Last year the San Francisco Chronicle reported all was sweetness and light in the Castro on Halloween. A few days later, a smaller article mentioned about 30 arrests. But anyone who was there can verify that a sense of danger and dread was present during the Halloween evening.
My partner and I went to hear a DJ we like, and made our way through the crowd: it was predominantly young, moderately plastered, and less than 25 percent in costume.
Near the stage at 19th Street, the sense of menace got a lot more real. My partner was shoved by a group of five suburban wannabe-hoods. It became obvious they were pushing each other into people, hoping to get a response. We muttered to each other to watch out, and in less than 60 seconds saw that they had succeeded in getting someone to confront them. The next thing we knew, this guy, a shirtless Asian partier, was on the ground in fetal position and at least three of the guys that had been looking for someone to jack were taking turns kicking the shit out of him.
Five on one is never okay. I heard no antigay epithets, but still saw red. I was pulling two of them off the kid and screaming at all of them. Another one punched me in the head from behind but I was able to back them off and chased the guy who hit me down Castro Street until he pulled a knife. My partner stayed right with me, both holding me back, and backing me up. Had this happened at an AIDS demo a dozen years ago, I think 10 or so of my brothers or sisters would have bounced onto each assailant and kept them there until they could be arrested. But this was a different, a less experienced crowd; they just looked surprised and watched.
I followed the last guy at a distance until I came to where five SF police officers were stationed, but by the time they calmed me down they were not able to do anything to find the assailants. I forgot that the crazed guy (this would be me), who was screaming madly at the five thugs, and then put in a hammerlock by the police, was dressed as a furry red bunny.
Since I'd never want anyone else to go through what I experienced that night, or what that kid on the ground experienced, I contacted the police and the organizers of this event to see if it could be canceled for this year. Sergeant Chuck Limbert and Lt. Barnes at Mission Station were helpful and set up a meeting with the officers I had met. All agreed that the event had been dangerous. Organizer John Wood felt it had been advertised too broadly (KMEL had been a sponsor and had reportedly urged listeners to come party "with the freaks") and even Audrey Joseph of the Entertainment Commission told me she found the crowd there scary. Supervisor Bevan Dufty and his staff were consistently helpful.
Last year the Bay Area Reporter news article quoted Dufty: "Saturday night [before Halloween] was very mellow and fun." I was also present the night before Halloween and he was right. On Saturday nearly everyone was playful and in costume, and there were maybe 5,000 locals instead of the 250,000 spectators reported on Halloween.
But everyone said there was "no way" to cancel a Halloween night event that has built up so much momentum over the years.
Maybe that is so. But this year Halloween falls on a Monday, and next year on a Tuesday. Shouldn't we be doing everything possible to at least "build it down"?
Some of the Sisters, who no longer sponsor this event, still like to come and have a Ceremony of Light. Could they change that to an exorcism, please? Most of my friends who live (or used to live) in that neighborhood now stay the hell away on Halloween night. Shouldn't we get the word out to those who are new that the fun night is Saturday before Halloween, and the un-fun night is Halloween? And how about handing out CUAV whistles to everyone who does show up on Monday, alerting and asking for their help making it a lot safer than last year?
One of the police officers at last year's event made this honest, but telling, remark: "What do you expect us to do? There are only a few of us and thousands of them." It is easy to feel that way in the midst of danger, but the reality is different. There are actually thousands of us – of all ages, in outrageous drag or police uniforms, gayer or straighter, into raves and house and hip-hop – who want to have a good time at a party and get along with each other just fine. And there are only a few of "them," still uncomfortable with their sexuality, and therefore preferring to create violence instead.
While trying to downsize the event this year and next (for example, by not advertising it on the radio), let's warn those who do come that Halloween night is less than a safe party. And that everyone who comes to the Castro plans to support and protect each other.
Mark Freeman is a longtime San Francisco community member. When he's not wearing the red furry suit he works as a health care provider to gay and transgender populations.