In other words, it was a regular June night out on the town for trans and queer folks in 1969 New York City.Īs the legend goes, that night the cops did not receive their payoff or they wanted to remind the patrons of their precarious existence. The police entered, began examining everyone’s IDs, and lined up the trans/gender-non-conforming folks to be “checked” by an officer in the restroom to ensure that they were wearing the legally mandated three pieces of “gender appropriate clothing.” Simultaneously the cops started roughing up people, dragging them out front to the awaiting paddy wag- on. Well experienced, people stopped dancing, changed clothing, removed or applied makeup, and got ready. The flicker warned of the danger of the coming raid. Sylvia Riveraīright lights shattered the dark anonymity of the dance floor. We always felt that the police were the real enemy.
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