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+{"text":" \nThank you for downloading this Simon & Schuster eBook.\n\n* * *\n\nJoin our mailing list and get updates on new releases, deals, bonus content and other great books from Simon & Schuster.\n\nCLICK HERE TO SIGN UP\n\nor visit us online to sign up at  \neBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com\n\n## Contents\n\nThe Path of the Flood - Map\n\nPennsylvania - Map\n\nAcknowledgments\n\nList of Illustrations\n\nEpigraph\n\nI. The sky was red\n\nII. Sailboats on the mountain\n\nIII. \"There's a man came from the lake.\"\n\nIV. Rush of the torrent\n\nV. \"Run for your lives!\"\n\nVI. A message from Mr. Pitcairn\n\nVII. In the valley of death\n\nVIII. \"No pen can describe . . .\"\n\nIX. \"Our misery is the work of man.\"\n\nPhotographs\n\nAbout David McCullough\n\nList of Victims\n\nBibliography\n\nIndex\nFor Rosalee\n\n## Acknowledgments\n\nThe material for this book was gathered from the files of newspapers, from unpublished reminiscences, from letters and diaries, from Johnstown Flood \"histories\" that were best sellers in their day and from books and pamphlets that were privately printed, from court records, engineering reports, local histories, and rare old maps, from old photographs, and from hours of taped conversations with survivors of the Johnstown Flood.\n\nA bibliography is included at the back of the book, but I want to acknowledge my indebtedness to four works in particular: J. J. McLaurin's The Story of Johnstown, which for all its Victorian embellishments and inaccuracies is the finest by far of the books \"gotten up\" by journalists in 1889; The Reverend David J. Beale's Through the Johnstown Flood, in many ways the best book on the flood and unquestionably the best-written and most reliable of accounts by survivors; A History of Johnstown and the Great Flood of 1889: A Study of Disaster and Rehabilitation, which is a doctoral thesis written by the late Nathan D. Shappee and the only scholarly study of the disaster; and a recently discovered transcription of testimony taken by the Pennsylvania Railroad during the summer of 1889, which has been invaluable. (Most of the dialogue in Chapters 3 and , for example, has been taken directly from this transcription, which, in all, runs to nearly 500 typewritten pages, and no part of which has been previously published.)\n\nI very gratefully acknowledge my debt to the following flood survivors who kindly gave me so much of their time to talk about their experiences, some of whom have since passed on: Mrs. Kate Miltenberger, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Hesselbein, and David Fetterman, all of Johnstown; U. Ed Schwartzentruver of South Fork; Mrs. Gertrude Quinn Slattery of Wilkes-Barre, who also read the manuscript; and Dr. Victor Heiser of New York, who, in addition to vivid descriptions of his own experiences, supplied wonderful insights into the Johnstown of the 1880's, and who read the manuscript.\n\nI am grateful also to the two Johnstown ladies, both survivors, who shared memories of their illustrious family, but who asked that I not mention their names.\n\nI wish to thank too the many others in Johnstown who were helpful, and especially the following: Irving London, who led me to the Pennsylvania Railroad testimony and who made available his extraordinary collection of flood photographs; Harold Strayer; Gustaf Hultman of the National Park Service; Elit Felix; Walter Krebs, president of the Johnstown Tribune-Democrat, who made available the paper's reference library and files; Don Matthews, Jr., also of the Tribune-Democrat, who made numerous helpful suggestions; Frank Dell and Ron Stephenson of Station WJAC; the City Clerk's office; and the staff of the Cambria Public Library.\n\nIn addition, I am much indebted to Edna Lehman, who made available important documentary material at the Cambria County Historical Society at Ebensburg; to the late Robert Heppenstall of Pittsburgh, for information on his father's heroic action; to Mrs. John E. Hannon, Sr., of Detroit, who wrote to me at length about her grandfather, W. Horace Rose; to Mrs. Bernard McGuire of Cresson, who let me borrow a diary kept by her grandfather, Isador Lilly of Ebensburg; to Dr. Philip Bishop, Dr. John White, and Donald Berkebile of the Smithsonian Institution; to Mr. and Mrs. Fred Livengood, Sr., of Somerset; to the late Mrs. O. C. Gaub of Pittsburgh; to Evan Stineman of South Fork; and to Al Danel of St. Michael, Pennsylvania.\n\nAlso I wish to express my gratitude for the facilities offered by the staff of the Pennsylvania Room at the Carnegie Library, Pittsburgh; the Allegheny County Court of Claims, Pittsburgh; the Local History and Genealogy Room at the New York Public Library; the New York Historical Society; the Library of Congress; the University of Pennsylvania; the University of Pittsburgh; the Yale University Library; the White Plains Public Library; and the Boston Public Library.\n\nAnd for their suggestions and encouragement I wish finally to thank Walter McQuade, Walter Lord, Roger Butterfield, David Plowden, Heywood Broun, Jr., David Allison, Frank Fogarty, James Morrison, Royall O'Brien, Charles T. Siebert, Jr.; Audre Proctor, who typed the manuscript; my mother and father; and my wife, Rosalee.\n\nD. McC.\n\n## List of Illustrations\n\nMap of Johnstown at time of Civil War\n\nView of South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club\n\nMoorhead house\n\nJohn G. Parke, Jr.\n\nRemains of South Fork dam\n\nAndrew Carnegie\n\nHenry Clay Frick\n\nPhilander C. Knox\n\nRobert Pitcairn\n\nDaniel J. Morrell\n\nJohn Fulton\n\nTom L. Johnson\n\nCaptain Bill Jones\n\nTwo views of Johnstown\u2014before and after the flood\n\nWreckage near the Methodist church\n\nSchultz house\n\nDebris and \"corpse\"\n\nDevastation in lower Johnstown\n\nPennsylvania Railroad bridge\n\nView of the Point\n\nGertrude Quinn\n\nVictor Heiser\n\nRichard Harding Davis\n\nClara Barton\n\nSurvivors of the flood\n\nRelief rations\n\nAdams Street schoolhouse\u2014temporary morgue\n\nThe broken dam\n\nRelief commissary\n\nSearching among the dead\n\nHappy reunions\n\nLynch law\n\nGrandview Cemetery\n\"We are creatures of the moment; we live from one little space to another; and only one interest at a time fills these.\"\n\n\u2014William Dean Howells\n\nin A Hazard of New Fortunes, 1889.\n\n## I\n\n## The sky was red\n\n### -1-\n\nAgain that morning there had been a bright frost in the hollow below the dam, and the sun was not up long before storm clouds rolled in from the southeast.\n\nBy late afternoon a sharp, gusty wind was blowing down from the mountains, flattening the long grass along the lakeshore and kicking up tiny whitecaps out in the center of the lake. The big oaks and giant hemlocks, the hickories and black birch and sugar maples that crowded the hillside behind the summer colony began tossing back and forth, creaking and groaning. Broken branches and young leaves whipped through the air, and at the immense frame clubhouse that stood at the water's edge, halfway among the cottages, blue wood smoke trailed from great brick chimneys and vanished in fast swirls, almost as though the whole building, like a splendid yellow ark, were under steam, heading into the wind.\n\nThe colony was known as the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club. It was a private summer resort located on the western shore of a mountain lake in Cambria County, Pennsylvania, about halfway between the crest of the Allegheny range and the city of Johnstown. On the afternoon of Thursday, May 30, Memorial Day, 1889, the club was not quite ten years old, but with its gaily painted buildings, its neat lawns and well-tended flower beds, it looked spanking new and, in the gray, stormy half-light, slightly out of season.\n\nIn three weeks, when the summer season was to start, something like 200 guests were expected. Now the place looked practically deserted. The only people about were a few employees who lived at the clubhouse and some half dozen members who had come up from Pittsburgh for the holiday. D. W. C. Bidwell was there; so were the young Clarke brothers, J. J. Lawrence, and several of the Sheas and Irwins. Every now and then a cottage door slammed, voices called back and forth from the boathouses. Then there would be silence again, except for the sound of the wind.\n\nSometime not long after dark, it may have been about eight thirty, a young man stepped out onto the long front porch at the clubhouse and walked to the railing to take a look at the weather. His name was John G. Parke, Jr. He was clean-shaven, slight of build, and rather aristocratic-looking. He was the nephew and namesake of General John G. Parke, then superintendent of West Point. But young Parke was a rare item in his own right for that part of the country; he was a college man, having finished three years of civil engineering at the University of Pennsylvania. For the present he was employed by the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club as the so-called \"resident engineer.\" He had been on the job just short of three months, seeing to general repairs, looking after the dam, and supervising a crew of some twenty Italian laborers who had been hired to install a new indoor plumbing system, and who were now camped out of sight, back in the woods.\n\nIn the pitch dark he could hardly see a thing, so he stepped down the porch stairs and went a short distance along the boardwalk that led through the trees to the cottages. The walk, he noticed, was slightly damp. Apparently, a fine rain had fallen sometime while he was inside having his supper. He also noticed that though the wind was still up, the sky overhead was not so dark as before; indeed, it seemed to be clearing off some. This was not what he had expected. Windstorms on the mountain nearly always meant a heavy downpour almost immediately after\u2014\"thunder-gusts\" the local men called them. Parke had been through several already in the time he had been at the lake and knew what to expect.\n\nIt would be as though the whole sky were laying siege to the burly landscape. The rain would drum down like an unyielding river. Lightning would flash blue-white, again and again across the sky, and thunderclaps would boom back and forth down the valley like a cannonade, rattling every window along the lakeshore.\n\nThen, almost as suddenly as it had started, the siege would lift, and silent, milky steam would rise from the surface of the water and the rank smell of the sodden forest floor would hang on in the air for hours.\n\nTonight, however, it appeared there was to be no storm. Parke turned and walked back inside. About nine-thirty he went upstairs, climbed into bed, and went to sleep.\n\nAbout an hour and a half later, very near eleven, the rain began. It came slamming through the blackness in huge wind-driven sheets, beating against the clubhouse, the tossing trees, the lake, and the dark, untamed country that stretched off in every direction for miles and miles.\n\nThe storm had started out of Kansas and Nebraska, two days before, on May 28. The following day there had been hard rains in Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Michigan, Indiana, Kentucky, and Tennessee. Trains had been delayed, roads washed out. In Kansas, along the Cottonwood River, a dozen farms had been flattened by tornado-force winds and several people had been killed. In northern Michigan and parts of Indiana there had been sudden snow squalls. Warnings had been telegraphed east. On the night of the 29th the U.S. Signal Service issued notices that the Middle Atlantic states were in for severe local storms. On the morning of May 30 all stations in the area reported \"threatening weather.\"\n\nWhen the storm struck western Pennsylvania it was the worst downpour that had ever been recorded for that section of the country. The Signal Service called it the most extensive rainfall of the century for so large an area and estimated that from six to eight inches of rain fell in twenty-four hours over nearly the entire central section. On the mountains there were places where the fall was ten inches.\n\nBut, at the same time, there were astonishing disparities between the amount of rainfall at places within less than a hundred-mile radius. At the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, for example, a pail left outside overnight would have five inches of water in it the next morning when the rain was still coming down. The total rainfall at the clubhouse would be somewhere near seven inches. In Pittsburgh, just sixty-five miles to the west as the crow flies, the total rainfall would be only one and a half inches.\n\nBut as the storm beat down on the mountain that night, John G. Parke, Jr., who would turn twenty-three in less than a month, slept on, never hearing a thing.\n\n### -2-\n\nMost of the holiday crowds were back from the cemetery by the time the rain began Thursday afternoon. It had been the customary sort of Memorial Day in Johnstown, despite the weather.\n\nPeople had been gathering along Main Street since noon. With the stores closed until six, with school out, and the men off from the mills, it looked as though the whole town was turning out. Visitors were everywhere, in by special trains from Somerset, Altoona, and other neighboring towns. The Ancient Order of Hibernians, \"a stalwart, vigorous looking body of men,\" as the Johnstown Tribune described them, was stopping over for its annual state convention. Hotels were full and the forty-odd saloons in Johnstown proper were doing a brisk business.\n\nThe Reverend H. L. Chapman, who lived two doors off Main, in the new Methodist parsonage facing the park, later wrote, \"The morning was delightful, the city was in its gayest mood, with flags, banners and flowers everywhere . . . we could see almost everything of interest from our porch. The streets were more crowded than we had ever seen before.\"\n\nThe parade, late starting as always, got under way about two-thirty, marched up Main, past the Morrell place, on by the Presbyterian Church and the park, clear to Bedford Street. There it turned south and headed out along the river to Sandy Vale, where the war dead were buried. The fire department marched, the Morrellville Odd Fellows, the Austrian Music Society, the Hornerstown Drum Corps, the Grand Army Veterans, and the Sons of Veterans, and half a dozen or more other groups of various shapes and sizes, every one of them getting a big cheer, and especially the Grand Army men, several of whom were beginning to look as though the three-mile tramp was a little more than they were up to.\n\nHow much things had changed since they had marched off to save the Union! It had been nearly thirty years since Lincoln had first called for volunteers. Grant and Lee were both dead, and there were strapping steelworkers with thick, black mustaches standing among the crowds along Main Street who had been born since Appomattox.\n\nAt the start of the war Johnstown had been no more than a third the size it was now; and ten years before that, it had been nothing but a sleepy little canal town with elderbushes growing high along Main, and so quiet you could hear the boat horns before the barges cleared the bend below town.\n\nBut ever since the war, with the west opening up, the Cambria Iron Company had had its giant three-ton converters going night and day making steel for rails and barbed wire, plowshares, track bolts, and spring teeth for harrows. The valley was full of smoke, and the city clanked and whistled and rumbled loud enough to be heard from miles off. At night the sky gleamed so red it looked as though the whole valley were on fire. James Quinn, one of Johnstown's most distinguished-looking Grand Army veterans and its leading dry-goods merchant, enjoyed few sights more. \"The sure sign of prosperity,\" he called it.\n\nYears after, Charlie Schwab, the most flamboyant of Carnegie's men, described the view of Johnstown from his boyhood home in the mountain town of Loretto, nearly twenty miles to the northeast.\n\n\"Along toward dusk tongues of flame would shoot up in the pall around Johnstown. When some furnace door was opened the evening turned red. A boy watching from the rim of hills had a vast arena before him, a place of vague forms, great labors, and dancing fires. And the murk always present, the smell of the foundry. It gets into your hair, your clothes, even your blood.\"\n\nMost of the men watching the parade that Memorial Day would have taken a somewhat less romantic view. In the rolling mills they worked under intense heat on slippery iron floors where molten metal went tearing by and one false step or slow reaction could mean horrible accidents. Most of them worked a ten- or even twelve-hour day, six days a week, and many weeks they worked the hated \"long turn,\" which meant all day Sunday and on into Monday. If they got ten dollars for a week's work they were doing well.\n\nA visiting journalist in 1885 described Johnstown as \"new, rough, and busy, with the rush of huge mills and factories and the throb of perpetually passing trains.\" The mills were set just below town in the gap in the mountains where the Conemaugh River flows westward. On the hillside close to the mills the trees had turned an evil-looking black and grew no leaves.\n\nJohnstown of 1889 was not a pretty place. But the land around it was magnificent. From Main Street, a man standing among the holiday crowds could see green hills, small mountains, really, hunching in close on every side, dwarfing the tops of the houses and smokestacks.\n\nThe city was built on a nearly level flood plain at the confluence of two rivers, down at the bottom of an enormous hole in the Alleghenies. A visitor from the Middle West once commented, \"Your sun rises at ten and sets at two,\" and it was not too great an exaggeration.\n\nThe rivers, except in spring, appeared to be of little consequence. The Little Conemaugh and Stony Creek, or the Stony Creek, as everyone in Johnstown has always said (since it is the Stony Creek River), are both more like rocky, oversized mountain streams than rivers. They are about sixty to eighty yards wide. Normally their current is very fast; in spring they run wild. But on toward August, as one writer of the 1880's said, there are places on either river where a good jumper could cross on dry stones.\n\nThe Little Conemaugh, which is much the swifter of the two, rushes in from the east, from the Allegheny Mountain. It begins near the very top of the mountain, about eighteen miles from Johnstown, at a coal town called Lilly. Its sources are Bear Rock Run and Bear Creek, Trout Run, Bens Creek, Laurel Run, South Fork Creek, Clapboard Run and Saltlick Creek. From an elevation of 2,300 feet at Lilly, the Little Conemaugh drops 1,147 feet to Johnstown.\n\nThe Stony Creek flows in from the south. It is a broader, deeper river than the other and is fed by streams with names like Beaver Dam Run, Fallen Timber Run, Shade Creek, and Paint Creek. Its total drainage is considerably more than that of the Little Conemaugh, and until 1889 it had always been thought to be the more dangerous of the two.\n\nWhen they meet at Johnstown, the rivers form the Conemaugh, which, farther west, joins the Loyalhanna to form the Kiskiminetas, which in turn flows into the Allegheny about eighteen miles above Pittsburgh.\n\nAt Johnstown it was as though the bottom had dropped out of the old earth and left it angry and smoldering, while all around, the long, densely forested ridges, \"hogbacks\" they were called, rolled off in every direction like a turbulent green sea. The climb up out of the city took the breath right out of you. But on top it was as though you had entered another world, clean, open, and sweet-smelling.\n\nIn 1889 there were still black bear and wildcats on Laurel Hill to the west of town. Though the loggers had long since stripped the near hills, there were still places within an hour's walk from Main Street where the forest was not much different than it had been a hundred years before.\n\nNow and then an eagle could still be spotted high overhead. There were pheasants, ruffed grouse, geese, loons, and wild turkeys that weighed as much as twenty pounds. Plenty of men marching in the parade could remember the time before the war when there had been panthers in the mountains big enough to carry off a whole sheep. And it had been only a few years earlier when passenger pigeons came across the valley in numbers beyond belief. One January the Tribune wrote: \"On Saturday there were immense flocks of wild pigeons flying over town, but yesterday it seemed as if all the birds of this kind at present in existence throughout the entire country were engaged in gyrating around overhead. One flock was declared to be at least three miles in length by half a mile wide.\"\n\nStill, many days there were in the valley itself when the wind swept away the smoke and the acrid smell of the mills and the air was as good as a man could ask for. Many nights, and especially in winter, were the way mountain nights were meant to be, with millions of big stars hanging overhead in a sky the color of coal.\n\nLooking back, most of the people who would remember Johnstown as it was on that Memorial Day claimed it was not as unpleasant a place as one might imagine. \"People were poor, very poor by later standards,\" one man said, \"but they didn't know it.\" And there was an energy, a vitality to life that they would miss in later years.\n\nMany of the millworkers lived in cheap, pine-board company houses along the riverbanks, where, as the Tribune put it, \"Loud and pestiferous stinks prevail.\" But there were no hideous slums, such as had spread across the Lower East Side of New York or in Chicago and Pittsburgh. The kind of appalling conditions that would be described the next year by Jacob Riis in his How the Other Half Lives did not exist then in Johnstown. No one went hungry, or begging, though there were always tramps about, drifters, who came with the railroad, heading west nearly always, knocking at back doors for something to eat.\n\nThey were part of the landscape and people took them for granted, except when they started coming through in big numbers and there were alarming stories in the papers about crowds of them hanging around the depot.\n\nOne diary, kept by a man who lived outside of town, includes a day-by-day tramp count. \"Wednesday, May 1, 1889, Two Tramps . . . Thursday, May 2, Two Tramps,\" and so on, with nearly a tramp or two every day, week after week.\n\nNew people came to town, found a job or, if not, moved on again, toward Pittsburgh. But for most everyone who decided to stay there was work. Although lately, Johnstown men, too, had been picking up and going west to try their luck at the mills in St. Louis or the mines in Colorado. And lately the jobs they left behind were being filled by \"hunkies\" brought in to \"work cheap.\"\n\nThe idea did not please people much. Nor did it matter whether the contract workers were Italians, Poles, Hungarians, Russians, or Swedes; they were all called Hungarians, \"bohunks\" or \"hunkies.\" But so far, and again unlike the big cities, Johnstown had only a few such men, and most of them lived in Cambria City, just down the river, beyond the new stone bridge that carried the main line of the Pennsylvania across the Conemaugh.\n\nThe vast majority of the people who lined Main Street watching the parade were either Irish, Scotch-Irish, or Cornish (Cousin Jacks, they were called), German or Welsh, with the Germans and the Welsh greatly outnumbering all the rest. There were some Negroes, but not many, and a few of the leading merchants were Jews.\n\nThe Germans and the Welsh had been the first settlers. More of them, plus the Scotch-Irish, had come along soon after to work in the mines and first forges. Quite a few of the big Irishmen in the crowd had come in originally to build the railroad, then stayed on. Johnstown had been an active stop along the Underground Railroad, and a few of the Negroes had come in that way. Others of them came later to work in the tannery.\n\nThere were German and Welsh churches in town, a German newspaper, and several Irish fortunetellers. Welsh and German were spoken everywhere, along with enough other brogues, burrs, and twangs to make a \"plain American\" feel he was in a country of \"feriners,\" or so it often seemed.\n\nThe first white settlers in the valley had been Solomon and Samuel Adams and their sister Rachael, who came over the Allegheny Mountains from Bedford about 1771 and cleared a patch of land near the Stony Creek. Until then the place had been known as Conemack Old Town, after a Delaware Indian village that stood about where the Memorial Day parade had gathered that noon at the foot of Main.\n\nSamuel Adams and an Indian killed each other in a knife fight, and the traditional story is that Rachael was also killed by Indians soon after. Solomon made a fast retreat back to the stockade at Bedford, and it was not for another twenty years or thereabouts that the first permanent settler arrived. In 1794, about the time President Washington was sending an army over the mountains to put down the so-called Whiskey Rebellion in Pittsburgh, Joseph Schantz, or Johns, an Amish farmer from Switzerland, came into the valley with his wife and four children. He cleared off thirty acres between the rivers, raised a cabin, planted an orchard, and laid out a village which he called Conemaugh Old Town\u2014or just Conemaugh\u2014and which he had every hope for becoming the county seat.\n\nWhen the county was established in 1804 and given the old Latin name for Wales\u2014Cambria\u2014Ebensburg, a mountain village fifteen miles to the north, was picked as county seat. Three years later Joseph Johns sold his village and moved on.\n\nThe next proprietor was a long-haired \"York County Dutchman\" (a Pennsylvania German) named Peter Levergood, and from then until the canal came through, the town remained no more than a backwoods trading center. But with the arrival of the canal it became the busiest place in the county. By 1835 Johnstown, as it was by then known, had a drugstore, a newspaper, a Presbyterian church, and a distillery. By 1840 its population, if the nearby settlements were counted, had probably passed 3,000. Then, in the 1850's, the Pennsylvania Railroad came through, the Cambria Iron Company was established, and everything changed.\n\nBy the start of the 1880's Johnstown and its neighboring boroughs had a total population of about 15,000. Within the next nine years the population doubled. On the afternoon of May 30, 1889, there were nearly 30,000 people living in the valley.\n\nProperly speaking Johnstown was only one of several boroughs\u2014East Conemaugh, Woodvale, Conemaugh, Cambria City, Prospect, Millville, Morrellville, Grubbtown, Moxham, Johnstown\u2014which were clustered between the hills, packed in so tight that there was scarcely room to build anything more.\n\nPetty political jealousies and differences over taxes had kept them from uniting. As it was there was no telling where one began or the other ended unless you knew, which, of course, everyone who lived there did. Millville, Prospect, and Cambria City, it was said, lived on the pay roll of the Cambria mills; Conemaugh lived on the Gautier wire works, Woodvale on the woolen mills there, and Johnstown, in turn, lived on all the rest of them. Johnstown was the center of the lot, geographically and in every other way. It was far and away the largest, with a population of its own of perhaps 10,000 by 1889, which was four times greater than even the biggest of the others. The banks were there, the hotels, the jail, and a full-time police force of nine.\n\nThere were five-story office buildings on Main and up-to-date stores. The town had an opera house, a night school, a library, a remarkable number of churches, and several large, handsome houses, most of which were owned by men high up in the Iron Company.\n\nMuch would be written later on how the wealthy men of Johnstown lived on the high ground, while the poor were crowded into the lowlands. The fact was that the most imposing houses in town were all on Main Street, and one of the largest clusters of company houses was up on Prospect Hill.\n\nThe rest of the people lived in two- and three-story frame houses which, often as not, had a small porch in front and a yard with shade trees and a few outbuildings in back. Nearly everyone had a picket fence around his property, and in spite of its frenzied growth, the city still had more than a few signs of its recent village past.\n\nOn the 22nd of May, for example, the town fathers had gathered at the City Council chambers to settle various matters of the moment, the most pressing of which was to amend Section 12 of Chapter XVI of the Codified Ordinance of the Borough of Johnstown. The word \"cow\" was to be inserted after \"goat\" in the third line, so that it would from then on read: \"Section 12. Any person who shall willfully suffer his horse, mare, gelding, mule, hog, goat, cow, or geese to run at large within the Borough shall for each offense forfeit and pay for each of said animals so running at large the sum of one dollar . . .\"\n\nLife was comparatively simple, pleasures few. There were Saturday night band concerts in the park, and lectures at the library. Sundays half the town put on its best and went walking. Families would pick one of the neighboring boroughs and walk out and back, seeing much and, naturally, being seen all along the way.\n\nThere was a new show at the Washington Street Opera House every other night or so. Thus far in 1889 it had been an especially good season, with such favorites as Zozo the Magic Queen (which brought its \"splendid production\" in \"OUR OWN SPECIAL SCENERY CAR\") and Uncle Tom's Cabin appearing in a single week. (Harriet Beecher Stowe's little drama had also changed considerably since the years before the war. The Johnstown performance, for example, featured \"a pack of genuine bloodhounds; two Topsies; Two Marks, Eva and her Pony 'Prince'; African Mandolin Players; 'Tinker' the famous Trick Donkey.\")\n\nThere was also the Unique Rink for roller skating, a fad which seemed to be tapering off some that spring. There was superb fishing along the Conemaugh and the Stony Creek in spring and summer. Downstream from town the river was stained by waste dumped from the mills, but above town the water still ran clear between sun-bleached boulders and was full of catfish, sunfish, mullet, walleyed pike that everyone mistakenly called salmon, trout, eels, and speedy, mud-colored crawfish.\n\nIn spring, too, there was nearly always a good brawl when the circus came to town. In the fall, when the sour gums turned blood-red against the pines, there was wonderful hunting on the mountains, and fresh deer hanging from butcher shop meathooks was one of the signs of the season. In winter there were sleigh rides to Ebensburg, tobogganing parties, and ice skating at the Von Lunen pond across from the new Johnson Street Rail works up the Stony Creek at Moxham.\n\nAnd year round there was a grand total of 123 saloons to choose from in the greater Johnstown area, ranging from California Tom's on Market Street to the foul-smelling holes along the back alleys of Cambria City. California Tom Davis had been a forty-niner. He was one of the colorful characters of Johnstown and the back room of his saloon was the favorite gathering place for those professional men and Cambria Iron officials who liked to take a sociable drink now and then.\n\nBut the average saloon was simply a place where a workingman could stop off at the end of the day to settle the fierce thirst the heat of the furnaces left him with, or to clear the coal dust from his throat. He was always welcome there, without a shave or a change of clothes. It was his club. He had a schooner of beer or a shot; most of the time he spent talking.\n\nLike any steel town Johnstown had a better than average number of hard-line drinking men. On payday Saturdays the bartenders were the busiest people in town. And week after week Monday's paper carried an item or two about a \"disturbance\" Saturday night on Washington Street or in Cambria City, and published the names of two or three citizens who had spent the night in the lockup for behaving in \"frontier fashion.\"\n\nFor those of still earthier appetite there was Lizzie Thompson's place on Frankstown Hill, at the end of Locust Street. It was the best-known of the sporting houses, but there were others too, close by, and on Prospect Hill. And one spring a similar enterprise had flourished for weeks in the woods outside of town, when several itinerant \"soiled doves,\" as the Tribune called them, set up business in an abandoned coal mine.\n\nBut primarily, life in Johnstown meant a great deal of hard work for just about everybody. Not only because that was how life was then, but because people had the feeling they were getting somewhere. The country seemed hell-bent for a glorious new age, and Johnstown, clearly, was right up there booming along with the best of them. Pittsburgh and Chicago were a whole lot bigger, to be sure, and taking a far bigger part of the business. But that was all right. For Johnstown these were the best years ever.\n\nProgress was being made, and it was not just something people were reading about. It was happening all around them, touching their lives.\n\nStreets were bright at night now with sputtering white arc lights. There was a new railroad station with bright-colored awnings. The hospital was new; two new business blocks had been finished on Main. A telephone exchange had begun service that very year, in January, and already there were more than seventy phones in town. Quite a few houses had new bathrooms. The Hulbert House, the new hotel on Clinton Street, had an elevator and steam heat.\n\nThere was a street railway out to Woodvale and another up to Moxham. Almost everyone had electricity or natural gas in his home. There were typewriters in most offices, and several people had already bought one of the new Kodak \"detective\" cameras. \"Anybody can use the Kodak,\" the advertisements said.\n\nInventions and changes were coming along so fast that it was hard to keep up with them all. The town had no debts, taxes were low, and the cost of things was coming down little by little.\n\nOf course, there were some who looked askance at so much change and liked to talk about the old days when they said there had never been so much drinking, no prostitution, and men could still do a day's work without complaining. There was also strong resentment against the company, and quiet talk of trouble to come, though it would have been very hard for most men among those Memorial Day crowds to have imagined there ever being an actual strike in the mills. The miners had tried it, twice, and both times the company had clamped down with such speed and decisiveness that the strikes had been broken in no time.\n\nAnd there were floods and fires and, worst of all, epidemics that hit so swiftly and unexpectedly, terrifying everyone, and killing so many children. The last bad time had been in 1879, when diphtheria killed 132 children within a few months. Death was always near, and there was never any telling when it would strike again.\n\nYear in, year out men were killed in the mills, or maimed for life. Small boys playing around the railroad tracks that cut in and out of the town would jump too late or too soon and lose a leg or an arm, or lie in a coma for weeks with the whole town talking about them until they stopped breathing forever.\n\nBut had not life always been so? Was not hard work the will of the Lord? (\"In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground . . .\") And yes, death too? (\". . . for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.\")\n\nAnd besides, was it not a fine thing to be where there was so much going on, so much to keep a man busy and his family eating regularly?\n\nSo far it had been a good year. Except for measles the town seemed pretty healthy. Talk was that it would be a good summer for steel. Prices might well improve, and perhaps wages with them, and there would be no labor trouble to complicate things, as there would probably be in Pittsburgh.\n\nThe Quicksteps, Johnstown's beloved baseball team, had made a rather poor showing so far, losing to Braddock, Greensburg, and McKeesport in a row; but they had beaten Altoona once, and most people felt that about made up for it. The newspapers were full of stories about the World's Fair opening in Paris, and its Eiffel Tower, and about the Oklahoma Territory opening up out west. Towers of structural steel could reach nearly to the heavens, and Americans could turn a dusty prairie into farms and whole new cities overnight. It was some time to be alive.\n\nBut perhaps best of all there seemed such a strong spirit of national unity everywhere. The Constitutional government those Grand Army veterans had fought for had just celebrated its one hundredth birthday that spring and there had been quite a to-do about it in the newspapers and picture magazines. \"A nation in its high hour of imperial power and prosperity looks back a hundred years to its obscure and doubtful beginning . . .\" one article began. That the next one hundred years would be better still, bringing wondrous advantages and rewards to millions of people who had also come from \"obscure and doubtful\" beginnings, seemed about as certain as anything could be; and especially in a place like Johnstown, on a day when flags were flying from one end of town to the other, and the \"Boys in Blue\" were marching again.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nWhen the rain started coming down about four o'clock, it was very fine and gentle, little more than a cold mist. Even so, no one welcomed it. There had already been more than a hundred days of rain that year, and the rivers were running high as it was. The first signs of trouble had been a heavy snow in April, which had melted almost as soon as it came down. Then in May there had been eleven days of rain.\n\nThe rivers ran high every spring. That was to be expected. Some springs they ran so high they filled the lower half of town to the top doorstep. A few times the water had been level with first-floor windows along several streets. Floods had become part of the season, like the dogwood blooming on the mountain. Yet, each year, there was the hope that perhaps this time the rivers might behave themselves.\n\nIt had already been such a curious year for weather. A tornado in February had killed seventeen people in Pittsburgh. Not much had happened in Johnstown, but the wind carried off a tin church roof at Loretto. The April snow had been the heaviest of the whole year, with fourteen inches or more in the mountains. And all through May, temperatures had been bouncing every which way, up in the eighties one day, down below freezing two nights later, then back to the eighties again. Now it felt more like March than May.\n\nAbout five the rain stopped and left everything freshly rinsed looking. The Reverend Chapman, back on his front porch after participating at the graveside ceremonies, sat gazing at the park with its big elms and draped chain fence, and thought to himself that he had seldom looked upon a lovelier scene. Or at least so he wrote later on.\n\nThe Reverend had been in Johnstown only a few years, and it had been just the month before that he and his wife, Agnes, had moved into the new parsonage. He had grown up along the canal to the west of Johnstown, at Blairsville, where his father had eked out a living painting decorative scenes and designs on packet boats. His first church had been in Ligonier, on the other side of Laurel Hill. Later there had been churches in New Florence and Bolivar, down the Conemaugh, and half a dozen other places between Johnstown and Pittsburgh. He liked every one of them, he said, but Johnstown was something special. His stone church next door was the largest in town, a landmark, and except for St. Joseph's, the German Catholic church over in Conemaugh borough, no church had a larger membership. His neighbors across the park, Dr. Lowman and John Fulton, were the finest sort of Christian gentlemen, and their homes were as elegantly furnished as any in town. The Dibert bank, Griffith's drugstore, the post office and the Tribune offices on the floor above it, were all but a few steps from the Reverend's front door. The parsonage faced on to Franklin Street, at almost the exact dead center of Johnstown.\n\nNight settled in and the lights came on along Franklin and Main. A few blocks away William Kuhn and Daisy Horner were being married in a small ceremony at the bride's home. At the Opera House Mr. Augustin Daly's New York production of A Night Off, \"The comedy success of two continents,\" was playing to a small house. Daly was the foremost theatrical producer of the day, and A Night Off had been his biggest hit for several years. Like some of his other productions, it was an adaptation from a German comedy, a fact which the Johnstown audience undoubtedly appreciated.\n\nOther than that not much else was going on. Because of the holiday there had been no paper that morning, but according to Wednesday's Tribune, rainstorms were expected late that Thursday; tomorrow, Friday, was to be slightly warmer. The barometric pressure was reported at thirty, temperature from forty-six to sixty-five, humidity at sixty-nine per cent.\n\nAbout nine the rain began again, gentle and quiet as earlier. But an hour or so later it started pouring and there seemed no end to it. \"Sometime in the night,\" according to Chapman, \"my wife asked if it were not raining very hard, and I being very sleepy, barely conscious of the extraordinary downpour simply answered, 'Yes,' and went to sleep, thinking no more of it until morning.\"\n\n### -3-\n\nGeorge Heiser's day did not end until after ten. It was his practice to keep the store open until then. With the saloons along Washington Street doing business on into the night, there were generally people about and he could pick up a little more trade. Either he or his wife Mathilde would be looking after things behind the counter, in among the queen's ware and the barrels of sugar and crackers, the cases of Ewarts tobacco and yellow laundry soap, needles, spools, pins, and Clark's \"O-N-T\" (Our New Thread).\n\nGeorge and Mathilde Heiser, and their sixteen-year-old son, Victor, lived upstairs over the store. They had been at the same location, 224 Washington, for several years now and, at long last, business was looking up. At fifty-two, for the first time in his life, George Heiser was getting on in the world.\n\nWashington Street ran parallel to Main, two blocks to the north. From the Stony Creek over to the Little Conemaugh, the east-west streets\u2014the \"up\" streets they were called\u2014ran Vine, Lincoln, Main, Locust, Washington. Then came the B & O tracks and the B & O depot which was directly across the street from the Heiser store. Beyond the tracks were two more streets, Broad and Pearl, then the Little Conemaugh, and on the other side of that rose Prospect Hill, steep as a roof. With the town growing the way it had been, the Baltimore & Ohio had brought in a spur from Somerset eight years before to try to take away some of the freight business from the Pennsylvania. An old schoolhouse had been converted into a depot, and the steady night and day racket of the trains right by their window had made quite a difference to the Heisers. But with the store doing as well as it was, George Heiser had few complaints.\n\nGeorge had been troubled by bad luck much of his life. During the war, at Fredericksburg, when his unit had been making a rapid withdrawal, his companion in the ranks, a fellow named Pike, got hit and went down grabbing on to George's leg and pleading for George not to leave him. As a result they were both captured and George spent the rest of the war in Libby Prison. Then, years later, at a time when he seemed to be getting nowhere in Johnstown, George had gone off north to Oil City hoping to strike it rich. He wound up running a butcher shop instead and in no time was back in Johnstown, flat broke, wiped out by fire and his own lack of business sense.\n\nGeorge had not marched in the parade that afternoon. His blue uniform seldom ever came out of the big wardrobe upstairs. He was not much for parades and the like. He seldom mixed in politics, never became an enthusiastic church man. He neither smoked nor chewed, though he would take a beer every so often and once a year he liked to make wine down in the cellar. He did enjoy the Grand Army meetings, but that was largely because he enjoyed being with his friends. People liked him. He was a good storyteller, easygoing. He was also about as physically powerful as any man in town, and he was a very soft touch. He could lift a barrel full of sugar, which was considered quite a feat; but turning away a friend whose credit might not be the best seemed more than he was up to.\n\nTwice in his life he had let friends have money when they came to him; twice he had suffered heavily from the loss. Fortunately for the Heisers, Mathilde was a determined and sensible wife. She was the manager of the two, and after George came back from Oil City she took charge. She kept the books, saw that he did not let much go on credit. Nor would she allow him to set any chairs out on the bare wooden floor. Otherwise, she said, his cronies would be sitting about half the day giving the place the wrong sort of appearance. They had at last been able to add a new window to the store front and appearances would be maintained so long as Mathilde had her say.\n\nMathilde's appearance was straightforward and intelligent. She had a fine head of dark-brown hair, a high forehead, and a set to her mouth that suggested she knew where she was going and that chances were good she would get there. She had had a considerable amount of education for a woman of that time and continued to keep up with her reading. Education was the thing, a proper education and hard work. It had been her way of life since childhood in Germany, and she intended to pass it on to the pride of her life, her son.\n\nVictor was her second child. The first, a girl, had died of diphtheria. Victor had been struck down with it too, but he had been stronger. He looked much like his father now, only a ganglier, rawboned version. He was a serious, pink-faced boy, with big feet and blond hair, taller already than most men and far better educated. At sixteen he knew several languages, was well along in advanced mathematics, and had read about as widely as any boy in Johnstown. At his mother's insistence, his life was a steady round of school, homework, and being tutored in one extra course or another. If George Heiser had had his troubles making his way, that was one thing; Victor, Mathilde Heiser was determined, would not just get on, he would excel. There would be no going off to the Cambria works or coal mines for this young man, and no clerking behind a store counter either.\n\nNow and again Victor had his moments away from all that. His father would step in and see that he got some time off. George Heiser had a wonderful way with children. He was forever telling them stories and listening to theirs. He took a great interest in his son and his schemes, one of which was to build a raft and float down the Conemaugh to the Allegheny, then on to the Ohio and Mississippi. Victor had taken some night classes in mechanical drawing at the library and had worked up plans on how the raft should be built. His idea was to catch the Conemaugh when it was high, otherwise he knew he would run aground.\n\nIn summer he would bring home accounts of his long rides out of town to the open country above the valley. Once he and one of his friends had gone all the way to the South Fork dam to take a look at the lake and the summer colony, but they had been sent on their way by the grounds keeper and never got to see much.\n\nOther nights Victor talked about walking to the edge of town to watch the big summer revival meeting. He loved the powerful singing and the whooping and hollering of people \"getting religion.\" On the way home he and his friends would try to imitate what they had seen, laughing and pounding each other on the back as they came along the streets. This was the kind of education George Heiser understood. He had grown up in Johnstown himself. His people had been among the Pennsylvania Germans who first settled the valley.\n\nAfter ten the Heiser store was closed for the day, the lights out downstairs. When the downpour began, George and Mathilde did not think much of it, except that there would almost certainly be high water in the morning. But the thought bothered them very little, except for the inconveniences there might be. They listened to the rain drum on the roof and were glad to be inside.\n\nIf there was such a thing as a typical married couple in Johnstown on the night of May 30, 1889, George and Mathilde Heiser would come about as close as any to qualifying. Together, like Johnstown itself, they combined an Old World will to make good in the New with a sort of earlier-American, cracker-barrel willingness to take life pretty much as it came. Unlike a large number of Johnstown people, they were not directly beholden to the Cambria Iron Company, but their fortunes, like those of the entire valley, depended nonetheless on how red those skies glowed at night.\n\nThey had suffered the death of a child; they had tried their luck elsewhere and had lost. They fought dirt daily, saved every spare nickel, and took tremendous pride in the progress they were making. All things considered, Johnstown seemed a good place to be. It was their home.\n\n## II\n\n## Sailboats on the mountain\n\n### -1-\n\nThe lake had several different names. On old state maps it was the Western Reservoir, the name it had been given more than forty years earlier when the dam was first built. It was also known as the Old Reservoir and Three Mile Dam, which was the most descriptive name of the lot, if somewhat misleading, since the lake was closer to two than three miles long. The Pittsburgh people who had owned it now for ten years, and who had made a number of changes, called it Lake Conemaugh. But in Johnstown, and in the little coal towns and railroad stops along the way to Johnstown, it was generally known as South Fork dam.\n\nSouth Fork was the nearest place to it of any size. Something like 1,500 people lived there in gaunt little frame houses perched on a hill just back from the tracks and the place where South Fork Creek flows into the Little Conemaugh River. Green hills closed in on every side; the air smelled of coal dust and pine trees. It was a town like any one of a half dozen along the main line of the Pennsylvania between Altoona and Johnstown; except for July and August, when things picked up considerably in South Fork.\n\nThe Pittsburgh people were coming and going then, and they were something to see with their troops of beautiful children, their parasols, and servants. Two or three spring wagons and buggies were usually waiting at the depot to take them to the lake. On Saturdays and Sundays the drivers were going back and forth several times a day.\n\nThe ride to the lake was two miles along a dusty country road that ran through the woods beside South Fork Creek, past Lamb's Bridge, then on up the valley almost to the base of the dam.\n\nSeen from down below, the dam looked like a tremendous mound of overgrown rubble, the work of a glacier perhaps. It reared up 72 feet above the valley floor and was more than 900 feet long. Its face was very steep and covered with loose rocks. There were deep crevices between the rocks where, as late as May, you could still find winter ice hiding; but wild grass, bushes, and saplings had long since taken root across nearly all of the face and pushed up vigorously from between the rocks, adding to the overall impression that the whole huge affair somehow actually belonged to the natural landscape. There was hardly any indication that the thing was the work of man and no suggestion at all of what lay on the other side, except over at the far left, at the eastern end of the dam, where a spillway had been cut through the solid rock of the hillside and a wide sheet of water came crashing down over dark boulders. It was a most picturesque spot, and a favorite for picnics. Long shafts of sunlight slanted through a leafy gloom where the mountain laurel grew higher than a man could reach. And at the base of the falls a wooden bridge crossed the loud water and sent the road climbing straight to a clump of trees at the top of the dam, just to the right of the spillway.\n\nThere the road divided, with the left-hand fork crossing another long wooden bridge which went directly over the spillway. But carriages heading for the club took the road to the right, which turned sharply out of the trees into the sunshine and ran straight across the breast of the dam where, about a hundred yards out, the drivers customarily stopped long enough for everyone to take in the view.\n\nTo the right the dam dropped off a great deal more abruptly even than it had looked from below, and South Fork Creek could be seen glittering through the trees as it wound toward Lamb's Bridge.\n\nOn the other side of the road the bank sloped sharply to the water's edge, which was usually no more than six or seven feet below the top of the dam. From there the broad surface of the lake, gleaming in the sunlight, swept off down the valley until it disappeared behind a wooded ridge in the distance.\n\nAlong the eastern shore, to the left, were the hayfields and orchards of the Unger farm, neatly framed with split-rail fences. Beyond that was what was known as Sheep's Head Point, a grassy knoll that jutted out into the lake. Then there were one, two, three ridges, and the water turned in behind them, out of sight, running, so it seemed, clear to the hazy blue horizon off to the south.\n\nAt the western end of the dam the road swung on through the woods, never far from the water, for another mile or so, to the main grounds of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, which, seen from the dam, looked like a colorful string of doll houses against the distant shore line.\n\nFrom the dam to the club, across the water, was about a mile. Except for a few small coves, the narrowest part of the lake was at the dam, but there was one spot, on down past the club, where an east-west line across the water was nearly a mile. A hike the whole way around the shore was five miles.\n\nWhen the water was up in the spring, the lake covered about 450 acres and was close to seventy feet deep in places. The claim, in 1889, was that it was the largest man-made lake in the country, which it was not. But even so, as one man in Johnstown often told his children, it was \"a mighty body of water to be up there on the mountain.\"\n\nThe difference in elevation between the top of the dam and the city of Johnstown at the stone bridge was about 450 feet, and the distance from the dam to that point, by way of the river valley, was just under fifteen miles. Estimates are that the water of Lake Conemaugh weighed about 20 million tons.\n\nThe water came from half a dozen streams and little creeks that rushed down from Blue Knob and Allegheny Mountain, draining some sixty square miles. There was Rorabaugh Creek, Toppers Run, Yellow Run, Bottle Run, Muddy Run, South Fork Creek, and one or two others which seem never to have been named officially. South Fork Creek and Muddy Run were the biggest of them, but South Fork Creek was at least twice the size of the others. Even in midsummer it was a good twenty feet across. Like the others it was shallow, ice-cold, very swift, and just about a perfect place for trout fishing.\n\nIn South Fork there were scores of people who had been out on the dam and had seen the view. There were others who knew even more about the club and the goings on there because they worked on the grounds, tending lawns or waiting on tables at the clubhouse. But for everyone else the place was largely a mystery. It was all private property, and as the club managers had made quite clear on more than one occasion, uninvited guests were definitely not welcome.\n\nThe club had been organized in Pittsburgh in 1879. It owned the dam, the lake, and about 160 acres besides. By 1889 sixteen cottages had been built along the lake, as well as boathouses and stables. The cottages were set out in an orderly line among the trees, not very far apart, and only a short way back from the water. They looked far too substantial really to be called \"cottages.\" Nearly every one of them was three stories tall, with high ceilings, long windows, a deep porch downstairs, and, often as not, another little porch or two upstairs tucked under sharp-peaked roofs. The Lippincott house with its two sweeping front porches, one set on top of the other, and its fancy jigsaw trim, looked like a Mississippi riverboat. The Moorhead house was Queen Anne style, which was \"all the rage\" then; it had seventeen rooms and a round tower at one end with tinted glass windows. And the Philander Knox house, next door, was not much smaller.\n\nBut even the largest of them was dwarfed by the clubhouse. It had enough windows and more than enough porch for ten houses. There were forty-seven rooms inside. During the season most of the club members and their guests stayed there, and the rule was that everyone had to take his meals there in the main dining room, where 150 could sit down at one time.\n\nIn the \"front rooms\" there were huge brick fireplaces for chilly summer nights, billiard tables, and heavy furniture against the walls. In summer, after the midday dinner, the long front porch was crowded with cigar-smoking industrialists taking the air off the water. String hammocks swung under the trees. Young women in long white dresses, their faces shaded under big summer hats, strolled the boardwalks in twos and threes, or on the arms of very proper-looking young men in dark suits and derbies. Cottages were noisy with big families, and on moonlight nights there were boating parties on the lake and the sound of singing and banjos across the black water.\n\nIn all the talk there would be about the lake in the years after it had vanished, the boats, perhaps more than anything else, would keep coming up over and over again. Boats of any kind were a rare sight in the mountains. There were rowboats on the old Suppes ice pond at the edge of Johnstown, and a few men had canoes along the river below the city. But that was about it. Not since the time when Johnstown had been the start of the canal route west had there been boats in any number, and then they had been only ungainly canal barges.\n\nThe club fleet included fifty rowboats and canoes, sailboats, and two little steam yachts that went puttering about flying bright pennants and trailing feathers of smoke from their tall funnels. There was even an electric catamaran, a weird-looking craft with a searchlight mounted up front, which had been built by a young member, Louis Clarke, who liked to put on a blue sailor's outfit for his cruises around the lake.\n\nBut it was the sailboats that made the greatest impression. Sailboats on the mountain! It seemed almost impossible in a country where water was always a tree-crowded creek or stream, wild and dangerous in the spring, not much better than ankle-deep in the hottest months. Yet there they were: white sails moving against the dark forest across a great green mirror of a lake so big that you could see miles and miles of sky in it.\n\nSome of the people in Johnstown who were, as they said, \"privileged\" to visit the club on August Sundays brought home vivid descriptions of young people gliding over the water under full sail. It was a picture of a life so removed from Johnstown that it seemed almost like a fantasy, ever so much farther away than fifteen miles, and wholly untouchable. It was a picture that would live on for a long time after.\n\nThat the Pittsburgh people also took enormous pleasure in the sight seems certain. There was no body of water such as this any where near Pittsburgh. There were, of course, the Monongahela and Allegheny rivers, but they were not exactly clean any longer, and with the mills going full blast, which they had been for some time now, the air around them was getting a little more unpleasant each year. It was a curious paradox; the more the city prospered, the more uncomfortable it became living there. Progress could be downright repressive. But fortunately for the Pittsburgh people, it was very much within their power to create and maintain a place so blessed with all of nature's virtues.\n\nThis water was pure and teeming with fish, and the air tasted like wine after Pittsburgh. The woods were full of songbirds and deer that came down to drink from the mist-hung lake at dawn. There were wild strawberries everywhere, and even on the very hottest days it was comfortable under the big trees.\n\nIn fact, with its bracing air, its lovely lake, and the intense quiet of its cool nights, the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club must have seemed like paradise after Pittsburgh. Under such a spell even a Presbyterian steel master might wish to unbend a little.\n\nThe summer resort idea was something new for that part of the country. And only the favored few had the time or the money to experiment with it. But so far every indication was that the club was a great success. There had been problems from time to time. Poachers had been a continuing nuisance. The summer of 1888 had been cut short when a scarlet-fever scare sent everyone packing off home to Pittsburgh. Still, everything considered, in 1889 it looked as though the men who had bought the old dam ten years earlier knew what they were doing.\n\n### -2-\n\nThe first member of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club to take an interest in the regenerative powers of the Alleghenies was Andrew Carnegie.\n\nCarnegie had been going to what he called \"The Glorious Mountain\" long before the South Fork organization was put together. He had his own modest frame house at Cresson, which was one of the first summer resorts in Pennsylvania and the only one of any consequence in the western part of the state. It was owned by the Pennsylvania Railroad and was located fourteen miles up the line from South Fork at the crest of the Allegheny range.\n\nCresson, or Cresson Springs as it was also known, had been started before the Civil War by a doctor named Robert Montgomery Smith Jackson. The main attractions at Cresson, aside from the mountain air and scenery, were the \"iron springs,\" the best-known of which was the Ignatius Spring, named after \"the venerable huntsman\" Ignatius Adams, who first discovered its life-preserving powers and whose ghost was said still to haunt the place. According to Jackson, \"by drinking this water, dwelling in the woods and eating venison,\" Ignatius had \"lived near the good old age of one hundred years.\" Jackson was against whiskey, slavery, and what he called the \"present tendency to agglomerate in swarms, or accumulate in masses and mobs.\" Those \"gregarious instincts [which] now impel this race to fix its hopes of earthly happiness on city life alone\" would, he was convinced, be the undoing of the race. Life in the country was the answer to practically every one of man's ills, and particularly life on the Allegheny Mountain.\n\nJackson's ambition (\"a mission, solemn as a command from Heaven,\" he called it) was to make Cresson \"the place of restoration for all forms of human suffering.\" He got his friend J. Edgar Thomson, president of the Pennsylvania, interested, and the railroad built a hotel and developed the place, though, as things turned out, along rather different lines. Carnegie, B. F. Jones, and a few other Pittsburgh businessmen, none of whom seems to have been suffering very much, built cottages and the summer trade flourished. Every passenger train bound east or west stopped there. Well-to-do families from Pittsburgh and Philadelphia arrived for summer stays of several weeks.\n\nJackson meanwhile had set down the fundamentals of his philosophy along with a detailed natural history of the Allegheny highlands in a book called The Mountain. He borrowed heavily from Wordsworth and Thoreau, and, in his own way, did about as much as anyone to sum up the wild beauty of the area. Also, in his spare time, he tended bar at the hotel and would be remembered for years after for the two jars he kept prominently displayed on one shelf, flanked on either side by whiskey bottles. In each jar, preserved in alcohol, was a human stomach. One had belonged to a man who had died a natural death, and was, according to all who saw it, an exceedingly unappetizing sight. But it was, nonetheless, an improvement over its companion piece, which, according to its label, had belonged to a man who had died of delirium tremens. When setting out drinks, the doctor seldom failed to call attention to his display. The result was that his bar became the best patronized of any for miles about. Regular customers grew quite attached to the jars; word of them spread far, and along with the iron springs, they appear to have been a major attraction at Cresson for several years.\n\nJackson served in the war; then, in 1865, despite all his good life on the mountain, he died at the age of fifty.\n\nBy 1881, to accommodate the growing trade, the railroad cleared space in a maple grove and built another hotel, The Mountain House, which, with its endless thick-carpeted halls, its many towers and flowing stairways, was easily the grandest piece of architecture in Cambria County.\n\nCarnegie's house, only a short distance from the hotel, was his only real home in Pennsylvania by that time. Though no one held more sway in Pittsburgh, he had not lived there for nearly twenty years. He visited often, and was front-page news when he did, but the rest of the time he was either in New York, Scotland, or at Cresson. He loved Cresson and talked up its charms with great vigor, which is perhaps not surprising for a Scot who had been brought up on Burns and had learned to quote him before he had learned to read. (\"My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;\/ My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.\") He courted his young wife there in the summer of 1886. (\"A.C. walked home with me in the starlight . . .\" she wrote in her diary at Cresson. \"Such wonderful happiness . . . the happiest day of my life.\") He also very nearly died there of typhoid later that fall; and his mother, who took sick at the same time and lay in the next room down the hall, did die there on November 10. He entertained his distinguished friends at Cresson (Matthew Arnold had stopped over in 1883), and he managed, as was his pleasure, to keep his mind free and above the petty preoccupations of the steel business.\n\nAs one admiring writer of the period explained it: \"All other iron and steel magnates, with the exception of Carnegie, lived in Pittsburgh and were swayed constantly by the local gossip, by the labour troubles, and by the rumours of competition and low prices that floated from office to office. To-day they were elated; tomorrow they were depressed. To-day they bought; to-morrow they sold. Carnegie, on the other hand, deliberately placed himself where these little ups and downs were unnoticed. . . . the news that Coleman had quarrelled with Shinn, or that coke-drawers wanted five cents a day more, was of small consequence. One thing he knew\u2014that civilisation needed steel and was able to pay for it. All else was not worth troubling about.\"\n\nThe place had its hold on him. He went on bird walks; he read; he talked and talked and talked. And if the views and good company were not enough, there were the \"curative powers,\" as the guidebook described them, of the iron springs. And who might more readily endorse such a tonic than the bouncy little ironmaster himself?\n\nBut Cresson had its drawbacks. It was a public place for one, sitting almost on top of the railroad. For another, there was no water. The story goes that there was (and still is) a house at Cresson where the rain water off of one roof eventually ends up in the Atlantic Ocean, while the rain water off the other finds its way to the Mississippi Valley and the Gulf of Mexico. The resort was at the very crest of the Allegheny divide, and though springs were plentiful, every bit of water there was drained off in both directions.\n\nAs a result, except for drives and walks, there was really not much to do at Cresson. Tennis had not yet caught on there. Golf, which was to one day be the great passion of Carnegie and his kind, would not even be attempted in the United States until 1888. But boating was already distinctly fashionable, and fishing had been coming more and more into its own as a gentleman's sport.\n\nPart of the increasing appeal of fishing seemed to be the multitude of trappings it called for. Where once the well-equipped angler needed only the simplest and most inexpensive sort of gear, now in the late 1880's a whole line of elaborate and expensive paraphernalia was said to be necessary. Bait boxes, boots, collapsible nets, cookstoves, silk line, creels, reels and casting rods that cost as much as twenty dollars, even costly books on the subject, were the sign of the true sportsman. All of which seemed to make fishing, and particularly trout and bass fishing, which were generally referred to as a \"science,\" that much more attractive to the man of means. His interest in the sport not only showed his love of the great outdoors, but also that he had both the money and the brains to participate.\n\nOf course, too, few pastimes there were which would take a man so far, in spirit at least, from the rude industrial grind. \"God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling,\" were the words of Izaak Walton in the newly reissued, and quite costly, two-volume edition of his great work on the subject. One Walton disciple of the 1880's, who as it happens was a Vermonter, wrote about this time, \"I take my rod this fair June morning and go forth to be alone with nature. No business cares, no roar of the city, no recitals of others troubles . . . no doubts, no fears to disturb me as, drinking in the clear, sweet air with blissful anticipation I saunter through the wood path toward the mountain lake.\" Had he been a Pittsburgh steel man he need only have added \"no competitors, no labor agitators.\"\n\nSo all that was needed to improve on Cresson was enough water for boating and fishing. A mountain lake, in short; plus some privacy. It would also be well to be back a way from the railroad, though not too far back, as the railroad was the one and only way to make the trip from Pittsburgh. As it was, the ride took about an hour and fifteen minutes to Johnstown, then another twenty minutes to come on up the mountain. That was about long enough. It would be best, therefore, to be somewhere in the same general area.\n\nThe old reservoir above South Fork certainly must have seemed a perfect solution. It answered every need: It was well back from the railroad; it was only a matter of miles from Cresson; and South Fork Creek was well known as one of the best trout streams in the state. True, the dam needed a great deal of repair work after so many years of neglect, but that could be handled all right, and especially since the property could be had for such a good price. Or so must have run the reasoning of the Pittsburgh men who bought it in 1879. Carnegie was not among them at this particular stage, but no doubt his presence so nearby on the mountain added still another enticing attraction to the scheme.\n\nThe prime promoter behind the move was a onetime railroad tunnel contractor and now-and-then coke salesman and real-estate broker by the name of Benjamin F. Ruff.\n\nRuff bought the dam and the lake from John Reilly, an Altoona Democratic politician and former Pennsylvania Railroad official who was then serving what would be his only term in Congress. Ruff paid $2,000 for the property, which was $500 less than Congressman Reilly had paid for it four years earlier when he had bought it from the Pennsylvania.\n\nRuff then rounded up fifteen other Pittsburgh gentlemen who each, with one exception, bought a single share in the operation for $200. The exception was one of the most interesting young men in Pittsburgh.\n\nIn the spring of 1879, when all this was going on, Henry Clay Frick was only twenty-nine years old, solemn, enigmatic, strikingly handsome, and already worth an even million. The grandson of wealthy, old Abraham Overholt, the Mennonite whiskey maker, Frick had made his own fortune in the coke business, and largely through his dealings with Pittsburgh's number-one coke consumer, Andrew Carnegie.\n\nFrick bought three shares. Ruff kept four for himself. A charter was drawn up stating that the name of the organization was to be the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club of Pittsburgh, that its \"object\" was to be \"the protection and propagation of game and game fish, and the enforcement of all laws of this state against the unlawful killing or wounding of the same.\" It was also stated that the club's place of business was to be Pittsburgh, in Allegheny County, not in Cambria County where the property was located.\n\nOn November 15, 1879, the charter was approved and signed in the Court of Common Pleas in Allegheny County by Judge Edwin H. Stowe, who for some unknown reason ignored the provision in the law which called for the registration of a charter in the \"office for recording in and for the county where the chief operations are to be carried on.\" Nor did the sportsmen make any effort to conform to the law. Perhaps it seemed a minor point and was overlooked by mistake. In any case, the charter was secured without the knowledge of the authorities in Cambria County, and there would be speculation for years to come as to what might have happened right then and there had they and Judge Stowe gone about their business in strict accordance with the rules.\n\nRuff was to be the president of the new club. The capital stock was to be $10,000, but that was soon increased to $35,000 when it became known how much work was needed to get the dam in shape. For in 1879 the South Fork dam was getting on in years, and the years had been hard on it.\n\nForty-three years earlier, in 1836, the legislature of the state of Pennsylvania had approved funds for the building of a reservoir on the western slope of Allegheny Mountain to supply extra water during dry months for the new canal system from Johnstown to Pittsburgh. The first appropriation was for $30,000, but before the project was finished nearly $240,000 would be put into the dam; and two years after it was finished the whole thing would be obsolete and of no use whatsoever.\n\nThe canal from Johnstown to Pittsburgh was known as the Western Division of the state's \"Main Line\" canal, which had been built to compete with New York's thriving, new Erie Canal. The Western Division officially opened for business in May 1831, when a Johnstown barge pulled into Pittsburgh after traveling 104 miles in less than forty-eight hours.\n\nThe Eastern Division, running from Philadelphia to Hollidaysburg, at the foot of the eastern slope of Allegheny Mountain, was opened the next year. The only thing that then remained to be finished was an ingenious system of railroads and steam-powered hoists designed to get the boats up and over the mountain. But by spring of 1834 that too had been built and was open to traffic. For the first time the wharves of Philadelphia had a direct, nonstop link with the headwaters of the Ohio. It had cost a staggering sum; the state was nearly bankrupt; but that old, formidable barrier to the Pennsylvania route west, Allegheny Mountain, had been bested, and the general course of the country's epic push to the Mississippi and beyond had been set for years to come.\n\nThe system devised for crossing the mountain was widely hailed as one of the engineering wonders of the age. Within a distance of thirty-six miles it overcame an increase in elevation of nearly 1,400 feet, or about twice the elevation the Erie Canal had to overcome along its entire length of 352 miles. Known as the Portage Railroad, it included a series of five inclined planes on each side of the mountain, ten in all, connected with a narrow-gauge railroad. Barges, passengers, freight, everything was hauled up one side and let down the other with hemp ropes thick as a man's leg. It was a thrilling experience for travelers, a goodly number of whom chose to go by way of the Pennsylvania, rather than the Erie Canal, for that very reason.\n\nCharles Dickens, one such traveler, described the ride in his American Notes:\n\nIt was very pretty travelling thus, at a rapid pace along the heights of the mountain in a keen wind, to look down into a valley full of light and softness: catching glimpses, through the tree-tops, of scattered cabins; children running to the doors; dogs bursting out to bark, whom we could see without hearing; terrified pigs scampering homewards; families sitting out in their rude gardens; cows gazing upward with a stupid indifference; men in their shirt-sleeves looking on at their unfinished houses, planning out tomorrow's work; and we riding onward, high above them, like a whirlwind.\n\nThe adventurous journey also included, just to the east of Johnstown, a ride through the first railroad tunnel in the country and, in Pittsburgh, a ride across the first suspension bridge, an aqueduct over the Allegheny River designed by German-born John Augustus Roebling, who would later conjure up that wonder of wonders of the 1880's, the Brooklyn Bridge.\n\nBut from Johnstown west the canal was troubled by water shortages nearly every summer. Operations were interrupted. Business suffered at a time when business had to be especially good to make up for winter, when virtually every moving thing stopped in the mountains for weeks on end, and spring, when the floods came. Particularly troublesome was the canal basin in Johnstown. Despite all the water that rushed into the valley in springtime, along toward mid-July the basin came close to running dry.\n\nThe solution seemed obvious enough. Put a dam in the mountains where it could hold a sufficient supply of water to keep the basin working and the canals open, even during those summers when creeks vanished and only weeds grew.\n\nWork began on the Western Reservoir above South Fork in 1838, after some 400 acres had been cleared of timber. The site had been selected and surveyed by Sylvester Welsh, head engineer for the canal. He proposed an earth dam of 850 feet in length, with a spillway at one or both ends \"of sufficient size to discharge the waste water during freshets, and sluices to regulate the supply for the canal.\" It was also important, he said, that the bed of the spillway be solid rock and that no water be permitted to pass over the top of the dam. The design of the dam was worked out by a young state engineer named William E. Morris, who approved the location because, as he stated in a report made in 1839, it was in an area where there was enough drainage to provide a \"certain\" supply of water. He too proposed an earth dam 850 feet across the top and 62 feet high. He estimated that it would take a year to do the job.\n\nThe contractors chosen were James N. Moorhead of Pittsburgh and Hezekiah Packer of Williamsport. According to lengthy studies made by civil engineering experts years later, they did a competent job. Certainly they went about it with considerable care and patience and despite continuing delays. For, as it turned out, fifteen years passed before the dam was finished.\n\nIn 1842 work was halted because the state's finances were in such bad shape that there was simply no more money to continue the job. For the next four years nothing was done. Then when the work did start again, it was only for another two years. A local cholera epidemic caused \"a general derangement in the business,\" until 1850, when the project again resumed, and for the final time.\n\nThe construction technique was the accepted one for earth dams, and, it should be said, earth dams have been accepted for thousands of years as a perfectly fine way to hold back water. They were in fact the most common kind of dam at the time the South Fork work began and they were the most economical. The basic construction material was readily available at almost any site, it was cheap, and it required a minimum of skilled labor. Virtually any gang of day laborers, and particularly any who had had some experience working on railroad embankments, was suitable. But since the basic raw material, earth, is also highly subject to erosion and scour, it is absolutely essential that a dam built of earth, no matter how thick, be engineered so that the water never goes over the top and so that no internal seepage develops. Otherwise, if properly built and maintained, an earth dam can safely contain tremendous bodies of water.\n\nThe South Fork embankment was built of successive horizontal layers of clay. They were laid up one on top of the other after each layer had been packed down, or \"puddled,\" by allowing it to sit under a skim of water for a period of time, so as to be watertight. It was a slow process. And as the earth wall grew increasingly higher, it was coated, or riprapped, on its outer face with loose rocks, some so huge that it took three teams of horses to move them in place. On the inner face, which had a gentler slope, the same thing was done, only with smaller stones.\n\nThe spillway, as Welsh had stipulated, was not cut through the dam itself, but through the rock of the hillside to which the eastern end of the dam was \"anchored.\" The spillway was about 72 feet wide. The over-all length of the breast was just over 930 feet. The width on top was about 20 feet. The thickness at the base was some 270 feet.\n\nAt about the exact center of the base, there were five cast-iron pipes, each two feet in diameter, set in a stone culvert. They were to release the water down to South Fork, where it would flow on to the Johnstown basin by way of the Little Conemaugh. The pipes were controlled from a wooden tower nearby. On June 10, 1852, the work on the dam was at last completed; the sluice pipes were closed and the lake began to fill in. By the end of August the water was 40 feet deep.\n\nBut about the time the dam was being finished, J. Edgar Thomson, who was then chief engineer for the up-and-coming Pennsylvania Railroad, was making rapid progress with his daring rail route over the mountains, which included what was to become famous as the Horseshoe Curve. The canal was about to be put out of business.\n\nThe Pennsylvania was racing to complete a route west to compete with the New York Central, the Erie, and the B & O, which were each pushing in the same direction. The last part of the run, from Johnstown to Pittsburgh, was ready in late 1852. On December 10, six months after the South Fork dam had been finished, a steam engine made an all-rail run from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. J. Edgar Thomson became president of the road about the same time, and the company was on its way to becoming within a very few years the biggest and far and above the most powerful single force in the state (and in the Statehouse); the biggest customer for nearly everything, but especially coal, iron, and steel; the biggest employer; and the biggest influence on the way people lived from one end of Pennsylvania to the other. By the end of the '80's it would be the mightiest of the nation's many mighty railroads.\n\nThe effect of the new railroad on the state's troublesome, costly, and beloved canal system was disastrous\u2014almost immediately. Within two years after the railroad opened, the legislature voted to put the \"Main Line\" up for sale for not less than $10 million. Understandably there were no takers. The one likely prospect was the Pennsylvania itself, which could readily use the right of ways. Three years later the sale was made, with the Pennsylvania paying $7.5 million for the system, which included the Main Line, the Portage Railroad, and, as it happened, the South Fork dam.\n\nHaving no use for the dam, the railroad simply let it sit. Nothing whatsoever was done to maintain it. In fact, from 1857, the year the railroad took possession, until 1879, twenty-two years later when the Pittsburgh men took over, the dam remained more or less quietly unattended, moldering away in the woods, visited only once in a while by fishermen or an occasional deer hunter.\n\nAnd it was only five years after the state sold it to the Pennsylvania that the dam broke for the first time.\n\nIn the late spring of 1862, about the time the Union Army under McClellan was sweating its way up the blazing Virginia peninsula, for a first big and unsuccessful drive on Richmond, the mountains of Pennsylvania were hit by heavy thunderstorms. Hundreds of tiny creeks and runs and small rivers went roaring over their banks, and in Johnstown the Tribune ran the first of its musings on what might be the consequences should, by chance, the dam at South Fork happen to let go. Eight days later, on June 10, the dam broke.\n\nThe break was caused by a defect in the foundation near the stone culvert. The accepted theory locally was that various residents had been stealing lead from the pipe joints during the years the dam had been abandoned, that serious leaks had been the result, and that the break had come not long after. Exactly how big the break was is not known, as no records were made and no photographs were taken. The important fact was that though there was much alarm in the valley below the dam, the break caused little damage since the lake was less than half full, the creeks were low, and a watchman at the dam, just before the break, had released much of the pressure by opening the valves. (It was also somewhere along about this time that the wooden tower for controlling the discharge pipes caught fire and burned to the ground.)\n\nFrom then on until the Pittsburgh sportsmen appeared on the scene seventeen years later the lake was no lake at all, but little more than an outsize pond, ten feet deep at its deepest point. At the southern end, grass quickly sprouted across acres and acres of dried-up lake bed and neighboring farmers began grazing their sheep and cattle there.\n\nIn 1875 Congressman Reilly, who had spent most of his working life with the Pennsylvania in nearby Altoona, and who must have thereby known about the dam for some time, bought the property and, like the Pennsylvania, did nothing with it. He just held on to it, apparently on the look for another buyer, which he found four years later in Benjamin Ruff. But before selling at a slight loss to Ruff, he removed the old cast-iron discharge pipes and sold them for scrap.\n\nRuff's idea of what to do about the dam was relatively simple and seemed realistic enough at first. He would rebuild it to a height of only forty feet or so and cut the spillway down some twenty feet deeper to handle the overflow. But when he found that this would cost considerably more than repairing the old break and restoring the dam to somewhere near its original height, he chose the latter course.\n\nThe first indication in Johnstown and thereabouts that a change was in the offing above South Fork was an item in the Tribune on October 14, 1879. \"Rumors\" were reported that a summer resort was to be built by a Western Game and Fish Association. The next day there was a notice calling for fifty men to work, but no name of the organization was given.