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We've mentioned a lot of numbers over the past few episodes.
27,000 interviews on the mobile tour, 17,000 interviews in just one day when we released the app.
But story court doesn't just care about numbers.
Because who records interviews is just as important as how many we collect.
If we're building an archive of American voices, we need to make sure that the archive reflects who actually lives here in the US.
So while story court is open to anyone who wants to do an interview,
we've worked hard to make sure that stories and voices that don't often get included in the historical record are captured in the story court archive.
We call these efforts initiatives.
You've heard about one already, story court Rio.
There's been quite a lot, like Estudias or Military Voices or 9-11 Initiative.
We did one for people with memory loss and another inviting immigrants to record.
But on this episode, we're going to focus on just one of the many that we've done.
Our collection of LGBTQ voices, called StoryCore Out Loud.
To be in the service for my country is the great thing I thought I did.
But I was kicked out for being homeless sexual.
When I first came out, they didn't have the words that they have today.
So attempting to tell your extraordinarily loving blue collar parents that you were transgender was tan amounted telling them I was from Jupiter.
We got married at the Veterans' home and we said,
if you came to see the bride, you're out of luck.
Do you remember that?
Yes, of course.
I'm Michael Garoflo.
And I'm Jasmine Morris.
From NPR, this is StoryCore then and now celebrating 20 years of StoryCore.
So we thought if we're telling the story of StoryCore this season,
recording and sharing stories from LGBTQ folks has always been a part of that work.
Why is that built into your fabric as a documentary radio producer and the founder of StoryCore?
It's always been an issue that's close to my heart.
I'm the proud son of a gay dad.
That's Dave, I say.
Jasmine recently sat down with him to talk about the origins of Out Loud.
My dad was named Richard I say.
And he was a psychiatrist and a psychoanalyst. For many years, he saw only gay patients
and was kind of a revolutionary in the psychoanalytic world in saying that homosexuality was not a disease
and advocating in the work he did for helping LGBTQ folks find love.
So that was his mission in life.
I accidentally discovered he was gay when I was 21
and their nuclear family exploded.
Despite many hints and clues, I was taken completely by surprise
and I was really unhappy about a lot of things and confused about a lot of things.
And I withdrew from my dad for a while and it was about that time that I started making radio documentaries.
At some point after my dad came out, he did tell me the story of the Stonewall riots,
which I knew nothing about. And it was just a year or two later that I made my first radio documentary
and I decided to make it on Stonewall.
It was the first oral history of people who had been at Stonewall, believe it or not.
I remember on that night when we saw the riot,
we saw all of us dragons, we think John's, like the Rockettes, and sang the song, we used to sing.
We are the village girls. We wear our hands and girls.
We wear our dog and gorees, our bovarnelies.
And the police went crazy hearing that and they just immediately rushed us.
We gave one kick and three.
A lot of these folks had never been interviewed before about what had happened on that day.
And I was very interested in what life was like before Stonewall.
Sylvia Rivera, who was kind of known as the Rosa Parks of the Stonewall Movement,
came one of my best friends and was the centerpiece of this radio documentary,
which was named Remembering Stonewall and I dedicated to my dad.
There were before Stonewall was a hard era.
There was always the gay basins on the drag queens by heterosexual men, women, and the police.
We learned to live with it because it was part of the life sky at that time, I guess.
And none of us were very happy about it.
And some ways was that you trying to figure out this time in your life where there was a secret,
like life before, your dad coming out?
Yeah, I was very interested to understand what he had gone through.
And once he came out, I had found out things like he had been entrapped in a restroom
and he had to beg the cops not to put his name in the paper and destroy his life.
And he had been a rising star in the world of psychoanalysts.
And that star was completely extinguished the minute he came out.
He was shunned and refused positions.
And he was very moved by the fact that I had made this documentary.
And it was me making an effort to understand him.
And that was the beginning of our rebuilding, our relationship with each other.
Many, many, many years after that, I started story core.
And I guess you could say that there was, you know, something about not being crazy about secrets in our lives
that was part of the motivation behind starting story core,
giving people the chance to say the important things to the people who are most important to us.
And that included Dave.
Here he is talking with his dad in 2004.
What truly was the happiest moment of your life?
I think I am happier now than I've ever been in my life.
So it's the happiness as a continuing process.
How do you want to be remembered?
Where am I going?
I don't think much about that.
You think about dying?
All the time.
Are you scared of dying?
No, I think about not having good times with Gordon anymore.
It's more an absence of that.
What do you think is the most important thing that you've accomplished in your life?
What are you proud of stuff?
I'm very proud of you kids.
I am very proud of the work I've done.
And I am proud of being able to turn my life around and make it into a happy and good one.
Were you unhappy when I was a kid?
No, I think I was happy when you were a kid.
And I was a good father and I loved having kids.
