All language subtitles for The.Last.American.Gay.Bar.S01E01.1080p_Legendas01.ENG

(Dance music)

(Dance music)

The blazing saddle? I'm like
what is this, some country bar?

(Dance Music)

There's, you know, these
abandoned buildings, and

You know, you're driving down -
there's not a soul on the
street. Not a soul.

So I turn and I pull up, and
here's this row of

These brownstone-like looking
buildings that are, you know,

More or less dumps. And right in
the middle of it

Was the Blazing Saddle, you
know. It stuck out. It was
painted this dark purple.

But it had huge bars on the
windows.

Blazing Saddle is a community
bar.

It's also a community home base.

Every organization comes through
there. Every organization has
had

Fundraisers through there.

It's not a gay bar on a Saturday
night - it's a community bar.

It's a straight bar, it's an
entertainment bar, a drag bar,

But it's not just a gay bar. And
that's why your documentary

About “the last gay bar”
couldn't be more true.

(Music)

There were no gay people around,
no one that I knew of that was
gay.

Nobody in the family, nothing
was ever mentioned about it.
It's as if they

Didn't exist. And of course it
would be awful to even mention

That they existed at that time.

I hadn't really met any gay
people. I only - you know - knew
society's reaction to gay
people.

And I hadn't had much experience
with alcohol,

So I wasn't going to like have
two or three drinks,

And so it was a little nerve
wracking.

To see some of these guys trying
to be ultra-conservative and go,

Yeah, I seen you at the book
store last week, bitch.

There's still a time period
when, you know,

You didn't want to be out.

And actually at the P & S
Lounge, I think, I remember when
I first was introduced to
somebody

I said, “Oh I'm Gary.” And he
said, “Oh glad to meet you now
what's your real name?”

Because everybody in the bar had
a “bar name”.

You didn't use your real name
and go into the bar.

There were certain things that
you did not do in gay bars. You
did not take a photograph in a
gay bar.

Anywhere in this country.

That was just - I mean -
inappropriate.

It was, I mean - you would
actually get yelled at if you
pulled a camera out and tried to
take a picture.

In a gay bar.
That's changed.

If you're a gay bar in today's
society, if you don't blend with
society,

Then you're not going to be
around very long.

You know, we've got straight
people that come in here
religiously

And love the place, and we love
them.

Now, yeah, some of those bridal
showers are a real pain in the
ass

‘Cause all young girls and come
in and think they're gonna take
over.

No, bitch. Settle down. You know
where you're at?

I was - June 5, 1949 - delivered
at home

And my grandmother was kind of
the midwife.

And I popped out and said,

“Hello! It's showtime!”

We were basically a poor family.
Ate a lot of ham and beans, and

Raccoon and squirrel and rabbit,
and

Whatever the old man killed, we
ate. But we were happy.

Well, first of all, I was born
smack in the middle of World War
II

There was a lot going on and

In January 1943.

You know, I had actually a
pretty idyllic childhood.

Those first few years.

By the time I graduated high
school in 1962,

You know, I've hit adolescence
and puberty and

I've figured out that it looks

To me like I might be gay.

You know, I didn't much like
that idea.

I was growing up in Dubuque,
where the parochial system was
larger than

The public system of education.
I'd never heard the word "gay".

In Dubuque.
You know, you try to educate
yourself,

You go to the public library and
try to find information. There
was nothing there.

Literally nothing.

My sex education - like most
parents, you just really don't

Talk much with your kids.

Um, they left a book called “The
Encyclopedia of Sex”

They'd had just about anything
you'd want to know about

The physical body and what
happened.

It had one small paragraph on
homosexuality.

It was still a psychiatric
diagnosis back then.

So you were mentally ill. And as
I remember,

It said that you were most
likely could commit suicide

By the time you were in your
middle 30s. So the only words
you really had to explain to
yourself

Or that you heard were “faggot”
and “queer”.

And “homosexual”. And, you know,

When you're growing up where sex
can't be talked about at all,

It leaves a lot to the
imagination and

A lot for exploration.

I did come out to my family

My father died quite young, so
he died before I was

Came out to him, but...

Actually, the first relative I
came out to was my twin sister,
Joan,

And she -

Her attitude was, “Oh thank God,
it all makes so much sense."