\n\nFor some reason or other, intentionally or otherwise, the Pittsburgh men kept the correct name of their organization from receiving any kind of public notice. It was a course of action which would later be interpreted as evidence that they had had no desire for anyone to come looking into their business in general, or their charter in particular.\n\nRuff set about repairing the dam by boarding up the stone culvert and dumping in every manner of local rock, mud, brush, hemlock boughs, hay, just about everything at hand. Even horse manure was used in some quantity. The discharge pipes were not replaced, and the \"engineering\" techniques employed made a profound impression on the local bystanders.\n\nThe man immediately in charge of this mammoth face-lifting was one Edward Pearson, about whom little is known except that he seems to have been an employee of a Pittsburgh freight-hauling company that did business with the railroad and that he had no engineering credentials at all.\n\nThe entire rebuilding of the dam ended up costing the club about $17,000, and there was trouble from the start. On Christmas Day, 1879, only a month or so after work had begun, a downpour carried away most of the repairs. Work was discontinued until the following summer. Then, less than a year later, in February of 1881, once again heavy rains caused serious damages.\n\nNo one seems to have been particularly discouraged by all this, however. Along toward the end of March the lake was deep enough for the clubmen to go ahead with their plan to stock it. The first of the small steamboats was being assembled and the clubhouse was close to being readied for the grand opening. In early June the fish arrived by special tank car from Lake Erie, 1,000 black bass, which ended up costing the club about a dollar apiece by the time the last expenses were paid. According to the Tribune, which noted these and all other bits of news it could uncover concerning the club, only three of the fish died, \"one of which was a huge old chap, weighing over three pounds.\"\n\nThe Tribune had also reported earlier that the Pennsylvania was planning to build a narrow-gauge spur from South Fork to the lake and that the clubmen were shopping about for land downriver from Johnstown where they intended to establish a private deer park of 1,500 acres. Neither claim was true, but both seemed perfectly reasonable and fitted in with the picture most Johnstown people had of the club and its members. Would not even the high and mighty Pennsylvania Railroad gladly provide any number of special conveniences for the likes of such men? Was not a deer park a fitting aristocratic touch for their new mountain domain? Certainly money was no problem. Were not the members of the club millionaires to the man?\n\nThe plain truth was that a goodly number of them were; quite a few of them, however, were not, and two or three of them were a great deal better than millionaires. But by the standards of most men, they were, every last one of them, extraordinarily rich and influential. Yet, one of the curious things about the club is that the make-up of its membership, exactly who was who at the lake, was not generally known around Johnstown. If the club appears to have been rather cozy about its name, it was even more so about publicizing who belonged to it. Not until well after the events of May 31, 1889, was a full list of the membership published publicly. And quite a list it was.\n\nThe membership of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, according to its initial plans, was never to exceed one hundred sportsmen and their families. The membership fee was $800. There was to be no shooting on Sundays; and those members who did not have cottages of their own were limited to a two-week stay at the clubhouse. As the summer season of 1889 was approaching, there was a total of sixty-one names on the membership roster.\n\nThe South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, it should be kept in mind, was a most unostentatious affair by contrast to such watering spots of the time as Newport, Cape May, or the lavish new lakeside resort in New York, Tuxedo Park. There was no opulence. There were no liveried footmen, no Tirolean-hatted gamekeepers such as at Tuxedo, no \"cottage\" architecture to approach the likes of Newport. There was not even a comparison to be made, unless the South Fork group was to be measured by the per capita worth of its members\u2014or the industrial and financial power they wielded\u2014which, everything considered, was often the way such things were measured. On that basis the little resort on Lake Conemaugh was right in the same league.\n\nOne Pittsburgh newspaper called it the \"Bosses Club,\" and aptly so. Carnegie's name by itself on the membership list would have been reason enough. And the same holds for Henry Clay Frick, for much had happened to the young \"Coke King\" since he had first joined with Benjamin Ruff to launch the club.\n\nIn 1881, while in New York, Frick had stopped by the Windsor Hotel on Fifth Avenue to pay a call on Carnegie and his mother and to talk a little business. (Frick happened to be on his honeymoon at the time, but he was not the man to let that, or anything else, stand in the way of progress.) When the meeting was over, he and Carnegie were partners in the coke trade, and from then on it did even better than before. By 1889 the H. C. Frick Coke Company was capitalized at $5 million; it owned or controlled 35,000 acres of coal land and employed some 11,000 men. Moreover, in January of that year, Frick had been made Chairman of Carnegie, Phipps & Company, which meant that he was commander in chief of the whole of the Carnegie iron and steel enterprises, which were by then the biggest in the world.\n\nCarnegie by this time had said something to the effect that he was not much interested in making more money and was spending no more than six months a year at his business. He wanted someone who could manage things. In Frick, whom he did not especially like and whom no one seemed quite able to fathom, he found exactly the right man. By 1889 this humorless, solitary, complex son of a German farmer, who was then still six months from turning forty, was the most important man in Pittsburgh.\n\nAlong with Frick, the club roster included Henry Phipps, Jr., Carnegie's partner since the earliest days of the business, before the Civil War. A pale, painstaking man who stood no more than an inch taller than the five-foot-two Carnegie, Phipps was the financial wizard of Carnegie, Phipps & Company. In the early days he had won certain acclaim for his ability to borrow money for the struggling ironworks and for an old horse he owned, which, according to Pittsburgh legend, was capable of taking him on his rounds of the banks without any guidance whatsoever. By 1889, however, Phipps was one of the three or four top men in the steel business and one of the wealthy men of the country.\n\nBesides the big three\u2014Carnegie, Frick, and Phipps\u2014the Carnegie empire was also represented at South Fork by John G. A. Leishman, the vice-chairman of the firm, and by Philander Chase Knox, a bright little sparrow of a man, who was the company's number-one lawyer as well as the personal counsel for both Carnegie and Frick.\n\nThen there were Robert Pitcairn and Andrew Mellon, two excellent friends to have if you were doing business in Pittsburgh. Pitcairn ran the Pittsburgh Division of the Pennsylvania Railroad, which, as jobs went in those days, was a most lofty position indeed. In terms of pure power and prestige, few men outranked him.\n\nMellon was a shy, frail-looking young man, still in his thirties, and exceedingly quick-witted. Along with his father, old Judge Mellon, he was in the banking business, T. Mellon & Sons, and up to his elbows in the financial doings behind much of Pittsburgh's furious industrial growth. It had been the Mellons who lent Henry Frick the money to buy his first coal land, and who backed him again (with something like $100,000) during the panic of 1873 when he wanted to buy up still more. (One story has it that Judge Mellon, who was a staunch Methodist, made the loan only after Frick implied that he would use his influence to have the Overholt distillery shut down.) Frick and young Andrew were not far apart in age and became fast friends, traveling to Europe together, dealing in business for years, but never calling each other anything but Mister Frick and Mister Mellon.\n\nJames Chambers and H. Sellers McKee ran what they claimed was the largest window-glass works on earth. Durbin Horne and C. B. Shea ran Pittsburgh's leading department store, Joseph Home and Company. D. W. C. Bidwell sold DuPont blasting powder for coal mining. Calvin Wells, A. French, James Lippincott, and John W. Chalfant were in the steel business in one way or other.\n\nAnd so the list went. It included names from the Pittsburgh \"Blue Book\" (Thaw, Laughlin, McClintock, Scaife) and from the lists of directors of several Pittsburgh banks (Schoonmaker, Moorhead, Caldwell). There were among them the founders of the city's new business club, the Duquesne Club, and the new preparatory school for young men, Shady Side Academy.\n\nThere were also among them, it is interesting to note, a future Secretary of the Treasury (Mellon, who would serve under Harding, Coolidge, and Hoover) and a future Secretary of State (Knox, who would be Attorney General under McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt before taking over the State Department under Taft). There was one future Congressman (George F. Huff, who was a banker and coal operator), a future diplomat (John G. A. Leishman, who would be America's first Ambassador to Turkey), and a future President of the Pennsylvania Railroad (Samuel Rea).\n\nFrick and Mellon would not only go on to amass fortunes of spectacular proportions, but would also demonstrate surprisingly good taste in putting together two of the world's finest private art collections. Carnegie, who was already worth many millions, would wind up with more money than any other American except old John D. Rockefeller and would give away well over $300 million of it with no little fanfare.\n\nIn 1889, however, all that was still a good way off. The Carnegie whiskers had not as yet turned their glistening white. No palaces had been built for Carnegie or Frick on New York's Fifth Avenue. No Rembrandt's had been bought, no daughters married off to titled Europeans, no parks donated, no foundations established. Carnegie thus far had built only one of his free libraries, in Braddock, near Pittsburgh and the site of his gigantic Edgar Thomson works, which he had named after his old friend Thomson, who also happened to be his best customer. At the dedication of the Braddock library in March of 1889, Carnegie used the opportunity to say that he would certainly like to build another one in Homestead someday, but that there had been really far too much labor trouble over there. The implication was pretty obvious and suggested that the purpose behind these earliest benefactions at least may not have been altogether altruistic.\n\nGood works, public service, and any ideas about giving away surplus money were all still things of the future.\n\nIt was in fact during the month of May 1889 that Carnegie was finishing up a magazine article to become known as \"The Gospel of Wealth,\" in which he said, and much to the consternation of his Pittsburgh associates, \"The man who dies thus rich dies disgraced.\" The gist of the article was that the rich, like the poor, would always be with us. The present system had its inequities, certainly, and many of them were disgraceful. But the system was a good deal better than any other so far. The thing for the rich man to do was to divide his life into two parts. The first part should be for acquisition, the second for distribution. At this stage the gentlemen of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club were attending strictly to the first part. Business was the overriding preoccupation for now, and business in Pittsburgh, either directly or indirectly, meant the steel business, which in 1889 was doing just fine.\n\nTrue, orders for steel rails had tapered off some. Breakneck railroad building in the west had meant palmy days in the accounting offices along the Allegheny and Monongahela. Seventy-three thousand miles of track had been put down in the 1880's, or more than twice as much track as there had been in the whole country when the war ended at Appomattox. Steel production had more than tripled during those ten years. But now there were also orders for all sorts of architectural steel, huge beams and girders for totally new kinds of buildings called \"skyscrapers\" which were going up in Chicago. In 1887 the Government had made its first order for American steel for ship armor. A new kind of Navy was being built, a steel Navy, including, in 1889, a battleship called the Maine, the biggest thing ever built by the Navy, for which Carnegie, Phipps & Company was making the steel plates.\n\nAnd if the rail business was not quite as good as it had been, the United States was, nonetheless, producing about two tons of rails for every one made in England. As a matter of fact, for three years now, the United States had been the leading steel producer in the world. Pittsburgh, which before the war had not had a single mill as big as those in Johnstown, was now throbbing like no other industrial center in the land. The sprawling complex of mills in Chicago had been providing serious competition of late. Prices were not as high as the steel men would have liked to see them (they never were), and there was more talk among them every week about cutting wages. But if the labor leaders could be dealt with (and there was no reason to think they could not be), then there was every reason to believe that Pittsburgh would keep booming for years.\n\nAs far as the gentlemen of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club were concerned no better life could be asked for. They were an early-rising, healthy, hard-working, no-nonsense lot, Scotch-Irish most of them, Freemasons, tough, canny, and, without question, extremely fortunate to have been in Pittsburgh at that particular moment in history.\n\nThey were men who put on few airs. They believed in the sanctity of private property and the protective tariff. They voted the straight Republican ticket and had only recently, in the fall of 1888, contributed heavily to reinstate a Republican, the aloof little Harrison, in the White House. They trooped off with their large families regularly Sunday mornings to one of the more fashionable of Pittsburgh's many Presbyterian churches. They saw themselves as God-fearing, steady, solid people, and, for all their new fortunes, most of them were.\n\nQuite a few had come from backgrounds as humble as Carnegie's. Phipps and Pitcairn were Scotch immigrants who had been boyhood pals with Carnegie in what was known as Slabtown, one of the roughest sections of Allegheny, across the river from Pittsburgh. Leishman grew up in an orphanage. Frick, despite the wealth of grandfather Overholt, had started out in business with little more than a burning desire to get rich.\n\nThey and the others were now living in cavernous, marble-floored houses in the new East End section of Pittsburgh. Several made regular trips to Europe, and those who did not always stopped at the finest hotels in New York or wherever else they went. They now considered themselves, each and all, as among the \"best people\" in Pittsburgh. They pretty well ran the city. They were living the good life as they thought the good life ought to be lived. But never for very long did they take their eye off the real business of the human condition as they saw it\u2014which was business. That they should spend some time together in the summer months, away from Pittsburgh, but not too far away, mind you, seemed, no doubt, a perfectly natural extension of the whole process.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nThe reaction in Johnstown to their doings on the mountain was mixed. That the Pittsburghers with all their money should think enough of the country around Johnstown to want to summer there was, of course, terribly flattering. As far back as the 1850's there had been some discussion in Johnstown about the area's potential as a summer resort. One Tribune editor decided to set forth Johnstown's charms in no uncertain terms. \"Our scenery is grand beyond description,\" he wrote, \"the atmosphere cool, and invigorating; trout in the neighboring streams large and numerous; drives good; women beautiful and accomplished; men all gentlemen and scholars, hotels as good as the best.\" For all anyone knew, the South Fork venture might lead to other resort developments in the area. The valley might become famous; property values would mount. It was not an unpleasant thought.\n\nThe club had already provided a lot of work in the South Fork area, and much to the irritation of the club's management it had also provided some excellent sport for local anglers. Slipping onto the property in the early morning or toward sundown was no problem for a local man or boy. The well-stocked lake and streams provided any number of suppers in the neighborhood from the time the dam was first restored. The grounds were well posted, but that discouraged nobody especially. If anything, it only added to the fun.\n\nWhen the club responded by putting in fences over the best trout streams, the fences mysteriously disappeared. Relations then deteriorated fast, with the club authorities threatening to shoot any invaders caught on the grounds after dark. During a flood in 1885, one farmer named Leahy, whose property adjoined the lake, decided to rent out fishing space on some of his submerged acreage. The clubmen said he ought not to do that and threatened to take him to court. This had no effect on Leahy, so they tried to buy him out, but he said he was not interested in selling. It was only after an intermediary was brought in, and lengthy negotiations transacted, that the farm was purchased for $4,000 and the fish thereby further protected.\n\nAny love lost locally by such tactics apparently bothered the club management not in the least. A classic undeclared war between poacher and country squire went on for years. It never became a shooting war, despite the threats, but it did leave widespread resentment in the area around the lake that would one day come back to haunt the clubmen.\n\nFar more important, however, was the way people felt about the dam.\n\nEven before the first full season at South Fork got under way in 1881, the dam threw a terrific scare into the people in the valley. On the morning of June 10, during a flash flood, a rumor spread through Johnstown that the dam was about to break. This was the first spring in years that there was a head of water of any size behind the mammoth earth embankment, and it was the first of the many springs from then until 1889 that just such rumors would fly from door to door, across back alleys, up and down Main Street, and all along the line between Johnstown and South Fork.\n\nThis time the Cambria Iron Company sent two of its men to the lake with instructions to make a critical examination. The dam looked perfectly solid to the Johnstown men, and they returned home with their report in time to make the evening edition of the paper. The fact that they had found the water only two feet from the breast of the dam did not seem to disturb them especially, or the editors of the Tribune.\n\nThe paper summed up its story as follows: \"Several of our citizens who have recently examined the dam state it as their opinion that the embankment is perfectly safe to stand all the pressure that can be brought to bear on it, while others are a little dubious in the matter. We do not consider there is much cause for alarm, as even in the event of the dyke breaking there is plenty of room for the water to spread out before reaching here, and no damage of moment would result.\"\n\nThere it was, in one sentence. In the first place, the dam was probably sound, and even if it did fail not a great deal would happen since the dam was so far away. It was a strange piece of reasoning to say the least, but there it was in the evening paper for everyone, including the alarmists, to read and talk about.\n\nStill, that very night, panic swept through the west end of town, which was the lowest end of town and that part which would have been hardest hit by anything coming down the valley of the Little Conemaugh. People were up through the night \"in mortal dread for fear the old Reservoir near South Fork might break,\" the Tribune reported the next day. So apparently the paper could say what it might about \"no damage of moment\"; people were still unsettled, and especially on nights when the dark and the drenching rain blotted out the landscape and imaginations filled with an ancient terror of death raging out of the mountains.\n\nBut nothing happened. Dawn rolled around as usual; the day began. The long shadow of Green Hill slipped back from mid-town as the sun climbed into the sky; life went on. And it looked as though the paper and everyone who thought along the same lines were right after all. There was really no cause to get excited.\n\nFrom then on, practically every time there was high water in Johnstown there would be talk about the dam breaking. One longtime resident was later quoted at length in the newspapers in New York and elsewhere: \"We were afraid of that lake . . . No one could see the immense height to which that artificial dam had been built without fearing the tremendous power of the water behind it . . . I doubt if there is a man or a woman in Johnstown who at sometime or other had not feared and spoken of the terrible disaster that might ensue. People wondered and asked why the dam was not strengthened, as it certainly had become weak; but nothing was done, and by and by they talked less and less about it . . .\" He also evidently had misgivings about the \"tremendous power\" of the men who had owned the dam, for he chose to withhold his name.\n\nOthers came forth at the same time, that is, after May 31, 1889, claiming to have long held doubts about the engineering of the dam, and premonitions of doom for the whole valley of the Conemaugh. Assuredly most of them spoke from deep conviction; but exactly how much widespread, serious, public concern there was, and particularly in the years of the late '80's, is very hard to say.\n\nCertainly there was every reason to have been concerned. The valley from the lake down to Johnstown had sides as steep as a sluice, and there was only one way the water could go if the dam failed. Floods hit the area almost as regularly as spring itself. Johnstown rarely got through a year without water in the streets at least once, and often for several days at a time.\n\nFloods had been a problem from the time of the very earliest settlements in the valley. Lately, for the past ten years or so, they had been getting worse.\n\nThe very first flood anyone had bothered to make a record of in Johnstown destroyed a dam. That was in 1808, and it had been only a small dam across the Stony Creek which had been put in as a millrace for one of the first forges. Then there were the so-called Pumpkin Floods of a dozen years later. They hit in the fall and had swept what looked like every pumpkin in Cambria County down into town. In 1847 another little dam on the Stony Creek broke. During the flood of 1875 the Conemaugh rose two feet in a single hour. In 1880 again another dam broke; it had been built by Cambria Iron as a feeder for the mills and was about sixteen feet high, but it was located below town, so no damage was caused. During the next eight years there were seven floods, including three bad ones in 1885, '87, and '88.\n\nThe reasons were obvious enough to anyone who took the time to think about the problem, which quite a few were doing by 1889. With the valley crowding up the way it was, the need for lumber and land was growing apace. As a result more and more timber was being stripped off the mountains and near hills, and in Johnstown the river channels were being narrowed to make room for new buildings and, in several places, to make it easier to put bridges across.\n\nForests not only retain enormous amounts of water in the soil (about 800 tons per acre), but in mountainous country especially, they hold the soil itself, and in winter they hold snow. Where the forests were destroyed, spring thaws and summer thunderstorms would send torrents racing down the mountainsides; and each year the torrents grew worse as the water itself tore away at the soil and what little ground cover there was left. Then, in the valley, where the water was being dumped ever more suddenly, the size of rivers which had to carry it all was being steadily whittled away at by industry and the growing population. So there was always a little less river to handle more runoff, and flash floods were the inevitable result.\n\nSome men in Johnstown, curiously enough, thought that encroaching on the river channels would simply force the water to dig deeper channels. But this was impossible because the river beds were nearly all rock. When the volume of water increased, the rivers only came up, and often very fast. In the 1885 flood the Stony Creek rose three feet in forty-five minutes.\n\nThe dam was going to break that year, too, and every year, except one or two, up until 1889. At George Heiser's store, people would come in out of the rain to buy something or just to pass the time in a dry, warm place and nearly always someone said, \"Well, this is the day the old dam is going to break.\" It was becoming something of a local joke. Many years later Victor Heiser would recall, \"The townspeople, like those who live in the shadow of Vesuvius, grew calloused to the possibility of danger. 'Sometime,' they thought, 'that dam will give way, but it won't ever happen to us!' \"\n\nWhen there were warnings of trouble up the mountain, very few took them to heart. The dam always held despite the warnings. People got tired of hearing about a disaster that never happened. And after all, was not the dam owned by some of the most awesome men in the country? If there was anything to worry about certainly they would know about it.\n\nThe Tribune continued to imply that there was no cause for alarm. In 1887 the editors again allowed that a break at South Fork would not greatly affect Johnstown, unless it \"occurred in conjunction with a great flood in the Conemaugh Valley which is one of the possibilities not worth worrying about.\" Readers all through town nodded in agreement. On the afternoon of May 31, 1889, shortly before four, one leading citizen was asked how much higher he thought the water would rise in the valley if the dam let go. His answer was \"About two feet.\"\n\n### -3-\n\nIt would appear, in fact, that Johnstown's leading citizens had taken little or no intelligent account of the threat the dam posed, were it not for some highly interesting letters that changed hands during the year 1880.\n\nWhen Benjamin Ruff first began his restoration of the old dam in the fall of '79, the management of the Cambria Iron Company, in the words of its solicitor, Cyrus Elder, became \"extremely exercised\" over the news. The management at that time was a man by the name of Daniel Johnson Morrell.\n\nMorrell was one of the foremost ironmasters of the age, a ruddy-faced Quaker with gray eyes, who wore his whiskers beneath his jowls, so it appeared he was forever sporting a hair scarf. He looked upon the likes of Carnegie as parvenus in the business, brash, unprincipled upstarts who were not real ironmen at all, but harum-scarum drummers who had jumped into something they knew nothing about just to make a quick fortune. Beside the almost elflike Carnegie or Frick, he looked as though he were of another species. He was under six feet tall, but with his massive, thick shoulders and ample girth (he weighed well over 200 pounds), coming along Main Street he looked every bit the most powerful man in town.\n\nBut according to one of his contemporaries, \"With all the responsibilities of his position, with all the care and concern of the great works on his hands, he never seemed worried or out of humor. When he left his desk at the close of the day he seemed to be able to shut off all thought of work; and in the midst of other persons' worry and nervousness in the most distressing times, he would lie down and sleep as contentedly as a child.\"\n\nAside from running the Iron Company, Morrell presided at most town meetings and was President of the Savings Bank and the First National Bank, the water company and the gas company. He had served two terms in Congress and was still a powerful voice in the Republican Party. For many years he was the President of the American Iron and Steel Association, an organization which did as much as any to protect the protective tariff.\n\nHe lived on Main Street in the finest house in Johnstown, a tall brick house with a mansard roof, painted white and set among gardens and shade trees on a lawn that took up a full city block. He had the only greenhouses in town, a full-time gardener, and all his property was enclosed with an ornamental iron fence. Children used to gather by the fence after school, hoping for a chance to look at him. \"Whatever Mr. Morrell wants, well that's it,\" they heard at home. He was the king of Johnstown.\n\nMorrell had been born in Maine, in 1821 (which made him fourteen years senior to Carnegie), but grew up in Philadelphia and started out clerking in a mercantile store. He had moved to Johnstown in the 1850's when the Philadelphia financial backers of the then floundering Cambria Iron Company sent him to see what might be done to keep the works from going bankrupt.\n\nBackwoods iron forges had been in operation in Cambria County for fifty years and more. With plenty of ore, limestone, and coal in the locale, the prospects for turning the Conemaugh Valley into an iron center of some real consequence looked extremely bright. But until Morrell came to town the industry had been beset by repeated failures. Morrell, however, succeeded handsomely. Knowing nothing about the iron business, he reorganized the company, and despite fires and financial panic, he kept his nerve, maintaining to the Philadelphia money men that the works would one day prosper.\n\nBy the start of the Civil War the Cambria Iron Company was the biggest iron-producing center in the country. In addition, Morrell had encouraged some rather primitive and haphazard research into a new pneumatic process for making steel which contributed substantially to dramatic changes in the iron business and, for that matter, in the whole character and growth of the country.\n\nIn 1856 a man named William Kelly, a Pittsburgher by birth, moved from Eddyville, Kentucky, to Johnstown to set up in one corner of the Cambria yard some experimental apparatus which he assembled from scrap-heap parts and pieces. Kelly was in Johnstown off and on for the next three years. He became known among the millworkers as \"The Irish Crank,\" and not without justification. His attempts to \"refine\" molten iron for the rolling mill by blowing air into it had resulted in repeated failures and at least one serious fire, which became known as \"Kelly's Fireworks.\" But later on, in 1862, he came back to try again, this time with an egg-shaped \"converter\" made abroad, and the accepted story is that he had better luck. Kelly would later be credited with having built the converter himself and with developing at Johnstown something very close to what became known as the Bessemer process, a technique for converting iron into steel at far less cost and in considerably larger quantities than had been possible before.\n\nHenry Bessemer, a brilliant English chemist, had devised just such a process at about the time Kelly first arrived at the Cambria works, and, deservedly enough, got nearly all of the credit. The Bessemer converter used a blast of air directed through molten iron to oxidize, or burn off, most of the carbon impurities in the metal to make steel. Previous steelmaking techniques required weeks, even months. The Bessemer process could produce good-quality steel in less than one hour.\n\nIt was one of the important technological innovations of all time, and Morrell was among the first to recognize just what its impact might be. He financed Kelly's erratic pioneering in the technique for close to five years and after the war invested heavily in new Bessemer equipment. In the late '60's and '70's Johnstown was the liveliest steel center in the country, with the most inventive minds in the industry gathering there\u2014the Fritz brothers, George and John, Bill Jones, and the brilliant and energetic Alexander Holley.\n\nMoreover, Morrell had Cambria Iron do something no other steel company experimenting with the Bessemer process dared try, and something that was to prove immensely beneficial to Andrew Carnegie. He used only American workers, training Pennsylvania farm boys to understand and master the new technology, while everyone else in the business was importing English workers already familiar with it. At first there were months of costly setbacks and disappointments in Johnstown, but the results in the long run proved Morrell right.\n\nIn 1867, from ingots made at Steelton, the first Bessemer rails to be rolled on order in the United States came out of the Cambria mill. By 1871 Morrell had one of the first really big Bessemer plants in operation, and for the next five years Cambria would be the largest producer in the country, if not the world.\n\nThe war had brought flush times and dazzling increases in iron production capacities. But now the age of cheap steel was on. By the time of the late 1880's, Cambria Iron had some 7,000 men on the payroll. The works consisted of the Johnstown furnaces Numbers 1, 2, 3, and 4 in one plant, with stacks seventy-five feet high and sixteen feet in diameter at the base. Blast furnaces Numbers 5 and 6 were in a second plant. The hulking Bessemer plant was the main building. Then there was a huge open-hearth building, a rolling mill that was nearly 2,000 feet long, a bolt-and-nut works, and an axle shop.\n\nAdded to that the company owned and operated its own coal mines, coke ovens, and railroads. It was the largest landowner by far in the county, having bought up thousands of acres around Johnstown, coal holdings primarily, which were, in many places, used as tremendous farms where nothing but hay was grown to feed the animals used in the mills and mines. The company also owned some 700 frame houses which it rented to its workers, a big department store, and the Gautier Steel Company, a subsidiary, where Cambria Link Barbed Wire was made.\n\nTo all intents and purposes, Johnstown, in other words, was a company town and an important one at that. And appropriately enough the company ran the place with an iron hand. Labor unions were not to be tolerated, nor were employees who dared even to talk such treason.\n\nFor example, Rule Number 9 of the plant regulations published in 1874 stated: \"Any person or persons known to belong to any secret association or open combination whose aim is to control wages or stop the works or any part thereof shall be promptly and finally discharged. Persons not satisfied with their work or their wages can leave honorably by giving the required notice . . .\"\n\nThe Cambria Iron Company, which meant Mr. Daniel J. Morrell, left no doubts as to where it stood on such matters. So there were no unions in the mill, and inside the high, green fence that surrounded it, work went on around the clock, around the calendar, without any trouble from the help.\n\nIt would be mistaken, however, to imagine Cambria Iron as an entirely overbearing or inhuman organization, grinding down its employees. By the standards of the day, it was quite progressive and looked out for the welfare of its people and the town with uncommon paternalism.\n\nIn his first speech in Congress, Morrell had said, \"The American workingman must live in a house, not a hut; he must wear decent clothes and eat wholesome and nourishing food. He is an integral part of the municipality, the State, and the Nation; subject to no fetters of class or caste; neither pauper, nor peasant, nor serf, but a free American citizen.\" Judged by the standards of his time, he was almost as good as his word.\n\nIn one of its plants the Iron Company maintained the eight-hour day, a practice that had been tried and abandoned by every other steel company, which meant, as one of the trade-union newspapers pointed out, that the only eight-hour mill left in the country was a nonunion mill.\n\nThe town hospital was built by the company and anyone injured on the job received free treatment there. It was the company also which had established the library and a night school where its employees could learn elementary science, mechanical drawing, and engineering. At the company store, Wood, Morrell & Company, which advertised itself as \"The Most Extensive and Best Appointed Establishment in its Class in the United States,\" prices were quite reasonable. At the time the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club was organized, Cambria Iron had somewhere in the neighborhood of $50 million invested in Johnstown and along the valley. So Morrell, very understandably, had special interest in what the Pittsburgh men were up to. That he held no special good feelings toward some of the clubmen also seems likely.\n\nWhen Carnegie, who had once stoutly proclaimed that \"pioneering don't pay,\" decided the time was right to get into the Bessemer steel business and Carnegie, Phipps & Company built the Edgar Thomson works at Braddock in the early 1870's, he had raided Cambria Iron of its best workers. Among these men, most of whom had been working with pneumatic conversion techniques since Kelly's days in Johnstown, was the tough, gifted little Welshman, Bill Jones.\n\nCaptain Bill Jones, as he was known, had been with Morrell for sixteen years. He had acquired a vast knowledge of the new process and had built a tremendous following among the men at Cambria Iron, largely for his robust, freewheeling willingness not to do things according to the rules if the rules did not suit him. It was the sort of reputation Carnegie took a special interest in. Carnegie never did learn much about steelmaking, but he had a gift for finding men who did, and if they were somewhat unorthodox, so much the better.\n\nWhen the manager of the Cambria works, George Fritz, died and Morrell had to pick a man to replace him, he turned Jones down for the job, giving it instead to another Jones who seemed a steadier sort. At which point Carnegie immediately moved in and offered Bill Jones a two-dollar-a-day job at Braddock. Jones not only accepted but took a number of his \"high-class graduates\" along with him. Within one year, by 1876, the Edgar Thomson mill moved ahead of Cambria in production. Carnegie, on a mountaintop in Italy, literally danced with joy on hearing the news. And as Edgar Thomson continued to break every other production record, it was Bill Jones, not Carnegie or his associates, who got the credit from anyone who knew anything about steelmaking. Jones's papers on production techniques were read before learned societies in Europe. In Pittsburgh he became so important to the Carnegie empire that Carnegie decided to make him a partner, an offer which Jones flatly refused, feeling that he would lose his influence with the men if he ever so openly joined forces with management.\n\n\"Just pay me one hell of a salary,\" Jones said to Carnegie.\n\nTo which Carnegie shot back, \"All right, Captain, the salary of the President of the United States is yours.\"\n\n\"That's the talk,\" said Jones. The salary was $25,000 a year.\n\nSo now, if the Pittsburgh crowd was about to go tampering with the South Fork dam, Daniel J. Morrell wanted to know more about their doings than could be gained from mere hearsay. There was too much at stake to go on their word alone. He had no intention of stopping them, as he made clear later on. He had never been one to stand in the way of progress. He had welcomed innovations throughout his working life, and it seems he never objected to this one on principle. He only wanted to be satisfied that the work was being properly managed. He had seen enough explosions and fires at the mill to have a fair idea of the violent consequences of bungled innovation. He had also had some experience with dams, having personally supervised the installation of several small ones put in near town by the water company.\n\nIn November of 1880 he sent John Fulton to look over the job. Fulton was an engineer by training and profession, but he was also the next in line to succeed Morrell as head of the works. Morrell, in other words, was not just sending any ordinary employee to South Fork.\n\nA lean Ulster County Irishman, Fulton wore his beard close-cropped and had a fix to his mouth like General Grant's. He had wonderfully heavy eyebrows and a resolute gaze that gave him the look of an Old Testament prophet. He was a man to reckon with, one of Johnstown's most ardent temperance leaders and a pillar at the Presbyterian Church, where he taught Sunday school and would be long remembered for closing his Bible classes with the most interminable prayers ever uttered by man.\n\nFulton had made his reputation as a mining engineer and geologist before joining Morrell at Cambria Iron. That there was anyone in Johnstown better qualified to pass judgment on the dam is doubtful. Nor was there any man, save Morrell himself, who was less likely to be dazzled or cowed in any way by the representatives of the club, a factor which Morrell must have taken into account.\n\nFulton was met at South Fork by two club members, Colonel E. J. Unger and C. A. Carpenter, as well as some of the contractors who had worked on the dam. His report was filed in a letter to Morrell dated November 26. The letter began by stating that he had gone as requested to inspect the dam now owned by the \"Sportsmen's Association of Western Pennsylvania.\" (The correct name of the club was evidently still unknown to the Cambria management.) He then said that he did not think the repairs were done in \"a careful and substantial manner, or with the care demanded in a large structure of this kind.\" He stated that he believed the dam's weight was sufficient to hold back the water, but that he had grave misgivings about other aspects of the dam:\n\nThere appear to me two serious elements of danger in this dam. First, the want of a discharge pipe to reduce or take the water out of the dam for needed repairs. Second, the unsubstantial method of repair, leaving a large leak, which appears to be cutting the new embankment.\n\nAs the water cannot be lowered, the difficulty arises of reaching the source of the present destructive leaks. At present there is forty feet of water in the dam, when the full head of 60 feet is reached, it appears to me to be only a question of time until the former cutting is repeated. Should this break be made during a season of flood, it is evident that considerable damage would ensue along the line of the Conemaugh.\n\nIt is impossible to estimate how disastrous this flood would be, as its force would depend on the size of the breach in the dam with proportional rapidity of discharge.\n\nThe stability of the dam can only be assured by a thorough overhauling of the present lining on the upper slopes, and the construction of an ample discharge pipe to reduce or remove the water to make necessary repairs.\n\nMorrell promptly sent the report to Ruff, who responded on December 2.\n\nRuff was not much impressed by Fulton's findings. He pointed out to Morrell that Fulton did not have the correct name of the club, and told Morrell what that name was. He said there was no leak such as Fulton claimed and that Fulton's figures on the comparative weights of the water and the dam were off, since Fulton had overestimated how much water was in the lake. The tone was one of obvious impatience and suggested not very subtly that Morrell would do well to hire himself a more competent man. He ended the letter by saying:\n\nWe consider his conclusions as to our only safe course of no more value than his other assertions. . . . you and your people are in no danger from our enterprise.\n\nVery respectfully,\n\nB. F. Ruff, President\n\nRuff, quite clearly, was not in the least interested in continuing the discussion. The club had managed nicely to keep its affairs private until then, and the idea of any prolonged or possibly complicated negotiations with the Cambria Iron Company had small appeal.\n\nMorrell, however, was unwilling to let it go at that. On December 22 he answered Ruff's letter. After a few opening courtesies, he got to the heart of the issue:\n\n. . . I note your criticism of Mr. Fulton's former report, and judge that in some of his statements he may have been in error, but think that his conclusions in the main were correct.\n\nWe do not wish to put any obstruction in the way of your accomplishing your object in the reconstruction of this dam; but we must protest against the erection of a dam at that place, that will be a perpetual menace to the lives and property of those residing in this upper valley of the Conemaugh, from its insecure construction. In my judgment there should have been provided some means by which the water would be let out of the dam in case of trouble, and I think you will find it necessary to provide an outlet pipe or gate before any engineer could pronounce the job a safe one. If this dam could be securely reconstructed with a safe means of driving off the water in case any weakness manifests itself, I would regard the accomplishment of this work as a very desirable one, and if some arrangement could be made with your association by which the store of water in this reservoir could be used in time of drouth in the mountains, this Company would be willing to cooperate with you in the work, and would contribute liberally toward making the dam absolutely safe.\n\nMorrell, in short, was suggesting exactly what Fulton had urged: give the dam a major overhaul and install a discharge system of some sort. At the same time, he was making it plain that Cambria Iron considered the present job shoddy enough, the situation critical enough, to be willing to help foot the bill to set things right.\n\nThe offer was declined. The matter was dropped\u2014almost.\n\nMorrell felt that just to be on the safe side it might be a good idea to have an inside view of doings at the lake. So he decided to join the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, and evidently the Pittsburgh men had no objections. Morrell therefore purchased two memberships in his own name.\n\nIt was not for another nine years that engineers from many parts of the country came to the site of the dam to study what had gone wrong. Fulton's findings appeared to have been correct. But there were four other changes in the dam which Ruff and his men had made which Fulton had not noticed, and these were as crucial to what finally happened as the faults Fulton cited.\n\nTo begin with, in order to provide room for a road across the breast, the height of the dam had been lowered from one to three feet. This would give enough width for two carriages crossing the dam to pass each other comfortably. But it also meant that the capacity of the spillway had been reduced, for now the bottom of the spillway was not ten or eleven feet lower than the crest of the dam, but perhaps only seven or eight feet. This was a very significant change, since it meant that a rising lake would start to go over the top of the dam that much sooner.\n\nThen, too, a screen of iron rods, each about half an inch in diameter, had been put across the spillway to prevent the fish from going over and down into South Fork Creek. The screen was set between the heavy posts which supported the wooden bridge over the spillway. Under normal conditions the combination of posts and screens decreased the spillway capacity only slightly, but they had the potential of decreasing it a great deal should the screens become clogged with debris.\n\nThe third change was probably the most important of all. The dam sagged slightly in the middle, where the old break had been. Exactly how bad the sag was no one was able to say later for certain. It may have been only a foot or two, but according to one study, the crest at the center may have been as much as four feet lower than the ends. The center was where the dam should have been highest and strongest, so in the event that water ever did start over the top, the pressure would be at the ends rather than at the middle. Now the reverse was the case.\n\nTo have seen the sag with a naked eye, and particularly an untrained eye, would have been next to impossible. It is conceivable therefore that it went unnoticed by Ruff and the men who did the reconstruction work. Fulton took no note of it apparently; whether it would have been observed and corrected had experienced engineers been responsible for the reconstruction is a question no one can answer.\n\nWhat it meant in practical terms was that the depth of the spillway was now only about four feet lower than the top of the dam at its center. In other words, if more than four feet of water were going over the spillway, then the lake would start running over the top of the dam at the center where the pressure against it was the greatest.\n\nThe fourth change was unnoticed by Fulton because it had not as yet taken place when he made his inspection. The water then, as he says, was only forty feet deep, which is about the depth it had been kept at during the old days before the first break in 1862. The club, however, brought the level of the lake up to where it was nearly brim full, meaning that the depth ran to sixty-five feet or thereabouts. In spring it sometimes rose even higher. With the lake that full, it was not beyond reason to imagine serious trouble in the event of a severe storm.\n\nBut, as both Fulton and Morrell had made abundantly clear, with the discharge pipes gone, the club was faced with the unfortunate position of not being able to lower the level of the lake, ever, at any time, even if that were its expressed wish.\n\nThe water that high at the dam also meant that the over-all size of the lake was increased. The lake backed up well beyond where it had been in the old days, which lead to the widespread misconception, still current today in and around Johnstown, that the club had actually raised the height of the dam from what it had been.\n\nHow satisfied Morrell was after the business of the letters was over and done with is not known. For when the sun went down behind Laurel Hill on Monday, August 24, 1885, Daniel J. Morrell was in his grave at Sandy Vale. He had been ill for several years, having suffered what appears to have been an advanced case of arteriosclerosis. He had gone into a steady mental decline not long after he took out his membership in the South Fork fishing club. In 1884 he had given up all his various civic responsibilities and retired from business. After that, it seems, senility closed in hard and fast. He was seen almost never, \"lost in mental darkness,\" as one account put it years later. When he died, \"calmly and peacefully\" at eight in the morning on Thursday, August 20, 1885, he was sixty-four years old.\n\nOn Sunday thousands of mourners queued up along the south side of Main Street to go through the iron gates, up the long front walk, and into the big house to view the remains. For three hours the doors were open and a steady procession filed through.\n\nThe next day, from noon until five, the whole town was shut down. The procession that marched out to the cemetery was as fine a display of the town's manhood as anyone had ever seen. Ahead of the hearse tramped men from the Cambria mines and railroads, the rolling mills and blast furnaces, row on row, like an army, followed by the merchants and professional men, the police, the city fathers, men of every sort who worked for or did business with or depended on the Cambria Iron Company, which meant just about everybody. The only sound was the steady beat of their heavy boots and shoes on the cobblestones.\n\nAfter the hearse came the special carriages for the mourners. Bill Kelly and his wife were there; so was Captain Bill Jones, and a Cleveland steel man and family friend named Marcus Alonzo Hanna.\n\nThere never was a bigger or better funeral in Johnstown.\n\nTwo years later, on March 29, 1887, the day a wagonload of fruit trees arrived at his cottage on Lake Conemaugh, Benjamin F. Ruff died suddenly in a hotel in Pittsburgh. The cause of death according to the papers was a carbuncle on the neck.\n\n## III\n\n## \"There's a man came from the lake.\"\n\n### -1-\n\nThe hard, cold rain that had started coming down the night before had eased off considerably by the morning of Friday, May 31. But a thick mist hung in the valley like brushwood smoke and overhead the sky was very dark.\n\nEven before night had ended there had been signs of trouble. At five o'clock a landslide had caved in the stable at Kress's brewery, and anyone who was awake then could hear the rivers. By six everyone who was up and about knew that Johnstown was in for a bad time. The rivers were rising at better than a foot an hour. They were a threatening yellow-brown color and already full of logs and big pieces of lumber that went bounding along as though competing in some sort of frantic race.\n\nWhen the seven o'clock shift arrived at the Cambria mills, the men were soon told to go home and look after their families. By ten there was water in most cellars in the lower part of town. School had been let out, and children were splashing about in the streets with wooden boxes, boards, anything that would make a boat.\n\nOne of the most distinguished residents of the lower part of town was the Honorable W. Horace Rose, Esquire, former cavalry officer, former state legislator, former district attorney of Cambria County, a founder of Johnstown's Literary Society, father of five, respected and successful attorney at law. Rose was a Democrat with a large following among Republicans as well as his own party, and including those Republicans who ran the town and Cambria Iron. He was an expert horseman, slender, erect, and full-bearded, with strong blue eyes and a soft voice which he seldom ever raised.\n\nHe had been born in a log house that had stood at the corner of Vine and Market. At thirteen he had been orphaned when both parents died of cholera within the same hour and had been on his own ever since, first as a bound boy in a tannery, later as a carpenter. When he was nineteen, John Linton, Johnstown's leading lawyer, took him into his office to \"read law.\" Not long after he opened his own office, which he built himself, and got married to Maggie Ramsey of Johnstown. Then came the war, during which he was wounded, captured, and released in time to take part in General Sheridan's Shenandoah Valley campaign.\n\nThe house Horace Rose and his family lived in was downtown, on lower Main Street. He had witnessed nearly every one of Johnstown's floods over the years, and when he heard that the rivers this particular morning were both coming up rapidly at the same time, something they had not done before, he decided to go out after breakfast and see how things were going.\n\nBy the time he and his two youngest sons, Forest and Percy, had finished hitching the team, there was water on the stable floor. Rose took care to use his second-best harness and had one of the boys drive their cow to the hillside, expecting to bring her back down again in a few hours, when the water subsided. Then they climbed into an open wagon and headed down Main, with Rose driving.\n\nHis intention was to pick up anyone toward the river who wished to be evacuated. But by now, which was somewhere near nine, the water that far downtown was too deep to get through safely. So he wheeled around and headed back up Main, going as far as Bedford, where he paused to pass the time with his old friend Charles Zimmerman, the livery-stable owner. For a few moments they watched another cow being led to higher ground.\n\n\"Charlie,\" Rose said, \"you and I have scored fifty years, and this is the first time we ever saw a cow drink Stony Creek river water on Main Street.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" Zimmerman agreed. \"But the water two years ago was higher.\"\n\nAbout then the rain started coming down again as hard as it had during the night, heavy and wind-driven. Rose stopped off long enough to buy his sons rubber raincoats, then proceeded over to the end of Franklin to his office, which was less than a hundred feet from the roaring Stony Creek. For another half-hour he and the boys set about placing his papers and other things well above the flood line of 1887, which was about a foot from the floor. Then they started for home, stopping once more on the way to talk to another old friend, John Dibert, the banker, who was also their next-door neighbor.\n\nThe situation for property holders in the lower part of town was growing serious, Rose and Dibert agreed. This business of flooded cellars every spring had to be corrected. The solution, as they saw it, was to call a meeting to protest the way the Cambria Iron Company had been filling in the riverbanks next to the mills below town. They recalled that town ordinances had fixed the width of the Stony Creek at 175 feet and the Little Conemaugh at 110 feet. This meant that the combined width of the two was 285 feet; but the Conemaugh, which had to carry all the water from both of them, was now less than 200 feet wide near the mills. Obviously, the rivers were bound to back up when flash floods hit, and obviously the Cambria Iron Company would have to restore the riverbed to its original width. With that settled, the two friends parted.\n\nRose went directly home, where he found the water now so deep that he was unable to get near his front door. He sent young Forest with the team to a nearby hillside while he and Percy assembled a makeshift raft and floated over to the back porch. Once inside, like nearly everyone else in town, they busied themselves taking up carpets and furniture. Rose also \"marked with sadness\" that the slowly rising water \"with its muddy freight\" had already ruined his new wallpaper.\n\nThen everyone moved upstairs where the morning took on the air of a family picnic. Forest had been unable to get back to the house after leaving the horses but had signaled from a window across the street that he was high and dry with the Fishers.\n\nHorace Rose called back and forth to Squire Fisher and joked about their troubles while his wife and the others got a fire going in the grate and made some coffee. After a bit Rose got his rifle, went up to the attic, propped himself in a window, and whiled away the time shooting at rats struggling along the wall of a stable in the adjoining lot.\n\nAnd so the morning passed on into afternoon; there was nothing much to do but wait it out and make the best of what, after all, was not such an unpleasant situation.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nThere were hundreds of other families, however, who had seen enough. They began moving out, wading through the streets with bundles of clothing and food precariously balanced on rude rafts, or jammed into half-submerged spring wagons. Here and there a lone rowboat pushed up to a front porch or window ledge to make a clumsy, noisy rescue of women and grandfathers, dogs, cats, and children.\n\nSome people were simply heading for higher ground, without any particular place in mind; others were going to the homes of friends or relatives where they hoped there might not be quite so much water, and where, come nightfall, there might be electricity and a dry kitchen.\n\nA few families went over to the big hotels in the center of town, thinking they would be the safest places of all to ride out the storm. Quite a good many, wherever their destination, went a little sheepishly, dreading the looks and the kidding they would get when they came back home again.\n\nThe water by now, from one end of town to the other, was anywhere from two to ten feet deep. It was already higher than the '87 flood, making it, by noon at least, Johnstown's worst flood on record. The Gautier works had closed down at ten, when Fred Krebs, the manager, was reminded by one of the men that the huge barbed-wire plant stood on fill that had been dumped into the old canal basin, and that once upon a time there had been four feet of water right where they were standing. At eleven, or soon after, a log boom burst up the Stony Creek and sent a wild rush of logs stampeding through the valley until they crashed into the stone bridge below town and jammed in among the massive arches.\n\nNot very long after that the Stony Creek ripped out the Poplar Street Bridge; then, within the hour, the Cambria City Bridge went. At St. John's Catholic Church, which stood far uptown at Jackson and Locust, and so, presumably, well beyond reach of spring floods, the water was so deep that the funeral of Mrs. Mary McNally had to be postponed midway through the service and the casket left in the church.\n\nWorst of all, and unlike any other flood in Johnstown's history, there had been a tragic death. A teamster named Joseph Ross, a father of four children, had been drowned when he fell into a flooded excavation while helping evacuate a stranded family.\n\nAlong Main Street, shopkeepers were working feverishly to move their goods out of reach of the water. In his second-floor office overlooking Franklin and Main, George T. Swank, the cantankerous editor and proprietor of the Tribune, began working on what he planned to be a running log of the day's events, with the intention of publishing it in the next edition, whenever that might be.\n\n\"As we write at noon,\" he put down, \"Johnstown is again under water, and all about us the tide is rising. Wagons for hours have been passing along the streets carrying people from submerged points to places of safety . . . From seven o'clock on the water rose. People who were glad they 'didn't live downtown' began to wish they didn't live in town at all. On the water crept, and on, up one street and out the other . . . Eighteen inches an hour the Stony Creek rose for a time, and the Conemaugh about as rapidly.\"\n\nOn the street below his window the current, coming across from the Stony Creek, was rushing by at an estimated six miles an hour.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nAcross Main, and three doors down Franklin, the Reverend H. L. Chapman was having a slightly unnerving day.\n\nAfter an early breakfast he had retired to his study to work on his sermon for Sunday. The text he had selected was \"But man dieth, and wasteth away: yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?\" He had barely begun when he was interrupted by the doorbell. Opening the front door, he found his wife's cousin, Mrs. A. D. Brinker, standing on the porch looking terribly frightened.\n\nShe had crossed the park from her home on the other side. She asked Chapman if he had heard about the high water downtown. He said he had not and that he did not think there would be much of a flood.\n\n\"Johnstown is going to be destroyed today,\" she said, and then told him that the reservoir would break and all would be swept away.\n\nChapman was so incredulous he almost laughed in her face, and would have had she not looked so pitifully terror-stricken. It was also not the first time Mrs. Brinker had made just such a forecast.\n\n\"Well, Sister Brinker, you have been fearing this for years,\" Chapman said with patience, \"and it has never yet happened, and I don't think there is much danger.\"\n\nHe invited her to step in and stay with them until after the flood had passed, an invitation she gladly accepted, saying that her husband had insisted on staying home, to \"hold the fort\" as he had put it.\n\nLater, a young student friend named Parker dropped by to see if the Chapmans needed help moving their furniture, but the Reverend told him he expected no trouble, as the new parsonage had a higher foundation than other houses. But the young man stayed on nonetheless.\n\nAbout noon Chapman happened to look out the window long enough to see one of the town's most dignified figures standing in the street in water up to his waist. It was Cyrus Elder, who along with being chief counsel for the Iron Company was now Johnstown's one and only member of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, having acquired the Morrell memberships at the time of the old Quaker's death.\n\nChapman was puzzled by the whole thing and hurried onto the porch to see what he could do. Elder, though a most solid citizen, seems also to have had a sense of humor.\n\n\"Doctor,\" he called, \"have you any fishing tackle?\"\n\nChapman answered that he thought he had.\n\n\"Well,\" said Elder, \"I was in a skiff and it upset and left me here, and I am waiting for a man who has gone after a horse, to take me out, and I might put in my time fishing.\"\n\nWhen the man and horse returned, the hefty Elder, try as he would, was unable to get up on the animal's slippery back. So the rider went off again and returned next with a wagon. This time they had better luck and started off down Main toward Elder's home on Walnut Street but had to turn back and head uptown for Elder's brother's house; all of which was duly noted with amusement from the window of the Tribune by George Swank, who was also Elder's brother-in-law.\n\nElder had arrived back in Johnstown from Chicago just that morning and had been trying for hours to get home to his wife and daughter. From the station platform he had been able to look right across at his house, where, on the front porch, the two women were waving their handkerchiefs at him. They had gestured back and forth about the water and how he might get home, but from then on he had made little progress.\n\nAt midday the Chapmans and their guests sat down to dinner, but Mrs. Brinker was still too unstrung to eat anything. Dinner over, they moved to the study, where they sat quietly chatting beside the gas fire. But the Reverend soon grew impatient with the comings and goings of Lizzie Swing, the Chapmans German servant girl, who kept tramping past the study door on her way from the cellar to the attic with armloads of food.\n\n\"Why does she do that?\" Chapman asked. He was genuinely puzzled by the girl's obvious state of nerves, since she understood almost no English. The Reverend was having trouble maintaining an intelligent sense of domestic calm.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nThe train which returned Cyrus Elder to Johnstown had left Chicago the day before at three in the afternoon. It was one of two sections of the Day Express, which had pulled out of Pittsburgh that morning, on time, at 8:10. The two trains arrived at Johnstown about 10:15, and again on time, but were held there for a half-hour or so. The eastbound track on up the valley had washed out. Not until a local mail train came through were the two sections given orders to follow it to East Conemaugh, running east on the westbound track.\n\nDuring the wait at Johnstown, passengers on board watched in fascination the struggles of the flooded city. They waved back and forth to families hanging out of upstairs windows. Some got out for a few minutes and joined the crowds on the station platform and along the near enbankment to watch the railroad crew that was trying to dislodge the logs and drift from the stone bridge. When the trains began moving again, very slowly, around the blind corner of Prospect Hill and on to the East Conemaugh yards two miles ahead, the passengers could see the ugly yellow-brown surge of the Little Conemaugh to their right, now very near their rain-streaked windows. More and more debris swept by and telegraph poles swayed precariously in the strong wind.\n\nThe run to East Conemaugh took about ten minutes, with the mail train in the lead, followed by the first and second Day Express, in that order. At East Conemaugh all trains were stopped and held for further orders. There was trouble up the line at Lilly. Bear Run had risen more than six feet, burst over its banks, and washed out a quarter of a mile of track. Nothing could move east or west. Two earlier eastbound trains, the Chicago Limited and a freight from Derry, had gotten as far as South Fork, where now they too were being held.\n\nThe first section of the Day Express was made up of seven cars\u2014five coaches, a baggage car, and one Pullman. On board were some 90 passengers plus crew. The second section had three sleepers, one baggage and two mail cars, and perhaps 50 passengers and crew. The mail train had only three cars, one for the mail, plus two coaches. Most of its passengers were members of the Night Off company, who were on their way to Altoona for their next performance.\n\nEast Conemaugh was the main marshaling yard for Johnstown. Eastbound trains picked up their \"helpers\" there, the extra engines for the climb over the mountain. There was a huge sixteen-stall roundhouse, water towers, four main tracks, sidings, sheds, repair shops, coal tipples, dozens of locomotives, rolling stock of every description. So that the trains now detained there in the driving rain were only part of a whole concentration of equipment set along a broad flat where the Little Conemaugh makes a sweeping curve between the hills.\n\nFor the people of the little town set just back from the yards, the morning was turning into a fine show. The river was still within its banks but rising fast. There was every sign that the wooden bridge above the station was about to wash out, and rain or no rain, most of the town had gathered along the riverbank to see it happen.\n\nSometime between noon and one o'clock a telegraph message came into the East Conemaugh dispatcher's tower from the next tower up the valley to the east. The message was directed to the yardmaster at East Conemaugh, J. C. Walkinshaw, and to the head of the entire division, Mr. Robert Pitcairn, at Pittsburgh. No one would later recall at exactly what moment the message arrived, and numerous people who should have seen it later claimed that they never did. Nor was there ever agreement on its precise wording, but the consensus was that the message said something close to this:\n\nSOUTH FORK DAM IS LIABLE TO BREAK: NOTIFY THE PEOPLE OF JOHNSTOWN TO PREPARE FOR THE WORST.\n\nIt was signed simply \"Operator.\"\n\nAt Johnstown the message was received at the telegraph office at the depot only a few minutes later. The freight agent, Frank Deckert, was told it had come in; he glanced at it, but he did not stop to read it. As he said later, he knew that \"it was in regard to the dam; that there was some danger of it breaking.\" But it created no alarm in his mind. He had heard such warnings before. When he passed the word along to the few people who happened to be about the station, their response was the same as his, with only one or two exceptions. Two men who were shown the message by Charles Moore, the assistant ticket agent, read it and laughed out loud.\n\nDeckert made no further effort to spread the warning. He did not move his family from their home just down from the station, nor did he bother to send the message over to the central part of town.\n\n### -2-\n\nNo one on the mountain could remember there ever being a night like it.\n\nJohn Lovett, who was seventy-one and had a sawmill on South Fork Creek a quarter of a mile from the head of Lake Conemaugh, said it was the hardest rain he had ever heard. He could not see it, he said, but he could hear it all right, and the creeks got so vicious they carried off logs that had been on his place for forty years. William Hank and Sam Peblin, who had farms farther up the mountain, at the headwaters of South Fork Creek, said much the same thing. Sylvester Reynolds, another farmer, reported that Otto Run, which feeds into Yellow Run, was running four feet deep, compared to its normal depth of two inches. F. N. George, Justice of the Peace at Lilly, said he had never known a cloudburst like it in fifty years. At Wilmore, H. W. Plotner, a druggist who was nearly seventy, said he could recall no worse storm. Dan Sipe, who owned the flour mill on the Little Conemaugh at Summerhill, Sheriff George Stineman, the coal operator at South Fork, and Mrs. Leap, who kept the general store at Bens Creek, all agreed it was the mightiest downpour and the highest water ever in their memories.\n\nThere were also \"weird and unnatural occurrences\" reported. One family by the name of Heidenfelter later described how they had been suddenly awakened and badly frightened by a \"rumbling, roaring sound\" that seemed to come from some indefinable object not far from their house. It was then followed by a terrific downpour, which, according to Mrs. Heidenfelter, sounded as if a gigantic tank had opened at the bottom and all the water dumped out at once.\n\n\"Indeed I thought the last day had come,\" she later told a newspaper reporter. \"I never heard anything like it in my life. I wanted my husband to get up and see what the matter was, but it was dark and he could have done no good. In the morning, as soon as we could see, the fields were covered with water four or five feet deep. . . . People say the noise we heard was a waterspout, but I've never seen one and don't know how they act.\"\n\nApparently the storm did tear big holes in the ground near the Heidenfelter farm, and other families close by the lake reported hearing sounds much like thunder but which they were certain were not thunder.\n\nIn any case it was a wild night on the mountain, and when morning came virtually every farm in the area had swamped cellars and pastures. Freshly plowed fields were sliced through with gullies that carried water as much as three feet deep. Acres of winter wheat and corn planted a few weeks earlier had been washed away. Every backwoods road had turned into a creek; every little mountain spring, run, creek, and stream was on a rampage. The earth could not absorb any more water.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nIt was about six thirty that morning when young John Parke awoke in his high-ceilinged room upstairs at the clubhouse on the shore of Lake Conemaugh. He had awakened once before, about an hour earlier, and had heard the rain hammering against the big frame building, but thinking nothing of it, had dropped off to sleep again. Now, outside his window, there was little to be seen but a heavy, white mist that had closed down over the trees and water.\n\nParke dressed quickly, went downstairs, crossed through the main living room, out the porch door into the cold morning, where, for the first time, he heard what he would later describe as a \"terrible roaring as of a cataract\" coming from the head of the lake to the south. He also noticed that during the night the lake had risen what looked to be perhaps two feet. Yesterday the water had been at its usual level, which, he reckoned, was about four to six feet below the crest of the dam. Now, it might be no more than two or three feet from the crest. What he could not tell was how much water was still coming in, and that he knew would be the crucial factor for the next several hours. But the sound from the head of the lake was far from encouraging.\n\nHe went inside again, had breakfast, then, along with a young workman who had been helping on the sewer project, he got hold of a rowboat and started off to have a look at the incoming creeks.\n\n\"I found that the upper one-quarter of the lake was thickly covered with debris, logs, slabs from sawmill, plank, etc.,\" he wrote afterward, \"but this matter was scarcely moving on the lake, and what movement there was, carried it into an arm or eddy in the lake, caused by the force of the two streams flowing in and forming a stream for a long distance out into the lake.\"\n\nAs he and his companion neared the far end, he was astonished to discover that they were rowing over the top of a four-strand barbed-wire fence which stood well back from the normal shore line. Then, rowing against the strong current, they proceeded to cover another hundred yards or more across what was normally a cow pasture. They passed by the place where Muddy Run emptied into the lake and went on to South Fork Creek, which Parke described as \"a perfect torrent, sweeping through the woods in the most direct course, scarcely following its natural bed, and stripping branches and leaves from the trees five and six feet from the ground.\"\n\nThe two of them pulled their boat onto what seemed the driest spot in sight and started up along the creek by foot. For half a mile the woods boiled with water. The trees dripped water, their drenched trunks black against the mist. The very air itself seemed better than half water.\n\nWhen they returned for their boat, they found that the lake had come up enough in that short time to set it slightly adrift. From there they struck out straight for the clubhouse. From what he had seen, Parke knew that the situation at the dam must be growing very serious and that an appreciable letup in the volume of water pouring into the lake was most unlikely.\n\nAs near as he could tell, the lake was rising about an inch every ten minutes. If this were so, it would be only a matter of hours until the water started over the top of the dam, unless something could be done to release more water than the spillway was handling.\n\nAt the clubhouse Parke was told that he was needed at the dam immediately. He went to the stable for his horse and within minutes was galloping off through the cold rain.\n\nThere were close to fifty people at the dam when he came riding out of the woods. There was a clump of bystanders, South Fork men and boys mostly, under the trees over at the far side, next to the spillway. Along the road that crossed over the dam itself, a dozen or so of the Italian sewer diggers were working with picks and shovels, trying, without much success, to throw up a small ridge of earth to heighten the dam. Bill Showers, Colonel Unger's hired man, was also making little progress with a horse and plow. Despite all the rain, the road was so hard packed that thus far they had managed to make only a slight strip of loose earth across the center of the dam hardly more than a foot high.\n\nAt the center of the dam the water level was only two feet or so from the top.\n\nAt the west end another ten or twelve men were trying to cut a new spillway through the tough shale of the hillside but were able to dig down no more than about knee-deep, and the width of their trench was only two feet or so.\n\nAlso among the onlookers were several of the clubmen who had come up from Pittsburgh for the Memorial Day weekend. But the man who was directing things, and deciding what ought to be done as the water advanced steadily toward the crest, was Colonel Elias J. Unger, who had retired from business in Pittsburgh the year before and had only recently been named the club's president and over-all manager. He was living at the lake the year around now, in a modest farmhouse just beyond the spillway.\n\nThe Colonel had started life on another farm in Dauphin County, in the eastern part of the state. His father was a Pennsylvania German, as was his mother, who came from the big and well-known Eisenhower family. At twenty he got a job on the railroad and managed to work himself up from brakeman to conductor to superintendent of the Pennsylvania's hotels, from Pittsburgh to Jersey City, including the one at Cresson, where he was manager for a time and so got to know Carnegie and the others.\n\nAbout the time the South Fork club was being organized, he had gone into the hotel business on his own in Pittsburgh and made even more of a name for himself. By 1888 he was well enough situated to buy the place on Lake Conemaugh and settle down to a quiet retirement in a glorious setting where there was also the added interest of a not very taxing job to keep him occupied, plus, in the summer months at least, the chance to keep up with his Pittsburgh friendships.\n\nUnger had come a long way from Dauphin County. But even so, socially and financially, he was a noticeable cut below the other members of the South Fork fishing and hunting organization. His experience in hotel management, it would appear, had something to do with his position in the club.\n\nThe Colonel had returned home only the night before, after visiting friends in Harrisburg. When he got out of bed that morning at six, it looked to him, he later said, as though the whole valley below was under water, and he was baffled as to what it all meant. He put on his gum coat and boots and walked down the hill in front of the house, crossed the wooden bridge over the spillway and walked out onto the dam, where he began taking measurements of the rising water.\n\nAbout eight thirty Unger's caretaker over at the club grounds, a man by the name of Boyer, came by in a spring wagon with D. W. C. Bidwell, who was on his way to South Fork intending to catch the 9:15 train to Pittsburgh. Bidwell, who evidently had had enough of the soaking weekend at the lake, stopped to ask Unger how things were going.\n\n\"Serious,\" answered Unger, who later that morning was heard to say that if the dam survived the day, he would see that major changes were made to insure that this sort of thing never happened again.\n\nWhen Boyer got back from South Fork, which was sometime near ten, Unger sent him off to bring the Italian work crew down to the dam. He had decided to try digging another spillway at the western end, where he thought the hillside would be solid enough to keep the water from cutting through it too rapidly. There was brief disagreement over the idea, with some of the men protesting that the water would rip through any new wasteway so fast that the dam would quickly fail.\n\n\"It won't matter much,\" Unger said, \"it will be ruined anyhow if I can't get rid of this water.\"\n\nWhen it became clear that even the shallowest sort of ditch could barely be cut through the rocky hillside, Unger then set several of his men to work trying to clear away the debris which by now was clogging the iron fish screens in the main spillway and seriously reducing its capacity.\n\nAmong the bystanders taking all this in was a small fourteen-year-old boy with the big name of U. Ed Schwartzentruver, who, with some of his friends, had been there all morning in the rain watching the excitement. Seventy-six years later, sitting on his porch on Grant Street in South Fork, not quite ninety and nearly blind, he would talk about what he had seen that morning as though it had happened the day before.\n\n\"When this high water come down, there was all kinds of debris, stumps, pieces of logs, and underbrush and it started to jam up those screens under the bridge. The bridge was well constructed of heavy timber. There was a man named Bucannon up there, John Bucannon, who lived in South Fork. Well he kept telling Colonel Unger to tear out that bridge and pull out that big iron screen.\n\n\"But Colonel Unger wouldn't do it. And then when he said he would do it, it was too late. The screens wouldn't budge, they were so jammed in by all that debris.\"\n\nWhen John Parke came up onto the dam on horseback, he did what he could to exhort Unger's men to dig harder and faster, riding back and forth along the breast, shouting orders and moving men from one place to another when he thought it would do some good. But by eleven o'clock it was apparent to everyone that the lake was still advancing as fast as ever before. In fact, by eleven, the water was about level with the top of the dam and had already started to eat into what little had been thrown up by the plow and shovels. On the outer face, near the base of the dam, it looked as though several serious leaks had developed.\n\nAt this point, Colonel Unger decided that perhaps something ought to be done to warn the people in the valley below. The only way was to send a man down. There was a telephone line from the clubhouse to South Fork, but it was used only during the summer season and had not as yet been put in working order.\n\nWith all the rain there had been, the road to South Fork was in very bad shape, but John Parke made the ride in about ten minutes. Parke's relative youth, and the fact that he was not well known in the area, may account for the marginal success of his mission.\n\nFurthermore, the first people to come from the dam to South Fork that morning, Boyer and Bidwell, had already told everyone that there was no danger of the water running over the top. So when Parke came splashing up Railroad Street with his warning, the news was both unexpected and perhaps seemed somewhat questionable. According to testimony made later by Bidwell, Parke stopped in front of George Stineman's supply store, which was across the street from the depot, and where a small crowd had gathered.\n\n\"I saw him come down there,\" Bidwell said, \"and make a statement to the people standing about that the water was then running over the top of the dam, and there was very great danger of it giving way.\" Parke also told two men to go to the railroad's telegraph tower next to the depot and tell the operator to alert Johnstown. But soon after they left, Bidwell, according to one witness, began telling everyone that there was really nothing to get excited about.\n\nThe operator at South Fork that Friday morning was Miss Emma Ehrenfeld. She had come on duty at seven o'clock. It was about noon, she would later estimate, that a man came up into the tower \"very much excited.\"\n\n\"Notify Johnstown right away about the dam,\" he said. \"It's raising very fast and there's danger of the reservoir breaking.\"\n\n\"Who told you all this?\" she asked.\n\n\"There's a man came from the lake,\" he said.\n\nEmma was not quite sure how much to believe of his story. She had seen the man around town and thought his name was Wertzengreist, though she was uncertain about that too. But she said later, \"He is a man that people generally don't have much confidence in, and for that reason, I scarcely knew what to do under the circumstances.\"\n\nShe was also hampered by the fact that her lines west were open only as far as the next tower, four miles down the river at Mineral Point. Beyond Mineral Point there seemed to be a break somewhere and so she had no direct contact with Johnstown.\n\nThe operator at Mineral Point, W. H. Pickerell, was an old hand along the Little Conemaugh, having been there at that same tower for some fifteen years. Emma decided to \"talk\" it over with him on the one good wire she had. She tapped out her problem and waited for an answer. Pickerell told her that the break to the west was caused by the poles falling into the river, and that though he had no way of getting Johnstown, he thought \"it was a thing that there oughtn't to be any risks taken on.\" He said he would take the message and send it on to East Conemaugh by foot if someone should happen along the tracks below his tower.\n\nSo the two of them worked out a message addressed to the yardmaster at Conemaugh and to Robert Pitcairn in Pittsburgh.