When President Gerald Ford told a bankrupt New York City that the federal government was not going to bail them out of their financial problems, the New York Daily News carried a front page headline on October 29, 1975: "Ford to City: Drop Dead." So, now you have some historical context for the title of this piece. In fact, my subject is history, gay history, our history, your history, and how very few of the "community" (notice the quotation marks around that term) seem interested in that history.
A few months ago, I contacted Bay Area Reporter assistant editor Matthew S. Bajko and told him about a very important cache of films that our organization had acquired. When I explained to Bajko the importance of what we had discovered, he immediately came to our office and spent several hours looking at something extraordinary that we had acquired: the home movies of the late David Eugene Bell, a New York interior designer and artist who had photographed himself and his gay circle of friends in a series of 37 reels of 8mm color film, from the late 1940s to the late 1980s. What was unique about these films is that they were shot at a time when being identified as gay could be dangerous: loss of family, job, and even life.
The B.A.R. ran the story in the front page of the paper and on its website, complete with a video that we prepared specifically to inform viewers of our preservation efforts for these films and the need for financial support from the community. The real urgency about saving these films was that they were in fragile condition, and needed to be copied right away, or they would be lost. You can read the piece and see the video at: http://ebar.com/news/article.php?sec=news&article=69007.
Simultaneously, we reached out to individuals, gay organizations around the U.S., and gay business associations. Tens of thousands of contacts, e-mails, personal meetings and in-person appeals. Yes, tens of thousands. The result: zero. Not one single penny came in. So, I really began to question the whole idea of "community," what I'm beginning to believe is a convenient myth. How can we ignore our own history, and still consider ourselves a community? That was not a rhetorical question. It's one that really demands an answer.
At first I was stunned about the total lack of response. Then I began to get really angry. Is our community interested only in big splashy events, with flashing lights, over-amplified music, people in leather and drag queens? Is that the community? It's certainly the image that the mainstream media puts out there year after year. Or is there a real community with a great deal of diversity, one with a past, a present, and a future, all of which are equally important? If so, we need to preserve our past. We cannot be vigilant about our rights if we don't remember when we didn't have them. We're always just one generation from losing our liberties. Do we really want to risk returning to the Stonehenge/Stonewall age?
We can still save these films, but time is running out. They are now teetering on the edge of oblivion. All that is needed to save them is money. Is there not one single person of means in the community who could write a check to pay for this project? Or maybe 20,000 people who could give $1? Or do I need to do a fundraiser or beer bust, replete with drag queens and leathermen to get the attention of people who should care about this. Let's show the world that we are a real community, one without quotation marks around the word. Speak up with your money and your support. We'll even name the collection after you when it goes to our overall collection at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for long-term preservation and study. Just send me an e-mail: [email protected] and I'll let you know where to send a check or make a PayPal payment. Please!
Ron Merk is a San Francisco-based film producer and director with the Metro Theatre Center Foundation.