So I was reading my XY’s when I came across this story… It’s from Andrew McGeehan, or “Purple Shirt Boy”. Alot of you probably remember this night… I wasn’t there that night though, I had just moved up to camp that same day…..
It was June 1st and I couldn’t have been happier. Not only was it the last day of school but I also got a HUGE paycheck and I was looking exceptionally
good in my friends’ clothes. My best friend Tony and I decided to pull an all-nighter to celebrate school ending. We were going to go everywhere and fo
everything, with other friends of course.
Our night began at Buce di Beppo’s, an Italian restaurant. We sat outside, awaiting the arrival of our friends Paige, Katie and Erin. When they got there,
we all ate and had a good time. We were all craving coffee, so we chose to head to Java Joes, the local coffeehouse, located downtown. While there, we met
a gorgeous boy named Dana. To my extreme disappointment, he was taken. But oh well. We found out that he and his friends were heading down to the gay
loop, which is a plave for all the gay youth in the area to hang out. It is just a straught road that you park on and get out to talk with people. Of
course, we told him that we were also heading down there.
That was a decidion we all came to regret.
Not too much was happening down there. Paige and I tested our courage by taking a picture with the old white van inhabited by a peculiar old man. The van
had not left the lok in years. Then we were dancing and talking and having a good time.
I saw headlights and figured more people were coming to join the fun. Turns out it was a car full of dumb whores, who yelled out “faggots” as they drove
by. Well, this didn’t fly too well with anyone down there. When they drove by a second time, someone threw an empty bottle that shattered on their car.
Apparently that really pissed them off.
Subsequently, about 20 minutes late, a bunch of cars came driving past all at once. A bunch of guys got out of each car and it was obvious they were quite
angry. I wasn’t too scared until they went to the trunk and pulled out baseball bats, the kind you kill gay people with.
I could hardly beleive that I saw. It wasn’t long before the yelling began. They demanded to know who had thrown the bottle. Of course, no one condessed.
So they began accusing. The girls told them it was a relatively tall guy with long sleeves. Considering it was a rather cold night, that described just
about everyone down there. As one boy came near, Paige, Erin and I huddles close together. He persister to ask how long we had been there. We lied and
said we had just got there about 0 minutes ago. They seemed to fing that an acceptable answer, and they walked away for the time being.
Now I can’t remember exactly how this happened, but suddenly I was alone. Paige, Erin, Katie, and Tony were standing about 300 feet away. Later, they told
me they thought I was with them. I would’ve ran to them, but between me and them were a bunch of “straight” guys with bats. So I just looked around,
attempting to look innocent.
It wasn’t long before that stopped working. A boy came up to me (batless, thank god) and began to yell at me. He said he knew it was me–I was the fag who
wrecked his friends car. To make matters worse, he pushed me a couple of times. He kept advancing toward me, which forced me to move back.
I wanted to break down and cry. For fear that it would make them more agitated, I controlled myself. I held my ground and told him I didn’t know what he
was talking about–that I wasn’t the one who did it. Of course, he ignored me and continued on with his bombardment of insults. Looking for a way out, I
turned my head and came face-to-face with two boys holding bats.
At this point, I figured it was over. I was going to die for being gay. The fear within me was tremendous. I thought my chest was going to explode. I
blocked everything out, closed my eyes, and prepared for the worst.
Instead of immense pain I was expecting, I heard a voice. A voice telling them to go away from me, and that I didn’t do anything. I opened my eyes and saw
a man stanging before me. I had never seen him before, but I thanked God for him. The boy who had been insulting me now turned his attention to this
mysterious stranger.
I glanced over and saw my friends staring in shocked horror. I saw this as my chance to escape. I walked toward them, with my head down, trying to look
inconspicuous. It seemed to take forever, but I made it to my friends. We all linked arms and moved toward our car. We peeled our and turned around just
in time to see some of the boys chasing after us with bats. But being that we were in a car and they were on foor, they soon gave up.
I sat in the back seat and just cried. I was so shocked and hurt and upset. Although I know gay people are beaten every day, I could hardly beleive it had
happened. My friends apologized profusely for leaving me alone. We parked after awhile, got out, and hugged.
I was still sobbing uncontrolably. It upset me to think that the way I choose to live my life was so offensive to other people. The whole experience was a
real eye-opener to that fact that gay-bashing is still rampant in our country.
I had previously thought that nothing would happen to me because I live in the Midwest; but it can happen to anyone, anywhere. Needless to say, I have not
been down to the look since that night. I would rather spend my night having fun with my friends somewhere else, then go down there and worry about
whether I’ll survive or not.
–Andrew McGreehan (Also known as “Purple Shirt Boy”)