Fairyland: A Memoir of My Father (31 page)

It is only circumstances that make death a terrible event.

She dreamt of our fish tank breaking & all the fish . . .

You should not have to burn your hand every day to feel the mystery of fire.

EPILOGUE

A
FTER MY FATHER
died, nearly twenty years ago, the lights in fairyland went dark. I left San Francisco for New York in the hope of rekindling the adult life I had to snuff out when Dad got sick, but the world I rejoined there was mostly young and straight. I could count on one finger the number of friends who’d even met my dad. At first this was liberating. I could reinvent myself. I could be someone other than “daughter.” But I also felt this persistent sense of dislocation. With few people to share memories of my father, I had no outlet for my grief. I started to feel as if the life we’d shared existed only in my head and in the pages of Dad’s out-of-print books, his journals, and the letters I ritualistically reread on his birthday and on the anniversary of his death. This disconnect intensified after the introduction of protease inhibitors in the mid-nineties changed AIDS from a death sentence into a manageable disease. Those who hadn’t lived through the epidemic would come to know almost nothing of it, as a cultural amnesia set in. The heavy warlike losses of the AIDS years were relegated to queer studies classrooms, taught as gay history and not American history.

All along, my memories of those years have followed me, along with my father’s papers, from an apartment on the Lower East Side to a Brooklyn loft and finally to the house in Cambridge, Massachusetts, that I now share with my husband and two young children. All along they spoke to me, and I to them, and in the course of that conversation this book emerged, more by fits than starts. Finally, now, nearly twenty years after I first sat down in that closet full of notebooks, the book is written.

But something happened along the way. Researching Dad’s life, I’ve made contact with his old colleagues and friends and others we knew—people like Joyce Jenkins of
Poetry Flash
; and Jimmy Siegel, who owns Distractions; and Sean, the smiling Southerner who worked at Coffee Tea & Spice. Speaking with them, I got to hear three powerful words, three words I didn’t know I so badly needed to hear: “I remember you.”

With these words, the lights switch on. The music plays. The carousel starts up again and those glittery and colorful horses move up and down and around, delighting my every sense. For a moment, I get to be a child again. I feel wholly me.

Working late one night, with my kids and husband peacefully sleeping upstairs, I decided, for the first time, to research the
B.A.R
. obituary database. The
B.A.R.
, or
Bay Area Reporter
, where Dad sometimes covered books and arts, was an important barometer of the AIDS epidemic, the papers dramatically thickening as the number of dead increased. Those obituaries are now online, thanks to the GLBT Historical Society, part of a database searchable by name or year.

Sitting in the dark alone, I easily found the obituaries of friends like Robert (“a devout Wagnerian”), Tommy (“Teddy and Cuddles were by his bedside”), Jono (“An incredible kisser, a perfect listener”), and Sam (“Goodbye, my mystery”). Then I searched out names from Dad’s journals, men I didn’t know but who were among his friends. Then I just started browsing, randomly clicking on names, reading stories and staring at picture after picture of the dead. All of these Peter Pans, young men frozen in their eighties haircuts and sweaters, never to realize the potential of that first book of poetry, that well-received play or generous heart (“His friends
were
his life”). And soon I was sobbing, sobbing until my eyes were puffy like a boxer’s. I felt battered with grief. How strange, I thought, when the crying finally subsided. I’m not gay. I’m not a member of this generation of men that lost so many friends that whole phone books had to be tossed. This grief, I now realize, has always been with me. I’d just never located it.

This place where Dad and I lived together, our fairyland, wasn’t make-believe but a real place with real people, and I was there. And though I haven’t lived in San Francisco since 1994, and though the life I live is very different from the life we shared, one Dad might even consider bourgeois, I am very much a product of his world. Though I am straight and haven’t had a living gay parent for almost twenty years, I still feel a part of this queer community. This queer history is my queer history. This queer history is our queer history.

LIST OF SOURCES

Part I: Fairytales

Bronski, Michael.
A Queer History of the United States.
Boston: Beacon Press, 2011.

Shannon, Margaret. “College Politics and the New Left.”
Atlanta Journal and Constitution Magazine
, October 27, 1968.

“Former Kewaneean Killed in Accident.”
Kewanee Star Courier
, August 29, 1973.

“Two Killed in Highway 11 Wreck.”
Sweetwater Valley News,
August 30, 1973.