\n\n\"I wrote the message up,\" Pickerell declared weeks after, \"and repeated it to her and asked her if that would do, and she said that was splendid\u2014to send it that way. I doubled the message and waited and waited.\"\n\nAfter a while a trackman came by. He had been sent from East Conemaugh to flag a landslide at Buttermilk Falls, to the west of Pickerell's tower. Pickerell gave him the folded message and sent him on his way back down the tracks. At Buttermilk Falls, the man, whose name was William Reichard, turned the message over to his boss, the foreman of the division, L. L. Rusher, who set out for East Conemaugh after telling Reichard to go on back up to Mineral Point, in case there should be any more messages.\n\nAs it turned out, Rusher had only to go as far as what was known as \"AO\" tower, which was about a mile and half from Mineral Point and better than a mile upriver from East Conemaugh. From \"AO\" tower west the lines were still clear. Rusher gave the message to operator R. W. Shade, who sent it on immediately. And it was his message which was received by J. C. Walkinshaw at East Conemaugh and by agent Deckert in Johnstown sometime between noon and one o'clock.\n\nIn Pittsburgh, operator Charles Culp, at the Union depot later said he was the one who had received the message there and that he took it right over \"and laid it on Mr. Pitcairn's table in front of him.\" Within an hour Robert Pitcairn, who had a special interest in the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, as well as the Pennsylvania Railroad, was sitting in his private railroad car on his way to Johnstown.\n\nBut the telegram drafted by operator Pickerell and Emma Ehrenfeld was only the first of three warnings sent down the valley by way of the Pennsylvania's telegraph system.\n\nAbout twelve thirty, or sometime very shortly after John Parke reined up in front of Stineman's store, another rider was sent from South Fork to check the condition of the dam. His name was Dan Siebert. He worked for J. P. Wilson, who was superintendent of the Argyle Coal Company in South Fork and an old friend of Robert Pitcairn's. Wilson had been asked by Pitcairn some three years earlier to notify him at once if ever he saw any signs of danger at the dam.\n\nSiebert borrowed Wilson's horse and was up and back from the dam inside of twenty-five minutes. He had stayed only long enough to see that near the center of the dam a glassy sheet of water, fifty to sixty feet wide, had started over the top. But Siebert did not seem especially concerned over what he had seen. He was, in fact, according to one witness, \"perfectly cool about it.\"\n\nWilson, however, on hearing Siebert's report, turned to C. P. Dougherty, the Pennsylvania's ticket agent in South Fork, and asked him if he did not think that Mr. Pitcairn should be notified. When Dougherty hesitated, saying there was trouble with the wires downriver, Wilson took it to mean that Dougherty was reluctant to assume the responsibility of such a message and told him to sign his, Wilson's, name.\n\nWhereupon Dougherty went over to the tower, taking along another operator, Elmer Paul, who was more experienced than Miss Ehrenfeld and who Dougherty thought might have better luck getting a circuit. Paul tried the wire for a few minutes but without success.\n\nSo again a message was sent as far as Mineral Point, where it was received at 1:52 by operator Pickerell, who gave it to William Reichard, who walked it down the tracks to \"AO\" tower. From there it was put on the wire to East Conemaugh, Johnstown, and Pittsburgh. The message read:\n\nSOUTH FORK, MAY 31, 1889\n\nR.P. O.D. VIA MP & AO\n\nTHE WATER IS RUNNING OVER THE BREAST OF LAKE DAM, IN CENTER AND WEST SIDE AND IS BECOMING DANGEROUS.\n\nC. P. DOUGHERTY\n\nIt was no more than thirty minutes later that J. P. Wilson came up to the tower himself to have Emma Ehrenfeld send still another warning. The rain was beating down terribly hard by then, and outside they could see the water of the Little Conemaugh and South Fork Creek raging across the flats just below the station. Over near Lake Street, South Fork Creek had flooded the first floors of several houses and the aspens along the banks were whipping about wildly in the wind.\n\nWilson had just heard that a young South Fork boy named John Baker had ridden down from the lake and said that the water had now cut a notch in the center of the dam. Without taking time to write anything down, Wilson dictated a message to Pitcairn which Emma Ehrenfeld put right on the wire.\n\nSOUTH FORK, MAY 31, 1889\n\nR.P.\n\nOD\n\nTHE DAM IS BECOMING DANGEROUS AND MAY POSSIBLY GO.\n\nJ. P. WILSON\n\nWilson waited in the tower long enough to be sure the message had gotten at least as far as Mineral Point; then he warned Miss Ehrenfeld to be on the lookout up South Fork Creek and went out the door\n\nThe time was 2:25. By 2:33 the message had reached East Conemaugh. For some unknown reason, Pickerell this time had been able to get a circuit. Apparently, a wire that had fallen into the river lifted out somehow, and as Pickerell said, \"All at once the wire came all right.\"\n\nThe message was through to East Conemaugh in a matter of minutes, and on to Johnstown and Pittsburgh. Agent Deckert in Johnstown would later state that he had received this particular message sometime near 2:45. He also concluded upon reading it that this time he had best telephone its contents across the way to Hettie Ogle, who ran the central telephone switchboard and Western Union office, just across the river at the corner of Washington and Walnut.\n\nMrs. Hettie Ogle was a Civil War widow who had been with Western Union for some twenty-eight years. At one o'clock the rising water had forced her to move, with her daughter, Minnie, to the second floor of the two-story frame building. Sometime near three she notified her Pittsburgh office of the condition of the dam as reported by Deckert and said that that would be her last message, meaning that the rising water was about to ground her wires. Then she put through a call to the Tribune, where editor Swank was still keeping up his running account of the day's events.\n\n\"At three o'clock,\" he wrote, \"the town sat down with its hands in its pockets to make the best of a very dreary situation. All that had got out of reach of the flood that could, and there was nothing to do but wait; and what impatient waiting it was anyone who has ever been penned in by a flood and has watched the water rising, and night coming on, can imagine. . . .\"\n\nHe described how the Stony Creek carried a live cow down from some point above Moxham and how she struck against a pier of the dislodged Poplar Street Bridge, where she managed to get a foothold for a while but finally, making a misstep, fell into the current and was carried off.\n\n\"At 3:15 the Central Telephone office called the Tribune up to say it had been informed by Agent Deckert, of the Pennsylvania Railroad freight station, that the South Fork Reservoir was getting worse all the time and that the danger of its breaking was increasing momentarily. It is idle to speculate what would be the result if this tremendous body of water\u2014three miles long, a mile wide in places, and sixty feet deep at the breast at its normal stage\u2014should be thrown into the already submerged Valley of the Conemaugh.\"\n\nBut by 3:15 Lake Conemaugh was already on its way to Johnstown.\n\n### -3-\n\nWhen John Parke had arrived back at the dam from his dash to South Fork, he was confident that his warning had been sent on down the valley. Along the way from South Fork he had passed two men struggling through the mud with a sewing machine, and one of them shouted to him, \"We got the sewing machine out, if nothing else,\" which Parke took to be a very good sign. At the dam he found the water had already started sliding over the top, at the center, right above where the old culvert had been. It had taken no time for the water to wash across the little earth ridge that had been thrown up. Now, as he rode his horse out along the breast, the water crossing over the road there was a good six inches deep and getting stronger every minute. Within minutes the sheet of water was a hundred yards wide. But it was all concentrated at the center, clearly illustrating, Parke noted, that the dam dished a little.\n\nIt was now shortly after noon. At the western end the emergency spillway was running about twenty-five feet wide, but only slightly deeper than before. At the main spillway, where the water was roaring through six feet deep or more, the men had started to tear up the floor boards of the bridge and were attempting to remove a V-shaped floating drift made of logs with nails sticking out of them, which had been set out in the water twenty feet or so before the spillway to deter the fish even from venturing toward the screens.\n\nThe men were afraid to go out on the dam now, and so Parke rode across the breast alone, studying the effects of the overflowing water on the face of the dam. He saw that little gullies had already been cut between the riprap, but the damage was not as bad as he thought it would be.\n\nFor a brief moment he gave serious thought to the possibility of cutting another spillway through the dam proper, where there would be no problem digging deep and where the water would do quite a lot of the digging for them. It would have meant the end of the dam, of course; the water, he knew, would bore through any such cut, ripping the dam in two in no time. But by making such a cut near one of the ends, where the pressure was far less than at the center, the water, as fast as it might escape, would still go out a far sight slower than if the whole dam gave way all at once at the middle. It would have meant the certain destruction of the dam, but also far less damage below, he figured.\n\nIt would have been a terribly bold decision, and one which Parke alone would have been in no position to make. It would also be, he concluded, a foolhardy decision. Frightful damage would be caused for certain, and they would be responsible; furthermore, there would then be no way to prove that the dam had been about to break and that they had been left with no other choice. Indeed, Parke decided, there was no certainty at all that the dam was going to break. At which point he hurried to the clubhouse for his dinner.\n\nWhen he returned to the dam, Parke found things had taken a decided turn for the worse.\n\nSeveral big rocks on the outer face had washed away, and the water pouring across the top had cut a hole into the face about ten feet wide and four feet deep. As the water kept pounding down into this hole, he could see it slicing away at the face, a little more every minute, so that the hole began to take the form of a huge step.\n\nThere was absolutely nothing anyone could do now but watch and wait and hope. Parke, Unger, all of them, just stood there looking at the water and the valley stretching away below.\n\nThe rain-drenched crowd gathered on both hillsides had grown considerably since early morning. The news of trouble had spread fast and wide.\n\nSome men had more or less smelled trouble hours before. George Gramling, who had a sawmill on Sandy Run, started off for the dam about eight in the morning, along with Jacob Baumgardner and Sam Helman. The Gramling mill was operated by a small dam which had broken about seven. If a small dam washed out that early, the men reasoned, what might a big dam do later on?\n\nBut mostly people were just curious. The Reverend G. W. Brown, pastor of the South Fork United Brethren Church, for example, like nearly everyone else in the neighborhood, had heard rumors of trouble all day and decided finally to go up to see for himself. When he arrived at the dam it was about ten minutes to three. There was no one actually out on the dam then, just at the ends, and the water was pouring over the breast.\n\nMinutes later he saw the first break. He said it was \"about large enough to admit the passage of a train of cars.\"\n\nJohn Parke said that the break came after the huge \"step\" had been gouged back into the face so near to the water that the pressure caved in the wall.\n\nEd Schwartzentruver called the first break \"a big notch.\"\n\n\"It run over a short spell,\" he said, \"and then about half of the roadway just fell down over the dam.\n\n\"And then it just cut through like a knife.\"\n\nColonel Unger said the water worked its way down \"little by little, until it got a headway, and when it got cut through, it just went like a flash.\"\n\nUnger's man Boyer said, \"It run over the top until it cut a channel, and then it ran out as fast as it could get out. It went out very fast, but it didn't burst out.\"\n\nJohn Parke said, \"It is an erroneous opinion that the dam burst. It simply moved away.\"\n\nAccording to Ed Schwartzentruver, \"The whole dam seemed to push out all at once. No, not a break, just one big push.\"\n\nThe time was ten after three.\n\n## IV\n\n## Rush of the torrent\n\n### -1-\n\nThere were men on the hillsides near the dam who had seen what the force of water could accomplish in mining operations, how a narrow sluice could scour and dig with the strength of a hundred men. Actually anyone who had lived in the area long enough to have seen even the spindliest of the local creeks in April had a fair idea of hydraulics at work. But no one who was on hand that afternoon was prepared for what happened when Lake Conemaugh started for South Fork.\n\n\"Oh, it seemed to me as if all the destructive elements of the Creator had been turned loose at once in that awful current of water,\" Colonel Unger said.\n\nWhen the dam let go, the lake seemed to leap into the valley like a living thing, \"roaring like a mighty battle,\" one eyewitness would say. The water struck the valley treetop high and rushed out through the breach in the dam so fast that, as John Parke noted, \"there was a depression of at least ten feet in the surface of the water flowing out, on a line with the inner face of the breast and sloping back to the level of the lake about 150 feet from the breast.\"\n\nParke estimated that it took forty-five minutes for the entire lake to empty, but others said it took less, more in the neighborhood of thirty-six or thirty-seven minutes. In any case, later studies by civil engineers indicated that the water charged into the valley at a velocity and depth comparable to that of the Niagara River as it reaches Niagara Falls. Or to put it another way, the bursting of the South Fork dam was about like turning Niagara Falls into the valley for thirty-six minutes.\n\nA short distance below the dam stood a farmhouse belonging to George Fisher. Fisher, who had been warned that the dam was about to go and had managed to escape from the house with his family only minutes before, saw everything he owned vanish in an instant.\n\nHuge trees were snapped off or uprooted one after another and went plunging off in the torrent. When the flood had passed and the hollow was still again, the hill opposite the dam had been scraped bare for fifty feet up. Every bush, vine, every tree, every blade of grass, had been torn out. All that remained was bare rock and mud.\n\nThe water advanced like a tremendous wall. Giant chunks of the dam, fence posts, logs, boulders, whole trees, and the wreckage of the Fisher place were swept before it, driven along like an ugly grinder that kept building higher and higher.\n\nAt Lamb's Bridge, the little bridge itself as well as George Lamb's home were destroyed as swiftly as everything else. Lamb had been afraid of the dam but had not fled to higher ground until he heard the roar of the flood bearing down on him. He made a frantic effort to save two pigs but gave it up and got to the hillside with his family in time to see his house climb the face of the water, which, because of the narrowness of the valley at that point, was about sixty feet high. He watched the house roll and toss momentarily; then it was flung against the near hill and smashed to splinters.\n\nFrom where they were the men at the dam could see all this happening as the water raged through the immense gash below them. But just beyond Lamb's Bridge the valley turns sharply to the right and disappears. So now they could only stand there, the rain beating down, and imagine, as much as that was possible, the things taking place beyond that turn.\n\nThe road to South Fork had disappeared, and with most of the dam gone, there was no way back to the clubhouse except the long way, clear around the lake, through flooded woods and fields where the mud would be impossible. So they stayed on, watching the level of the lake sink rapidly down and down, until there was nothing to see but hundreds of acres of dark ooze cut through by a violent yellow stream.\n\nColonel Unger lasted only a short time after the dam failed. He collapsed and had to be carried to his house and put to bed. His work crew, which had been hanging back nearby, waiting for his next orders, then climbed down to where the lake had been and with blankets and baskets and cold bare hands began scooping up the fish that were flopping about in the muck.\n\n### -2-\n\nEmma Ehrenfeld was sitting with her back to the window in the telegraph tower just down from the South Fork depot. She was talking to H. M. Bennett, engineer of the 1165 freight from Derry, and S. W. Keltz, the conductor. The men had left Derry, halfway to Pittsburgh on the main line, the evening before and had been up all night, delayed first at East Conemaugh until five that morning, then held at South Fork since eight.\n\nTired, cold, rain-soaked trainmen had been coming in and out of the tower most of the day, climbing the stairs to ask about news from up the line or just warming themselves by the coal stove on the first floor.\n\nMiss Ehrenfeld had held the Chicago Limited west of the bridge, on the other side of the Little Conemaugh, according to the orders she had received that morning; but with all the talk going around about trouble at the dam, the engineer had grown uneasy about his train standing over there, right where the flood might come. There had been a number of opinions on what to do, and then, after noon, the engineer got up and said he was going to bring the Limited across, orders or no orders.\n\nAfter that there had been more speculating about the bridge. The conductor on the Limited had noticed cracks in one of the piers. The division foreman had been sent for, and when he came down from his house up the tracks and said the piers had looked that way for some time, they cut the Limited's helper loose and ran it across first, very slowly, just to be sure. The Limited followed after and pulled up past the tower and the depot, a half mile or so. By the time that was done with, it was shortly before three.\n\nVery soon after, Emma Ehrenfeld went downstairs to see about the stove. The men had been firing it up so that her little room upstairs was growing uncomfortably warm. The Limited's engineer had come in again and was sitting there having a smoke, trying to dry off some. She passed the time with him for a few minutes, banged shut the door, and went back up the stairs to her desk.\n\nFrom where he was sitting beside her, H. M. Bennett could see the northeastern corner of town neatly framed by the rain-spattered window. In the immediate foreground were the Pennsylvania tracks; just beyond them was Railroad Street, with Stineman's store to the left and the big Stineman house and Pringle's drugstore on either side of it. To the right was the turn where Railroad became Lake Street and headed uptown and out of sight, toward the road to the dam. And way over to the right, on the other side of the coal tipple and the planing mill, he could see South Fork Creek, flooding across the lowlands, through the trees, and reaching among the houses nearest its banks.\n\nSuddenly Bennett noticed distant figures racing toward the hill. He jumped up and rushed to the window.\n\n\"Look at the people running!\" he said. \"I wonder what's wrong?\"\n\nThe other two went immediately to the window and noticed that several people going by in the street below seemed to be shouting something.\n\nAs Miss Ehrenfeld later recalled, Bennett said something about the reservoir and that they ought to get out. Then they saw it coming, spread across the full width of the valley.\n\nSituated as they were, only a few hundred feet from where the creek emptied into the Little Conemaugh, they were in about as good a place as any to see up the valley; but even so, they could not see very far because the abrupt hillside to which the town clung blocked off most of their view. When the water came into sight, it looked very close and enormous.\n\n\"It just seemed like a mountain coming,\" Emma Ehrenfeld said.\n\nConductor Keltz described it as more like a large hill rolling over and over. He judged it was about a hundred feet high.\n\nThe two men turned and dashed down out of the tower. Miss Ehrenfeld was right behind them (\"without waiting to get my hat or anything\"). She raced down the tracks, crossed over to the stairs that led to the coal tipple, ran to the top, and from there followed the crowd running toward the back alleys that led to higher ground.\n\nBennett and Keltz had started for the hill with her, but remembering the fireman and brakeman, who were asleep in the engine of their train on a siding on the other side of the river, they turned and ran for the bridge.\n\nThey made it to the engine, cut it loose, and with the little steam they had, came rolling out of the siding and back across the bridge, heading directly toward the oncoming flood with what looked like no better than an even chance of making safe ground only a few hundred yards away where the tracks swung hard to the left past the station.\n\nContrary to Keltz's estimate, the wall of water closing down on them was probably no more than forty feet high. It was moving straight for the bridge at a rate of perhaps ten to fifteen miles an hour and was driving before it a mass of debris that now included acres of trees, two or three small bridges, numerous mangled houses, dead animals, and rubbish beyond description.\n\nAbout 200 yards from the bridge the water claimed its first human life. Michael Mann, an English coal miner and self-styled preacher who was known in South Fork as \"The Reverend,\" had ignored every warning to leave the shanty he lived in on the banks of South Fork Creek. His body was found a week later, a mile and a half downstream. It was half-buried in mud, stripped of all clothing, and so badly decomposed that it could not be moved. As a result the last remains of the man who would be remembered in the valley as \"The First Victim\" were put into a hole nearby, covered over, and left unmarked.\n\nThe flood crushed right through the planing mill, wrenched the bridge from its piers, bent it as though it had been built with an elbow in the center, and then plowed head on into the mountain on the north side of the Little Conemaugh.\n\nEngineer Bennett's locomotive meanwhile had escaped just about untouched. It had gotten almost to the station when another escaping freight pulled out of a coal siding and blocked the way. The next thing Bennett knew, a huge tree, evidently an advance fragment of the debris, smashed into his locomotive and pitched it halfway off the track. With the water almost on top of them, Bennett, Keltz, and the two others (they were both very much awake by now) jumped to the ground and scrambled onto the other train just as it started pulling away. Seconds later the full brunt of the flood roared past behind them.\n\nBut when it was all over remarkably little damage had been done in South Fork. Stacked on the hillside as it was, the town was almost entirely out of reach of the onslaught. Along with the bridge and the planing mill, some twenty other buildings and houses were destroyed. The bridge, which had been thirty-five feet above the normal water level, was dumped 200 yards up the Little Conemaugh, carried there by the violent backwash created when the water hit the mountainside. There were a few pieces of machinery to be found where the planing mill had been, but that was about all. There was a stone foundation marking where one store had been. A grocery and barbershop went sailing off. J. P. Wilson's stable containing two mules, a horse, and a cow landed behind the depot with the animals unhurt.\n\nStation agent Dougherty's house was tossed into a gully, a total wreck. The depot itself had bobbed up several feet and swirled out over the tracks a ways. Then when the water rushed off downstream, it drifted back again and settled down almost precisely where it had been before, secured by a tangle of telegraph wires and only a little out of plumb.\n\nThe coal tipple was destroyed and so was the telegraph tower. And that was about the size of it, except that there had been three other deaths.\n\nA young man named Howard Shafer had been helping clear the jam of rubbish that had collected under a small bridge on South Fork Creek. When the water came he was unable to climb the steep bank fast enough.\n\nThe other two lost were Thomas Kehoe and Thomas Henderson, another fireman and a brakeman on Bennett's 1165 Derry freight. They had been asleep in the caboose when Bennett and Keltz had cut the engine loose to make their dash over the bridge. The caboose along with four other freight cars was carried away.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nPast South Fork the water raged along the valley of the Little Conemaugh, between sharp, wooded bluffs that sent the riverbed swerving back and forth on its way west. A straight line from South Fork to Johnstown would be nine miles, but by the river route the distance was about four miles farther.\n\nFor the first mile or so beyond South Fork the valley runs on a comparatively even line and is nearly 1,000 feet deep. There were no houses, only the railroad, which skirted along the northern banks of the river about forty feet above the normal water level.\n\nThe flood ripped the railroad to shreds, tore out ties, twisted steel rails into incredible shapes, and swallowed up whatever equipment happened to be standing along the way.\n\nA mile down from South Fork the valley narrows abruptly. There the rough hillsides squeezed the great mass of water so that its front wall grew to perhaps seventy to seventy-five feet high. Then, a half mile farther still, the river turns sharply south, traveling nearly two miles out of its way to form an oxbow which is only a matter of yards across. It was here, at the end of the oxbow, that the water smashed into its first major obstacle, a tremendous stone viaduct which had been built more than fifty years earlier to take the old Portage Railroad across the Little Conemaugh and which was still used for the main line of the Pennsylvania.\n\nThe viaduct was one of the landmarks of the country. It stood seventy-five feet high and bridged the river gap with one single eighty-foot arch. Even the biggest locomotives looked tiny by contrast as they chugged across it on their way up the mountain. Faced with a tawny-colored local sandstone, it was, as one engineer said, \"a substantial and imposing piece of masonry,\" which had been built by \"an honest Scotch stonemason\" named John Durno from a design worked out by the same Sylvester Welsh who had picked the site for the reservoir.\n\nThe bridge had been built to save running the railroad clear around the oxbow. A cut had been made across the oxbow, a distance of less than a hundred feet, and the tracks had been run through it to the bridge. At the eastern end of the cut, where the river bends off to the south, the tracks were about twenty feet above the normal water level. But at the western end, where the tracks started over the bridge, they were seventy feet above the river. Thus the river's big two-mile loop to the south accomplished a drop of some fifty feet in elevation, which could have been achieved in less than a hundred feet, if the water were to take the path of the railroad cut.\n\nWhen the flood hit this dividing point, part of the giant wave rushed through the cut at a depth of about twenty feet and plunged down over the top of the viaduct and into the deep river gully below, sweeping with it tons of debris which piled on top of the bridge or wedged between its huge arch.\n\nMeanwhile, the rest of the water, and by far the greater proportion of it, crashed along the longer and more tortuous course of the river bed, heaped up to a height of perhaps seventy feet by the narrow channel and gathering before it the shredded refuse of two miles' worth of heavy timber, rock, and mud. Perhaps six or seven minutes passed before it swung around the last big bend before the bridge. When it struck, it was almost as high as the bridge itself.\n\nThe bridge held momentarily. There was an awful booming crunch as debris piled against stone and virtually sealed off the already clogged arch, and the water surged back and forth, seething with yellow foam, mounting up and up until it was nearly eighty feet high. And then it started spurting over the top of the bridge, gushing between the boulders and mangled railroad cars, the broken planks, ties, and tree stumps that had been dumped there.\n\nNow, for a brief instant (no one knows exactly how long it lasted), Lake Conemaugh formed again some five and a half miles downstream from its original resting place. It gathered itself together, held now by another dam, which however temporary was nonetheless as high as the first one; and when this second dam let go, it did so even more suddenly and with greater violence than the first one. The bridge collapsed all at once, and the water exploded into the valley with its maximum power now concentrated again by the momentary delay.\n\nA mile or so beyond the bridge was the white frame village of Mineral Point, consisting of some thirty houses set in a row along a single street, Front Street, which ran parallel with the river on the north side of the river. It was a pretty little place, quiet, clean, tucked at the foot of the mountainside.\n\nThe river there was quite shallow and filled with rocks. The water was quick and bright, and its steady rushing among the rocks was the first sound people heard when they woke up in the morning and the last they heard as they dropped off to sleep at night. Except for the railroad, which ran along the opposite side of the river well above the roof line of the houses, Mineral Point looked as though it might have been a thousand miles from civilization. The air smelled of the river and of sweet, fresh-cut timber at the sawmill and furniture factory, the town's sole supporting industry, which stood at the far end of Front Street.\n\nThe people who lived in Mineral Point had names like Reighard, Page, Sensebaugh, Gromley, Byers, and Burkhart, and there were perhaps 200 of them, if you counted some of the outlying families that picked up their mail there. The houses all faced the river and had deep lots, running back to where the woods started at the base of the hill. Fruit trees and truck gardens grew wonderfully in the moist soil put down by the river over long geologic ages.\n\nNothing much out of the ordinary had ever happened in Mineral Point. There had been a murder there once. A woman who was new to town and lived off to herself was killed by another stranger, a miner from over in the hard-coal country named Mickey Moore. The accepted story was that he was one of the Molly Maguires and that was the reason behind the killing. He had to carry out some dark oath. But that had been several years back. Mickey Moore had disappeared and life had gone on about as it always had, except that no child liked to stay out in the woods very long after dark. \"Mickey Moore will get you,\" they said to each other, \"sure as anything.\"\n\nBeyond the last house, past the sawmill and around another bend or two in the river, and up on the opposite bank beside the railroad, was Mineral Point tower.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\n\"I was sitting in the tower, and all at once, I heard a roar,\" W. H. Pickerell testified later. \"I looked up the track, and I seen the trees and water coming. I jumped up and throwed the window up, and climbed out on a tin roof around our office and walked around on it, and I saw the driftwood coming around the curve, and the channel filling up and running over the bank, and I heard voices; I could hear somebody hollowing, but I couldn't see them, and I walked around until the drift came down, and looked out, and perhaps one third of the distance in the river, I saw a man standing on a house roof. He looked over and seen me and recognized me.\n\n\"He says, 'Mineral Point is all swept away, and the people swept away, and my whole family is gone.' I says, 'Is that so?' and I says, 'Do you know anything of my family?', and he says, 'No, I don't; I think they were all drowned.'\n\n\"Christ Montgomery was his name, and I says, 'Cheer up, Christ, don't give up; as long as you're on top, there's hope!'\n\n\"I didn't more than have the words out of my mouth until the drift he was riding made a straight shoot for the shore, and struck one hundred or one hundred and fifty yards west of my office where the river made a short turn, and went all to pieces; shingles flew right up in the air.\n\n\"He got out all right. He grabbed into the bushes just about the time it struck and I didn't see anything of him for a breath, and then he crawled up out of the bushes. After I cheered him up, and told him not to give up, that there was hope for him as long as he was on top; I turned around to walk into my office on this tin roof. I didn't have more than fifteen feet to walk, but I almost fainted when he told me my whole family was drowned. I turned right around to come in the office, and as I climbed toward the window, I looked and saw the house roof striking shore and seen him light, and saw him crawl up on his hands and knees, and saw he was saved, and when I looked above, there was a regular mountain of water coming. He was probably ahead of the main body of water a little.\n\n\"I started without coat or hat, and as it was pouring down raining at the time, I turned around to get my coat and hat, and ran with them in my hand onto the opposite side of the track onto a high bank, and when I looked up the track, the wave wasn't more than a hundred yards off, and I beckoned for this man to get off the track. He wasn't looking for it to come down the track, and he got out on the track ahead of it, and came pretty near getting caught the second time.\"\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nPickerell did not get caught at all nor, as things turned out, did any of his family, which was true of almost everyone else in Mineral Point.\n\nThe water had been coming up so fast that morning and during the early afternoon that most families had long since pulled out to higher ground by the time the flood fell on Front Street. First floors had been part way under water from about noon on, and there was no seeing the street or the riverbank. Picket fences, chicken coops, and backhouses had been drowned or had floated away as early as dinnertime.\n\nBut when the flood came, the wall of water swept through in such a way that it left almost nothing to suggest that there had ever been such a place as Mineral Point. The town was simply shaved off, right down to the bare rock.\n\nThe number of deaths came to sixteen, and quite a few people, like Christ Montgomery, went racing off on wild downstream rides astride their own rooftops. Christopher Gromley and his son traveled four miles before they were able to leap safely to shore; and three hours later, when they finally made it back to where Mineral Point had been, they found that all the other members of their family, Mrs. Gromley and six more children, were dead.\n\nThe water moved straight on down the valley, picking up a little speed wherever there were fewer turns to eat up its momentum and slowing down wherever the course began twisting again.\n\nEstimates are that, in some places, it may have been moving as much as forty miles an hour. Theoretically, if its weight and the average decline in elevation (thirty-three feet per mile) are taken into account, it had a speed of nearly ninety miles per hour. But the friction created by the rough terrain and the rubbish it pushed before it cut that speed drastically. What is more, its over-all rate of advance was extremely fitful. The wall of debris and water came on not steadily but in an irregular series of thunderous checks and rushes.\n\nAt times, eyewitnesses said later, the debris would even clog the path enough to bring the whole thing to a momentary standstill. All the crushed and tangled sweepings from the dam down would lock clear across the valley, seeming almost more than the millions of tons of pressure from behind could budge.\n\nBut then the whole seething mass would burst apart, with trees and telegraph poles flying into the air, as though blasted by dynamite, and the water would rush forward again, even faster. And as it moved on, the water kept on tossing logs and roots above its surface, as though the whole mass were full of life.\n\nThe friction set up by the terrain and the debris also caused the bottom of the mass of water to move much slower than the top. As a result the top was continually sliding over the bottom and down the front of the advancing wall, like a cake of ice across a slick board. The water, in other words, was rolling over itself all the time it was pressing forward, and this caused a violent downward smashing, like a monstrous surf falling on a beach, that could crush almost anything in its path. A man caught under it had no chance at all. In fact, one of the major problems later on would be finding the bodies that had been pounded deep down into the mud.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nWork train Number Two out of East Conemaugh was standing on the track nearest the hillside about a half mile upstream from the Conemaugh yards, at a place called Buttermilk Falls. The engineer sitting inside the rain-soaked cab was a friendly looking man with a round face and a dashing set of muttonchop whiskers. His name was John Hess.\n\nNormally he never worked east of the yards. His division ran west from Conemaugh, as far as Sang Hollow, which was three miles below Johnstown. But today, with trouble almost everywhere along the line, help was being sent wherever it was needed.\n\nHess had gone to his regular engine as usual that morning and had been told to take a work crew down to Cambria City to clear a slide. His conductor was R. C. Liggett, his fireman, J. B. Plummer.\n\nThey had gotten through to Cambria City without any problems and worked there until nearly eleven, when an order came through to go clear up the valley to a landslide at Wilmore, on the far side of South Fork. At Johnstown and East Conemaugh there had been delays of twenty minutes and more, but sometime between noon and one they had started out of the yards, running east along the Little Conemaugh on the track farthest back from the water against the hillside. Less than a mile out they passed a place where a good hundred feet of track on the right had fallen off into the river. Beyond \"AO\" tower they came up on a flagman.\n\n\"I stopped to let him on,\" Hess recalled later, \"and he says, 'You can't go any further.' And I asked him why, and he says, 'The north track is in the river and I don't believe the one you're on is safe,' and I says, 'Whereabouts?' and he says, 'Right through the big cut.' We went through the big cut to where the washout was, and seen it was badly washed, and I says to the conductor, 'I guess we'll have to take it afoot from here, and see where it is safe.' The conductor is an old experienced man, and he looked at the track we were on, and he says, 'It isn't safe, I won't run over that.' It was washed up to the ends of the ties and underneath the track, and undermined it; the ballast was still sticking to the ties; the ties seemed to be holding it up. He says, 'That isn't safe at all,' and we walked on up to Mineral Point, the next tower, and were going to report there but the operator told us he had no communication except with South Fork.\"\n\nThe operator, W. H. Pickerell, also told them about the messages which had been coming through from South Fork concerning the dam.\n\nThe men tramped back down the tracks to \"AO\" tower, where they took time out to eat. When they finished, it was about two o'clock and there was another message from East Conemaugh about a slide at Buttermilk Falls.\n\n\"We came down there,\" Hess said, \"and found the track that we had went up on. The conductor thought at first it was unsafe, and we walked down over it and left the engine above it, and he suggested to cut a couple cars off\u2014we had seven empty flats and the cabin ahead of our engine, and he suggested to cut off a couple cars and run them over to see whether it was safe, and probably we could bring the rest over. So we sent a man with two cars down over this dangerous place, and the bank didn't appear to slip much, and I brought the engine and rest of the train over. That left us on the Conemaugh side of this washout. I went down and the brakeman coupled up those cars that they had sent down ahead, and the conductor took the men with their shovels and went back to the slide about one hundred yards back of where we were laying.\n\n\"I don't suppose we had laid there more than twenty minutes until we heard the flood coming. We didn't see it but we heard the noise of it coming. It was like a hurricane through wooded country.\"\n\nConductor Liggett heard the sound and thought he saw the tops of the trees bend on the flat upstream between the railroad and the river.\n\n\"And I says to the men, 'We'll get away from here,' and I still looked, and then I was satisfied there was something coming. I couldn't see any rubbish or drift, but I saw there was a commotion among the green timber.\"\n\nHe shouted at the men to run. They dropped their tools and started down the tracks looking for a place where they could climb out of the way. But the rocks were too steep. They had to keep running, 200, 300, nearly 400 yards before they found a path.\n\nHess and Plummer still could see nothing, but according to Plummer, Hess said, \"The lake's broke,\" and with that he put on steam, tied down the whistle, and with their gravel cars clattering along in front, they went shrieking toward East Conemaugh and the railroad yards where the two sections of the Day Express stood waiting.\n\nThe Hess ride into Conemaugh would be talked about and described in books and magazine articles for years to come, with Hess in his engine (Number 1124), blazing down the valley, the water practically on top of him, in an incredibly heroic dash to sound the alarm.\n\nHess himself said afterward, \"I didn't know what else to do. I didn't see what else I could do.\"\n\nHe also said that he never did see any water, never waited around that long. Moreover, Plummer estimated that their top speed as they rounded the bend into the yards was no more than twelve miles an hour, which, he said, was the best they could do considering the load they were pushing, the condition of the tracks, and the fact that they had no idea which way the waiting trains on the other side of the blind turn might have been rearranged in their absence.\n\nIt was Hess's intention to keep right on going through the yards, clear to Johnstown, if the track was clear. But it was not. Plummer's guess was that no more than two minutes passed after they had pulled to a stop until the flood came.\n\n\"My brother was up on the bank and saw it coming,\" Plummer said. \"I didn't see it coming at all; he saw it coming though and saw where it was, and he ran down and grabbed hold of me and gouged Hess with his umbrella, and told us to run.\"\n\nWith their whistle still screaming the two men jumped from the cab and started for the hillside.\n\nA locomotive whistle was a matter of some personal importance to a railroad engineer. It was tuned and worked (even \"played\") according to his own particular choosing. The whistle was part of the make-up of the man; he was known for it as much as he was known for the engine he drove. And aside from its utilitarian functions, it could also be an instrument of no little amusement. Many an engineer could get a simple tune out of his whistle, and for those less musical it could be used to aggravate a cranky preacher in the middle of his Sunday sermon or to signal hello through the night to a wife or lady friend. But there was no horseplay about tying down the cord. A locomotive whistle going without letup meant one thing on the railroad, and to everyone who lived near the railroad. It meant there was something very wrong.\n\nThe whistle of John Hess's engine had been going now for maybe five minutes at most. It was not on long, but it was the only warning anyone was to hear, and nearly everyone in East Conemaugh heard it and understood almost instantly what it meant.\n\n### -3-\n\nFor the passengers on board the eastbound sections of the Day Express, the delay in East Conemaugh had been a dreary, monotonous affair. It was going on five hours now since the two trains had pulled to a stop between the river and the little town.\n\nThe first few hours had not been entirely uninteresting. A number of passengers had gone out to look things over. They went walking about in the rain, up and down the tracks, over to the depot or the telegraph tower to see if there was any word on how long they would be held there. Or they picked their way across the tracks to the riverbank where the crowds were gathered and several local men were making great sport of spearing things of interest out of the racing current. And on the other side of the tower, the township bridge looked as though it would go almost any time.\n\nBut when dinnertime had passed and there still seemed no end to the rain and any chance of moving on seemed even less likely, whatever spirit of adventure there had been faded rapidly. The passengers had nearly all returned to the trains. They passed the time as best they could in the dim afternoon light, with the sound of the pelting rain all around them.\n\nElizabeth Bryan of Philadelphia sat looking out the window, while beside her, her friend Jennie Paulson of Pittsburgh read a novel titled Miss Lou. The girls had been to a wedding in Pittsburgh the day before and were on their way to New York, each wearing a small corsage of roses. Another passenger, the Reverend T. H. Robinson, a professor at the Western Theological Seminary in Allegheny, was busy writing a diary of the day's events for his wife.\n\nOthers were doing what they could to amuse their children. Some slept. One elderly gentleman, feeling slightly ill, had had his berth made up and retired for the day. Still others gathered in small clusters along the aisles to talk about the storm and the rising river, service on the Pennsylvania, the dismal prospect of the night ahead, or the possibility of getting a decent meal somewhere.\n\nThere was talk too about the dam farther up the mountain that everyone had been hearing about. But there was not much concern about it.\n\n\"The possibility of the dam giving way had been often discussed by passengers in my presence,\" one man, a bank teller from New Jersey, was later quoted, \"and everybody supposed that the utmost danger it would do when it broke, as everybody believed it sometime would, would be to swell a little higher the current that tore down through Conemaugh Valley. Such a possibility as the carrying away of a train of cars on the great Pennsylvania Railroad was never seriously entertained by anybody.\"\n\nAnother passenger said that though many people may have been uneasy and were keeping \"a pretty good lookout for information,\" the porters comforted them \"with the assurance that the Pennsylvania Railroad Company always took care of its patrons.\"\n\nSo far whoever was directing things in the yard had chosen to move them twice. Twice they had watched the river working in on the tracks where the two trains stood, twice they had been moved forward and toward the hill, to be farther away from the river, and both times they had seen the tracks fall off into the water very soon after.\n\nNow they were on the last sidings next to town, as far from the river as it was possible to be. The second section was on the track beside the depot and closest to town. Then came the first section, on the next track toward the river; and on the other side of it, four tracks over, was the local mail train. The Day Express engines were standing about even with the depot, with Section Two a few cars farther forward. The last cars were nearly on line with the telegraph tower, which stood on the river side of the tracks.\n\nIn the caboose of the mail train, which was nearest of the three to the tower, a fire was going in the stove and the conductors and others of the train crews were sitting about keeping warm between turns at checking in at the tower.\n\nMessages had been coming in and going out of the tower steadily since early morning, and included those from South Fork. One operator, D. M. Montgomery, was later quoted as saying that the South Fork warning was generally well known. \"But of course,\" he added, \"nobody paid any more attention to it than if there hadn't been one at all. I know I didn't for one. It seemed like a rumor and they didn't take any belief in it.\"\n\nCharles Haak, another operator in the tower, and the one who had passed along the first message from South Fork to the yardmaster's office downstairs, said he did not pay much attention to the warnings either.\n\n\"I was a stranger there,\" Haak said. \"I had only been there but eight months, and of course, I listened to other people around there, residents there, and there was talk about the dam breaking, and they said there had been rumors but it never came, and so I thought that was how it would be this time.\"\n\nAs for the decisions on which trains to put where, they were being made by J. C. Walkinshaw, the yardmaster, who had been on duty since six that morning.\n\nWalkinshaw was forty-nine years old, a widower with five children. He had worked for the Pennsylvania since he was seventeen and had been in charge of the East Conemaugh yards for twenty-three years. In a book of short biographical sketches of long-time company employees published later by the railroad, Walkinshaw peers out of a small photograph with wide eyes framed by white hair and whiskers, looking rather astonished and not especially bright. Robert Pitcairn later said that though Walkinshaw suffered from consumption, and so was \"not very efficient\" as yardmaster and \"not very able to stand the physical strain,\" he, Pitcairn, nonetheless considered him amply qualified to look after the company's interest.\n\nWith circumstances as they were, Walkinshaw was left with little choice on what to do with the trains. He could not send them to the east, up the valley, because of the washouts at Buttermilk Falls and farther on. Nor could he send them back down the line toward Johnstown, as there were now reports of washouts in that direction as well.\n\nAbout all he could do was to keep moving them back from the river, which is what he did. But once he had them on the northernmost siding, he concluded that he had taken \"every reasonable precaution\" under the circumstances.\n\nOne other very possible choice, of course, was to move the passengers out of the trains to higher ground. But to ask that many people to go out into the cold wind and rain, into the muddy little town where there might well be problems finding enough shelter for everyone, seemed more than Walkinshaw was willing to do, even though he had full knowledge of the trouble at Lake Conemaugh and was heard by at least one witness to say that if the dam ever broke it would \"sweep the valley.\"\n\nWalkinshaw had been out several times, checking equipment, giving orders, looking at the river. From two o'clock to three there seemed to be no change in the water level. Apparently the worst was over. But then about 3:15 the bridge below the telegraph tower went, causing a great stir among the crowd. Hour by hour the current had eaten away at its foundations, until they let go and the whole thing just dropped down into the water. Sometime shortly after, Walkinshaw went into his office where his son handed him another message about the dam. Then, about a quarter to four, Walkinshaw decided to take a brief rest.\n\n\"I sat down and wasn't in the chair more than a minute until I heard a whistle blow,\" he recalled later.\n\n\"I jumped off my chair, and ran out and hollowed for every person to go away off the road and get on high ground, and I started up the track.\n\n\"Just as I left the office, I saw the rear end of this work train backing around the curve. I started up toward the train, and the minute I saw the train stop, I saw the engineer jump off and run for the hill. Just that minute, I saw a large wave come around the hill.\"\n\nInside the trains there was considerable commotion when the whistle started blasting. People stood up and began asking what the trouble was. Two Negro porters came through, both looking very excited and when asked if this meant that the dam had broken, the first one said he did not know, and the second said he thought it had. Outside, a conductor ran along between the trains shouting, \"Get to the hill! Get to the hill!\"\n\nThe Reverend Robinson said that no one knew what was going on, but that he remembered telling a woman next to him that he thought there was no danger. Then he looked out of the window and saw the wave coming. It appeared to be about 300 yards away, but there was no water to be seen. As one man said, it looked more like a hill of rubbish than anything else. Some people said it looked to be fifty feet high and it was taking everything in front of it. Everyone started for the door.\n\nOn Section One, the train standing between the mail train and Section Two, nearly every passenger got through the doors as fast as possible, but several of them, seeing the mud and rain, turned back. Jennie Paulson and her friend Elizabeth Bryan decided to go back for their overshoes. An old minister from Kalamazoo, Michigan, and his wife saw the flood bearing down and returned to their seats inside. But most people jumped and ran.\n\n\"It was every man for himself and God for us all,\" a New Haven, Connecticut, man named Wilmot said later.\n\nOnce they had clambered out into the rain, the passengers from Section One were faced with an immediate problem. On the next track, directly between them and high ground, stood Section Two.\n\n\"I saw three ways before me,\" the Reverend Robinson wrote afterward, \"climb over section No. 2 or crawl under it, or run down the track with the flood four car lengths and around the train. I instantly chose the latter. No one else followed me so far as I saw, but all attempted the other courses.\"\n\nRobinson made it safely around the train, but between him and the town and the streets which climbed to high ground was a ditch running parallel with the last track. It was about ten feet wide and perhaps five feet deep and rushing with water the color of heavily creamed coffee. Fortunately for him, Robinson arrived at the ditch at a place where a big plank had been laid across it. He was over in seconds and on his way up a steep, mud-slick embankment toward the town.\n\nBut others hesitated at the ditch, or leaped, or fell in and floundered about desperately, panicked. A number of men stopped, then moved back several steps, got a start, and jumped across. George Graham, a doctor from Port Royal, Pennsylvania, made it over this way; then, feeling that he still had time to spare, turned back to see if he could help some of the others.\n\n\"Just to my left, into the ditch, armpit deep, I saw nine women and girls tumble. I instantly grabbed the hand of the first and quickly pulled her out; the meanwhile all the others reached for me at once. I succeeded in saving them all except one old lady.\" Wilmot, the New Haven man, also cleared the ditch, carrying his child in his arms. When he looked back to find out what had become of his wife, he saw her hesitating on the other side, while a man beside her shouted, \"Jump, jump!\" She jumped and made it, and they ran on.\n\nCyrus Schick, a prominent Reading businessman who, with his wife and her sister, had been on his way home from a long health tour in the west, fell headlong into the ditch, as did his sister-in-law, Eliza Stinson. Schick's wife saw him bob up out of the water but then lost sight of him in all the confusion. His body and that of Miss Stinson were not found for ten days.\n\nOn the other side of the ditch the streets were full of running, shouting people. One local girl, a pretty young schoolteacher named Kate Giffen, who lived with her family on Front Street, would later describe racing to her house to pick up a child and seeing the woman who lived next door standing out on her porch screaming. She was the wife of John Hess, and she was screaming that the locomotive whistle still blasting away in the yards below was her husband's.\n\nThe Reverend Robinson found himself all alone, pressing up a back alley.\n\n\"I ran to the second street, and, hoping I might be safe, I turned and looked. The houses were floating away behind me, and the flood was getting round above me. I ran on to the third street and turned again; the water was close behind me, houses were toppling over, and the torrent again pushing round as if to head me off.\"\n\nHe kept on running, and when he turned again, he was high enough to see most of the town and the river valley. He watched a railroad car break loose and bound off in the plunging water, with two men on top trying desperately to keep their balance, moving first to one side then to another, as they headed toward Johnstown. How many passengers there might have been inside he could not tell. Everywhere people were rushing this way and that, some ducking inside doorways, some going for higher ground, stumbling and falling in the muddy streets. As the wave hit Front Street, buildings began falling, one on top of another; some seemed to bounce and roll before they were swept downstream. Locomotives from the roundhouse went swirling about like logs in a millrace.\n\nThe big, brick roundhouse had some nine engines in it when the flood struck. There were also another nineteen or twenty engines elsewhere in the yards, machine shops, a lot of rolling stock, a coal shed, and the three passenger trains. When the wave struck, it was probably about twenty-eight to thirty feet high, though, understandably, it looked a great deal higher to anyone caught in its path. The roundhouse was crushed, as one onlooker said, \"like a toy in the hands of a giant.\" The passenger trains were swamped in an instant. Section One was ripped apart and the baggage car and one coach were flung downstream and its Pullman coach caught fire. Yard engines went spinning off, one after another.\n\nSection Two and the mail train both miraculously survived. Section Two had been standing on an embankment five to six feet high, which certainly had something to do with its good fortune. There were also some freight cars in front of it and a coal shed that toppled across the tracks and helped deflect some of the onrush. But it was the roundhouse which almost certainly did most of the deflecting, and the fact that the valley both curves sharply and broadens out at that particular point along the river undoubtedly contributed to the inconsistent behavior of the oncoming wave.\n\nThe destruction all around the trains was fearful. Forty houses along Front Street were taken away. The Eagle Hotel, the Central Hotel, the post office, the railroad station, several stores, at least half the town was destroyed. The only railroad track left was that under Section Two, the mail train, and a few other pieces of equipment that, for one quirk of fate or another, happened to survive.\n\nThirty locomotives, some weighing as much as eighty tons, were scattered anywhere from a hundred yards to a mile from where they had been standing. One locomotive boiler would be carried all the way to Johnstown. How many lives were lost was never determined exactly. But at least twenty-two passengers from the Day Express sections were killed, including Cyrus Shick and his sister-in-law, Jennie Paulson and Elizabeth Bryan, the minister's wife from Kalamazoo, and F. Phillips, one of the Negro porters.\n\nIn East Conemaugh and Franklin, which was the name of the cluster of houses across the river from the yards, the known death toll came to twenty-eight.\n\nBut when the flood had passed, the engine and tender and six cars of the second section were almost at the exact same place they had been since before noon. They had been shoved along the track some, maybe twenty yards downstream. There was debris jammed in around them; but the sixteen people inside, who out of fear or indecision or dumb luck had stayed on board, were as safe and sound as though virtually nothing had happened. The water had come up over the seats in several cars and the passengers were soaked to the skin and badly shaken by the experience, but the only fatalities from their cars were among those who had tried to make a run for it.\n\nOne such passenger was John Ross of New Jersey, who, it was said later, was about thirty-three years old and a cripple. He had been traveling in one of the sleepers of Section Two, a car in which no one had chosen to hang back. Ross struggled out with the rest and was having a terribly difficult time until one of the train crew, a brakeman named J. G. Miller, came running along, picked him up, and managed to carry Ross some fifty yards or more before he dropped him.\n\n\"I had to drop him,\" Miller said later, \"to save myself. I saw it was either life or death with me, and I dropped him, and went for the hill.\"\n\nThe mail train, which had been standing on an even lower track and within no more than a hundred yards from the river, was also still intact, though it too had been shoved downstream quite a way. Like Section Two, the mail train had been partly sheltered by the roundhouse, but what seems to have saved it was the telegraph tower which fell right onto the engine just as it was being pushed past underneath, and pinned it down there until the water had passed. But unlike any of the other trains, there were no fatalities among its passengers. Everyone got off and onto the hill in time, thanks to the good sense of the crew and, perhaps in part, to the particular nature of the passengers themselves.\n\nLike all the others milling about the yards that morning, the eighteen or so passengers on board the mail train had heard mixed reports about the dam. They were told that if it ever broke it would drown the valley, and they were told that it would raise the level of the river maybe a foot or two. They were told it would take the water one hour to get from the lake to East Conemaugh, and they were told that it would take three hours. But mostly they were told that the dam was an old chestnut and not to think any more of it.\n\nBut their conductor, Charles Warthen, decided to tell them everything he knew, which was not a whole lot more, but he at least made it sound serious. He also told them to get ready to move out at the slightest notice, which was something neither of the conductors of the other trains had chosen to do.\n\nThe trainmen had been sitting in the last car of the mail train, talking about the situation, but for some reason or other, S. E. Bell, who was conductor on Section One, and Levi Easton, conductor on Section Two, made no effort to warn their passengers. The likeliest explanation seems to be that they, like so many others, had no real fear of anything happening.\n\nAll but one or two of Warthen's passengers were from the Night Off company. When they were told what might be expected of them, they quietly went to work rounding up their belongings, and the women began pinning up their skirts.\n\nAbout two o'clock C. J. McGuigan, brakeman on the mail train, had gone to the tower to ask if there was any further news, and the operator (which one it was he did not recall) said, \"Nothing, only another message that the dam is in a very dangerous condition.\" Not knowing anything about the dam, McGuigan asked him what the consequences might be if the dam broke.\n\n\"He kind of smiled,\" McGuigan told the story later, \"and said, 'It would cover this whole valley from hill to hill with water.' I got kind of frightened myself then, and I came right down, and told the passengers the second time to be on the lookout. . . . The ladies got frightened, and one of them wanted to know if they should not better go to the hills now, but the manager of the troupe said 'No, there is no danger yet' . . . The women seemed to be ready for it . . . I think they were very sensible people.\"\n\nMcGuigan then went back to the last car to the other crewmen. When the whistle began blowing, he ran to the passenger coach, shouting that the flood was coming, while conductors Bell and Easton took off for their trains, shouting the same thing.\n\n\"The women were sitting down, and the men were standing up, and they all had their grips and valises in their hands, and the men ran to the upper end of the car, and the ladies to the west end where I was.\n\n\"I assisted them out, and got up and looked through the train, and I couldn't see anybody on the train, and then I ran with two of the ladies, caught hold of their hands, and ran until we came to the ditch . . . and Miss Eberly, she refused to go into the ditch, and I threw her into it, and jumped down and assisted her up on the other side, and ran up the hill.\"\n\nNo one was lost, not even the baggagemaster, J. W. Grove, who decided to jump onto one of the yard engines standing about instead of trying for the hill. Every other loose engine in East Conemaugh was dumped over, driven into the hillside, or swept off with the flood, except the one he picked.\n\nBrakeman McGuigan went about for some time after carrying a picture of Miss Eberly, who was the pretty, young star of the company and actually Mrs. Eberly. She in turn was quoted widely when she returned to New York and described the bravery of the trainmen.\n\nLater the Pennsylvania Railroad, in an effort to establish exactly what had happened at East Conemaugh, conducted its own investigation, which would provide the one full account of the whereabouts of several dozen employees, the official decisions made before the water struck, and the personal decisions made when it was seen rounding the bend behind the Hess train. The study revealed several cases such as that of brakeman McGuigan, but it included many more where the reaction had been a good deal less coolheaded and quite a lot more human.\n\nSamuel S. Miller, for example, was also a brakeman, on the first section of the Day Express, the one on which most of the fatalities occurred. Part of his testimony went as follows:\n\nQ. Where were you when the big wave came?\n\nA. I was partly up on the hill.\n\nQ. What were you doing up there?\n\nA. Well, I was told that it was coming, and I got up on the hill for my own safety. I had gone to the Agent at Conemaugh, he was in the office at Conemaugh station\u2014\n\nQ. Who is he?\n\nA. E. R. Stewart\u2014and I borrowed the key from him for the water closet at the station, and I went in the water closet, and I think I was reading a Commercial-Gazette at the time when I heard the big whistle, and not knowing of any freight moving, I first thought probably it might be a freight engine that was to assist first Day Express up the mountain; I thought maybe they were alarming the passengers to get on the train and wondered why it wasn't a passenger engine whistle. The next thought that came to me was that South Fork dam had broken. I made a hasty exit, and when I got outside, a young fellow came along and said that was what was wrong. He seemed to be in a great hurry, and I asked him if South Fork dam had broken, and he replied, \"Yes, so people say,\" and it seems to me, I told him to run, and I ran too.\n\nQ. You broke for the hill?\n\nA. Yes, sir, I broke for the hill.\n\nQ. You didn't go to your train?\n\nA. No, sir; I got up on the hill probably 110 yards from the station, and looked back, and could see that the water had come. I could see that the water was between the houses at that time. I concluded I wasn't high enough, and I went up onto still higher ground.\n\nQ. You didn't climb a tree?\n\nA. No, sir.\n\nQ. Why didn't you go to your train and help get your passengers out?\n\nA. Well, for my own safety. From the descriptions I had heard, I concluded I had better be on the hill.\n\nQ. You might have gone to your train if you had tried?\n\nA. I could have, but the question was whether I could then have gone to the hill or not.\n\nQ. You believed your life was in danger, did you?\n\nA. Yes, sir.\n\nNow several hundred freight cars, a dozen or more locomotives, passenger cars, nearly a hundred more houses, and quite a few human corpses were part of the tidal wave that surged on down the valley.\n\nBefore it had plowed through East Conemaugh, the water had cut along the valley below Mineral Point, crashing back and forth against the mountainsides as the river channel swung this way and that. A mile or so above East Conemaugh, at the place the railroad men called \"the big cut,\" the Pennsylvania tracks again left the riverbank to take a short cut across another oxbow. Here again the flood had divided briefly, with part of it rushing headlong through the cut, while the rest went with the river on its two-mile loop off to the north. It was a course which sapped much of the wave's potential speed and energy. But from East Conemaugh on to Johnstown the valley opened up considerably and the river headed directly for its meeting with the Stony Creek. Past East Conemaugh the flood was on a straightaway, and there it began to gather speed.\n\nWoodvale got it next. Woodvale was somewhat bigger than East Conemaugh, prosperous, new, and the pride of the Cambria Iron Company. It was a sort of model town, built by the company, and with its clean white houses it looked, as one man said, more like a New England town. It was connected to Johnstown by a streetcar line that ran along its main thoroughfare, Maple Avenue, which was far and away the prettiest street in the valley. Maple Avenue was nearly a mile long and looked like a green tunnel that May. The trees reached over the tracks where the little yellow streetcars rattled by, their horses heading for the stable. When the flood had passed, there would be no trace of Maple Avenue.\n\nAbout 1,000 people lived in Woodvale. There was a woolen mill, built by Cambria Iron, which employed several hundred women. There was the Rosensteel tannery, two schoolhouses, some churches, and no saloons (they evidently were contrary to the Iron Company's idea of a model town).\n\nUnlike East Conemaugh, Woodvale got no warning. It was all over in about five minutes. The only building left standing was the woolen mill, and there was only part of that. At the western end of the town, the end almost touching Johnstown, stood the Gautier works, part of it in Woodvale, part in Conemaugh borough. The huge works sent up a terrific geyser of steam when the water hit its boilers, and then the whole of it seemed simply to lift up and slide off with the water. The tannery went and so did the streetcar shed, along with eighty-nine horses and about thirty tons of hay. When the water had passed, the town was nothing but a mud flat strewn with bits of wreckage. There was only a tiny fringe of houses left along the edges, on the foothills. There was not a tree, not a telegraph pole, not a sign of where the railroad had been. Two hundred and fifty-five houses had been taken off, and there was no way of telling where they had been.\n\nThe official figure for Woodvale's dead would later be set at 314, which means that about one out of every three people in town had been killed.\n\nA number of people had tried to crawl under a freight train that was blocking their way to the hill and had been crushed when the water hit the train and it started moving. Dozens of others had never made it out of their houses. At the woolen mill three men had kept retreating to different rooms and higher floors as the big brick building caved in piece by piece, all around them, until there was only that small part which miraculously withstood everything that was thrown against it.\n\nWhen the wireworks broke up it contributed miles and miles of barbed wire to the mountain of wreckage and water that, once past the wireworks, had only a few hundred yards to go until it struck Johnstown.\n\nIt was now not quite an hour since the dam had given way. The rain was still coming down, but not so hard as before, and the sky overhead was noticeably brighter.\n\nIn Johnstown the water in the streets seemed actually to be going down some. It had been a long, tiresome day in Johnstown, and the prospects for a night without gas or electricity were not especially cheerful, but by the looks of the water and the sky, the worst of it had passed.\n\n## V\n\n## \"Run for your lives!\"\n\n### -1-\n\nMost of the people in Johnstown never saw the water coming; they only heard it; and those who lived to tell about it would for years after try to describe the sound of the thing as it rushed on them.\n\nIt began as a deep, steady rumble, they would say; then it grew louder and louder until it had become an avalanche of sound, \"a roar like thunder\" was how they generally described it. But one man said he thought the sound was more like the rush of an oncoming train, while another said, \"And the sound, I will never forget the sound of that. It sounded to me just like a lot of horses grinding oats.\"\n\nEveryone heard shouting and screaming, the earsplitting crash of buildings going down, glass shattering, and the sides of houses ripping apart. Some people would later swear they heard factory whistles screeching frantically and church bells ringing. Who may have been yanking the bell cords was never discovered, but it was later reported that a freight engineer named Hugh Clifford had raced his train from above the depot across the stone bridge, his whistle going the whole way; and a man named Charles Horner blew the whistle over at Harry Swank's machine shop.\n\nThose who actually saw the wall of water would talk and write of how it \"snapped off trees like pipestems\" or \"crushed houses like eggshells\" or picked up locomotives (and all sorts of other immense objects) \"like so much chaff.\" But what seemed to make the most lasting impression was the cloud of dark spray that hung over the front of the wave.\n\nTribune editor George Swank wrote, \"The first appearance was like that of a great fire, the dust it raised.\" Another survivor described it as \"a blur, an advance guard, as it were a mist, like dust that precedes a cavalry charge.\" One young man said he thought at first that there must have been a terrible explosion up the river, \"for the water coming looked like a cloud of the blackest smoke I ever saw.\"\n\nFor everyone who saw it, there seemed something especially evil about this \"awful mass of spray\" that hovered over \"the black wreck.\" It was talked of as \"the death mist\" and would be remembered always.\n\nThe fact was there had been something close to an explosion up the river, at the Gautier works, when the water rolled over the fires there, which undoubtedly accounted for a good part of what they saw. Horace Rose, who witnessed about as much as anyone, thought so.\n\nAt the first sound of trouble he had rushed to the third floor of his house on lower Main Street and from the front window could see nearly a mile up the valley. Only a few minutes before he had been playfully teasing his neighbors' child, Bessie Fronheiser, from another window downstairs, telling her to come on over for a visit. The distance between the two houses was only about five feet, so he had put some candy on the end of a broom and passed it over to her. That was so successful that he next passed across a tin cup of coffee to Bessie's mother in the same way. She was just raising the cup to her lips when the first crash came.\n\nFrom the third floor Rose could see the long line of the rolling debris, stretching from hill to hill, slicing through the Gautier works, chopping it down and sending up a huge cloud of soot and steam.\n\nThe sight took his breath away. Once clear of the wireworks, the wave kept on coming straight toward him, heading for the very heart of the city. Stores, houses, trees, everything was going down in front of it, and the closer it came, the bigger it seemed to grow. Rose figured that he and his family had, at the most, two or three minutes before they would be crushed to death.\n\nThere would be slight differences of opinion later as to precisely when the wave crossed the line into Johnstown, but the generally accepted time is 4:07.\n\nThe height of the wall was at least thirty-six feet at the center, though eyewitness descriptions suggest that the mass was perhaps ten feet higher there than off to the sides where the water was spreading out as the valley expanded to a width of nearly half a mile.\n\nIt was also noted by dozens of people that the wave appeared to be preceded by a wind which blew down small buildings and set trees to slapping about in the split seconds before the water actually struck them. Several men later described how the wind had whipped against them as they scrambled up the hillsides, grabbing at brush to pull themselves out of the way at the very last instant.\n\nBecause of the speed it had been building as it plunged through Woodvale, the water struck Johnstown harder than anything it had encountered in its fourteen-mile course from the dam. And the part of the city which took the initial impact was the eastern end of Washington Street, which ran almost at right angles to the path of the oncoming wave.\n\nThe drowning and devastation of the city took just about ten minutes.\n\nFor most people they were the most desperate minutes of their lives, snatching at children and struggling through the water, trying to reach the high ground, running upstairs as houses began to quake and split apart, clinging to rafters, window ledges, anything, while the whole world around them seemed to spin faster and faster. But there were hundreds, on the hillsides, on the rooftops of houses out of the direct path, or in the windows of tall buildings downtown, who just stood stone-still and watched in dumb horror.\n\nThey saw the eastern end of Washington Street, the block where the Heiser dry-goods store stood, disappear in an instant. From there the wave seemed to divide into three main thrusts, one striking across the eastern end of town behind the Methodist Church, one driving straight through the center, and the other sticking more or less to the channel of the Little Conemaugh along the northern side of town. Not that there was any clear parting of the wave, but rather that there seemed to be those three major paths of destruction.\n\nEast of the park, Jackson and Clinton streets became rivers of rubbish churning headlong for the Stony Creek. On Main and Locust, big brick buildings like the Hulbert House collapsed like cardboard while smaller wood-frame stores and apartment houses jumped from their foundations and went swirling away downstream, often to be smashed to bits against still other buildings, freight cars, or immense trees caught by the same roaring current.\n\nEvery tree in the park was torn up by the roots and snatched away as the water crossed through the center of town. John Fulton's house caved in, and other big places went down almost immediately after\u2014the Horace Rose house, the John Dibert house, the Cyrus Elder house. The library, the telegraph office, the Opera House, the German Lutheran Church, the fire station, landmarks were vanishing so fast that no one could keep count of them. Then, perhaps no more than four minutes after the water had plunged across Washington Street, it broke past Vine on the far side of town and slammed into the hill which rises almost straight up to nearly 550 feet in back of the Stony Creek.\n\nIt was as though the water had hit an immense and immovable backboard, and the result was much as it had been at South Fork when the wave struck the mountainside there. An immediate and furious backwash occurred. One huge wave veered off to the south, charging up the Stony Creek, destroying miles of the densely populated valley, which, it would seem, had been well out of reach of any trouble from the valley of the Little Conemaugh. Other waves pounded back on Johnstown itself, this time, very often, to batter down buildings which had somehow withstood the first onslaught.\n\nHouses and rooftops, dozens of them with thirty or forty people clinging on top, went spinning off on a second run with the current, some to end up drifting about for hours, but most to pile in to the stone bridge, where a good part of the water headed after striking the hill, and where eventually all the water had to go.\n\nThe bridge crossed the Conemaugh River downstream from the Point where the Stony Creek and the Little Conemaugh come together. Past the bridge, another mile or so west, was the great Conemaugh Gap, the deepest river gorge between the Alleghenies and the Rockies and the flood's only way out of the mountains. But the bridge was never hit by the full force of the water. It had been built far enough down from the Point so that when the wave went grinding over Johnstown, it was shielded by Prospect Hill, and after the wave broke apart against the mountainside, the bridge had to withstand the impact of only a part of the wave.\n\nAs a result the bridge held. Had it been in the direct path and been struck full force, it would have been taken out just like everything else. But as it was, the mountainside took the brunt of the blow, the bridge survived, and the course of events for the next several hours went very differently.\n\nDebris began building rapidly among the massive stone arches. And now it was no longer the relatively small sort of rubbish that had been clogging the bridge most of the day. Now boxcars, factory roofs, trees, telegraph poles, hideous masses of barbed wire, hundreds of houses, many squashed beyond recognition, others still astonishingly intact, dead horses and cows, and hundreds of human beings, dead and alive, were driven against the bridge until a small mountain had formed, higher than the bridge itself and nearly watertight. So once again, for the second time within an hour, Lake Conemaugh gathered in a new setting. Now it was spread all across Johnstown and well beyond.\n\nBut this time the new \"dam\" would hold quite a little longer than the viaduct had and would cause still another kind of murderous nightmare. For when darkness fell, the debris at the bridge caught fire.\n\nNo one knows for sure what caused the fire. The explanation most often given at the time was that oil from a derailed tank car had soaked down through the mass, and that it was set off by coal stoves dumped over inside the kitchens of mangled houses caught in the jam. But there could have been a number of other causes, and in any case, by six o'clock the whole monstrous pile had become a funeral pyre for perhaps as many as eighty people trapped inside.\n\nEditor George Swank, who had been watching everything from his window at the Tribune office, wrote that it burned \"with all the fury of the hell you read about\u2014cremation alive in your own home, perhaps a mile from its foundation; dear ones slowly consumed before your eyes, and the same fate yours a moment later.\"\n\nBy ten o'clock the light from the flames across the lower half of town was bright enough to read a newspaper by.\n\n### -2-\n\nThe water in front of the Heiser store had been knee-deep since early in the afternoon, which was a record for that part of town. In the other floods over the years there had never been any water at all so far up on Washington Street.\n\nPeople had been coming in and out of the store most of the morning joking about the weather, buying this and that to tide them through the day. The floor was slick with mud from their boots, and the close, warm air inside the place smelled of tobacco and wet wool. George Heiser, wearing his usual old sweater, was too busy taking care of customers to pay much attention to what was going on outside.\n\nBut by early afternoon, with the street out front under two feet of water, hardly anyone was about, and the Heiser family was left more or less to itself. A few visitors dropped in, family friends, and an occasional customer. Mrs. Lorentz, from Kernville, sat visiting with Mathilde Heiser upstairs. She had come by alone, without her husband, who was the town's weatherman, and, no doubt, a busy man that day.\n\nSometime near four o'clock George Heiser had sent his son, Victor, out to the barn to see about the horses. The animals had been tied in their stalls, and George, worried that they might strangle if the water should get any higher, wanted them unfastened.\n\nThe barn, like the store front, was a recent addition for the Heisers. It had a bright-red tin roof and looked even bigger than it was, standing, as it did, upon higher ground at the rear of their lot. To get back to it, Victor had left his shoes and socks behind and, with a pair of shorts on, went wading across through the pelting rain. It had taken him only a few minutes to see to the horses and he was on his way out the door when he heard the noise.\n\nTerrified, he froze in the doorway. The roar kept getting louder and louder, and every few seconds he heard tremendous crashes. He looked across at the house and in the second-story window saw his father motioning to him to get back into the barn and up the stairs. Just a few weeks earlier he and his father had cut a trap door through the barn roof, because his father had thought \"it might be a good idea.\"\n\nThe boy was through the door and onto the roof in a matter of seconds. Once there he could see across the top of the house, and on the other side, no more than two blocks away, was the source of all the racket. He could see no water, only an immense wall of rubbish, dark and squirming with rooftops, huge roots, and planks. It was coming at him very fast, ripping through Portage and Center streets. When it hit Washington Street, he saw his home crushed like an orange crate and swallowed up.\n\nIn the same instant the barn was wrenched from its footings and began to roll like a barrel, over and over. Running, stumbling, crawling hand over hand, clawing at tin and wood, Victor somehow managed to keep on top. Then he saw the house of their neighbor, Mrs. Fenn, loom up in front. The barn was being driven straight for it. At the precise moment of impact, he jumped, landing on the roof of the house just as the walls of the house began to give in and the whole roof started plunging downward.\n\nHe clambered up the steep pitch of the roof, fighting to keep his balance. The noise was deafening and still he saw no water. Everything about him was cracking and splitting, and the air was filled with flying boards and broken glass. It was more like being in the middle of an explosion than anything else.\n\nWith the house and roof falling away beneath him, he caught hold of still another house that had jammed in on one side. Grabbing on to the eaves, he hung there, dangling, his feet swinging back and forth, reaching out, trying to get a toe hold. But there was none. All he could do was hang and swing. For years after he would have recurring nightmares in which it was happening to him all over again. If he let go he was finished. But in the end, he knew, he would have to let go. His fingernails dug deep into the water-soaked shingles. Shooting pains ran through his hands and down his wrists.