Stunned community members tended victims of the UsStairs Lounge arson fire. |
Forty-three years ago on July 24,
1974, long before an enraged guy with
a couple of high-powered semi-automatic
weapons loosed mass death on the
patrons of an Orlando night club, 32 people, mostly gay men died gruesomely in a terrorist
arson attack on a New Orleans gay bar. There was no national show of horror
and solidarity. The President
was silent. So was the Louisiana governor, the Big
Easy’s Mayor and every single public
official in the city. No flags
were lowered to half mast. Newspapers
hardly acknowledged who the victims were or why they were gathered. Ministers refused to conduct funerals or comfort the bereaved. Some preached that the dead got no less than they deserved and that the flames that consumed them were only an introduction to eternal torture in Hell.
The event has in a generation become a nearly forgotten non-event. Even in the aftermath of Orlando, scant mention was made of what until
then was the worst terrorist assault on
gays in American history.
It was an early Sunday evening. The UpStairs Lounge which occupied the second floor of an antebellum building at 141
Chartres Street in the French Quarter was closed to regular business. The New Orleans congregation of the Metropolitan
Community Church, a LGBT friendly
Protestant denomination founded in Los
Angeles in 1968, held services
commemorating the Stonewall Uprising in
New York. Afterwards the congregation and the bar
hosted a free beer and dinner social. As many as 125 people were originally in
attendance but only 60 or so remained chatting
and listening to piano player David
Gary. Some were discussing the church’s planned
fundraiser for a hospital for crippled children.
Patrons enjoying themselves at the Lounge in this snapshot taken before the tragedy. |
Shortly before 8 pm someone buzzed the door.
Although New Orleans had a
reputation as a cosmopolitan
any-thing-goes town and there was a fairly well established gay scene in the city, it was not possible for
establishments like the UpStairs Lounge to operate
too openly. Harassment and assaults of
patrons was common. Like most of the rest of a dozen or so known
gay bars in the city, most of them like this one in run down and off-the-beaten-path
parts of the French Quarter or in warehouse
districts, operated semi-clandestinely
with little signage to attract
attention and even unmarked entrances. Here, people had to buzz
for admission at the door at bottom of the stairs. Then a bouncer
would use a speakeasy style with
a sliding panel eye level portal in
the upper door to I.D. whoever was
gaining entrance.
That evening there was no bouncer
for the semi-private gathering. Bartender Buddy Rasmussen asked patron Luther Boggs to check the door. When the down stairs door was buzzed someone
opened it, through lighter fluid on
the stairs and tossed in a match or burning rag which immediately ignited an inferno in the narrow stairwell. Boggs slid back the portal panel creating a draft that sucked the flames inside in
an almost blow torch affect.
Boggs was engulfed in the flames and
his clothes set afire. The fire
immediately ignited the lush ‘70’s era decorations which included velvet drapes, flocked wallpaper, silk
screens, table cloths, and carpets. The fire spread
in a flash through all three rooms.
The front staircase was the only
easily accessible exit. Quick thinking
bartender Rassmussen, an Air Force
veteran, gathered twenty patrons and led them to a back entrance from which
they exited to a lower extension of the building’s roof and then jumped to the roof of an adjacent building. This
would represent most of the survivors of the fire, and all of those who escaped
with no or minor injuries.
Unfortunately in the ensuing panic other patrons either did not know
about the back entrance or found it blocked by the spreading flames. Outlets to two fire escapes on the side of the building were through partially blocked windows. But those who got onto the escapes discovered
that they did not extend to the ground, they had to drop to the pavement a story
below compounding injuries from the fire.
Among these was MCC Assistant Pastor
George “Mitch” Mitchell who returned to the inferno in an effort to save
his boyfriend Louis Broussard. The bodies of the two men were later
recovered clinging to each other.
Rev. Larson's charred body was left for nearly a day wedged in the window where he died in agony. |
Some of the other windows were boarded up or barred. People tried to
squeeze out between the bars. One man
got through the bars which were 14 inches apart but fell to his death with his
clothes in flames. Reverend Bill Larson, the former Methodist lay minister who led the MCC congregation was trapped
half way out a window. His screams of
agony could be heard by the crowd
which quickly gathered on the street and sidewalk below for several
minutes. His charred and contorted body was
left uncovered in the window for more than 24 hours. Finally the lower half of his body broke off
and hit an employee of The Jimani,
the jazz club and bar that occupied the first floor of
the building when he went in to retrieve the contents of the cash register and safe.
Inside Mrs. Willie Inez Warren, the only female victim, was found alongside
her two sons, Eddie Hosea and James Curtis Warren with whom she had
attended the services and dinner. In an
era when many families rejected and disowned their gay children her loving
acceptance of hers cost her life. In fact in the wake of the fire, some
families refused to identify or accept the remains of dead family members either for fear of being publicly humiliated or because they
were already alienated. Some were never identified and at least four were buried together in a mass pauper grave.
Among the other victims were life partners Joe William Bailey and Clarence, Joseph McCloskey, Jr. who were also found together; Jefferson Parish Dentist Dr. Perry Lane
Waters, Jr. who treated many other victims and whose dental x-ray records led to the identification of some victims; George Steven (Bud) Matyi, a rising young pianist and composer who
was appearing at the nearby Marriott
Hotel and who planned to perform after house player Gary who also died; linguist Adam Roland Fontenot, the
partner of rescuer/hero Rasmussen; Leon
Richard Maples, a visitor from Florida; and several active members and
lay leaders of the MCC congregation.
