San Antonio, Texas – a city steeped in military tradition and vibrant culture. But beneath the surface of its storied history lies a lesser-known, yet incredibly vital, chapter: the courageous fight of its queer community against pervasive discrimination, particularly from the U.S. military, during a pivotal era in LGBTQ+ history. While the Stonewall Riots often dominate narratives of resistance, the struggles in places like San Antonio paint a more nuanced, deeply human picture of survival and defiance in America's heartland.
Imagine the mid-1970s. The echo of Stonewall was still resonating, but the broader fight for LGBTQ+ equality was far from won. For many, especially in the South and non-coastal urban centers, life was a delicate balance of community building and navigating societal persecution. In San Antonio, a city with a significant military presence, gay establishments served as vital sanctuaries. These weren't just bars; they were community hubs, places where individuals could find solace, connection, and a fleeting sense of belonging.
At the heart of this struggle was a legendary discothèque known as the San Antonio Country. Far more than just a dance floor, the Country became a focal point for the city's diverse queer community. It offered a space for expression and camaraderie, attracting a wide array of patrons, including many off-duty military personnel seeking an escape from the rigid strictures of their service.
However, this sanctuary soon became a target. The U.S. military, operating under policies that classified homosexuality as grounds for discharge, viewed these establishments with suspicion. Military Police (MPs) began to harass and surveil bars like the San Antonio Country, attempting to declare them "off-limits" for service members. Placement on such a list wasn't just a blow to a business; it was a direct threat to the safety and careers of military personnel who frequented these spaces, risking investigation and potential expulsion from service.
But the owners of the San Antonio Country, Don Veltman and Gene Elder, were not ones to back down quietly. In an extraordinary act of defiance for its time, they launched a legal challenge against the military's harassment. What ensued was a series of military tribunals in 1974 and 1975 that would become a landmark moment in San Antonio's queer history.
This wasn't just a battle for a business; it was a subtle, yet powerful, assertion of fundamental human rights within a hostile legal landscape.
Their legal strategy was ingenious and indicative of the complex realities of the era. Instead of directly arguing for the rights of homosexuals – an argument unlikely to succeed in a military court of the mid-70s – Veltman and Elder, with the help of their lawyers, argued that the "off-limits" designation and subsequent harassment infringed upon their economic rights. They presented evidence of their legitimate business ties, including potential membership in the San Antonio Chamber of Commerce and the Texas Restaurant Association, positioning the Country as a reputable establishment.
The transcripts from these tribunals reveal the absurd lengths to which military officials went to "prove" the club catered to homosexuals. In one instance, an MP was questioned on how he could discern the gender of individuals embracing on a couch, "dressed as women." Such testimony underscored the prejudice and lack of understanding underlying the military's actions. While the San Antonio Country was never officially placed on the "off-limits" list due to these legal challenges, the harassment, sadly, continued intermittently for years.
The story of the San Antonio Country culminated in its eventual sale to Valero Energy Corporation, which now occupies the site of the former club. However, Don Veltman's legacy of resistance continued. With funds from the sale, he went on to open another iconic establishment: the Bonham Exchange. This legendary nightclub, housed in a historic building, remains a vibrant center for San Antonio's LGBTQ+ community to this day, a testament to the enduring spirit sparked by Veltman and Elder's earlier fight.
Gene Elder, a manager at the Country and later a tireless archivist, played a crucial role in preserving this history. He meticulously saved the tribunal transcripts, envisioning them one day inspiring a play or documentary. His dedication to the preservation of queer history led him to establish the Happy GLBT Archive, a priceless repository of San Antonio's often-overlooked LGBTQ+ past. Elder, who passed away in 2017, remained a vocal advocate for social justice, his life a testament to decades of fighting for equal rights.
While the courage of figures like Veltman and Elder is undeniable, it's crucial to acknowledge the limitations and biases inherent in historical narratives. Many accounts of the San Antonio Country and the broader queer experience of the era predominantly stem from oral histories of white, largely male elders. This leaves significant gaps concerning the experiences of queer people of color – particularly Latinx and Black individuals – and non-male queer individuals in San Antonio, a city that has been majority Hispanic since the 1950s.
The narratives often reinforce a misconception that Latinx communities are inherently more conservative or anti-gay. However, heterosexist patriarchy exists across all racial and ethnic groups. Future historical work must prioritize seeking out and amplifying the voices and experiences of these often-marginalized communities, ensuring a more complete and accurate understanding of queer urban life in the American South.
The struggles faced by San Antonio's gay bars and their patrons in the 1970s are more than just historical footnotes. They illuminate the profound importance of community spaces in the face of adversity and the clever strategies adopted by marginalized groups for survival. They remind us that the fight for LGBTQ+ rights was, and continues to be, waged on countless fronts, in cities big and small, often by ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
The resilience demonstrated by the San Antonio queer community, embodied in the legacy of establishments like the San Antonio Country and the enduring Bonham Exchange, serves as a powerful reminder of how far we've come, and how much work remains. It underscores the vital need to preserve and celebrate all facets of LGBTQ+ history, ensuring that the diverse voices and struggles of the past continue to inform and inspire the pursuit of a more equitable future.
This hidden history is a testament to the power of community, the courage of individuals, and the relentless pursuit of dignity. It's a story that deserves to be told, remembered, and honored for generations to come.