Personal tales of how people make a difference
As I am sure, most of us are inspired by our parents and what they do for us. My mother is my inspiration. She constantly exhibits an undying and undeniable love for me that is totally unconditional. I hope in the years to come that I will be able to return the favor to her.
My name is Bill McCarthy. I founded the Unity Foundation in 1976 to promote world peace, cooperation and unity. As a gay man in 1977, I was appalled by the hateful Anita Bryant Save Our Children Campaign and wanted to do something about it. I became the co-producer of the 1977 San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade and Celebration in San Francisco with Chuck Morris, the Publisher of the Sentinel Newspaper. I was the producer of the celebration and booked all the performers for the event, which featured Sylvester as the headliner. I was also the person who convinced the Gay Freedom Day Committee that we needed to have the celebration right in front of City Hall to show we were powerful and unafraid. The committee wanted to once again have the event in Golden Gate Park because some of the committee members were afraid there would be problems with gangs and the religious supporters of Anita Bryant. After stressing that there was every indication that more than 100,000 people would be coming from all over the country to participate in the event, the committee finally agreed to have the stage in Civic Center Plaza, in front of City Hall. Each year since 1977 the stage has been placed in front of City Hall. The San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade and Celebration drew 250,000 to 300,000 participants and spectators. The largest parade in San Francisco before 1977 was estimated at around 35,000. The event was a major national and international success that empowered and unified the Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Communities and for the first time gave recognition to the Transgender community with the first ever Transgender speaker addressing the audience from the main stage. Anita Bryant and her campaign of hate came to an end shortly after the 1977 San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Celebration, which along with other parades and celebrations around the country and the world brought our community to the center of the world's media attention for the first time. The 1977 San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade and Celebration was the flagship celebration for our human rights at that time, being the largest parade and celebration in our history.
I really liked the movie especially the party scene . who was the tall actress in the great dress that was doing all the partying and yelling go Harvey go Harvey? Harvey kisses her after one of his speeches. She looked Alot like Dianne Feinstein but was not playing her part?
Having spent most of her highschool years in the hospital, my mom learned not only how to deal with a chronic illness but how to remain optimistic. Struggling with medical bills and sickness, my mom still managed to take classes, start a family, and volunteer in the local community. She has always taught me that defeat is not an option. She embodies a sense of motivation and enthusiasm for life that inspires me to share in her bravery.
In 1976 I moved to San Francisco from Huntington Beach to be with my partner now of 33 years. I first met Harvey Milk handing out his campaign flyers in the parking lot of a Safeway Super Market. I was working in San Francisco for a chain of Ice Cream Candy Stores called Shaws. When working at the store at 18th Street and Collingwood in the Castro District, Harvey used come in at times and buy a bag of jelly beans and sit and read a book. He would eat all of the Jelly Beans at one sitting. I also saw Harvey at the Pride parades in San Francisco. I was working for Shaws when I got the tragic news that Harvey and Mayor Moscone had been murdered at City Hall. I'll never forget going to a memorial in front of San Francisco City Hall along with thousands of people and hearing Joan Baez sing Amazing Grace. Incidentally, a few months later I was shot in an attempted hold up in the Ice Cream Candy store.
At 17 years old, I decided that I was going to tell my Dad that I was gay. I had already told my Mother and she had not taken it that well. I could tell she was depressed and withdrawn. And she was fearful that if my Father found out that he would leave our home out of frustation. So I kept the secret from my Dad for about 6 weeks. But the guilt grew - I felt like my Dad should know. So I decided I would tell him. It was the summer, so I off of school. I would drive into the city and meet him on his lunch break. My Dad was about 6 feet tall. He had a moustache like most guys in the fire department. Sort of a macho guy but still caring and loving. But someone we feared in our family when he was angry. But I was going to do this still. I arrived at lunch. The lunch went very well - my Dad was an easy man to talk to. Unless you were on his bad side or we were having a disagreement. So I focused on all of the good things ... my summer job, college ... the things I thought he wanted to talk about. OK the check was coming. I was now scared. I felt an uneasiness inside and my eyesight was a bit blurry, but I had to do this. I had a goal - I made a promise. I could not decieve him anymore. "Dad, there is something I have to tell you." "OK" "I am gay." He had his sunglasses on (he liked to wear them so that people could not see if he was looking at them I think), so it was difficult to know his reaction. But he was calm. He said he knew and that maybe I would change my mind and dont get AIDS. Whew. I couldnt believe it. It was over. I survived. Its many years later. And my parents are definitely proud to have a gay son. Which I wasnt sure would happen. But it does happen. Even when it wasnt what they wanted or expected. They realize what a great thing it can be.