\n\nThen his grip gave out and he fell, backwards, sickeningly, through the wet, filthy air, and slammed down on a big piece of red roof from the new barn. And now, for the first time, he saw water; he was bumping across it, lying on his stomach, hanging on to the roof with every bit of strength left in him, riding with the wave as it smashed across Johnstown.\n\nThe things he heard and saw in the next moments would be remembered later only as a gray, hideous blur, except for one split-second glimpse which would stick in his mind for the rest of his life.\n\nHe saw the whole Mussante family sailing by on what appeared to be a barn floor. Mussante was a fruit dealer on Washington Street, a small, dark Italian with a drooping mustache, who had been in Johnstown now perhaps three years. He had had a pushcart at first, then opened the little place not far from the Heiser store. Victor knew him well, and his wife and two children. Now there they were speeding by with a Saratoga trunk open beside them, and every one of them busy packing things into it. And then a mass of wreckage heaved up out of the water and crushed them.\n\nBut he had no time to think more about them or anything else. He was heading for a mound of wreckage lodged between the Methodist Church and a three-story brick building on the other side of where Locust Street had been. The next thing he knew he was part of the jam. His roof had catapulted in amongst it, and there, as trees and beams shot up on one side or crashed down on the other, he went leaping back and forth, ducking and dodging, trying desperately to keep his footing, while more and more debris kept booming into the jam.\n\nThen, suddenly, a freight car reared up over his head. It looked like the biggest thing he had ever seen in his life. And this time he knew there could be no jumping out of the way.\n\nBut just as it was about to crash on top of him, the brick building beside him broke apart, and his raft, as he would describe it later, \"shot out from beneath the freight car like a bullet from a gun.\"\n\nNow he was out onto comparatively open water, rushing across a clear space which he judged to be approximately where the park had been. He was moving at a rapid clip, but there seemed far less danger, and he took some time to look about.\n\nThere were people struggling and dying everywhere around him. Every so often a familiar face would flash by. There was Mrs. Fenn, fat and awkward, balanced precariously on a tar barrel, well doused with its contents, and trying, pathetically, to stay afloat. Then he saw the young Negro who worked for Dr. Lee, down on his knees praying atop his employer's roof, stark naked, shivering, and beseeching the Lord in a loud voice to have mercy on his soul.\n\nLike the Mussante family, they were suddenly here and gone like faces in nightmares, or some sort of grotesque comedy, as unreal and as unbelievable as everything else that was happening. And there was nothing he could do for them, or anybody else.\n\nHe was heading across town toward the Stony Creek. As near as he could reckon later, he passed right by where Horace Rose's house had stood, then crossed Main and sailed over the Morrell lot, and perhaps directly over where the Morrell greenhouse had been. Almost immediately after that, about the time he was crossing Lincoln Street, he got caught by the backcurrent.\n\nUntil then he had been keeping his eyes on the mountainside, which looked almost close enough to reach out and touch, and on the stone bridge. Both places looked to be possible landings, and either one would do as well as the other.\n\nBut now his course changed sharply, from due west to due south. The current grabbed his raft and sent it racing across the Stony Creek a half mile or so, over into the Kernville section, and it was here that his voyage ended.\n\n\"I passed by a two-and-a-half-story brick dwelling which was still remaining on its foundations. Since my speed as I went up this second valley was about that of a subway train slowing for a stop, I was able to hop to the roof and join a small group of people already stranded there.\"\n\nWhen he had been standing on the roof of his father's barn, looking across the housetops at the avalanche bearing down on Johnstown, he had taken his watch out of his pocket to look at the time. It was a big silver watch with a fancy-etched cover, which had been his fourteenth birthday present from his father. He had snapped it open, because, as he would say later, \"I wanted to see just how long it was going to take for me to get from this world over into the next one.\"\n\nNow, on the rooftop in Kernville, realizing that he had perhaps a very good chance of staying on a little longer in this world, he pulled out the watch a second time.\n\nAmazingly enough, it was still running, and he discovered with astonishment that everything that had happened since he had seen his home vanish had taken place in less than ten minutes.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nAgnes Chapman had watched her husband walk to the front door in his bedroom slippers about four o'clock, open it, peer out, and turn around looking, as she told it later on, \"pale and affrighted.\" The Reverend had just seen a boxcar with a man standing on top roll down the pavement in front of the parsonage. As he passed under the tree in the Chapmans' yard, the man had caught hold of a limb and swung himself up onto the roof of the front porch, from which he stepped through the second-story window directly over the Reverend's head.\n\nThe man was the ticket agent from the B & O station, across Washington Street from the Heiser store. Upon hearing the commotion up the valley, he had climbed on top of the car to see what was going on. Then the car had started running with what must have been a small but powerful current preceding the main wave. It swept the car down Franklin, across Locust, too fast for the man to do anything but hang on until he was within reach of the Chapmans' tree.\n\nThe whole scene meant only one thing to the Reverend. The reservoir had broken. He shouted for everyone to run for the attic.\n\nAgnes Chapman, with her seven-year-old granddaughter, Nellie, Mrs. Brinker (their neighbor from across the park), Mr. Parker, and Lizzie, the cook, all made a dash up the front stairs, while Chapman ran to the study to shut off the gas fire. As he turned to go back out to the hall, he saw the front door burst open and a huge wave rush in. He ran for the kitchen and scrambled up the back stairs. A few seconds more and he would have been swept against the ceiling and drowned. The water was up the stairs and into the second floor almost instantly.\n\nBy now the whole family was in the attic, along with the B & O ticket agent and two other young men who had jumped through an open window from a whirling roof.\n\n\"We all stood there in the middle of the floor, waiting our turn to be swept away, and expecting every minute to be drowned.\" Mrs. Chapman said. \"When our porches were torn loose, and the two bookcases fell over, the noise led us to think the house was going to pieces.\"\n\nThe noise everywhere was so awful they had to shout to hear one another. Outside other buildings were scraping and grinding against theirs, or crashing in heaps, and the thunder of the water kept on for what seemed an eternity.\n\n\"We knew . . . that many of our fellow citizens were perishing, and feared that there could be no escape for us,\" the Reverend Chapman wrote later. \"I think none was afraid to meet God, but we all felt willing to put it off until a more propitious time . . .\"\n\nAbout then a man Chapman thought to be \"an Arabian\" came bounding through the window, clad only in underdrawers and a vest. He was drenching wet, shaking with cold and terror, and kept shouting at them, \"Fader, Mudder. Tronk! Tronk! Two, tree hooner tollar, two, tree hooner tollar.\"\n\n\"I think he wanted to tell us he had lost his trunk with two or three hundred dollars he had saved to bring his mother and father over here,\" Chapman later explained.\n\nThe man got right down on his knees and started praying over a string of beads with such frenzy that the Reverend had to quiet him down, as he \"excited and alarmed the ladies.\"\n\nBut despite everything happening outside, the parsonage appeared to be holding on. And when the roar began to die off, Chapman went to the window to take a look. It was, he wrote afterward, \"a scene of utter desolation.\" With darkness closing down on the valley and the rain still falling, his visibility was quite limited. Still, he could make out the tall chimneys and gables of Dr. Lowman's house across the park, poking above what looked to him like a lake spread over the town at a depth of maybe thirty feet. There was not a sign of any of the other houses that had been on the park, but over on the left, where Main Street had been, he could see the dim silhouettes of the bank, Alma Hall, which was the Odd Fellows new building, and the Presbyterian Church sticking up out of the dark water. There were no lights anywhere and no people. \"Everyone is dead,\" Chapman thought to himself.\n\nMrs. Brinker asked him to look to see if her house was still standing. When he said it was not, the others did what they could to console her. The room grew steadily darker, and from outside came more sounds of houses cracking up and going down under the terrible weight of the water.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nThe Hulbert House had been the finest hotel in town. It was not so large as the Merchants' Hotel on Main, but it was newer and fitted out \"with all the latest wrinkles\" as one paper of the day put it. Drummers made up most of the trade, and things were arranged to suit them. Breakfast was served early, dinner at noon (a custom most big-city hotels had long since abandoned), and like the other chief hotels in town, each of its rooms had a long extension table where the salesmen could display their wares. \"Through some open door we can always see one piled high with samples of the latest fashions as adulterated for the provincial market,\" wrote a visitor from New York. It was also, for some strange reason, the only hotel in town without a bar.\n\nLocated on Clinton Street, three doors from Main on the east side of the street, it was all brick and four stories tall. Earlier that morning it had looked to quite a number of people like one of the safest places in town.\n\nFor example, Jeremiah Smith, a stonemason who lived in a small frame house over on Stony Creek Street, brought his wife and three children (nine-year-old Florence, seven-year-old Frank, and a four-month-old baby) across town through the rain to the safety of the Hulbert House. How long Smith stayed on with them is not known, but the evidence is he soon went back home again. In any case, he and his house survived the flood. His wife and children were crushed to death when the Hulbert House collapsed almost the instant it was hit by the flood.\n\nIn all there were sixty people inside the building by four o'clock in the afternoon. Only nine of them got out alive.\n\n\"Strange as it may seem, we were discussing the possibility of the dam breaking only a few hours before it really did,\" one of the survivors, a G. B. Hartley of Philadelphia, was later quoted.\n\n\"We were sitting in the office shortly after dinner. Everyone laughed at the idea of the dam giving way. No one had the slightest fear of such a catastrophe.\"\n\nAs the afternoon passed, Hartley moved to the second-floor parlor. He was sitting there talking to a Miss Carrie Richards, Charles Butler of the Cambria Iron Company, and Walter Benford, brother of the proprietor, when they heard shouting in the streets, immediately followed by loud crashes.\n\n\"At first sound,\" Hartley said, \"we all rushed from the room panic-stricken. Why it was I do not know, but we ran for the stairs. Mr. Butler took Miss Richards' hand. She called to me, and I took hold of her other hand. Then we started up the stairs. Mr. Benford did not go with us, but instead ran downstairs where his brother had an office. The scene in the hotel is beyond imagination or description.\n\n\"Chambermaids ran screaming through the halls, beating their hands together and uttering wild cries to heaven for safety. Frightened guests rushed about not knowing what to do nor what was coming. Up the stairs we leapt. Somewhere, I do not know when or how it was, I lost my hold of Miss Richards' hand. I really cannot tell what I did, I was so excited. I still rushed up the stairs and thought Miss Richards and Mr. Benford were just behind and I had reached the top flight of stairs and just between the third and fourth floors, when a terrific crash came. Instantly I was pinned by broken boards and debris . . .\"\n\nHartley then looked up and saw that the building's big mansard roof had been lifted right off and he was looking at nothing more than a sullen sky. In what must have been no more than thirty seconds or so, he managed to scramble out from under the debris and climb onto the roof, which was floating to the side of the crumbling hotel.\n\nF. A. Benford, proprietor of the house, was already on the roof, along with his brother Walter, a traveling salesman from Strawbridge & Clothier named Herbert Galager, and two chambermaids, one of whom had a dislocated shoulder. The roof floated off with the current. The rest of the building just disappeared; the walls fell in and it was gone.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nGertrude Quinn was the six-year-old daughter of James Quinn, who, with his brother-in-law, Andrew Foster, ran Geis, Foster and Quinn; Dry Goods and Notions, which stood diagonally across Clinton from the Hulbert House. The two of them, Gertrude would later say, looked like the Smith Brothers on the cough-drop box.\n\nJames Quinn was one of the few prominent men in Johnstown who had been noticeably concerned about the dam since early that morning. He had been to the lake several times over the years and had a clear idea of the volume of water there. If the dam should let go, he had said, not a house in town would be left standing.\n\nThe Quinns lived in one of Johnstown's show places, a three-story, red-brick Queen Anne house newly built at the corner of Jackson and Main. It was surrounded by an iron fence and stood well up off the street, perfectly safe, it was to be assumed, from even the worst spring floods. There were fruit trees and a flower garden in the front yard, a kitchen garden, a barn with one cow and some ducks out back. Inside, everything was the latest\u2014plumbing, icebox, organ, piano, Arab scarves, Brussels carpets, a marble clock from Germany on the mantel.\n\nBesides Gertrude, there were six other children in the family. Vincent, who was sixteen, was the oldest. Helen, Lalia, and Rosemary came next; then Gertrude, Marie, and Tom, who was only a few months old. Rosina Quinn, their mother, was the daughter of old John Geis, who had started the store back in canal days, soon after he arrived from Bavaria. She had worked in the business herself before marrying and was later teased for having five of her seven children in July, which, as everyone knew, was the slow season for dry goods.\n\nThen there was Libby Hipp, the eighteen-year-old German nursegirl, Gertrude's Aunt Abbie (Mrs. Geis), and her infant son, Richard. Aunt Abbie, who was probably no more than twenty-eight years old and a woman of exceptional beauty, had come east for her health from her home in Salina, Kansas. She had had three children in a very short time and needed rest.\n\nJames Quinn was most definitely head of the household. He was a trim, bookish man who had been an officer in the cavalry during the war and still held himself in a like manner. He was President of the Electric Light Company, a member of the school board, and, along with Cyrus Elder, Dr. Lowman, and George Swank, he was one of the trustees of the Johnstown Savings Bank. As a boy he had been taken by his father, a construction worker, to ask for a job in the Cambria mills but had been turned down because he looked too scared\u2014for which he would be forever thankful. For a while before the war he had toyed with the idea of becoming an artist, and one of his early efforts, Rebecca at the Well, done in house paints, hung in the third floor of the new house on Jackson Street. (Later on, his wife would tell him, \"The flood wasn't so bad, when you realize we got rid of Rebecca so gracefully.\")\n\nAt home he was quite exacting about the use of the English language, abhorring slang and insisting on proper diction. He liked cigars. He was quiet, dignified, a strong Republican, and a good Catholic.\n\nThe advertisements he was placing in the Tribune that spring let it be known that Foster and Quinn were offering the finest in Hamburg embroideries, Spanish laces, Marseilles quilts, and \"new French sateens.\" But the store also dealt in carpets, umbrellas, hatpins, hairpins, flannel drawers, striped calico dresses, pearl buttons, black hose, bolsters, and pillowcases.\n\n\"I cannot separate thoughts of parents, brothers, sisters, or home from our store,\" Gertrude would say later. \"When we went there, we became personages . . . the clerks, vying with one another for our attention, were always doing thoughtful little things for us.\"\n\nThe place was big and brightly lighted, with people coming and going, exchanging news and gossip. For the children it was all a grand show, from which they took home strings of stray beads or buttons or some other trinket.\n\nFor Foster and Quinn (father-in-law Geis had long since retired), the place represented an investment of about $60,000 and provided a very good living.\n\nOn the morning of the 31st, James Quinn had gone to the store early to supervise the moving of goods to higher levels. Before leaving home he had told everyone to stay inside. One of his children, Marie, was already sick with measles, and he did not want the others out in the rain catching cold. He did, however, allow young Vincent to come along with him downtown to lend a hand.\n\nAt noon, when he had returned for dinner, the water had been up to his curbstone. He had been restless and worried through the meal, talking about the water rising in the streets and his lack of confidence in the South Fork dam.\n\nA few days before, he and his wife and the infant, Tom, and Lalia had gone to Scottdale for a christening, and Mrs. Quinn and the two children had stayed on to visit with her sister. Now Aunt Abbie and Libby Hipp were more or less running things, and he was doing his best to make sure they understood the seriousness of the situation.\n\n\"James, you are too anxious,\" his sister-in-law said. \"This big house could never go.\"\n\nIn recalling the day years afterward, Gertrude felt sure that her father was so worried that he would have moved them all to the hill that morning, even though he had no special place to take them, if it had not been for Marie. He was afraid of the effect the light might have on her eyes.\n\nAfter dinner he had gone back to the store, and Gertrude slipped out onto the front porch where she began dangling her feet in the water, which, by now, covered the yard just deep enough for the ducks to sport about among the flowers. Everyone who survived the flood would carry some especially vivid mental picture of how things had looked just before the great wave struck; for this child it would be the sight of those ducks, and purple pansies floating face up, like lily pads, in the yellow water.\n\nShortly before four Gertrude's father suddenly appeared in front of her. He took her with one hand, with the other gave her a couple of quick spanks for disobeying his order to stay inside, and hurried her through the door.\n\n\"Then he gave me a lecture on obedience, wet feet, and our perilous position; he said he had come to take us to the hill and that we were delayed because my shoes and stockings had to be changed again. He was smoking a cigar while the nurse was changing my clothes. Then he went to the door to toss off the ashes.\"\n\nIt was then that he saw the dark mist and heard the sound of the wave coming. He rushed back inside, shouting, \"Run for your lives. Follow me straight to the hill.\"\n\nSomeone screamed to him about the baby with the measles. He leaped up the stairs and in no more than a minute was back down with Marie wrapped in a blanket, his face white and terrified-looking.\n\n\"Follow me,\" he said. \"Don't go back for anything. Don't go back for anything.\" Everyone started out the door except Vincent. Just where he was no one knew. Helen and Rosemary ran on either side of their father, holding on to his elbows as he carried the baby. When they got to the street the water was nearly to Rosemary's chin, but she kept going, and kept trying to balance the umbrella she had somehow managed to bring along. The hill was at most only a hundred yards away. All they had to do was get two short blocks to the end of Main and they would be safe.\n\nJames Quinn started running, confident that everyone was with him. But Aunt Abbie, who was carrying her baby, and Libby Hipp, who had Gertrude in her arms, had turned back.\n\nWhen she reached the top of the steps that led from the yard down to the street, Aunt Abbie had had second thoughts.\n\n\"I don't like to put my feet in that dirty water,\" Gertrude would remember her saying. Libby said she would do whatever Aunt Abbie thought best, so they started back into the house.\n\n\"Well, I kicked and scratched and bit her, and gave her a terrible time, because I wanted to be with my father,\" Gertrude said later. How the two women, each with a child, ever got to the third floor as fast as they did was something she was never quite able to figure out. Once there, they went to the front window, opened it, and looked down into the street. Gertrude described the scene as looking \"like the Day of Judgment I had seen as a little girl in Bible histories,\" with crowds of people running, screaming, dragging children, struggling to keep their feet in the water.\n\nHer father meanwhile had reached dry land on the hill, and turning around saw no signs of the rest of his family among the faces pushing past him. He grabbed hold of a big butcher boy named Kurtz, gave him Marie, told him to watch out for the other two girls, and started back to the house.\n\nBut he had gone only a short way when he saw the wave, almost on top of him, demolishing everything, and he knew he could never make it. There was a split second of indecision, then he turned back to the hill, running with all his might as the water surged along the street after him. In the last few seconds, fighting the current around him that kept getting deeper and faster every second, he reached the hillside just as the wave pounded by below.\n\nLooking behind he saw his house rock back and forth, then lunge sideways, topple over, and disappear.\n\nGertrude never saw the wave. The sight of the crowds jamming through the street had so terrified her aunt and Libby Hipp that they had pulled back from the window, horrified, dragging her with them into an open cupboard.\n\n\"Libby, this is the end of the world, we will all die together,\" Aunt Abbie sobbed, and dropped to her knees and began praying hysterically, \"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Have mercy on us, oh, God . . .\"\n\nGertrude started screaming and jumping up and down, calling \"Papa, Papa, Papa,\" as fast as she could get it out.\n\nThe cupboard was in what was the dining room of an elaborate playhouse built across the entire front end of the third floor. There was nothing like it anywhere else in town, the whole place having been fitted out and furnished by Quinn's store. There was a long center hall and a beautifully furnished parlor at one end and little bedrooms with doll beds, bureaus, washstands, and ingrain carpets on the floors. The dining room had a painted table, chairs, sideboard with tiny dishes, hand-hemmed tablecloths, napkins, and silverware.\n\nFrom where she crouched in the back of the cupboard, Gertrude could see across the dining room into a miniature kitchen with its own table and chairs, handmade iron stove, and, on one wall, a whole set of iron cooking utensils hanging on little hooks. Libby Hipp was holding her close, crying and trembling.\n\nThen the big house gave a violent shudder. Gertrude saw the tiny pots and pans begin to sway and dance. Suddenly plaster dust came down. The walls began to break up. Then, at her aunt's feet, she saw the floor boards burst open and up gushed a fountain of yellow water.\n\n\"And these boards were jagged . . . and I looked at my aunt, and they didn't say a word then. All the praying stopped, and they gasped, and looked down like this, and were gone, immediately gone.\"\n\nShe felt herself falling and reaching out for something to grab on to and trying as best she could to stay afloat.\n\n\"I kept paddling and grabbing and spitting and spitting and trying to keep the sticks and dirt and this horrible water out of my mouth.\"\n\nSomehow she managed to crawl out of a hole in the roof or wall, she never knew which. All she saw was a glimmer of light, and she scrambled with all her strength to get to it, up what must have been the lath on part of the house underneath one of the gables. She got through the opening, never knowing what had become of her aunt, Libby, or her baby cousin. Within seconds the whole house was gone and everyone in it.\n\nThe next thing she knew, Gertrude was whirling about on top of a muddy mattress that was being buoyed up by debris but that kept tilting back and forth as she struggled to get her balance. She screamed for help. Then a dead horse slammed against her raft, pitching one end of it up into the air and nearly knocking her off. She hung on for dear life, until a tree swung by, snagging the horse in its branches before it plunged off with the current in another direction, the dead animal bobbing up and down, up and down, in and out of the water, like a gigantic, gruesome rocking horse.\n\nWeak and shivering with cold, she lay down on the mattress, realizing for the first time that all her clothes had been torn off except for her underwear. Night was coming on and she was terribly frightened. She started praying in German, which was the only way she had been taught to pray.\n\nA small white house went sailing by, almost running her down. She called out to the one man who was riding on top, straddling the peak of the roof and hugging the chimney with both arms. But he ignored her, or perhaps never heard her, and passed right by.\n\n\"You terrible man,\" she shouted after him. \"I'll never help you.\"\n\nThen a long roof, which may have been what was left of the Arcade Building, came plowing toward her, looking as big as a steamboat and loaded down with perhaps twenty people. She called out to them, begging someone to save her. One man started up, but the others seemed determined to stop him. They held on to him and there was an endless moment of talk back and forth between them as he kept pulling to get free.\n\nThen he pushed loose and jumped into the current. His head bobbed up, then went under again. Several times more he came up and went under. Gertrude kept screaming for him to swim to her. Then he was heaving himself over the side of her raft, and the two of them headed off downstream, Gertrude nearly strangling him as she clung to his neck.\n\nThe big roof in the meantime had gone careening on until it hit what must have been a whirlpool in the current and began spinning round and round. Then, quite suddenly, it struck something and went down, carrying at least half its passengers with it.\n\nGertrude's new companion was a powerful, square-jawed millworker named Maxwell McAchren, who looked like John L. Sullivan. How far she had traveled by the time he climbed aboard the mattress, she was never able to figure out for certain. But later on she would describe seeing many flags at one point along the way, which suggests that she went as far up the Stony Creek as Sandy Vale Cemetery, where the Memorial Day flags could have been visible floating about in the water. Sandy Vale is roughly two miles from where the Quinn house had been, and when Maxwell McAchren joined her, she had come all the way back down again and was drifting with the tide near Bedford Street in the direction of the stone bridge.\n\nOn a hillside, close by to the right, two men were leaning out of the window of a small white building, using long poles to carry on their own rescue operation. They tried to reach out to the raft, but the distance was too great. Then one of them called out, \"Throw that baby over here.\"\n\nMcAchren shouted back, \"Do you think you can catch her?\"\n\n\"We can try,\" they answered.\n\nThe child came flying through the air across about ten to fifteen feet of water and landed in the arms of Mr. Henry Koch, proprietor of Koch House, a small hotel and saloon (mostly saloon) on Bedford Street. The other man in the room with him was George Skinner, a Negro porter, who had been holding Koch by the legs when he made the catch. The men stripped Gertrude of her wet underclothes, wrapped her in a blanket, and put her on a cot. Later she was picked up and carried to the hill, so bundled up in the warm blanket that she could not see out, nor could anyone see in very well.\n\nEvery so often she could hear someone saying, \"What have you got there?\" And the answer came back, \"A little girl we rescued.\" Then she could hear people gathering around and saying, \"Let's have a look.\" Off would come part of the blanket in front of her face and she would look out at big, close-up faces looking in. Heads would shake. \"Don't know her,\" they would say, and again the blanket would come over her face and on they would climb.\n\nGertrude never found out who it was who carried her up the hill, but he eventually deposited her with a family named Metz, who lived in a frame tenement also occupied by five other families. The place looked like paradise to her, but she was still so terrified that she was unable to say a word as the Metz children, neighbors, and people in off the street jammed into the kitchen to look at her as she lay wrapped now in a pair of red-flannel underwear with Mason jars full of hot water packed all around her.\n\nLater, she was put to bed upstairs, but exhausted as she was she was unable to sleep. In the room with her were three other refugees from the disaster, grown women by the name of Bowser, who kept getting up and going to the window, where she could hear them gasping and whispering among themselves. After a while Gertrude slipped quietly out of bed and across the dark room. Outside the window, down below where the city had been, she could now see only firelight reflecting on water. It looked, as she said later, for all the world like ships burning at sea.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nThe Reverend Dr. David Beale, pastor of the Presbyterian Church on Main Street, was one of the several hundred people crowded into the cavernous, pitch-dark rooms of the second, third, and fourth floors of Alma Hall. The building was on Main, five doors up from Dr. Beale's church and directly across the street from the park. It was the tallest, largest structure in Johnstown.\n\nDr. Beale had been at home that afternoon, in the Lincoln Street parsonage, which stood directly behind his church, and like his good friend and neighbor the Reverend Chapman, he had been working on his sermon for Sunday. About four he had gone into the parlor to help take up the carpet. Then all at once the house was struck, and in the next few seconds he snatched up the family Bible, his wife turned off the gas, his daughter grabbed the canary cage, and they and several neighbors who had dropped by earlier all dashed up the front stairs. By the time they reached the second floor the water was up to their waists, and a hat rack was driven against Beale's back with such force that it nearly knocked him under. As they reached the third floor a man washed in through the window.\n\n\"Who are you? Where are you from?\" Beale shouted.\n\n\"Woodvale,\" the man gasped. He had been carried on a roof a mile and a quarter.\n\nExpecting at any moment \"to be present with the Lord,\" Beale led the group in a prayer and read aloud from the Bible, his voice straining against the noise of the flood:\n\n\"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.\n\n\"Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea . . .\"\n\nOutside twisted wreckage, tank cars, freight cars, and what appeared to be every house in sight went tumbling past the window. The Reverend Beale saw J. Q. Benshoff, Johnstown's leading bookseller go by, Mrs. John Fulton and her daughter, and two small children clinging to a roof, both of them nearly naked. For blocks around every building appeared to have been obliterated.\n\nThere were ten people in the Beale attic, counting the newcomer from Woodvale. Soon after, Beale helped save Captain A. N. Hart, his wife, sister, and two small sons by pulling them in through the window. But there was considerable doubt as to how long the frame parsonage could last, and especially when, after a shifting and quieting of the current, the wreckage which had been shoved against the west side of the house began slowly drifting off and the whole building started to jerk and tremble.\n\nA decision was made to try, before nightfall, to walk across the flood\u2014over the debris\u2014to Alma Hall, which was the equivalent of about one block away. Captain Hart went out the window first on the end of a rope, tested a roof that was floating below, found it stable enough, and the other fourteen, plus the Beales' dog, a terrier called \"Guess,\" followed after. The Reverend Beale was the last one out. Then they started off, picking their way over tree trunks, timbers, stepping from one moving house to another, climbing up the sides of roofs sometimes so steep that part of the group on one side would be out of sight from those on the other side, then jumping across sudden spaces of dark water or bridging them with stray planks. At one point one of the girls lost her balance and fell in, vanishing from sight except for her hair which floated on the surface. She was rescued by pulling her back on some long boards, and everyone continued on.\n\nBy now, very near dark, the city was one huge, vile-looking lake anywhere from ten to thirty feet deep, much of it crusted over with a grinding pack of wreckage, across which now other groups of tiny figures, barely visible in the fading light, could be seen groping their way toward the hills or the few buildings still left standing.\n\nAbout the time the Reverend Beale and his party had climbed out of the parsonage, a break had occurred in the railroad embankment to the right of the stone bridge, between the bridge and the depot, and the water began raging through just as though it were a spillway. House after house had plunged through the break like boats running the rapids, many of them loaded with people, dozens to be dashed to pieces when they hit Cambria City below.\n\nBut there were some people who, one way or another, survived the trip to be fished out by rescue teams farther along the river. One of them was Maxwell McAchren, who, after throwing little Gertrude to safety, sailed on toward the bridge in time to be sucked through the break. He wound up riding the mattress straight through Cambria City at the time when a good part of it was being destroyed, past the Cambria works as they were being pounded by the water, and on down the Conemaugh four miles before he was finally pulled to shore by a crowd of men with ropes.\n\nWith the break in the embankment the level of the water over the city began to go down, but only slowly, since the Little Conemaugh and the Stony Creek were still pouring in immense quantities of water, mud, and debris. So as night began, those buildings which had somehow held up against everything so far were still withstanding as much as twenty feet of water, and very often they had had several hundred tons of wreckage dumped against them. For those who would manage to get inside them, the long night ahead would be by far the most agonizing part of the whole ordeal.\n\nWhen the Reverend Beale's group finally reached Alma Hall, there were already close to 200 people inside. At the Dean Canan house there were 60 people in the attic. At least 51 people were in the attic of Dr. Walters' house on Vine Street. The Fred Krebs house had 125 people inside before the night ended. Nearly 200 people were in the upper floors of the Union Street School, more than 100 on top of the Wolfe Building, and at the Morrell house (by then it had been converted into the Morrell Institute, a vocational training school for the Iron Company) there were 175 people. And over at Dr. Swan's tall brick house at the corner of Vine and Stony Creek streets there were close to 90 people, including Horace Rose, who lay stretched out on the floor with a dislocated shoulder, a broken collarbone, several crushed ribs, and half of his face ripped open.\n\nThere had been a few minutes after the flood had fallen on his part of Main Street during which Rose had been at his window, almost hypnotized by the scene outside. He had seen John Dibert's house squashed like a paper bag. Another brick house fell with a crash. A large frame building directly across the street had lifted up and charged right for him. Then there had been a horrible noise, he had felt himself falling, and all was dark.\n\n\"A moment later I felt the press of a heavy shock, a sense of excruciating pain . . . the thought came upon me that I was being crushed to death . . .\"\n\nHis whole right side had been caved in by falling timbers, and he was powerless to free himself. He had heard his youngest son calling for help but had been unable to do anything for him. He had seen his daughter, June, rise up out of the water, then, almost immediately, sink back out of sight. From out of nowhere a small boy had appeared among the chaos and told him his wife had drowned. Then another stranger, this one a young man, seemed, Rose said later, to shoot out of the debris. Rose told him to go help his wife and daughter. The man, Rose learned afterward, was a Pittsburgh dentist named Phillips, and in a few frantic minutes he managed to free Mrs. Rose from the timbers that had fallen on her. Then the majority of the Rose household\u2014Rose, his wife and daughter (she too had been rescued somehow), two of his sons, one maid, \"the strange boy,\" as Rose called him, and an elderly lady who had been pulled off a floating shutter by one of his sons\u2014were all together on a single stout roof which chanced by at the very moment when the last of their house was disappearing in the tide. The roof had been heading toward the stone bridge. But, Rose wrote later, \"Scarcely was the complement of passengers complete, when the current turned, and our ship was driven with terrific velocity directly up the channel of the Stony Creek . . .\"\n\nThen for several more hours they had floated about, sometimes wallowing in dead water, other times rushing rapidly back over a course they had just completed. And through it all Rose lay helpless, in terrible pain, and shaking with severe chills as the cold rain beat down.\n\nThey had seen the spire of St. John's Catholic Church catch fire, which according to most accounts had happened about eight o'clock, and had watched the flames leap clear to the cross on top before the whole thing toppled and fell into the water. At another point they had been becalmed within perhaps a hundred feet of where Rose's office had been on Franklin Street, and listened to the ringing of the ponderous bell in the town clock. The clock was in the steeple of the Lutheran Church, and somehow or other its mechanism was still functioning the same as ever. Through the rest of the night, despite everything, every hour on the hour, it bonged away. The sound had a powerful effect on everyone who heard it.\n\nThen by another sudden change in the surface currents, the roof had been driven off over the main channel of the Stony Creek, where by now the current was again heading downstream. They were carried a hundred yards or more before the roof lodged against the side of the Swan house.\n\nRose was lifted from the roof and through a window. From then until morning he lay listening to buildings breaking up somewhere out in the night and watching the light from the fire at the bridge play across the walls and ceiling.\n\nFor the Reverend Beale and the others inside Alma Hall there had been an immediate fear of fire and what might happen if panic should break out among so many people waiting in the dark. An Alma Hall government had been set up, with Beale and Captain Hart each put in charge of one of the floors. Some whiskey was confiscated, and the use of matches was strictly forbidden because of the likelihood of a natural-gas leak in the basement. A count was made to see how many there were (it came to 264), and the Reverend once again led a prayer.\n\nJames Walters, a lawyer, was named director of the building. Walters had made one of the day's most extraordinary voyages, having been swept from his home on Walnut Street on top of a roof which took him spinning across town until he smashed into the side of Alma Hall, flew headlong through a window, and landed square in the middle of his own office.\n\nThe fourth member of the governing body was the only physician in the building, Dr. William Matthews, who spent the entire night tending to the wounded, without sleep or rest, despite the fact that he had two broken ribs.\n\nIn the Reverend Beale's words, it was a \"night of indescribable horrors.\" The only light was the faint, eerie glow from the fires outside. Up near the long front windows that earlier in the day had looked down into the green treetops of the park, the light was bright enough to recognize a nearby face; but farther back in the deep, high-ceilinged rooms it was nearly pitch-black, and on the stairways between floors there was no light at all.\n\nNearly everyone was wringing wet, filthy, and suffering from the cold. A number of people had most of their clothes torn off. There was no food and no water. There were no blankets, no dry clothes, and no medical supplies. The injured lay shivering in the dark. The rooms were filled with their moaning, with the crying of scared, hungry children, and with a lot of fervent praying.\n\nOutside they could hear the rush of the rain and faint calls for help, a sudden scream, and every now and then the unearthly howling of dogs and other animals, which to many people was the most frightful sound of all.\n\nNor was there any assurance whatsoever that the whole enormous building would not go the way of so many others and crack apart and bury them all under tons of brick and plaster and falling timbers. Everyone was asked to move about as little as possible. According to Beale, \"the expressed opinion of the contractors present\" was that the building would not last the night.\n\nPeople began thinking about whether their own corpses would be recognizable or where they might be buried, if ever their bodies were found. The suspense was unbearable, and it kept on, hour after hour. It seemed morning would never come.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nBut Alma Hall stood through the night, as did the Presbyterian Church and its parsonage, Dr. Lowman's house, where a small crowd had gathered in the top floor, and the Methodist parsonage, where the Chapmans and their assorted guests huddled together in the numbing cold praying for morning. The buildings survived because they were on the lee side of the big, stone Methodist Church. Standing as it did, at the corner of Franklin and Locust, on the northeastern corner of the park, the church was one of the first sizable buildings in town to be struck by the wave. Not only had it held, but it had split the wave and so served as a shield for buildings directly in line behind it. (One tale to come out of Alma Hall later on told of a voice in the dark saying, \"We've been saved by the Methodist Church,\" whereupon another voice answered back, \"Only the Catholic Church can save!\")\n\nElsewhere in the night the story was quite different. Buildings caved in or caught fire and burned to the water line. The St. John's fire was the biggest and most spectacular, but there were fires among several houses close by; the Keystone Hotel caught fire and there were one or two small fires over in Kernville.\n\nAnd aside from the many large groups of people gathered inside Alma Hall, Dr. Swan's house, or the other buildings that were still standing, there were any number of smaller groups of four to six, or even one to two, people who spent the night inside their own tiny attics or atop the roofs of little houses that bobbed about with the current. Some were closed in under roof beams, with no windows to look out or escape through; they were still alive, but trapped, and with no way of knowing what might happen next.\n\nAt least one family had jumped into a large bed when the water rushed up their stairs. The bed was borne clear to the ceiling by the water, and the family stayed there, floating inside their own house through the remainder of the night.\n\nAnother family named Williams had their house split in half at the bridge, then went floating up the Stony Creek in what was left of the attic. In the darkness that night Mrs. Williams gave birth to a baby boy; and the family stayed there until morning, soaked, freezing cold, the baby wrapped in a shawl.\n\nScores of others floated on rooftops or freight cars or half-submerged debris, without any protection from the pouring rain. A Mrs. Jacob Malzi hung on to the eaves of a house all night, up to her waist in water. A Miss Minnie Chambers had climbed inside a freight car which had been carried through the cut near the bridge and smashed to pieces against the roof of the Cambria works, where she, miraculously still alive, spent the night holding on to a small pipe that stuck up through the roof. James Shumaker lay half-unconscious across a heap of drifting wreckage all night, his face and arms badly torn and nearly blinded in both eyes by sand and lime.\n\nSeveral people spent the night in trees, hanging on with the water lapping about below, never daring to close their eyes, even for a few moments, for fear they might fall asleep, lose their grip, and drop into the black current. Jacob Horner and his family of eight spent all night in a tree; so did Reuben Bensen and Mrs. Ann Buck, who was eighty years old, and Mrs. John Burket, who had had every bit of her clothing ripped from her back by the flood.\n\nOf the great many people who were lucky enough to get to dry land, there were a number who were in such a state of shock and fear that they just started walking, stopping for nothing, stumbling on blindly through the dripping woods until the first light of morning.\n\nBut by far the worst of the night's horrors was the fire at the bridge. Minnie Chambers, the girl who clung to the roof of the Cambria works, said later that she could hear screaming from the bridge all through the night. William Tice, who owned a drugstore on Portage Street, described what he saw soon after he had been fished out of the water near the bridge.\n\n\"I went up on the embankment and looked across the bridge, which was filled full of debris, and on it were thousands of men, women, and children, who were screaming and yelling for help, as at this time the debris was on fire, and after each crash there was a moment of solemn silence, and those voices would again be heard crying in vain for the help that came not. At each crash hundreds were forced under and slain.\n\n\"I saw hundreds of them as the flames approached throw up their hands and fall backward into the fire, and those who had escaped drowning were reserved for the more horrible fate of being burned to death. At last I could endure it no longer, and had to leave, as I could see no more.\"\n\nFrank McDonald, a railroad conductor who apparently kept on watching, said, \"They reminded me of a lot of flies on flypaper, struggling to get away with no hope and no chance to save them.\"\n\nActually, for anyone to see much of what was going on was extremely difficult, with the rain pouring down, the dark, the smoke, and the wild flames. One after another, houses had been swept against the pileup and quickly took fire. Out of them, crawling on hands and knees, climbing, jumping from place to place, helping one another, small, dark figures had appeared, now silhouetted sharply against the high, wind-whipped flames, now invisible against the black shadow of mangled debris, now emerging again from the smoke and groping their way toward the ends of the bridge. That there looked to be thousands of them and that they seemed insectlike is understandable enough; but evidence is that, at most, perhaps 500 to 600 people were driven into the burning heap, and though exact figures were never settled on, it is likely that all but about 80 of them managed to escape.\n\nA good many escapes were made thanks to the courage of bystanders who rushed in to help. They lifted old people and children from the windows of half-shattered houses. They helped carry the badly injured across the wreckage to the hillsides.\n\nA girl named Rose Clark was trapped near one end of the bridge, half submerged under water, with a broken arm and a broken leg which was pinned down by timbers. A group of men had worked for several hours to free her leg but without success and the fire kept spreading closer. For a short while there was talk among them of cutting her leg off, rather than letting her burn to death, and for a few tense minutes, when the flame was almost on top of them, it looked as though they would have to. But the leg came free at last, and they carried her to safety.\n\nThe fire burned on through the night, and would be still blazing when morning came. In little towns miles away downriver and on the other side of the mountains, people could see a strange, shimmering, blood-red glow in the sky.\n\nBut even for those who had somehow succeeded in getting to the high ground in time, even for those who were uninjured or were lucky enough to have a roof to sleep under, there was the indescribable agony of remembering what they had seen, and not knowing what had become of others. No one really knew for sure the extent of what had happened, but they knew it had been terrible beyond belief, and if the whereabouts of someone was not known, then only the worst could be imagined. All that could be done now was to wait for morning, and hope.\n\n## VI\n\n## A message from Mr. Pitcairn\n\nMr. Robert Pitcairn's private car had been attached to eastbound passenger train Number 18 shortly before noon that morning and rolled out of Pittsburgh's Union Station about an hour later. Mr. Pitcairn was on his way to Lilly to see how serious the storm damage was there, and to look things over at Johnstown and South Fork on the way.\n\nMessages about trouble along the line had been coming in to his office since early morning, including one about the dam. Pitcairn had read it and thought little more of it. First of all, he could not quite understand how Colonel Unger could be sending such warnings, since he knew perfectly well that Colonel Unger had no telegraph wire at the club and that the telephone line was not open yet. And secondly, as he would say later, he simply \"paid little attention to any reports about the South Fork dam, as they had been made perhaps nearly every year.\"\n\nWhen later messages came in from South Fork, from agent Dougherty and Pitcairn's old friend J. P. Wilson, Pitcairn was already on his way east.\n\nPitcairn's knowledge of the dam went back more than thirty years, to the time when the Pennsylvania had first bought it. His old boyhood friend Andy Carnegie had gotten him a job on the railroad, as a ticket agent at Cresson, not long before that. He and Carnegie had been telegraph operators together in Pittsburgh; then they went with the Pennsylvania. Later on, when Andy quit his job as head of the Pittsburgh Division to go into business for himself, Pitcairn had been named to replace him.\n\nBut his first real interest in the dam began when it broke in 1862 and wrecked a lot of railroad property in South Fork. Then nearly twenty years later, when the South Fork club finished its restoration and there was talk in the valley about leaks at the base of the dam, Pitcairn had gone up to see for himself, taking along several of his own people from South Fork. They had given the dam what he felt was a thorough enough going-over. Benjamin Ruff had walked with them, saying that what everyone called leaks were actually springs that came from near the ends of the dam. Ruff also promised that he would strengthen things some, and then they all shook hands and went home.\n\n\"The only point we were afraid of,\" Pitcairn said later, \"was the leaks at the bottom of the dam increasing.\" And he was evidently afraid (or cautious) enough to ask Wilson and others in the area to keep an eye out for him. Whether his subsequent membership in the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club was, even in part, his way of keeping his own eye out, is not known. Though it seems highly doubtful, since, unlike Daniel J. Morrell, he had every sort of social and business reason for wishing to be there.\n\nNow his train headed out of Pittsburgh along the muddy Monongahela, past the towering black Edgar Thomson works at Braddock, where the British general by the same name had suffered his famous defeat; then on through one little town after another, East McKeesport, Irwin, Jeannette, Greensburg, and out into open hill country. He had been over the route maybe a thousand times during his years with the railroad. He knew every bend, bridge, siding, every water tower, coal tipple, every depot, every barn and farmhouse along the horizon. He could not claim to know all the men, that would be impossible, but he knew the good part of them, and certainly every last one of them knew him. He was their supreme commander. His word was law from Altoona to Pittsburgh, and the portly frame, the bullet head, the pince-nez glasses and walrus mustache were far better-known among them than the rather inconspicuous features of the man who was then President of the United States. And if it were a question as to which one wielded the most authority, there would have been some debate.\n\nMen who had been with the Pennsylvania for a dozen years or more still talked about Pitcairn during the \"Great Strike\" of '77. A lot of them felt that he had been the chief cause for what happened in Pittsburgh. The strike had begun on the B & O in Baltimore and had been spreading fast. Times were hard, and wages had been cut. But Pitcairn had chosen that particular moment to institute new practices on the division which would have meant increased work loads and even more layoffs. \"The men were always complaining about something,\" he would say later. When it was all over, a pitched battle had been fought between militia and a mob of strikers and unemployed, a good part of downtown Pittsburgh had been burned to the ground, and fifty-seven people had been killed. The men had gone back to work, having gained nothing. And Robert Pitcairn's hold on them was stronger than ever.\n\nHe liked to say that the railroads (by which he really meant his railroad) were \"the heart, blood, veins, and arteries of Pittsburgh,\" which, of course, put him in a most important position indeed.\n\nPitcairn was in his mid-fifties. He was an elder of the fashionable new Shady Side Presbyterian Church and a man of considerable financial means. For aside from his earnings on the railroad, he had also managed to put together a good-sized fortune on the side, largely by backing his inventive friend George Westinghouse. Slabtown and the squalid back streets where he and Carnegie and Phipps had grown up were far, far behind him now.\n\nSitting in the upholstered splendor of his private car, he looked appropriately substantial, and quite tired. He had been up late the night before at the telegraph instrument in his home making inquiries about the weather between Pittsburgh and Altoona. Then he had gone off to town earlier than usual that morning, and with the news of the storm growing worse every hour, it had been a difficult day ever since. But now, watching the landscape sweep past his window, he began to realize just how serious things were.\n\nThe rain was coming down in wild, silvery sheets. The whole countryside was awash. Hillsides were mortally veined with angry little creeks. Fields were covered with water that looked to be a foot deep or more. At Latrobe, at the foot of Chestnut Ridge, the Loyalhanna was twice its normal size and well over its banks. Ten miles farther, he saw the Conemaugh for the first time and knew he was up against something unlike anything he had ever experienced. His train was moving very slowly by this time, following the course of the river where it cut through the ridge. On the other side of the ridge, at the village of Bolivar, people were out along the riverbanks watching the torrent rush by. At New Florence the water had spilled through the lowlands, flooding miles of woods and meadows. Pitcairn thought he could actually see the water rising, it was coming up so fast.\n\nAfter New Florence the train pulled through little Nineveh, where men and boys in gum coats, their collars turned up against the biting wind, their hats dripping with rain, stood beside the track watching the cars clack by.\n\nThen the train started into the breath-takingly beautiful Conemaugh Gap, or Packsaddle, the one pass through Laurel Hill to Johnstown. The railroad ran well above the river here, even with the river in its present condition, but above the tracks the mountainside loomed up another 1,500 feet.\n\nSeveral miles farther on in the gorge, at a place called Sang Hollow, about four miles from Johnstown, they stopped. The time by now was about five after four.\n\nPitcairn climbed down from his car and went up to the tower to find out what the trouble was. The operator told him the lines east had gone dead; they tried again several times to get Johnstown, but it was no use. The operator said he could not let them through without clearance, which, according to the rules, was exactly what he was meant to say, even to Pitcairn.\n\n\"I was about making up my mind to proceed cautiously, running carefully, to find the trouble,\" Pitcairn said later, \"when looking east, I saw some debris. The water before this had been muddy, but very little drift. The debris attracted my attention from its singular appearance, being broken up wood entirely, and in very small pieces. In a short time, the telegraph poles commenced to break down, and threatened to take the tower down with it.\"\n\nThen they saw a man coming down the river on some debris, moving very fast. Pitcairn thought the water must have been going by at about fifteen miles an hour. They saw more people coming, hanging on to telegraph poles or what appeared to be parts of buildings or just being swept along and trying desperately and futilely to swim. Pitcairn and the others rushed out to do what they could to save them, but the river carried them off and out of sight.\n\n\"I returned to the telegraph office to see what word I could get, when the people came down by the scores; the water rising very rapidly, and men, women, and children on the drift, and we perfectly helpless.\"\n\nBy this time most of the male passengers on board the train were out on the riverbanks doing everything possible to help. They got hold of long poles and big limbs and held them out over the current as far as they could, hoping maybe the people going by could reach them. They threw ropes, and at one point, one of them actually stripped off his coat and jumped into the water to save a mother and her small child.\n\nHe was a rugged, seventeen-year-old Pittsburgh boy named Bill Heppenstall, who was on his way back to school at Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, after being home ill. A small house had lodged momentarily in some overhanging trees. The men heard a baby crying, but the house was too far out to reach. Heppenstall decided he would go in and get the child. The others tried to talk him out of it, but he got the bell cord out of one of the cars, tied it around him, and swam out to the house. In no time he was back with the child. There were great cheers from the crowd. But he then told them the mother was still back there and started into the water again, this time taking a railroad tie along with him to help hold her up. Just as he got her to shore the house tore loose from the trees and went spinning off downstream.\n\nBy the time it began getting dark, the operator at Sang Hollow had counted 119 people going by, dead and alive. Despite everything they had tried, the men on the riverbank had been able to rescue only seven.\n\nAbout six o'clock Pitcairn ordered the train back down to New Florence. The water was still high, but it did not seem to be getting any higher. He had decided to take the passengers back to Pittsburgh, giving them the option to stop off at New Florence if there were any accommodations to be had.\n\nBut before leaving, Pitcairn got off a message to Pittsburgh. It was directed to the editors of the morning papers, and its exact wording remains unclear. But sometime between five thirty and six the news was out and on the wire. A dam had failed at South Fork and caused a disastrous flood at Johnstown. By then Pitcairn had faced up to the awful realization of what had gone wrong.\n\nHis train rolled ever so slowly back through the gorge, reaching New Florence by perhaps six thirty. The first thing he did there was to write out a still longer and more detailed message, which he then put aside, in the hope that some further word might come in from Johnstown itself. So for the next several hours they sat and waited. The rain hammered down outside; men kept coming in and out talking of more bodies found or the few half-drowned souls they had been able to drag ashore.\n\nThe village sat well back from the river, on high, dry ground. Only a few houses near the river were under water, and few citizens were suffering any serious discomforts. As a result the streets were filled with people going to and from the river, standing in doorways, talking to passengers from Pitcairn's train, or gathered in groups looking at the dull, red glow in the sky to the east.\n\nAbout ten o'clock Pitcairn received word from Johnstown by way of Sang Hollow. One of his men in Johnstown, a W. N. Hays, had managed to get from Johnstown to Sang Hollow on foot. Apparently he had been on the hillside above the west end of the bridge and was able to make his way down the tracks above the rampaging river. Once he reached Sang Hollow, the message was put on the wire to New Florence.\n\nPitcairn was told how things were at Johnstown, and he then sent a second message to Pittsburgh, which would be quoted in the papers there at some length. He reported the number of bodies that had been counted going by at Sang Hollow. He said there was no way clear to Johnstown, but that his information was that the city was \"literally wiped out.\" He said that the debris at the stone bridge was reported to be forty feet high and that it was burning.\n\nThen he said, \"I fear there will be terrible suffering among those saved which should be relieved as soon as possible. In the interest of humanity I think a public meeting should be called early tomorrow to send food, clothing, etc. to those poor people which we will be glad to forward to Johnstown . . . as soon as we can get a clear track there.\"\n\nThis message, like the one before it, went right on the wire. Before midnight the story was across the country:\n\nPittsburgh, Penn. May 31\u2014A rumor, loaded with horror, holds this city in dreadful expectancy tonight. It is said that the bursting of a reservoir, just above Johnstown, a flourishing place in Cambria County, had flooded the town and swept at least 200 of her citizens to death. The news is of a very uncertain character, there being no communication with the district were the flood is reported to have occurred, all the wires being down . . . There is no way to get to the scene of the disaster and full particulars are not expected tonight.\n\nBut the fact was that the rush to Johnstown had already begun hours before. Two trains had been chartered by five Pittsburgh newspapers, and the first of them, the one with the Dispatch and Times men on board, started out from Union Station a few minutes after seven. The second, chartered by the Post, the Commercial-Gazette, and the Chronicle-Telegraph, followed almost immediately after. In New York, Philadelphia, Boston, in Chicago, Cleveland, and St. Louis, reporters picked up their hats and coats and went directly to the nearest depot, taking no time to pack or anything else. Some of them were still in evening clothes after a night at the theater.\n\nThe trains from Pittsburgh got no farther than Bolivar, where the men piled out into the rain and moved among the crowds gathered at the station and along the dark edge of the river. They picked up stories of the bodies and wreckage that had been washing past, about the few rescues that had been made, and the horrid things people had seen happen.\n\nNot long before dark a man and two women had been seen rounding the bend upstream. They were on a raft of some sort, a barn roof most people thought it was, and they were coming on fast, the women down on their knees, the man with his arms around them and looking about for something to grab on to. That had been before the bridges went, and the men on the bridges had been hanging ropes down for the people in the river to get hold of. When the raft shot by under the first bridge, the man reached out for the rope but missed. Then he and the two women were heading for the second bridge, and everyone along the shore line was rooting for them as they watched him telling the women to try for the next rope. As they came under the second bridge, he made a lunge for the rope, got it, and was jerked violently off balance; but seeing that the women had missed, he let go and fell back down on the raft again. The current then swept them toward the bank, where he was able to catch hold of a tree. With an immense effort he managed to pull the two women into the tree with him, but at almost the same instant a large section of the bridge upstream let go with a sudden crash. It came careening down the river, smashed into the tree, carried it away, and drowned the man and the two women.\n\nEveryone in Bolivar had seen the whole thing and they wanted to tell exactly how it happened. Some people in the crowd said they knew the man and said his name was Young. Others said they thought the women looked like mother and daughter, and that they could be heard praying as they went by. The newspapermen wrote it all down, asking questions, taking names.\n\nIt was too dark to see much by the river, but the rush of the water could still be heard plain enough, and tiny, dim specks of light could be seen moving through the trees along the shore where men with lanterns were still watching for possible signs of life.\n\nJohnstown was still twenty miles away. Among the newspapermen there was talk about what to do next. The tracks from Bolivar on were under water and not safe enough to take the train any farther. Most of the men decided to push on in the direction of New Florence, some by foot and some in wagons. The ride up from Pittsburgh had taken quite a long while, with conditions what they were. It was ten thirty when they had pulled into Bolivar. By the time they had slogged through the rain and dark to New Florence, it was getting on toward three in the morning.\n\nMud-spattered, dead-tired, cold, wringing-wet, they moved into whatever dry space there was left in the little town and began interviewing everyone who was willing to talk, which was just about everyone. Several of them got hold of wires to Pittsburgh and started filing their stories.\n\nAt that point about all they could say was that every sign was that \"hundreds if not thousands\" of people had been killed in \"an appalling catastrophe.\" They reported rumors of panic-stricken people fleeing through the woods from the scene of the disaster and of the number of people who had been seen going by in the river at New Florence (counts varied, but eighty-five seems about average). And they sent back what information they could pick up concerning the dam, a good deal of which was inaccurate. Several reporters had the dam 110 feet high and the lake as much as eight miles long and three miles wide. But they did have the name of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club by then, reported it accurately, and added that the Pennsylvania Railroad's engineers had inspected the dam once a month, which suggests that Pitcairn was also, by then, doing some talking himself. \"Investigations showed that nothing less than some convulsion of nature would tear the the barrier away and loosen the weapon of death,\" one reporter put on the wire.\n\nAbout four o'clock there was great excitement when a man from Johnstown, a carpenter named McCartney, and his wife came staggering out of the night. He said they had left Johnstown right after the flood struck and had been walking ever since. He told them there was hardly a building left standing in Johnstown, and, in general, substantiated the wildest of the rumors that had been circulating since the night began.\n\nSometime soon after four Pitcairn decided that there was no use staying in New Florence any longer. He boarded his private car, and with the passengers back on board again, his train started for Pittsburgh. It was also about the same time that several of the newspapermen decided that if the McCartneys could make it across the mountain on foot, they could too, and they set off through the woods. With luck, they figured, they could be on the hill above the city by daybreak.\n\n## VII\n\n## In the valley of death\n\nIt was nearly morning when the strange quiet began. Until then there had been almost no letup from the hideous sounds from below. Few people had been able to sleep, and several of the war veterans were saying it was the worst night they had ever been through.\n\nBut in the last chill hour before light, the valley seemed to hang suspended in an unearthly stillness, almost as unnerving in its way as everything else that had happened. And it was then, for the first time, that people began to realize that all those harsh, incessant noises which had been such a part of their lives\u2014mill whistles screeching, wagons clattering over cobblestones, coal trains rumbling past day and night\u2014had stopped, absolutely, every one of them.\n\nAbout five the first dim shapes began emerging from the darkness. But even by six very little stood out in detail. There were no shadows, no clear edges to anything. Some survivors, years later, would swear it had been a bright, warm morning, with a spotless blue sky, which, after the night they had been through, it may well have seemed. But the fact is that though the rain had at last stopped, the weather on that morning of June 1 was nearly as foul as it had been the morning before. The valley looked smothered in a smoky gray film. The hills appeared to be made of some kind of soft, gray-green stuff and were just barely distinguishable from a damp, low sky that was the color of pewter. Odd patches of the valley were completely lost in low-hanging ribbons of mist, and the over-all visibility was reduced to perhaps a mile at best.\n\nStill the view that morning would be etched sharply in the memories of everyone who took it in. Along the Frankstown Road on Green Hill some 3,000 people had gathered. On the rim of Prospect Hill and on the slopes above Kernville, Woodvale, and Cambria City the crowds were nearly as big. Chilled to the bone, hungry, many of them badly injured, hundreds without shoes or only partly clothed against the biting air, they huddled under dripping trees or stood along narrow footpaths ankle-deep in mud, straining their eyes to see and trying hard to understand.\n\nSpread out below them was a vast sea of muck and rubble and filthy water. Nearly all of Johnstown had been destroyed. That it was even the same place was very difficult to comprehend.\n\nThere were still a few buildings standing where they had been. The Methodist Church and the B & O station, the schoolhouse on Adams Street, Alma Hall, and the Union Street School could be seen plain enough, right where they were meant to be. The Iron Company's red-brick offices were still standing, as was Wood, Morrell & Company next door. But everywhere else there seemed nothing but bewildering desolation. The only immediately familiar parts of the landscape were the two rivers churning toward the stone bridge, both still swollen and full of debris.\n\nFrom Woodvale to the bridge ran an unbroken swath of destruction that was a quarter of a mile wide in places and a good two miles long. From Locust Street over to the Little Conemaugh was open space now, an empty tract of mud, rock, and scattered wreckage, where before saloons, stores, hotels, and houses had been as thick as it had been possible to build them. Washington Street was gone except for the B & O station. Along Main, where a cluster of buildings and gutted houses still stood like a small, ravaged island, the wreckage was piled as high as the roofs of the houses.\n\nAt the eastern end of town all that remained between Jackson and Clinton was a piece of St. John's Convent. At the corner of Jackson and Locust the blackened rafters of St. John's Church were still smoking, and where the Quinn house had stood, fifty feet away, there was now only a jumble of rubbish.\n\nAcross the Stony Creek, Kernville had been swept clean for blocks. Virtually everything was gone, as though that whole section had been hosed down to the raw earth. The entire western end of town, near the Point, was now a broad, flooded wasteland. Every bridge was gone except the stone bridge and against it now lay a good part of what had been Johnstown in a gigantic blazing heap.\n\nBelow the stone bridge the ironworks, though still standing, looked all askew, with stacks toppled over and one of the biggest buildings caved in at the end as though it had been tramped on by an immense heel. Cambria City had been ravaged past recognition. At least two-thirds of the houses had been wiped out, and down the entire length of its main street a tremendous pile of mud and rock had been dumped.\n\nWith the light the first small groups of people who had survived the night down in the drowned city could be seen making their way across the debris, most of them heading for Green Hill, where dry ground could be reached without having to cross a river. From Alma Hall and the Union Street School they came in steady little batches, moving up and down over the incredible flotsam. Then, at the same time from Frankstown Road and other near hills, men started moving down into town. And as they came closer, the dim sweep of destruction began to take on a different look. Slowly things came into ever sharper focus.\n\nThe Morrell house could be seen with part of its side sheared off. Dr. Lowman's house stood alone on the park, the only big house still there, but its two-story front porch had been squashed and every window punched in. Colonel Linton's place on lower Main looked as though it had been blasted in two by dynamite, and the black span of an iron bridge was resting where the yard had been. Beyond, houses were dumped every which way, crushed, broken, split clean in half, or lying belly up in the mire, with their floor beams showing like the ribs of butchered animals.\n\nTelephone poles, giant chunks of machinery, trees with all their bark shredded off, dead horses and pieces of dead horses, and countless human corpses were strewn everywhere. \"Hands of the dead stuck out of the ruins. Dead everywhere you went, their arms stretched above their heads almost without exception\u2014the last instinct of expiring humanity grasping at a straw,\" wrote George Gibbs, one of the reporters from the Tribune.\n\nAnd now, too, all the litter of thousands of lives could be seen in sharp detail. Shattered tables and chairs, tools, toys, account books, broken dishes, chamber pots and bicycle wheels, nail kegs, bedquilts, millions of planks and shingles were thrown up in grotesque heaps ten, twenty, thirty feet high, or lay gently shifting back and forth in huge pools of water that covered much of the valley floor like a brown soup.\n\n\"It were vain to undertake to tell the world how or what we felt, when shoeless, hatless, and many of us almost naked, some bruised and broken, we stood there and looked upon that scene of death and desolation,\" David Beale wrote.\n\nThe flood and the night that had followed, for all their terror and destruction and suffering, had had a certain terrible majesty. Many people had thought it was Judgment Day, God's time of anger come at last, the Day of Reckoning. They thought that the whole world was being destroyed and not just Johnstown. It had been the \"horrible tempest,\" with flood and fire \"come as a destruction from the Almighty.\" It had been awful, but it had been God Awful.\n\nThis that lay before them now in the dismal cold was just ugly and sordid and heartbreaking; and already it was beginning to smell.\n\nRescue parties got to work bringing the marooned down from rooftops and went searching among the wreckage for signs of life. Men scrambled over piles of debris to get to the upstairs windows of buildings that looked as though they might fall in at any minute. They crawled across slippery, cockeyed roofs to squeeze through attic windows or groped their way down dripping back hallways where the mud was over their boot tops. It was treacherous work and slow going. Walls were still falling in and fires were breaking out.\n\nAt the stone bridge, gangs of men and boys, many of whom had been there through the night, were still working to free people trapped alive within the burning pile. Young Victor Heiser, who had succeeded in reaching solid ground after his night in a Kernville attic, had made his way down the west bank of the Stony Creek as far as the bridge, where, as he wrote later, \"I joined the rescue squads, and we struggled for hours trying to release them from this funeral pyre, but our efforts were tragically hampered by the lack of axes and other tools. We could not save them all. It was horrible to watch helplessly while people, many of whom I actually knew, were being devoured in the holocaust.\"\n\nAcross the whole of the valley the dead were being found in increasing numbers. And as the morning passed, more and more people came down from the hillsides to look at the bodies, to search for missing husbands and children, or just to get their bearings, if possible. They slogged through the mud, asking after a six-year-old boy \"about so high,\" or a wife or a father. They picked their way through mountains of rubbish, trying to find a recognizable landmark to tell them where their house or store had been, or even a suggestion of the street where they had lived. Or they stood silently staring about, a numb, blank look on their faces. Over and over, later, when the day had passed, people would talk about how expressionless everyone had looked and how there had been so few people crying.\n\nThere was some shouting back and forth among the men. People who had been separated during the night would suddenly find one another. \"What strange meetings there were,\" wrote one man. \"People who had hardly known each other before the flood embraced one another, while those who found relations rushed into each other's arms and cried for very gladness that they were alive. All ordinary rules of decorum and differences of religion, politics and position were forgotten.\"\n\nLone stragglers went poking about looking for only they knew what, many of them strangely clad in whatever odd bits of clothing they had been able to lay hands on. One man, hatless and with a woman's red shawl across his shoulders, came limping along in his stocking feet, using a piece of lath for a cane. He was looking for his wife, Mrs. Brinker, who, as he would soon discover, had survived the night inside the Methodist parsonage and who had long since given him up for dead.\n\nPeople recovered some pathetic belonging or other and carried it carefully back to high ground or began building little personal piles of salvage. There was no order to what went on, no organization, and not much sense. Most people were unable even to look after themselves; they were stunned, confused, trying, as much as anything, to grasp what had happened and what was left of their lives. Where they went from there was something they were not yet ready to think about. Many of them struck off into the country, with no special destination. They just kept walking for hours, looking for food or a dry place to lie down for the night, or, very often, just trying to put as many miles as possible between themselves and the devastated city. They were afraid of the place and wanted no more part of it.\n\nThe problems to be faced immediately were enormous and critical. People were ravenously hungry, most everyone having gone twenty-four hours or more without anything to eat, and now there was virtually no food anywhere. The few provisions uncovered among the ruins were nearly all unfit for eating, and what little else people had was given to the injured and to the children. Moreover, there was no water that anyone felt was safe to drink. Thousands were homeless, hundreds were severely injured. Mrs. John Geis, for example, little Gertrude Quinn's grandmother, had had her scalp torn off from her forehead back to the nape of her neck. Hundreds of others were dazed by lack of sleep or in a state of shock. Dozens of people, as a result of exposure, were already in the early stages of pneumonia. There was almost no dry clothing to be had and no medicines.\n\nPeople had no money, except what change they may have had in their pockets at the time the water struck, and even if they did, there were no stores left at which to buy anything. There was no gas or electric light. Fires were burning in a dozen different places, and no one knew when a gas main might explode. Every telegraph and telephone line to the outside world was down. Bridges were gone, roads impassable. The railroad had been destroyed. And with the dead lying about everywhere, plus hundreds of carcasses of drowned horses, cows, pigs, dogs, cats, birds, rats, the threat of a violent epidemic was very serious indeed.\n\nBut by noon things had begun to happen, if only in a small way. Rafts had been built to cross the rivers and to get over to those buildings still surrounded by water. People on the hillsides whose houses had escaped harm and farmers from miles out in the country began coming into town bringing food, water, and clothing. At the corner of Adams and Main milk was passed out in big tinfuls. Unclaimed children were looked after. A rope bridge had been strung across the Little Conemaugh near the depot, and, most important of all as it would turn out, up at the Haws Cement Works, on the hill at the western end of the stone bridge, several bedraggled-looking newspaper correspondents had established headquarters in a coal shed and were in the process of rigging their own wire down the river to Sang Hollow.\n\nThe men had reached Johnstown about seven in the morning, and like everyone else were cold, dirty, hollow-eyed from no sleep. There remains some question as to which of them arrived first, but William Connelly, who was the Associated Press correspondent in western Pennsylvania, Harry Orr, a telegraph operator for the A.P., and Claude Wetmore, a free-lance reporter working for the New York World, are generally given the credit. Others kept straggling in from New Florence through the rest of the day. But until nightfall the major stories were still being filed out of the little railroad crossing on the other side of Laurel Hill.\n\nNew Florence, Pa. June 1 . . . Seven bodies have been found on the shore near this town, two being on a tree where the tide had carried them. The country people are coming into the news centers in large numbers, telling stories of disaster along the river banks in sequestered places . . . The body of another woman has just been discovered in the river here. Only her foot was above the water. A rope was fastened about it and tied to a tree . . . R. B. Rogers, Justice of the Peace at Nineveh, has wired the Coroner at Greensburg that 100 bodies have been found at that place, and he asks what to do with them.\n\nThat afternoon, at three, a meeting was called in Johnstown to decide what ought to be done there. Every able-bodied man who could be rounded up crowded into the Adams Street schoolhouse. The first step, it was quickly agreed, was to elect a \"dictator.\" John Fulton was the obvious choice, but he was nowhere to be found, so it was assumed he was dead, which he was not. He had left town some days earlier and was at that moment, like hundreds of others, trying desperately to get to Johnstown.\n\nThe second choice was Arthur J. Moxham, a remarkable young Welshman who had moved to Johnstown a few years before to start a new business making steel rails for trolley-car lines. In the short time he had been there Moxham had about convinced everyone that he was the best newcomer to arrive in the valley since D. J. Morrell. His business had prospered rapidly, and it was earlier that spring that he had opened a sprawling new complex of mills up the Stony Creek beside the new town he had developed. He named the business the Johnson Steel Street Rail Company, after his lively young partner, Tom L. Johnson, who, in turn, had named the town Moxham. They paid their men regularly each week, in cash, and did not maintain a company store\u2014all of which had had a marked impact on the town's economic well-being and a good deal to do with their own popularity.\n\nBoth men were energetic, able executives. Both were already wealthy, and both, interestingly enough, were devout followers of the great economic reformer of the time, Henry George, and were equally well known in Johnstown for their impassioned oratory on George's single-tax scheme.\n\nMoxham was a fortunate choice. He took charge immediately and organized citizens' committees to look after the most pressing and obvious problems. Morgues were to be established under the direction of the Reverends Beale and Chapman. Charles Zimmerman and Tom Johnson were put in charge of removing dead animals and wreckage. (That anyone could have even considered cleaning up the mess at that point is extraordinary, but apparently the work began right away, against all odds, against all reason. Trying to bail the rivers dry with buckets would have seemed not much more futile.)\n\nDr. Lowman and Dr. Matthews were responsible for establishing temporary hospitals. Captain Hart was to organize a police force. There was a committee for supplies and one for finance, to which George Swank and Cyrus Elder were assigned.