by Mark Segal
I told him he was correct, then said, “We’re now even.”
My coalition had beaten him on domestic partnership legislation and now he had won the battle for city council supremacy. We both had a good laugh to accompany our lunch.
In 2011, the Philadelphia city council passed the most far-reaching LGBT legislation in the nation. It was a well-needed update of an old piece of legislation. Sponsored by our friend and Rafferty replacement, Councilman Jim Kenney, the legislation now included trans issues; it even gave tax credits to corporations that offered trans benefits.
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On August 28, 2008, my partner Jason and I, along with our friend Nia Meeks, were sitting in Invesco Field listening to will.i.am and waiting for Senator Barack Obama to make his speech accepting the Democratic nomination for president when my cell phone rang. I tried to answer, but due to security measures in the stadium it was hard to keep a signal. It took several callbacks for me to get the message. Just before accepting the nomination, the Obama people got a tip that the Republican nominee, Senator John McCain, was about to announce his VP choice in order to mute the publicity Obama would receive from his acceptance speech. One of the prospective candidates was former Pennsylvania governor and secretary of Homeland Security, Tom Ridge. If that happened, the Democrats wanted me to be prepared to speak on the subject.
Political pundits and columnists were falling all over themselves trying to guess who McCain would pick and when. Several weeks earlier I’d made a few guesses and offered a detailed analysis on two leading candidates in my weekly column. At the top on my list was Ridge, who as governor was a zero on LGBT rights. Just before becoming governor, I had met with him in Washington. He was serving out his final days as a congressman. In that meeting, he made it clear to me that he was not a friend to the LGBT community. My question to him at the time was simple—was it political or personal? His answer was both. I thanked him: “Congressman, you’ve saved me a lot of time.”
That night, McCain didn’t pick Ridge. It wasn’t until the next day that we heard his decision. In hindsight, Ridge might have been a better choice than Sarah Palin. I’m not sure how the Obama team would have used me, but it’s a testament to how well structured, organized, and disciplined the Obama campaign was in 2008. They had contingency plans for any issue. Ridge, to his credit, went on to support marriage equality in a brief before the US Supreme Court, and of course Barack Obama was elected president.
Chapter 10
Adventures with a Publisher
We drove up to the gate at Fort Indiantown Gap, Pennsylvania, and noticed that it was well guarded. It was one of the detention centers where the administration of President Jimmy Carter housed Cuban immigrants from the 1980 Mariel boatlift, and they were keeping it a secret. Actually, the center was holding prisoners and captives of various types.
I was in the driver’s seat. J.R. Guthrie, our reporter, sat shotgun, with photographer Harry Eberlin in the backseat with an interpreter we’d hired for the day. We were all nervous as we pulled up to a guard.
“Reason for requesting entrance,” he said, stone-faced.
Looking him straight in the eye I replied, “I’m Father Segal, sent by Metropolitan Community Church to talk with the refugees.” He stared at me skeptically, so I added with equal parts seriousness and calm, “It’s my missionary work. We should be on your list of clergy.” I tugged at the clerical collar around my neck and cleared my throat. We were granted entrance.
Father Segal and Philadelphia Gay News became the first media to get inside one of America’s military detention centers in the wake of that 1980 Mariel boatlift. The secret that President Carter had not wanted made public was something we in the LGBT community were well aware of. A great number of gay Cubans—considered “undesirable” by Fidel Castro—were put on those boats to Florida in an attempt to rid the island of homosexuals. Castro thought he’d play a joke on the US, since it was our policy to accept all Cuban refugees.
By June the rumor was spreading in the LGBT community. The State Department ran a quiet campaign to find foster homes for the gays through the Metropolitan Community Church and other church groups. Our military and State Department were not used to dealing with gay men, from Cuba or anywhere else. I smelled a story. J.R. and Harry agreed to come, which surprised me, and I happily put on a black jacket and shirt to look like a priest.
Once we’d gotten inside, instead of checking in, we headed straight to where our source said the gay Cubans would be held. We found two full barracks of gay men, well kept and wearing a hodgepodge of clothing. Our interpreter explained to them that we were from a gay newspaper in Philadelphia, and we began handing out copies of the paper. Few spoke English, and those who did spoke poorly at best, but we got permission to interview and photograph them. I kept watch at the door as J.R. and the interpreter asked questions to as many of them as possible. They talked of their lives back in Cuba; of how the police often raided their homes, imprisoned them, and attacked them with guard dogs. Even when showing us the scars from various abuses and atrocities, they radiated joy at being in the US even if they were in a detention center. Those who’d finished interviewing with us went to another barracks to tell a second group about us. Soon there was almost a party atmosphere as these guys paraded and danced before us with their stories.
The carnival soon drew attention and we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by soldiers. One of the higher-ranking men walked in and asked what we were doing there. By that time J.R. and Harry had hidden the recorder and camera.
“Sir,” I said, “I’m just doing my missionary work for Metropolitan Community Church and I’m sorry if we have caused a ruckus. It seems we’re giving them too much hope.” I extended my hand.
“Father Segal, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He shook my hand. “I think you’ve done enough for today.”