Part II: Motherless

Hatfield, Larry D. “Love and Haight.”
San Francisco Examiner
, August 17, 1997.

James, Scott. “A Near-Forgotten Casualty of AIDS: The Haight’s Gay Identity.”
New York Times
, November 24, 2010.

Pennington, Greg L. “Mirrors of Our Community: A History of the Gay Pride Parades in San Francisco.”
San Francisco Bay Area Gay and Lesbian Historical Society Newsletter
1, no. 4 (June 1986).

Shilts, Randy.
The Mayor of Castro Street: The Life and Times of Harvey Milk
. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1982.

Sides, Josh.
Erotic City: Sexual Revolutions and the Making of Modern San Francisco.
New York: Oxford University Press, 2009.

Left/Write.
Edited transcripts of 1981 Left/Write Conference. Edited by Steve Abbott. 1982.

Note: Quotes from poets at Cloud House party are taken from transcripts of the Left/Write conference panel with these same Cloud House members in 1981.

Part III: Borrowed Mothers

Abbott, Steve. “10 Years of Poetry Flash.”
Poetry Flash
, April 1983.

Clendinen, Dudley. “Anita Bryant, Singer and Crusader.”
Saint Petersburg Times
, November 28, 1999.

Fetner, Tina.
How the Religious Right Shaped Lesbian and Gay Activism
. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2008.

Gold, Herbert.
“
A Walk on San Francisco’s Gay Side.”
New York Times,
November 6, 1977.

Left/Write.
Edited transcripts of 1981 Left/Write Conference. Edited by Steve Abbott. 1982.

Mathews, Tom. “The Battle over Gay Rights.”
Newsweek,
June 6, 1977.

Shilts, Randy.
The Mayor of Castro Street: The Life and Times of Harvey Milk
. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1982.

Part IV: The Quake

Abbott, Steve. “Gossip and Scandal: Poetry Newsletters & Reviews.”
Poetry Flash,
February 1983.

——
—. “10 Years of Poetry Flash.”
Poetry Flash,
April 1983.

Adler, Jerry. “The AIDS Conflict.”
Newsweek
, September 23, 1985.

Alter, Jonathan. “Sins of Omission.”
Newsweek
, September 23, 1985.

Clark, Matt. “AIDS.”
Newsweek
, August 12, 1985.

Fetner, Tina.
How the Religious Right Shaped Lesbian and Gay Activism
. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2008.

Harris, Kaplan. “Causes, Movements, Poets.” Unpublished manuscript.

——
—. “New Narrative and the Making of Language Poetry.”
American Literature
81, no. 4 (December 2009): 805–32.

Lindsey, Robert. “20 Years after the Summer of Love, Haight-Ashbury Looks Back.”
New York Times
, July 7, 1987.

Roy, Camille, Mary Burger, Gail Scott, and Bob Glück, eds.
Biting the Error: Writers on Narrative
. Toronto: Coach House Press, 2004.

Seligman, Jean. “The AIDS Epidemic, The Search for a Cure.”
Newsweek
, April 18, 1983.

Snyder, Ruth. “‘Gay Bashing’—AIDS Fear Cited as Attacks on Male Homosexuals Grow.”
Los Angeles Times
, April 10, 1986.

Tremblay-McGaw, Robin. “New Narrative: A Queer Economy of Insufficiencies & Excess.” Unpublished manuscript.

We Were Here
. Documentary film. Directed by David Weissman and Bill Weber. Red Flag Releasing, 2011.

Part V: Departures

Bronski, Michael.
A Queer History of the United States.
Boston: Beacon Press, 2011.

D’Allesandro, Sam.
The Zombie Pit
. Foreword by Steve Abbott. San Francisco: Crossing Press, 1989.

Leerhsen, Charles. “Hard Times Ahead.”
Newsweek
, August 12, 1985.

Schneider, David.
Street Zen: The Life and Work of Issan Dorsey
. Cambridge, MA: DaCapo Press, 2000.

Schulman, Sarah.
Stagestruck: Theater, AIDS, and the Marketing of Gay America.
Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1998.

White, Edmund. “Out of the Closet, Onto the Bookshelf.”
New York Times
, June 16, 1991. Reprinted in White, Edmund.
The Burning Library: Essays.
Edited by David Bergman. New York: Knopf, 1994.

We Were Here
. Documentary film. Directed by David Weissman and Bill Weber. Red Flag Releasing, 2011.