You think I was a good father?
I think you were a good father.
You're still a good father.
My dad got sick in 2012.
On a Friday he was diagnosed with cancer and he died the next week.
He actually died on the anniversary of Stonewall on June 28, 2012.
At the memorial service, I announced that in honor of my dad, we would be recording stories of people who were alive before Stonewall.
And that's who it all began.
And then you know how I am.
I'm like a dog with a piece of steak.
After my dad died, there was no way that this thing wasn't going to get done if it killed me.
And that's the way I guess that I deal with grief or any issues that I just stay focused on story core and get something new done.
I decided come hell or high water, we were going to do this program which we named Out Loud.
It launched in June 2014.
LGBTQ people from all walks of life came in to tell stories of love, loss, resiliency and creativity and family.
So in keeping with Dave's story, we're spending this episode hearing conversations about family.
This first one is set in a small farming town in Washington state where Patrick Haggardy was growing up in the 1950s.
At story core, he told his daughter Robin about something that happened in high school.
There was an assembly that day and Patrick was going to perform.
I'm riding to school with my oldest brother.
And on the way to school, I'm putting glitter all over my face.
And my brother said, what in the hell are you doing?
I said, I'm putting on my costume.
He said, well, I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that.
So he dropped me off at the school and he called my dad up.
And he said, dad, I think you better get up there.
This is not going to look good.
So my dad drove up to the high school.
And he had his farmer jeans on and they had cow crap on him.
And he had his cloud hopper boots on.
And when I saw him coming, I ducked around the hall and hid from him.
And it wasn't because of what I was wearing.
It was because of what he was wearing.
So the assembly goes well and I'm climbing the car and I'm riding home with my father.
And my father says to me, I was walking down the hall this morning and I saw a kid that looked a lot like you ducking around the hall to avoid his dad.
But I know it wasn't you because you would never do that to your dad.
And I squirmed in my seat and I finally busted out and I said, well, dad, did you have to wear your cow crap jeans to my assembly?
And he said, look, everybody knows I'm a dairy farmer.
This is who I am.
And he looked me square in the eye.
And then he said, now how about you when you're a full grown man, who are you going to go out with at night?
And I said, I don't know.
And he said, I think you do know and it's not going to be that Michael Oflangirl has been making Google eyes at you, but you won't even pick up the damn telephone.
And I'm going to tell you something today and you might not know what to think of it now, but you're going to remember when you're an adult, don't sneak because if you sneak like you did today, it means you think you're doing the wrong thing.
And you're running around and spending your whole life thinking that you're doing the wrong thing, then you'll ruin your immortal soul.
And I have all the things.
A father in 1959 could have told his gay son, my father tells me to be proud of myself and not sneak.
My reaction at the time was to get out in the hayfield and pretend like I was as much as a man as I could be. And I remember flipping 50 pound bales, three feet up into the air going, I'm not a queer.
What's he talking about?
But he knew where I was headed.
And he knew that making me feel bad about it in any way was the wrong thing to do.
I had the patron saint of dads for Sissy, so no, I didn't know it at the time, but I know it now.
Patrick Haggardy, remembering his father, Charles Edward Haggardy.
Patrick was the founder of Lavender Country, which he called the world's first openly gay country band. He died in 2022.
How have you seen things change in the way that we talk about and the way we tell stories from the LGBTQ community?
I remember when I did the Stonewall documentary, I was trying to get newspapers to cover it. And I called the major newspaper New York and said, you know, we have this documentary, the first oral history of Stonewall.
Would you like to do a story about it? And they said, we don't do stories about those kinds of people.
I like to think that at StoryCore, we just, you know, whisper trues and people's ears. And what we try and do is find stories that haven't been told before that creep up behind you.
And help you see yourself and someone who you might have thought was very different than you.
And I think we've done that from the first days of StoryCore. So I think, you know, nothing's changed. We just do our best to, you know, help be the vehicle through which people can have their stories told to the world.
More of those stories coming after the break. Stay with us.
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Welcome back. We're listening to conversations from StoryCore out loud. Our initiative to collect and preserve the stories of LGBTQ people across the country.
MJ Citi fell in love in the early 1990s. Her partner had already been married and raised children, even grandchildren.
Which meant that MJ suddenly became a grandma too. Here she is with her 12-year-old granddaughter, Jenna Elprin.
How is your life indifferent and what you thought it was going to be?
I thought that my life was probably not one that was going to be worth living. There was this whole that I had all of my life because I never thought I'd be able to walk along the beach and hold somebody's hand because I'm gay.
But when I fell in love with my mommy, I knew that she was my soulmate. Do you know what I mean by that?
Yeah.
I had never felt that way about anyone before. And after she had gotten her divorce from Grandpa Jim, she was very upfront with your mom.