\n\nCaptain Hart deputized some seventy-five men, most of whom were employees of the Johnson Company sent down from Moxham. They cut tin stars from tomato cans found in the wreckage, threw a cordon around the First National and Dibert banks, and, according to a report made days later, recovered some $6,000 in cash from trunks, valises, and bureau drawers lying about.\n\nAs dusk gathered, the search for the living as well as the dead went on in earnest. There seemed to be no one who was not missing some member of his family. James Quinn had already found little Gertrude, but he was still looking for his son Vincent, his sister-in-law and her infant son, and Libby Hipp, the nursegirl, though he had little hope of finding any of them except his son. That Gertrude was alive seemed almost beyond belief.\n\nHe and his other daughters had been luckier than most and had spent the night in a house on Green Hill. At daybreak he had been outside washing his face in a basin when his sister, Barbara Foster, came running up shouting that she had found Gertrude. She had seen her on the porch of the Metz house, still speechless with fright, still unidentified, and almost unrecognizable with her blonde hair tangled and matted with mud, her dark eyes quick with terror. Quinn at first found it impossible to accept what he heard, but started off at a run, the lather still on his face, and the other little girls running behind.\n\n\"When he came near the house,\" Gertrude wrote later, \"I saw him and recognized him at once. I fairly flew down the steps. Just as he put his foot on the first step, I landed on his knee and put both my arms around his neck while he embraced me.\"\n\nQuinn gathered up the child. They both began crying. A small crowd had assembled by now, on the porch and on the street below, and the scene caused several people to break down for perhaps the first time. Then there was a lot of handshaking and Quinn set off with his children to find his son.\n\nVictor Heiser had spent most of the day searching for his mother and father, hoping against hope that somehow they had come through it all alive and in one piece. His own survival seemed such a miracle to him that he could not help feeling there was a chance they might be somewhere in the oncoming darkness looking for him.\n\nAt the bridge late in the afternoon an old man and his daughter were rescued from a house wedged among the burning wreckage. The old man made quite a reputation for himself when, on being helped down into a rowboat, he asked his rescuers, \"Which one of you gentlemen would be good enough to give me a chew of tobacco?\" And on the hillside a few hundred yards away two young ladies who had been stripped naked by the flood were found cowering in the bushes, where they had been hiding through the long day, too ashamed to venture out before dark.\n\nCyrus Elder's wife and daughter were missing. Horace Rose did not learn until late in the afternoon that the two sons, Winter and Percy, from whom he had been separated during the flood were still alive, and that he was the only member of his large family who had even been injured.\n\nHis neighbor John Dibert had already been identified among the dead, as had Mrs. Fronheiser, whom Rose had last seen in her window next door. The bodies of Samuel Eldridge, one of the best-known policemen in town, and Elizabeth Bryan of Philadelphia, who had been on the Day Express, had also been found. But of the other dead found only a small number had as yet been identified for sure.\n\nAt the Adams Street schoolhouse and a saloon in Morrellville, where the first two emergency morgues had been opened, the bodies were piling up faster than they could be properly handled. They came in on planks, doors, anything that would serve as a stretcher, and with no wagons or horses as yet on hand, the work of carrying them through the mud and water was terribly difficult.\n\nEach body was cleaned up as much as was possible, and any valuables found were put aside for safekeeping. Those in charge tried hard to maintain order, but people kept pushing in and out to look, and the confusion was terrific.\n\n\"We had no record books,\" David Beale wrote, \"not even paper, on which to make our records, and had to use with great economy that which we gathered amid the debris or happened to have in our pockets.\"\n\nOne way or other the bodies were numbered and identified, whenever that was possible. Many were in ghastly condition, stripped of their clothes, badly cut, limbs torn off, battered, bloated, some already turning black. Others looked as though they had suffered hardly at all and, except for their wet, filthy clothes, appeared very much at peace.\n\nA Harrisburg newspaperman named J. J. MacLaurin, who had been near Johnstown at the time the flood struck, described a visit to the Adams Street School early Saturday afternoon, where he counted fifty-three bodies stretched on boards along the tops of the desks. \"Next to the entrance lay, in her damp clothing, the waiter-girl who had served my last dinner at the Hulbert House, with another of the dining room girls by her side.\"\n\nHow many dead there were in all no one had any way of knowing, since there was, as yet, almost no communication between various parts of town. But wild estimates were everywhere by nightfall, and with more bodies being discovered wherever the wreckage had been pulled apart, it was generally agreed that the final count would run far into the thousands. Some were saying it would be as much as 10,000 by the time the losses were added up from South Fork to Johnstown, and few people found that at all hard to believe. What may have happened on down the river at Nineveh or New Florence or Bolivar was anyone's guess.\n\nWithin another day the Pennsylvania station and the Presbyterian Church, a soap factory, a house in Kernville, the Millville School, and the Catholic Church in Cambria City would be converted into emergency morgues. But it would be a week before things got down to a system at these places, and not for months would there be a realistic count of the dead. Actually, there never would be an exact, final count, though it is certain that well over 2,000 people were killed, and 2,209 is generally accepted as the official total.\n\nHundreds of people who were lost would never be found. One out of every three bodies that was found would never be identified beyond what was put down in the morgue records. With all the anguish and turmoil of the first few days, such entries were at best a line or two.\n\n. . .11. | Unknown.\n\n---|---\n\n|\n\nA female. \"FL.F.\" on envelope.\n\n. . .17. | Unknown.\n\n|\n\nA man about fifty years of age. Short hair, smooth face.\n\n. . .25. | Unknown.\n\n|\n\nFemale. Light hair. About fifteen years.\n\nLater, more care would be taken to be as explicit as possible.\n\n. . .181. | Unknown.\n\n---|---\n\n|\n\nFemale. Age forty-five. Height 5 feet 6 inches. Weight 100. White. Very long black hair, mixed with grey. White handkerchief with red border. Black striped waist. Black dress. Plain gold ring on third finger of left hand. Red flannel underwear. Black stockings. Five pennies in purse. Bunch of keys.\n\n. . .182. | Unknown.\n\n|\n\nMale. Age five years. Sandy hair. Checkered waist. Ribbed knee pants. Red undershirt. Black stockings darned in both heels.\n\n. . .204. | Unknown.\n\n|\n\nMale. Age fifty. Weight 160. Height 5 feet 9 inches. Sandy hair. Plain ring on third finger of left hand (with initials inside \"C.R. 1869.\") Pair blood stone cuff-buttons. Black alpaca coat. Navy blue vest and pants. Congress gaiters. Red stockings. Pocketbook. Knife and pencil. $13.30 in change. Open-faced silver watch. Heavy plaited chain and locket. Inside of locket a star with S.H., words trade-mark alone a star. Chain trinket with Washington head. Reverse the Lord's prayer. Odd Fellow's badge on pin.\n\nIn all, 663 bodies would be listed as unknown. A few were not identifiable because they had been decapitated. Close to a hundred had been burned beyond recognition, and some so badly that it was impossible even to tell what sex they had been. And many of the bodies found in late June or on into the summer and fall would be so decomposed as to be totally unrecognizable.\n\nPart of the problem, too, was the fact that on the afternoon of May 31 Johnstown had had its usual share of strangers in town, nameless faces even when they had been alive, foreigners who had been living there only a short time, tramps, traveling men new to the territory, passengers on board any one of the several trains stalled along the line, countrypeople who had decided to stay over after Memorial Day. They made up a good part of the unknown dead, and doubtless many of them were among those who were never found at all.\n\nAmong the known dead were such very well-known figures as Dr. John Lee; Theodore Zimmerman, the lawyer; Squire Fisher, the Justice of the Peace, and his entire family; C. T. Schubert, editor of the German newspaper; and Ben Hoffman, the hackman, who, according to one account, \"always got you to the depot in plenty of time\" and whose voice was \"as familiar as train whistle, iron works, or the clock bells.\" (Hoffman had gone upstairs to take a nap shortly before the flood struck and was found with his socks in his pockets.)\n\nThe Reverend Alonzo Diller, the new rector of St. Mark's Episcopal Church, was dead, along with his wife and child. George Wagoner, who was a dentist as well as a part-time preacher, and so one of the best-known men in town, was dead, as were his wife and three daughters. Emil Young, the jeweler, was dead; Sam Lenhart, the harness dealer, was dead; Henry Goldenberg, the clothier, Arthur Benshoff, the bookseller, Christian Kempel, the undertaker, were all dead. Mrs. Hirst, the librarian, lay crushed beneath a heap of bricks, slate, and books that stood where the public library had been.\n\nVincent Quinn was dead, as were Abbie Geis, her child, and Libby Hipp. Mrs. Cyrus Elder and her daughter Nan, Hettie Ogle and her daughter Minnie were dead, and their bodies would never be identified. George and Mathilde Heiser were dead.\n\nNinety-nine whole families had been wiped out. Three hundred and ninety-six children aged ten years or less had been killed. Ninety-eight children lost both parents. One hundred and twenty-four women were left widows; 198 men lost their wives.\n\nOne woman, Mrs. John Fenn, wife of the tinsmith on Locust Street, lost her husband and seven children. Christ Fitzharris, the saloonkeeper, his wife, father, and eight children were all drowned. Charles Murr and six of his children went down with his cigar store on Washington Street; only his wife and one child survived. In a house owned by John Ryan on Washington Street, twenty-one people drowned, including a man named Gottfried Hoffman, his wife and nine children.\n\nAt \"Morgue A,\" the Adams Street schoolhouse, 301 bodies would be recorded in the logbooks. At the Presbyterian Church, which was \"Morgue B,\" there would be 92; at \"Morgue C,\" in the Millville schoolhouse, the total would come to 551 by the time the last entry was made (\"Unknown\") on December 3. And along with the prominent merchants and doctors, the lawyers and preachers, there were hundreds of people with names like Allison, Burns, Evans, Shumaker, Llewellyn, and Hesselbein, Berkebile, Mayhew, McHugh, Miller, Lambreski, Rosensteel, Brown, Smith, and Jones. They made up most of the lists, and in the town directory that was to have been published that June they were entered as schoolteacher, porter, or drayman, clerk, miner, molder, barber, sawyer, dressmaker, or domestic. Dozens of them were listed as steelworker, or simply as laborer, and quite often as widow.\n\nIn that part of the valley through which the flood had passed, the population on the afternoon of the 31st had been approximately 23,000 people, which means that the flood killed just about one person out of every ten. In Johnstown proper, it killed about one out of nine.\n\nBut there were no statistics for anyone to go on that Saturday night. It would be weeks before even a reasonably accurate estimate would be made on the death toll. The business of finding the dead just went very slowly. Young Vincent Quinn's body, for example, was not uncovered until June 7, buried beneath the wreckage in Jacob Zimmerman's yard. Victor Heiser's mother was found about the same time, her clothing still much intact, her body scarcely marked in any way; but the search for George Heiser went on for weeks after, and his body never was identified for certain. Toward the end of June a body was found which Victor was told was his father, but it was by then in such dreadful condition that he was not permitted to look at it.\n\nIn July there would be many days when ten to fifteen corpses would be uncovered. About thirty bodies would be found in August, including that of little Bessie Fronheiser; and so it would go on through the fall. In fact, for years to come bodies would keep turning up in and near the city. Two bodies would be found west of New Florence as late as 1906.\n\nBut by dark that Saturday only a small part of the dead had been accounted for, perhaps no more than 300 or 400, and only a very few had been buried. Most of the living found shelter well back from the city, on Prospect Hill or Green Hill, or on up the Stony Creek, where against the dark mountains tiny windows glowed like strings of orange lanterns. Or they walked to little towns like Brownstown, which was set in a high valley above Cambria City. Victor Heiser spent the next several nights there, along with more than 1,000 other refugees from the flood who were all housed, one way or other, by Brownstown's fifty-three resident families.\n\nHouses, barns, stables, schools, churches, every remaining upright structure for miles around was put into service. Crude tents were fashioned from blankets and bedspreads. Lean-tos were built of planks and doors dragged from the wreckage.\n\nOne man later described smelling the odor of ham frying as he walked along the front street on Prospect Hill, and how he was invited into a small house \"filled with a strangely composed company.\" There were two or three women who had been just recently rescued, and who were \"pitiably pale, and with eyes ghastly at the flood horror.\" There was the hostess, who carried an infant on one hip, \"a divine, a physician, a lawyer, two or three merchants,\" and several others. The dining room was too small to hold everyone, so they ate in shifts, waiting their turn out on the front porch. Below them, almost at their feet it seemed, lay the devastated valley.\n\nThe cold was nearly as cruel as it had been the night before. Pitch-blackness closed down over the mountainsides that crowded so close; but across the valley floor bonfires blazed, torches moved among the dark ruins, and the rivers and big pools of dead water were lighted by the fire that raged on at the stone bridge.\n\nAnd with the deep night, for nearly everyone, came dreadful fear. There was the rational and quite justifiable fear of typhoid fever and of famine. It was entirely possible that a worse catastrophe than the flood itself could sweep the valley in a matter of days if help did not get through.\n\nThere were also rumors of thieves prowling through the night and of gangs of toughs who had come into the valley looking for trouble. Great quantities of whiskey were supposedly being found among the ruins, and drunken brawls were breaking out. People were warned to be on the lookout, that there would be looting and rape before the night was over; and men who had not slept since Thursday night took turns standing guard through the night, watching over their families or what little they may have had left of any earthly value.\n\nPerhaps worst of all, however, was the wholly irrational fear of the very night itself and the nameless horrors it concealed. The valley was full of unburied dead; they were down there among the cold, vile remains of the city, waiting in the dark, and no one could get that idea out of his head for very long. If there were such a thing as ghosts, the night was full of them.\n\nBut despite it all, the hunger, the grief, the despair and fear, people gradually did what they had to; they slept. They put everything else out of their minds, for the moment, because they had to; and they slept.\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nSunday the weather eased off. It was still cold, but the sky had cleared some, and for the first time in days it looked as though there would be no rain.\n\nSunday they began taking bodies across the Little Conemaugh in skiffs and carrying them to a plot on Prospect Hill where shallow graves were dug in the gravelly soil and the bodies buried without ceremony. (George Spangler, who had been night watchman at the First National Bank, wrote in his diary, \"bisey holing the dead this day I hold 62 to the semitre.\") Sunday a post office was set up at the corner of Adams and Main, and a clearinghouse where everyone who was still alive was meant to come in and register his name and tell what he knew about the rest of his family. Sunday the first patients were cared for in a temporary hospital on Bedford Street. And on Sunday the first relief trains got through.\n\nA train from Somerset came in on the B & O tracks about daybreak. The other train, from Pittsburgh, had arrived at Sang Hollow about ten thirty Saturday night but had been unable to get any closer. From Sang Hollow to Johnstown there was practically nothing left of the old line. There were at least ten miles along the Pennsylvania where it was impossible to tell even where the tracks had been, and several of those ten miles could be accounted for between Sang Hollow and Johnstown.\n\nThe lonely little Sang Hollow depot had become the scene of great activity Saturday night, from about eleven on. Several boxcars had been unloaded and volunteers organized to start moving things upriver by hand. \"The men carried the provisions on their backs,\" one participant wrote, \"over landslides and the trackless roadbeds to points where handcars passed. All night long a procession of lights was moving to and fro from Sang Hollow to the stone bridge.\"\n\nBy morning nearly two carloads of supplies had been deposited at the western end of the bridge and work had begun on a rope bridge to get them over the Conemaugh. But more remarkable still was the fact that early Sunday, perhaps as early as eight in the morning, the Pittsburgh train itself came steaming up the valley clear to the stone bridge. So swiftly had the railroad swung back into action during the night that by dawn enough new track had been put down from Sang Hollow to start the train cautiously on its way. And as it crept through the ruins of Morrellville and Cambria City, men standing in the open doors of the boxcars passed out bundles of bread, cheese, and crackers to the ragged crowds that lined the tracks.\n\nThe supplies had left Pittsburgh about four Saturday afternoon. Pittsburgh had been in a frenzy since early that morning. The Allegheny River had risen sharply during the night, and the riverbanks and bridges were lined with people watching the wreckage sweep past. Already there were rumors that dead bodies had been fished out. \"A sense of intense uneasiness pervaded the air,\" one man wrote.\n\nThere were still precious few facts to go on, but the papers were getting out a new edition every hour, and the news kept growing more and more alarming. Outside the newspaper offices, traffic was snarled by the crowds that pressed in to read the latest bulletins and kept calling for names.\n\nAt one o'clock a mass meeting was held at Pittsburgh's Old City Hall, at which Robert Pitcairn stood up and spoke briefly about what he had seen. \"Gentlemen,\" he said in closing, \"it is not tomorrow you want to act, but today; thousands of lives were lost in a moment, and the living need immediate help.\" Then there was a call for contributions. At the front of the hall two men using both hands took in $48,116.70 in fifty minutes. \"There was no speech making,\" a reporter wrote, \"no oratory but the eloquence of cash.\"\n\nWagons were sent through the city to collect food and clothing. Union Station looked like wartime, swarming with people and with train after train being loaded in the yards. The first train went out with twenty cars full. On board were some eighty volunteers of the \"Pittsburgh Relief Committee,\" a dozen reporters, perhaps thirty police, and, according to one account, Mr. Durbin Home, a member of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, who was on his way to find out what had happened to several friends and relatives who had not been heard from since they left for the lake on Memorial Day.\n\nWhen the rope bridge was finally finished Sunday morning at Johnstown, the men started over with their heavy loads, swaying precariously above the raging river. They came across one at a time and very slowly. And for the next several days, until the stone bridge was open again, they would keep on coming almost without stop.\n\nLater on Sunday several good-sized boats would be hauled up the valley by train and put into service crossing the river, taking men and supplies over and bringing refugees back. On Sunday the boats ferried some 3,000 passengers, coming and going. Monday, they carried 7,000, along with supplies and dead bodies.\n\nWagons loaded down with salt pork, bedding, goods of every kind, rolled down flood-gullied roads from Ebensburg and Loretto, splashing up showers of gummy mud the color of a new baseball glove. Doctors and work crews started off from Altoona, where it was reported 5,000 people were milling about the railroad station. In dozens of little towns along the Pennsylvania toward Pittsburgh, and back along the B & O toward Somerset, church bells were ringing and hundreds of people were coming in from the country with their donations; and all day, one after another, relief trains kept streaming through, many of them with \"For the Johnstown Sufferers\" scrawled in big letters on the boxcars. One train in by the Somerset line carried a whole shipment of tents sent by the governor of Ohio. Another Pittsburgh train, eleven cars long, carried nothing but coffins.\n\nSome of the offerings that were mounting up in Johnstown created more than a little amusement. In their eagerness to help, some people had not bothered to think much about what would be needed. One nicely tied bundle opened Sunday afternoon contained a ball of carpet rags, a paper of tacks, two bags of salt, one baby's shoe, and two darned stockings of different colors. A box of homemade liniment, with \"warm before using\" written on the side, was tossed out of one car. There was a package of worn-out schoolbooks, a Bible with several pages marked, some fancy needlework, even bits of bric-a-brac.\n\nBut almost everything else that came in, however shabby or trivial seeming, was immediately grabbed up and put to good use. A blue dress coat with bright brass buttons that looked every bit of seventy years old was presented to an equally ancient-looking Grubbtown man who wore it away with much pride. Children went shuffling off in shoes several sizes too big for them. Women gladly put on men's coats and hats.\n\nAnd as much as there was coming in, it was nowhere near enough. There were perhaps 27,000 people in the valley who had to be taken care of, who had to be supplied with every kind of basic necessity; and added to them were all those others streaming in to help.\n\nBy nightfall Sunday well over 1,000 people were in from out of town. Something like fifty undertakers had arrived from Pittsburgh. The railroad was bringing work crews in by the trainful. A Pittsburgh fire department had arrived and, remarkably enough, by midnight had just about extinguished the fire at the stone bridge. There was also present a rather stout Republican politician by the name of Daniel Hartman Hastings, the Adjutant General of the state, who, after looking the situation over since morning, had decided it was time the military took over.\n\nA lawyer by profession, the general's only military experience had been at Altoona during the strike of '77. Saturday morning he had hitched up his team and driven nonstop from his home in Bellefonte, seventy miles to the northeast, arriving at Prospect Hill after dark. He had slept that night in the company of several tramps on the floor of the signal tower at the Pennsylvania station and managed to cross over to Johnstown first thing the next morning. He talked to Moxham and his committeemen about calling out the National Guard but was advised strenuously against it. Moxham thought it was important that the people handle their problems themselves; it would do more than anything else, he said, to help them get over their anxieties.\n\nLater in the day, when a company of troops arrived from Pittsburgh, sent by the Pittsburgh Chamber of Commerce, Hastings told them to go back to where they had come from. They had received no proper orders to turn out, he said, and had no business being there. He gave the officer in charge a vigorous dressing down, and back they went.\n\nBut by nightfall another meeting was held with the local officials and it was agreed to draw up a formal request to the governor for troops. For by now it was clear to just about everyone that the job of running things had gone beyond what the Moxham \"dictatorship\" could cope with. In another two days Moxham would resign his authority altogether, and James B. Scott, head of the Pittsburgh Relief Committee, would take over as the civilian head.\n\nRumors of looting and drunken fist fights were now even more exaggerated than they had been the previous night, but now they were not totally unfounded. The Reverend Beale and others later testified to witnessing attempted thefts. On Prospect Hill there seemed to be an inexhaustible supply of whiskey. One husky farm boy who had come down from Ebensburg with a load of provisions stayed long enough to get so drunk that he toppled off the hillside, rolled head over heels down the embankment, and fell into the Little Conemaugh, nearly drowning in minutes. \"God only saved him,\" his father said later, \"and for something better we hope.\"\n\nCaptain Hart's police seemed unable to keep order, and if things were not troublesome enough as they were, one of his lieutenants, a much-respected local lawyer and sportsman named Chal Dick, went riding about on horseback brandishing a Winchester rifle and telling lurid stories about the Hungarians he had seen robbing the dead and how he had already shot a couple of them. The stories spread like wildfire, and with them went more fear and suspicion of any man who spoke with an accent or even looked slightly foreign. People talked of how Paris had been looted by the Germans during the Franco-Prussian War, or harked back to tales of violence and evil doings in the old country at the time of the plagues.\n\nAnd to make matters still worse, it was well known that even more people were on their way. Word was Sunday night that Booth and Flinn, the big Pittsburgh construction company, was sending 1,000 men the next day, and everyone had heard about the kind of riffraff Billy Flinn was known for hiring. He would pack them into freight cars like cattle and then turn them loose into Johnstown. Every last one of them would have to be fed and sheltered, and where was it all to come from? And who was there to police the place?\n\nBut what was not known, even as Hastings sent out his message to the governor, was just how many others were heading for the devastated city. For along with the Flinn crew there were thousands more coming\u2014charity workers, doctors, preachers, men looking for work, smalltime crooks and pickpockets, drifters, farm hands, ladies of the W.C.T.U., former Johnstown people heading back to look for relatives, railroad officials, prostitutes, sight-seers.\n\nFrom Pittsburgh Captain Bill Jones was on his way with three carloads of supplies and a small army of 300 men from the Edgar Thomson works, a number of whom had been with him in the old days at the Cambria mills. In Philadelphia pretty society girls were packing medical supplies and making ready to start off with relief units organized by half a dozen churches. Mr. H. C. Tarr of the Utopia Embalming Fluid Company of Brooklyn had already struck out for Johnstown and would wind up traveling nearly 200 miles by horseback before he got there. In Washington, Miss Clara Barton and her newly organized American Red Cross had boarded a special B & O train.\n\nFor, already, the Johnstown Flood had become the biggest news story since the murder of Abraham Lincoln. On Saturday night, quite late, the reporters camped inside the brickworks had finally gotten a line clear to Pittsburgh, and the words had been pouring out ever since. (\"The awful catastrophe at Johnstown is by all odds the most stupendous fatality ever known in the history of this country. . . .\")\n\nThe news had an effect that is difficult to imagine; by Sunday it was spread across the front page of virtually every paper in the country. On Saturday the papers had hedged on how many had been killed. The New York World had reported 1,500 lives lost; the Times had been even more cautious, saying only that hundreds were dead. But on Sunday the World headlines ran halfway down the page, and though they still had no firsthand facts to go on, the editors had decided to pull out all stops:\n\n10,000 DEAD\n\nJohnstown Blotted Out by the Flood\n\nHALF ITS PEOPLE KILLED\n\nTwo Thousand Burned to Death in the Wreck\n\nALL APPROACHES CUT OFF\n\nIn Pittsburgh the Post-Gazette was selling its editions so fast that it had to reduce its page size temporarily in order not to run out of paper. Everywhere people were talking of little else and wanted to know more, much more; they wanted facts, names, details, pictures. And so along with all the others heading for Johnstown there came more reporters (perhaps a hundred or more), telegraph operators, editors, authors, artists, photographers.\n\nThe great rush to Johnstown, which had begun in Pittsburgh Friday night, was now under way full force. They came, thousands of them, from every station in life and from as far away as California, heading for a place very few of them had ever heard of two days earlier, driven by the most disparate motives imaginable.\n\n## VIII\n\n## \"No pen can describe . . .\"\n\n### -1-\n\nHenry S. Brown of the Philadelphia Press had been sitting at his desk at eleven o'clock Friday night when the news first came in. At 11:25 he was on board a westbound train pulling out of the Broad Street Station, having taken no time to pack or, for that matter, to give much thought to just where it was he was going or what chance he had of getting there. At Harrisburg the train was delayed by floods along the Susquehanna, but Brown stayed on board when the conductor assured him everything would be cleared up in a few hours and that they would be moving on again. At dawn he was told things had changed rather drastically; nothing would be open west for two weeks.\n\nBrown got hold of some maps and decided that if he could get a train to Chambersburg, fifty miles to the southwest, and could hire a team there, he might just be able to drive the rest of the way, which, according to the map, looked to be another hundred miles. He took the Cumberland Valley Railroad out of Harrisburg, but it was not until Sunday afternoon that he reached Chambersburg, located a double team, and started over the Tuscarora Mountain to McConnellsburg, twenty-two miles due west. Halfway over the mountain his wagon broke down, but he managed to borrow another from a farmer. At McConnellsburg he picked up another team and pushed on, along the Pennsylvania Pike (the old Forbes Road), heading for Juniata Crossing. From then on he splattered his way down washed-out roads, forded streams where bridges had been swept away, walked when he had to, crossed Sideling Hill in the dark, changed teams five more times, and never stopped to eat or rest. He reached Bedford about seven Monday morning and, finding no train there as he had expected, went whirling off once again, this time bound for Stoystown behind a pair of snow-white mules. Between Bedford and Stoystown, still traveling the state road, he managed to cross the Allegheny Mountain at a place where the elevation approaches 3,000 feet.\n\nAt Stoystown he would be able to pick up the B & O line from Somerset, but he arrived just in time to miss a relief train there; so rather than wait for another, he hired still one more team and headed on again, following the tortuous route of the raging Stony Creek down to Johnstown.\n\nIt was about seven thirty Monday night when he finally reached Johnstown, after having traveled the hundred miles from Chambersburg in about twenty-eight hours. No more than ten minutes later he was shaking hands with another correspondent by the name of F. Jennings Crute, also of the Press. Crute had left the Philadelphia office at the same time as Brown and had pulled into Johnstown only an hour before, having traveled about seven times as far as Brown. For instead of heading west on the Pennsylvania Friday night, Crute had made the whole trip by rail, first by heading east to New York, then going by way of Buffalo (on the Central) to Cleveland and Pittsburgh.\n\nBrown and Crute went directly to work and, like the other reporters swarming over the place, were soon filing their stories from the brickworks above the stone bridge, which by now had become quite a center of operations. The Pittsburgh papers, the Times, the Press, the Dispatch, the Commercial-Gazette, and the Leader, were all represented. (In an old photograph taken at the end of the stone bridge on Sunday, a group of twenty-one Pittsburgh correspondents pose proudly beneath derby hats, several with cigar in hand, their dark vests crossed by heavy watch chains.) They had taken over two floors of one building, as well as a woodshed. The newcomers squeezed in where best they could, everyone working under tremendous difficulties. Those who had been there for more than twenty-four hours were unshaven, red-eyed, and near collapse from lack of sleep. They were using barrelheads, coffin lids, and shovel bottoms for writing desks, and the words they wrote were put on the wire as fast as was humanly possible.\n\nThe place became known as the \"Lime Kiln Club\" and rapidly gave rise to that special kind of fellowship-through-duress, which so often happens in war. \"The culinary department,\" one of the group wrote later, \"was taken charge of by Tom Keenan of the Press. With an old coffee-pot taken from the debris at the bridge, some canned corned beef, a few boxes of crackers, a few quarts of condensed milk and a bag of unground coffee, he was soon enabled to get up a meal for his starving comrades which was the envy of those in the neighborhood who, while hungry, did not belong to the band of scribes, whom they looked upon as a lot of luxurious revellers.\"\n\nBy late Monday the force of telegraph operators had increased enough to set up night and day shifts. Food became more plentiful, and the presence of the new men did much to boost spirits. The New York Sun reporters had come by the same roundabout route as F. Jennings Crute, while their rivals from the Herald, World, Times, and Tribune had gone more or less the way of Henry Brown. The correspondent of the Chicago Inter-Ocean walked up from Sang Hollow, as did several others, and every one of them was brimful of tales of his experiences.\n\nThe early arrivals at last got some sleep that night, there at the brickworks, while the newcomers found what accommodations they could elsewhere around town. Eight of them, including the Philadelphia men, wound up on the narrow first floor of the signal tower across the river. About midnight they were awakened by a man at the door saying, \"Isn't this terrible. Look at them, human beings, drowned like rats in their hole.\" At which point one of the corpses sat bolt upright and said, \"Get the hell out of here and let us sleep!\"\n\nBut for all the boon companionship and oft-told stories, the hardships endured by \"the gentlemen of the press\" were considerable. Vile-smelling smoke from the still smoldering bridge blew through the windows of the old building where they worked. The floor was shaky and full of holes, and to enter the place in the dark of night was, as one man said, \"to place one's life in jeopardy.\" John Ritenour of the Pittsburgh Post fell twenty feet, wedging between timbers and so severely injuring himself that he had to be sent home. Sam Kerr of the Leader fell off the top of a house lodged in the drift and would have drowned if one of his colleagues had not been on hand to pull him out. Clarence Bixby of the Post fell from the railroad bridge while trying to get across at one in the morning and was badly banged up. And several weeks later, F. Jennings Crute, worn down by lack of sleep and exposure, caught a cold that turned to pneumonia. On December 3 he died.\n\nThe competition between papers was friendly but fierce, with every man scrambling for an advantage. One of them, a William Henry Smith of the Associated Press, had actually been on board a section of the ill-fated Day Express and wrote a long, florid description of the experience. (\"It was a race for life. There was seen the black head of the flood, now the monster Destruction, whose crest was raised high in the air, and with this in view even the weak found wings for their feet.\") But for the rest it was a matter of finding out what was happening amid the chaos around them, and as of Monday night there was plenty happening.\n\nThe city itself was still the most overpowering spectacle. (\"It is a scene that blanches the faces of strong men, and in its multiplying horror is almost beyond description,\" wrote a reporter for the New York Daily Graphic.) The weather had turned dull and cold again, which was unpleasant but welcome news as far as the doctors and sanitation workers were concerned. This way the dead would not decay quite so fast.\n\nBonfires by the hundreds were blazing across the valley where the ungainly and by now putrid carcasses of drowned horses were being cremated. The stench everywhere was terrible, of burned plaster and sodden bedding, of oil-soaked muck, of water thick with every kind of filth, and, worst of all, of still unfound bodies. The correspondents wrote of negotiating the rope bridge over the Conemaugh (\"A slide, a series of frightful tosses from side to side, a run, and you have crossed . . .\") and of the curious things to be found once in town (\"In the midst of the wreck a clothing store dummy, with a hand in the position of beckoning to a person, stands erect and uninjured.\"). They interviewed bystanders (\" 'I have visited Johnstown a dozen times a year for a long time,' said a businessman to-day, 'and I know it thoroughly, but I haven't the least idea now of what part of it this is. I can't even tell the direction the streets used to run.' \"); and they quoted General Hastings as saying that there were 8,000 people dead. (\"Nobody thinks this too small,\" the Sun reporter added. \"Nobody who has been about here an hour would think anything too awful to be possible.\")\n\nSunday night four enormous relief trains had rolled in below the bridge. Monday Billy Flinn brought in 280 teams of horses and 1,300 men. (\"Very few Americans among them,\" wrote one reporter.) Mrs. Lew Wallace, wife of the war hero and novelist, was reported missing from the Day Express. (She had actually taken another train and was safe in Altoona.) John Fulton and Colonel John Linton were both mistakenly reported dead (Fulton was reported \"positively drowned\"), and James McMillan, vice-president of Cambria Iron, was asked when work would start on rebuilding the mills, to which he answered, \"Immediately.\" There was talk of dynamiting the wreckage at the stone bridge, and there was a strong plea from the doctors and the sanitation officials from Pittsburgh to let it burn. The smell of burning flesh among the wreckage was something awful (\"People in New York who remember the smell of the ruins of the Belt Line stables, after their destruction by fire . . . know what the odor is.\"), but fire would cut the odds against a typhus outbreak, and throughout the valley and on downriver, clear to Pittsburgh, typhus had become an overriding concern.\n\nIn Pittsburgh the papers urged everyone to boil his water. From Nineveh, where nearly a hundred bodies had been recovered, Dr. Benjamin Lee, head of the Pennsylvania Board of Health, sent a message to the sheriffs of the four counties between Johnstown and Pittsburgh:\n\nThe State Board of Health hereby directs and empowers you to immediately summon a posse to patrol the Conemaugh river, tear down the drift heaps and remove the dead bodies, both human beings and domestic animals. This is absolutely necessary to protect your county from pestilence.\n\nThe wreckage at the bridge was described in detail, with some saying it covered thirty acres, others claiming it was more like sixty. (It was about halfway in between.) \"I stood on the stone bridge at 6 o'clock,\" wrote a Sun reporter Monday, \"and looked into the seething mass of ruin below me. At one place the blackened body of a babe was seen; in another 14 skulls could be counted . . . At this time the smoke was still rising to the height of 50 feet . . .\" On Wednesday, June 5, a little boy named Eddie Schoefler would be found still alive amid the wreckage. It would be one of the momentous events of the week.\n\nThen, from Sunday on, there had been increased tension over the Hungarians, which was something quite colorful indeed to write about. Thanks to Chal Dick and, by now, many others, tales of \"foul deeds\" perpetrated by the \"fiendish Huns\" were rampant, and only a few reporters bothered to try to check them out. Story after story went on the wire describing how \"ghouls, more like wild beasts\" were slicing off fingers for gold wedding bands, and how angry Johnstown vigilantes were hunting them down. One account described how a woman's body had been decapitated in order to steal her necklace. The Post told how gangs of Hungarians tried to raid unguarded freight cars for food and clothes. Another report said that a Hungarian had been caught in the act of blowing up a safe in the First National Bank. The Daily Graphic described how a crowd cornered a Hungarian at his \"fiendish work\" and strung him up on a lamppost.\n\nThis sample of the over-all tone and content of the reports was written late Sunday:\n\nLast night a party of thirteen Hungarians were noticed stealthily picking their way along the banks of the Conemaugh toward Sang Hollow. Suspicious of their purpose, several farmers armed themselves and started in pursuit. Soon their most horrible fears were realized. The Hungarians were out for plunder. They came upon the dead and mangled body of a woman, lying upon the shore, upon whose person there were a number of trinkets of jewelry and two diamond rings. In their eagerness to secure the plunder, the Hungarians got into a squabble, during which one of the number severed the finger upon which were the rings, and started on a run with his fearful prize. The revolting nature of the deed so wrought upon the pursuing farmers, who by this time were close at hand, that they gave immediate chase. Some of the Hungarians showed fight, but, being outnumbered, were compelled to flee for their lives. Nine of the brutes escaped, but four were literally driven into the surging river and to their death. The thief who took the rings was among the number of the involuntary suicides.\n\nThe \"thugs and thieves in unclean hordes,\" as one writer described them, were nearly always Hungarians, though there was at least one report of two Negroes being shot at by Pittsburgh police when seen robbing a dead body, and there were a few references to \"the worthless Poles.\"\n\nSuch accounts were given a great deal of space by all but a few of the big eastern papers and were featured prominently in the headlines. (\"FIENDS IN HUMAN FORM\" ran the New York Herald headline on Monday. \"DRUNKEN HUNGARIANS, DANCING, SINGING, CURSING AND FIGHTING AMID THE RUINS.\") Lurid illustrations were published, drawn by artists who had only the reporters' stories to go by. One scene showed two bodies dangling from a telephone pole near the riverbank, while in the foreground a \"wild-eyed\" Hungarian, who looks much like a touring company Fagin, is held at bay, knee-deep in water, by a stalwart gentleman with a horse pistol who could very well be Robert E. Lee.\n\nThey were stories which had great appeal to anyone ready to believe in the darker side of humanity and particularly that segment of humanity which spoke with a thick accent, smelled of garlic, and worked cheap. The only trouble was that there was scarcely any truth to the stories, as several correspondents had already begun to suspect. At four Monday afternoon Alfred Reed of the World cabled his editors:\n\nNO LYNCHINGS. I WARNED YOU LAST NIGHT NOT TO PRINT WILD RUMORS, AND AM GLAD TO HEAR YOU HAD ENOUGH CONFIDENCE IN ME TO HOLD OUT SUCH STORIES.\n\nThe next day an angry General Hastings issued a statement that reports of lynchings and rioting were \"utterly devoid of truth,\" sharply criticized the newspapers for publishing them, and suggested that the reporters stick to the facts.\n\nSeveral characters had indeed been caught trying to pilfer the dead and had received some rather rough treatment, including, it appears, enough mock preparations for a lynching to put a terrific scare into one of them; and it is quite possible that a few fingers may have been mutilated by thieves trying to wrench off gold wedding bands. But there were certainly no diamond rings stolen (one survivor doubted that there were more than one or two diamond rings in all Johnstown at that time), no bank safes were blown, and, as David Beale wrote later, no fingers were cut off by human ghouls. Furthermore, the Hungarians themselves apparently had almost nothing to do with what foul doings there were. \"There was little stealing done by the Hungarians,\" Beale wrote, \"and most accounts of outrages attributed to these people were apocryphal; and I am glad to say that all statements of shooting and hanging them were without foundation.\" And to emphasize the validity of this last statement, he said his source was Chal Dick himself.\n\nDick, it seems, had gone slightly out of his head immediately after the disaster and had been suffering from vivid and vicious delusions. His wife and children had been killed and he simply went berserk for about a day or so. By the time he snapped out of it, the damage had been done, and from then on the stories were spread, according to the best evidence, largely by outsiders who had come into the valley.\n\nFor though there may have been relatively little resentment in Johnstown against the Hungarians (or the other Southern European peoples called Hungarians), in Pittsburgh feelings were different. The steel bosses, like Henry Clay Frick, had been bringing them in by the thousands to work in Braddock and Homestead. They were single men mostly, willing to work for the lowest wages, and under the worst conditions, just to save enough to go back home and buy a small farm on the Danube. They got the toughest jobs, worked hard, and were generally hated by the Irish, the German, and American workers. Years later, John Fitch, the historian, interviewed an old Scotch-Irish furnace boss in Pittsburgh about the \"hunkies.\"\n\n\"They don't seem like men to me hardly,\" he said. \"They can't talk United States. You tell them something and they just look and say, 'Me no fustay, me no fustay,' that's all you can get out of 'em.\" When wages were going down, when men were let go at the mills, when the unions suffered setbacks, somehow the Hungarians seemed at the root of things.\n\nThe few Hungarians there were in Johnstown (perhaps 500 of them were living in the valley at the time of the flood) were subjected to days of abuse. Speaking little English, fearful and suspicious even under normal circumstances, they now became so terrified of the angry crowds that hung outside their homes that they dared not go out even to collect their share of the relief provisions. Their children were starving; the men grew desperate. At one point about twenty of them were encouraged to come out to help dig graves in the cemetery above Minersville. After working all day, on their way back home in the dark, they were set upon by a gang armed with clubs and were badly beaten.\n\nBut by midweek the Hungarian scare was over. There were still rumors, but papers like the Philadelphia Press were saying, \"There is not an inch of truth in them,\" and nearly everyone in Johnstown knew that that was so. While in Chicago the Herald wrote that the \"Magyars\" there were \"justly indignant\" over the stories, and tried to resolve the whole unfortunate business by adding, \"The wretches who now prey upon the dead at Johnstown and refuse to aid in the work of rescue, are undoubtedly Bulgarians, Wallachs, Moldavians, and Tartars, classes degraded in all their manners as is the North American Indian. . . .\"\n\n\u2022 \u2022 \u2022\n\nSometime Monday Colonel Unger came into town from South Fork, accompanied by the Shea brothers, John Parke, and one or two other employees of the fishing and hunting club. Understandably, the press was most interested in talking to them.\n\nUnger gave the Pittsburgh Post a brief rundown on what had happened at the dam Friday morning and how he and his men had tried to prevent the disaster. He estimated that the loss to the club was about $150,000 and said that the club members who had been at the lake were all safe and that they had gone off to Altoona.\n\nParke seemed more interested in getting word to his people in Philadelphia that he was alive and in good health, but was quoted by the New York Sun, \"No blame can be attached to anyone for this greatest of horrors. It was a calamity that could not be avoided.\" He said the fault was \"storm after storm\" and that \"by twelve o'clock everybody in the Conemaugh region did know or should have known of their danger.\"\n\nBut an employee by the name of Herbert Webber, who must have been interviewed separately, launched into a long description of the dam the morning before it failed. He told the reporters that at around eleven he had been attending to a camp a mile back from the dam when he noticed that the surface of the lake seemed to be lowering. He could not quite believe what he saw, he said, so he went down and made a mark on the shore, and sure enough he found his suspicions were well founded. For days before, he went on, he had seen water shooting out between the rocks on the front of the dam, so that the face \"resembled a large watering pot.\" The force of the water was so great \"that one of these jets squirted full thirty feet horizontally from the stone wall.\" When he ran up to the dam that morning, he declared, he saw the water of the lake \"welling out from beneath the foundation stones.\"\n\nThe story was preposterous, of course, and had no connection with what actually happened, but the reporters had no way of knowing that. The watering-can image made splendid copy, so out it went, along with everything else.\n\nBut by this time at least one enterprising reporter had already made his way to the club. In Pittsburgh that Monday the headline across the front of the Post read: \"TO THE DAM AT LAST.\" The story had been sent out at nine the night before and said, as Unger had, that the Pittsburgh people were safe and, as Parke had, that warnings had been sent down the valley before the break. In another two days more reporters would show up at South Fork. They would begin looking over the construction of the dam itself and start questioning the local people about the club. South Fork would shortly become the center of a stormy series of events, but for now Johnstown remained the major focus of attention.\n\nOne survivor after another was interviewed and dozens of frightful personal experiences were penciled into reporters' notebooks. The heroism of Bill Heppenstall (Hepenthal several papers spelled it), the adventures of Gertrude Quinn, and John Hess's ride into East Conemaugh were described at length.\n\nNumerous stories were collected of ironic or incredible things that happened. All of Johnstown's three or four blind people had survived the flood. Frank Benford's dun-colored mare was found in an alley next to where the Hulbert House had been, up to her belly in debris, alive, but blinded in both eyes. Old Mrs. Levergood, widow of Jacob Levergood, whose father had owned the town way back in the early days, was found dead, all the way up at Sandy Vale, still seated in her rocking chair.\n\nThen there was the story about the engineer at the Cambria works who early in the afternoon of that fateful Friday had started a letter to an old college friend, \"Thank God, I am through with a day such as I hope never to pass again.\" A \"gay girl\" of the town was said to have jumped from a hotel window during the very worst of the flood in a fatal effort to save a drowning child. There was a Newfoundland dog that supposedly hauled a Woodvale woman to safety and then swam back to save a drowning baby. And another dog, a water spaniel named Romeo, was said to have towed his mistress, Mrs. Charles Kress, to the windows of Alma Hall. And just above the hideous pileup at the stone bridge, on a billboard at the depot, there was a large poster, undamaged by the flood, which several reporters made a point of mentioning. Put there a few days before the flood to announce the arrival of Augustin Daly's A Night Off, its very large headline read, \"Intensely Funny.\"\n\nAmong the best pieces describing the human condition in Johnstown during these days were several by a late-arriving cub reporter for the Philadelphia Press whose name was Richard Harding Davis. The son of two prominent Philadelphia literary figures, he was strikingly handsome, twenty-five, elegant, aloof, and loving every minute of his first real assignment. At Lehigh he had been the most popular figure on campus, despite what one of his classmates described as his \"strict adherence to everything English in the way of dress and manner.\" His first job had been on the Philadelphia Record where he sported a long, yellow ulster, carried a cane, and was rather hard for the old newspapermen to swallow. As it was, he only lasted three months. He was caught one day by the city editor writing up an assignment with his kid gloves on and was promptly fired on the spot.\n\nBut with the Press he had fared better. He had sold a few short stories, interviewed Walt Whitman, and sent some samples of his work off to Robert Louis Stevenson with a request for advice. Stevenson advised writing \"with considerate slowness and on the most ambitious models.\" The slowness Davis would never quite master, nor would he try really; and the only ambitious model he ever seems to have set his sights on was his own very clear picture of himself as the world's most dashing and celebrated foreign correspondent.\n\nAt the time the Johnstown story broke, Davis had been on vacation. It took several days for him to persuade the paper to send him, and when he finally arrived, he got off to a characteristic start. \"A Philadelphia reporter was sent here to finish up the disaster, but the disaster is likely to finish him,\" wrote The New York Times man. On alighting from his train, Davis \"paralysed Newspaper row\" by asking for the nearest restaurant. When it was explained that everyone had to forage on the country, Davis wanted to know where he could hire a horse and buggy, which set off another round of laughter. \"But,\" concluded the Times man, \"he capped the climax by asking where he could buy a white shirt. A boiled shirt here is as rare as mince pie in Africa.\"\n\nBoiled shirt or no, he went to work, concentrating on human-interest stories. He wrote of walking over thousands of spilled cigars and of a pretty, young relief worker named Miss Hinkley of Philadelphia who was\n\n. . . sitting busily writing at a table beside an open window which looked out on the yard of the morgue, and in which forty odd coffins filled with the dead were being examined by the living. Miss Hinkley's hair was as carefully arranged and her tailor-made gown as neat and fresh as if she had stepped that moment from the Quaker City's Rittenhouse Square. Reporters became painfully conscious of clothes that have been slept in for seven nights, and chins that had forgotten razors.\n\nHe wrote about a fist fight down in Cambria City between a local deputy sheriff and a drunken National Guard lieutenant named Jackson, who was put under arrest and sent back to Pittsburgh after several bystanders, including Davis, stepped in to break things up. He described the offers coming in from people all over the country who wished to adopt a Johnstown orphan, and told the story of a man named John McKee, whose body had been found inside a cell of the town jail. McKee had been locked up for twenty-four hours for overcelebrating on Memorial Day.\n\nAnd along with the reporters, working their way among the ruins, came the photographers, lugging their ponderous, fragile equipment. They made pictures of men standing on freight cars in the midst of Main Street, of wagons loaded down with coffins, and of the great barren mud flat where Woodvale had been. The monstrous debris that clogged the city was pictured from virtually every angle, and at least one photographer decided to improve slightly on his composition by having a man lie down and play dead in the foreground. The picture later became one of the most popular stereoptican views of the disaster. But by the time the photographers were about, any body so exposed would have been long since found and removed; moreover, the shirt on the man's back looks a bit too neat and clean and the things around him are a little too nicely arranged.\n\nUpturned houses, gangs of laborers carrying shovels and axes and threading their way through huge dunes of rubbish, like a drab, derby-hatted army moving through the remains of a fallen city, the jerry-built shelters on the hillsides, farm women in poke bonnets working at the commissaries, they all made splendid subjects. But the most popular subject by far was a house owned by John Schultz which had stood on Union Street but was now stranded at the east end of Main. It had been pitched up on its side, and through an upstairs window a gigantic tree had been driven, its roots jutting thirty feet into the air. The building looked as though it had been skewered by some terrible oak-flinging god. One by one men and boys would crawl out on the tree to sit for a portrait, their faces registering no emotion, their feet dangling in light that had little more color than it would have in the final printed photograph. Six people had been in the house when the water struck, and they had all come out alive.\n\nAt one point it was estimated that there were no less than 200 amateur photographers about town, enough in any case that they had become a serious nuisance. So the word went around that if you were an able-bodied man but had no official business in town, then you had to work if you wanted to stay on. It was, as one observer said, a policy which had a \"most salutary effect.\"\n\nHarper's Weekly, Frank Leslie's, and some of the other picture magazines had sent artists to cover the story. There were two or three writers gathering material for quick books. And in New York the World even managed to get Walt Whitman, who had celebrated his seventieth birthday on the day of the flood, to write a poem which was promptly printed on page one.\n\nA voice from Death, solemn and strange, in all his sweep and power,\n\nWith sudden, indescribable blow\u2014towns drown'd\u2014humanity by thousands slain,\n\nThe vaunted work of thrift, goods, dwellings, forge, street, iron bridge,\n\nDash'd pell-mell by the blow\u2014yet usher'd life continuing on, . . .\n\nAnd in the Denver, Boston, and Brooklyn papers, long excerpts were published from a novel called Put Yourself in His Place, which had been written by a well-known English author named Charles Reade nearly twenty years before. Its closing chapters described the bursting of a reservoir and a dreadful flood which were surprisingly similar to what had happened at Johnstown.\n\nReade had based his book on the failure of the Dale Dyke at Sheffield, England, which had taken 238 lives in 1864; but for the millions of Americans who now read the excerpts, the \"Hillsborough\" of his story, with its steel mills and coal mines \"fringed by fair woods,\" and its reservoir in the mountains to the east, seemed so like Johnstown as to be uncanny. The story told of people dreaming of floods, of workmen who had long \"misliked\" the foundation of the dam. When the break came, it was only after a storm had raised the level of the lake so far that it started flowing over the center of the dam. Then down the valley came \"an avalanche of water, whirling great trees up by the roots, and sweeping huge rocks away, and driving them, like corks, for miles.\"\n\nMeanwhile, the headlines blared away, day after day. \"Agony\" . . . \"WOE!\" . . . \"PESTILENCE!\" . . . and by midweek, \"DEATH GROWS\u2014A GIANT! One Pervading Presence Throughout the Conemaugh Valley, FIFTEEN THOUSAND CORPSES, A Tale of Grief That Can Only Be Told in Bitter Tears, Another Day of Utter Despair.\"\n\nThe phrase \"no pen can describe . . .\" kept cropping up again and again, but the pens kept right on describing. The story took up the entire front page of both The New York Times and the World for five straight days. The Boston Post carried little else on its front page for twelve days running. It was called \"The Great Calamity,\" \"The Nation's Greatest Calamity,\" \"The Historic Catastrophe.\" Frank Leslie's said outright, \"It is the most extraordinary calamity of the age.\" Great battles had destroyed more life, said one writer after another, but no battle left such a ghastly trail of horror and devastation. That such a thing had happened in the United States of America in the year 1889 seemed almost more than the editorial writers could accept. Several papers, including Frank Leslie's, allowed that similar slaughter might occur in India or China or other remote lands \"where human life is cheap,\" but how in the world had it ever happened here?\n\nAll over the country newspapers published column after column of names of the dead. An extraordinary amount of space was given over to telling of the \"Slaughter of the Innocents.\" The bodies of women and children found among the wreckage or in the deep, flood-dumped silt downstream were described in grim detail. Every reporter at Johnstown it seems saw at least one dead mother still clutching her dead child, and much was made of the fact that more women died in the disaster than men. (Of the bodies finally recovered 923 were men, 1,219 women.)\n\nVictorian sentimentality had a heyday. The most pathetic-looking \"Johnstown orphans\" imaginable were drawn by New York artists and published beside long accounts of lost children. There were stories published of families tenderly bidding each other a final good-by just as the flood was about to pounce on them and of people tucking farewell notes into bottles before they slipped beneath the water for the last time.\n\nOne publisher, Kurz & Allison of Chicago, eventually got out a color lithograph which became one of the popular works of art of the age. In the upper right-hand corner a dam bursts almost directly on top of a Johnstown where all the women and children are barefoot and many are in their night clothes at four in the afternoon. The women are fainting, falling, down on their knees praying, while the men, most of whom are amply clothed and shod, dash about trying bravely to contend with the rush of fire and water.\n\nThe newspapers, too, went very heavy on the horrors to be seen among the ruins of Johnstown, sometimes stretching the art nearly to the breaking point. This memorable sample, written at Johnstown on Wednesday, June 5, appeared the following day in the Philadelphia Press:\n\n. . . One of the most ghastly and nauseous sights to those unaccustomed to scenes of death is the lunching arrangement for the undertakers. These men are working so hard that they have no time for meals, and huge boilers of steaming coffee, loaves of bread, dried beef and preserves are carried into the charnel house and placed at the disposal of the workers. Along comes one weary toiler, his sleeves rolled up, and apron in front and perspiring profusely despite the cold, damp weather. He has just finished washing a clammy corpse, has daubed it with cold water, manipulated it about on the boards and in the interval before the body of another poor wretch is brought in, gets a cup of coffee and a sandwich. With dripping hands he eats his lunch with relish, setting his cup occasionally beside the hideous face of a decomposing corpse and totally oblivious to his horrible surroundings.\n\nWhatever the reporters may have lacked in the way of facts, they made up for in imagination. Distortions, wild exaggerations, and outright nonsense were published in just about every major paper in the country. One reporter described buzzards (\"incited by their disgusting instinct\") circling over the stone bridge; another claimed the rivers were literally dammed with dead bodies. There were tales of wild dogs ravaging the graves of flood victims and devouring corpses by the dozens. Indianapolis readers were told that \"each blackened beam hides a skull.\"\n\nThere seems little doubt that there was plenty of drinking going on, but one writer for the New York World had men staggering about with whole pailfuls of whiskey. (\"Barrels of the stuff are constantly located among the drifts, and men are scrambling over each other and fighting like wild beasts in their mad search for it.\") A large family was pictured sailing by during the height of the flood singing \"Nearer, My God, to Thee\" in harmony. And of those stories emphasizing the pitiful fate of the innocent, perhaps the most imaginative was one filed from New Florence. A bride from Johnstown (she was supposedly married just before the flood) was quoted: \"Today they took five little children out of the water, who had been playing 'Ring around a rosy.' Their hands were clasped in a clasp which even death did not loosen, and their faces were still smiling.\"\n\nBut the most splendid story of the lot was one about a man named Daniel Peyton, the so-called \"Paul Revere of the Flood,\" who was said to have galloped down the valley on a big bay warning everyone to run for the hills. Peyton (in some versions he is Periton) seems to have evolved out of young John Baker of South Fork and John Parke, Jr. He can also be traced to Charles Reade's Put Yourself in His Place, where a rider sped through the night warning isolated farm families that the water was on the way. In most versions of the Peyton story, including the best-known of several epic poems, The Man Who Rode to Conemaugh, by John Eliot Bowen, which was published first in Harper's Weekly, the hero gallops the length of the valley just ahead of the onrushing wave. (The fact that there was no valley road on which to make such a ride never seemed to bother any of the authors very much.) Pale, his eyes aflame, he cries out \"Run for your lives to the hills!\"\u2014then dashes on.\n\nSpurring his horse, whose reeking side\n\nWas flecked with foam as red as flame.\n\nWither he goes and whence he came\n\nNobody knows. They see his horse\n\nPlunging on his frantic course,\n\nVeins distended and nostrils wide,\n\nFired and frenzied at such a ride.\n\nNobody pays any attention to him. They decide he is a lunatic and jokingly dismiss the whole thing.\n\n\"He thinks he can scare us,\" said one with a laugh,\n\n\"But Conemaugh folks don't swallow no chaff;\n\n'Taint nothing, I'll bet, but the same old leak\n\nIn the dam above the South Fork Creek.\"\n\nIn one version published as a Sunday-school lesson in 1891, the messenger goes into a saloon to spread the warning and winds up getting so drunk he can go no farther. But in either prose or poetry, in the end the flood finally catches up with poor Peyton, and nowhere is the moment more superbly described than in a book titled The Official History of the Johnstown Flood, which was put together that June by two Pittsburgh newspapermen named Frank Connelly and George C. Jenks. Peyton, in their \"official\" account, is about thirty years of age, and though he does not come clear from South Fork, but sticks only to the streets of Johnstown (Connelly and Jenks apparently felt they could not quite get away with the valley ride), his message and manner are essentially the same, and his end comes this way:\n\n. . . At last he completed the circuit of the city and started in search of a place of safety for himself. To the hills he urged his noble steed. Tired out from its awful ride, the animal became slower and slower at every stride, while the water continued to come faster and faster in pursuit. Like an assassin upon the trail of his victim, it gained step by step upon the intrepid rider. But the hills are in sight. No, he is doomed, for at that moment a mighty wave, blacker and angrier than the rest, overtook horse and rider and drew both back into the outstretched arms of death.\n\nAs the Reverend David Beale wrote, \"This fate was very necessary to the story, as it rendered an interview of the hero by another impossible.\"\n\nThough the story appeared in a dozen or more different versions and was accepted outright as fact, it was quickly discredited in Johnstown. For there seemed to be no one who actually saw this Daniel Peyton. Furthermore, as near as anyone knew, and according to every available record, there never was anyone by that name in South Fork, Johnstown, or any other place in the valley. Victor Heiser and some of his friends got so interested in the tale that they spent some time trying to track it down. If there were such a fellow, they wanted to meet him; and if he had been killed as people said he had, then they surely wanted to see him get the credit he had coming. But they never turned up anything, nor did anyone else.\n\nStill, with all the stretching of facts, with all the fabrication and bunk being printed, no one seemed to mind very much. If the horror of what had happened was not described exactly according to facts, people knew that what had happened was still a great deal worse than any words could convey, however accurate. And if a few small fables had been called up for the occasion, well they were really no more extraordinary than a dozen other stories that were \"the God's truth.\"\n\nFor the publishers it was one of the headiest weeks ever. Newspaper circulations broke all records. For days on end, one edition after another sold out almost as soon as it hit the streets. The New York Daily Graphic was selling an unheard of 75,000 copies a day. In Pittsburgh there seemed no letup to the clamor for more news. A new weekly picture newspaper called the Utica Saturday Globe, published in upstate New York but widely circulated, increased its circulation by better than 63,000 with its special addition on the disaster.\n\nSongs were written, including one called \"Her Last Message,\" which was more or less based on Hettie Ogle, and another called \"That Valley of Tears,\" which was about a baby who was swept from the hearthside and drowned in its cradle. The last one, arranged for piano and orchestra, closed with the lines:\n\nAnd there midst all that wreck, with cruel waters laved,\n\nThat babe within its cradle bed tho' dead 'tis saved;\n\nSaved from a life of toil and worldly care,\n\nOh! That we could in thy glorious prospects share.\n\nMagazines such as Harper's Weekly and Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper got out special editions filled with pages of pictures and maps. Books were dashed off in a few weeks and rushed to the printers. Before the year was out, in less than six months, a dozen books would be written and published, most of them little more than an assembly of newspaper accounts, full of repetition, contradictions, and abundant nonsense. Several became best-sellers. One, a rousing period piece called The Johnstown Horror, was on sale in Johnstown itself in less than a month after the tragedy.\n\n### -2-\n\nFor Johnstown the result of the journalists' handling of the story was even more staggering. The enormous sympathy aroused by the newspaper accounts, the pictures, the songs and poems, brought on the greatest outpouring of popular charity the country had ever seen. (And this too, alas, the journalists felt obliged to immortalize: \"As the bow of promise gilded the Oriental sky after the Noachian deluge, so the dark cloud enfolding the Conemaugh Valley had a ray of brightest sun light. A great, grand glorious tide of sympathy for the sufferers swept the land like a conflagration, warming men's hearts to deeds of radiant luster.\")\n\nOn the Saturday following the calamity more than $100,000 had been raised in Pittsburgh. By the time they had finished, the people of Pittsburgh would give $560,000. New York City gave $516,000; Philadelphia, $600,000; Boston, $150,000. Nickels and dimes came in from school children and convicts. Churches sent $25, $50, $100. In Salt Lake City thousands of people turned out for a concert given in the huge Mormon Tabernacle, the proceeds of which were sent to Johnstown.\n\nIn New York's Madison Square Garden, Jake Kilrain, who was to take on John L. Sullivan in another few weeks for the world championship, put on an exhibition fight with Charley Mitchell to raise money for Johnstown. (Sullivan was invited to attend the show but did not, and was soundly hissed when his telegram of apology was read by the manager.) At the Metropolitan Opera House, Edwin Booth played the third act of Othello and raised $2,500. In Washington, John Philip Sousa gave a band concert. In Paris, Buffalo Bill staged a special production of his Wild West Show, which was attended by the Prince of Wales. And in Altoona, on the night of Monday, June 3, there had been a benefit performance presented by the Night Off troupe.\n\nTiffany & Company sent $500. R. H. Macy & Company sent $1,000. Joseph Pulitzer sent $2,000; Jay Gould, $1,000; John Jacob Astor, $2,500. The New York Stock Exchange gave $20,000. An old Confederate soldier sent four $100 Confederate bills, and the citizens of Cupola, Colorado, sent a solid-silver brick.\n\nThere were donations from Nantucket ($1,136.93), Yazoo City, Mississippi ($350), and Tombstone, Arizona ($101). The first check to arrive was supposedly one for $100 from Senator Matthew S. Quay, leader of the Republican forces in Pennsylvania; and Simon Cameron, the state's crusty, old Republican boss, who would be remembered as the man who defined an honest politician as one \"who when he is bought stays bought,\" sat down and wrote out what was said to be one of the last checks he ever signed, for $1,000.\n\nThe Hebrew Benevolent Society of Los Angeles contributed $1,000. The United States Brewers Association sent $10,000. The Pittsburgh Society of Spiritualists collected $100. Money poured in from every state and from fourteen countries overseas. The London Stock Exchange gave $5,000. The total donations from Germany came to $30,000. There was money from the Lord Mayor of Dublin, the Mayor of Belfast, and the Sultan of Turkey. Queen Victoria sent her condolences to President Harrison, and from Washington came more than $30,000, including a check from Harrison for $300. (The President had presided over a mass meeting at the Willard Hotel Tuesday afternoon, looking very small and gray as he sat in a big armchair in the center of the stage. He had made a brief appeal for help, during which, according to one account, his voice trembled, and nearly $10,000 had been raised.)\n\nIn all, the contributions from within the United States would come to $3,601,517.80. The sum from abroad was $141,300.98, making a total of $3,742,818.78. And this does not include the goods of every kind that rolled in by the trainload.\n\nFrom Saturday on the relief trains kept coming without letup. Lumber came in by the carload, and furniture, and barrels of quicklime, embalming fluid, pitch, pine tar, and resin. There was a carload of potatoes from Walla Walla. Minneapolis sent sixteen carloads of flour. Cincinnati sent 20,000 pounds of ham. Prisoners at the Western Penitentiary baked 1,000 loaves of bread. From Arbuckle's in Pittsburgh came 30,000 pounds of coffee, and a New York butcher sent 150 pounds of bologna. Wheeling, West Virginia, sent a whole carload of nails.\n\nBy Friday, June 7, two hundred carloads of provisions had cleared Pittsburgh. At the Pennsylvania depot in Johnstown, and at the B & O depot, the platforms and yards were piled with cans of biscuits, boxes of candles, cheese, lamp chimneys and matches, huge cases of soap and canned goods, bacon by the barrelful, and hundreds of sacks of corn meal. People had donated cots, mattresses, hair combs, pipes, pillows, teakettles, tents, cookstoves, and more than 7,000 pairs of shoes.\n\nBy Thursday, the 6th, the day the Cincinnati hams arrived, any fears there had been of serious food shortages were over. The problem now was distribution. Commissaries had been set up and were run with reasonable efficiency. Several women complained that the prettiest girls were getting more than their share, and often people came climbing back up the hillsides with empty baskets after waiting hours in line. But considering how many more there were to feed, things were exceptionally well organized. The Army had arrived the day before, which helped a lot. Hastings had held off calling in more troops but had decided late Tuesday to bring in the 14th Regiment from Pittsburgh (580 men), and now with their white tents pitched in rows where the park had been and on Prospect, the place began to look like a cross between a military encampment and a wide-open mining town. For along with the Army had come another Booth and Flinn gang of 1,100, and with the railroads bringing in their own crews, with more and more drifters arriving, by the end of the week there would be nearly 7,000 men at work in the valley. They too pitched tents or built rough shanties on the hillsides, upon which they hung names like \"Lively Boys,\" \"Willing Workers,\" and \"The Ladies' Pets.\" They were making $2.00 a day, which was good money; and a man with a team could make $5.00, which was good enough to have attracted men all the way from Ohio and New York. And with the pay went \"room and board.\"\n\nEnormous tents served as so-called dining halls, where several hundred men could be fed at a sitting. Coffee was ladled out of a bucket, bread was passed out in big dishpans, followed by more dishpans, each with a ten-pound slab of butter in it. When meals were ready, \"the rush for the table cast the Oklahoma boom all in the shade,\" wrote the Times.\n\nThe men worked hard and made notable progress. By sundown Thursday more had been accomplished than in all the days since the disaster. The air rang with shouts and the screech of nails yanked out by crowbars. Hundreds of bonfires crackled and sent up columns of black smoke where now barrels of resin were being dumped on to burn up dead animals and the worst of the debris. Teams were hitched to mud-bound machinery and dangerous-looking walls that came down with a crash. There were tools enough now for every man, and by midweek a shipment of dynamite along with an expert to handle it had arrived to break the jam at the stone bridge.\n\nSo far every attempt to pull loose the debris there had failed. Locomotives and a steam winch had been tried, and a gang of lumberjacks from Michigan had done their best but had made hardly a dent. The ugly mass had been driven against the bridge with such savage force, and was so tightly ensnared by miles of barbed wire, that nothing, it seemed, could break it loose. Then for several days the valley echoed with the roar of dynamite as slowly, one by one, great gaps were blasted through the entanglement, which, most people believed, still held many human corpses.\n\nThe expert in charge was a man named Kirk, who was known among the press as \"The Prince of Dynamiters.\" He was short, squat, about fifty years old, with a grizzly beard and a habit, when walking, of waving his hands about as if warning people back from his next explosion.\n\n\"He personally superintends the preparations of all blasts,\" wrote the Times man on the scene, \"and when ready emits a peculiar cry more like a wail than a warning. Then he surveys the atmosphere with the air of a Major General and yells, 'Fire!' The yell often terrifies the spectators more than the explosion itself.\" But on Saturday Kirk managed to scare the daylights out of everybody, and with a good deal more than his yell.\n\nDespite the inroads he was making, he was not at all satisfied with the time the job was taking, so he cut loose with a 450-pound charge, hoping to break the jam with one blow. Nine fifty-pound boxes of dynamite were planted at the base of the mass, each set about thirty feet apart. The whole valley and every building that was still standing trembled with the blast. Horses shied violently. Work stopped all over town. And within no time Kirk had been told in quite explicit language by what seemed like half the surviving population that he was to pull no such stunt again. But a gaping hole had been gouged out of the wreckage and at last daylight could be seen under the arches.\n\nSome men became so exhausted from the work that they had to give up and go home. Everyone by this time had grown more or less accustomed to the grisly look of the place, the smell, and the constant presence of death; but the work itself was grueling, and no matter how much was accomplished, there seemed always an insurmountable lot still left to be done.\n\nThe wreckage spewed across the city was far greater in quantity than all that had stood there before the flood. The water had swept the valley above the city of virtually everything that man had built there over some eighty years and dumped it on Johnstown. Now every last bit of it had to be cleaned up, searched through, burned, or carted away. On top of that, sanitation problems were enormous. One gang of workers did nothing but sprinkle disinfectants over the entire district, and as George Swank later wrote, there was \"a fortune for the man who concocts a disinfectant that won't stink the nose off a person.\" Four thousand barrels of quicklime would be used before the cleanup was finished.\n\nAnother gang was detailed to gather and burn bedding, clothes, and carpets which had been ruined by the water. The houses that had not been swept away were left, as Dr. Matthews said, in the most unsanitary condition imaginable. \"The flood water,\" he wrote, \"was heavily charged with every kind of filth, and whatever this water touched it contaminated. As a result, every house in the flooded district was filled, in most cases to the second floor, with most offensive matter. There was not a place which the flood touched where a man could lay his head with safety.\"\n\nOne of the biggest and most unpleasant jobs was digging out hundreds of cellars. Where houses had been swept from their foundations, it was often close to impossible to tell where they had been, the cellars having been so completely filled in by the flood. But every one of them had to be shoveled clean and their foul contents hauled out of the city.\n\nThe work camps themselves were another part of the problem, with their \"open plumbing, openly arrived at,\" as one doctor described it. Within the first week there were something like ninety-eight doctors at work, who, along with the Army, helped enforce basic sanitary practices. But what helped most of all was the weather. For ten days following the flood, temperatures stayed low, skies clouded, and there were frequent drenching rains. It was, wrote Dr. Lee, head of the sanitation board, a \"great advantage in delaying decomposition.\" It was also miserable weather to work in or to be camping in amid the reeking muck.\n\nOn Friday morning Captain Bill Jones was back home in Pittsburgh, close to a state of collapse after working four straight days with almost no sleep or rest. Jones had paid out of his own pocket for the supplies he had brought to Johnstown and the wages of the men he had taken with him. In an interview with the Pittsburgh Press he gave great credit to the leadership Moxham had shown and added that he had had a hundred or so Hungarians working for him and that they had \"worked like heroes.\"\n\nGeneral Hastings held up handsomely against the strain. He rode about town on a big horse, waving his floppy hat, and, in the main, did a good job. Director James Scott stayed on day after day, working with boundless energy. He wound up growing a full beard during his time in Johnstown and lost thirty pounds.\n\nBut perhaps the most resilient worker of them all, and certainly the one who stirred up the most talk, was a stiff-spined little spinster in a plain black dress and muddy boots who had brought the newly organized American Red Cross in from Washington. Miss Clara Barton and her delegation of fifty doctors and nurses had arrived on the B & O early Wednesday morning.\n\nClara was sixty-seven. She had been through the Civil War, the Franco-Prussian War, and several nervous breakdowns. For a while she had tried running a women's prison in Massachusetts. But since 1881, when, after a long campaign, she had succeeded in establishing an American branch of the International Red Cross, little else had been of real interest to her. And though her position as president was only a part-time job, she had already been down the Ohio by river barge to help during the floods of 1884 and to Texas with food and supplies during the famine of 1887. She had taken her workers to Illinois after a tornado in '88, and later that same year to Florida during a yellow-fever epidemic.\n\nBut these had been minor challenges compared to Johnstown, which she realized the moment she saw the valley from her train window. When the news of the disaster had first reached Washington Friday night, she had postponed doing anything for twenty-four hours; the story seemed too frightful and improbable to be true. But once there she knew that her Red Cross had arrived at its first major disaster. The organization, she had long argued, was meant for just such emergencies, and now she intended to prove it.\n\nShe set up headquarters inside an abandoned railroad car and, using a packing box for a desk, began issuing orders. Hospital tents were to be opened immediately, construction was to start on temporary \"hotels\" for the homeless, and a house-to-house survey was to be conducted to see just how many people needed attention. Hastings, it appears, did not know quite what to make of all this, or of Clara. \"I could not have puzzled General Hastings more if I had addressed him in Chinese,\" she wrote later, adding that \"the gallant soldier could not have been more courteous and kind.\"\n\nIn her stocking feet Clara stood five feet tall. She had a prominent nose, bright, black eyes, and a resolute set to her mouth. She took what little sleep she needed on a hard, narrow cot and had no use for demon rum, bumbling male officials, or for that matter anyone who attempted to tell her how to run her business. \"A keen, steadfast, powerful New England woman,\" she was described as by one writer.