The soldiers showed us back to our car and we drove off the base. Going through that gate was a relief. We were quiet for a few miles, and then we all broke into laughter. Awaiting us when we got back was a message from the general in charge of Fort Indiantown Gap, who had finally discovered our true identities and intentions. When we returned his call, the general demanded the recording and pictures we took. Apparently we were in deep trouble.
Thoughts of Watergate kept dancing in my mind, but I wasn’t about to give in so easily. “General,” I said, “I’m a publisher, and as far as I’m concerned we have a great story. You gave us entrance, we left when you requested. I see no reason not to publish. It’s our First Amendment right.”
He offered a few choice words, more loudly and a tad more threatening, before hanging up with a flair. We published the story on the cover of our August 8, 1980 edition, under the headline, “Meet the Gay Cubans.”
* * *
Nine years later I spent a week in Cuba, traveling there without any prior contacts or government approvals. I did not want propaganda from either side; all I wanted was to report on the actual state of the gay community there.
I had learned from friends who’d visited the country that there was an ice-cream stand in the center of Havana where gay people went to meet up. After walking around for an hour, trying, albeit poorly, to cruise some of the guys, one of them came up to me and started speaking in Spanish. Seeing my confusion, he brought a friend over who spoke English. The two of them wound up being my tour guides for the week. I didn’t tell them I was a reporter, not at first, since I didn’t want to scare them. After a few days I told them the truth, and realized I should have done so from the beginning. They opened their lives to me, just as the men in the barracks had.
On my final night, they took me to a private party on the roof of a four-story walk-up in downtown Havana. We paid a dollar to enter, which I quickly realized guaranteed us all the bathtub rum we could drink. I learned that these parties happened at the same hour several times a week. It was an incredible sea of diversity, both men and women, and like most Cubans they were fairly poor. A
few hours into the party, there was a commotion and people began to scream; some bolted for the exits. I made my way down to the ground floor with my friends, and as we left, I saw policemen pull up and begin to storm the building. After the raid, I watched from a distance as those who didn’t flee the party were carried out and carted away. We returned to my hotel, where I decided to treat my guardians to a good meal.
Fidel Castro later publicly apologized for his government’s discrimination against the LGBT community and treatment of people with HIV/AIDS. His brother Raul is a supporter of LGBT rights, and his niece Mariela has become an international voice on behalf of the cause.
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In the eighties, I tried my hand as a radio talk show host on a small AM station in Philadelphia. WDVT (Delaware Valley Talk) is what is known as a daylighter, which simply meant that according to Federal Communications Commission rules, the station could only operate during daylight hours. The limited hours, plus competing against the other talk radio stations in the city, meant that the station had to do something revolutionary to garner an audience. Hence, GayTalk—the premier commercial gay and two-way talk radio show with your host, Mark Segal.
GayTalk launched on November 1, 1986. Stu Bykofsky, writing in the Philadelphia Daily News, described the show as “sort of a cross between Ralph Nader and Ethel Merman . . . GayTalk will twit heterosexuals, but not bash them.” My first guest ever was Mayor W. Wilson Goode, who pleased me to no end when he said, “I didn’t know what kind of show this was when I agreed to come.” This is the same mayor who just four months later, during a heated reelection bid, appeared in front of a packed crowd at the annual Philadelphia Gay News Lambda Awards ceremony. In the Grand Ballroom of the Warwick Hotel, Philadelphia’s first African American mayor stepped onto the stage to great applause. Wanting the gay audience to appreciate his commitment, he said with excitement, “I’m glad to be here, I’ve come three times.” The audience roared. He meant he had attended the award ceremony three previous times.
Every Saturday afternoon for two hours, GayTalk held court. My format was to interview guests for the first hour and host a community roundtable for the second. Our guest list was surprisingly varied considering the subject matter and the station’s small size. We had visits from politicians, TV personalities, and community leaders. On one particular Saturday we decided to discuss the pope. The Vatican had issued a statement on homosexuality written by one Cardinal Ratzinger, later to become Pope Benedict XVI. The statement declared that homosexuality was intrinsically evil. To which Stanley Ward, managing editor of Philadelphia Gay News, opined: “The pope is just a pimp for those abusive priests.” Being a special-interest show, on a small station in the middle of Saturday afternoon, you might imagine (and you’d be right) that we didn’t receive many calls. Our lines were always open and anyone could get through to us and on the air at almost any time. Once Stanley made that statement, however, the phone lines lit up like the proverbial Hanukkah bush.
Monday morning I heard from the station. While they did not agree with the statements on my show, they felt that speakers had the right to express their views, but in the future I should make it clear that those views were that of the individual, not the station. Several days later the station received a letter from the Anti-Defamation League of B’nai B’rith, supporting the church and asking for an apology on my show.
After I had fully digested the crux of their letter, I wrote back expressing my surprise at their support for an organization that not only has a historical record of oppression against the LGBT community but also the Jewish community. Then I cited the material on sexual abuse of children by priests. In 1986, most were unaware of this rampant abuse; the issue hadn’t yet made it to the mass media. After receiving my reply, B’nai B’rith made no more requests for an apology.