She told your mom she was in love and it was with a woman. And that was the first time that anyone was proud to say
that they loved me. That made me the happiest I'd ever been in my life. And then when I got to know your mom and Uncle Justin, I knew that I had hit paradise because I now have a family that I can wrap my arms around.
Is there anything that you've never told me that you want to tell me now?
You know, you and I talk about most things. But this is the first time that we've ever talked about the fact that I'm gay. And I guess what I want to ask you is does it embarrass you to have a gay grandma?
No.
It doesn't really matter because it just matters my relationship with you.
I always tell you how much I love you, but I don't know that you can really understand the depth of it because you're someone that I never thought would be in my life. And I can't imagine my life without you.
You have always been a child that makes up her own mind. And I am so, so proud of you.
Well, here, one of my favorite grandma's. You do like a lot of things with me like red roller coasters and playblogger.
I don't know what life would be like without you here.
I love you sweetheart.
I love you too.
Well, it's not just about the fact that I love you.
Do you remember when things really changed for you?
We went to a camp and I met three best friends Luke, Brock and Cooper. They were all transgender like me. So they all wanted to be boys.
Brock taught me how to pee standing up.
And that was huge for you, right? Yeah, that's why I said we're bros. We know each other.
It was pretty cool to see you guys together. Yeah.
Do you ever get scared about what it's going to be like to grow up transgender?
I've been wondering if when I'm older, a lot of people try to hurt me or something.
Or if they find out that you were born a girl and they have a problem with it, you think that they might try to hurt you in some way.
Yeah.
Were you ever worried about telling me that you were transgender?
Yes.
Did you ever try to tell me and then change your mind?
How many times do you think?
Think like four times.
Four times.
I was worried that you liked me as a girl.
Because we used to have a lot of fun.
Do we still have fun?
So it doesn't really matter if you're a boy or a girl, right?
Yeah.
I didn't know that you were dealing with that on your own.
If I'd known, I would have tried a little bit harder to have that conversation with you and maybe start it myself.
Do you worry about me?
I worry about how other people might treat you and it makes me upset to think about what you might have to go through.
You amaze me every day.
You can tell me anything, anytime, anywhere, and it won't change how much I love you.
I'll always have your back.
Thank you, Mom.
That conversation was recorded on our mobile tour in 2015.
Just this year, Gabe, who is now 16 years old, came back for another conversation.
This time with his dad, Julio.
Did you ever feel jealous that it was my friends who told me how to be standing up?
No, I don't think so.
But I was like, that takes some talent to be able to do that.
When I first talked to you guys about how I felt, I was young, obviously, but I didn't know the consequences that people can have for coming out to their parents.
We always thought it was just kind of a phase and we told you that, right?
I remember saying that to you because it happened with my sister.
My sister was a very tomboyish hanging out with the boys.
But I noticed something different in you.
When you came out to us, it caught us by surprise, but it wasn't a big surprise.
You know what I mean?
I was really happy that you guys were super supportive because I know that not many kids get that.
We've always loved you, no matter what.
Like one of the pictures that I cherish, you were in a dress holding a toy gun and your Hulk shoes.
And I mean, even though that time was still kind of difficult for you, I saw who Gabe was and who he was going to become in the future.
I'm always going to be able to cherish that.
How would you describe yourself today?
I'm really trying to up my art game so I can be a tattoo artist.
I bought you a tattoo gun and then told you, I can be your test dummy if you want to do that.
And I love it because for your first tattoo on a person, they came out really good.
What kind of man do you want to be?
The kind of man that can help others see different viewpoints and not specifically that they have to agree with that side, but they acknowledge that it's there.
What are your hopes for me?
I want you to be happy.
When I leave here, I want you to be okay.
That's all I'm wanting for you.
I don't think we have any idea what these stories, what this kind of collection of the wisdom of humanity is going to mean a hundred years from now.
But it's a way to pass wisdom from one generation to the next.
And it shows the best in us.
And that's one of those lessons of story core just reminds us of the fundamental goodness of humanity.
And we have to trust in that, especially when we go through rough times like we're going through today.
But that's the lesson going back to Stonewall and Sylvia Rivera and the heroes who fought on that night that you just can't give up.
And I do believe the good wins in the end.
This episode was produced by Judd Este Kendall and Jasmine Morris with Max Young Rice, Von Diaz and Kayla Latamore.
Our technical director is Jared Floyd.
Artwork for this episode was created by Liz McCarty, special thanks to Katie Simon and Nadia Raymond.
For more on story core's initiatives and to hear the rest of Dave Isay's documentary, Remembering Stonewall, go to our website, storycore.org.
While you're there, find out how to record your own conversation.
I'm Michael Garofalo.
And I'm Jasmine Morris. Thanks for listening.
Support for this podcast comes from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, a private corporation funded by the American people.