A flame. The eloquence and power inherent in the symbol of a flame cannot be captured in words or pictures. You cannot see holiness. What is on the outside, visible to the eye, is entirely physical. A desperate red orange orgy of fury that reaches out and up. It is a fiery bouquet. Each blazing flame of the fire burns with a vengeance all its own, as if at any moment it will break free from the whole and leapfrog the sky. Up. Beyond. The flight of the flame. Forever seeking. Here, the flames stretch well beyond Market Street bleeding up Polk to City Hall. The power of the universe is burning atop tiny cylinders made of nothing but wax and wick. Each fragile flame flickers delicately but steadfast in the wind, painting teardrops over the unending darkness. They leave a staggering wake of tortured grief that trails beyond the scope of our ability to envision a road to healing. A city weeping quietly in the glow, hushed and bound by shock. The blessing of a spirit is at hand. A heros soul, released, offered up into the unimaginable void. Each dancing flame waves its own silent goodbye. Tens of thousands comprise the whole. Farewell. Farewell. On and on forever, farewell. Although the heros duties have now ceased, the lights that shine over this night shall burn on without end, constructing an unbreakable fortress of peace. An overwhelming and unprecedented response to violence. The duty of peace is never easy when anger explodes onto the scene. And yet, it can never be more powerful and real than this. When anger demands action but peace prevails. What a glorious and triumphant tribute to the man and men among men who possess the courage to believe that they alone can affect a difference while every step of the way embracing and protecting the requirement of peace at all costs. They have walked among us. They walk on. We follow. Its easy. The trail is impossible to miss, glazed with crystals that shimmer in the embrace of sunlit lasers, shining prisms of light in every possible direction. The land is covered in light, protected and warm, as far as the eyes can see. And beyond. All is peace. "I know that you cannot live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living. And you... And you... And you... Gotta give em hope. Thank you very much." -Harvey Milk _____________________ The essay above was included on the Library of Inspiration website, at the following link: http://www.libraryofinspiration.com/film_1980s_thetimesofharveymilk.htm
I remmember driving over market st when the huge candle light vigil was taking place After Harveys death. I was twenty one and barely coming out and had no clue what all the candle lights were about?the next day i read the paper and found out who Harvey Milk was and what had happened. It was an amazing site to see,---years later in the early eighties Cleve Jones moved in with my Partner my son and myself In Sacramento for about three months, Cleave told us all about the early years of working with Harvey, so when the documentary of The life and times of Harvey Milk came out i saw it and wept. I wept for the struggle of gay people and i also wept for that night that i saw all those candle lights and had no idea what had happened.
As I sat in our lunch room at work. A co-worker and I were watching the Eye witness 5 news channel, and the prop 8 segment was showing. I was mad and disgusted about people trying to ban gay marriage that I asked my co-worker what he thought about it? And his response, which i respect because it is his choice. Said that he wants gay marriage to be ban all over. That it is wrong for two men and two women to marry each other when we are meant to be men and women. And I argued with him saying, that if prop 8 passes, then we are taking away their freedom and human rights. Not just that, but we are discriminating against gay and lesbians because of what they believe, and of how they want to live there lives. We as human beings have no right to tell someone how to live there lives, they have a choice and we all need HOPE in this world, because "With out hope, life is not worth living." And I quoted it from the "Times of Harvey Milk". But i can say that after our brief argument about prop 8. My co-worker thought about it more and did agree that it is wrong. Daniel A. Chivalan
In April 2003, my 17-year-old son stood before a packed house at a school board meeting and stated why the local high school needed to allow a panel of GLBT students from a local college to speak during an annual event known as Respect Week. The student council felt it was time to "expand" the discussion to include tolerance and understanding toward GLBT individuals. However, a small but extremely vocal group of parents in the community protested the inclusion of this topic. At this meeting, my son shared a secret that previously had only been known by his immediate family and a few very close and loyal friends. By this action, he put a face on homosexuality in that school and what it's like to go through those years hearing the derogatory language, the slurs, and personal verbal attacks. In the end, the school board caved and the panel was "uninvited" to Respect Week. However, they couldn't deny that gays and lesbians were in their midst and they weren't going to go back into the closet. For the remainder of the school year, he also felt a change in attitude within his school thanks to the leadership of the senior class in their attempt to educate others, and also their acceptance through admiration of my son's courage to state who he is to a hostile community. My son has always made me proud - but I never felt more satisfaction or pride in being a parent, or more admiration and respect for my son than on that night.
Harvey Milk's life touched and inspired thousands of people; here are just a few of them.
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Scott Macaulay on the Milk and the biopic tradition.
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FilmInFocus finds out what happened to Harvey Milk's friends and colleagues after his tragic death.
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