A friend by the name of Wade Alexander began to gather clippings on issues that he thought would make good conversation for my show. I soon noticed that in every packet of clippings there were a number of articles on the papacy, so many that I figured there must be an eleventh commandment just for journalists: Thou shalt not kill a story about His Holiness. Considering the large audience response to our first foray, we soon had a regular feature—the weekly Pope Report.
We constantly corrected the misinformation sent out by the church, like comparing homosexuality to pedophilia, or the attempts to hide various issues that were, at that time, very problematic within their organization. Week after week, we covered the issue of abusive priests, and we made sure that any attempts by the church to denigrate the LGBT community were answered with facts.
As much fun as this was, it was bound to end sooner or later. After two years of being on the air, the station, always on the brink, succumbed to a buyout offer from a company that owned religious tape stations. These were radio stations that played religious shows on tape from various fundamentalists who paid the company for air time, then would plead with their listeners to send in a prayer offering to keep them on the air.
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My friends Bill Davol and Phyllis Furst were running the day-to-day operations and coordination with on-air personalities. When I’d started at Talk 900 I was green to radio. Bill and Phyllis had taken me under their wings and helped me make my show more professional. They loved my energy and applauded the freshness that the show brought to the station. So for my last show they went all out.
My guest was a conservative TV talk show star named Morton Downey Jr., who paved the way for people like Bill O’Reilly and Glenn Beck. I relished the chance to interview a poster child for the right wing. I’d debated many people with his views before and knew what buttons to press. Downey strolled into the studio with a confident air. He was there to promote a new book. My agenda was to get him to tell his followers that he would not accept violence against gays. If possible, I wanted to set him straight on the issue of AIDS; his remarks about the issue were inflaming the nation. An example, which he repeated on my show, was that AIDS wouldn’t be a problem if gays would just learn that God gave us the anus with only one purpose in mind.
As soon as we went on the air the telephone board lit up. Most of the early calls were from Downey’s fans, then an abortion question or two, and then I asked him about AIDS. He started out by using the same gay-baiting language, and tried to tug at heartstrings by talking about his brother who had AIDS. He said he loved him, but often told him that if he had a different lifestyle, he would not be in that position now. He was chain-smoking at the time and I asked him if he’d say the same thing to someone dying of emphysema. He continued on, insisting that he’d do anything for his brother, and you could almost hear tears in his voice. Then we went to a commercial. During the break, I tried to tell him about a new drug that was being tested that might be of help to his brother. He just asked to use the phone and didn’t seem to hear me. When he returned I tried to tell him again, but this time he interrupted me and changed the subject.
The next topic we tackled was violence. It took me some time but I finally got him to say that violence of any type was wrong. Then another break. He told me that while he wasn’t as extreme as he appeared on the air, his act was going strong and if he could stand it for another two years he’d make a couple of million and then blow. He was cancelled in two years, right on target.
The lesson learned was that professional right-wing broadcasters like Downey and Rush Limbaugh, and even the shock jocks like Howard Stern, are more entertainment than enlightenment. They have every advantage by controlling the audio button, that magic ability to just cut someone off. They also have their regular callers and supporters, and they control the commercial break. Those things, no matter how good a speaker you are or how professional, mean that you cannot win a debate on their show unless it is agreed beforehand.
As for Downey, he filed for bankruptcy and would later succumb to lung cancer. These people must be admired for the professional show-biz personalities that they have become. When Howard Stern’s s
how first aired in Philly, his producers did their homework and tried to get local personalities on the air. At one point I was attacked for several days. This was a time to put my ego behind and realize that Stern controlled his own airtime. I didn’t take the bait, and I didn’t become another of his chewed-up guests. Within a few days I was never mentioned again on his show. But one fun episode: In August of 1994 my editor learned that Stern had a twenty-something gay intern for the summer. He assigned our intern, also a twenty-something, to interview Stern’s charge, who arrived with his own public relations representative. That showed the level of control that must be exercised when you’re crafting a media personality.
The one unfortunate fact with television media is that many Americans buy in to the unreality of what they see. Many let the shtick influence how they treat people. Ask any Rush Limbaugh listener about gay issues, and it’s likely they will simply spurt out his views rather than try to form their own. This misinformation is something that the LGBT community combats every day, and is why it’s so important for us to make human connections, talk about the facts, and, whenever the opportunity arises, speak the truth on any relevant or so-called controversial topic. We must protect ourselves as a community, and that includes being able to spread the real word, which is to say, the truth.
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Years later, while sitting at my desk one morning and looking over mountains of paperwork and wondering where to begin, the phone rang and it was the ACLU. They asked if I would be willing to go to jail in order to protect the First Amendment. When I told them I’d gone to jail for less, they perked up and explained COPA.
The Child Online Protection Act was passed by Congress and signed into law by President Bill Clinton in 1998. It was an attempt by Congress to restrict access by minors to online material deemed harmful to them, an attempt to control Internet pornography. They were using pedophiles as a justification for the legislation. Any government official or agency that was offended by something placed on the web could somehow argue that it was harmful to minors and then prosecute.