\n\nWithin a very short time several large tents were serving as the cleanest, best-organized hospitals in town; six Red Cross hotels, two stories tall, with hot and cold running water, kitchens, and laundries, had been built with some of the fresh lumber on hand; and Clara herself was situated in her own command tent with the Red Cross banner flying overhead. When the survey was completed it was found that a large number of people with serious injuries had been too weak or broken in spirit to do anything to help themselves. Moreover, a surprising number of cases of prolonged shock were discovered, a phenomenon that would also be noted by a correspondent for the Medical News of Philadelphia. \"A profound melancholia,\" he called it, \"associated with an almost absolute disregard of the future\" and evidenced by \"a peculiar intonation of words, the persons speaking mechanically.\"\n\nClara and her people did their best to tend everyone they could. Clara herself worked almost round the clock, directing hundreds of volunteers, distributing nearly half a million dollars' worth of blankets, clothing, food, and cash. She also spoke her mind once or twice to the head of the Philadelphia chapter of the Red Cross, with the result that within a few days neither group would have anything to do with the other.\n\nThere seems little doubt that except for Hastings she was the best-known, among the people of Johnstown, of all the outsiders on hand and certainly the one who would be remembered the longest. She stoutly proclaimed that the Red Cross was there to stay as long as there was work to do. \"We are always the last to leave the field,\" she said. She seemed to be everywhere at once, bouncing through the streets in a buckboard, scrutinizing the way things were being handled, whether she had anything to do with them or not. On one such ride she was accompanied by an Episcopal priest who was afraid she would be jolted to pieces and told her so. \"Oh, this is nothing,\" she shouted back, \"so long as we have no bullets flying around us.\"\n\nClara stayed for five months, never once leaving the scene even for a day. In October, when she did finally pack up and go, it was with all sorts of official blessings and thanks. She was presented with a diamond locket from the people of Johnstown; glowing editorials were written (\". . . too much cannot be said in praise of this lady . . . To her timely and heroic work, more than to that of any other human being, are the people of the Conemaugh Valley indebted . . .\"); and back home in Washington a dinner was given in her honor at the Willard with the President and Mrs. Harrison in attendance. The Red Cross had clearly arrived.\n\nThere were others who would be remembered. A few smalltime crooks slipped in with the crowds. They queued up with the flood victims to collect whatever the Red Cross happened to be handing out at the moment or grabbed what they could from the debris. One or two suspicious-looking characters were nabbed before they had a chance to do much of anything and were swiftly hustled out of town. There were some, too, who simply hung around long enough to educate themselves on the place, then lit off to play on the sympathy of neighboring towns, describing the horrors of the devastation and their own heart-rending experiences in the flood at one back doorstep after another. One of them who went straight to Pittsburgh even managed to take the Relief Committee there for a good deal of cash before he was found out.\n\nA handful of crackpots appeared on the scene, most of whom were of the religious-fanatic sort, and the most memorable of them was a gaunt prophet from Pittsburgh known as \"Lewis, the Light,\" who wore nothing but long, red underwear and passed out handbills that said, among other things:\n\nDeath is man's last and only Enemy, Extinction of Death is his only hope. Your soul, your breath, ends by death. Whew! Whoop! We're all in the soup. Who's all right? Lewis, the Light.\n\nThen there were the \"harpies,\" as some of the newspaper correspondents called them, who apparently came in from Pittsburgh. It was reported that a number of them had been seen at points along the line from Johnstown to Pittsburgh trying to recruit girls for \"their nefarious calling\" among the prettiest flood victims. Several who had tried to board the trains had been put off, but enough of them managed one way or other to reach Johnstown, so that within not too long a time Prospect Hill was making its own lively contribution to the mining-camp spirit of the place. Prospect \"is overridden with bawdy houses and places for the illicit sale of liquor,\" one police official said.\n\nThis in turn added fuel to the cause of the W.C.T.U. ladies who had arrived almost immediately after the disaster and stayed on as the valley filled up with more and more men and as the demand for strong drink grew apace. Through most of June, Hastings kept the lid on liquor sales; the only thing being served was lemonade, which was sold at little makeshift stands through town. When, in July, the liquor ban was lifted, the lemonade concessions went immediately out of business. Twenty-two celebrants were arrested the first day, and George Swank wrote in the Tribune that the lemonade had \"made more sickness than all the beer and whiskey that could be drunk.\"\n\nAnd, of course, there were the sight-seers. They had been coming almost from the first morning after the disaster. They came into South Fork by special trains from Altoona. They arrived in Johnstown on excursion trains that chugged in along the B & O weekend mornings. On Sunday, June 23, several hundred arrived, turned out in holiday attire and carrying picnic baskets. It seemed incredible; but there they were. The wreckage at the stone bridge seemed to fascinate them the most. But they strolled about everywhere, got in the way, set up their lunch parties inside abandoned houses, laughed, took pictures, asked a lot of silly questions, and infuriated nearly everyone except a few enterprising local men who set up booths and began selling official Johnstown Flood relics: broken china, piano keys, beer bottles, horseshoes, buttons, even bits of brick or wood shingles.\n\nHastings and the other officials kept asking the railroads to stop selling tickets to anyone who had no rightful business in Johnstown; before the month was out the railroads had agreed to comply as best they could and the number of visitors dropped off sharply.\n\nActually there would have been many more sight-seers than there were had there not been such widespread fear of disease; and though the cooperation of the railroads helped considerably to diminish the problem, the real turn came when it became known that typhoid fever had actually broken out in the valley.\n\nThe first clear-cut case was identified on Monday, June 10. More cases were found in the next several days, but the news was kept quiet. Within a week, however, the disease had spread swiftly and so had the rumors. By July 25 there would be 215 cases of typhoid within the flooded area and 246 beyond.\n\nThe doctors and sanitation crews, already dog-tired, flew into a frenzy of activity, working night and day to stop the thing and to keep the valley from panicking. Considering what might have happened under the circumstances, they did a spectacular job. But before the summer ended, forty people would die of typhoid; and like those who died of injuries or exposure in the first days after the disaster, they would not be included in the official figure given for the flood's victims.\n\nInterestingly enough, along with the typhoid, there ran a long spell of unusually good health in Johnstown. There were fewer colds, fewer cases of measles, and fewer people complaining of \"spring disorders\" than there would have been under normal conditions. Those who managed to stay healthy through the first frightful days immediately following the disaster, stayed very healthy from then on. The regulations and precautions enforced by the sanitation people undoubtedly had a great deal to do with this, but so, most everyone would later agree, did the fact that there was by the end of the first week something almost like a spirit of exhilaration in the air. There was so much happening all around. Every day there was some kind of excitement. Those who had survived, despite how much they may have suffered, began to discover new energy in themselves. They were alive, and bad as things were that was still a lot better than being dead. And there was now so very much to be done.\n\nThere were exceptions, to be sure. Dr. Swan, for example, was so broken in spirit by what he had been through that he would never be able to practice medicine again. And the only fatality among the polyglot army of people brought in to help was a suicide among General Hasting's troops. Sunday afternoon a moody farm boy with a wife and two children back home became so depressed by what he had seen that he went into his tent and shot himself through the head.\n\nBut for nearly everyone else the almost absurd idea that they were going to pick up and start over again, to rebuild everything, began working like a tonic. They started pulling together what was left of their old lives and got to work on the new.\n\nMost of them had precious little left of the old. Dr. Matthews, who had opened a new practice in Johnstown just a few months before the flood, found not a shred of all that he had owned except for one shaving mug. Of George and Mathilde Heiser's earthly possessions, the only thing recovered was a big wardrobe which young Victor retrieved from the wreckage on Main Street. When he pried open the door, he found his father's old Civil War uniform inside, and in one pocket a single penny. It represented his entire inheritance.\n\nMen like Horace Rose and John Fulton had lost their homes and virtually everything else they owned. James Quinn and his brother-in-law were able to recover scarcely a single board from their dry-goods store. The only possessions recovered from the Quinn home were some books, a photograph album, and some silverware, which were found scattered a mile or more from where the house had stood.\n\nQuinn, like hundreds of others, had sent his children off to Pittsburgh to live with relatives, while he stayed on to do what he could to help. But there were a few days before they left which the children would remember always. For nearly every child who survived, the week after the flood was a time of high adventure. The dynamite blasting at the bridge, the commissaries with their wondrous stacks of goods, the mobs of strangers tramping through the streets, the Iron Company's little wood-burning switching engines with their bell-shaped stacks shunting back and forth moving supplies, the nuns, the soldiers, the Pittsburgh firemen in their long rubber coats, were all something to see.\n\nGangs of small boys made great sport of sneaking past the sentries posted about town, or crawling among the rows of tents. Little prefabricated houses, called \"Oklahomas,\" were being put up everywhere, and often, if he acted sensible enough, a boy could get a chance to help out. And every child, it seemed, took up relic hunting. \"Every yard would yield something if one had the energy to dig,\" Gertrude Quinn wrote later. Gold and jewelry were supposedly being found all over town. One story had it that a crockery jar full of $6,500 worth of gold had been found in the mud where old William Macpherson had had his grocery store. Gertrude Quinn's sister Marie found a two-and-a-half-dollar goldpiece. And it was no trick at all to find half dimes or three-cent pieces or even a shirt stud with what looked like a diamond in it.\n\nOn Sunday, the 9th, the sun broke through for the first time since the flood. The spring green of the hills gleamed in bright morning sunlight, and overhead there were only a few small, soft clouds, and all the rest of the sky was a clean blue. Work went on the same as any other day. The air, already warmer than it had been for weeks, rang with the sound of picks and axes, hundreds of hammers, and, strangely it seemed at first, church bells.\n\nOn the embankment near the depot, just back from where Hastings had his headquarters, the chaplain of the 14th Regiment, H. L. Chapman, and David Beale began conducting the first services since the flood.\n\nThere were no more than thirty people gathered at first, but as time passed the crowd grew. Soldiers hanging about nearby drifted over. People came from the depot and over from the center of town. Beale stood on a packing box and told a story about over-hearing a newcomer in the valley ask a small boy how bad things were in Johnstown, to which the boy was said to have replied, \"If I was the biggest liar on the face of the earth I could not tell you half.\"\n\nThe rest of the service went as might be expected until John Fulton got up and started saying things that soon had the crowd stirring.\n\nHe said the Cambria shops would be rebuilt. \"Amen!\" answered several voices. \"Johnstown is going to be rebuilt,\" he said. \"Thank God!\" someone answered again.\n\nHe said he could not speak for the Gautier works, but he was sure, nonetheless, that they, too, would be rebuilt, and bigger than ever. The Cambria men would be taken care of, he told them, and if you still have your family left, he said, then \"God bless your soul, man, you're rich.\" His sermon was simple: \"Get to work, clean up your department, set your lathes going again. The furnaces are all right, the steel works are all right. Get to work, I say. That's the way to look at this sort of thing . . . Think how much worse it could have been. Give thanks for that great stone bridge that saved hundreds of lives. Give thanks that it did not come in the night. Trust in God. Johnstown had its day of woe and ruin. It will have its day of renewed prosperity. Labor, energy, and capital, by God's grace, shall make the city more thriving than ever in the past.\"\n\n\"Amen!\" again from the crowd.\n\nThat Johnstown should be rebuilt was by now taken as a matter of course. That it should be rebuilt right where it was before was also something everybody took for granted. No matter how dreadfully the valley had been ravaged, it was still their home. In fact, there is no record of anyone ever seriously considering the idea of not rebuilding in that particular place. The only question now was how long was it going to take to get things rolling once more.\n\nThe scene on the hillside would be remembered for years. Fulton, tall and spare, with his iron-gray beard and dark brow, certainly looked and sounded like a man of God; but he was also, as everyone knew, the voice of the Cambria Iron Company speaking, and as sincere as he may have been in asking them to trust in the Lord, his audience had had somewhat more experience putting its trust in the Cambria Iron Company. And either way, any man who could speak for both God and the Iron Company was someone to listen to closely.\n\nThe idea that the stone bridge had actually saved lives was a new one to most people, but the more they thought about it, the more they accepted it. The fire at the bridge seemed to epitomize the worst of the flood's horrors, but the fact was the death toll would have been far greater, perhaps even twice as great, had the bridge collapsed. The whole town would have been plunged down the valley to almost total destruction.\n\nBut it was when Fulton began talking of still another matter that a tense stillness came over the crowd and his every word could be heard over the sounds from the city below.\n\n\"I hold in my possession today,\" he said, \"and I thank God that I do, my own report made years ago, in which I told these people, who, for purposes for which I will not mention, desired to seclude themselves in the mountains, that their dam was dangerous. I told them that the dam would break sometime and cause just such a disaster as this.\"\n\nThen he changed to another subject. But he had said enough. In just two sentences he had hit on something that had been smoldering in people's minds for days. There had been plenty of talk about what had happened at South Fork and about the club. People were bitter, and with their renewed energy had come anger, deep and highly inflammable, and perhaps even contributing to that energy.\n\nIt was not that Fulton had been the first to raise the question of the dam and who was to blame for the flood; what was important was that he, John Fulton, had said what he had. The issue was now right out in the open, full-scale and officially. Moreover, there was no longer any question about which side the Iron Company might be on; and, perhaps most significant of all, if things came to a showdown, which everyone felt sure they would, Fulton, it would appear, held a piece of paper of considerable importance.\n\n## IX\n\n## \"Our misery is the work of man.\"\n\nThe excitement in Pittsburgh continued day after day. Johnstown seemed to be the only thing people were talking about, and the papers carried almost nothing but flood news, with stories running on and on, page after page, and in even greater detail than what was being published elsewhere. The two cities had always had ties, through the steel business and family connections. Now almost everyone in Johnstown, it appeared, had relatives in Pittsburgh.\n\nRefugees from the disaster kept pouring into Union Station by the thousands. The sick and the injured had to be cared for. Children, hundreds of them, lost or orphaned, many wearing tags for identification, had to be fed and looked after. Homes had to be found for them and all the others. On Wednesday, the 5th, four trains full of survivors, most of them women and children, came in.\n\nPeople had dropped everything to help. Ladies' groups were sorting clothes and packing medical supplies in church basements all over town. The Masons, the Republican Club, factory workers were organizing, collecting, donating, and proudly announcing their accomplishments to the papers. The involvement grew so that the local merchants began complaining of a serious drop off in trade. \"From a business point of view\" things were the worst they had been for years, according to one report. Several firms canceled their regular newspaper advertisements in order to express their sympathies for the people of Johnstown, and Young's picture store on Wood Street attracted considerable attention by displaying in its window a painting of South Fork dam done a few years earlier by a local artist.\n\nEverybody, it seemed, had his own latest story from Johnstown. A husband had heard from another man at the mill, a brother had just come back from the railroad depot, a cousin who worked at the Mellon bank had overheard something, two sons from the big Italian family across the alley had actually been there with one of the Flinn gangs, and they all had stories to tell, inside information. The city was alive with the most hair-raising tales and rumors. And nowhere was there more talk, or were things in such turmoil, than at the Pennsylvania depot and yards, where tons of food and supplies were still piling up, and the crowds were so thick, any hour of the day, that you could barely make your way through.\n\nThe railroad itself had never known such times, not even during the worst of the war years. Every schedule had been canceled. All normal business had been stopped. Nothing went east but trains bound for Johnstown, and as it was, the traffic was almost more than could be handled. If there had been only the storm damage to contend with, troubles would have been bad enough; but train after train kept steaming in from across the country, men and supplies had to be kept moving, repair equipment had to be sent forward, and everything that went up had to come back by the same route.\n\nPitcairn, with full authorization from the main office in Philadelphia, did everything possible to speed things up. The Pennsylvania had already donated $5,000 to the relief fund, but that was of small consequence compared to what was accomplished to keep the line open. Pitcairn himself worked almost without letup. All available manpower east and west was rushed into the area, and the cost of everything was assumed by the line.\n\nThis was by far the biggest emergency the Pennsylvania had ever been called on to face, and all its extraordinary power, its almost military-style discipline and organization, its vast resources in men and equipment, were brought to bear on the problem. The results, the swiftness and efficiency with which forces were marshaled, tangles unsnarled, damages repaired, help rushed through, were indeed remarkable and left a lasting impression on everyone involved. For all its highhanded ways, for all the evils people attributed to it, in a crisis the railroad had been worth more than any other organization, including the state, and they would remember that.\n\nStill it would be two full weeks until the line from Harrisburg west would be opened and relief trains could start to Johnstown by way of Altoona. Until then Pittsburgh would remain the one channel through which everything had to pass.\n\nThe Allegheny River, with its endless freight of wreckage, also continued to be an immense fascination. Children were brought from miles away to watch the tawny water slip past the shores, so that one day they might be able to say they had seen something of the Johnstown Flood. The most disreputable-looking souvenirs, an old shoe, the side of a packing box with the lettering on it still visible, were fished out, dripping and slimy, to be carried proudly home.\n\nThere were accounts of the most unexpected finds, including live animals. But the best of them was the story of a blonde baby found at Verona, a tiny river town about ten miles up the Allegheny from Pittsburgh. According to the Pittsburgh Press, the baby was found floating along in its cradle, having traveled almost eighty miles from Johnstown without suffering even a bruise. Also, oddly enough, the baby was found by a John Fletcher who happened to own and operate a combination wax museum, candy stand, and gift shop at Verona.\n\nFletcher announced his amazing discovery and the fact that the baby had a small birthmark near its neck. Then he hired a pretty nineteen-year-old, dressed her in a gleaming white nurse's uniform, and put her and the baby in the front window of his establishment. Within a few days several thousand people had trooped by to look at the Johnstown baby and, it is to be assumed, to make a few small purchases from the smiling Mr. Fletcher. Then, apparently, quite unexpectedly, the baby was no longer available for viewing. The mother, according to Fletcher, had lived through the flood and, having heard the story back in Johnstown, rushed to Verona, identified the birthmark, and went home with her baby.\n\nBut there was another subject that was stirring up far more talk in Pittsburgh. It was not until three or four days after the flood that the rest of the country began growing keenly interested in the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, but in Pittsburgh, not surprisingly, the interest had been high since news of the disaster first came through Friday night. And for those who may have forgotten, or who never knew, the nature of the club's membership, the Pittsburgh newspapers were quick to remind them.\n\nIn the beginning there had been some concern over those clubmen who had been at the dam when it failed. But when it became known that they were alive and unharmed, the emphasis immediately shifted to what exactly the other club members might do next.\n\nOn Saturday, at the mass meeting called by Pitcairn, Frick and Phipps had been named to serve on the executive board of the Relief Committee. That night, at the home of another member, Charles Clarke, a number of the clubmen met in private to agree on what their policy should be. At that point, like everyone else in Pittsburgh, they knew very little about what precisely had happened at the dam; but judging from the way things looked, the wisest policy for the moment seemed to be to say nothing, except that no immediate action was planned and that the club would make a donation to the people of Johnstown of 1,000 blankets.\n\nBut, unfortunately for the others, a few members decided to speak their minds all the same. One member, who asked that his name be withheld, told reporters that in the past he had heard questioning about the strength of the dam, but that he had never looked into the matter personally. Then he told a story of riding from the lake down to Johnstown a few years earlier with a driver who had said, \"The time will come when more than you and I will talk about that embankment.\" And he finished up by saying that there were some in Johnstown who used an Episcopal prayer, \"Lord deliver us from mountain floods!\"\n\nAnother member, James McGregor, who gave his name without any hesitation, said he refused to believe that there had been any trouble at South Fork. He was certain the whole thing was a mistake.\n\n\"I am going up there to fish the latter part of this month,\" he said. \"I am a member of the South Fork Fishing Club and I believe it is standing there the same as it ever was.\n\n\"As for the idea of the dam ever being condemned, it is nonsense. We have been putting in from twenty thousand to fifteen thousand dollars a year at South Fork. We have all been shaking hands with ourselves for some years on being pretty clever businessmen, and we should not be likely to drop that much money in a place that we thought unsafe. No sir, the dam is just as safe as it ever was, and any other reports are simply wild notions.\"\n\nHis own notions, which appeared in the papers on the morning of Sunday, June 2, were so wild, and so very tactless in the face of what was by then known of the suffering at Johnstown, that the only possible excuse for making such a statement must have been that he actually believed every word of it.\n\nAnd to make matters worse, he was not alone. Young Louis Clarke next told a correspondent for the New York Herald that there was great doubt \"among the engineers\" who had examined the reservoir whether, after all, it had been that particular dam which broke. Just which engineers he was referring to is unclear, but he was interviewed along with another club member, James Reed, who said that in the past he himself had climbed all over the dam, studying it closely, and that \"in the absence of any positive statement I will continue to doubt, as do many others familiar with the place, that it really let go.\" Perhaps, he then suggested, it had been a dam at Lilly which broke.\n\nReed's comments were of more than passing interest for he was the partner of Philander Knox in the prestigious Pittsburgh law firm of Knox & Reed. If there were to be lawsuits over the disaster, the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club would almost certainly be represented by Knox & Reed. And already the press was playing up the likelihood that such suits would follow. On June 2 the World published a statement attributed to a prominent lawyer practicing in Allegheny County, who preferred to remain anonymous:\n\n\"I predict there will be legal suits with possible criminal indictments as a result of this catastrophe. I am told that the South Fork Club has been repeatedly warned of the unsafety of its dam, and it comes from good authority . . .\"\n\nOn another page the World published an interview with Jesse H. Lippincott of New York City, who was the son of a club member and who had spent several summers at the lake. The dam, he said, was built almost entirely of solid stone, but if it had indeed broken, the death toll would likely run to several thousand, and \"Pittsburghers will . . . be deprived of their most popular resort.\"\n\nThen, on Monday, the 3rd, reporters from Johnstown reached the dam and started sending a series of dispatches from South Fork which removed once and for all any fantasies about the dam still standing; and out of conversations with people in the neighborhood, they began building a history of the structure which did not bode well for the club members.\n\nFeelings were running very strong against the club at South Fork. Monday after dark an angry crowd of men had gone up to the dam looking for any club members who might have been still hanging about. When they failed to find anyone, they broke into several of the cottages. Windows were smashed and a lot of furniture was destroyed. Then, apparently, they had gone over to the Unger farm to look up the Colonel. The reporters later called it a lynch mob and said they were bent on killing Unger. Whether or not it would have come to that, there is no way of knowing, for Unger by that time was on his way to Pittsburgh. There was a good deal of grumbling among the men as they milled about outside Unger's house; threats were shouted; then the men went straggling off through the night, back down the hollow.\n\nThe clubmen who had been at the lake had gone off on horseback, heading for Altoona, almost immediately after the dam broke Friday afternoon, though one of them, it seems, stuck around long enough to settle his debts with some of the local people. He had no intention of ever coming back again, he told them, which they in turn repeated for the benefit of the newspapermen. They also emphasized that the Pittsburgh people had not made things any better for themselves by pulling out so rapidly at a time when, as anyone could see, there was such a crying need for able-bodied men in the valley. Had they stayed on to help, it was said, then people might have felt somewhat differently toward them. This way there was only contempt.\n\nBut it was when they began describing how the dam had been rebuilt by Ruff and his workers that their real bitterness came through, that all the old, deep-seated resentment against the rich, city men began surfacing. Farmers recalled how they had sold Ruff hay to patch the leaks. A South Fork coal operator who insisted that his name be withheld, but who was almost certainly George Stineman, South Fork's leading citizen, told how, years earlier, he had gone to Johnstown on more than one occasion to complain about the dam's structural weaknesses. Reporters heard that the dam had been \"the bogie of the district\" and how it had been the custom to frighten disobedient children by telling them that the dam would break. The clubmen were described as rude and imperious in their dealings with the citizens of the valley. Reporters were told of the times neighborhood children had been chased from the grounds; and much was made of the hated fish guards across the spillway. Old feuds, personal grudges, memories of insults long forgotten until then, were trotted out one after the other for the benefit of the press.\n\nSomeone even went so far as to claim that several of the Italian workmen employed by the club had been out on the dam at the time it failed and had been swept to their death, thus implying that the Pittsburgh men had heartlessly (or stupidly) ordered them out there while they themselves had hung back on the hillsides.\n\nOne local man by the name of Burnett, who conducted a reporter on an inspection of the dam, told the reporter that if people were to hear that he was from Pittsburgh, they might jump to the conclusion that he was connected with the club and pull him from the carriage and beat him to death. \"That is the feeling that predominates here,\" Burnett said, \"and, we all believe, justly.\"\n\nThe plain fact was that no one who was interviewed had anything good to say about the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, its members, or its dam. And when a coroner's jury from Greensburg, in Westmoreland County, showed up soon after the reporters, the local people willingly repeated the same things all over again.\n\nThe jurymen had come to investigate the cause of death of the 121 bodies that had been recovered at Nineveh, which was just across the line in Westmoreland County. They poked about the ruins of the dam, talked to people, made notes, and went home. The formal investigation, with witnesses testifying under oath, was to be held on Wednesday, the 5th.\n\nIn the meantime, Mr. H. W. Brinkerhoff of Engineering and Building Record, a professional journal published in New York, arrived in South Fork to take a look at the dam and was soon joined by A. M. Wellington and F. B. Burt, editors of Engineering News. Most of the reporters remained cautious about passing judgment on the dam, waiting to see what the experts had to say. But on June 5 the headline on the front page of the New York Sun read:\n\nCAUSE OF THE CALAMITY\n\nThe Pittsburgh Fishing Club\n\nChiefly Responsible\n\nThe Waste Gates Closed\n\nWhen the Club Took\n\nPossession\n\nThe indictment which followed, based on a Sun reporter's \"personal investigation,\" could not have been much more bluntly worded.\n\n. . . There was no massive masonry, nor any tremendous exhibition of engineering skill in designing the structure or putting it up. There was no masonry at all in fact, nor any engineering worthy of the name. The dam was simply a gigantic heap of earth dumped across the course of a mountain stream between two low hills. . . .\n\nIn Johnstown on the same day, General Hastings told a World correspondent that in his view, \"It was a piece of carelessness, I might say criminal negligence.\" In Greensburg the Westmoreland coroner's jury began listening to one witness after another testify to the shoddy way the dam had been rebuilt and the fear it had engendered, though two key witnesses had apparently had second thoughts about speaking their minds quite so publicly and refused to appear until forced to do so by the sheriff.\n\nTwo days later, on the 7th, a verdict was issued: \". . . death by violence due to the flood caused by the breaking of the dam of the South Fork Reservoir . . .\" It seemed a comparatively mild statement, considering the talk there had been and coming as it did on the same day as Hastings' pronouncement. But on the preceding day, another cornoner's inquest, this one conducted by Cambria County, had rendered a decision that spelled out the cause of the disaster, and fixed the blame, in no uncertain terms.\n\nThe Cambria jurors had also visited the dam and listened to dozens of witnesses. But their inquest was held to determine the death of just one flood victim, a Mrs. Ellen Hite. Their verdict was \"death by drowning\" and that the drowning was \"caused by the breaking of the South Fork dam.\"\n\nBut then the following statement was added:\n\n\"We further find, from the testimony and what we saw on the ground that there was not sufficient water weir, nor was the dam constructed sufficiently strong nor of the proper material to withstand the overflow; and hence we find the owners of said dam were culpable in not making it as secure as it should have been, especially in view of the fact that a population of many thousands were in the valley below; and we hold that the owners are responsible for the fearful loss of life and property resulting from the breaking of the dam.\"\n\nNow the story broke wide open. \"THE CLUB IS GUILTY\" ran the World's headline on June 7. \"Neglect Caused the Break . . . Shall the Officers of the Fishing Club Answer for the Terrible Results.\"\n\nThe Cincinnati Enquirer said that in Johnstown, as more facts became known, the excitement was reaching a \"fever heat\" and that \"it would not do for any of the club members to visit the Conemaugh Valley just now.\" The Chicago Herald said there was \"no question whatever\" as to the fact that criminal negligence was involved.\n\nAlthough it would be another week before the engineering journals would publish their reports on the dam, the gist of their editors' conclusions had by now leaked to the press. On Sunday, the 9th, The New York Times headline ran:\n\nAn Engineering Crime\n\nThe Dam of Inferior Construction\n\nAccording to the Experts\n\nActually, the engineering journals never worded it quite that way. The full report which appeared in the issue of Engineering News dated June 15 said that the original dam had been \"thoroughly well built,\" but that contrary to a number of previously published descriptions, it had not been constructed with a solid masonry core. (From this some newspapers would conclude that the \"death-dealer\" was nothing but a \"mud-pile.\") The repairs made by Benjamin Ruff, however, had been carried out \"with slight care,\" according to the report. Most important of all, there had been \"no careful ramming in watered layers, as in the first dam.\" But Ruff's work was not the real issue, according to the editors. \"Negligence in the mere execution of the earthwork, however, if it existed, is of minor importance, since there is no doubt that it was not a primary cause of the disaster; at worst, it merely aggravated it.\"\n\nThe primary causes, it was then stated, were the lowering of the crest, the central sag in the crest, the fact that there were no outlet pipes at the base, and the obstruction of the spillway. The details of these matters were carefully described, and it was speculated that the disaster might have been averted that Friday afternoon if the bridge over the spillway and the fish guards had been cut away in time, or if some \"man of great resolution, self-confidence, and self-sacrifice\" had (as John Parke had contemplated) cut the dam at one end, where the original and more firmly built surface would have held up better against the enormous force of erosion.\n\nBut the point the editors of the report seemed most determined to hammer home was that there was no truth to any claims being made that the dam had been rebuilt by qualified engineers.\n\n\"In fact, our information is positive, direct, and unimpeachable that at no time during the process of rebuilding the dam was ANY ENGINEER WHATEVER, young or old, good or bad, known or unknown, engaged or consulted as to the work,\u2014a fact which will be hailed by engineers everywhere with great satisfaction, as relieving them as a body from a heavy burden of suspicion and reproach.\"\n\nMoreover, contrary to some statements made in Pittsburgh since the disaster, they had found no evidence that the dam had ever been \"inspected\" periodically, occasionally, or even once, by anyone \"who, by any stretch of charity, could be regarded as an expert.\"\n\nIn other words, the job had been botched by amateurs. That they had been very rich and powerful amateurs was not considered relevant by the engineering journals, but so far as the newspapers were concerned that was to be the very heart of the matter. It was great wealth which now stood condemned, not technology.\n\nThe club had been condemned by the coroners' juries, General Hastings, and by the engineering experts. The newspapers made no effort to investigate the dam themselves, and only one or two made any effort to present the facts about the dam or to explain even in passing why it had failed. Nor did the editorial writers make an effort to remain even moderately objective until more information became available. The club was guilty, criminally guilty several papers were saying, and that was that. Unlike the Hungarian stories, this one, it seemed, would hold up. It was based on about as solid information as could be hoped for, and in terms of its emotional content, it was perhaps even stronger. Now across the country there arose a great howl of righteous indignation.\n\nFor everyone who had been asking how such a calamity could possibly happen in the United States of America, there now appeared to be an answer, and it struck at the core of something which had been eating at people for some time, something most of them had as yet no name for, but something deeply disturbing.\n\nFor despite the progress being made everywhere, despite the growing prosperity and the prospect of an even more abundant future, there were in 1889 strong feelings that perhaps not all was right with the Republic. And if the poor Hungarians of Johnstown were signs of a time to come when a \"hunky\" could get a job quicker than a \"real American,\" then the gentlemen of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club were signs of something else that was perhaps even worse. Was it not the likes of them that were bringing in the hunkies, buying legislatures, cutting wages, and getting a great deal richer than was right or good for any mortal man in a free, democratic country? Old-timers said that with every gain they made people were losing something. If that was so, people were beginning to think a little more about just what it was they might be losing, and to whom. And the more they thought about it, and especially the workingmen, the less they liked it.\n\nIt would be another three years before this kind of feeling would burst out in the terrible violence of the Homestead steel strike in Pittsburgh and Henry Clay Frick would nearly die of a bullet in his neck. And it would be another several years after that before public indignation over the power of the trusts, the giant corporations, and the men who ran them would erupt into public outrage. But the feeling was there in 1889, and it ran a great deal deeper than most people would have supposed. Certainly the language used by the press reflected a level of scorn and bitterness that would have been unthinkable a decade earlier.\n\nThe South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club was now described as \"the most exclusive resort in America,\" and its members were referred to as millionaries, aristocrats, or nabobs. According to the Cincinnati Enquirer not even vast wealth was enough to gain admission, unless it was hereditary. \"Millionaries who did not satisfy every member of the club might cry in vain for admission,\" the Enquirer wrote. \"No amount of money could secure permission to stop overnight at the club's hotel . . .\" The paper said that no one could visit the club without a permit, and called it \"holy ground consecrated to pleasure by capital,\" but added that no one would want to go there now, \"except to gaze a moment at the Desolate Monument to the Selfishness of Man. . . \" J. J. McLaurin, the Harrisburg newspaperman, who was otherwise relatively reliable in his reporting on the disaster, wrote: \"The club was excessively aristocratic, and so exclusive that Tuxedo itself might pronounce the Lorillard ideal a failure. The wealthy members never deigned to recognize the existence of the common clay of the neighborhood, farther than to warn intruders to keep off the premises.\"\n\nLike dozens of others, McLaurin was also infuriated over the idea that the lake had served as a summer resort. He wrote that \"50,000 lives in Pennsylvania were jeopardized for eight years that a club of rich pleasure-seekers might fish and sail and revel in luxurious ease during the heated term.\"\n\nFor an age which by no means looked upon pleasure as something to be expected in life, let alone life's chief objective, the very fact that the lake had been put there solely for pleasure seemed almost more than anyone could take; and in several editorials the writers seemed to imply that if the lake had served some other purpose, some practical purpose, then the tragedy would not have been quite so distressing.\n\n\"It is an aggravation of the calamity to reflect that the reservoir which gave way served no useful purpose, but merely ministered to the amusement of a gentleman's club composed of millionaires,\" wrote a small-town newspaper in New England. \"The dam served no useful end, beyond the pleasure of a few rich men,\" said the Daily Graphic in New York. And the Chicago Herald published a cartoon showing what were supposedly seven clubmen done up in loud-checked coats and diamond stickpins, tossing down champagne on the clubhouse porch, while in the valley below them Johnstown is being wiped out.\n\nLike several other papers, the Herald likened the clubmen to the Romans. \"These wealthy sportsmen, these pleasure-seekers, sat in a secure place, in the amphitheater, like the noble Roman spectators when they gave the signal when the wild beasts were to be admitted into the arena to rend the bodies of the human victims. The Pittsburgh pagans did not give the signal, but they were just as guilty in the fact that they were told that the massacre was about to occur and made no effort to stop it . . .\"\n\nThe effort alluded to here was the failure to remove the fish guards, which, very quickly, had come to symbolize everything repellent about the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club. \". . . To preserve game for some Pittsburgh swells the lives of fifteen thousand were sacrificed,\" wrote the Herald.\". . . The ghosts of Johnstown are the ghosts of American labor that is dead.\" And a man by the name of Isaac Reed wrote a widely quoted poem which opened with the lines:\n\nMany thousand human lives\u2014\n\nButchered husbands, slaughtered wives,\n\nMangled daughters, bleeding sons,\n\nHosts of martyred little ones,\n\n(Worse than Herod's awful crime)\n\nSent to heaven before their time;\n\nLovers burnt and sweethearts drowned,\n\nDarlings lost but never found!\n\nAll the horrors that hell could wish,\n\nSuch was the price that was paid for\u2014fish!\n\nInterestingly, for all the abuse that was flung at the Pittsburgh people, very few newspapers ever went so far as to mention any specific names of members, and those that did mentioned only a half dozen or so. The Philadelphia Press, for all its superb coverage of what was going on in Johnstown, said hardly a word about the club or its members, and perhaps, as was hinted by another paper, because one club member, Calvin Wells, was a major stockholder in the Press.\n\nAs might be expected, the Pittsburgh papers were extremely cautious about printing anything untoward about the club, or, in some cases, were outright sympathetic toward the renowned members. The Pittsburgh Press, for example, took the position that too much scorn was being heaped on the club, since the dam had been built a long time back and the disaster, therefore, could as easily have happened at some earlier time. The Post-Gazette also felt the clubmen were being unfairly chastised. And Connelly and Jenks, authors of the so-called Official History of the flood, which was being written in Pittsburgh about that time, went out of their way to counteract popular images of opulent splendor at the lake. It was no center of pagan pleasure seeking or vulgar display, they wrote, but a place where the members of the club with their families and friends could \"rough it\" throughout the summer months. It was, they said, a comfortable, homelike place and as different from the \"ordinary fashionable summer resort\" as could be imagined. As for stories of any highhanded ways with the local people, well, \"The place was exclusive only in the sense that a private house or garden is of that character. There was no lofty disregard of other people's rights, nor any desire on the part of the members to set themselves above those around them. The club was a happy family party, and nothing more.\"\n\nForest and Stream, a national fishing and hunting magazine, took strong objection to the \"paragraphs hot with indignation\" that were being published. Such stuff was easy to write, said the magazine's editors, who rose to the defense of the club largely on the grounds that its members were sportsmen who appreciated the beauties of the natural world and so, therefore, were essentially good men. Also, in the opinion of the editors, it was nonsense to condemn the clubmen because their lake was meant for pleasure. \"To maintain a dam to form a lake for pleasure purposes is,\" they argued, \"an enterprise no less legitimate than to build a dam for running a mill wheel.\" If the warnings about the stability of the dam had gone unheeded, perhaps that had been because the members were so preoccupied with the joys of life in the out of doors. And, concluded Forest and Stream there ought to be some compassion for the members, who in their hearts must surely be suffering terribly.\n\nThere were many, too, who looked upon the disaster as a time of the apocalypse. Countless sermons on \"The Meaning of the Johnstown Flood\" were delivered in every part of the land for many Sundays running. One Pittsburgh preacher compared the \"wolf cry\" about the dam breaking to those in his congregation who tired of hearing him on the admonitions of the Lord. Another said that the lesson was to be ever prepared to meet thy Maker.\n\nIn New York the illustrious Reverend T. DeWitt Talmage, using the 93rd Psalm as his text (\"The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their voice; . . .\"), told an audience of some 5,000 that what the voice of the flood had to say was that nature was merciless and that any sort of religious attitude toward nature meant emptiness. \"There are those who tell us they want only the religion of sunshine, art, blue sky and beautiful grass,\" said Talmage. \"The book of nature must be their book. Let me ask such persons what they make out of the floods in Pennsylvania.\"\n\nNot a few ministers chose to talk about the spirit of sympathy that was sweeping the country. The New York Witness, a religious newspaper, went so far as to say there was a \"loving purpose of God hidden in the Flood,\" which turned a great many stomachs in Johnstown.\n\nBut the theme that set the most heads nodding in agreement was the old, old theme of punishment from on high. The story of Noah was read from thousands of pulpits. (\"And God looked upon the earth, and, behold, it was corrupt; . . . And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me; . . .\") This was The Great American Flood; it had been a sign unto all men, the preachers said, and woe unto the land if it were not heeded. The steel town had been a sin town and so the Lord had destroyed it; for surely only a vile and wicked place would have been visited by so hideous a calamity.\n\nIt was a line of reasoning which many people were quick to accept, for at least it made some sense of the disaster. But it was a line of reasoning which met with much amusement in Johnstown, where, as anyone who knew his way about could readily see, Lizzie Thompson's house and several rival establishments on Green Hill had not only survived the disaster, but were going stronger than ever before. \"If punishment was God's purpose,\" said one survivor, \"He sure had bad aim.\"\n\nThere really was never much mystery in anyone's mind in Johnstown about the cause of the flood. George Swank spoke for just about everyone when he wrote, \"We think we know what struck us, and it was not the hand of Providence. Our misery is the work of man.\"\n\nThe Tribune had started publishing again on the 15th. Swank referred to the Pittsburgh men as \"the dudes\" and said that they wanted \"an exclusive resort where, in all their spotlessness and glory, they might idle away the summer days.\" The people of Johnstown, he said, had never had a chance. \"A rat caught in a trap and placed in a bucket would not be more helpless than we were.\"\n\nDozens of Johnstown people spoke out against the dam, telling the out-of-town newspapermen what an awful menace it had been and describing the dread shadow of fear it had cast over their lives, and nearly every last one of them refused to give his name. The one outstanding exception was Cyrus Elder, Johnstown's only member of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, who said that he had never considered the dam structurally faulty and, contrary to what John Fulton was saying, that he knew of no serious concern about the dam among the Cambria Iron people.\n\nHaving lost his wife and one daughter, his home and just about everything he owned but the clothes on his back, Elder had as much cause as anyone to lash out at the club, and certainly not to do so was to go against the temper of the entire town. But he stuck to his position. He admitted that Johnstown people had long been edgy about the dam and said, \"Therefore, if anybody be to blame I suppose we ourselves are among them, for we have indeed been very careless in this most important matter and most of us have paid the penalty of our neglect.\" It was a brave and most unpopular thing to be saying in Johnstown. The statement was picked up immediately by the newspapers. But his line of reasoning was never given any serious consideration by the popular press, though Engineering and Building Record registered surprise that the men responsible for Johnstown's welfare, not to mention the officials of the Pennsylvania Railroad, with all that they had at stake, had not made sure that the lake over their heads was carefully built in the first place and properly maintained thereafter.\n\nThe railroad, for its part, remained quiet about any involvement it might have had in the dam's past, taking the position, no doubt, that its actions in bringing relief to Johnstown would speak a great deal louder and more favorably than any words\u2014which indeed they did. And once the engineering journals had established that the so-called engineers from the railroad who, according to statements made by Pitcairn, had kept a watch on the dam were in no way qualified to make any sort of intelligent judgment, then there was really very little more that the railroad could say.\n\nBut if the club's guilt had been established as far as the newspapers were concerned, there still remained the matter of paying the penalty, and that such a penalty should be paid seemed self-evident.\n\nOne newspaper after another said that the club should have to make amends for what had happened. Not a little facetiously, The New York Times wrote, \"Justice is inevitable even though the horror is attributable to men of wealth and station, and the majority of the victims the most downtrodden workers in any industry in the country.\"\n\nEven the Boston Post, which except for the Pittsburgh papers was about as conciliatory toward the club as any paper, said that the members had better be prepared to pay up. The Post, quite generously, stressed that the members must have acted as most men would have under the circumstances, \"trusting, perhaps not unjustifiably, to others\" with no thought of imperiling the lives of anyone. \"Even if all that is reported as to the construction of the dam proves true, there is the possibility that personally the owners were not guilty of the reckless parsimony attributed to them.\" Still, added the Post, \"If they were unable or failed to cope with forces of nature which they called into action, the responsibility is theirs, and as they have sown so must they reap, even if the harvest is the whirlwind.\"\n\nAnd behind every editorial was the suggestion of what the Sun said outright: \"If they [the club members] should be held liable in civil suits for damages it is probable that many, if not all of them, will be financially ruined.\"\n\nThe Pittsburgh men had by now given some $6,000 to the relief fund, in addition to the 1,000 blankets, but that did not seem to help their cause much. \"As they are almost all millionaires,\" wrote the New York Daily Graphic, \"the sum is not staggering, but shows that, while they were negligent, they are not heartless. . . . Yet they should do more than they have for the sufferers. It was through their indifference that this great disaster was precipitated upon the residents of the peaceful valley. Remorse, if nothing else, should lead them to alleviate to the fullest extent of their wealth the suffering they have caused.\"\n\nVery shortly thereafter several club members did, in fact, give generously; but, needless to say, it was far from the \"fullest extent of their wealth.\"\n\nHenry Clay Frick, through H. C. Frick Coke Company, gave $5,000. The Mellon family, through T. Mellon & Sons, gave $1,000. The Carnegie Company gave $10,000. There were several gifts of $1,000, $500, and $100. There was also one member who gave $15, and there were about thirty of them who never gave anything.\n\nThe members did suggest that the clubhouse could be used as a home for Johnstown orphans, but the offer was turned down with the excuse that the location was too inconvenient. There was also one member, S. S. Marvin, who actually went to Johnstown to see what he could do to help, and contrary to the many warnings published, he suffered no injuries, or even insults, from the people in the valley. Marvin had been appointed to one of the committees organized by the governor. He was in the baking business in Pittsburgh and had already contributed great quantities of bread. At Johnstown he looked about with absolute dismay and said, \"Johnstown is a funeral,\" an expression the newsmen were quick to pick up.\n\nAs for the other members, they grew increasingly cautious about saying anything. Phipps, Mellon, and Knox said nothing at all. Unger, who was staying with his daughter in Pittsburgh, tried hard to play down the importance of the fish guards, saying that they were only a few feet high. He also reminded the reporters that the dam had been originally built by the state, thus implying that the matter of responsibility, if pursued, might become a very complicated piece of business.\n\nFrick refused to see anyone from the press. Except for Carnegie, Frick was, of course, the best-known and most powerful of the members, and unlike Carnegie, Frick had already had his name published in the papers as one of the members. Moreover, he was, after Ruff, the ranking stockholder in the original organization and one of the few founding members still in the organization. In other words, he was one of the few people who had been involved in the club at the time Ruff made his renovation of the dam. So anything he might have to say would be of great interest, and possibly of great importance to how things might go for the club in the courts.\n\nBut Frick was not talking, and it was probably not so much that he was fearful of saying anything at that particular time as it was that he simply did not talk to the press ever, at any time. It was his standing policy. He was a highly uncommunicative sort anyway and, by nature, abhorred all forms of notoriety. He had no trust in newspapers, no liking for reporters, and talking to them, he was convinced, was bad for business. Only once in his life did he break his rule and speak freely to a reporter, but it was with the understanding that he could edit the copy, which he did, reducing a full column to exactly ten lines.\n\nIn the weeks following the disaster Frick made no public statements, nor did he ever in later years.\n\nCarnegie, on the other hand, had much to say, but never anything to suggest that he had had any connection with the club, and almost no one was ever the wiser, since it would not be for another year or more, when the story had been largely forgotten, that a complete membership list was divulged. Carnegie was in Paris attending the World's Fair at the time the disaster occurred. When a meeting of Americans had been called at the United States Legation, by the American Minister to France, Whitelaw Reid, it had been Carnegie who put forth the resolutions quickly adopted by the assembly. The people of Johnstown were to receive \"profound and heartfelt sympathy\" from their brethren across the Atlantic; they were also to be congratulated for their \"numerous acts of noble heroism\" and especially were they to be admired for the way they had \"preserved order during chaos\" through their own local self-government. How much Carnegie then contributed to the 40,000-odd francs that were pledged is not known.\n\nBut as for the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club and any thoughts or feelings he may have had concerning its part in what had happened, Carnegie made no mention of that, and there would be none forthcoming. Carnegie wound up his affairs in Paris shortly thereafter, then left for his castle in Scotland, stopping off long enough in London to visit with the American Minister there, Robert Lincoln, the son of Abraham Lincoln.\n\nReporters in Pittsburgh, meanwhile, had been looking into the financial status of the South Fork sportsmen's association and had found, much to their dismay, that, for all the colossal wealth of the men who belonged to it, the club itself was capitalized for a mere $35,000 and there was a $20,000 mortgage still outstanding on the clubhouse. Since any future lawsuits would most likely be brought against the club, and not individual members, the chances for anyone collecting very much appeared to have diminished drastically. And just to be sure that no one missed this particular point, on June 12 James Reed once again granted the press an interview. Reed was a tall, sharp-faced man, quiet-spoken and scholarly looking. His practice included several of Pittsburgh's biggest concerns, as well as the Carnegie interests. His professional prestige was very high. What he had to say, therefore, was carefully taken down and later read with special interest.\n\nThe capital stock of the club would be the extent of the liability, he declared, if, that is, there were any liability, and in his opinion there was not. \"I have tried,\" he said, \"to divest myself of my identity with the South Fork Fishing Club to see if there could possibly be any grounds for a suit against the company or individual stockholders, and I am free to say I have been unable to find any. If a person was to come to me as an attorney and want me to bring suit against the company for damages resulting from the flood, I could not do so, because there are no grounds for such a suit.\"\n\nThen, in conclusion he said, \"As one of the stockholders I most certainly regret the sad occurrence, and I know the rest do; but I cannot see how the organization can be held legally responsible for the breaking of that dam.\"\n\nBut if he could not, there were others who could. At the end of July the first case brought against the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club was filed at the Allegheny Court House in Pittsburgh, where the club had been originally incorporated. Mrs. Nancy Little and her eight children were suing the club for $50,000 for the loss of her husband, John Little, a woodenware salesman from Sewickley, Pennsylvania, who had been killed at the Hulbert House. The attorneys for the defense were, as had been expected, Knox & Reed, who filed a voluntary plea of not guilty. Then the case was put off for several months.\n\nEarly in August a group of Johnstown businessmen organized to sue the club. They raised some $1,300 to help meet expenses and hired John Linton and Horace Rose to start preparing their case.\n\nLater on, James and Ann Jenkins, backed by some businessmen of Youngstown, Ohio, brought suit for $25,000 for the loss of Mrs. Jenkins' father, mother, and brother, who had been drowned at Johnstown.\n\nThere were also suits against the Pennsylvania Railroad, the most important of which was one filed in September by a Mr. Farney S. Tarbell of Pittsburgh. Tarbell accused the railroad of negligence in the death of his wife and three children, who had been passengers on the Day Express. There were suits for lost luggage, and a Philadelphia company sued for the loss of ten barrels of whiskey, which had been looted from a freight car. This last case was won by the Philadelphia company when a conductor admitted that he had looked the other way when the whiskey was being taken. It was, as things turned out, the only case won by any of those who brought suit against either the club or the railroad.\n\nNot a nickel was ever collected through damage suits from the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club or from any of its members. The Nancy Little case dragged on for several years, with the clubmen claiming that the disaster had been a \"visitation of providence.\" The jury, it seems, agreed.\n\nThere is no account of how things went in court, as it was not the practice to record the proceedings of damage suits. Nor is there any record of the Jenkins case, though there, too, the clubmen were declared not guilty.\n\nIn the Tarbell case the judge acquitted the railroad, also designating the disaster a \"providential visitation.\" And in Johnstown, after nearly two years of preparation, Colonel Linton and Horace Rose urged their clients to give up their suit, saying that it would almost certainly fail. The club had no assets, they argued, and there was no chance of winning unless individual negligence could be proved and that would be next to impossible since Ruff was dead. So Linton and Rose were paid $1,000 for their services and the suit was dropped.\n\nPerhaps the most frustrating attempt to recover some retribution was carried on by Jacob Strayer, the Johnstown lumber dealer, who set out to sue the club for $80,000. The case sat for years, in one county court after another, as the club kept seeking a change of venue due to local feelings. Then after waiting something like five years without hearing anything, Strayer discovered that his lawyer, unbeknownst to him, had settled out of court (taking $500) and had died shortly after that. Strayer next went bankrupt; the club was long since insolvent; and nothing more happened.\n\nHad the Little case or the Jenkins case been tried in Johnstown instead of Pittsburgh, it is possible that the decisions would have gone the other way, though in Johnstown there would have been small chance of finding twelve men to serve on a jury who would have been able to profess no bias against the club. In the judgment of lawyers who have examined the facts of the disaster in recent years, it also seems likely that had the damage cases been conducted according to today's standards the club and several of its members would have lost. It is even conceivable that some of those immense Pittsburgh fortunes would have been reduced to almost nothing. What the repercussions of that might have been is interesting to speculate. Possibly it would have delayed, perhaps even altered significantly, the nation's industrial growth.\n\nIn trying to evaluate why the cases went as they did, it is, of course, important to keep in mind the tremendous power of the people who were being sued. Their influence and prestige were such that few would have ever dared challenge them on anything. \"It is almost impossible to imagine how those people were feared,\" Victor Heiser would say many years later. They were the ruling class. It was that simple. The papers could rail away to their heart's delight (while seldom ever mentioning any names), but to actually strike out at the likes of the clubmen, even within the confines of the courts, was something else again. Practically speaking, the odds against winning against them were enormous, even had the cases been open and shut, which they were not.\n\nFor to prove that any living member of the club had been personally negligent would have been extremely difficult. And in all fairness, it is quite likely, as the Boston Post suggested, that the clubmen themselves knew no more about the structural character of the dam than did anyone in Johnstown. Like nearly every leading citizen of Johnstown, with the exceptions of Morrell and Fulton, they made the mistake of assuming that the men who had rebuilt the dam had known what they were doing.\n\nThey had been told that the dam was properly engineered and properly maintained, and so, as long as everything went all right, they had no cause to think otherwise.\n\nIn addition, there is no doubt that the storm which brought on the failure of the dam was without precedent; or at least that during the relatively short period of time in which there had been some semblance of civilization in the area (which was less than a hundred years), no one had recorded a heavier downpour. So for such skillful lawyers as Knox and Reed to have argued that the whole dreadful occurrence was an act of God would have been very easy, and judging by the outcome, they made their point with great effect.\n\nCertainly in the eyewitness testimony collected by the Pennsylvania Railroad in preparation for the suits it might have to face, repeated emphasis was placed on proving that no one had ever seen such a storm; and therefore if the \"reasonable precautions\" taken by railroad employees such as yardmaster Walkinshaw had turned out badly, it was only because the storm itself was so very unnatural. (It is also interesting to note that Pitcairn, in defense of Ruff's abilities, agreed openly that Ruff had no engineering training; Ruff was a lot better than any engineer, Pitcairn said.)\n\nStill the heart of the matter remained the dam itself, and judging from occasional comments that appeared in the papers, it seems that the club's defense was based on the proposition that the dam would have broken anyway\u2014even if it had had no structural flaws.\n\nApparently that was a convincing argument, despite the fact that several small dams which had been built near Johnstown to supply the city's drinking water had not failed as a result of the storm; and these, significantly enough, had been built under the personal supervision of Daniel J. Morrell.\n\nThe water in Lake Conemaugh, the attorneys for the defense must have claimed, was coming up so fast on the afternoon of the 31st, and would have continued to come up so fast, even had the dam held past 3:10, that eventually it would have started over the top, and once that happened, sooner or later, the best of earth dams would have failed. Even had there been no sag at the center, even if the spillway had been working to full capacity, the volume of water rushing into the lake was greater than what could get out, and so, they held, the end result would have been the same, except that it would have come later, and perhaps at night when the consequences would have been far more disastrous. It was a specious line of defense, for several reasons.\n\nFirst of all, there is no way of ascertaining for certain whether the inflow of water was such that it would have caused the lake to spill over the breast of the dam for an extended period of time had the dam been higher at the center, instead of lower, and had there been no obstructions in the spillway. There is also no way of telling whether there was a drop off in the volume of water pouring into the lake in the hours following the break. In other words, would there have been enough water rushing off the mountain to keep the lake at a level higher than the breast of the dam (a properly engineered dam, that is) for many hours? It seems unlikely. Moreover, it was clear from the engineering studies made, and from photographs taken of the dam after the break, that it was that part of the dam which had been repaired by Ruff and his crew which went out on the afternoon of the 31st.\n\nBut even if it were assumed, for the sake of argument, that the Ruff repairs were as solid as the original dam, that the spillway obstructions did not greatly diminish its capacity, and that there was no sag at the center to reduce even further the spillway's usefulness, there still remains one very obvious and irrefutable flaw in the dam and in any argument in its defense.\n\nBecause there were no longer discharge pipes at the base of the dam, the owners never at any time had any control over the level of the lake. If the water began to rise over a period of days or weeks to a point where it was becoming dangerously high, there was simply nothing that could be done about it. If, on the other hand, the pipes had still been there, as they were up until they were removed by Congressman Reilly, or if new pipes had been installed by Ruff, then through that abnormally wet spring of 1889 the men in charge of the dam, Unger, John Parke, and others, could have kept the lake at a safe level of say at least ten to twelve feet below the crest of the dam.\n\nSo while there is no question that an \"act of God\" (the storm of the night of May 30-31) brought on the disaster, there is also no question that it was, in the last analysis, mortal man who was truly to blame. And if the men of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, as well as the men of responsibility in Johnstown, had in retrospect looked dispassionately to themselves, and not to their stars, to find the fault, they would have seen that they had been party to two crucial mistakes.\n\nIn the first place, they had tampered drastically with the natural order of things and had done so badly. They had ravaged much of the mountain country's protective timber, which caused dangerous flash runoff following mountain storms; they obstructed and diminished the capacity of the rivers; and they had bungled the repair and maintenance of the dam. Perhaps worst of all they had failed\u2014out of indifference mostly\u2014to comprehend the possible consequences of what they were doing, and particularly what those consequences might be should nature happen to behave in anything but the normal fashion, which, of course, was exactly what was to be expected of nature. As one New England newspaper wrote: \"The lesson of the Conemaugh Valley flood is that the catastrophes of Nature have to be regarded in the structures of man as well as its ordinary laws.\"\n\nThe dam was the most dramatic violation of the natural order, and so as far as a few rather hysterical editorial writers were concerned, the lesson of the flood was that dams in general were bad news. The writers took up the old line that if God had meant for there to be such things as dams, He would have built them Himself.\n\nThe point, of course, was not that dams, or any of man's efforts to alter or improve the world about him, were mistakes in themselves. The point was that if man, for any reason, drastically alters the natural order, setting in motion whole series of chain reactions, then he had better know what he is doing. In the case of the South Fork dam, the men in charge of rebuilding it, those who were supposed to be experts in such matters, had not been expert\u2014either in their understanding of what they did or, equally important, in their understanding of the possible consequences of what they did.\n\nWhat is more, the members of the club and most of Johnstown went along on the assumption that the people who were responsible for their safety were behaving responsibly. And this was the second great mistake.\n\nThe club people took it for granted that the men who rebuilt the dam\u2014the men reputed to be expert in such matters\u2014handled the job properly. They apparently never questioned the professed wisdom of the experts, nor bothered to look critically at what the experts were doing. It was a human enough error, even though anyone with a minimum of horse sense could, if he had taken a moment to think about it, have realized that an earth dam without any means for controlling the level of the water it contained was not a very good idea. The responsibility was in the hands of someone else, in short, and since that someone else appeared to be ever so much better qualified to make the necessary decisions and pass judgment, then why should not things be left to him?\n\nIn Johnstown most men's thoughts ran along the same general line, except that it was the clubmen who were looked upon as the responsible parties. And just as the clubmen were willing to accept on faith the word of those charged with the job of rebuilding the dam, so too were most Johnstown people willing to assume that the clubmen were dutifully looking to their responsibilities. If the dam was in the hands of such men as could build the mightiest industries on earth, who could so successfully and swiftly change the whole character of a city or even a country, then why should any man worry very much? Surely, those great and powerful men there on the mountain knew their business and were in control.\n\nIn the North American Review, in August 1889, in an article titled \"The Lesson of Conemaugh,\" the director of the U. S. Geological Survey, Major John Wesley Powell, wrote that the dam had not been \"properly related to the natural conditions\" and concluded: \"Modern industries are handling the forces of nature on a stupendous scale. . . . Woe to the people who trust these powers to the hands of fools.\"\n\nIt was, however, understandably difficult for the people of Johnstown ever to feel, like Cyrus Elder, that they too had been even partly to blame. Practically everyone felt that he had foreseen the coming catastrophe, and if he had not, like John Fulton, actually put anything down on paper, he, nonetheless, had been equally aware of the troubles with the South Fork dam and every bit as dubious about its future. That the members of the club were never required to pay for their mistakes infuriated nearly everyone in Johnstown and left a feeling of bitter resentment that would last for generations.\n\nAs for the club people, their summers at South Fork were over. The cottages sat high and dry along the vast mud flat which had been Lake Conemaugh and where, here and there, like the remains of some prehistoric age, stood the stumps of great trees that had been taken down more than fifty years earlier just before the dam had been built. By July grass had sprung up along South Fork Creek where it worked its way through the center of the old lake bed, and deer left tracks where they came down to drink.\n\nFor some time several cottages were occupied by Johnstown people. James McMillan, the plumber, and six or seven other men moved their families into the biggest of the houses, apparently with the consent of the owners, and, according to a notice in the Tribune at the end of July, the accommodations were as elegant as ever. But the owners themselves never came back, except for one, Colonel Unger, who not only returned, but lived out the rest of his life on the farm just above the remains of the dam. All the other property was broken up and sold off at a sheriff's auction.\n\nIn Johnstown the Cambria works had started up again by mid-July. It would be a long time before the furnaces were working to capacity, but nearly the full pay roll was being met and slowly things began to return to normal. Estimates were made on the total property damage (about $17 million). The banks opened. The Quicksteps were playing again. By August the Saturday night band concerts had been revived and a piano tuner had come to town. There was ice cream for sale; Haviland china was back on the shelves of those few stores that had been spared. A camera club was started, and the plumbers and steam fitters organized a union.\n\nIn September Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Carnegie came to town to see the flood damage, and before he left Carnegie had agreed to build a new library where the old one had been. In late fall the schools reopened.\n\nNew houses and shops were going up all over town. People who had fled the valley began coming back again. The Quinns were back by October, astonished to find how much had been accomplished and how bad the place still smelled. There was plenty of work still to be done, of course, and plenty of jobs, and it would stay that way for a long time. Just getting the place back to where it had been before would take five years or more.\n\nBut there were many who would leave Johnstown after the flood. For hundreds of people, like Victor Heiser, the disaster had deprived them of every meaningful connection with the place. Suddenly they were alone and there seemed no very strong reason for staying any longer, and particularly if they had ever had an ambition to see something of the world. Had his mother and father survived, Victor Heiser would have remained in Johnstown, probably, he would later speculate, to become a watchmaker. As it was, he left the valley within a year, and after working his way through medical school, spent most of his life as a public-health officer and physician, fighting disease around the world. He would also write a best-selling book on his experiences, An American Doctor's Odyssey, and would be credited with saving perhaps two million lives.\n\nThere were others who could stay no longer because of the memory of what had happened. And David Beale was among those who left out of bitterness over an experience during the frantic days which had followed the disaster. In Beale's case it had been a falling out with some of his congregation over the fact that he had turned the church into a morgue without authorization from the elders. There were plenty who rose to his defense, saying it had been the only intelligent and Christian thing to do under the circumstances and that somebody had to make the decision, but there were enough hard words exchanged to send Beale on his way to another charge in another town.\n\nFor years, too, there would be much speculation on how many of those people listed among the unfound dead were actually very much alive in some faraway place. It seemed reasonable enough to figure that some men, suddenly, in the first dim light of that terrible morning of June 1, had decided that here was an opportune time to quietly slip away to a new and better life. And if one of those names on the unknown list was somebody you had been close to, it was a whole lot pleasanter to think of him living on an apple farm in Oregon or tending bar in a San Francisco saloon than rotting away beneath six feet of river muck somewhere below Bolivar. Furthermore, such speculation seemed well justified when, eleven years later, in the summer of 1900, a man by the name of Leroy Temple showed up in town to confess that he had not died in the flood but had been living quite happily ever since in Beverly, Massachusetts. On the morning of June 1 he had crawled out of the wreckage at the bridge, looked around at what was left of Johnstown, then just turned on his heels and walked right out of the valley.\n\nStories of the flood would live on for years, and in time they would take on more the flavor of legends, passed along from generation to generation. Each family had its tales of where they had been when the wall of water came, where they ran to, who shouted what to whom, who picked up the baby, who went back for the horse, or how they had survived the night. Children who were only four or five years old at the time would live to be old men and women who would describe in the most remarkable detail how they had watched the flood strike the city (from a place where it would have been impossible to have seen the water) or how they had looked at their wrist watch at that exact moment (there were no wrist watches in 1889) and read (at age five!) that it was exactly such-and-such time. There would be stories of how grandfather tried to save an ax handle (\"of all things!\") or how Uncle Otto had thrown away his Bible when he saw what had happened. There would also be a great amount of durable gossip and some rather bad feelings about \"certain people\" who had somehow gotten their hands on more than their share of the relief money and how \"their families are rich to this day because of it.\" And at least one Irish undertaker from Pittsburgh was said to have made \"a positive fortune\" out of the disaster.\n\nThere would also, one day, be signs posted in saloons from one end of the country to the other saying: PLEASE DON'T SPIT ON THE FLOOR, REMEMBER THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD. At Coney Island and in Atlantic City re-creations of the great disaster would be major attractions for many seasons. And \"Run for the hills, the dam has busted\" would be a standard comedy line the country over for years.\n\nIn Johnstown three babies born on the fateful day would grow up with the names Moses Williams, Flood C. Raymond, and Flood S. Rhodes.\n\nGeneral Hastings would later be elected governor largely because of the name he had made for himself at Johnstown; and when William Flinn later became the Republican boss of Pittsburgh and a state senator, he made it a practice to remind election-year audiences of the job he had done at Johnstown.\n\nTom L. Johnson, who later gave up a lucrative business career to become the highly progressive (some said \"socialistic\") mayor of Cleveland, would use the flood to make a case for his political philosophy. In his autobiography he would write at length about the disaster and its cause and how charity had vitiated local energies (he was still Moxham's man in this regard). The flood, he would conclude, was caused \"by Special Privilege,\" and: \"The need of charity is always the result of the evils produced by man's greed.\"\n\nIn after-dinner speeches at the Duquesne Club, Robert Pitcairn would recall the services rendered by the railroad and ask if a \"heartless corporation\" could have behaved so. Bill Jones never said much about what he did, though he was quoted as saying that perhaps Johnstown ought to rebuild on higher ground. When he returned to Pittsburgh from Johnstown, Jones had only two months to live. At the end of the summer he was killed when a furnace he was working on at the Braddock mill exploded.\n\nThe members of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club remained silent. The matter of their part in the flood was simply not mentioned, and as the years passed less and less was heard of it. In another generation it would be just about forgotten in Pittsburgh.\n\nThe more or less agreed-to attitude of Johnstown's business people was also that the flood should be forgotten as soon as possible. There was no sense dwelling on the thing. It was bad for the spirits, and it most certainly was harmful to business.\n\n\"It may be well to consider that the flood, with all its train of horrors, is behind us, and that we have hence forth to do with the future alone,\" said George Swank in the Tribune on the morning of June 1, 1892. It was his conclusion to a long description of the ceremonies held the day before at Grandview Cemetery. The whole city had been shut down and close to 10,000 people had gone up to the new burying grounds.\n\nExcept for the plot for the flood dead, Grandview was still very sparsely occupied. It had been started by Cyrus Elder, John Fulton, and others only a few years before the flood and was laid out a good distance from town up on some of the highest land for miles around. The idea was that here the dead would be safe from spring floods. The view was very grand indeed, stretching off in every direction as far as the eye could carry; but the trees blocked a direct look back down into the great amphitheater among the hills where Johnstown lay, and so the city was wholly concealed, and except for the distant sound from the mills, it was almost as though there was nothing even like a city anywhere near.\n\nOn the afternoon of the 31st, with the new governor present, and with Johnstown's first mayor, Horace Rose, officiating, a large granite monument was dedicated to the \"Unknown Dead Who Perished in the Flood at Johnstown, May 31, 1889.\"\n\nBehind the monument, arranged very precisely row on row, were 777 small, white marble headstones.\n\nThe unknown plot had been purchased by the Relief Commission and the bodies moved there from Nineveh, Prospect Hill, and half a dozen other places during the early fall of 1889. It had taken the time since to raise money for the monument and the nameless headstones. Actually, there were not quite a full 777 bodies buried in the plot; someone had decided to set out a few extra stones just to make an even pattern. But the effect on the immense throng gathered in the warm afternoon sunshine was very great. Against the long sweep of grass and the darker green of the bordering trees, the people stood in their funeral best, clustered in a dark, tight mass, strangely motionless and silent beneath the veiled monument. A few steps beyond, the carriages for the dignitaries were drawn up.