Part VI: Return

Irvine, Martha. “Teenage Runaways Find an Alcoholic Haze in Haight Ashbury.” Associated Press, September 15, 1996.

Marine, Craig. “Streets of Their Dreams Surrounded by Madness.”
San Francisco Examiner
, February 20, 1994.

Walker, Thaal. “The Haight Getting Dangerous, Residents and Cops Say.”
San Francisco Chronicle
, May 10, 1993.

Works by Steve Abbott

Transmuting Gold.
San Francisco: Androgyne Books, 1978.

Wrecked Hearts.
San Francisco: Dancing Rock Press, 1978.

Stretching the Agape Bra.
San Francisco: Androgyne Books, 1981.

The Lives of the Poets.
San Francisco: Black Star Series, 1987.

Skinny Trip to a Far Place.
San Francisco: e.g. Press, 1988.

Holy Terror
. San Francisco: Crossing Press, 1989.

View Askew: Postmodern Investigation
. San Francisco: Androgyne Books, 1989.

Lizard Club.
San Francisco: Autonomedia, 1993.

Lost Causes
. Unpublished.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Libraries are endangered treasures. I relied enormously in my research on the informed and dedicated staff of the San Francisco Public Library’s History Center, especially Susan Goldstein and Tim Wilson, and the GLBT Historical Society. The staff at NYU’s Bobst Library and the Woodberry Poetry Room helped me locate important letters and books. I spent the majority of my writing hours at Harvard’s Widener and Lamont Libraries and at the magical Collins Branch Library, where staff serve patrons butter cookies and hot tea every Thursday afternoon.

To write you need space and quiet. I’m grateful to the Ragdale Foundation for granting me three weeks on the prairie; the dear friends who put me up on my research trips to San Francisco, especially Roger, Mishiara, and little Elodie; and Maggie and Joe, who offered me their beautiful home in my final stages of editing.

I must thank the many friends, family members, and colleagues of mine, and my father’s, who shared their stories and patiently answered my repeated questions, including Elaine Abbott, Niki Berkowitz, David Binder, Bruce Boone, Anne-Marie Burger, John Dale, Karin Demarest, Dede Donovan, Dan Fine, Camille Floquet, Jon Fox, French American International School, Nina Friedman at the Cradle, Farris Garcia, Bob Glück, William B. Hampton, Kaplan Harris, Joyce Jenkins, Kevin Killian, Lara Klemens, Gerard Koskovich, Ginny Lloyd, Sean Monahan, John Norton, Andrea Richardson, Larry-Bob Roberts, Jim Siegel, Ron Silliman, Janet Smith, Robin Tremblay-McGaw, Ken Weichel, Sandra Weiksner, and Yayne Wondafarow.

I want to thank the readers who helped at various stages of writing this book, especially Martha Bebinger, Noel Black, Michael Bronski, Nazila Farhi, Andrea Meyer, Vanessa Mobley, Honor Moore, Rose Moss, Miranda Purves, Beena Sarwar, the New School gang (including LL, Lisa, and Nancy), Kate Tuttle, AQ, and detail-oriented Kris Wilton. The brilliant Alexander Chee also gave me needed perspective and extensive notes at a critical juncture.

I am grateful for the existence of Brad, the better half of “Ham-butt Productions.” His pun-laced humor has kept me buoyed these last few years, and then some. I’m also lucky to know little p. Her faith in this project has been steady for almost two decades.

Thank you to my wonderful copy editor, Allegra Huston, and to the talented staff at W. W. Norton, especially Elizabeth Riley, Anna Mageras, and my editor, Amy Cherry. Amy guided me through the writing of
Fairyland
with generosity, intelligence, and grace. I feel so fortunate to have met you, Amy.

Though I’ve been writing this book in my head for nearly twenty years, I didn’t focus on the project until I became a Nieman Affiliate. I want to thank the Nieman Foundation for creating an atmosphere that fostered intellectual curiosity and growth. Without this space, I’d have never have met David Patterson, the editor-turned-agent who helped me find a good home for
Fairyland
. Thank you, David, for your gentlemanly manners and sympathetic ear.

And then there’s Jeff. Though often busy supporting our brood with his own varied projects, he took time to read my grotty drafts and provided me with crucial advice when I needed it most. It’s been a long journey to the publication of
Fairyland
. I couldn’t imagine sharing this achievement with anyone else.