She told me she apologized to
two or three different girls

In her high school class because

Nobody could figure out why they
couldn't get my attention.

And so she was relieved.

I came out to my mother right
about that same time, and she
only had one question about it.

She said, “Have you ever been in
love?” And I said yes.

And she didn't care about
anything else.

Well, my real dad, he took off

Right after I was born and I
never really knew him.

He was very arrogant and never
had a credit card in his life.

And he wouldn't go to a doctor,

And he ended up dying of a
ruptured aneurism through the
belly.

But it was no loss to me because
I didn't know him.

Well, then I had all the other
step dads.

The last one, Bill, he was an
old southern hillbilly.

But the nicest man I had ever
met.

And when he - on my 40th
birthday he came back to see us

And he said, “Bob, I knew you
was queer. Doesn't matter.”

“You're my boy. Anybody wants to
screw with you, they've gotta go
through me."

The only way that gay people

I felt back then knew how to
meet other gay people was

Through a hole in the wall.

You know, that's how you met
people. And that's what I did
when I first came to Des Moines.

I went to Merle Hay Mall - it
was close to where the family

Was bought a home - and went up

There and went to the restroom
in the bowling alley, and here
was a hole in the wall.

And I met somebody through it,

Who in talking with him
afterwards, he said, “Have you
been down to the gay bar?”

And in my ignorance,

Said, “What's a gay bar?”
And he says, “Oh, that's where
people

Like you and I go to.”

I know I would have been
drafted, so I enlisted in the
Navy post college.

My ship, the aircraft carrier,
was

In dry dock in San Francisco for

Nine or ten months, so
essentially I was living
shipboard, but

In the city. And I got to know
San Francisco pretty well.

I was hired at American Can
before I got drafted, and I
worked for them for a couple
three months,

And I went into personnel and I
said,

“I've gotta take a two year
leave of absence here."

So I went home,

Called my folks,

Had mom go out and buy me a
bottle of Jack Daniels,

And I sat out in my 1968
International Scout

With an 8 track player and
listened to everything

Johnny Cash ever did, and killed
off the bottle.

Well, the next morning the old
man says, “Well, we've got to
take you down the draft center."

“Pop, they ain't gone take me,
I'm too drunk.” “I don't think
they care.”

They didn't.

In my senior year of college, we
had the lottery.

They need more troops.

Those with low numbers,

You were most likely to be
drafted right away as soon as
you finished college.

I drew number thirteen.

So I knew that I was going to

Be drafted pretty much as soon
as

I finished college. I wasn't
going to volunteer.

I had been on the debate team in
college, and

I did not support the war.

I thought we were on the wrong
side to start out with.

I had two of my shipmates who

Evidently saw right through my
closet door - my glass closet
door

Cause the invited me

To go with them on a weekend in
the city.

They took me on a tour of gay
bars in San Francisco

One of them had a wonderful
performance stage across the
front

For drag shows, and I of course
had never seen a drag show in my
life.

And I remember specifically this
one act -

Where this drag queen came out

In the wonderful white, frilly
dress

Hair in ringlets and

Flowers in her hair, and this
big garden swing

Dropped down from up over stage,

And the ropes were garlands with
flowers

And this singer got on that
swing and started swinging,

And the song of course was “If
you are going to San Francisco,

You'd better wear some flowers
in your hair”

Every time I think about that
song, I go right back there to
that bar.

And watching that singer go back
and forth

On the stage, singing that song,

And thinking to myself, “You
know? This isn't bad at all

These are real people, and
they're all having such a good
time, that there's no reason at
all

Why this can't be a part of me
too.” I remember having that
revelation

Which is part of coming out.

“I can do this. Yes.”

The day before I was to leave,

There was a horrible snowstorm.
Well, I decided I was going out.
It didn't make any difference.

What it was, this was my last
night in Des Moines.

And I was going to Vietnam, and
maybe I was never coming home.

So I went out. I went out to a
bar called the Mail Box Lounge.

It was a new gay bar in town.

It had just been open a couple
of months. Very few people
there.

I did meet somebody, though.

And I went home, and in the
morning I was on the first
flight out of Des Moines.

And what I didn't know until
many months later when I was out
of the Navy and back to

Home here was that I had that
experience

On the weekend of

June 28, 1969.