\n\nThere were several speeches, the longest and best of which was by the governor, Robert Pattison, who, in offering a lesson to be learned from the disaster, said, \"We who have to do with the concentrated forces of nature, the powers of air, electricity, water, steam, by careful forethought must leave nothing undone for the preservation and protection of the lives of our brother men.\"\n\nThen the choir sang \"God Moves in a Mysterious Way\"; the monument was unveiled, and people started back along the winding road that led down into town.\n\nNEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY\n\nJohnstown was still sparsely settled when this map was made about the time of the Civil War. Woodvale (top) and Kernville (lower right) were mostly vacant lots. By 1889 population in the area had tripled.\n\nTHE CAMERA SHOP, JOHNSTOWN\n\nOne of the few surviving photographs of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club shows two lake-side boathouses, boardwalks, a rowboat planted with flowers (at lower left) and several cottage fronts.\n\nDAVID G. MCCULLOUGH\n\nThe Moorhead house, once among the finest \"cottages\" on Lake Conemaugh, stands today at the edge of St. Michael, a coal town that, years after the flood, grew up around the abandoned summer colony.\n\nUNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA\n\nThe heroic \"resident engineer\" at the club, John G. Parke, Jr.\n\nDAVID G. MCCULLOUGH\n\nAt left above, a small railing marks the crest of South Fork dam, the immense ends of which still stand above South Fork Creek. From railing to distant rooftops (the town of St. Michael) was once the northern end of Lake Conemaugh. Large roof is the old clubhouse, only half of which still stands. It is now a miners' bar and hotel.\n\nAndrew Carnegie\n\nFOUR MEMBERS OF THE SOUTH FORK FISHING AND HUNTING CLUB\n\nBROWN BROTHERS\n\nHenry Clay Frick\n\nBROWN BROTHERS\n\nPhilander C. Knox\n\nFROM AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ANDREW CARNEGLE, HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY\n\nRobert Pitcairn\n\nDaniel J. Morrell\n\nFOUR OF JOHNSTOWN'S LEADING CITIZENS\n\nJohn Fulton\n\nTom L. Johnson\n\nCaptain Bill Jones\n\nJOHN AND AUGUST NILSON\n\nA wide-angle view of Johnstown taken on the day before the flood gives the valley a broader look than it actually has, makes the hills appear too low-lying, but shows such principal features as the Stony Creek (foreground), the Cambria works (where the smoke rises at far left), Prospect Hill (the rows of white houses to the right of the mills), and the gap (center) through which the wall of water rushed. Kernville is at right. Johnstown proper lies between the gap and the church steeples, and to the left of the river.\n\nThis view was taken from the same point several months after the flood and shows the extent of damage to the lower part of Johnstown (at left) and Kernville. Not shown are Woodvale (which sits in the middle of the gap), where the whole town was wiped out, or Cambria City. Also, though there are still hundreds of houses to be seen in the main part of town, only a relative few were still in one piece, or standing where they belonged. Green Hill, a refuge for thousands of flood survivors, rises on the right of the gap.\n\nTHE CAMERA SHOP, JOHNSTOWN\n\nWith dozens of displaced buildings and tons of debris piled up behind it, the big stone Methodist church (at upper left in the view above) stands unmoved, looking over the desolation of lower Johnstown (in the far distance) and the dim side of Prospect Hill (at upper right).\n\nLIBRARY OF CONGRESS\n\nA favorite subject for the swarms of photographers who rushed to cover the disaster was the house belonging to John Schultz. It had been neatly skewered by a huge tree and then dumped down near the Point. Six people were in it when the wave hit. Miraculously they all came out alive.\n\nLIBRARY OF CONGRESS\n\nThe photograph above is almost certainly a fake. Though hundreds of corpses were strewn among the wreckage, few were found looking quite so neat and clean as this barefoot \"victim,\" and by the time the photographers arrived any body so well exposed would have been long since removed.\n\nTHE CAMERA SHOP, JOHNSTOWN\n\nA view taken less than 24 hours after the flood shows the Cambria Iron offices (the big buildings on the left) and the swamped ruins of the city beyond. At far right is part of the depot. Two Cambria Iron locomotives stand at lower right, inside the high board fence that enclosed company grounds.\n\nWeeks after the flood, workmen tackle the last remains of the debris piled against the Pennsylvania Railroad's massive stone bridge.\n\nTHE CAMERA SHOP, JOHNSTOWN\n\nIn a view from above the Stony Creek, looking toward the Point (the stone bridge and the mills can be seen faintly in the distance), a slim island of surviving houses stands amid acres of mud and ruin.\n\nCOURTESY OF MRS. GERTRUDE QUINN SLATTERY\n\nGertrude Quinn, at the age of 5. This photograph was one of the few Quinn family possessions to survive the flood.\n\nCOURTESY OF DR. VICTOR HREISER\n\nVictor Heiser as he looked at 19, three years after the flood, when he had left Johnstown to begin his college education.\n\nFor Richard Harding Davis, the flood was the first big assignment in a long, colorful career as roving reporter and author.\n\nBROWN BROTHERS\n\nFor Clara Barton, \"Angel of the Battlefield,\" the flood was the first great test of her newly organized American Red Cross.\n\nLIBRARY OF CONGRESS\n\nWith their houses swept away, their money and belongings all gone, many families \"made do\" in rough hillside shelters such as these, built and furnished with the best they could scavenge from the devastated valley.\n\nAt the center of town, where the militia had set up camp, a young sentry stands guard while a survivor signs up for relief rations.\n\nTHE CAMERA SHOP, JOHNSTOWN\n\nThe body of a child is carried into the Adams Street schoolhouse, a temporary morgue where 301 bodies were recorded in the log books.\n\nAn artist's drawing of the broken dam, seen from inside the empty reservoir, shows the spillway (at far right) and the bridge that crossed it. The breach in the dam was about 420 feet across the top.\n\nHARPER'S WEEKLY\n\nAt the Pennsylvania depot survivors crowd one of the several commissaries set up by volunteers from Pittsburgh and other nearby towns.\n\nBROWN BROTHERS\n\nBROWN BROTHERS\n\nScenes such as the one above were repeated many times, as survivors searched among the dead, or suddenly found a lost loved one among the living. But the illustration above, supposedly depicting the demise of three \"Huns\" who had been caught robbing the dead, has no basis in fact. Popular as they were in the nation's press, lurid stories of rampant pillage and bloodshed were soon entirely discredited.\n\nDAVID G. MCCULLOUGH\n\nAt Grandview Cemetery, on a high hill above Johnstown, hundreds of plain marble headstones mark the graves of the flood's unknown dead.\n\nDAVID MCCULLOUGH was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and educated there and at Yale. Author of John Adams, Brave Companions, Truman, Mornings on Horseback, The Path Between the Seas, and The Great Bridge, he has received the Pulitzer Prize twice (in 1993, for Truman, and in 2001, for John Adams), the Francis Parkman Prize, and the Los Angeles Times Book Award, and has twice won the National Book Award.\n\nCover design and illustration by Wendell Minor\n\nAuthor photograph by William B. McCullough\n\nVisit us online at www.simonandschuster.com\n\"We have no better social historian.\"\n\n\u2014The New York Times\n\n* * *\n\nREAD THE COMPLETE DAVID MCCULLOUGH COLLECTION\n\n* * *\n\n\"A narrative tour de force . . . expert research and detailed, graceful prose.\" \u2014Publishers Weekly\n\n* * *\n\n\"Combines a novelist's sense of drama with a scholar's meticulous attention to the historical record.\" \u2014The New York Times\n\n* * *\n\n\"Rich in revealing anecdotes and penetrating insights.\" \u2014The Washington Post\n\n* * *\n\n\"A full account of Roosevelt's rise to manhood . . . full of irrepressible vitality.\" \u2014The Denver Post\n\n* * *\n\n\"Full of giant-sized characters and rich in political skullduggery.\" \u2014The New York Times\n\n* * *\n\n\"It will entice a whole new generation of Francophiles.\" \u2014San Francisco Chronicle\n\n* * *\n\n\"That sort of work which brings us to the human center of the past.\" \u2014Los Angeles Times\n\n* * *\n\n\"A first rate example of the documentary method.\" \u2014The New Yorker\n\n* * *\n\n\"If you enjoy good stories well told about interesting people and places, you should read this book.\" \u2014The Plain Dealer (Cleveland)\n\n* * *\n\nDOWNLOAD YOUR COPIES TODAY!\n\n* * *\n\nVisit DavidMcCullough.com\n\n* * *\n\nALSO BY DAVID MCCULLOUGH\n\nThe Great Bridge\n\nThe Path Between the Seas\n\nMornings on Horseback\n\nTruman\n\nBrave Companions\n\nJohn Adams\n\nWe hope you enjoyed reading this Simon & Schuster eBook.\n\n* * *\n\nJoin our mailing list and get updates on new releases, deals, bonus content and other great books from Simon & Schuster.\n\nCLICK HERE TO SIGN UP\n\nor visit us online to sign up at  \neBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com\n\n## List of Victims\n\nTotal Number Lost, 2,209\n\nThis list, dated July 31, 1890, is the one printed in the Johnstown Tribune fourteen months after the Flood.\n\nGRAND VIEW CEMETERY.\n\n[Buried in private lots in Grand View.]\n\nAlexander, Arailia K., Broad street.\n\nAndrews, John, Sr., 57, John street.\n\nArther, Mrs. Alice, 29, Water street.\n\nBantley, William G., 36, Third Ward.\n\nBantley, Mrs. Ella, 30, Third Ward.\n\nBantley, George L., 6 months, Third Ward.\n\nBarbour, Mrs. Mary, 25, Woodvale.\n\nBarbour, Florence, 4, Woodvale.\n\nBarley, Mrs. Barbara, 56, Woodvale.\n\nBarley, Nancy, 29, Woodvale.\n\nBarley, Viola, 9, Woodvale.\n\nBeam, Dr. Lemon T., 55, Market street.\n\nBeam, Charles C., 4, Market street.\n\nBeam, Dr. W. C., 35, Locust street.\n\nBeam, Mrs. Clara, 32, Locust street.\n\nBeckley, E. E., 23, Main street.\n\nBending, Mrs. Elizabeth, 48, Locust street.\n\nBending, Jessie, 24, Locust street.\n\nBending, Katie, 15, Locust street.\n\nBeneigh, John C., 65, Cambria.\n\nBenford, Mrs. E. E., 63, Hulbert House.\n\nBenford, Maria, 34, Hulbert House.\n\nBenford, May, 26, Hulbert House.\n\nBenford, Louis, 30, Hulbert House.\n\nBenshoff, J. Q. A., 62, Somerset street.\n\nBenshoff, Arthur, 27, Somerset street.\n\nBowman, Nellie, 9, Haynes street.\n\nBowman, Charles H., 7, Haynes street.\n\nBowman, Frank P., 33, Woodvale.\n\nBowman, Emma, 28, Woodvale.\n\nBrinkey, Dr. J. C., 28, Franklin street.\n\nBrinkey, Elmer, 26, Hulbert House.\n\nBuchanan, John S., 69, Locust street.\n\nBuchanan, Mrs. Kate J., 63, Locust street.\n\nBuchanan, Robert L., 20, Locust street.\n\nConnelly, Maud, 6, Franklin.\n\nConstable, Philip E., 60, Broad street.\n\nCope, Mrs. Margaret, 65, Conemaugh.\n\nCope, Ella B., 28, Conemaugh.\n\nCooney, Mrs. Elizabeth.\n\nDavis, Mary Ann, 40, Woodvale.\n\nDavis, Thomas S., 59, Locust street.\n\nDavis, Mrs. Elizabeth.\n\nDavis, Mrs. Susan, 27, Millville.\n\nDavis, Clara, 8, Millville.\n\nDavis, Willie, 3, Millville.\n\nDavis, Eliza M.\n\nDavis, Margaret, E.\n\nDavis, Mrs. Cora B., 25, Water street.\n\nDavis, William L.\n\nDavis, Willard G.\n\nDavis, Mary G.\n\nDelaney, Mrs. Jessie, 29, Vine street.\n\nDelaney, Mrs. Ella A.\n\nDibert, John, 56, Main street.\n\nDibert, Blanche, 9, Main street.\n\nDixon, David, 40, Millville.\n\nDiller, Rev. Alonzo P., Locust street.\n\nDiller, Mrs. Marion, Locust street.\n\nDiller, Isaac, Locust street.\n\nDinant, Lola, Locust street.\n\nDorris, August.\n\nDrew, Mrs. Mark, 62, Millville.\n\nDrew, Mollie, 8, Conemaugh street.\n\nDuncan, Mrs. Sarah A., 23, Woodvale.\n\nDyer, Mrs. Nathan, 64, Somerset street.\n\nEck, Mary Ellen.\n\nEdwards, Mrs. Annie R.\n\nEldridge, Samuel B., Apple Alley.\n\nEldridge, Abram S., 34, Merchants' Hotel.\n\nEtchison, John, 44, Napoleon street.\n\nEvans, Mrs. William F., 63, Union street.\n\nEvans, Maggie, 11, Lewis Alley.\n\nEvans, Kate, 5, Lewis Alley.\n\nEvans, Mrs. Josiah, 36, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Maggie, 16, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Lake, 6, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Ira, 6 months, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Mrs. Maggie, 37, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Mrs. Ann.\n\nEvans, Sadie, 8, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Herbert, 3, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Pearl, 1, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Lizzie.\n\nFails, Francis.\n\nFenn, John, 35, Locust street.\n\nFenn, Genevieve, 9, Locust street.\n\nFenn, Bismarck S., 3, Locust street.\n\nFindlay, Lulu, 16. Woodvale.\n\nFisher, John H., 55, Main street.\n\nFisher, Mary J., 46, Main street.\n\nFisher, Emma K., 23, Main street.\n\nFisher, Ida, 19, Main street.\n\nFisher, Madge, 10, Main street.\n\nFisher Minnie, 21, Main street.\n\nFisher, George, 12, Main street.\n\nFisher, Frank, 9 months.\n\nFleck, Leroy Webster.\n\nFox, Martin, 51, Conemaugh.\n\nFrank, John, Sr., 58, Washington street.\n\nFrank, Mrs. Eliza, 44, Washington street.\n\nFrank, Katie, 19, Washington street.\n\nFrank, Emma, 17, Washington street.\n\nFrank, Laura, 12, Washington street.\n\nFredericks, Mrs. A. G., 45, Millville\n\nFredericks, Mrs. Sarah A.\n\nFrederick, Edmon.\n\nFritz, Maggie, 26, Conemaugh.\n\nFritz, Kate, 22, Conemaugh.\n\nFronheiser, Mrs. Kate, 33, Main street.\n\nFronheiser, Bessie, 8, Main street.\n\nFronheiser, Catherine, 3 months, Main street.\n\nGageby, Mrs. Rebecca, 74, Jackson street.\n\nGageby, Sadie, 27, Jackson street.\n\nGallagher, Prof. C. F., 34, Main street.\n\nGallagher, Lizzie, 29, Main street.\n\nGard, Andrew, Jr., 25, Main street.\n\nGeddes, George, 47, Woodvale.\n\nGeddes, Marion, 17, Woodvale.\n\nGeddes, Paul, 15, Woodvale.\n\nGilmore, Mrs. Margaret, 40, Union street.\n\nGilmore, Anthony, 8, Union street.\n\nGilmore, Llewelyn, 6, Union street.\n\nGilmore, Willy, 4, Union street.\n\nGilmore, Clara, 2, Union street.\n\nGolde, Mrs. Henry, 32, Walnut street.\n\nGriffin, Mary, 47, Walnut street.\n\nHager, Mary E., 33, Washington street.\n\nHager, Mrs. Emma.\n\nHamilton, Jacob, 70, Bedford street.\n\nHamilton, Jessie, 30, Bedford street.\n\nHamilton, Laura, 24, Bedford street.\n\nHamilton, Alex, Jr., 35, Locust street.\n\nHamilton, Mrs. Alex, 30, Locust street.\n\nHamilton, Marion, Locust street.\n\nHamilton, Louther J.\n\nHammer, George K., 19, Moxham.\n\nHarris, Mrs. William T.\n\nHarris, John, 3, Market street.\n\nHarris, Margaret, 47, Market street.\n\nHarris, Wm. L., 23, Market street.\n\nHarris, Winnie, 21, Market street.\n\nHarris, Maggie A., 19, Market street.\n\nHarris, Sarah, 16, Market street.\n\nHarris, Frank, 12, Market street.\n\nHaynes, Walter B., 22, Horner street.\n\nHaynes, Laura C., 20, Horner street.\n\nHennekamp, Rebecca, 24, Franklin street.\n\nHennekamp, Oscar E., 2, Franklin street.\n\nHennekamp, S. E., 27, Lincoln street.\n\nHeidenthal, Harry R.\n\nHeiser, George, 50, Washington street.\n\nHeiser, Mrs. George, 48, Washington street.\n\nHelsel, George, 16, Johns street.\n\nHite, Mrs. Ella, 37, Somerset street.\n\nHochstein, Henry, 30, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Benjamin F., 56, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Mrs. Mary, 43, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Bertha, 19, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Minnie, 16, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Marion, 14, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Florence, 10, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Joseph, 8, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Helen, 4, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Freda, 1, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Mrs. Mary, 41, Washington street.\n\nHohnes, Mrs. Ann, 24, Conemaugh.\n\nHohnes, Mrs. Elizabeth, 80, Lincoln street.\n\nHohnes, Julia, 18, Conemaugh.\n\nHollen, Charles.\n\nHowe, Thomas J., Bedford street.\n\nHowells, William, 59, Union street.\n\nHowells, Maggie, 23, Union street.\n\nHowells, Mrs. Ann.\n\nHughes, Maggie, 22, Sugar Alley.\n\nHughes, Evan, 57, Sugar Alley.\n\nHumm, Geo. C., Merchants' Hotel.\n\nHumphreys, William, 18, Levergood street.\n\nJacobs, Lewis, 41, Cambria City.\n\nJames, Mrs. Ellen M., 42, Main street.\n\nJames, Mollie, 13, Market street.\n\nJones, Mary J.\n\nJones, Reuben, 1, Main street.\n\nJones, James, 32, Conemaugh.\n\nJones, Ann, 9, Conemaugh.\n\nJones, Mrs. W. W.\n\nJones, Edgar R.\n\nJones, Mrs. Mary A., 52, Pearl street.\n\nJones, Eliza, 15, Pearl street.\n\nKarns, Joseph, 50, Locust street.\n\nKeedy, Harry C., 30, Millville.\n\nKeedy, Mrs. Mary, 32, Millville.\n\nKegg, William E., 17, Locust street.\n\nKeiper, Essie J., 24, Franklin.\n\nKeiper, Ralph, 5 months, Franklin.\n\nKennedy, H. D., 32, Stonycreek street.\n\nKeyser, Mrs. John.\n\nKeyser, Ralph.\n\nKeighly, Mary L., 52, Main street.\n\nKidd, Joshua, 65, Walnut street.\n\nKidd, Mrs. Sarah, 60, Walnut street.\n\nKirkbride, Mahlon, 33, Hager Block.\n\nKirkbride, Mrs. Ida, 30, Hager Block.\n\nKirkbride, Luida, 8, Hager Block.\n\nKirlin, Thomas, 40, Conemaugh street.\n\nKirlin, Eddie, 12, Conemaugh street.\n\nKirlin, Frank, 5, Conemaugh street.\n\nKnorr, Mrs. Mary, 45, Jackson street.\n\nKnorr, Emma, 16, Jackson street.\n\nKnorr, Bertha, 14, Jackson street.\n\nKnox, Mrs. Thomas, 45, Somerset street.\n\nKoenstyl, Samuel.\n\nKratzer, Mrs. Mary, Market street.\n\nKuntz, Wade, 21, Morris street\n\nLambreski, Mrs. Barbara, 35, Cambria.\n\nLambreski, Mary, 6, Cambria.\n\nLambreski, John, 4, Cambria.\n\nLayton, Mrs. Elvira.\n\nLayton, William, 58, Broad street.\n\nLayton, Mrs. William, 53, Broad street.\n\nLayton, May, 22, Broad street.\n\nLayton, David, Broad street.\n\nLayton, Ella, Broad street.\n\nLee, Dr. J. K., 48, Main street.\n\nLeitenberger, Mrs. Leah, 68, Vine street.\n\nLeitenberger, Nancy, 48, Vine street.\n\nLeitenberger, Ella, 35, Vine street.\n\nLeitenberger, Eliza, 46, Vine street.\n\nLenhart, Samuel, 58, Clinton street.\n\nLenhart, Mrs. Mary, 56, Clinton street.\n\nLenhart, Annie E., 20, Clinton street.\n\nLenhart, Emma J., 17, Clinton street.\n\nLenhart, Katie M., 13, Clinton street.\n\nLewis, Mrs. Ann.\n\nLewis, Ananias, 41, Millville.\n\nLevergood, Mrs. Jane, 75, Bedford street.\n\nLevergood, Lucy, 45, Bedford street.\n\nLewis, Orrie P., 6, Millville.\n\nLewis, James.\n\nLinton, Minnie, 20, Lincoln street.\n\nLitz, Mrs. John, 74, Morris street.\n\nLlewellyn, Mrs. Margaret, 37, Walnut street.\n\nLlewellyn, Annie, 5, Walnut street\n\nLlewellyn, Sadie, 8, Walnut street\n\nLlewellyn, Herbert, 3, Walnut street.\n\nLlewellyn, Pearl, 1, Walnut street.\n\nLuckhart, Louis, 69, Main street.\n\nLuckhart, Mrs. Adolph, 26, Main street.\n\nLudwig, Charles.\n\nLudwig, Henry G., 34, Bedford street.\n\nLudwig, Mrs. Kate, 35, Bedford street.\n\nMangus, Martha.\n\nMarbourg, Dr. H. W., 56, Market street.\n\nMcDowell, Geo., 29, Pearl street.\n\nMcDowell, Mrs. Agnes, 33, Pearl street.\n\nMcDowell, Lilly, 3, Pearl street.\n\nMcDowell, Georgia.\n\nMcClelland, Mrs. Jennie, 34, Sherman street.\n\nMcConaghy, Mrs. Kate, 68.\n\nMcConaughy, James P., 72, Walnut street.\n\nMcConaughy, Mrs. Caroline M., 65, Walnut street.\n\nMcConaughy, Wallace, 25, Walnut street.\n\nMcConaghy, Robert W.\n\nMcKee, John, 21, Bedford street.\n\nMcKinstry, Mrs. Mary C., 45, Hager Block.\n\nMcKinstry, Annie R., 14, Hager Block.\n\nMcVay, Lizzie, 20, Locust street\n\nMerle, Elmer E.\n\nMoore, Mrs. Charlotte L.\n\nMeyers, Mrs. Elizabeth, 55, Washington street.\n\nMeyers, Mary, 24, Washington street.\n\nMeyers, Mrs. Catherine, 31, Millville.\n\nMeyers, John, 3, Millville.\n\nMiller, Jessie B., 16, Somerset street.\n\nMorgan, Mrs. Charlotte, 49, Millville.\n\nMorgan, Martha, 13, Millville.\n\nMorgan, Minnie, 4, Millville.\n\nMurr, Charles, 41, Washington street.\n\nMurr, Maggie, 14, Washington street.\n\nMusser, Charles, 23, Main street.\n\nNixon, Mrs. Elizabeth, 39, Woodvale.\n\nNixon, Emma R., 16, Woodvale.\n\nNixon, Eddie, 8, Woodvale.\n\nNoro, Kate.\n\nOwens, Gladies, 5 months, Conemaugh street.\n\nOwens, Thomas, 10, Conemaugh street.\n\nOwens, William, 65, Market street.\n\nOwens, Annie.\n\nOwens, Mrs. Mary Ann, 31, Conemaugh street.\n\nOwens, Mary, 8, Conemaugh street.\n\nOyler, Mrs. Mary R., 27, Woodvale.\n\nOyler, John R., 6, Woodvale.\n\nParke, Mrs. Agnes J., 56, Bedford street.\n\nParke, William E., Bedford street.\n\nParsons, Mrs. Eva M., 23, Locust street.\n\nPenrod, William H., 59, Conemaugh.\n\nPeyton, John W., 65, Clinton street.\n\nPeyton, George A., 19, Clinton street.\n\nPeyton, Marcellus K., 16, Clinton street.\n\nPeyton, Julia F., 13, Clinton street.\n\nPhillips, Mrs. Jane M., 68, Market street.\n\nPike, William W., 50, Haynes street.\n\nPike, William W., Jr., 15, Haynes street.\n\nPike, S. Bowen, 10, Haynes street.\n\nPoland, Walter, 5, Market street.\n\nPoland, Frederick, 3, Market street.\n\nPotter, Joseph R., 63, Woodvale.\n\nPotter, Mrs. Sarah, 59, Woodvale.\n\nPotter, Nora G., 17, Woodvale.\n\nPotts, Miss Jane E., 47, Walnut street.\n\nPowell, Richard, 4 weeks, Vine street.\n\nPowell, George, 1\u00bd, Vine street.\n\nPritchard, Henry, 62, Market street.\n\nProsser, Fannie, 22, Market street.\n\nProsser, Bessie, 19, Market street.\n\nProsser, Maria.\n\nPurse, Mary L., Market street.\n\nRaab, George, 44, Clinton street.\n\nRabb, Mrs. George, 88, Clinton street.\n\nRabb, Norma, 16, Clinton street.\n\nRaab, Lizzie, 24, Washington street.\n\nRaab, Emilia, 20, Washington street.\n\nRaab, John C.\n\nRaab, Ella.\n\nRainey, Mrs. Lizzie L., 25, Bedford street.\n\nRainey, Parke, 1\u00bd, Bedford street.\n\nRandolph, George F., 26, Beaver Falls.\n\nReibert, Julius, Washington street.\n\nReese, Sarah, 10, Conemaugh street.\n\nReese, John, 2, Conemaugh street.\n\nReese, Mrs. J. W. Reese, Samuel.\n\nReese, Idris, 3, Vine street.\n\nReese, Gertie.\n\nReese, Mrs. Mary D., 74, Market street.\n\nRepp, Mrs. Catherine, 26, Sherman street.\n\nRhodes, Link, 26, Somerset street.\n\nRhodes, Ellen, 20, Somerset street.\n\nRhodes, Clarence, 10 months, Somerset street.\n\nRipple, Jackson, 34, Apple alley.\n\nRoberts, Howard J., 59, Walnut street.\n\nRoberts, Mrs. Howard J., 50, Walnut street.\n\nRoberts, Otis, 23, Walnut street.\n\nRoberts, Mrs. Lucinda H., 81, Main street.\n\nRobinson, Thomas, 60, Woodvale.\n\nRodgers, Mrs. D. L.\n\nRodgers, Mrs. Rose, 48, Millville.\n\nRoland, Louis, 31, Conemaugh.\n\nRoland, Lizzie, 29, Conemaugh.\n\nRosensteel, James M., 50, Woodvale.\n\nRose, Harry G., 29, Locust street.\n\nRoth, Mrs. Kate, 27, Bedford street.\n\nRoth, John, 38, Potts street.\n\nSchoff, Mrs. E. T., 32, Clinton street.\n\nSchotz, Mrs. Elizabeth, 63, Union street.\n\nSchotz, Annie, 23, Union street.\n\nSchotz, Jennie, 21, Union street.\n\nSchubert, C. T., 39, Stonycreek street.\n\nSeibert, Henry, 58, Woodvale.\n\nShaffer, Jacob, 47, Cambria.\n\nShulteis, Henry, 26, Potts street.\n\nShumaker, John S., 11, Locust street.\n\nShumaker, Edith M., 7, Locust street.\n\nShumaker, Irene G., 5, Locust street.\n\nShumaker, Walter S., 2, Locust street.\n\nSlick, George R., 60, Stonycreek street.\n\nSmith, Mr., 54, Cambria.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Sarah, 72, Walnut street.\n\nStremel, Julius R., 21, Washington street.\n\nStreum, John, 63, Locust street.\n\nStufft, J. Wesley, 37, Woodvale.\n\nStufft, Mrs. J. W., 39, Woodvale.\n\nSuder, Homer, 7. Millville.\n\nSt. John, Dr. C. P., 32, Hulbert House.\n\nStophel, Mrs. Maggie, 21, Baumer street.\n\nStophel, Frank Earl, 4, Baumer street.\n\nStophel, Bertha, Hulbert House.\n\nSwank, Mrs Ella, 29, Main street.\n\nSwank, Jennie, 15, Bedford street.\n\nSwank, Jacob, 61, Bedford street.\n\nSwank, Mrs. Catherine, 57, Bedford street.\n\nSwank, Maud, 11, Napoleon street.\n\nSwank, Fred B., 10, Bedford street.\n\nSwank, Susan, 8, Napoleon street.\n\nSwank, Mrs. Neff, 31, Napoleon street.\n\nSwank, Samuel, 5, Napoleon street.\n\nSwank, Edna, 3, Napoleon street.\n\nStatler, Mrs. Amelia, 51, Park Place.\n\nStatler, May, 23, Park Place.\n\nStatler, Frank E., 17, Park Place.\n\nTeeter, Mrs. Mary, 83, Locust street.\n\nTittle, Cyrus P., 53, Broad street.\n\nTradenick, Edward, 18, Union street.\n\nTurner, May, 15, Main street.\n\nTyler, Jno. T., 29, Stonycreek Township.\n\nThoburn, Thomas, 17, Millville.\n\nThoburn, Jennie, 7, Millville.\n\nThomas, Mrs. Mary A., 39, King street.\n\nThomas, Ida, 7, King street.\n\nUnverzagt, George, Sr., 67, Main street.\n\nUnverzagt, George, Jr., Main street.\n\nUpdegraff, Samuel, 15, Woodvale.\n\nViering, Mrs. Louisa, 38, Conemaugh.\n\nViering, Lizzie, 20, Conemaugh.\n\nViering, Henry, 14, Conemaugh.\n\nViering, Herman, 1, Conemaugh.\n\nVinton, Margaret, 8, Jeannette, Pa.\n\nVon Alt, Mrs. Catherine, 80, Washington street.\n\nWagoner, Dr. George, 63, Market street.\n\nWagoner, Lizzie, 20, Market street.\n\nWagoner, Mrs. Mary L.\n\nWagoner, Frances E., 18, Market street.\n\nWagoner, Cora M., Market street.\n\nWenner, Carl, 32, Locust street.\n\nWenner, Mrs., Locust street.\n\nWenner, Mary, 1, Locust street.\n\nWeaver, Mrs. Sue D., 27, Market street.\n\nWeaver, Martha B., 15 months, Market street.\n\nWeakland, John W., 30, Napoleon street.\n\nWerry, Thomas Albert, 17, Chestnut street.\n\nWhite, Mrs. Mima.\n\nWhite, Mrs. Ella, 34, Union street.\n\nWhite, Mrs. Margaret E.\n\nWhite, Mary P., 20, Market street.\n\nWhite, Maggie, 31, Union street.\n\nWild, Jacob, 72, Main street.\n\nWild, Mrs. Jacob, 58, Main street.\n\nWild, Bertha, 16, Main street.\n\nWilliams, Maggie, 26, Lewis alley.\n\nWilliams, Joseph M., 22, Conemaugh street.\n\nWilliams, William J., Union street.\n\nWilliams, Carrie E., 20, Woodvale.\n\nWorthington, Mrs. Richard, 28, Conemaugh st.\n\nWorthington, Richard, Jr., 1, Conemaugh st.\n\nWorthington, Mamie, 7, Conemaugh street.\n\nWorthington, Annie, 4, Conemaugh street.\n\nYoung, Katie.\n\nYoung, Emil, 48, Levergood street.\n\nYoung, Frank, 16, Levergood street.\n\nYoung, August, 29, Main street.\n\nYoung, Andrew C., 36, Broad street.\n\nZimmerman, Emma, 16, Bedford street.\n\nZimmerman, Theo. F., 34, Locust street.\n\nSANDYVALE CEMETERY.\n\nAbler, August, 28, Conemaugh.\n\nAbler, Mrs. Louisa, 31, Conemaugh.\n\nAbler, George, 11, Conemaugh.\n\nBaldwin, George, 69, Apple alley.\n\nBishop, Charles, 45, Woodvale.\n\nBrindle, Mollie, 25, Conemaugh.\n\nClark, John.\n\nDavis.\n\nDavis.\n\nDavis.\n\nEberle, Joseph, 63, Conemaugh.\n\nForbes, Mrs. Rachael, 38, Pearl street.\n\nForbes, Harry E., 10, Pearl street.\n\nFredericks, Mrs. Annie E., 78, Vine street.\n\nGray, S. Taylor, 37, Woodvale.\n\nGallagher, C. F.\n\nGallagher, Mrs. C. F.\n\nGreenwood.\n\nGreenwalt, Mrs.\n\nGreenwalt, child.\n\nGiven, Jane, Millville.\n\nGiven, Benj. F., Millville.\n\nGreenwood, Jennie, 17, Cambria.\n\nGreenwood, Geo., 55, Cambria.\n\nHammer, Daniel, Railroad street.\n\nHesselbein, Chas., 27, Conemaugh.\n\nHesselbein, Lewis, 23, Conemaugh.\n\nHite, Samuel, 26, Woodvale.\n\nHoffman, Gottfried, 40, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Harry, 6, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Daniel.\n\nHoffman, Godfrey, 41, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Lizzie, 16, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Mrs. Conrad, 38, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Charles B., 16, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Willie, 15, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Annie, 11, Market street.\n\nHughes, Emma, 26, Potts street.\n\nJones, Thomas, 50, Woodvale.\n\nJones, Mary W., 21, Woodvale.\n\nJones, Richard, 46, Woodvale.\n\nJones, child of Richard, Woodvale.\n\nJones, Clara. 6, Woodvale.\n\nKimpel, Christ., 47, Clinton street.\n\nKnee, Geo. D., 54, Conemaugh.\n\nMeyers, Mrs. Mary, 69, Cambria.\n\nMorgan, Job, 50, Walnut street.\n\nMcClarren, Samuel, 49, Cambria.\n\nMcClarren, Mrs. Jane, 42, Cambria.\n\nMcClarren, Smith, 22, Cambria.\n\nMcClarren, Jno. J., 19, Cambria.\n\nMcClarren, James, 4, Cambria.\n\nPeppler, Wm., 20, Conemaugh.\n\nRaab, Geo. C., 28, Washington street\n\nReese.\n\nReese.\n\nReese.\n\nReese.\n\nRecke, Alex., 35, Washington street.\n\nScheetz, Jacob, 61, Clinton street.\n\nSchnable, Conrad, 38, Baumer street.\n\nSchnable, John, 20, Main street.\n\nStahr, Fred.\n\nStrayer, Mrs. Elizabeth, 47, Market street.\n\nStrayer, Cora, 17, Market street.\n\nStrayer, Bertha, Market street.\n\nTeeter, Mrs. Thomas, Mrs. Edward, Woodvale.\n\nThomas, Edward, 49, Woodvale.\n\nThomas, Lydia, 12, Woodvale.\n\nThomas, Frank, 8, Woodvale.\n\nTross, Mrs. Margaret, 39, Woodvale.\n\nUnverzagt, Lizzie, Washington street.\n\nUnverzagt, Minnie, 27, Washington street.\n\nWill, Casper, 45, Bedford street.\n\nWier, Frank A., 18, Cambria.\n\nWillower, Miss Bella, Somerset street.\n\nWehn, Mrs. Rachel, 57, Main street.\n\nLOWER YODER CATHOLIC CEMETERY.\n\nBlair, Mrs., 50, Woodvale.\n\nBopp, Jacob, 32, Broad street.\n\nBracken, Katie, 21, Woodvale.\n\nBracken, Minnie, 19, Woodvale.\n\nBridges, Chas., 2, Cambria.\n\nBridges, Emma, 18, Cambria.\n\nBrown, Peter, 65, Woodvale.\n\nBrown, Thomas, 24, Woodvale.\n\nBrown, Emma, 20, Woodvale.\n\nBrown, Gertrude, 17, Woodvale.\n\nByrne, John, 32, Hulbert House.\n\nByrne, Ella, 24, Hulbert House.\n\nCarroll, Mrs. Bridget, 70, Conemaugh.\n\nCarroll, Thomas, 30, Conemaugh.\n\nCarroll, Rose, 20, Conemaugh.\n\nClark, Mrs. J. B., 39, Conemaugh.\n\nCronin, Daniel, 50, Vine street.\n\nCullen, James, 55, Cambria.\n\nCullen, Mrs. Ann, 50, Cambria.\n\nCullen, Mrs. Alice, 48, Cambria.\n\nCullen, Annie, 20,| }| Pro'bly dupl'ted  \n---|---|---  \nCullen, Annie, 20,  \n{| Cambria.  \n---|---  \nLocust st.\n\nCush, Mrs. Ann, 55, Cambria.\n\nCush, Daniel, 33, Cambria.\n\nCush, Joseph, 19, Cambria.\n\nCush, Mrs. Tillie, 20, Cambria.\n\nDaily, Mrs. Ann, 60, Locust street.\n\nDaily, Frank, 30, Locust street.\n\nDegnan, Mrs. Mary, 60, Cambria.\n\nDowns, Mrs. Catherine, 55, Millville.\n\nDowns, Mary, 32, Millville.\n\nDowns, Katie, 28, Millville.\n\nDowling, Mrs. Catherine, 42, Market street.\n\nDowling, Mary E., 21, Market street.\n\nDunn, Mary Ann, 25, Prospect.\n\nEarly, Mary, 22, Woodvale.\n\nFitzpatrick, Mrs. Peter, 28, Cambria.\n\nFitzpatrick, Ella, 6, Cambria.\n\nFitzpatrick, Mary, 3, Cambria.\n\nFitzharris, Christ, 42, Franklin street.\n\nFitzharris, Mrs. Margaret, 40, Franklin street.\n\nFitzharris, Christ, Jr., 14, Franklin street.\n\nFitzharris, John, Jr., 12, Franklin street.\n\nFitzharris, Maggie M., 9, Franklin street.\n\nFitzharris, Gertie, 5, Franklin street.\n\nFitzharris, Katie, 7, Franklin street.\n\nGaffney, Catherine, 2, Cambria.\n\nGaffney, John, 4, Cambria.\n\nGallagher, Mrs. Margaret, 32, Washington street.\n\nGallagher, Thomas, 4, Washington street.\n\nGarvey, Bernard, Sr., 62, Cambria.\n\nGrady, Mrs. Abbie, 60, Cambria.\n\nHalleron, May, 5, Washington street.\n\nHayes, Mrs. Jane, 32, Cambria.\n\nHayes, Michael, 12, Cambria.\n\nHayes, Mary, 8, Cambria.\n\nHayes, Rose, 7, Cambria.\n\nHayes, John, 6 Cambria.\n\nHart, Eliza.\n\nHarrigan, Ella, 22, Hulbert House.\n\nHoward, James B., 45, Conemaugh.\n\nHowe, Mrs. Edward, 50, Railroad street.\n\nHowe, Mrs. Bridget, 48, Cambria.\n\nHowe, Maggie, 24, Cambria.\n\nHowe, Lizzie, 22, Cambria.\n\nHowe, Rose, 19, Cambria.\n\nHowe, Gertrude, 13, Railroad street.\n\nKane, John, 20, Cambria.\n\nKane, Mary, 18, Cambria.\n\nKinney, Mrs. Mary, 50, Washington street.\n\nKinney, Mary Ellen, 12, Washington street.\n\nKirby, Wm., 32, Washington street.\n\nKirby, Mrs. Lena, 25, Washington street.\n\nLambert, Johanna.\n\nLavelle, Michael, 22, Broad street.\n\nLavelle, Wm. M. Madden, Kate, 17, Cambria.\n\nMatthews, Thos., 22, Clinton street.\n\nMcAneny, Neal, 50, Cambria.\n\nMcAneny, Mrs. Neal, 45, Cambria.\n\nMcAneny, Rose, 23, Cambria.\n\nMcAneny, Kate, 18, Cambria.\n\nMcAneny, Mary, 13, Cambria.\n\nMcAneny, Wm., 9, Cambria.\n\nMcAneny, Annie, 5, Cambria.\n\nMcAneny, Agnes, 2, Cambria.\n\nMcGee, John, 55, Market street.\n\nMcGinley, James, 34, Conemaugh.\n\nMcVay, Lizzie, 20, Locust street.\n\nMullin, Peter, 50, Conemaugh.\n\nMurphy, Michael J., 34, Brunswick Hotel.\n\nMurphy, Mrs. Mary, 26, Millville.\n\nMurphy, John, 17, Millville.\n\nMurphy, Rose, 14, Millville.\n\nMurphy, Wm., 11, Millville.\n\nMurphy, J. J., 55, Park Place.\n\nMurphy, Lily, 9, Park Place.\n\nNightly, John, 30, Millville.\n\nO'Connel, Capt. Patrick, 70, Washington street.\n\nO'Connel, Margaret, 63, Washington street.\n\nO'Connel, Nora, 60, Washington street.\n\nO'Donnel, Frank, Washington street.\n\nO'Neil, Edward, 3 months, Cambria.\n\nO'Neil, Mrs. Bridget, 28, Cambria.\n\nO'Neil, John.\n\nQuinn, Ellen, Franklin street.\n\nQuinn, John, Franklin street.\n\nRiley, Frances, 15, Cambria.\n\nRiley, Gertrude, 13, Cambria.\n\nRiley, Mary, 18, Cambria.\n\nRogers, Mary, 17, Millville.\n\nRogers, Tatt.\n\nRogers, Mrs. Susan.\n\nRogers, Jane, child.\n\nRyan, John, 55, Washington street.\n\nRyan, Mrs. John, 50, Washington street.\n\nRyan, Maggie, 14, Washington street.\n\nRyan, Mrs. Mary, 73, Washington street.\n\nSagerson, Catherine, 4, Railroad street.\n\nSagerson, Agnes, 2, Railroad street.\n\nSagerson, Thomas, 6 months, Railroad street.\n\nSharkey, Mary, 4, Washington street.\n\nSinniger, Mrs. Mary, Cambria.\n\nSlick, Mrs. Nancy, 55, Fourth Ward.\n\nTakacs, Mrs. Teresa, 31, Cambria.\n\nTakacs, Mrs. John, 21, Cambria.\n\nTokar, Mrs. Dora, 23. Cambria.\n\nTokar, Mary, 4, Cambria.\n\nTokar, Annie, 1, Cambria.\n\nTaylor, Frances.\n\nST. MARY'S CEMETERY.\n\n(Lower Yoder.)\n\nBanyan, Mrs. Rose, 36, Cambria.\n\nBetzler, Mrs. Agnes, 38, Cambria.\n\nBoyle, Charles, Sr., 45, Cambria.\n\nBoyle, Mary, 12, Cambria.\n\nBoyle, Charles, 8, Cambria.\n\nBoyle, Thomas, 7, Cambria.\n\nBrotz, Pancrotz, 55, Cambria.\n\nBrotz, Mrs. Lena, 50, Cambria.\n\nBrady, John, 53, Franklin street.\n\nBrady, Mrs. Julia, 50, Franklin street.\n\nCoby, Elizabeth, Cambria.\n\nCulliton, Mrs. Teresa, 28, Cambria.\n\nDeitrich, Mrs. Amelia, 23, Cambria.\n\nFish, Lena, 17, Cambria.\n\nFisher, Ignatius, 59, Cambria.\n\nFisher, Margaret, 14, Cambria.\n\nFleckenstein, Mrs. Ann, 25, Cambria.\n\nFleckenstein, Regina, 2, Cambria.\n\nGerber, Mrs. Margaret, 41, Cambria.\n\nGerber, John C., 45, Cambria.\n\nGerber, Rose, 8, Cambria.\n\nGerber, Vincent, 6, Cambria.\n\nHanki, Edward, Cambria.\n\nHecker, Mrs. Christ, 58, Cambria.\n\nHeider, Mrs. Ella, 24, Cambria.\n\nHeider, John Leo, 6 months, Cambria.\n\nHessler, Mrs. Fedora, 29, Cambria.\n\nHessler, Mary, 10, Morrellville.\n\nHessler, Joseph, 1\u00bd, Cambria.\n\nHirsch, Eddie, 8, Cambria.\n\nJust, Magdalena, 29, Cambria.\n\nJust, William, 9, Cambria.\n\nJust, Eddie, 4, Cambria.\n\nKintz, Mrs. Mary, 26, Cambria.\n\nKintz, Katie, 19, Cambria.\n\nKintz, Mrs. Mary, 25, Cambria.\n\nKnoblespeice, Maggie.\n\nKoebler, Mrs. George, 60, Cambria.\n\nKropp, Katie, 21, Cambria.\n\nLambert, Johanna, 19, Washington street.\n\nLambreski, Kate, 12, Cambria.\n\nMacheletzky, Stanislaus, 10, Cambria.\n\nMartinades, Mrs. Mary, Cambria.\n\nMiller, Mrs. Annie M., 46, Cambria.\n\nMiller, George, 65, Cambria.\n\nMiller, Eddie, 3, Cambria.\n\nMiller, Annie, 1, Cambria.\n\nNich, Mrs. Margaret, 30, Cambria.\n\nNich, Frank, 6, Cambria.\n\nNich, John, 4, Cambria.\n\nOsterman, Joseph, 38, Cambria.\n\nQuinn, Mrs. Terry, 26, Railroad street.\n\nSchnell, Mrs. Fidel, 68, Cambria.\n\nSchnell, Mrs. Margaret, 60, Cambria.\n\nSchnell, Mrs. F., Cambria.\n\nSchmitt, Mary, 31, Cambria.\n\nSchmitt, George, 4, Cambria.\n\nSchmitt, Sophia, 1\u00bd, Cambria.\n\nShmitt, Fredericka, Cambria.\n\nShmitt, Mrs. Hortena, Cambria.\n\nShmitt, Leo, Cambria.\n\nSinniger, Mrs. Mary, Cambria.\n\nSarlouis, Mrs. Barbara, 48, Cambria.\n\nSarlouis, Mrs. Peter, Cambria.\n\nSnell, Mary, 13, Cambria.\n\nStinely, Mrs. Mary, 35, Cambria.\n\nStinely, Kate, 12, Cambria.\n\nStinely, Joseph, 5, Cambria.\n\nWeber, Mrs. Tresa, 43, Cambria.\n\nWeber, John, 4, Cambria.\n\nWeinzierl, Louis, 41, Cambria.\n\nOLD CATHOLIC GRAVEYARD.\n\n(Conemaugh Borough.)\n\nAkers, Alvar, 54, Upper Yoder.\n\nCoad, Mrs. Mary, 57, Washington street.\n\nCoad, John, 59, Washington street.\n\nConrad, William, 26, Woodvale\n\nHalleran, Mrs. Mary C., 30, Washington street.\n\nHannan, Eugene, 14, Woodvale.\n\nHowe, Abner.\n\nLynch, John, 27, Conemaugh.\n\nLynch, Mary, 16, Conemaugh.\n\nMayhew, Jennie, 18, Woodvale.\n\nMayhew, Joseph, 16, Woodvale.\n\nMayhew, Annie, 12, Woodvale.\n\nMayhew, Earnest, 9, Woodvale.\n\nMayhew, Harry, 6, Woodvale.\n\nMayhew, James, 3, Woodvale.\n\nMcKarley, Mrs. Mary.\n\nNugent, Mrs. Mary Jane, 50, Hager Block.\n\nQuinn, Vincent, 14, Main street.\n\nWehn, Mrs. Laura, 29, Conemaugh.\n\nWehn, Annie, 4, Main street.\n\nWehn, Mary, infant, Conemaugh.\n\nWehn, Joseph, 4, Conemaugh.\n\nWheat, Frank, 28, Clinton street.\n\nGERMAN CATHOLIC CEMETERY.\n\n(Sandy vale.)\n\nBrindle, Mary.\n\nGeis, Mrs. Abbey, 24, Salina, Kansas.\n\nGeis, Richard P., 2, Salina, Kansas.\n\nHable, John, 29, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffgard, Conrad, 18, Clinton street.\n\nHoltzman, Joseph, 35, Woodvale.\n\nHome, William J., 21, Conemaugh.\n\nHome, Emma J., 22, Stormer street.\n\nHornick, John P., 26, Conemaugh.\n\nHornick, Mrs. Amelia, 25, Conemaugh.\n\nHorton, Joseph, Sr., 59, Woodvale.\n\nKeifline, Mrs. Catherine, 56, Conemaugh.\n\nMaloy, Manassas, 45, Clinton street.\n\nMalzi, Jacob, 34, Washington street\n\nMurtha, James, 65, Conemaugh.\n\nMurtha, James, 28, Main street.\n\nMurtha, Mrs. Barbara, 24, Main street.\n\nMurtha, Frank, 6, Main street.\n\nMurtha, Flora May, 4, Main street.\n\nMurtha, Lily, 1, Main street.\n\nOswald, Charles, 44, Third Ward.\n\nOswald, Mary, 19, Third Ward.\n\nQuinn, Vincent D., 16, Main street.\n\nRipple, Maggie B., 27, Merchants' Hotel.\n\nRobine, Christina, 25, Franklin street.\n\nSarlouis, Sophia.\n\nSchnurr, Charles, 40, Conemaugh.\n\nSchnurr, Robert, 27, Smith alley.\n\nSchry, Joseph, Sr., 78, Woodvale.\n\nSchry, Mrs. Joseph, 58, Woodvale.\n\nShellhammer, Lorentz.\n\nShellhammer, Patricius.\n\nSchaller, Joseph, 62, Woodvale.\n\nSchaller, Mrs. Joseph, 62, Woodvale.\n\nSchaller, Annie, 24, Woodvale.\n\nSchaller, Rose, 21, Woodvale.\n\nWerberger, Prof. F. P., 70, Locust street.\n\nVoegtly, Germanus, 62, Conemaugh.\n\n(Geistown.)\n\nRubritz, Peter, 65, Franklin Borough.\n\nRubritz, Mrs. Margaret, 56, Franklin Borough.\n\nRubritz, Maggie, 20, Franklin Borough.\n\nSchiffhauer, John, 62, Washington street.\n\nStenger, John, 12, Main street.\n\nStenger, Leo, 3, Main street.\n\nSteigerwald, William, Conemaugh.\n\nSteigerwald, Mrs. Mary, 38, Conemaugh.\n\nSteigerwald, infant, 1 month, Conemaugh.\n\nPUBLIC PLOT.\n\n[Known to have been found, but bodies never recovered by friends, and buried in Public Plot in Grand View Cemetery.]\n\nArthur, Earl H., 8, Water street.\n\nBaker, son of Andrew.\n\nBohnke, Charles.\n\nBopp, son of Jacob.\n\nBopp, Katie, 9, Broad street.\n\nBricker, Henry.\n\nBurns, John.\n\nBarbour, Harry L., 16, Locust street.\n\nBarker, Mrs. Susan, 28, Woodvale.\n\nBehnke, Charles.\n\nBloch, Louisa, 17, Conemaugh.\n\nBoehler, Mrs. Annie, 39, Conemaugh.\n\nBrawley, George D., 17, Cor. Union and Vine sts.\n\nBrennan, Mrs. Martha, 36, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, Mary, 16, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, William, 12, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, Lewis, 10, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, Arthur, 7, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, Frank, 3, Woodvale.\n\nBrown, Sadie, 22, Woodvale.\n\nBruhn, Claus, 58, Conemaugh.\n\nBryan, Wm. A., 45, Mansion House.\n\nCampbell, Peter, 40, Conemaugh.\n\nCasey, William, 48, Cambria.\n\nCornelison, Maggie.\n\nCraig, Thomas A., 32, Market street.\n\nCraig, Mrs. T. A., 30, Market street.\n\nCraig, Christ, 45, Cambria.\n\nCraig, Annie, 13, Walnut street.\n\nCunz, Lydia, 6, Napoleon street.\n\nCunz, Robert, 4 months, Napoleon street.\n\nDillon, James, 35, Napoleon street.\n\nDowney, Mrs. Mary, 55, Pearl street.\n\nDudzik, Andrew, 28, Cambria.\n\nEager, Annie.\n\nEck, Mary Ann, 37, Woodvale.\n\nEck, Lily, 12, Conemaugh street.\n\nEdwards, Mrs. Ann R., 70, Union street.\n\nElsaesser, Andrew, 16, Conemaugh.\n\nEnglish, Joseph, 24, Railroad street.\n\nFagan, Matthew, 40, Millville.\n\nFagan, Mrs. M., 38, Millville.\n\nFagan, Monica, 12, Millville.\n\nFagan, Daniel, 10, Millville.\n\nFagan, Clara, 3, Millville.\n\nFagan, Thomas, 1, Millville.\n\nFaloon, Mrs. Ann E., 63, Pearl street.\n\nFichtner, Mrs. Tillie, 33, Main street.\n\nFiddler, Elmira, Bedford street.\n\nFiddler, Eliza J.\n\nFockler, Herman, 21, Franklin street.\n\nGriffin, Miss Mary.\n\nHamilton, Mary, 33, Bedford street.\n\nHanki, Mrs. Teresa, 40, Cambria.\n\nHause, Mollie.\n\nHellriggle, Chas.\n\nHellriggle, Mrs. Lizzie, 30, Woodvale.\n\nHenry, William, 34, Cumberland, Md.\n\nHocker, Mrs. John, 72, Somerset street.\n\nHop Sing, Franklin street.\n\nHurt, Charles, London, England.\n\nIrwin, Maggie, 22, Hulbert House.\n\nJohnson, David, 45, Conemaugh street.\n\nJones, Mary, 14, Main street.\n\nKast, Clara, 17, Clinton street.\n\nKeene, Katie, 16, Union street.\n\nKeinxstoel, Samuel, 30, Market street.\n\nLarimer, James, 45, Somerset street.\n\nLee Sing, Chinaman, Franklin street.\n\nLucas, Maria, 50, Conemaugh.\n\nMadden, Mrs. Mary, 47, Cambria City.\n\nMack, August.\n\nMcClarren, Cora, 8, Cambria City.\n\nMcCue, Mrs. Melden, Richard.\n\nMaley, Henry.\n\nMosser, Mrs. Mary, 65, Conemaugh street.\n\nMullen, Margaret.\n\nOswald, Mrs.\n\nOwens, Mrs.\n\nOyler, John R.\n\nPhillips, Mrs. Eliza, 48, Union street.\n\nReese, Mrs. Lizzie, 30, Conemaugh street.\n\nReese, Annie, 7, Vine street.\n\nReidel, John C., 60, Conemaugh.\n\nRich, Mrs. Charlotte, 45, Stonycreek street.\n\nRoberts, Mrs. Jennie, 18, Somerset street.\n\nRosenfelt, Solomon, Washington street.\n\nSaylor, Henry.\n\nSchnable, Mrs. Conrad, 35, Baumer street.\n\nSchittenhelm, Anton, Cambria.\n\nSchittenhelm, Anton Jr., Cambria.\n\nShumaker, Mrs. James M., Locust street.\n\nSkiba, Mrs. Stainslous, 32, Cambria.\n\nSkiba, Joseph, 4, Cambria.\n\nSmith, Ralph, 11, Woodvale.\n\nSmouse, Jennie, Hulbert House.\n\nStern, Bella.\n\nStrauss, Moses, 77, Vine street.\n\nStrauch, Henry, 50, Conemaugh.\n\nSmith, Willie, 1, Cambria.\n\nSurany, David.\n\nThomas, John T.\n\nTill, Arthur, 27, Market street.\n\nUnverzagt, Daniel, 66, Washington street.\n\nUnverzagt, Mrs. Daniel, 62, Washington street.\n\nViering, Mrs.\n\nWhite, Mrs. John, 76, Union street.\n\nWagnor, Henry, Cambria.\n\nWarsing, Jane, 24, Coopersdale.\n\nWarkeston, Miss.\n\nWeinzierl, Mrs. Mary, 38, Cambria.\n\nWearn, Willie, 6, King street.\n\nWalford, Frank.\n\nWill, Elizabeth, Conemaugh.\n\nPASSENGERS ON DAY EXPRESS.\n\n[Those marked? bodies never found. Those found lived at the places named, to which places the remains were taken.]\n\nBates, Mrs. Annie, Delavin, Wis.\n\n? Brady, Mrs. J. W., Chicago, Ill.\n\nBryan, Elizabeth M., 20, Philadelphia.\n\nChristman, Mrs. A. C., Dallas, Texas.\n\nDay, John R., 60, Prospect, Md.\n\nDay, Miss, Prospect, Md.\n\nEwing, Andrew, Snow Shoe, Pa.\n\n? Feustermaker, Victor, Egypt, Lehigh County\n\nHarnish, Blanche, Dayton, O.\n\n? Hemingway, Fred, and wife, Kokomo, Ind.\n\nKing, Mrs. J. F.\n\n? Lyon, E., New York.\n\n? McCoy, Mrs.\n\n? McCoy,\u2014\u2014\n\n? McCov,\u2014\u2014\n\nMeisel, Christ, 32, Newark, N. J.\n\nMinich, Kate, Fostoria, Ohio.\n\nPaulson, Jennie, 20, Allegheny City.\n\n? Phillips, Frank (porter), Jersey City.\n\nRainey, Mrs. Sophia, 64, Kalamazoo, Mich.\n\nRoss, John D.\n\nSchrantz, George, Pleasant Gap, Pa.\n\n? Shelly, W., Newark, N. J.\n\nShick, Cyrus, Reading.\n\n? Sible, Mrs. Springtown, Bucks County, Pa.\n\nSmith, Mrs. H. K., 25, Osborn, Ohio.\n\nSmith, R. Wardwell, 3, Osborn, Ohio.\n\nStinson, Eliza, Norristown, Pa.\n\n? Swaney, Mrs. Mary A., 67.\n\nSwineford, Mary A., St. Louis, Mo.\n\nSwineford, Mrs. Ed., St. Louis, Mo.\n\nTarbell, Mrs. Farney, 32, Cleveland, Ohio.\n\n? Tarbell, Grace, 7, Cleveland, Ohio.\n\n? Tarbell, Bertie, 5, Cleveland, Ohio.\n\n? Tarbell, Howard, 2, Cleveland, Ohio.\n\nWeaver, Beneval, Millersburg, Pa.\n\nWoolf, Jennie, Chambersburg, Pa.\n\nMISCELLANEOUS.\n\n[Bodies taken to places named in subheads for burial. The place named in line with name of individual is where they were lost from.]\n\nLOYSBURG, BEDFORD COUNTY, PA.\n\nAaron, Mrs. H. B., 29, Railroad street.\n\nAaron, Flora, 10, Railroad street.\n\nBLAIRS VILLE, PA.\n\nAlexander, John G., 45, Woodvale.\n\nAlexander, Mrs. John G., 45, Woodvale.\n\nBrown, Emma, 20.\n\nMcLaughlin, Mrs. Julia, 60, Cambria.\n\nMiller, Robert, 22, Sixth Ward.\n\nPike, Fanny, 19, Haynes street.\n\nWILMORE, PA.\n\nBeiter, Mathias, 3, Clinton street.\n\nPHILADELPHIA, PA.\n\nButler, Chas. T., Hulbert House.\n\nCarlin, Jonathan, Hulbert House.\n\nCox, James G., Hulbert House.\n\nClark, W. H. L., 50, Hulbert House.\n\nDe Walt, Chas. B., 36, Hulbert House.\n\nDorsey, John D., Hulbert House.\n\nLichtenberg, Rev.\n\nJohn, Locust street.\n\nLichtenberg, Mrs.\n\nMurray, James, 50, Hulbert House.\n\nNathan, Adolph, 40, Main street.\n\nOverbeck, William H., 38, Main street.\n\nSpitz Walter L., Hulbert House.\n\nWoolf, Mrs. M. L., Jackson street.\n\nLOUISVILLE, KY.\n\nMarshall, Chas. A., 34, Hulbert House.\n\nBRADDOCK, PA.\n\nCadogan, Mrs. Mary A., 46, Millville.\n\nCadogan, Ann, 25, Millville.\n\nYoung, Mrs. Kate, 34, Market street.\n\nYoung, Samuel, 13, Market street.\n\nPITTSBURGH, PA.\n\nCreed, David, 60, Washington street.\n\nCreed, Mrs. Eliza, 55, Washington street.\n\nCreed, Maggie, 28, Washington street.\n\nFisher, Moses, 24, Mansion House.\n\nSweeney, Mrs. Ann, 70, Conemaugh.\n\nBENSHOFF'S, CAMBRIA COUNTY, PA.\n\nCuster, William H., 35, Millville.\n\nSTEUBENVILLE, OHIO.\n\nDavis, Frank B., 40, Main street.\n\nDavis, Frank, infant.\n\nSOMERSET, PA.\n\nGaither, Harry, 18, South street.\n\nHouston, Minnie, Hulbert House.\n\nHurst, Nathaniel, 15, Washington street.\n\nSHIPPENSBURG, PA.\n\nDiehl, Carrie, 20, Hulbert House.\n\nWells, Jennie, 22, Hulbert House.\n\nMERCER COUNTY, PA.\n\nDe France, Mrs. H. T., 32, Hulbert House.\n\nNEW YORK, N. Y.\n\nDow, W. F., Hulbert House.\n\nHOLLIDAYSBURG, PA.\n\nFitzharris, John, Sr., 97, Franklin street.\n\nPHILIPSBURG, PA.\n\nEskdale, James, 42, Woodvale.\n\nEskdale, Mrs. James, Woodvale.\n\nBERLIN, PA.\n\nGarman, Grace, 21, Washington street.\n\nPITTSTON, PA.\n\nGroff, Nellie C., 20, Hulbert House.\n\nLEECHBURG, PA.\n\nHill, Ivy, 6, Washington street.\n\nJack, Jennie.\n\nCOVER'S HILL, CAMBRIA COUNTY, PA.\n\nHinchman, Harry, 4, Woodvale.\n\nLong, Samuel.\n\nShaffer, Fred, 21, Conemaugh.\n\nDERRY, PA.\n\nJackson, H. A., 36.\n\nCUMBERLAND, MD.\n\nKatzenstein, Mrs. Ella, Hulbert House.\n\nKatzenstein, Edwin, Hulbert House.\n\nHARRISBURG, PA.\n\nKeis, Charles A., 26, Conemaugh.\n\nWeber, E. Vincent, 26, Woodvale.\n\nWeber, Mrs. Florence, 25, Woodvale.\n\nBUTLER, PA.\n\nBonner, Mrs. Ann, 24.\n\nKenna, Mrs. Alice B.\n\nHUNTINGDON COUNTY, PA.\n\nMcDivitt, Mattie, 32, Water street.\n\nHEADRICK'S, CAMBRIA COUNTY, PA.\n\nAllison, Florence, 12, Texas.\n\nBeck, William J., 30, Woodvale.\n\nBeck, Mrs. Blanche, 29, Woodvale.\n\nWilson, Dr. J. C., 53, Franklin.\n\nWilson, Caroline E., 52, Franklin.\n\nQUAKERTOWN, PA.\n\nSmith, Mrs. J. L., 34, Hulbert House.\n\nSmith, Florence, 9, Hulbert House.\n\nSmith, Frank, 7, Hulbert House.\n\nSmith, infant, 4 months, Hulbert House.\n\nWilson, Charles H., 45, Hulbert House.\n\nARMAGH, PA.\n\nYoung, Sarah C., 66, Court street.\n\nBEAVER FALLS, PA.\n\nLeslie, John S., 30, Levergood street.\n\nYPSILANTI, MICH.\n\nRichards, Carrie, Hulbert House.\n\nRichards, Mollie, Hulbert House.\n\nBALTIMORE, MD.\n\nGoldenberg, Henry, 54, Lincoln street.\n\nHoopes, Walter E., 30, Woodvale.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Alice M., 29, Woodvale.\n\nGREENSBURG, PA.\n\nKilgore, W. Alex., 52, Washington street.\n\nMontgomery, Alex., 55, Stonycreek street.\n\nSEWICKLEY, PA.\n\nLittle, John A., 43, Hulbert House.\n\nBANGOR, PA.\n\nLlewellyn, Mrs. J. J., 27, visiting at J. T. Llewellyn's.\n\nSOUTH FORK, PA.\n\nMullin, James, 24.\n\nJERSEY HEIGHTS, N. J.\n\nMyer, Bernhart.\n\nROME, N. Y.\n\nRichards, John O., 70.\n\nYOUNGSTOWN, OHIO.\n\nWhite, Mrs. Alex., 42.\n\nINDIANA, PA.\n\nZiegler, James B., 24.\n\nREADING, PA.\n\nFediman, W. M., 56, Main street\n\nBLOUGH'S, STONYCREEK TOWNSHIP, PA.\n\nBlough, Samuel, 40, Market street.\n\nBlough, Sophia, 38, Main street.\n\nBlough, child, Main street.\n\nSCALP LEVEL, PA.\n\nOwens, William L., 11, Market street.\n\nOwens, Daisy, 13, Market street.\n\nNICHOLSON, PA.\n\nRosensteel, Mrs. J. M., 35, Woodvale.\n\nRosensteel, Ray Halstead, 18, Woodvale.\n\nNO CEMETERY RECORD.\n\n[Bodies found, but not known where buried.]\n\nAdams, Henry Clay.\n\nAlberter, Anna, 22, Cambria.\n\nAmps, Nicodemus, 42, Cambria.\n\nAmps, Mrs. Teresa, 32, Cambria.\n\nAtkinson, John, 72, East Conemaugh.\n\nBaer, Rosa L., 17, Grubbtown.\n\nBagley, William, Morrellville.\n\nBaird, Charles.\n\nBaker, Mrs. Nelson.\n\nBaker, Mrs. Mary, Woodvale.\n\nBaker, Catherine, 70, Market street.\n\nBaker, Agnes, 68, Market street.\n\nBarley, Myrtle, 11, Woodvale.\n\nBarley, Mamie, 7, Woodvale.\n\nBarley, Effie, 5, Woodvale.\n\nBarley, Laura, 6 months, Woodvale.\n\nBarrett, Jas., 27, Franklin st., St. Charles Hotel.\n\nBerg, Mrs. Marion, 24, Woodvale.\n\nBerkebile, Mahlon, Morrellville.\n\nBlough, Emanuel, 22, Bedford street Blough, infant, School alley.\n\nBowersox, Frank, 22, Market street.\n\nBoyer, Solomon, 62, East Conemaugh.\n\nBradley, Thomas, 42, Conemaugh.\n\nBruhn, Mrs. Anna, 45, Portage street.\n\nBunting, Mrs. Caroline, 45, Woodvale.\n\nBurk, Mrs. Matilda, 38, East Conemaugh.\n\nBurkhard, Mrs. Mollie, 36, Woodvale.\n\nCarr, Alexander, 36, East Conemaugh.\n\nCarr, Sissie, 2, East Conemaugh.\n\nChristie, Andrew C., 50, Woodvale.\n\nClark, Thomas, 42, Union street.\n\nClark, John B., 50, Portage st., and 7 children.\n\nCole, John, Cambria.\n\nConnors, Mrs. Mary, Millville.\n\nCooper, Otto, 8, Kurtz alley.\n\nCooper, Mrs. 38, Kurtz alley.\n\nCouthamer, Mr.\n\nCoy, Mrs. Sarah, 46, East Conemaugh.\n\nCoy, Newton G., 16, East Conemaugh.\n\nCraig, Mrs. Catherine, 40, Walnut street.\n\nCrowthers, infant, 3, Chestnut street.\n\nCummings, Amy, Somerset street.\n\nDavis, Frank, 8, Woodvale.\n\nDavis, Mrs. Philip, 60.\n\nDavis, Mrs. Thomas S., 55, Market street.\n\nDelaney, Mrs. C. W., 59, Conemaugh street.\n\nDimond, Frank, 36, Conemaugh.\n\nDimond, Mrs. Ann, 64, Conemaugh.\n\nDoorocsik, Mrs. Annie, 28, Cambria.\n\nDoorocsik, Miss, 6, Cambria.\n\nDoorocsik, Mary, 4, Cambria.\n\nDorriss, August, 54, Conemaugh.\n\nDoubt, Mrs. William, 63, Cambria.\n\nDougherty, Mary, 16, Cambria.\n\nEberle, Lena, 14, Woodvale.\n\nFails, Dolly F., 15, Union street.\n\nFers, Frank, 23, Millville.\n\nFink, Mary E., 17, Conemaugh street.\n\nFisher, Wolfgang, 33, Main street.\n\nFisher, Noah, East Conemaugh.\n\nFlegle, David G.\n\nFlegle, Miss Annie.\n\nFlinn, Mrs. Mary, Bedford street.\n\nFogarty, Thomas, 50.\n\nForrest, Frank, 12, Locust street.\n\nFoust, Conrad, Woodvale.\n\nGardner, Rose, 20, Prospect.\n\nGill, William, 7, Prospect.\n\nGillen, Laura, Bedford street.\n\nGordon, Susan L., 62, Hager Block.\n\nGreenwood, Mrs. Rose, 33, Conemaugh.\n\nGromley, Lilly, 19, Mineral Point, Pa.\n\nGromley, J. A., 14, Mineral Point, Pa.\n\nHallen, Charles E., 33, Millville.\n\nHarris, Mrs. Mary T., 48, Walnut street.\n\nHartzell, Mr., Market street.\n\nHecker, John, 10, Cambria.\n\nHeckman, Francis, 25, Main street.\n\nHeffley, Edward, 22, Somerset street.\n\nHeine, Henry, 26, Cambria.\n\nHeine, Mrs. Lizzie, 25, Somerset street.\n\nHerman, Edward, Cambria.\n\nHess, William B., 55, Millville.\n\nHipp, Elizabeth P., 20, Main street.\n\nHitchins, Mrs. Cordelia, 35, Market street.\n\nHornick, Agnes, Broad street.\n\nHughes, Mary, 7, Chestnut street.\n\nHughes, Mrs., 64, Union street.\n\nJames, Lena, 26, River avenue.\n\nJames, Maggie, 1, River avenue.\n\nJenkins, Mrs. Susan, 40, Somerset street.\n\nJohill, Joseph, Third Ward.\n\nJohnson, John M., 40, Union street.\n\nJohnson, Mrs. John M., 38, Union street.\n\nJohnson, Mrs. Oliver, 22, Conemaugh street.\n\nJones, Maggie, 29.\n\nKane, John, 45, Union street.\n\nKane, Bridget, 20, Market street.\n\nKeifline, Mary, 4, Conemaugh.\n\nKelly, Charles, Millville.\n\nKunkle, Lizzie, 21, Washington street.\n\nLaban, Mrs. Teresa, 50, Cambria.\n\nLeech, Mrs. Sarah E., 60, Franklin.\n\nLeech, Alice M., 18, Franklin.\n\nLingle, Mrs. Mary J., 44, Pearl street.\n\nLong, Samuel, 60, Vine street.\n\nLotz, Conrad, 64, Sherman street.\n\nLyden, Mary, 20, Merchants' Hotel.\n\nManeval, Clarence, 17, Lincoln street.\n\nMann, Michael, 41, South Fork.\n\nMarczi, Mrs. Mary, 42, Cambria.\n\nMarshall, Wm. H., 23, Clinton street.\n\nMaurer, John, 77, Morris street.\n\nMcAuliff, Laura, 16, Woodvale.\n\nMcDowell, Geo., 8, Pearl street.\n\nMcGuire, Mrs. Mary, 45, Walnut street.\n\nMcHugh, Mrs. D. A., 45, E. Conemaugh.\n\nMcHugh, Gertrude, 16, E. Conemaugh.\n\nMcHugh, Jno. L., 14, E. Conemaugh. McNally.\n\nPatrick, 42, Prospect.\n\nMecke, August, 51, Cambria.\n\nMelczer, Frederick, 28, Cambria.\n\nMiller, Robert, 5, Napoleon street.\n\nMiller, John A., 25, Cambria.\n\nMiller, William, 44, Franklin.\n\nMingle, Sarah.\n\nMonteverde, Mary, 11, Washington street.\n\nMonteverde, Emelia, 7, Washington street.\n\nMorran, James A., 53, Somerset street.\n\nNau, Katie, 20, Bedford street.\n\nNeary, Mrs. Kate, 34, Bedford street.\n\nNeary, Mary Ellen, 11, Bedford street.\n\nNoblespiece, Maggie, 14, Morrellville\n\nNugent, Mrs. Mary Jane, 60, Hager Block.\n\nO'Connell, \u2014, Cambria.\n\nO'Conner, Rose, 20, Locust street.\n\nO'Neal, John, 19, Wood alley.\n\nOswald, Appahmarian, 12, Cambria.\n\nPage, Emma, 11, Mineral Point.\n\nPage, Herman, 6, Mineral Point.\n\nPalmer, Mrs. J. H., 76, Napoleon street.\n\nPartsch, Mrs. Josephine, 59, Woodvale.\n\nPhillips, John, 15, Union street.\n\nRausch, John, 44, Daisytown.\n\nRepp, George, 5 months, Daisytown.\n\nRobine, Eddie, 2, Franklin.\n\nRobine, Willie, 9 months, Franklin.\n\nRodgers, Patrick, 52, Millville.\n\nRodgers, Grace, 5, Millville.\n\nRodgers, Mrs. Mary, 50, Millville.\n\nRoss, Joseph, 30, Conemaugh.\n\nRoth, Annie, 5, Cambria.\n\nRowland, Emma, 32, Market street.\n\nRowland, Ran, 16, Market street.\n\nSamen, Mrs. Annie, 25, Cambria.\n\nSamen, John, 4 Cambria.\n\nSamen, Annie, 3, Cambria.\n\nSamen, Mary, 3 months, Cambria.\n\nSchmidt, Mrs. Frederick, Cambria.\n\nSchmidt, Hortense.\n\nSchmidt. Leo.\n\nSchmitz, Gustave, 33, Clinton street.\n\nSchittenhelm, Max, Cambria.\n\nSnyder, Mrs. Annie, 34, Woodvale.\n\nSpareline, John, 64, Railroad street.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Maggie L., 38, Woodvale.\n\nSmith, Addie, 13, Pearl street.\n\nSmith, Philip, 16, Walnut street.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Amelia, 32, Cambria.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Mary, 52, Conemaugh.\n\nSmith, Philip, 16, Conemaugh.\n\nSlick, Josephine, 20, Woodvale.\n\nSutliff, George, 25, Somerset street.\n\nStern, Bella, 1, Washington street.\n\nStewart, \u2014, Second Ward.\n\nSpicsak, Mrs. Annie, 27, Cambria.\n\nTacey, Peter L., 20, Woodvale.\n\nTrindle, John M., 39, Nineveh.\n\nTrawatha, Mrs. Annie, 60, Conemaugh.\n\nThomas, Mabel, 6, Market street.\n\nThomas, Edward M., 71, Woodvale.\n\nUhl, Mrs. Ludwig, 80, Peter street.\n\nValentine, George M., 42, Market street.\n\nWeisz, Mrs. Martin, 46, Cambria.\n\nWeisz, Jacob, 13, Cambria.\n\nWeisz, Jacob.\n\nWeisz, Isaac, 6, Cambria.\n\nWeisz, Anna, 4, Cambria.\n\nWelsh, Thomas, 60, Cambria.\n\nWeinzierl, Louis, 41, Cambria.\n\nWilliams, Elanor, 7 months, Lewis alley.\n\nWilliams, Mrs. Margaret, 27, Conemaugh street.\n\nWild, Mrs. Margaret, 80, Conemaugh.\n\nWillower, Miss Bella, Somerset street.\n\nWillower, Bertha, Somerset street.\n\nWissinger, Mrs. Catherine, 47, Morris street.\n\nYost, Charlotte, 16, Pine street.\n\nNOT KNOWN TO HAVE BEEN FOUND.\n\nAbele, Katie, 21, Main street.\n\nAbler, Lulu, Woodvale.\n\nAlberter, Teresa, 3, Cambria.\n\nAlexander, Mrs. Martha, Main street.\n\nAllison, Mrs. Jane, 45, Pittsburgh.\n\nAlt, John, 65, Conemaugh.\n\nAlt, Teresa, 20, Conemaugh.\n\nAlt, George, 60, Cambria.\n\nAlt, Mrs. Ann, 75, Cambria.\n\nAmps, Mary, 11, Cambria.\n\nAubrey, Thomas, 45, Conemaugh street.\n\nBacker, George, 27, Conemaugh.\n\nBaker, James, 22, Woodvale.\n\nBaker, Catherine, Market street.\n\nBaker, Lydia, 20, Woodvale.\n\nBaker, Nancy, Market street.\n\nBaker, Richard, 1, Woodvale.\n\nBaker, Mellville, 11, Woodvale.\n\nBaker, Deronda, 5, Woodvale.\n\nBaker, Dolly, Woodvale.\n\nBaker, Clara, 17, Woodvale.\n\nBanyan, John, 7, Cambria.\n\nBanyan, Albert, 4, Cambria.\n\nBanyan, Theodore, 2, Cambria.\n\nBarbour, Howard, 7, Woodvale.\n\nBarbour, John F., 3 months, Woodvale.\n\nBarbour, Mrs. Sarah, 59, Woodvale.\n\nBarker, Edward, 27, Woodvale.\n\nBarker, Clara, 2\u00bd, Woodvale.\n\nBarker, infant, 1 month, Woodvale.\n\nBartosh, Mrs. Hannah, 39, Cambria.\n\nBartosh, Frank, 14, Cambria.\n\nBaumer, Mrs. Eliza, 68, Woodvale.\n\nBeam, Roscoe, 2, Locust street.\n\nBeecher, Mrs. Jane, 44, Woodvale.\n\nBeecher, Mary, 23, Woodvale.\n\nBeck, Alfred, 6. Beck, Roy, 3.\n\nBeckley, Mrs. Mary, 48, Woodvale.\n\nBenson, Mrs. Bessie, 23, Cambria.\n\nBenson, Flora, 3, Cambria.\n\nBare, Mrs. Bare, infant.\n\nBarkley, George.\n\nBarnes, Andrew, Conemaugh.\n\nBarron, Anton.\n\nBarron, Mrs.\n\nBenson, Cora Belle, 1\u00bd, Cambria.\n\nBerkey, Henry S., 45, Clinton street.\n\nBeske, John, 7, Cambria.\n\nBeske, Joseph, 5, Cambria.\n\nBeske, Frank, 3, Cambria.\n\nBeske, Lewis, 1, Cambria.\n\nBetzler, Frank, 9, Cambria.\n\nBetzler, Katie, 7, Cambria.\n\nBishop, Julius, 55, Cambria.\n\nBitner, A. B.\n\nBlair, Alfred, 53, Woodvale.\n\nBlair, Oliver, 25, Woodvale.\n\nBlair, Alfred, Jr., 14, Woodvale.\n\nBlair, Emanuel, 12, Woodvale.\n\nBlair, Rosana, 10, Woodvale.\n\nBloch, Mrs. Rose, 54, Conemaugh.\n\nBloch, Annie, 26, Conemaugh.\n\nBlock, Minnie, 15, Conemaugh.\n\nBloch, Emma, 13, Conemaugh.\n\nBoehler, Barbara, 7, Conemaugh.\n\nBoehler, Annie, 9, Conemaugh.\n\nBogus, William.\n\nBlough, Mrs. First Ward.\n\nBopp, Naomie, 7, Broad street.\n\nBonson, Charles R. Booser, Eddie, 14, Market street.\n\nBowers, George, Woodvale.\n\nBowersox, Mrs. Elia, 16, Market street.\n\nBowersox, Cordelia, 3, Market street.\n\nBowman, Jessie, 4, Woodvale.\n\nBowman, Blanche, 2, Woodvale.\n\nBoyer, Emma, 17, Woodvale.\n\nBoyle, Rose, 6, Cambria.\n\nBoyle, Bridget, 4, Cambria.\n\nBoyle, William, 2, Cambria.\n\nBoyle, Joseph, 8 months, Cambria.\n\nBraden, Patrick, Millville.\n\nBradley, Mrs. Elvira, 39, Conemaugh.\n\nBrawley, Mrs. Maggie, 42, Union street.\n\nBrawley, Robert J., 4, Union street.\n\nBrawley, John.\n\nBrennan, Mrs. Mary Ann, 46, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, Mary Ann, 23, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, Ellen, 19, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, Jane, 16, Woodvale.\n\nBrennan, Agnes, 13, Woodvale.\n\nBridges, Mrs. Jane, 64, Market street.\n\nBrindle. Vincent.\n\nBrindle, Frank.\n\nBrindle, Rose.\n\nBrinker, Henry.\n\nBriney, Matilda, 25. Woodvale.\n\nBrockner, Samuel, 28, Conemaugh.\n\nBrown, Mrs. Magdalena, 58, Cambria.\n\nBrown, Lizzie, 15, Woodvale.\n\nBrown, Mrs., Conemaugh.\n\nBuckhard, Mrs. Elizabeth, 50, Woodvale.\n\nBuckhard, Charles, 19, Woodvale.\n\nBuckhard, Mrs., 63, Woodvale.\n\nBuckley, Mrs. Mary, 48, Woodvale.\n\nBurket, Frank, 14, Washington street.\n\nBurket, Blair, 8.\n\nBurkhard, Howard, 12, Woodvale.\n\nBurkhard, Gussie J., 5, Woodvale.\n\nBurkhard, Charles C., 2, Woodvale.\n\nBurkhard, Mrs. Catherine, 85, Mineral Point.\n\nBurns, Peter, Woodvale.\n\nButler, John, 51, 84 John street.\n\nButler, Robert, 40, Millville.\n\nButler, Mrs., 70, Millville.\n\nButler, Annie, 17, Millville.\n\nButler, Fannie, 14, Millville.\n\nButler, George, 11, Millville.\n\nButler, Mrs. Sarah.\n\nByers, Mrs. Catherine, 46, Mineral Point.\n\nCallahan, Mary, 22, Locust street.\n\nCallahan, Mrs. Frank, Locust street.\n\nCarr, Mrs. Mary, 42, Woodvale.\n\nCarr, William, 7, Woodvale.\n\nCarr, Patrick, 22, Cambria.\n\nCarr, Mrs. Sarah, 20, Cambria.\n\nCartin, Mrs. Thomas, 46, Woodvale.\n\nCartin, Frank, 5, Woodvale.\n\nChristie, Mrs. Lizzie, 46, Woodvale.\n\nChristie, Daisy, 19, Woodvale.\n\nClark, Thomas, Jr., 9, Union street.\n\nClark, Annie, 5, Union street.\n\nClark, Hamilton.\n\nCoad, William, 12, cor. Market and Washington.\n\nCleary, Alice, Cambria.\n\nConrad, John, 21, Woodvale.\n\nConstable, Mrs. Sarah E., 48, Broad street.\n\nConstable, Clara, 16, Broad street.\n\nConstable, George, 39, Franklin.\n\nCope, Ahlum, 70, Conemaugh.\n\nCostlow, Michael, 70, Locust and Union streets.\n\nCostlow, Zita, 6, Woodvale.\n\nCostlow, Juniata, 2\u00bd, Woodvale.\n\nCostlow, Regina, 1, Woodvale.\n\nCraig, William, 8, 314\u00bd Walnut street.\n\nCreed, Kate, 26, 200 Washington street.\n\nCreed, Mary, 16, Washington street.\n\nCrown, Thomas, 51, Conemaugh.\n\nCrowthers, Samuel, 30, Cambria.\n\nCrowthers, Mrs. Verna, 27, Cambria.\n\nCulleton, George F., 1, Chestnut street.\n\nCulleton, John F., 2, Chestnut street.\n\nCummings, Mrs., Somerset street.\n\nCummings, \u2014, Somerset street.\n\nCunz, Mrs. Catherine, 37, Napoleon street.\n\nCunz, Edward, 12, Napoleon street.\n\nCunz, Gussie, 3, Napoleon street.\n\nCurtin, Johanna.\n\nCush, Annie, 17, 112 Railroad street.\n\nCush, Thomas, 1\u00bd, 116 Railroad street.\n\nCuster, Mrs. Emma J., 27, Bedford street.\n\nCurry, Robert.\n\nDarr, George E., 28, Millville.\n\nDavis, Martha, 18, Woodvale.\n\nDavis, Ada, 15, Woodvale.\n\nDavis, Mrs. Ann, 60, Locust street.\n\nDavis, Mrs. Mary, 54, Locust street.\n\nDavis, Delia, 22, Locust street.\n\nDavis, Evan, 16, Locust street.\n\nDavis, Reese, 13, Locust street.\n\nDavis, Mrs. Mary D., 55, Millville.\n\nDeible, Harry, Woodvale.\n\nDeihl, Mrs. Mary, 40, Conemaugh.\n\nDelaney, Charles, 18, 51 Conemaugh street.\n\nDevlin, Melissa, 12, East Conemaugh.\n\nDick, Cornell, 17, Cor. Locust and John streets.\n\nDill, Robert, 26, Woodvale.\n\nDill, Mrs. Robert, 26, Woodvale.\n\nDill, William, 7, Woodvale.\n\nDill, Harry, 3 Woodvale.\n\nDinkel, Adam, 50, Conemaugh.\n\nDishong, Lizzie, 22, Union street.\n\nDluhos, Jacob, 3, Cambria.\n\nDluhos, Mary, 3 months, Cambria.\n\nDolny, Mike, Cambria.\n\nDorillia, Mrs., 30, Cambria.\n\nDorillia, \u2014, Cambria.\n\nDorillia, \u2014, Cambria.\n\nDowns, Willie, Millville.\n\nDudzik, Mike, 21, Cambria.\n\nDudzik, Albert, 21, Cambria.\n\nEarly, Mrs. Ella, 59, Woodvale.\n\nEck, Ellen C., 6, Woodvale.\n\nEck, Edna Marie, 1\u00bd, Woodvale.\n\nEck, John B., 38, Conemaugh street.\n\nEck, Dora, 7, Conemaugh street.\n\nEck, Mabon, 2, Conemaugh street.\n\nEdmonds, Nancy.\n\nEdwards, Roger, 55, Millville.\n\nEdinger, Annie, 19, Millville.\n\nElder, Mrs. Cyrus, 49, Walnut street.\n\nElder, Nannie M., 23, Walnut street.\n\nEldridge, Pennell, 39, Morrellville.\n\nEldridge, Mrs. Sarah T., 71, Woodvale.\n\nEldridge, Mrs. Sallie, 27, Woodvale.\n\nEldridge, Clara, 3, Woodvale.\n\nEldridge, Annie, 1, Woodvale.\n\nElsaesser, Constantine, 44, Railroad street.\n\nElsaesser, Mrs. Frances, 41, Railroad street.\n\nElsaesser, Charles, 13, Railroad street.\n\nElsaesser, Adolph, 11, Railroad street.\n\nElsaesser, Maggie, 10, Railroad street.\n\nElsaesser, Rose, 4, Railroad street.\n\nElsaesser, Mary, 1, Railroad street.\n\nEnglish, John.\n\nEtchison, Samuel, 37, Hulbert House.\n\nEvans, Evan B., 50, Woodvale.\n\nEvans, Susannah, 16, Woodvale.\n\nEvans, Mrs. Mary, 55, Main street.\n\nEvans, Annie, 26, Millville.\n\nEvans, Jennie, 13, Millville.\n\nEvans, Susannah, 9, Millville.\n\nEvans, Idris, 3, Millville.\n\nEvans, Walter, 8, Vine street.\n\nEvans, Albert, 12, Conemaugh.\n\nEvans, Elizabeth.\n\nFairfax, Mrs. Susan, 94, Somerset street.\n\nFairfax, Mrs. G. W., 38, Somerset street.\n\nFedorizen, Miklosz, Cambria.\n\nFenlon, Patrick, 70, Conemaugh.\n\nFendra, E. H.\n\nFenn, John Fulton, 12, Locust street.\n\nFenn, Daisy, 10, Locust street.\n\nFenn, George Washington, 8, Locust street.\n\nFenn, Virginia, 5, Locust street.\n\nFenn, Esther, 1\u00bd, Locust street.\n\nFentiman, Edwin F., 19, Main street.\n\nFees, Frank, 23, Millville.\n\nFichtner, Carrie, Stonycreek street.\n\nFichtner, Annie, 21, Main street.\n\nFiddler, son of Jacob, Cambria.\n\nFindlay, Mrs. Ph\u0153be, 58, Woodvale.\n\nFindlay, Robert B., 17, Conemaugh.\n\nFingerhute, Mary, 18, Conemaugh street.\n\nFingle, Mrs. Mary.\n\nFink, Samuel P., 54, Conemaugh street.\n\nFink, Mrs. Mary, 47, Conemaugh street.\n\nFisher, John, 60, Cambria.\n\nFisher, Johanna, 19, Cambria.\n\nFisher, Kate, 9, Cambria.\n\nFisher, Eddie, 7, Cambria.\n\nFisher, George, 3, Cambria.\n\nFisher, August.\n\nFisher, William.\n\nFitzgerald, Mrs. Catherine. 40, Millville.\n\nFitzpatrick, Eliza, 15 months, Cambria.\n\nFitzharris, Mary J., 16, Franklin street.\n\nFitzharris, Sarah A., 15, Franklin street.\n\nFoling, August, Cambria.\n\nFoster, Mrs. Margaret, 64, Woodvale.\n\nFoster, Maggie, 29, Woodvale.\n\nFrank, August, 26, Washington street.\n\nFrank, Lena, 15, Washington street.\n\nFritz, Mrs. Matilda, 26, Horner street.\n\nFritz, Jane, 2, Horner street.\n\nFritz, Lily, 1, Horner street.\n\nGaffney, Mrs. Ellen, 26, Cambria.\n\nGaither, Willie, 15, South St.\n\nGardner, John.\n\nGeczie, John, 47, Cambria.\n\nGeczie, Veronica, 37, Cambria.\n\nGeczie, Stephen, 8, Cambria.\n\nGeczie, Annie, 4, Cambria.\n\nGeczie, August, 2, Cambria.\n\nGeczie, Belle, 3 months, Cambria.\n\nGeddes, Mrs. George, 40, Woodvale.\n\nGeisel, Julia, 9, Cambria.\n\nGeisel, Rolla, 9, Cambria.\n\nGeraldan, Mrs., 17, Conemaugh street.\n\nGillas, David, 66, Cambria.\n\nGiven, Cora, Millville.\n\nGlass, James, 45, School Alley.\n\nGolde, Harry, 5, Walnut street.\n\nGouchenour, Frank, 31, Conemaugh.\n\nGrant, Mrs. Kate, 24, Cambria.\n\nGrant, Bernard, 5, Cambria.\n\nGrant, John, 3, Cambria.\n\nGray, Mrs. Frances, 36, Woodvale.\n\nGray, Gerald, 5, Woodvale.\n\nGray, Inez, 3, Woodvale.\n\nGreenwood, Mary A., 8, Cambria.\n\nGreitzer, George, 27, Cambria.\n\nGreger, Ann.\n\nGriffith, Mr.\n\nGromley, Mrs. Magdalena, 48, Mineral Point.\n\nGromley, Mary M., 16, Mineral Point.\n\nGromley, Daniel J., 13, Mineral Point.\n\nGromley, Emanuel L., 9, Mineral Point.\n\nGromley, Emma B., Mineral Point.\n\nHager, Mrs. Mary, 62, Washington street.\n\nHagerty, Mrs. Mary J., 36, School alley.\n\nHagerty, Kate, 12, School alley.\n\nHagerty, Stella, 8, School alley.\n\nHaight, Annie, First Ward.\n\nHaltie, Miss.\n\nHaldiman, Hy, Woodvale.\n\nHammers, George.\n\nHammill, Mrs. Catherine, 70, Cambria.\n\nHamilton, Lou.\n\nHannan, Mamie, 22, Woodvale.\n\nHanekamp, Mrs. Louise, 28, Lincoln street.\n\nHanekamp, child.\n\nHarrigan, Mary L., Millville.\n\nHarris.\n\nHart, May, 9, Market street.\n\nHarkey, William G. Hess, Mrs. Haugh, John, Conemaugh.\n\nHayes, Thos., 10, Cambria.\n\nHayes, Annie, 5, Cambria.\n\nHayes, Agnes Gertrude, 3 weeks, Cambria.\n\nHeckman, Miss, 18, Cambria.\n\nHeidenthal, Mrs. Mary, 38, Woodvale.\n\nHeidenthal, Joseph, 14, Woodvale.\n\nHeidenthal, Annie, 12, Woodvale.\n\nHeidenthal, Phoebe, 10, Woodvale.\n\nHeidenthal, Bertha, 6, Woodvale.\n\nHeidenthal, Alfred, 2, Woodvale.\n\nHeingard, Annie, 22, Woodvale.\n\nHeine, Joseph, 1, Cambria.\n\nHeine, Amelia, 8 months, Cambria.\n\nHellenberger, Miss E.\n\nHellreigle, Chas. J., 28, Woodvale.\n\nHenahan, John, 40, Cambria.\n\nHenahan, Mrs. Mary, 24, Cambria.\n\nHenahan, Mary, 7, Cambria.\n\nHenahan, Catherene, 4, Cambria.\n\nHenahan, Frances, 1, Cambria.\n\nHenderson, Thomas, South Fork.\n\nHenderson, Robert, 6 months, Main street.\n\nHenning, John.\n\nHenning, Mary.\n\nHickey, Stephen, 9, Conemaugh.\n\nHicks, Miss Ella, Woodvale.\n\nHimes, Charles C., Conemaugh street.\n\nHimes, Mrs. C. C., Conemaugh street.\n\nHimes,| }| children.  \n---|---|---  \nHimes,  \nHimes,\n\nHinchman, Franklin, 2, Woodvale.\n\nHirsch, Henry, 10, Cambria.\n\nHockenberger, Ann, Napoleon street.\n\nHoffman, Mrs. Mary, 69, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Joseph, 10, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Mary, 8, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Peter, 78, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Frank C., 11, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Sehna, 3, Market street.\n\nHoffman, Lena, 19, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, George, 12, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Crissie, 9, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Albert, 4, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Walter, 2, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Stella, 6 months, Washington street.\n\nHoffman, Fred W., 42, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Mrs. Jennie, 40, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Lena, 19, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Henry, 65, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Mrs. Mary Ellen, 55, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Stewart, 24, Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman, Mrs., Conemaugh.\n\nHoffman.\n\nHoffman.\n\nHoffman.\n\nHoopes, Mrs. Maria, 25, Woodvale.\n\nHoopes, Ernest, 5, Woodvale.\n\nHoopes, Allen C., 6 months, Woodvale.\n\nHopkins, Hannah, 40, Locust street.\n\nHopkins, Elizabeth, 4, Conemaugh.\n\nHopkins, Geo., 8, Conemaugh.\n\nHopp, Mary E., 7 months, Vine street.\n\nHorner, Miss, Hulbert House.\n\nHorner, Elwood, 15, Levergood street.\n\nHornick, Wm., 23, Conemaugh.\n\nHough, Mrs. Louisa, 48, Conemaugh.\n\nHough, Patrick, 5, Conemaugh.\n\nHoughton, Mrs. Lizzie J., 24, Walnut street.\n\nHowe, Mary E., Washington street.\n\nHowe, Mrs. Nancy, 50, Bedford street.\n\nHowe, Robert G., 8, Bedford street.\n\nHowe, Mrs. W. J.,\n\nHowells, Maggie, 15, Union street.\n\nHowells, John, 25, Union street.\n\nHowells, Wm., 4 days, Union street.\n\nHughes, Lizzie A., 1, Chestnut street.\n\nHurst, Mrs. Minnie, 60, Washington street.\n\nHurst, Emily, 10, Washington street.\n\nHammell, Margaret, 14, Washington street.\n\nIllis, Daniel, Cambria.\n\nJames, John K., 8, Main street.\n\nJames, William, 10, Market street James, Mrs. John.\n\nJames, Benjamin, Third Ward.\n\nJanosky, Mrs. Lena, 27, Market street.\n\nJenkins, John, 20, Upper Yoder.\n\nJenkins, Harvey, 6, Vine street.\n\nJenkins, Thomas, Third Ward.\n\nJenkins, Mrs. Thomas, Third Ward.\n\nJenkins, \u2014.\n\nJohns, Mrs. Josephine, 32, Woodvale.\n\nJohns, Richard, 14, Woodvale.\n\nJohns, Silvie, 11, Woodvale.\n\nJohns, Stephen, 5, Woodvale.\n\nJohnson, Mrs. David, 40, Conemaugh.\n\nJohnson, Geraldine, 17, Conemaugh.\n\nJohnson, George, 17, Union street.\n\nJohnson, William, 15, Union street.\n\nJohnson, Gertrude, 13, Union street.\n\nJohnson, Lottie, 11, Union street.\n\nJohnson, Dollie, 7, Union street.\n\nJohnson, Frederick, 4, Union street.\n\nJohnson, Lulu, 3, Union street.\n\nJohnson, Ellen, Hulbert House.\n\nJones, Mrs. Alice, 65, Millville.\n\nJones, Mrs. Rachael, 41, Main street.\n\nJones, Ella, 11, Main street.\n\nJones, Sarah, 8, Main street.\n\nJones, Abner, 6, Main street.\n\nJones, Ida, 3, Main street.\n\nJones, Thomas, 6, Conemaugh street.\n\nJones, Elmer, 2, Conemaugh street.\n\nJones, Mrs. Jennie, 50, Woodvale.\n\nJones, Williams, 17, Woodvale.\n\nJones, Amanda, 40, Woodvale.\n\nJones, Pearl, 9, Woodvale.\n\nJones, William, 4 months, Woodvale.\n\nJones, James, 19, Pearl street.\n\nJones, Charles, 16, Pearl street.\n\nJones, Emma, Second Ward.\n\nJones, Walter B., 7, Main street.\n\nJones, Mrs. Margaret, 65, Llewellyn street.\n\nJones, Rev. E. W., 56, Vine street.\n\nJones, Mrs. Rev. E. W., 55, Vine street.\n\nKane, Mrs. Lidia, 44, Union street.\n\nKane, Ellsworth, 18, Union street.\n\nKane, Laura, 15, Union street.\n\nKane, Willie, 12, Union street.\n\nKane, Dollie, 10, Union street.\n\nKane, Lester, 2, Union street.\n\nKane, Emma, 21, Prospect.\n\nKane, Mrs. Ann, 60, Cambria City.\n\nKast, Mrs. Charlotte, 43, Clinton street.\n\nKalor, Mrs. Philapena, 67, Conemaugh.\n\nKalor, Jamanes.\n\nKalor, Jane.\n\nKaylor.\n\nKaylor.\n\nKaylor.\n\nKaylor.\n\nKeedy, Clay, 5, Millville.\n\nKeelan, Mrs. Catherine, 55, Cambria.\n\nKeelan, Daphne, 13, Cambria.\n\nKeelan, Edward.\n\nKeelan, Frank.\n\nKeene, Mrs. Elizabeth, 60, Union street.\n\nKeenan, Mrs. Jane, 26, Washington street.\n\nKeiflein, Philamena, Conemaugh.\n\nKeis, Mrs. Caroline, 24, Railroad street.\n\nKeis, infant. Railroad street.\n\nKehoe, Thomas, 24, South Fork.\n\nKelly, Mary M., 30, Millville.\n\nKelly, Mary C., 1\u00bd, Millville.\n\nKelly, Maggie, 17 days, Millville.\n\nKelly, Mrs. Ann, 45, Cambria.\n\nKelly, John W., 24, Cambria.\n\nKidd, Mrs. Jenny, 35, Walnut street.\n\nKidd, Laura, 5, Walnut street.\n\nKilgore, Mrs. W. A., 48, Washington street.\n\nKilgore, Jessie, 15, Washington street.\n\nKilgore, Fred, 12, Washington street.\n\nKilgore, Alex., 9, Washington street.\n\nKimpel, Mrs. Christ, 43, Clinton street.\n\nKinder, Thomas, 40, Moxham.\n\nKing, Mrs. James, 48, Broad street.\n\nKing, Katie M., 24, Broad street.\n\nKing, James, 5, Broad street.\n\nKinney, Mrs. Margaret, 31, Washington street.\n\nKinney,\u2014, 4, Washington street.\n\nKinney, Agnes, 10, Washington street.\n\nKintz, Teresa, 24, Cambria.\n\nKinley, Jane, Bausman alley.\n\nKirkbride, Fannie, 11, Hager Block.\n\nKirkbride, infant, Hager Block.\n\nKirkwood, Finley, 19, Conemaugh.\n\nKirlin, Mrs. Thomas, 32, Conemaugh street.\n\nKirlin, Willie, 2, Conemaugh street.\n\nKnable, John.\n\nKnable, Leonard.\n\nKnox, Thomas, 54, Somerset.\n\nKeohler, Mrs. Philomen, 87, Conemaugh.\n\nKeohler, Wm., 16, Conemaugh.\n\nKraft, Mrs. Maggie, 37, Walnut street.\n\nKraft, Herman, 12, Walnut street.\n\nKraft, Frederick, 10, Walnut street.\n\nKrieger, Katie.\n\nKunkle, Katie, 19, Washington street.\n\nLambreski, Willie, 2, Cambria.\n\nLavelle, Miss Mary, 31, Broad street.\n\nLavelle, Kate, 24, Broad street.\n\nLavelle, Sallie, 18, Broad street.\n\nLavelle, Mrs. Mary, 58, Broad street.\n\nLavelle, John F., 8, Conemaugh street.\n\nLavelle, Edgar R., 4, Conemaugh street.\n\nLavelle, Frances A., 6, Conemaugh street.\n\nLaystrom, Mrs., 30, Union street.\n\nLayton, infant, Broad street.\n\nLewis, Mrs. Lizzie, 28, Lewis alley.\n\nLichtenberg.\n\nLichtenberg.\n\nLichtenberg.\n\nLightner, James, 23, Cambria.\n\nLightner, Mrs. Mary, 21, Cambria.\n\nLightner, Eddie, 1, Cambria.\n\nLohr, Julia, 17, Bedford street.\n\nLonaenstein, Mrs. Ida, 27, Franklin.\n\nLudwig, Charles E., 30, Railroad street.\n\nLuther, Michael, 40, Cambria.\n\nMadden, Willie, 12, Cambria.\n\nMaloy, Mrs. Ann, 35, Millville.\n\nMaloy, Jane, Hulbert House.\n\nMarks, William.\n\nMartin, Edward, 48, River avenue.\n\nMartin, Mrs. Catherine, 40, Millville.\n\nMartin, Mary, 18, Millville.\n\nMartin, Ann, 7, Millville.\n\nMartin, Celia, 7, Millville.\n\nMasters, Margaret.\n\nMasterton, Miss.\n\nMayhew, Annie, 12, Woodvale.\n\nMayhew, Earnest, 9, Woodvale.\n\nMayhew, Harry, 6, Woodvale.\n\nMcAteer, Mrs. Jane, 38, Cambria.\n\nMcAneny, Sarah, 7, Cambria.\n\nMcAley, P.\n\nMcCann, Mrs. John, 30, Railroad street.\n\nMcCann, John, 31, Railroad street.\n\nMcCann, infant, Railroad street.\n\nMcClarren, Mary, 13, Cambria.\n\nMcClarren, Philip, 1\u00bd, Cambria.\n\nMcConaghy, Harry M., 6, Main street.\n\nMcConaghy, Frank A., 2, Main street.\n\nMcCoy, Mr., Railroad street.\n\nMcGrew, Oscar, Conemaugh.\n\nMcGuire, Constantine, 48, Woodvale.\n\nMcGuire, Ann, 19, Woodvale.\n\nMcGuire, Christian, 17, Woodvale.\n\nMcHugh, Kate, 19, Cambria.\n\nMcKeever, Mrs. Mary.\n\nMcKim, Mrs. Polly, 65, East Conemaugh.\n\nMcMeans, William, 33, Conemaugh street.\n\nMcPike, Rosie, 4, Cambria.\n\nMcWilliams, Susie, 13, Pittsburgh.\n\nMelczer, Robert, 35, Cambria.\n\nMelczer, Mrs. Johanna, 30, Cambria.\n\nMelczer, Albert, three weeks, Cambria.\n\nMelczer, Mary, 4, Cambria.\n\nMelczer, John, 2, Cambria.\n\nMerle, Mrs. George, Washington street.\n\nMerle, Mrs. Ida, 29, Washington street.\n\nMerle, Nettie, 5, Washington street.\n\nMerle, Elmer, 2, Washington street.\n\nMeredith, Mr. (probably duplicate).\n\nMeyers, Joseph, 70, Cambria.\n\nMeyers, Lizzie, 11, Millville.\n\nMeyers, Annie, 9, Millville.\n\nMeyers, Stella, 7, Millville.\n\nMeyers, Charlie, 5, Millville.\n\nMeyers, Philip, 1, Millville.\n\nMichalitch, Mrs. Mary, 38, Cambria.\n\nMichalitch, Martin, 6, Cambria.\n\nMichalitch, Mary, 3, Cambria.\n\nMichalitch, John, 1, Cambria.\n\nMiller, Lizzie, 11, Woodvale.\n\nMiller, John, 1, Cambria.\n\nMiller, Mrs. Sophia, 45, Cambria.\n\nMiller, John, 8, Cambria.\n\nMiller, Mary, 12, Horner street.\n\nMonteverde, Mrs. Maria, 40, Washington street.\n\nMonteverde, Joseph, 5, Washington street.\n\nMonteverde, Eleanora, 1\u00bd, Washington street.\n\nMoore, Melda, 20, Main street.\n\nMoreland, Mrs. Margaret, 48, Quarry street.\n\nMorgan, Gertie, 11, Millville.\n\nMorgan, Mrs. Mary R., 66, Conemaugh street.\n\nMorgan, Miss, Conemaugh.\n\nMoser, Heinrich, Cambria.\n\nMoschgat, Amelia, 22, Bedford street.\n\nMullen, Mrs. Mary, 65, Conemaugh street.\n\nMullen, Mrs. Margaret, 47, Prospect.\n\nMumma, Mrs. Eliza, 26, Washington street.\n\nMurphy, Mrs. Kate H., 48, Park Place.\n\nMurphy, Mrs. Maggie, 34, Brunswick Hotel.\n\nMurphy, John, 10, Brunswick Hotel.\n\nMurphy, Clara, 8, Brunswick Hotel.\n\nMurphy, Genevieve, 6, Brunswick Hotel.\n\nMurphy, Martin F., 4, Brunswick Hotel.\n\nMurphy, Maggie, 2, Brunswick Hotel.\n\nMurr, Stella, 16, Washington street.\n\nMurr, Frederick, 11, Washington street.\n\nMurr, Nellie, 6, Washington street.\n\nMurr, Frida, 3 months, Washington street.\n\nNadi, Frank.\n\nNainbaugh, Henry.\n\nNayuska, Mrs. Hannah, 65, Market street.\n\nNew, Frank.\n\nNewell, August.\n\nNewman, Banheim, 68, Washington street.\n\nNich, Peter, 30, Cambria.\n\nNich, William, 2, Cambria.\n\nNich, Lena, 23, Cambria.\n\nNich (infant), Cambria.\n\nNix, Frank, Cambria.\n\nNixon, Fannie, 5, Woodvale.\n\nNeice, Conrad.\n\nO'Brien, Mrs. Sarah, 60, Millville.\n\nO'Brien, Mrs. Ellen, 31, Millville.\n\nO'Brien, Mrs. Catherine, 55, Millville.\n\nO'Callahan, James, 70, Millville.\n\nO'Callahan, Mrs. Bridget, 68, Millville.\n\nO'Callahan, Miss Ella, 25, Millville.\n\nO'Connell, Edward, Cambria.\n\nO'Donnell, Mrs. Julia, 26, Washington street.\n\nO'Donnell, John, 2, Washington street.\n\nOgle, Mrs. Hettie M., 52, Washington street.\n\nOgle, Minnie T., 32, Washington street.\n\nOberlander, Robert, 35, Locust street.\n\nOberlander, Mrs. Robert, 30, Locust street.\n\nOberlander, Mary, 2, Locust street.\n\nO'Lily, Catherine, 20, Cambria.\n\nO'Neill, James, 2, Cambria.\n\nOswald, Eulaliah, 9, Third Ward.\n\nOsterman, Mrs. Victoria, 31, Cambria.\n\nOsterman, Conrad, 4, Cambria.\n\nOsterman, Joseph Jr., 6, Cambria.\n\nOsterman, Mary Ann, 1\u00bd, Cambria.\n\nO'Shea, Mary, Second Ward.\n\nOwens, Mrs. Mary, 62, Market street.\n\nOwens, John, 12, Conemaugh street.\n\nOwens, Amelia, 6, Conemaugh street.\n\nOwens, Willie, 4, Conemaugh street.\n\nOwens, Mrs. Elizabeth, 37.\n\nPfeifer, Charles, 30, Woodvale.\n\nPfeifer, Ella, 21, Woodvale.\n\nPheng, John, Conemaugh.\n\nPhillips, Mary, 16, Union street.\n\nPhillips, Grace, 12, Union street.\n\nPhillips, John J., 14, Market street.\n\nPhillips, David, 12, Market street.\n\nPhillips, Richard, 10, Market street.\n\nPhillips, Mary, 8, Market street.\n\nPhillips, Evan, 6, Market street.\n\nPipple, Mrs., Fourth Ward.\n\nPlummer, Alvin.\n\nPollocks, Louis, 19, Cambria.\n\nPolk, John.\n\nPotts, Mrs. Mary, 29, Market street.\n\nPowell, Mrs. Reese, 74, Main street.\n\nPratt, \u2014, Cambria.\n\nPratt, \u2014, Cambria.\n\nPritchard, Mrs. Henry, 48, Market street.\n\nPritchard, Howell, 9, Market street.\n\nPritchard, Alice, 5, Market street.\n\nPritchard, Rachael, 3, Market street.\n\nPrice, Mrs. Abe, 29, Millville.\n\nProgner, Samuel, 28, Conemaugh.\n\nProsser, Mrs. David, 68, Union street.\n\nPukey, Julius, 23, Cambria.\n\nPukey, Matilda, 1, Cambria.\n\nRaab, Mollie, 18, Clinton street.\n\nRaab, Bertha, 13, Clinton street.\n\nRaab, Katie, 3, Clinton street.\n\nRaab, Mrs. Minnie, 24, Washington street.\n\nRawn, Mrs. Henrietta, 78, Conemaugh.\n\nReam, Mrs. Mary, 34, Woodvale.\n\nReam, Joseph, 10, Woodvale.\n\nReam, Effie May, 6, Woodvale.\n\nReam, Cora, 1, Woodvale.\n\nReam, Frederick E., 23, Third Ward.\n\nReam, Amelia, 20, Third Ward.\n\nReamus, Gussie, 17, Woodvale.\n\nRecke, Mrs. Alex., 29, Washington street.\n\nReed, Charles.\n\nReese, Susie, 14, Millville.\n\nReese, Sarah, Woodvale.\n\nReese, Mrs., 70.\n\nReidel, Mrs. Teresa, 56, Conemaugh.\n\nReilly, Timothy, 27, Millville.\n\nRessler, John.\n\nReynolds, Mrs. Elizabeth, 40, Woodvale.\n\nReynolds, Idella, 14, Woodvale.\n\nReynolds, Columbia, Conemaugh.\n\nRhodes, Frank, 2, Somerset street.\n\nRich, Harry, 16, Stonycreek street.\n\nRichards, Mrs. Margaret, 40, Union street.\n\nRiffle, Mary C., Cambria.\n\nRiley, Mrs. Bridget, 40, Cambria.\n\nRiley, Annie, 8, Cambria.\n\nRiley, Katie, 6, Cambria.\n\nRipple, Emma, 24, Bedford street.\n\nRitter, Katie, 20, Cambria.\n\nRitter, Sophia, 12, Cambria.\n\nRodgers, Mary, Hulbert House.\n\nRodgers, Mary G., 19, Woodvale.\n\nRodgers, Mrs. Mary, Water street.\n\nRoland, Lizzie, 5 months, Conemaugh.\n\nRoose, John, 31, Haynes street.\n\nRosenfelt, \u2014.\n\nRosenfelt, \u2014.\n\nRosenfelt, \u2014.\n\nRosenfelt, \u2014.\n\nRosenfelt, \u2014.\n\nRosensteel, Matilda V., 19, Woodvale.\n\nRoth, Albert, 8, Cambria.\n\nRoth, Mary, 6, Cambria.\n\nRoth, Sebastian, First Ward.\n\nRuth, John.\n\nRowland, Mrs. E. J., 64, Market street.\n\nRyan, Sadie, 16, Washington street.\n\nRyan, Gertie, 3, Washington street.\n\nRyan, Mary, Third Ward.\n\nSagerson, Mrs., 96, Millville.\n\nSalenty, E.\n\nSample, Mrs. Catherine, 63, East Conemaugh.\n\nSarlous, Grace, 16, Cambria.\n\nSavage, Mrs. Bridget, 76, Woodvale.\n\nSaley, Joseph, 50, Millville.\n\nShaffer, Mrs. Mary, 43, Cambria.\n\nShaffer, Carl, 19, Cambria.\n\nSchanvisky, August, 10, Cambria.\n\nSherer, Mrs. Kate, 49, Conemaugh.\n\nSherer, Emma, 24, Conemaugh.\n\nSherer, Mary, 11, Conemaugh.\n\nSchiffhauer, Frances, 19, Washington street.\n\nSchittenhelm, Wilmena.\n\nSchmitt, William J., 7, Cambria.\n\nSchmitt, Mrs. Augustina, 38, Cambria.\n\nSchmitt, August, 8, Cambria.\n\nSchmitt, Anton, 2, Cambria.\n\nSchmitt, Annie, 1, Cambria.\n\nSchmitz, Ferdinand, Cambria.\n\nSchmitz, Gabriel, 50, Conemaugh.\n\nSchmidt, John L., Cambria.\n\nSchonhardt, Victoria, 56, Conemaugh.\n\nSchultz, Mrs. William, Clinton street.\n\nSchultz, Clinton street.\n\nSchultz, Clinton street.\n\nSchultz, Clinton street.\n\nSchultz, Clinton street.\n\nSchultz, Joseph, First Ward.\n\nSchweitzer, William, Conemaugh.\n\nSchweitzer, Catherine E., Conemaugh.\n\nSchurtz, Peter, 38, Conemaugh.\n\nSeibert, Mrs. Elizabeth, 56, Woodvale.\n\nSchaffer, Howard, 21, South Fork.\n\nShea, Mrs. Mary, 30, Locust street.\n\nSheldon, H.\n\nSherman, Mrs. Ann, 35, Market street.\n\nShinkey, Mrs., Second Ward.\n\nShorper, Jacob.\n\nShorper, Jacob, Jr.\n\nSilverman, Moses, Second Ward.\n\nSeigmund, Mrs. Matilda, 52, Woodvale.\n\nSeigmund, Mrs. Carolina, 28, Woodvale.\n\nSeigmund, John, 20, Woodvale.\n\nSinger, Mrs. E. H., Unionport, Ohio.\n\nSiroczki, Mrs. Mary, 30, Cambria.\n\nSiroczki, Mary, 7, Cambria.\n\nSiroczki, Annie, 4, Cambria.\n\nSiroczki, Lizzie, 2, Cambria.\n\nSkiba, Annie, 6, Cambria.\n\nSkiba, Sophia, 1\u00bd, Cambria.\n\nSmith, Harry, 5, Woodvale.\n\nSmith, Hattie, 4, Woodvale.\n\nSmith, infant, 3, Woodvale.\n\nSmith, Alice J., 2, Woodvale.\n\nSmith, Clarence, 6 months, Woodvale.\n\nSmith, George A., 38, Pearl street.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Jennie, 36, Pearl street.\n\nSmith, Charles, 7, Pearl street.\n\nSmith, Alum, 4, Pearl street.\n\nSmith, Effie, 9 months, Pearl street.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Mary, 21, Cambria.\n\nSmith, Mollie, 22, Cambria.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Ann, 55, Cambria.\n\nSmith, Francis, 3, Cambria.\n\nSmith, Charles, 1, Cambria.\n\nSmith, John M., 38, Millville.\n\nSmith, William, 9, Millville.\n\nSmith, Mrs. Mary, Third Ward.\n\nSmith, William, Third Ward.\n\nSmith, Esther, Third Ward.\n\nSmith, Charles, First Ward.\n\nSmith, Richard, First Ward.\n\nSmith, Frank, First Ward.\n\nSnyder, Polly, 14, Woodvale.\n\nSnyder, William, 8, Woodvale.\n\nSnyder, Annie, 6, Woodvale.\n\nSnyder, John, 3, Woodvale.\n\nSnyder, Patrick V., 5 months, Woodvale.\n\nSnyder, Hollis, Woodvale.\n\nSnyder, Mary.\n\nSnyder, Annie.\n\nSnyder, John.\n\nSnyder, Mary E.\n\nSnyder, Harrison V.\n\nSpeers, Mrs. L. E.\n\nSpenger, Mrs. Catherine, 56, Stonycreek street.\n\nSpenger, Edward, 16, Stonycreek street.\n\nSpoller, Mrs.\n\nSpoller, Lee.\n\nStansfield, James C., 30, Woodvale.\n\nStansfield, Mrs. J. C., 25, Woodvale.\n\nStansfield, Ralph, 9 weeks, Woodvale.\n\nSteckman, Fred, 42, Cambria.\n\nStewart, Watson, 60, Pearl street.\n\nStewart, Mrs., 70, Walnut street.\n\nStews, Louis, Walnut street.\n\nStinely, Annie, 4, Cambria.\n\nStinely, infant, 4 months, Cambria.\n\nStork, Casper, 43, Walnut street.\n\nStork, Mary, 38, Walnut street.\n\nStork, John, 20, Walnut street.\n\nStork, Lizzie, 14, Walnut street.\n\nStrauss, Charles S., Conemaugh.\n\nStrayer, Katie, 22, Market street.\n\nStrayer, Bertha, 14, Market street.\n\nStroup, Henry, Conemaugh.\n\nStufft, Vera, 10, Woodvale.\n\nStufft, Earl B., 8, Woodvale.\n\nStufft, Lula B., 6, Woodvale.\n\nStufft, Elda M., 3, Woodvale.\n\nStufft, infant, four months, Woodvale.\n\nSuder, Lizzie, 9, Millville.\n\nSuder, James, 5, Millville.\n\nSullivan, Mrs. Catherine, 55, Millville.\n\nSwank, Leroy, 4, Main street.\n\nSwank, Miss, Morris street.\n\nSweitzer, William, 35, Morrellville.\n\nTemple, Leroy.\n\nThoburn, John, 40, Millville.\n\nThoburn, Mrs. Flora, 36, Millville.\n\nThoburn, John, Jr., 10, Millville.\n\nThoburn, Harry, 1, Millville.\n\nThomas, Tydvil, 19, Millville.\n\nThomas, Mrs. Annie E., 56, Napoleon street.\n\nThomas, Mrs. Ann, 41, Woodvale.\n\nThomas, Albert E., 17, Woodvale.\n\nThomas, Vivian D., 15, Woodvale.\n\nThomas, James Roy.\n\nThomas, Sylvester.\n\nThomasberger, Fannie, 42, Conemaugh.\n\nThomasberger, Nellie, 13, Conemaugh.\n\nThomasberger, Charles, 11, Conemaugh.\n\nThurin, Levi.\n\nTotas, Jacob, Cambria.\n\nTotas, Sophia, Cambria.\n\nTotas, Michael, Cambria.\n\nTotas, Wavreck, Cambria.\n\nTrefts, William S.\n\nTross, W. J. Sr., 43, Woodvale.\n\nTross, Katie, 19, Woodvale.\n\nTross, William, 17, Woodvale.\n\nTross, Conrad, 16, Woodvale.\n\nTross, Charles, 13, Woodvale.\n\nTross, George, 9, Woodvale.\n\nTross, Louis, 7, Woodvale.\n\nTross, Edward, 6, Woodvale.\n\nTucker, Mrs. Margaret N., 45, Woodvale.\n\nTucker, Lillian G., 18, Woodvale.\n\nTucker, Mabel, 6, Woodvale.\n\nTynan, Michael J., 49, Conemaugh.\n\nTynan, Mrs. M. J., 47, Conemaugh.\n\nUnverzagt, Lulu, 23, Washington street.\n\nVallance, David, 55, Conemaugh street.\n\nVallance, Mrs. Sarah, 66, Conemaugh street.\n\nVallance, Annie, 21, Conemaugh street.\n\nValentine, Mrs. Carrie, Market street.\n\nValentine, Alexander L., 14, Market street.\n\nValentine, Annie May, 11, Market street.\n\nValentine, Burt, 7, Market street.\n\nValentine, Howard, 4, Market street.\n\nValentine, Ruth, 1\u00bd Market street.\n\nVarner, Viola, 12, Cambria.\n\nVarner, Sarah, 10, Cambria.\n\nVarner, Ida, 7, Cambria.\n\nVarner, Ella, 5, Cambria.\n\nVarner, infant, six weeks, Cambria.\n\nVeith, Mrs. Carrie, 52, Stonycreek street.\n\nVeith, Emma, 14, Stonycreek street.\n\nVoeghtly, Mrs. Von Alt, Henry, Clinton street.\n\nWagnor, Mrs. Henry, Cambria.\n\nWagnor, Frank, Cambria.\n\nWagnor, John, Cambria.\n\nWalker, Conrad, 27, Clinton street.\n\nWalker, Ida J., 22, Conemaugh.\n\nWalser, Mrs. Ann, Alum Bank, Pa.\n\nWard, Ella, Cambria.\n\nWarren, Edward, 28, Millville.\n\nWaters, Thomas J., 15, Conemaugh.\n\nWatkins, Mary J., 22, Washington street.\n\nWearn, Mrs. Priscilla, 66, Walnut street.\n\nWearn, Richard, 30, King street.\n\nWearn, Mrs. Ella, 27, King street.\n\nWearn, Myrtle, 3, King street.\n\nWeaver, Joseph H., 19, Woodvale.\n\nWeaver, Margaret J., Second Ward.\n\nWebber, Christian, 31, Woodvale.\n\nWehelco, John, Cambria.\n\nWehn, Casper, 80, Clinton street.\n\nWeinzarl, Annie, 13, Cambria.\n\nWeinzarl, Martha, 11, Cambria.\n\nWeinzarl, Sarah, 7, Cambria.\n\nWeinzarl, Mollie, 5, Cambria.\n\nWeinzarl, John, 3, Cambria.\n\nWeinzarl, George, 4 months, Cambria.\n\nWeisc, Rosa, 10, Cambria.\n\nWhite, Annie, 23, Market street.\n\nWhite, Raymond, 4, Youngstown, O.