed 15 vaqueros looking for cattle thieves and a second party of equal size sent to look for the first near the village of Carrizal, Chihuahua.  The Mexican Army joined in the pursuit and chased Victorio back to the river.  In the beginning of rare cooperation, the Mexicans telegraphed American headquarters that they were chasing Victorio and he was expected to cross the border into Texas.

From January to May 1880 troopers from the 9th engaged in numerous skirmishes with members of Victorio’s band.  Many engagements were no more than a quick exchange of gunfire between scouts and hit-and-run ambushes.  But sometimes Victorio would pin down an isolated patrol and a fight could last hours or days until the troopers were rescued.

In April, 1880, Victorio was credited with leading the Alma Massacre, a raid on settler homesteads around Alma, New Mexico. The warriors were finally driven off with the arrival of American soldiers from Fort Bayard.  Victorio continued his campaign with a rare attack on Fort Tularosa. In May the Texas based 10th Cavalry assumed the main task of battling Victorio.  Colonel Grierson devised a new strategy—instead of fruitlessly chasing the hostiles, he positioned troops at mountain passes and river fords likely to be used by Victorio in hopes of ambushing him.

On September 6 the trap almost worked at Rattlesnake Springs, Texas where troopers hid and surrounded a freshwater spring desperately needed by Victorio’s parched band.  Although he detected a trap, Victorio was so desperate for water that he made several attempts to reach the springs and also attacked an Army baggage train on the way to supply the troops.  Each time he was beaten back and finally had to give up the effort, retreating without water and the troops in pursuit.

Three days later troopers stumbled on Victorio’s main camp. After a skirmish with guards, the troopers captured 25 head of cattle and other supplies.  On September 11 two companies made contact with Victorio’s main band and went in hard pursuit.  But the Apaches were able to get across the Rio Grande before they could be captured.

At the rare invitation of the Mexican government, 10 companies of the 10th were allowed to enter Mexico and were stationed along the south bank of the River to keep Victorio from crossing back into Texas.  Scouts from the 10th and Mexican forces located him on October 4, but kept their distance, monitoring his movements.

On October 9, the Mexican government told the US Army that their presence was no longer necessary.  The 10th re-crossed the Rio Grande under protest.  Colonel Grierson appealed to Army Commanding General Phil Sheridan in Washington for permission to return over the objection of Mexico.  Sheridan refused.


Colonel Jaoqui Terraza, the Mexican officer who hunted down Victorio's band and effectively wiped them out at the Tres Castillos Massacre.

The Mexicans, knowing that the US Army orders were to “capture if possible”, wanted a free hand in eradicating their enemy.  On October 15, 1880 Colonel Jaoquin Terraza and his troops surrounded Victorio’s camp and attacked. At the end of what became known as the Tres Castillos Massacre Victorio lay dead, with sixty warriors, and eighteen women and children. Sixty-eight women and children were taken prisoner.


Their husbands and fathers slaughtered, the women and children captured after the Tres Castillos massacre are held by the Mexicans before being turned over to the U.S. Army.  Most would die far away from home in Florida prisons.

As with so much else, exactly how Victorio died is in dispute.  Some claim an Indio scout shot him.  Others believe that the old warrior committed suicide rather than be killed by the Mexicans.

The survivors were rounded up, driven to the border, and dumped on the US Army.  They were exiled to distant reservations in Alabama, then in Florida where they were joined by Geronimo and his followers in 1888, and eventually to Oklahoma.