Although there was a fire station only two blocks away,
firefighters were delayed in responding due
to clogged traffic on the narrow French Quarter streets and the crowds
that gathered taking up most of the block by the burning building. One truck
crashed into a taxi trying to
maneuver around traffic on a sidewalk. When they finally arrived the whole second
floor of the building was fully engaged and flames were reaching the third
floor which contained rooms sometimes used for trysts by bar patrons. None
of the rooms were in use that evening.
As firefighters turned their
hoses on the building and tried to get ladders
up to the barred windows, some in the crowd interfered with their work and chants of let the faggots die were heard.
The aftermath of the fire was almost as ugly as the disaster.
The Times-Picayunne headline the day after the fire. |
Of course a fire involving such
enormous loss of life in the busy French Quarter, then as now the center of the
city’s thriving night life and tourist trade. It was front page news for two or three days and featured on local television which carried dramatic footage. The local paper of record, the Times-Picayune carried gruesome
photos including one of Rev. Larson trapped in the window. But coverage largely omitted or minimized
mention that the club catered to gay patrons or explained the nature of the
MCC. With the exception of pro-forma statements of fire and police
officials, the city was silent on the tragedy.
The customary declaration of
mourning which had routinely
followed other fire tragedies
and major loss of life incidents was
never issued. There was a fear that publicizing the gay connection would
harm the city’s vital tourist business.
Of course in a town like New Orleans
it soon became common knowledge. Radio talk show hosts openly mocked the victims. Callers commented that they got what they deserved or expressed
regret that more had not died. The few
who dared express human sympathy
were rudely shouted down.
The reaction by most churches was worse.
Many declined to conduct funeral services for the
dead. Some barred prayer services or memorial
gathers on their property and forbad their ministers from participating
in any. Pastoral care to the bereaved
was in many cases withheld. The following Sunday many preachers took to
their pulpits to denounce the
victims and to call for a campaign to
scourge Gays from the city.
Rev. William Richardson was chastised for offering comfort |
Ministers who departed from the expected
path paid dearly for it. Reverend William P. Richardson of St. George’s Episcopal Church conducted
a quiet prayer service for the dead on June 25 that was attended by about 80
people. When word reached diocesan Bishop Iveson Batchelor Noland
he publicly rebuked Richardson and disciplined him. Over a hundred members of his Church
registered formal complaints against him and he was flooded with hate
mail and threatening phone calls.
Finally, on July 1 two memorial services were
held. One was at the First Unitarian
Church of New Orleans which was no stranger to controversy having been firebombed
over its support for Civil Rights earlier. The second and larger service was conducted at
St. Mark’s United Methodist
Church and was presided by Louisiana Bishop Finis Crutchfield and MCC founder Reverend Troy Perry from Los Angeles. That service was especially memorable because mourners entered and exited the
church by the main front doors instead of a secluded
side entrance, a defiant demonstration of a willingness to be identified on camera. That was a turning point for the New Orleans
gay community.
Many felt that New
Orleans police were less than diligent in trying to solve
the murder of “those fags.” Although
no one claimed to have seen the arsonist, survivors and building owner James
“Jim” Massacci were convinced that due to the circumstances, it had to be someone familiar
with the layout of the entrance and the club’s buzz-in
policy. That suggested someone who had been a customer
or visitor and not a random
anti-gay attack.
One suspect came to mind, Rodger Dale Nunez, a street hustler and prostitute with a history hospitalizations
and belligerent behavior. He had been thrown out of the bar early during the social for starting a fight and had tried once or
twice to return. Police tried to interview, but found him hospitalized with a broken jaw, possibly a result of the
fight, and was unable to speak. They interviewed at least one other suspect,
a homeless man who may have boasted
about setting the fire, but determined that it was a false claim. Nunez was
placed in psychiatric custody but
managed to escape. Despite being seen by several witnesses around
the French Quarter, the police could not locate him. Acquaintances claimed than Nunez had
confessed to them saying he did not think that his “prank” would have such devastating consequences.\
Nunez committed suicide that November. Some believe his death was tantamount to an admission of guilt. Others
believe that he may have been driven to suicide by the widespread assumption in the gay community that he was the culprit.
The Police, who are often
eager to close tough cases when
a convenient suspect emerges, never
officially concluded that Nunez was the murderer. The case remained open until the Louisiana Fire Marshall officially
closed the case in 1980.
Slowly, New Orleans came to terms with what had
happened. It took decades. In 1988 on the 25th
Anniversary a major memorial service was
held in a major hotel ball room. It was organized by a reconstituted MCC congregation, the Big Easy MCC Congregation and included
several prominent religious leaders of
different faiths and local elected official were in attendance. At the conclusion of the service a
traditional New Orleans jazz funeral
procession was held—a public display
not possible before. Members of the MCC
church placed a wreath and a memorial plaque outside of the
building. The plaque remains.
Part of Skyler Fein's memorial art instillation featured photos of the victims and their stories. |
In 2008 artist Skylar Fein created an art
installation, Remember the Upstairs
Lounge now on display at the New
Orleans Museum of Art.
On the fortieth anniversary
in 2013 Roman Catholic Archbishop of New
Orleans, Gregory Michael Aymond issued a formal apology for the lack of sympathy shown by the Church in
1973, “In retrospect, if we did not release a statement we should have to be in
solidarity with the victims and their families ... The church does not condone
violence and hatred. If we did not extend our care and condolences, I deeply
apologize.” The statement was late in coming and mealy-mouthed. But then some
conservative Protestants denominations have
not done that much and would behave
exactly the same way today.
And that, my friends,
is a problem.
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