Summer Of Sixty Nine

Chapter 1. Out

There is trouble in the air, you can feel it. Danny is by himself in Manhattan, I'll let him tell it.

June 27, 1971

The hesitation to walk down the street is real. I hold my sharp keys tightly intertwined with my fingers. People like me are still never safe here. The amount of haunting attacks I see every single day because we are just living our authentic lives is astronomical. All we want to do is live in safety just like every other person. Even after Stonewall, we are not safe. Even after all the blood, sweat, and a lot of tears.

Hi, my name is Daniel Bryson, Danny for short. I'm 19 now, and I live in Manhattan, New York. I am a proud gay man and activist. I wish I could erase what I witnessed that late night in June. That memory will haunt me forever. It holds me in place locked to the memory of fear.  Let me go back a bit shall we? It all started with a missed payment. Actually, no it didn't let me go back further.

June 25, 1969 (Two years earlier)

"What do you mean get out?" I shouted in terror. I never knew my parents would have the nerve to kick out their seventeen-year-old son. "You heard us, GET OUT." My dad screamed back. My dad was always my superhero, but he was my worst nightmare now. I tried to look at my mom for comfort, But she just stood there in silence, not even helping me. The tears flowed like bullets pouring out of my eyes. All of this is just because I'm gay. I decided at that moment never to trust again. It never did me any good.

I needed to pack. I couldn't just leave without anything. I frantically packed a few shirts and shorts along with my hoodie. I know this might sound childish but I grabbed my favorite stuffed animal. I need him. I also grabbed the little money that I had socked away for emergencies only. This seemed like an emergency to me. I don't think little me would mind if I spent it.

I hoped that when I walked into the living room once again that my parents would have cooled down and be okay, but boy was I wrong. "You aren't our son anymore! We will not have a... a homosexual in our house" I had to zone everything out. I can't let them get to me anymore. Numbing myself to any form of feeling was the only way I would ever survive now.  I don't even try to bask in my leaving my childhood home. I don't have time for it. All I can do is walk out of this place I used to call home.

I was a good student who got amazing grades. Full ride to NYU after my senior year. Now, that all fell apart. My parents had my papers for my scholarship, and not to mention, how was I supposed to go to school now? I was supposed to graduate soon. All my dreams were slipping away by the second.

Then it hit me. My sister was standing there watching everything happen. She was sobbing. She ran up to me as fast as she could. "Please don't go, Danny, Please!" She cried her heart out into my arms. My little sister shouldn't have to witness this. She just wanted her older brother. "Hey, I have to. It's going to be okay, Rose. I will write every day, I promise." She continued to cry as I held her. "They are going to say some mean things at school but you are smart. They are going to continue to say those things but you won't believe them right." I speak knowing that my sister can't be taught like my parents were. To hate anyone who wasn't straight or white. "I will never believe them, I promise." I gently let her go out of my arms and started for the door. One last look and then I'm out.

As soon as the door shut behind me I fell to the cool wetness of the concrete ground. I sobbed hard. I had never felt like this before. I had always felt safe in my own home. Now I didn't have that safety net to fall back on. I decided that safety isn't a word that applies to me anymore.

I was on my own. I needed to pick myself up and keep going. All I could do now was walk. Walk away from my childhood home, walk away from all my memories, from my life. "Where do I go?" I speak with heartbreak in my voice. I have nowhere to go. I need to think. I don't like to think too much when it comes to life. I just like to go with the flow, but now I can't do that. I need a plan.

The thoughts travel through my mind like a bullet train, until I find a good idea. I am currently in the Bronx, which is probably not the best place for me right now. 149th street Grand Concourse is currently the closest subway station to me. If I make it there I can get on the subway and take the 2 train to Times Square. That is probably my best bet. I best get walking.

The looks I get while I walk down the street are interesting. Because why would a seventeen-year-old boy who looks younger be walking at sunset with a backpack too big for his body and a tear-stained face? The stares don't faze me though. I feel them, but I don't do anything about them because what is the point?

I make it to 149th street just at sunset. I always loved the fading colors in the sky that the sunrise and sunset brought. But I had no time to stop to see the pretty sight. I break my trance from the sunset and enter the dimly lit station as a flickering light taunts me. Standing on the platform is the scariest part for me. I always feel like I am going to fall onto the cold, running tracks. Alas, I did not and I made it onto the subway just fine.

The subway began to move when the anxiety kicked in. Anxiety had always been a constant in my life when everything around me was always at a change. Even though I hated my anxiety, I still loved it in a way. It made me know that I was alive.

My breath seemed to get quicker, and everything around me was spinning. Just breathe, I have to think on my toes now. "Breathe, breathe, it's okay." I had to trick my brain that everything was going to be okay. But in reality, everything was not okay. I couldn't think about that now. All I can do is breathe.

After my anxiety slowed, the ride to Times Square seemed to drag on forever. Why was it taking this long?   "Did I miss my stop?" I say quietly to myself. I look over to the working person to my left and ask sheepishly, "What is the next stop?" They turn to me and look annoyed, "Christopher Street." I sit there in terror. I had missed my stop. What should I do? It was way too dark to get on another subway. I just needed a place to sleep. That's all I wanted, sleep. "I guess I'm getting off at Christopher Street instead." I sighed knowing that my plan had failed.

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