Which meant on the same weekend
the Stonewall Riots were
happening in Greenwich Village.

I think of myself as a child of
Stonewall, because my coming out

Coincided with that weekend.

Well, I went to Fort Polk,
Louisiana.

And if you're going to go to
Nam, that's the place to go.
Cause there's weeds and stink
and

Hotter than holy hell, so you're
ready for it.

Well then I got into a program
with training

To be a sergeant, the NCO
academy in Fort Benning,
Georgia.

So I went out there and took
that.

And then I took recondo training
and a few other

If it was a school I went to it.

I don't know if I could do it
now, but I could take a 45

Blindfolded, field strip it,
I'll put it back together, go
through the manual of arms, and
there you are.

There's a lot of people in the
military who are also gay.

And I think that's like any
other situation where you have a
totally male environment.

There are times you

Even those who aren't gay

May want to have a sexual
experience.

One thing that I always taught
all of my guys -

Just remember, when we go out
tonight, you're gonna die.

So if you're prepared for it,
you don't worry about it.
Because you've got no influence
over it at all.

My goal wasn't really to kill
commies.

Just go on out, follow me, do
what I tell you to do,

And I'll bring you back home.

Well, one night I'm out training
arm mens how to patrol

And I get a call over the radio

My other team had been hit.

And I sat down and listened, and
this one had died,

That one had died, this one got
his eyes blown out...

The medic, his eyes have popped
out and he's crawling around
trying to find body parts.

And I just sat there in the
middle of the field and cried.

Because the night before, I had
told them

That road was land mined, don't
go down it.

Well, they never passed it on to
the other team.

Came back feeling like

I didn't stand up to my
principles were.

And nor in the country were we
treated that way.

It's different today when you
see us going to various parts of
the world, in Afghanistan

And Iran and Iraq - they went
over

As a company, so you had that
sense of camaraderie.

A Vietnam veteran, you didn't
have that.

You went over as an individual
and you came home as one.

I hated it when I land in
California - “Baby killer!”

And blah blah - that was the
last thing I ever did.

I would never shoot civilians,
babies,

The villagers loved me like on
of theirs.

We had our first

Cavalry reunion in Minneapolis,
Minnesota.

And my best “fuck buddy” put it
together

And I get there, and he says,
“Don't out me! Don't out me!"

I won't do that!
So I had enough brandy in me, I
went up to the

First sergeant

“Did you know back in the day?”

And he says, “Sergeant
Eikleberry, I know you're as
queer as a three dollar bill,

But you're the best darn
sergeant that I have ever had.”
40 years of worrying about
something

Just (shoo).

And there was a lot of us, but
we had to keep it quiet.

Just keep you trap shut and your
zipper up -

Until it's time to take it down.

I had very special parents.

And before I left, I had

Made a peace sign out of
Christmas lights and was going
to put it up at the house.

My father wouldn't let me.

And when I came home,

I noticed the lit peace sign was
on the peak of the house.

And I said, “When did that go
up?”
And my mother said, “The day you
left."

“Your father's had it on every
night."

So that was enough for me.

I heard about The Loop. So I'm
up driving The Loop, and

Trying to get a little, and I
see this guy pulling

A parking lot and I looked at
him and watched him, and he had
that “swoosh”.

John.

So I walk in and I'm still in my
BDU's and beret.

And I walked up to the
bartender,

And I said, “Is this one of them
queer bars?”
And everybody shut up.

I was built like a brick
shithouse back then.

And he said, “Yeah, it's a gay
bar.”

And I said, “Thank God, Mary,
I'm home.”

First time I went downtown to
check out the P & S Lounge,

Which was the iconic gay bar in
Des Moines,

At the time - You had to park in
this surface parking lot,

And cross busy 2nd Avenue
without anybody seeing you

And slipping into the bar.

Gary summed it up real good one
time -

People treat us like we're
second class citizens

And this is how we're supposed
to act.

So hell, act that way.

Well, the point of spending any
time in a gay bar is

To do some cruising.

I was going out mushroom hunting
and this guy kept cruising me,
and I thought, “Well, looky
here..."

And all of a sudden I found out
I could have a lot of good sex
out there.

It was all about sucking dick,
you know.