\n\nWickersham, Richard G., 26, Woodvale.\n\nWilson, Mrs. Lavina, 38, East Conemaugh.\n\nWilson, James, 33, Mineral Point.\n\nWilson, Henry, 58, Millville.\n\nWilson, Mr., Cambria.\n\nWiseman, Charles, 26, Conemaugh.\n\nWiseman, Emma, 4, Conemaugh.\n\nWiseman, August, 2, Conemaugh.\n\nWitz, Sarah, Third Ward.\n\nWolf, Anthony, 24, Cambria.\n\nWolf, Albert, 1\u00bd, Cambria.\n\nWolford, Andrew, Conemaugh.\n\nWolford, Conemaugh.\n\nWolford, Conemaugh.\n\nWolford, Conemaugh.\n\nWoren, Richard, Walnut street.\n\nWoren, Mrs. Richard, Walnut street.\n\nWoren, Willie, 6, Walnut street.\n\nWoren, \u2014\u2014\u2014, child, Walnut street.\n\nWoren, \u2014\u2014\u2014, child, Walnut street.\n\nWoren, Mrs. Priscilla, 60, Walnut street.\n\nWoren, Miss, 24, Walnut street.\n\nWoren, Mrs. Thomas, Walnut street.\n\nYocum, Samuel, Third Ward.\n\nYost, Laura, 18, Grant street.\n\nYost, Lottie, Jackson street.\n\nYoung, Mamie, 12, Broad street.\n\nYoung, Katie, 10, Broad street Youst, Mr.\n\nYoust, Eddie.\n\nZellar, Rose.\n\nZern, Miss.\n\nZimmerman, Milton, 19, Locust street.\n\nZimmerman, Morgan, 11, Young's alley.\n\nZimmerman, Owen N.\n\n## Bibliography\n\nAlexander, Edwin P., The Pennsylvania Railroad, A Pictorial History. W. W. Norton & Co., New York, 1947.\n\nAmory, Cleveland, The Last Resorts. Harper & Brothers, New York, 1952.\n\nAndrews, J. Cutler, Pittsburgh's Post-Gazette. Chapman & Grimes, Boston, 1936.\n\nBarton, William E., The Life of Clara Barton, Founder of the American Red Cross. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston and New York, 1922.\n\nBeale, The Reverend David J., Through the Johnstown Flood. Hubbard Brothers, Philadelphia, Boston, 1890.\n\nBiographical Directory of the American Congress, 1774-1961. U.S. Government Printing Office, Washington, D.C., 1961.\n\nBiographical and Portrait Cyclopedia of Cambria County. Philadelphia, 1896.\n\nBishop, Philip W., The Beginnings of Cheap Steel. Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C., 1959.\n\nBridge, James Howard, The Inside History of the Carnegie Steel Company. The Aldine Book Co., New York, 1903.\n\nBruce, Robert V., 1877: Year of Violence. The New Bobbs-Merrill Co., Indianapolis-New York, 1959.\n\nBurgess, George H., and Kennedy, Miles C., Centennial History of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company 1846-1946. Pennsylvania Railroad Co., Philadelphia, 1949.\n\nCarnegie, Andrew, Autobiography. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston and New York, 1920.\n\nCarson, Herbert N., The Romance of Steel, The Story of a Thousand Millionaires. A. S. Barnes, New York, 1907.\n\nCentury Cyclopedia of History and Biography of Pennsylvania. Century Publishing Co., Chicago, 1904.\n\nChambers, Julius, Lovers Four and Maidens Five, a Story of the Allegheny Mountains. Porter & Coates, Philadelphia, 1886.\n\nChapman, The Reverend H. L., Memoirs of an Itinerant. Privately published, no dates or place of publication listed.\n\nClark, C. B., C. B. Clark's Johnstown Directory and Citizens Register. Altoona, 1889.\n\nClark, Victor S., History of Manufacturers in U.S., Vol. II, 1860-1893. Peter Smith (with permission Carnegie Institute of Washington), New York, 1949.\n\nConnelly, Frank, and Jenks, George C., Official Hisory of the John-town Flood. Journalist Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, 1889.\n\nDiary of Isadore Lilly. Ebensburg, 1889.\n\nDictionary of American Biography. Charles Scribner's Sons, 1937.\n\nDieck, Herman, The Johnstown Flood, Philadelphia, 1889.\n\nEpler, Percy H., The Life of Clara Barton. The Macmillan Co., New York, 1915.\n\nFerris, George T., The Complete History of the Johnstown and Conemaugh Valley Flood. H. S. Goodspeed & Co., New York, 1889.\n\nField, The Reverend C. N., After the Flood. Philadelphia, 1889.\n\nFitch, John A., The Steel Workers. Russell Sage Foundation, New York, 1911.\n\nGeneral Alumni Catalogue of University of Pennsylvania, 1922.\n\nGrand-View Cemetery, An Historical Sketch. Johnstown, 1931.\n\nHall, John W., Fact Sheet of the Flood of 1889. (Compiled for the 75th anniversary of the disaster.)\n\nHarvey, George, Henry Clay Frick. Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1928.\n\nHeiser, Victor, M.D., An American Doctor's Odyssey. W. W. Norton & Co., New York, 1936.\n\nHendrick, Burton J., Life of Andrew Carnegie. Doubleday, Doran & Co., New York, 1932.\n\nHendrick, Burton J., and Henderson, Daniel, Louise Whitfield Carnegie; The Life of Mrs. Andrew Carnegie. Hastings House, New York, 1950.\n\nHistorical Sketch and Manual of Shady Side Presbyterian Church. Pittsburgh, 1892.\n\nHolbrook, Stewart H., The Age of the Moguls. Doubleday, New York, 1954.\n\nIllustrated Historical Atlas Combination of Cambria County. Philadelphia, 1890.\n\nInterviews with flood survivors filmed by WJAC-TV, Johnstown, 1964.\n\nJackson, R. M. S., M.D., The Mountain. J. B. Lippincott & Co., 1860.\n\nJohnson, Tom L., My Story. B. W. Huebsch, New York, 1911.\n\nJohnson, Willis Fletcher, History of the Johnstown Flood. Edgewood Publishing Co., Philadelphia, 1889.\n\nJohnstown Borough Council Minute Book, 1889.\n\nJosephson, Matthew, The Robber Barons. Harcourt, Brace and Co., New York, 1934.\n\nLangford, Gerald, The Richard Harding Davis Years. Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York, 1961.\n\nLorant, Stefan, Pittsburgh, The Story of an American City. Doubleday, New York, 1964.\n\nMcLaurin, J. J., The Story of Johnstown. James M. Place, Harrisburg, 1890.\n\nMatthews, Donald H., Jr., Presbyterians in the Upper Conemaugh Valley. Johnstown, 1957.\n\nMonthly Weather Review. United States Signal Service, May 1889.\n\nMorison, Elting E., Men, Machines, and Modern Times. M.I.T. Press, Cambridge, 1966.\n\nNational Encyclopedia of American Biography.\n\nO'Connor, Harvey, Mellon's Millions. John Day Co., New York, 1933.\n\nO'Connor, Richard, Johnstown the Day the Dam Broke. J. B. Lippincott Co., Philadelphia, 1957.\n\nOperations of the Board of Health in Consequence of the Floods at Johnstown. Harrisburg, 1891.\n\nOrvis, Charles F., Fishing With the Fly. Manchester, Vermont, 1883.\n\nPittsburgh and Allegheny Illustrated Review. Pittsburgh, 1889.\n\nPittsburgh Directory 1887-88.\n\nReade, Charles, Put Yourself in His Place. 1870.\n\nRecollections of flood survivors recorded on questionnaires put out by the Greater Johnstown Chamber of Commerce in commemoration of the 75th anniversary of the disaster; on file at the Cambria County Historical Society, Ebensburg.\n\nRecord Books, Court of Common Pleas. Pittsburgh.\n\nReport of Citizens Relief Committee of Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh, 1890.\n\nReport on the Dedication of the Monument to the Unknown Dead Who Perished in the Flood at Johnstown, May 31, 1889.\n\nReport of the Secretary of the Flood Relief Commission. Harrisburg, 1890.\n\nSesquicentennial of Cambria County. Cambria County Historical Society, Ebensburg, 1954.\n\nShank, William H., The Amazing Pennsylvania Canals. The Historical Society of York County, Pennsylvania, 1965.\n\nShappee, Nathan D., A History of Johnstown and the Great Flood of 1889: A Study of Disaster and Rehabilitation. Thesis filed at the University of Pittsburgh, 1940.\n\nSipes, William B., The Pennsylvania Railroad. Pennsylvania Railroad Co., Philadelphia, 1875.\n\nSlattery, Gertrude Quinn, Johnstown and Its Flood. Wilkes-Barre, 1936.\n\nStorey, Henry Wilson, History of Cambria County, Pennsylvania. Lewis Publishing Co., New York, 1907.\n\nStrayer, Harold H., and London, Irving L., A Photographic Story of the 1889 Johnstown Flood. Johnstown, 1964.\n\nSwank, James M., Cambria County Pioneers. Allen, Lane & Scott, Philadelphia, 1910.\n\n\u2014\u2014\u2014, History of the Manufacture of Iron in All Ages. American Iron and Steel Association, Philadelphia, 1892.\n\nTaft, Pauline Dakin, The Happy Valley (The Elegant Eighties in Upstate New York). Photographer, Leonard Dakin. Syracuse University Press, Syracuse, New York, 1965.\n\nTestimony Taken by the Pennsylvania Railroad Following the Johnstown Flood of 1889. Two copies in possession of Irving London, Johnstown, and the author.\n\nToasts and Responses at the Banquet Given by the Chamber of Commerce of Pittsburgh, May 27, 1892, at the Duquesne Club.\n\nTransactions American Society of Civil Engineers. June 1891.\n\nVan Rensselaer, M. G., In the Heart of the Alleghenies. Allen, Lane & Scott, Philadelphia, 1885.\n\nVeteran Employes Association of the Pittsburgh Division of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Pittsburgh, 1902.\n\nVictims of the Johnstown Flood. Johnstown, 1890.\n\nWalker, James H., The Johnstown Horror. L. P. Miller & Co., Chicago, 1889.\n\nWallace, Paul A. W., Pennsylvania, Seed of a Nation. Harper & Row, New York, 1962.\n\nWatkins, J. Elfreth, History of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company, 1846-96. Withheld from publication, bound proofs.\n\nWeil, The Reverend Carl, The Rider of Johnstown. Pittsburgh, 1892.\n\nWilson, William Bender, History of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company. H. J. Coates & Co., Philadelphia, 1899.\n\nWinkler, J. K., Incredible Carnegie. Vanguard Press, New York, 1931.\n\nWorld's Charity to the Conemaugh Valley Sufferers and Who Received It, The. Harry M. Benshoff, Publisher, Johnstown, 1890.\n\nMAGAZINES\n\nEngineering News\n\nForest and Stream\n\nHarper's New Monthly Magazine, August 1883\n\nHarper's Weekly\n\nIron Age, The\n\nLe Monde Illustr\u00e9, June 29, 1889\n\nLeslie's Weekly\n\nNorth American Review, August 1889\n\nPennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography (which contains, in its July and October issues of 1933, much of a semi-official but incomplete report on the disaster, written by the noted historian, John B. McMaster)\n\nNEWSPAPERS\n\nBoston Daily Globe\n\nBoston Morning Journal\n\nBoston Post\n\nCambria Freeman\n\nChicago Herald\n\nCincinnati Enquirer\n\nGreensburg Tribune and Herald\n\nJohnstown Daily Democrat\n\nJohnstown Daily Tribune\n\nJohnstown Tribune-Democrat\n\nJohnstown Weekly Democrat\n\nLondon Times\n\nMansfield (Mass.) News\n\nNew York Daily Graphic\n\nNew York Herald\n\nNew York Sun\n\nNew York Times\n\nNew York Tribune\n\nNew York World\n\nPhiladelphia Press\n\nPittsburgh Commercial Dispatch\n\nPittsburgh Post\n\nPittsburgh Post-Gazette\n\nPittsburgh Press\n\nRocky Mountain News (Denver)\n\nUtica Saturday Globe\n\n## Index\n\nAdams, Ignatius,\n\nAdams, Solomon, Samuel, and Rachael,\n\nAdams Street schoolhouse (morgue), , ,\n\nAllegheny County, Pennsylvania,\n\nAllegheny Mountain, , , \u201346,\n\nAllegheny Mountains, , , ,\n\nAllegheny River, , , , , ,\n\nAlma Hall (Odd Fellows), , \u2013167, \u201370, , ,\n\nAltoona, Pennsylvania, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,\n\nAmerican Iron and Steel Association,\n\nAmerican Doctor's Odyssey, An (Heiser),\n\nAmerican Notes (Dickens),\n\n\"AO\" Tower, , ,\n\nArgyle Coal Company,\n\nArnold, Matthew,\n\nAssociated Press, ,\n\nAstor, John Jacob,\n\nAtlantic City, New Jersey,\n\nB&O Railroad, , , , , , , , ,\n\nBaker, John, ,\n\nBarton, Clara, , , \u201331\n\nBaumgardner, Jacob,\n\nBeale, Reverend David, , , , , , , ,\n\nexperience in the flood, \u201367\n\nnamed as emergency morgue head,\n\nBear Creek,\n\nBear Rock Run,\n\nBeaver Dam Run,\n\nBedford, Pennsylvania, ,\n\nBell, S. E.,\n\nBellefonte, Pennsylvania, ,\n\nBenford, F. A., ,\n\nBenford, Walter, \u201357\n\nBennett, H. M., \u2013107\n\nBens Creek, ,\n\nBensen, Reuben,\n\nBenshoff, Arthur,\n\nBessemer, Sir Henry,\n\nBessemer process (as developed at Johnstown), \u201370\n\nBeverly, Massachusetts,\n\nBidwell, D. W. C., , , ,\n\nBixby, Clarence,\n\nBlairsville, Pennsylvania,\n\nBlue Knob,\n\nBolivar, Pennsylvania, , , \u2013181,\n\nBooth, Edwin,\n\nBooth & Flinn,\n\nBoston, Massachusetts,\n\nBoston Post, ,\n\nBottle Run,\n\nBowen, John Eliot,\n\nBoyer, Dan, \u201393,\n\nBraddock, Pennsylvania, , , , , ,\n\nBraddock, General Edward,\n\nBrinker, Mrs. A. D., , , ,\n\nBrinkerhoff, H. W.,\n\nBrooklyn Bridge,\n\nBrown, Reverend G. W.,\n\nBrown, Henry S., \u2013206,\n\nBrownstown, Pennsylvania,\n\nBryan, Elizabeth, , , ,\n\nBucannon, John,\n\nBuck, Mrs. Ann,\n\nBuffalo Bill (William Cody),\n\nBurket, Mrs. John,\n\nBurns, Robert,\n\nBurt, F. B.,\n\nButler, Charles, \u201357\n\nButtermilk Falls, , , ,\n\nCambria City, Pennsylvania, , , , , , , , ,\n\nCambria County, Pennsylvania, , , , , ,\n\nCambria Iron Company, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,\n\nleads in pioneering Bessemer steel, \u201371\n\nconcern over South Fork dam, \u201375\n\nplans to rebuild after the flood, \u201337\n\nCape May, New Jersey,\n\nCarnegie, Andrew, , , , \u201361, \u201369, \u201372, , , ,\n\nearly enthusiasm for Alleghenies as resort area, \u201347\n\nreaction to news of the disaster, \u201357\n\nCarnegie, Phipps & Company, , , ,\n\nCarpenter, C. A.,\n\nCentennial of the U.S. Constitution,\n\nChalfant, John W.,\n\nChambers, James,\n\nChambers, Minnie, ,\n\nChambersburg, Pennsylvania, ,\n\nChapman, Reverend H. L., , \u201334, \u201385, , ,\n\nexperience in the flood, \u201356\n\nChestnut Ridge,\n\nChicago, Illinois, , , ,\n\nChicago Herald, , ,\n\nChicago Inter-Ocean,\n\nChicago Limited, \u2013104\n\nCincinnati, Ohio, ,\n\nCincinnati Enquirer, ,\n\nCivil War, , , , , , , , , ,\n\nClapboard Run,\n\nClark, Rose,\n\nClarke, Charles,\n\nClarke, Louis, ,\n\nCleveland, Ohio,\n\nClifford, Hugh,\n\nConemack Old Town,\n\nConemaugh, Pennsylvania,\n\nConemaugh Gap, ,\n\nConemaugh River, , , , , , , , , ,\n\nConey Island, New York,\n\nConnelly, Frank,\n\nConnelly, William,\n\nCoolidge, Calvin,\n\nCresson, Pennsylvania, ,\n\ndevelopment as summer resort, \u201347\n\nCrute, F. Jennings, , ,\n\nCumberland Valley Railroad,\n\nDale Dyke,\n\nDaly, Augustin, ,\n\nDavis, California Tom,\n\nDavis, Richard Harding, , \u201317\n\nDauphin County, Pennsylvania,\n\nDay Express, , , , , , ,\n\nat East Conemaugh, \u201323\n\nDeckert, Frank, ,\n\nDibert, John, , , ,\n\nDick, Chal, ,\n\nDickens, Charles,\n\nDiller, Reverend Alonzo,\n\nDougherty, C. P., \u201396,\n\nDuquesne Club, Pittsburgh, ,\n\nDurno, John,\n\nEast Conemaugh, Pennsylvania, , , , , , , \u201315,\n\ntrains held on morning of flood, \u201387\n\nflood strikes, \u201326\n\nEast McKeesport, Pennsylvania,\n\nEaston, Levi,\n\nEbensburg, Pennsylvania, , , ,\n\nEddyville, Kentucky,\n\nEdgar Thomson works, , , , , ,\n\nEhrenfeld, Emma, \u201397, \u2013105\n\nEiffel Tower,\n\nEisenhower family,\n\nElder, Cyrus, \u201385, , , , , , ,\n\nEldridge, Samuel,\n\nEngineering and Building Record, ,\n\nEngineering News, , \u201348\n\nEpidemics: diphtheria, \u201332\n\ncholera,\n\ntyphus,\n\ntyphoid fever,\n\nErie Canal, ,\n\nFallen Timber Run,\n\nFenn, John, and family,\n\nFire at the stone bridge, \u201350, \u201373,\n\nFisher, Squire, ,\n\nFisher, George,\n\nFishing in the 1880's, \u201348\n\nFitch, John,\n\nFitzharris, Christ and family,\n\nFletcher, John,\n\nFlinn, William, , ,\n\nForest and Stream, \u201352\n\nFoster, Barbara,\n\nFranco-Prussian War, ,\n\nFrank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, , ,\n\nFranklin, Pennsylvania,\n\nFrick, Henry Clay, , \u201358, , , , , , , , ,\n\nFrick Coke Company, H. C., \u201358,\n\nFritz, George and John,\n\nFronheiser, Bessie, ,\n\nFulton, John, , \u201377, , , , , , , , ,\n\nstature in Johnstown, \u201373\n\nletter to Morrell concerning the South Fork dam, \u201374\n\ndelivers impassioned speech, \u201337\n\nGalager, Herbert,\n\nGautier Steel Company, , , , , ,\n\nGeis, Mrs. Abbie, \u201362,\n\nGeis, Foster and Quinn, ,\n\nGeis, John, ,\n\nGeis, Mrs. John,\n\nGeorge, F. N.,\n\nGeorge, Henry,\n\nGibbs, George,\n\nGiffen, Kate,\n\nGoldenberg, Henry,\n\n\"Gospel of Wealth,\"\n\nGould, Jay,\n\nGraham, George,\n\nGramling, George,\n\nGrandview Cemetery, , \u201368\n\n\"Great Strike\" of 1877, ,\n\nGreen Hill, , , , , ,\n\nGreensburg, Pennsylvania, , , , ,\n\nGromley, Christopher, and family,\n\nGrubbtown, Pennsylvania, ,\n\nHaak, Charles,\n\nHank, William,\n\nHanna, Marcus Alonzo,\n\nHarding, Warren G.,\n\nHarper's Weekly, , ,\n\nHarrisburg, Pennsylvania, , ,\n\nHarrison, President Benjamin, , ,\n\nHart, Captain A. N., , , ,\n\nHartley, G. B., \u201357\n\nHastings, Daniel Hartman, \u2013202, , , , , , , , , , , ,\n\nHaws Cement Works,\n\nHeidenfelter family,\n\nHeiser, George, \u201338, , , , ,\n\nHeiser, Mathilde, \u201338, , . ,\n\nHeiser, Victor, \u201338, , , , , , , , ,\n\nexperience in the flood, \u201354\n\nHelman, Sam,\n\nHenderson, Thomas,\n\nHeppenstall, Bill, ,\n\n\"Her Last Message,\"\n\nHess, John, \u201315, ,\n\nHipp, Libby, \u201362,\n\nHirst, Mrs.,\n\nHite, Mrs. Ellen,\n\nHoffman, Ben,\n\nHoffman, Gottfried, and family,\n\nHolley, Alexander,\n\nHomestead, Pennsylvania, , ,\n\nHoover, Herbert,\n\nHorne, Durbin, ,\n\nHorner, Charles,\n\nHorner, Daisy,\n\nHorner, Jacob,\n\nHorseshoe Curve,\n\nHow the Other Half Lives (Riis),\n\nHuff, George F.,\n\nHulbert house, , , ,\n\ndestroyed by the flood, \u201357\n\nHungarians, , , , ,\n\nblamed for widespread crime, \u201313\n\nIrwin, Pennsylvania,\n\nJackson, Robert Montgomery Smith, \u201346\n\nJeannette, Pennsylvania,\n\nJenkins, James and Ann (Jenkins case), \u201359\n\nJenks, George C.,\n\nJersey City, New Jersey,\n\nJohnson, Tom L., , ,\n\nJohnson Street Rail Company, ,\n\nJohnstown, Pennsylvania, , \u201335\n\nbefore the flood, \u201338\n\ncanal basin,\n\nhistory of floods, \u201366;\n\ndevelopment of steel industry, \u201371\n\non the morning of May , \u201387\n\nmap,\n\nflood strikes, \u201350\n\non the morning of June 1, \u201389\n\ncitizens organize after the flood, \u201390\n\nstatistics on deaths caused by the flood, \u201396\n\nfirst relief arrives, \u2013204\n\nthe press arrives, \u2013210\n\nHungarian scare, \u201313\n\nas the press described it, \u201321\n\nlegends, \u201324\n\nmassive charity, \u201332\n\nrecovery, \u201338\n\nreaction to trials,\n\nceremonies for the unknown dead, \u201368\n\nJohnstown City Council,\n\nJohnstown Horror, The,\n\nJohnstown Tribune, , , , , , \u201356, \u201364, , , , \u201398, , , , , , ,\n\nJones, B. F.,\n\nJones, Captain Bill, , \u201372, , , ,\n\nJoseph Horne & Company,\n\nJuniata Crossing, Pennsylvania,\n\nKalamazoo, Michigan,\n\nKeenan, Tom,\n\nKehoe, Thomas,\n\nKelly, William, \u201369,\n\nKeltz, S. W., \u2013107\n\nKempel, Christian,\n\nKernville, Pennsylvania, , , , ,\n\nKilrain, Jake,\n\nKiskiminetas River,\n\nKrebs, Fred, ,\n\nKnox, Philander C., , , , , ,\n\nKnox & Reed, ,\n\nKoch, Henry,\n\nKress, Mrs. Charles,\n\nKuhn, William,\n\nKurz & Allison,\n\nLake Conemaugh, , , , , , , , ,\n\nactivities on the morning of the flood, \u201393\n\nlast moments before the dam failed, \u2013100\n\nLamb's Bridge, , ,\n\nLatrobe, Pennsylvania,\n\nLaurel Hill, , , , ,\n\nLaurel Run,\n\nLawrence, J. J.,\n\nLeap, Mrs.,\n\nLee, Dr. Benjamin,\n\nLee, Dr. John,\n\nLeishman, John G. A., , ,\n\nLenhart, Sam,\n\nLevergood, Mrs. Jacob,\n\nLevergood, Peter,\n\n\"Lewis the Light,\"\n\nLibby Prison,\n\nLiggett, R. C., ,\n\nLigonier, Pennsylvania,\n\nLilly, Pennsylvania, ,\n\n\"Lime Kiln Club,\"\n\nLincoln, Abraham, , ,\n\nLincoln, Robert,\n\nLinton, John, , , ,\n\nLippincott, James, ,\n\nLippincott, Jesse H.,\n\nLittle, John,\n\nLittle, Nancy,\n\nLittle case, \u201358,\n\nLittle Conemaugh River, , , , , , , , , , \u2013107, , , , , ,\n\nLord Mayor of Dublin,\n\nLoretto, Pennsylvania, , ,\n\nLovett, John,\n\nLowman, Dr. John, , , , , ,\n\nLoyalhanna Creek, ,\n\nMacy, R. H., & Company,\n\nMadison Square Garden,\n\nMail train, \u201325\n\nMain Line Canal, \u201351,\n\nMaine, U.S.S.,\n\nMalzi, Jacob,\n\nMan Who Rode to Conemaugh, The, \u201322\n\nMann, Michael (\"The First Victim\"), \u2013106\n\nMatthews, Dr. William, , , ,\n\nMcAchren, Maxwell, \u201364,\n\nMcConnellsburg, Pennsylvania,\n\nMcDonald, Frank,\n\nMcGregor, James, \u201342\n\nMcGuigan, C. J., \u201325\n\nMcKee, John,\n\nMcKinley, William,\n\nMcLaurin, J. J., ,\n\nMcMillan, James,\n\nMcMillan, James (plumber),\n\nMcNally, Mrs. Mary,\n\nMedical News,\n\nMellon, Andrew, \u201359,\n\nMellon, T., & Sons, ,\n\nMemorial Day (in Johnstown), \u201323, \u201327, \u201333, ,\n\nMethodist Church, Johnstown, , , , \u201371\n\nMetropolitan Opera House,\n\nMetz family,\n\nMiller, J. G.,\n\nMiller, Samuel S., \u201326\n\nMillville, Pennsylvania,\n\nMineral Point, Pennsylvania, , , \u201311\n\nMinersville, Pennsylvania,\n\nMitchell, Charlie,\n\nMolly Maguires,\n\nMonongahela River, , ,\n\nMontgomery, Christ, ,\n\nMontgomery, D. M.,\n\nMonument to the Unknown Dead,\n\nMoore, Charles,\n\nMoore, Mickey,\n\nMoorhead, James N.,\n\nMorgues and morgue records, \u201396\n\nMorrell, Daniel J., , , ,\n\nleadership in Johnstown, \u201372\n\nconcern about the dam, \u201377\n\ndeath, \u201378\n\nMorrellville, Pennsylvania, ,\n\nMorris, William E.,\n\nMountain, The (Jackson),\n\nMountain House, Cresson,\n\nMoxham, , , ,\n\nMoxham, Arthur J., , \u2013202, ,\n\nMuddy Run, ,\n\nMurr, Charles, and family,\n\nMussante family, ,\n\nNew Florence, Pennsylvania, , , \u201379, \u201382, , ,\n\nNew Haven, Connecticut,\n\nNew York Central Railroad,\n\nNew York, New York, , , , , , , ,\n\nNew York Daily Graphic, , , ,\n\nNew York Herald, , ,\n\nNew York Stock Exchange,\n\nNew York Sun, , , , , ,\n\nNew York Times, , , , , ,\n\nNew York Tribune,\n\nNew York Post,\n\nNew York Witness,\n\nNew York World, , , , , ,\n\nNewport, Rhode Island,\n\nNiagara Falls,\n\nNight Off, A, , \u201325, ,\n\nNineveh, Pennsylvania, , , , ,\n\nNorth American Review,\n\nOfficial History of the Johnstown Flood (Connelly and Jenks), ,\n\nOgle, Hettie, , ,\n\nOhio River, ,\n\nOil City, Pennsylvania, ,\n\nOklahoma Territory,\n\nOrr, Harry,\n\nOtto Run,\n\nOverholt, Abraham, ,\n\nPacker, Hezekiah,\n\nPaint Creek,\n\nPattison, Governor Robert,\n\nParke, General John G.,\n\nParke, John G., Jr., , \u2013100, \u2013102, , , , , ,\n\nat the club on Memorial Day, \u201322\n\ninvestigates Lake Conemaugh on the morning of the flood, \u201390\n\nrides to South Fork with warning,\n\nPaul, Elmer,\n\n\"Paul Revere of the Flood\" legend, \u201323\n\nPaulson, Jennie, , ,\n\nPearson, Edward,\n\nPeblin, Sam,\n\nPennsylvania, state of, , ,\n\nPennsylvania Board of Health,\n\nPennsylvania Canal, see Main Line Canal Pennsylvania Pike,\n\nPennsylvania Railroad, , , , , , , \u201354, , , , , , \u201317, , , \u2013200, \u201340, \u201354,\n\nconducts its own investigation, \u201326\n\nPeyton, Daniel, \u201323\n\nPhiladelphia, Pennsylvania, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,\n\nPhiladelphia Record,\n\nPhiladelphia Press, , , , , , ,\n\nPhillips, F.,\n\nPhipps, Henry, Jr., , , , ,\n\nPhotographers arrive at Johnstown, \u201318\n\nPickerell, W. H., \u201397, \u201311,\n\nPitcairn, Robert, , , , , , , , , \u201379, , , , , , ,\n\nPittsburgh, Pennsylvania, , , , , , , , , , , , , , \u201353, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,\n\nclub members from, \u201362\n\nreceives first news of the flood,\n\nsends help to Johnstown, \u2013204\n\ncash donations to Johnstown,\n\nclub members interviewed by the press, \u201343\n\nPittsburgh \"Blue Book,\"\n\nPittsburgh Chamber of Commerce,\n\nPittsburgh Chronicle-Telegraph,\n\nPittsburgh Commercial-Gazette, ,\n\nPittsburgh Dispatch, ,\n\nPittsburgh Leader, ,\n\nPittsburgh Post, , ,\n\nPittsburgh Post-Gazette, ,\n\nPittsburgh Press, , , ,\n\nPittsburgh Relief Committee, , , ,\n\nPittsburgh Times, ,\n\nPlotner, H. W.,\n\nPlummer, J. B., , \u201315\n\nPort Royal, Pennsylvania,\n\nPortage Railroad, \u201351, ,\n\nPowell, John Wesley,\n\nPresbyterian Church, Johnstown, , , , , , ,\n\nProspect, Pennsylvania (and Prospect Hill), , , , , , , , , ,\n\nPulitzer, Joseph,\n\nPut Yourself in His Place (Reade), ,\n\nQuicksteps (baseball team),\n\nQuinn, Gertrude, , \u201360, , , ,\n\nexperience in the flood, \u201365\n\nQuinn, James, , \u201361, , , ,\n\nQuinn, Vincent, , ,\n\nRaymond, Flood C.,\n\nRea, Samuel,\n\nReade, Charles, ,\n\nRed Cross, , \u201331\n\nReed, Alfred,\n\nReed, Isaac,\n\nReed, James, , ,\n\nReichard, William, \u201395\n\nReid, Whitelaw,\n\nReilly, Congressman John, \u201349, ,\n\nReynolds, Sylvester,\n\nRhodes, Flood S.,\n\nRichards, Carrie, \u201357\n\nRiis, Jacob,\n\nRitenour, John,\n\nRobinson, Reverend T. H., , \u201321\n\nRockefeller, John D.,\n\nRoebling, John Augustus,\n\nRoosevelt, Theodore,\n\nRorabaugh Creek,\n\nRose, Horace W., \u201382, , , , , ,\n\nexperience in the flood, \u201369\n\nRoss, John, \u201323\n\nRoss, Joseph,\n\nRuff, Benjamin F., , , , , , , , , ,\n\norganizes the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, \u201349\n\ncorrespondence with Daniel J. Morrell concerning South Fork dam, \u201376\n\nRusher, L. L., \u201395\n\nRyan, John,\n\nSt. John's Catholic Church, Johnstown,\n\nSt. Michael, Pennsylvania, ,\n\nSalt Lake City, Utah,\n\nSaltlick Creek,\n\nSandy Run,\n\nSandy Vale Cemetery, , , ,\n\nSang Hollow, , , , , , \u201399,\n\nSchantz, Joseph,\n\nSchick, Cyrus, ,\n\nSchoefler, Eddie,\n\nSchubert, C. T.,\n\nSchultz, John, ,\n\nSchwab, Charles,\n\nSchwartzentruver, U. Ed, ,\n\nScott, James B.,\n\nScottdale, Pennsylvania,\n\nSewickley, Pennsylvania,\n\nShade Creek,\n\nShady Side Academy, Pittsburgh,\n\nShady Side Presbyterian Church, Pittsburgh,\n\nShafer, Howard,\n\nShea, C. B.,\n\nShowers, Bill,\n\nSideling Hill,\n\nSiebert, Dan,\n\nSightseers at Johnstown, \u201333\n\nSipe, Dan,\n\nSkinner, George,\n\nSlabtown (in Allegheny, Pennsylvania), ,\n\nSmith, William Henry,\n\nSomerset, Pennsylvania, , , ,\n\nSousa, John Philip,\n\nSouth Fork, Pennsylvania, , , , , , \u201396, , , , , , ,\n\nflood strikes, \u2013107\n\nSouth Fork Creek, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,\n\nSouth Fork dam, , , , \u201350, \u201364, , , , , \u201364\n\ndescribed, \u201341\n\nconstruction of, \u201353\n\nfirst breaks,\n\nrebuilt, \u201356;\n\nfaults with renovation, \u201377\n\nfirst message from,\n\nsecond message from,\n\nthird message from,\n\nfails,\n\nremains examined by engineering experts, \u201345\n\ncoroner's jury verdicts concerning, \u201346\n\nSouth Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, , , , , , , , , ,\n\non Memorial Day, \u201320\n\ndescribed, \u201344\n\nhistory of organization, \u201350\n\nmembership, \u201362\n\nsubject of publicity, \u201343\n\ndeclared guilty by the press, \u201345, \u201352\n\nlaw suits against, \u201364\n\nSpangler, George,\n\nSteel industry, \u201323, \u201361, \u201370\n\nSteelton, Pennsylvania,\n\nStevenson, Robert Louis,\n\nStineman, Sheriff George, , , ,\n\nStinson, Eliza,\n\nStone bridge, , , , , , \u201373, , , ,\n\nfire breaks out at, \u201350\n\nStone viaduct, \u2013109\n\nStony Creek, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,\n\nStorm of May \u201331, , \u201389\n\nStowe, Judge Edwin H.,\n\nStoystown, Pennsylvania,\n\nStrawbridge & Clothier,\n\nStrayer, Jacob,\n\nSullivan, John L.,\n\nSummerhill, Pennsylvania,\n\nSusquehanna River,\n\nSwank, George T., , , , , , , , , , ,\n\nSwank, Harry,\n\nSwing, Lizzie, ,\n\nTalmage, Reverend T. DeWitt,\n\nTarbell, Farney S.,\n\nTarr, H. C.,\n\nTemple, Leroy,\n\n\"That Valley of Tears,\"\n\nThompson, Lizzie, ,\n\nThomson, Edgar, works, see Edgar Thomson works\n\nThomson, J. Edgar, , ,\n\nTice, William,\n\nTiffany & Company,\n\nToppers Run,\n\nTrout Run,\n\nTuscarora Mountain,\n\nTuxedo Park, New York, ,\n\nUncle Tom's Cabin (Stowe),\n\nUnderground Railroad,\n\nUnger, Colonel Elias J., , , , , , , , \u201314, , , ,\n\ntries to stave off disaster at South Fork dam, \u201393\n\nU.S. Geological Survey,\n\nU.S. Signal Service,\n\nUniversity of Pennsylvania,\n\nUnknown dead, ,\n\nUtica Saturday Globe,\n\nVerona, Pennsylvania,\n\nVictoria, Queen,\n\nW.C.T.U., ,\n\nWagoner, George,\n\nWalkinshaw, J. C., , , \u201319\n\nWallace, Mrs. Lew,\n\nWalters, James,\n\nWalton, Izaak,\n\nWarthen, Charles,\n\nWashington, D.C., , , ,\n\nWashington, George,\n\nWebber, Herbert,\n\nWellington, A. M.,\n\nWells, Calvin, ,\n\nWelsh, Sylvester, , ,\n\nWestern Reservoir, , \u201352\n\nWestern Theological Seminary,\n\nWestinghouse, George,\n\nWestmoreland County, Pennsylvania, ,\n\nWetmore, Claude,\n\nWheeling, West Virginia,\n\nWhiskey Rebellion,\n\nWhitman, Walt, ,\n\nWillard Hotel, Washington, ,\n\nWilliams, Moses,\n\nWilmore,\n\nWilson, J. P., \u201397, , ,\n\nWood, Morrell & Company, ,\n\nWoodvale, Pennsylvania, , , , ,\n\nflood strikes, \u201327\n\nWorld's Fair, Paris, ,\n\nYellow Run, ,\n\nYoung, Emil,\n\nYoungstown, Ohio,\n\nZimmerman, Charles, \u201381,\n\nZimmerman, Jacob,\n\nZimmerman, Theodore,\n\nZozo the Magic Queen,\n\nSimon & Schuster Paperbacks\n\nRockefeller Center\n\n1230 Avenue of the Americas\n\nNew York, NY 10020\n\nwww.SimonandSchuster.com\n\nCopyright \u00a9 1968 by David McCullough\n\nAll rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.\n\nSIMON & SCHUSTER PAPERBACKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.\n\nThe Library of Congress has cataloged the Touchstone edition as follows:\n\nMcCullough, David G.\n\nThe Johnstown flood.\n\n(A Touchstone book)\n\nBibliography: p.\n\n1. Floods\u2014Pennsylvania\u2014Johnstown. 2. Johnstown (Pa.)\u2014History. I. Title.\n\n[F159.J7M16 1987] 974.877 86-26056\n\nISBN-13: 978-0-671-20714-4\n\nISBN-10: 0-671-20714-8\n\nISBN-13: 978-1-4165-6122-4 (eBook)\n","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}
+{"text":"\n\nTable of Contents\n\nTitle Page\n\nCopyright Page\n\nDedication\n\nIntroduction\n\nChapter 1 - The Race for Relevance\n\nChapter 2 - The User Is the Content\n\nChapter 3 - The Adderall Society\n\nChapter 4 - The You Loop\n\nChapter 5 - The Public Is Irrelevant\n\nChapter 6 - Hello, World!\n\nChapter 7 - What You Want, Whether You Want It or Not\n\nChapter 8 - Escape from the City of Ghettos\n\nAcknowledgements\n\nFURTHER READING\n\nNOTES\n\nINDEX\nAdvance Praise for _The Filter Bubble_\n\n\"Internet firms increasingly show us less of the wide world, locating us in the neighborhood of the familiar. The risk, as Eli Pariser shows, is that each of us may unwittingly come to inhabit a ghetto of one.\"\n\n\u2014Clay Shirky, author of _Here Comes Everybody_ and _Cognitive Surplus_\n\n\" 'Personalization' sounds pretty benign, but Eli Pariser skillfully builds a case that its excess on the Internet will unleash an information calamity\u2014unless we heed his warnings. Top-notch journalism and analysis.\"\n\n\u2014Steven Levy, author of _In the Plex: How Google Thinks, Works and Shapes Our Lives_\n\n\"The Internet software that we use is getting smarter, and more tailored to our needs, all the time. The risk, Eli Pariser reveals, is that we increasingly won't see other perspectives. In _The Filter Bubble,_ he shows us how the trend could reinforce partisan and narrow mindsets, and points the way to a greater online diversity of perspective.\"\n\n\u2014Craig Newmark, founder of craigslist\n\n\"Eli Pariser has written a must-read book about one of the central issues in contemporary culture: personalization.\"\n\n\u2014Caterina Fake, cofounder of flickr and Hunch\n\n\"You spend half your life in Internet space, but trust me\u2014you don't understand how it works. Eli Pariser's book is a masterpiece of both investigation and interpretation; he exposes the way we're sent down particular information tunnels, and he explains how we might once again find ourselves in a broad public square of ideas. This couldn't be a more interesting book; it casts an illuminating light on so many of our daily encounters.\"\n\n\u2014Bill McKibben, author of _The End of Nature_ and _Eaarth_ and founder of 350.org\n\n\" _The Filter Bubble_ shows how unintended consequences of well-meaning online designs can impose profound and sudden changes on politics. All agree that the Internet is a potent tool for change, but whether changes are for the better or worse is up to the people who create and use it. If you feel that the Web is your wide open window on the world, you need to read this book to understand what you aren't seeing.\"\n\n\u2014Jaron Lanier, author of _You Are Not a Gadget_\n\n\"For more than a decade, reflective souls have worried about the consequences of perfect personalization. Eli Pariser's is the most powerful and troubling critique yet.\"\n\n\u2014Lawrence Lessig, author of _Code, Free Culture,_ and _Remix_\n\n\"Eli Pariser isn't just the smartest person I know thinking about the relationship of digital technology to participation in the democratic process\u2014he is also the most experienced. _The Filter Bubble_ reveals how the world we encounter is shaped by programs whose very purpose is to narrow what we see and increase the predictability of our responses. Anyone who cares about the future of human agency in a digital landscape should read this book\u2014especially if it is not showing up in your recommended reads on Amazon.\"\n\n\u2014Douglas Rushkoff, author of _Life Inc._ and _Program or Be Programmed_\n\n\"In _The Filter Bubble,_ Eli Pariser reveals the news slogan of the personalized Internet: Only the news that fits you we print.\"\n\n\u2014George Lakoff, author of _Don't Think of an Elephant!_ and _The Political Mind_\n\n\"Eli Pariser is worried. He cares deeply about our common social sphere and sees it in jeopardy. His thorough investigation of Internet trends got me worried, too. He even taught me things \u00e0bout Facebook. It's a must-read.\"\n\n\u2014David Kirkpatrick, author of _The Facebook Effect_\nTHE PENGUIN PRESS\n\nPublished by the Penguin Group Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A. \u2022 Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) \u2022 Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England \u2022 Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) \u2022 Penguin Books Australia Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) \u2022 Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi\u2013110 017, India \u2022 Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) \u2022 Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa\n\nPenguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England\n\nFirst published in 2011 by The Penguin Press, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.\n\nCopyright \u00a9 Eli Pariser, 2011\n\nAll rights reserved\n\neISBN : 978-1-101-51512-9\n\n__\n\nWithout limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.\n\nThe scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.\n\nWhile the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.\n\n<http:\/\/us.penguingroup.com>\nTo my grandfather, Ray Pariser, who taught me that scientific knowledge is best used in the pursuit of a better world. And to my community of family and friends, who fill my bubble with intelligence, humor, and love.\n**INTRODUCTION**\n\nA squirrel dying in front of your house may be more relevant to your interests right now than people dying in Africa.\n\n_\u2014Mark Zuckerberg_ , Facebook founder\n\nWe shape our tools, and thereafter our tools shape us.\n\n_\u2014Marshall McLuhan_ , media theorist\n\n**F** ew people noticed the post that appeared on Google's corporate blog on December 4, 2009. It didn't beg for attention\u2014no sweeping pronouncements, no Silicon Valley hype, just a few paragraphs of text sandwiched between a weekly roundup of top search terms and an update about Google's finance software.\n\nNot everyone missed it. Search engine blogger Danny Sullivan pores over the items on Google's blog looking for clues about where the monolith is headed next, and to him, the post was a big deal. In fact, he wrote later that day, it was \"the biggest change that has ever happened in search engines.\" For Danny, the headline said it all: \"Personalized search for everyone.\"\n\nStarting that morning, Google would use fifty-seven _signals_ \u2014everything from where you were logging in from to what browser you were using to what you had searched for before\u2014to make guesses about who you were and what kinds of sites you'd like. Even if you were logged out, it would customize its results, showing you the pages it predicted you were most likely to click on.\n\nMost of us assume that when we google a term, we all see the same results\u2014the ones that the company's famous Page Rank algorithm suggests are the most authoritative based on other pages' links. But since December 2009, this is no longer true. Now you get the result that Google's algorithm suggests is best for you in particular\u2014and someone else may see something entirely different. In other words, there is no standard Google anymore.\n\nIt's not hard to see this difference in action. In the spring of 2010, while the remains of the Deepwater Horizon oil rig were spewing crude oil into the Gulf of Mexico, I asked two friends to search for the term \"BP.\" They're pretty similar\u2014educated white left-leaning women who live in the Northeast. But the results they saw were quite different. One of my friends saw investment information about BP. The other saw news. For one, the first page of results contained links about the oil spill; for the other, there was nothing about it except for a promotional ad from BP.\n\nEven the number of results returned by Google differed\u2014about 180 million results for one friend and 139 million for the other. If the results were that different for these two progressive East Coast women, imagine how different they would be for my friends and, say, an elderly Republican in Texas (or, for that matter, a businessman in Japan).\n\nWith Google personalized for everyone, the query \"stem cells\" might produce diametrically opposed results for scientists who support stem cell research and activists who oppose it. \"Proof of climate change\" might turn up different results for an environmental activist and an oil company executive. In polls, a huge majority of us assume search engines are unbiased. But that may be just because they're increasingly biased to share our own views. More and more, your computer monitor is a kind of one-way mirror, reflecting your own interests while algorithmic observers watch what you click.\n\nGoogle's announcement marked the turning point of an important but nearly invisible revolution in how we consume information. You could say that on December 4, 2009, the era of personalization began.\n\n**WHEN I WAS** growing up in rural Maine in the 1990s, a new _Wired_ arrived at our farmhouse every month, full of stories about AOL and Apple and how hackers and technologists were changing the world. To my preteen self, it seemed clear that the Internet was going to democratize the world, connecting us with better information and the power to act on it. The California futurists and techno-optimists in those pages spoke with a clear-eyed certainty: an inevitable, irresistible revolution was just around the corner, one that would flatten society, unseat the elites, and usher in a kind of freewheeling global utopia.\n\nDuring college, I taught myself HTML and some rudimentary pieces of the languages PHP and SQL. I dabbled in building Web sites for friends and college projects. And when an e-mail referring people to a Web site I had started went viral after 9\/11, I was suddenly put in touch with half a million people from 192 countries.\n\nTo a twenty-year-old, it was an extraordinary experience\u2014in a matter of days, I had ended up at the center of a small movement. It was also overwhelming. So I joined forces with another small civic-minded startup from Berkeley called MoveOn.org. The cofounders, Wes Boyd and Joan Blades, had built a software company that brought the world the Flying Toasters screen saver. Our lead programmer was a twenty-something libertarian named Patrick Kane; his consulting service, We Also Walk Dogs, was named after a sci-fi story. Carrie Olson, a veteran of the Flying Toaster days, managed operations. We all worked out of our homes.\n\nThe work itself was mostly unglamorous\u2014formatting and sending out e-mails, building Web pages. But it was exciting because we were sure the Internet had the potential to usher in a new era of transparency. The prospect that leaders could directly communicate, for free, with constituents could change everything. And the Internet gave constituents new power to aggregate their efforts and make their voices heard. When we looked at Washington, we saw a system clogged with gatekeepers and bureaucrats; the Internet had the potential to wash all of that away.\n\nWhen I joined MoveOn in 2001, we had about five hundred thousand U.S. members. Today, there are 5 million members\u2014making it one of the largest advocacy groups in America, significantly larger than the NRA. Together, our members have given over $120 million in small donations to support causes we've identified together\u2014health care for everyone, a green economy, and a flourishing democratic process, to name a few.\n\nFor a time, it seemed that the Internet was going to entirely redemocratize society. Bloggers and citizen journalists would single-handedly rebuild the public media. Politicians would be able to run only with a broad base of support from small, everyday donors. Local governments would become more transparent and accountable to their citizens. And yet the era of civic connection I dreamed about hasn't come. Democracy requires citizens to see things from one another's point of view, but instead we're more and more enclosed in our own bubbles. Democracy requires a reliance on shared facts; instead we're being offered parallel but separate universes.\n\nMy sense of unease crystallized when I noticed that my conservative friends had disappeared from my Facebook page. Politically, I lean to the left, but I like to hear what conservatives are thinking, and I've gone out of my way to befriend a few and add them as Facebook connections. I wanted to see what links they'd post, read their comments, and learn a bit from them.\n\nBut their links never turned up in my Top News feed. Facebook was apparently doing the math and noticing that I was still clicking my progressive friends' links more than my conservative friends'\u2014and links to the latest Lady Gaga videos more than either. So no conservative links for me.\n\nI started doing some research, trying to understand how Facebook was deciding what to show me and what to hide. As it turned out, Facebook wasn't alone.\n\n**WITH LITTLE NOTICE** or fanfare, the digital world is fundamentally changing. What was once an anonymous medium where anyone could be anyone\u2014where, in the words of the famous _New Yorker_ cartoon, nobody knows you're a dog\u2014is now a tool for soliciting and analyzing our personal data. According to one _Wall Street Journal_ study, the top fifty Internet sites, from CNN to Yahoo to MSN, install an average of 64 data-laden cookies and personal tracking beacons each. Search for a word like \"depression\" on Dictionary.com, and the site installs up to 223 tracking cookies and beacons on your computer so that other Web sites can target you with antidepressants. Share an article about cooking on ABC News, and you may be chased around the Web by ads for Teflon-coated pots. Open\u2014even for an instant\u2014a page listing signs that your spouse may be cheating and prepare to be haunted with DNA paternity-test ads. The new Internet doesn't just know you're a dog; it knows your breed and wants to sell you a bowl of premium kibble.\n\nThe race to know as much as possible about you has become the central battle of the era for Internet giants like Google, Facebook, Apple, and Microsoft. As Chris Palmer of the Electronic Frontier Foundation explained to me, \"You're getting a free service, and the cost is information about you. And Google and Facebook translate that pretty directly into money.\" While Gmail and Facebook may be helpful, free tools, they are also extremely effective and voracious extraction engines into which we pour the most intimate details of our lives. Your smooth new iPhone knows exactly where you go, whom you call, what you read; with its built-in microphone, gyroscope, and GPS, it can tell whether you're walking or in a car or at a party.\n\nWhile Google has (so far) promised to keep your personal data to itself, other popular Web sites and apps\u2014from the airfare site Kayak.com to the sharing widget AddThis\u2014make no such guarantees. Behind the pages you visit, a massive new market for information about what you do online is growing, driven by low-profile but highly profitable personal data companies like BlueKai and Acxiom. Acxiom alone has accumulated an average of 1,500 pieces of data on each person on its database\u2014which includes 96 percent of Americans\u2014along with data about everything from their credit scores to whether they've bought medication for incontinence. And using lightning-fast protocols, any Web site\u2014not just the Googles and Facebooks of the world\u2014can now participate in the fun. In the view of the \"behavior market\" vendors, every \"click signal\" you create is a commodity, and every move of your mouse can be auctioned off within microseconds to the highest commercial bidder.\n\nAs a business strategy, the Internet giants' formula is simple: The more personally relevant their information offerings are, the more ads they can sell, and the more likely you are to buy the products they're offering. And the formula works. Amazon sells billions of dollars in merchandise by predicting what each customer is interested in and putting it in the front of the virtual store. Up to 60 percent of Netflix's rentals come from the personalized guesses it can make about each customer's movie preferences\u2014and at this point, Netflix can predict how much you'll like a given movie within about half a star. Personalization is a core strategy for the top five sites on the Internet\u2014Yahoo, Google, Facebook, YouTube, and Microsoft Live\u2014as well as countless others.\n\nIn the next three to five years, Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg told one group, the idea of a Web site that isn't customized to a particular user will seem quaint. Yahoo Vice President Tapan Bhat agrees: \"The future of the web is about personalization ... now the web is about 'me.' It's about weaving the web together in a way that is smart and personalized for the user.\" Google CEO Eric Schmidt enthuses that the \"product I've always wanted to build\" is Google code that will \"guess what I'm trying to type.\" Google Instant, which guesses what you're searching for as you type and was rolled out in the fall of 2010, is just the start\u2014Schmidt believes that what customers want is for Google to \"tell them what they should be doing next.\"\n\nIt would be one thing if all this customization was just about targeted advertising. But personalization isn't just shaping what we buy. For a quickly rising percentage of us, personalized news feeds like Facebook are becoming a primary news source\u201436 percent of Americans under thirty get their news through social networking sites. And Facebook's popularity is skyrocketing worldwide, with nearly a million more people joining each day. As founder Mark Zuckerberg likes to brag, Facebook may be the biggest source of news in the world (at least for some definitions of \"news\").\n\nAnd personalization is shaping how information flows far beyond Facebook, as Web sites from Yahoo News to the _New York Times_ \u2013funded startup News.me cater their headlines to our particular interests and desires. It's influencing what videos we watch on YouTube and a dozen smaller competitors, and what blog posts we see. It's affecting whose e-mails we get, which potential mates we run into on OkCupid, and which restaurants are recommended to us on Yelp\u2014which means that personalization could easily have a hand not only in who goes on a date with whom but in where they go and what they talk about. The algorithms that orchestrate our ads are starting to orchestrate our lives.\n\nThe basic code at the heart of the new Internet is pretty simple. The new generation of Internet filters looks at the things you seem to like\u2014the actual things you've done, or the things people like you like\u2014and tries to extrapolate. They are prediction engines, constantly creating and refining a theory of who you are and what you'll do and want next. Together, these engines create a unique universe of information for each of us\u2014what I've come to call a filter bubble\u2014which fundamentally alters the way we encounter ideas and information.\n\nOf course, to some extent we've always consumed media that appealed to our interests and avocations and ignored much of the rest. But the filter bubble introduces three dynamics we've never dealt with before.\n\nFirst, you're alone in it. A cable channel that caters to a narrow interest (say, golf) has other viewers with whom you share a frame of reference. But you're the only person in your bubble. In an age when shared information is the bedrock of shared experience, the filter bubble is a centrifugal force, pulling us apart.\n\nSecond, the filter bubble is invisible. Most viewers of conservative or liberal news sources know that they're going to a station curated to serve a particular political viewpoint. But Google's agenda is opaque. Google doesn't tell you who it thinks you are or why it's showing you the results you're seeing. You don't know if its assumptions about you are right or wrong\u2014and you might not even know it's making assumptions about you in the first place. My friend who got more investment-oriented information about BP still has no idea why that was the case\u2014she's not a stockbroker. Because you haven't chosen the criteria by which sites filter information in and out, it's easy to imagine that the information that comes through a filter bubble is unbiased, objective, true. But it's not. In fact, from within the bubble, it's nearly impossible to see how biased it is.\n\nFinally, you don't choose to enter the bubble. When you turn on Fox News or read _The Nation_ , you're making a decision about what kind of filter to use to make sense of the world. It's an active process, and like putting on a pair of tinted glasses, you can guess how the editors' leaning shapes your perception. You don't make the same kind of choice with personalized filters. They come to you\u2014and because they drive up profits for the Web sites that use them, they'll become harder and harder to avoid.\n\n**OF COURSE, THERE'S** a good reason why personalized filters have such a powerful allure. We are overwhelmed by a torrent of information: 900,000 blog posts, 50 million tweets, more than 60 million Facebook status updates, and 210 billion e-mails are sent off into the electronic ether every day. Eric Schmidt likes to point out that if you recorded all human communication from the dawn of time to 2003, it'd take up about 5 billion gigabytes of storage space. Now we're creating that much data every two _days_.\n\nEven the pros are struggling to keep up. The National Security Agency, which copies a lot of the Internet traffic that flows through AT&T's main hub in San Francisco, is building two new stadium-size complexes in the Southwest to process all that data. The biggest problem they face is a lack of power: There literally isn't enough electricity on the grid to support that much computing. The NSA is asking Congress for funds to build new power plants. By 2014, they anticipate dealing with so much data they've invented new units of measurement just to describe it.\n\nInevitably, this gives rise to what blogger and media analyst Steve Rubel calls the attention crash. As the cost of communicating over large distances and to large groups of people has plummeted, we're increasingly unable to attend to it all. Our focus flickers from text message to Web clip to e-mail. Scanning the ever-widening torrent for the precious bits that are actually important or even just relevant is itself a full-time job.\n\nSo when personalized filters offer a hand, we're inclined to take it. In theory, anyway, they can help us find the information we need to know and see and hear, the stuff that really matters among the cat pictures and Viagra ads and treadmill-dancing music videos. Netflix helps you find the right movie to watch in its vast catalog of 140,000 flicks. The Genius function of iTunes calls new hits by your favorite band to your attention when they'd otherwise be lost.\n\nUltimately, the proponents of personalization offer a vision of a custom-tailored world, every facet of which fits us perfectly. It's a cozy place, populated by our favorite people and things and ideas. If we never want to hear about reality TV (or a more serious issue like gun violence) again, we don't have to\u2014and if we want to hear about every movement of Reese Witherspoon, we can. If we never click on the articles about cooking, or gadgets, or the world outside our country's borders, they simply fade away. We're never bored. We're never annoyed. Our media is a perfect reflection of our interests and desires.\n\nBy definition, it's an appealing prospect\u2014a return to a Ptolemaic universe in which the sun and everything else revolves around us. But it comes at a cost: Making everything more personal, we may lose some of the traits that made the Internet so appealing to begin with.\n\nWhen I began the research that led to the writing of this book, personalization seemed like a subtle, even inconsequential shift _._ But when I considered what it might mean for a whole society to be adjusted in this way, it started to look more important. Though I follow tech developments pretty closely, I realized there was a lot I didn't know: How did personalization work? What was driving it? Where was it headed? And most important, what will it do to us? How will it change our lives?\n\nIn the process of trying to answer these questions, I've talked to sociologists and salespeople, software engineers and law professors. I interviewed one of the founders of OkCupid, an algorithmically driven dating Web site, and one of the chief visionaries of the U.S. information warfare bureau. I learned more than I ever wanted to know about the mechanics of online ad sales and search engines. I argued with cyberskeptics and cybervisionaries (and a few people who were both).\n\nThroughout my investigation, I was struck by the lengths one has to go to in order to fully see what personalization and filter bubbles do. When I interviewed Jonathan McPhie, Google's point man on search personalization, he suggested that it was nearly impossible to guess how the algorithms would shape the experience of any given user. There were simply too many variables and inputs to track. So while Google can look at overall clicks, it's much harder to say how it's working for any one person.\n\nI was also struck by the degree to which personalization is already upon us\u2014not only on Facebook and Google, but on almost every major site on the Web. \"I don't think the genie goes back in the bottle,\" Danny Sullivan told me. Though concerns about personalized media have been raised for a decade\u2014legal scholar Cass Sunstein wrote a smart and provocative book on the topic in 2000\u2014the theory is now rapidly becoming practice: Personalization is already much more a part of our daily experience than many of us realize. We can now begin to see how the filter bubble is actually working, where it's falling short, and what that means for our daily lives and our society.\n\nEvery technology has an interface, Stanford law professor Ryan Calo told me, a place where you end and the technology begins. And when the technology's job is to show you the world, it ends up sitting between you and reality, like a camera lens. That's a powerful position, Calo says. \"There are lots of ways for it to skew your perception of the world.\" And that's precisely what the filter bubble does.\n\n**THE FILTER BUBBLE'S** costs are both personal and cultural. There are direct consequences for those of us who use personalized filters (and soon enough, most of us will, whether we realize it or not). And there are societal consequences, which emerge when masses of people begin to live a filter-bubbled life.\n\nOne of the best ways to understand how filters shape our individual experience is to think in terms of our information diet. As sociologist danah boyd said in a speech at the 2009 Web 2.0 Expo:\n\nOur bodies are programmed to consume fat and sugars because they're rare in nature.... In the same way, we're biologically programmed to be attentive to things that stimulate: content that is gross, violent, or sexual and that gossip which is humiliating, embarrassing, or offensive. If we're not careful, we're going to develop the psychological equivalent of obesity. We'll find ourselves consuming content that is least beneficial for ourselves or society as a whole.\n\nJust as the factory farming system that produces and delivers our food shapes what we eat, the dynamics of our media shape what information we consume. Now we're quickly shifting toward a regimen chock-full of personally relevant information. And while that can be helpful, too much of a good thing can also cause real problems. Left to their own devices, personalization filters serve up a kind of invisible autopropaganda, indoctrinating us with our own ideas, amplifying our desire for things that are familiar and leaving us oblivious to the dangers lurking in the dark territory of the unknown.\n\nIn the filter bubble, there's less room for the chance encounters that bring insight and learning. Creativity is often sparked by the collision of ideas from different disciplines and cultures. Combine an understanding of cooking and physics and you get the nonstick pan and the induction stovetop. But if Amazon thinks I'm interested in cookbooks, it's not very likely to show me books about metallurgy. It's not just serendipity that's at risk. By definition, a world constructed from the familiar is a world in which there's nothing to learn. If personalization is too acute, it could prevent us from coming into contact with the mind-blowing, preconception-shattering experiences and ideas that change how we think about the world and ourselves.\n\nAnd while the premise of personalization is that it provides you with a service, you're not the only person with a vested interest in your data. Researchers at the University of Minnesota recently discovered that women who are ovulating respond better to pitches for clingy clothes and suggested that marketers \"strategically time\" their online solicitations. With enough data, guessing this timing may be easier than you think.\n\nAt best, if a company knows which articles you read or what mood you're in, it can serve up ads related to your interests. But at worst, it can make decisions on that basis that negatively affect your life. After you visit a page about Third World backpacking, an insurance company with access to your Web history might decide to increase your premium, law professor Jonathan Zittrain suggests. Parents who purchased EchoMetrix's Sentry software to track their kids online were outraged when they found that the company was then selling their kids' data to third-party marketing firms.\n\nPersonalization is based on a bargain. In exchange for the service of filtering, you hand large companies an enormous amount of data about your daily life\u2014much of which you might not trust friends with. These companies are getting better at drawing on this data to make decisions every day. But the trust we place in them to handle it with care is not always warranted, and when decisions are made on the basis of this data that affect you negatively, they're usually not revealed.\n\nUltimately, the filter bubble can affect your ability to choose how you want to live. To be the author of your life, professor Yochai Benkler argues, you have to be aware of a diverse array of options and lifestyles. When you enter a filter bubble, you're letting the companies that construct it choose which options you're aware of. You may think you're the captain of your own destiny, but personalization can lead you down a road to a kind of informational determinism in which what you've clicked on in the past determines what you see next\u2014a Web history you're doomed to repeat. You can get stuck in a static, ever narrowing version of yourself\u2014an endless you-loop.\n\nAnd there are broader consequences. In _Bowling Alone_ , his bestselling book on the decline of civic life in America, Robert Putnam looked at the problem of the major decrease in \"social capital\"\u2014the bonds of trust and allegiance that encourage people to do each other favors, work together to solve common problems, and collaborate. Putnam identified two kinds of social capital: There's the in-group-oriented \"bonding\" capital created when you attend a meeting of your college alumni, and then there's \"bridging\" capital, which is created at an event like a town meeting when people from lots of different backgrounds come together to meet each other. Bridging capital is potent: Build more of it, and you're more likely to be able to find that next job or an investor for your small business, because it allows you to tap into lots of different networks for help.\n\nEverybody expected the Internet to be a huge source of bridging capital. Writing at the height of the dot-com bubble, Tom Friedman declared that the Internet would \"make us all next door neighbors.\" In fact, this idea was the core of his thesis in _The Lexus and the Olive Tree_ : \"The Internet is going to be like a huge vise that takes the globalization system ... and keeps tightening and tightening that system around everyone, in ways that will only make the world smaller and smaller and faster and faster with each passing day.\"\n\nFriedman seemed to have in mind a kind of global village in which kids in Africa and executives in New York would build a community together. But that's not what's happening: Our virtual next-door neighbors look more and more like our real-world neighbors, and our real-world neighbors look more and more like us. We're getting a lot of bonding but very little bridging. And this is important because it's bridging that creates our sense of the \"public\"\u2014the space where we address the problems that transcend our niches and narrow self-interests.\n\nWe are predisposed to respond to a pretty narrow set of stimuli\u2014if a piece of news is about sex, power, gossip, violence, celebrity, or humor, we are likely to read it first. This is the content that most easily makes it into the filter bubble. It's easy to push \"Like\" and increase the visibility of a friend's post about finishing a marathon or an instructional article about how to make onion soup. It's harder to push the \"Like\" button on an article titled, \"Darfur sees bloodiest month in two years.\" In a personalized world, important but complex or unpleasant issues\u2014the rising prison population, for example, or homelessness\u2014are less likely to come to our attention at all.\n\nAs a consumer, it's hard to argue with blotting out the irrelevant and unlikable. But what is good for consumers is not necessarily good for citizens. What I seem to like may not be what I actually want, let alone what I need to know to be an informed member of my community or country. \"It's a civic virtue to be exposed to things that appear to be outside your interest,\" technology journalist Clive Thompson told me. \"In a complex world, almost everything affects you\u2014that closes the loop on pecuniary self-interest.\" Cultural critic Lee Siegel puts it a different way: \"Customers are always right, but people aren't.\"\n\n**THE STRUCTURE OF** our media affects the character of our society. The printed word is conducive to democratic argument in a way that laboriously copied scrolls aren't. Television had a profound effect on political life in the twentieth century\u2014from the Kennedy assassination to 9\/11\u2014and it's probably not a coincidence that a nation whose denizens spend thirty-six hours a week watching TV has less time for civic life.\n\nThe era of personalization is here, and it's upending many of our predictions about what the Internet would do. The creators of the Internet envisioned something bigger and more important than a global system for sharing pictures of pets. The manifesto that helped launch the Electronic Frontier Foundation in the early nineties championed a \"civilization of Mind in cyberspace\"\u2014a kind of worldwide metabrain. But personalized filters sever the synapses in that brain. Without knowing it, we may be giving ourselves a kind of global lobotomy instead.\n\nFrom megacities to nanotech, we're creating a global society whose complexity has passed the limits of individual comprehension. The problems we'll face in the next twenty years\u2014energy shortages, terrorism, climate change, and disease\u2014are enormous in scope. They're problems that we can only solve together.\n\nEarly Internet enthusiasts like Web creator Tim Berners-Lee hoped it would be a new platform for tackling those problems. I believe it still can be\u2014and as you read on, I'll explain how. But first we need to pull back the curtain\u2014to understand the forces that are taking the Internet in its current, personalized direction. We need to lay bare the bugs in the code\u2014and the coders\u2014that brought personalization to us.\n\nIf \"code is law,\" as Larry Lessig famously declared, it's important to understand what the new lawmakers are trying to do. We need to understand what the programmers at Google and Facebook believe in. We need to understand the economic and social forces that are driving personalization, some of which are inevitable and some of which are not. And we need to understand what all this means for our politics, our culture, and our future.\n\nWithout sitting down next to a friend, it's hard to tell how the version of Google or Yahoo News that you're seeing differs from anyone else's. But because the filter bubble distorts our perception of what's important, true, and real, it's critically important to render it visible. That is what this book seeks to do.\n**1**\n\n**The Race for Relevance**\n\nIf you're not paying for something, you're not the customer; you're the product being sold.\n\n\u2014 _Andrew Lewis,_ under the alias Blue_beetle, on the Web site MetaFilter\n\n**I** n the spring of 1994, Nicholas Negroponte sat writing and thinking. At the MIT Media Lab, Negroponte's brainchild, young chip designers and virtual-reality artists and robot-wranglers were furiously at work building the toys and tools of the future. But Negroponte was mulling over a simpler problem, one that millions of people pondered every day: what to watch on TV.\n\nBy the mid-1990s, there were hundreds of channels streaming out live programming twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Most of the programming was horrendous and boring: infomercials for new kitchen gadgets, music videos for the latest one-hit-wonder band, cartoons, and celebrity news. For any given viewer, only a tiny percentage of it was likely to be interesting.\n\nAs the number of channels increased, the standard method of surfing through them was getting more and more hopeless. It's one thing to search through five channels. It's another to search through five hundred. And when the number hits five thousand\u2014well, the method's useless.\n\nBut Negroponte wasn't worried. All was not lost: in fact, a solution was just around the corner. \"The key to the future of television,\" he wrote, \"is to stop thinking about television as television,\" and to start thinking about it as a device with embedded intelligence. What consumers needed was a remote control that controls itself, an intelligent automated helper that would learn what each viewer watches and capture the programs relevant to him or her. \"Today's TV set lets you control brightness, volume, and channel,\" Negroponte typed. \"Tomorrow's will allow you to vary sex, violence, and political leaning.\"\n\nAnd why stop there? Negroponte imagined a future swarming with intelligent agents to help with problems like the TV one. Like a personal butler at a door, the agents would let in only your favorite shows and topics. \"Imagine a future,\" Negroponte wrote, \"in which your interface agent can read every newswire and newspaper and catch every TV and radio broadcast on the planet, and then construct a personalized summary. This kind of newspaper is printed in an edition of one.... Call it the Daily Me.\"\n\nThe more he thought about it, the more sense it made. The solution to the information overflow of the digital age was smart, personalized, embedded editors. In fact, these agents didn't have to be limited to television; as he suggested to the editor of the new tech magazine _Wired_ , \"Intelligent agents are the unequivocal future of computing.\"\n\nIn San Francisco, Jaron Lanier responded to this argument with dismay. Lanier was one of the creators of virtual reality; since the eighties, he'd been tinkering with how to bring computers and people together. But the talk of agents struck him as crazy. \"What's got into all of you?\" he wrote in a missive to the \"Wired-style community\" on his Web site. \"The idea of 'intelligent agents' is both wrong and evil.... The agent question looms as a deciding factor in whether [the Net] will be much better than TV, or much worse.\"\n\nLanier was convinced that, because they're not actually people, agents would force actual humans to interact with them in awkward and pixelated ways. \"An agent's model of what you are interested in will be a cartoon model, and you will see a cartoon version of the world through the agent's eyes,\" he wrote.\n\nAnd there was another problem: The perfect agent would presumably screen out most or all advertising. But since online commerce was driven by advertising, it seemed unlikely that these companies would roll out agents who would do such violence to their bottom line. It was more likely, Lanier wrote, that these agents would have double loyalties\u2014bribable agents. \"It's not clear who they're working for.\"\n\nIt was a clear and plangent plea. But though it stirred up some chatter in online newsgroups, it didn't persuade the software giants of this early Internet era. They were convinced by Negroponte's logic: The company that figured out how to sift through the digital haystack for the nuggets of gold would win the future. They could see the attention crash coming, as the information options available to each person rose toward infinity. If you wanted to cash in, you needed to get people to tune in. And in an attention-scarce world, the best way to do that was to provide content that really spoke to each person's idiosyncratic interests, desires, and needs. In the hallways and data centers of Silicon Valley, there was a new watchword: relevance.\n\nEveryone was rushing to roll out an \"intelligent\" product. In Redmond, Microsoft released Bob\u2014a whole operating system based on the agent concept, anchored by a strange cartoonish avatar with an uncanny resemblance to Bill Gates. In Cupertino, almost exactly a decade before the iPhone, Apple introduced the Newton, a \"personal desktop assistant\" whose core selling point was the agent lurking dutifully just under its beige surface.\n\nAs it turned out, the new intelligent products bombed. In chat groups and on e-mail lists, there was practically an industry of snark about Bob. Users couldn't stand it. _PC World_ named it one of the twenty-five worst tech products of all time. And the Apple Newton didn't do much better: Though the company had invested over $100 million in developing the product, it sold poorly in the first six months of its existence. When you interacted with the intelligent agents of the midnineties, the problem quickly became evident: They just weren't that smart.\n\nNow, a decade and change later, intelligent agents are still nowhere to be seen. It looks as though Negroponte's intelligent-agent revolution failed. We don't wake up and brief an e-butler on our plans and desires for the day.\n\nBut that doesn't mean they don't exist. They're just hidden. Personal intelligent agents lie under the surface of every Web site we go to. Every day, they're getting smarter and more powerful, accumulating more information about who we are and what we're interested in. As Lanier predicted, the agents don't work only for us: They also work for software giants like Google, dispatching ads as well as content. Though they may lack Bob's cartoon face, they steer an increasing proportion of our online activity.\n\nIn 1995 the race to provide personal relevance was just beginning. More than perhaps any other factor, it's this quest that has shaped the Internet we know today.\n\n#  **The John Irving Problem**\n\nJeff Bezos, the CEO of Amazon.com, was one of the first people to realize that you could harness the power of relevance to make a few billion dollars. Starting in 1994, his vision was to transport online bookselling \"back to the days of the small bookseller who got to know you very well and would say things like, 'I know you like John Irving, and guess what, here's this new author, I think he's a lot like John Irving,'\" he told a biographer. But how to do that on a mass scale? To Bezos, Amazon needed to be \"a sort of a small Artificial Intelligence company,\" powered by algorithms capable of instantly matching customers and books.\n\nIn 1994, as a young computer scientist working for Wall Street firms, Bezos had been hired by a venture capitalist to come up with business ideas for the burgeoning Web space. He worked methodically, making a list of twenty products the team could theoretically sell online\u2014music, clothing, electronics\u2014and then digging into the dynamics of each industry. Books started at the bottom of his list, but when he drew up his final results, he was surprised to find them at the top.\n\nBooks were ideal for a few reasons. For starters, the book industry was decentralized; the biggest publisher, Random House, controlled only 10 percent of the market. If one publisher wouldn't sell to him, there would be plenty of others who would. And people wouldn't need as much time to get comfortable with buying books online as they might with other products\u2014a majority of book sales already happened outside of traditional bookstores, and unlike clothes, you didn't need to try them on. But the main reason books seemed attractive was simply the fact that there were so many of them\u20143 million active titles in 1994, versus three hundred thousand active CDs. A physical bookstore would never be able to inventory all those books, but an online bookstore could.\n\nWhen he reported this finding to his boss, the investor wasn't interested. Books seemed like a kind of backward industry in an information age. But Bezos couldn't get the idea out of his head. Without a physical limit on the number of books he could stock, he could provide hundreds of thousands more titles than industry giants like Borders or Barnes & Noble, and at the same time, he could create a more intimate and personal experience than the big chains.\n\nAmazon's goal, he decided, would be to enhance the process of discovery: a personalized store that would help readers find books and introduce books to readers. But how?\n\nBezos started thinking about machine learning. It was a tough problem, but a group of engineers and scientists had been attacking it at research institutions like MIT and the University of California at Berkeley since the 1950s. They called their field \"cybernetics\"\u2014a word taken from Plato, who coined it to mean a self-regulating system, like a democracy. For the early cyberneticists, there was nothing more thrilling than building systems that tuned themselves, based on feedback. Over the following decades, they laid the mathematical and theoretical foundations that would guide much of Amazon's growth.\n\nIn 1990, a team of researchers at the Xerox Palo Alto Research Center (PARC) applied cybernetic thinking to a new problem. PARC was known for coming up with ideas that were broadly adopted and commercialized by others\u2014the graphical user interface and the mouse, to mention two. And like many cutting-edge technologists at the time, the PARC researchers were early power users of e-mail\u2014they sent and received hundreds of them. E-mail was great, but the downside was quickly obvious. When it costs nothing to send a message to as many people as you like, you can quickly get buried in a flood of useless information.\n\nTo keep up with the flow, the PARC team started tinkering with a process they called collaborative filtering, which ran in a program called Tapestry. Tapestry tracked how people reacted to the mass e-mails they received\u2014which items they opened, which ones they responded to, and which they deleted\u2014and then used this information to help order the inbox. E-mails that people had engaged with a lot would move to the top of the list; e-mails that were frequently deleted or unopened would go to the bottom. In essence, collaborative filtering was a time saver: Instead of having to sift through the pile of e-mail yourself, you could rely on others to help presift the items you'd received.\n\nAnd of course, you didn't have to use it just for e-mail. Tapestry, its creators wrote, \"is designed to handle any incoming stream of electronic documents. Electronic mail is only one example of such a stream: others are newswire stories and Net-News articles.\"\n\nTapestry had introduced collaborative filtering to the world, but in 1990, the world wasn't very interested. With only a few million users, the Internet was still a small ecosystem, and there just wasn't much information to sort or much bandwidth to download with. So for years collaborative filtering remained the domain of software researchers and bored college students. If you e-mailed ringo@media.mit.edu in 1994 with some albums you liked, the service would send an e-mail back with other music recommendations and the reviews. \"Once an hour,\" according to the Web site, \"the server processes all incoming messages and sends replies as necessary.\" It was an early precursor to Pandora; it was a personalized music service for a prebroadband era.\n\nBut when Amazon launched in 1995, everything changed. From the start, Amazon was a bookstore with personalization built in. By watching which books people bought and using the collaborative filtering methods pioneered at PARC, Amazon could make recommendations on the fly. (\"Oh, you're getting _The Complete Dummy's Guide to Fencing_? How about adding a copy of _Waking Up Blind: Lawsuits over Eye Injury_?\") And by tracking which users bought what over time, Amazon could start to see which users' preferences were similar. (\"Other people who have similar tastes to yours bought this week's new release, _En Garde!_ \") The more people bought books from Amazon, the better the personalization got.\n\nIn 1997, Amazon had sold books to its first million customers. Six months later, it had served 2 million. And in 2001, it reported its first quarterly net profit\u2014one of the first businesses to prove that there was serious money to be made online.\n\nIf Amazon wasn't quite able to create the feeling of a local bookstore, its personalization code nonetheless worked quite well. Amazon executives are tight-lipped about just how much revenue it's brought in, but they often point to the personalization engine as a key part of the company's success.\n\nAt Amazon, the push for more user data is never-ending: When you read books on your Kindle, the data about which phrases you highlight, which pages you turn, and whether you read straight through or skip around are all fed back into Amazon's servers and can be used to indicate what books you might like next. When you log in after a day reading Kindle e-books at the beach, Amazon is able to subtly customize its site to appeal to what you've read: If you've spent a lot of time with the latest James Patterson, but only glanced at that new diet guide, you might see more commercial thrillers and fewer health books.\n\nAmazon users have gotten so used to personalization that the site now uses a reverse trick to make some additional cash. Publishers pay for placement in physical bookstores, but they can't buy the opinions of the clerks. But as Lanier predicted, buying off algorithms is easy: Pay enough to Amazon, and your book can be promoted as if by an \"objective\" recommendation by Amazon's software. For most customers, it's impossible to tell which is which.\n\nAmazon proved that relevance could lead to industry dominance. But it would take two Stanford graduate students to apply the principles of machine learning to the whole world of online information.\n\n#  **Click Signals**\n\nAs Jeff Bezos's new company was getting off the ground, Larry Page and Sergey Brin, the founders of Google, were busy doing their doctoral research at Stanford. They were aware of Amazon's success\u2014in 1997, the dot-com bubble was in full swing, and Amazon, on paper at least, was worth billions. Page and Brin were math whizzes; Page, especially, was obsessed with AI. But they were interested in a different problem. Instead of using algorithms to figure out how to sell products more effectively, what if you could use them to sort through sites on the Web?\n\nPage had come up with a novel approach, and with a geeky predilection for puns, he called it PageRank. Most Web search companies at the time sorted pages using keywords and were very poor at figuring out which page for a given word was the most relevant. In a 1997 paper, Brin and Page dryly pointed out that three of the four major search engines couldn't find themselves. \"We want our notion of 'relevant' to only include the very best documents,\" they wrote, \"since there may be tens of thousands of slightly relevant documents.\"\n\nPage had realized that packed into the linked structure of the Web was a lot more data than most search engines made use of. The fact that a Web page linked to another page could be considered a \"vote\" for that page. At Stanford, Page had seen professors count how many times their papers had been cited as a rough index of how important they were. Like academic papers, he realized, the pages that a lot of other pages cite\u2014say, the front page of Yahoo\u2014could be assumed to be more \"important,\" and the pages that those pages voted for would matter more. The process, Page argued, \"utilized the uniquely democratic structure of the web.\"\n\nIn those early days, Google lived at google.stanford.edu, and Brin and Page were convinced it should be nonprofit and advertising free. \"We expect that advertising funded search engines will be inherently biased towards the advertisers and away from the needs of the consumers,\" they wrote. \"The better the search engine is, the fewer advertisements will be needed for the consumer to find what they want.... We believe the issue of advertising causes enough mixed incentives that it is crucial to have a competitive search engine that is transparent and in the academic realm.\"\n\nBut when they released the beta site into the wild, the traffic chart went vertical. Google worked\u2014out of the box, it was the best search site on the Internet. Soon, the temptation to spin it off as a business was too great for the twenty-something cofounders to bear.\n\nIn the Google mythology, it is PageRank that drove the company to worldwide dominance. I suspect the company likes it that way\u2014it's a simple, clear story that hangs the search giant's success on a single ingenious breakthrough by one of its founders. But from the beginning, PageRank was just a small part of the Google project. What Brin and Page had really figured out was this: The key to relevance, the solution to sorting through the mass of data on the Web was ... more data.\n\nIt wasn't just which pages linked to which that Brin and Page were interested in. The position of a link on the page, the size of the link, the age of the page\u2014all of these factors mattered. Over the years, Google has come to call these clues embedded in the data _signals._\n\nFrom the beginning, Page and Brin realized that some of the most important signals would come from the search engine's users. If someone searches for \"Larry Page,\" say, and clicks on the second link, that's another kind of vote: It suggests that the second link is more relevant to that searcher than the first one. They called this a _click signal._ \"Some of the most interesting research,\" Page and Brin wrote, \"will involve leveraging the vast amount of usage data that is available from modern web systems.... It is very difficult to get this data, mainly because it is considered commercially valuable.\" Soon they'd be sitting on one of the world's largest stores of it.\n\nWhere data was concerned, Google was voracious. Brin and Page were determined to keep everything: every Web page the search engine had ever landed on, every click every user ever made. Soon its servers contained a nearly real-time copy of most of the Web. By sifting through this data, they were certain they'd find more clues, more signals, that could be used to tweak results. The search-quality division at the company acquired a black-ops kind of feel: few visitors and absolute secrecy were the rule.\n\n\"The ultimate search engine,\" Page was fond of saying, \"would understand exactly what you mean and give back exactly what you want.\" Google didn't want to return thousands of pages of links\u2014it wanted to return one, the one you wanted. But the perfect answer for one person isn't perfect for another. When I search for \"panthers,\" what I probably mean are the large wild cats, whereas a football fan searching for the phrase probably means the Carolina team. To provide perfect relevance, you'd need to know what each of us was interested in. You'd need to know that I'm pretty clueless about football; you'd need to know who I was.\n\nThe challenge was getting enough data to figure out what's personally relevant to each user. Understanding what someone means is tricky business\u2014and to do it well, you have to get to know a person's behavior over a sustained period of time.\n\nBut how? In 2004, Google came up with an innovative strategy. It started providing other services, services that required users to log in. Gmail, its hugely popular e-mail service, was one of the first to roll out. The press focused on the ads that ran along Gmail's sidebar, but it's unlikely that those ads were the sole motive for launching the service. By getting people to log in, Google got its hands on an enormous pile of data\u2014the hundreds of millions of e-mails Gmail users send and receive each day. And it could cross-reference each user's e-mail and behavior on the site with the links he or she clicked in the Google search engine. Google Apps\u2014a suite of online word-processing and spreadsheet-creation tools\u2014served double duty: It undercut Microsoft, Google's sworn enemy, and it provided yet another hook for people to stay logged in and continue sending click signals. All this data allowed Google to accelerate the process of building a theory of identity for each user\u2014what topics each user was interested in, what links each person clicked.\n\nBy November 2008, Google had several patents for personalization algorithms\u2014code that could figure out the groups to which an individual belongs and tailor his or her result to suit that group's preference. The categories Google had in mind were pretty narrow: to illustrate its example in the patent, Google used the example of \"all persons interested in collecting ancient shark teeth\" and \"all persons not interested in collecting ancient shark teeth.\" People in the former category who searched for, say, \"Great White incisors\" would get different results from the latter.\n\nToday, Google monitors every signal about us it can get its hands on. The power of this data can't be underestimated: If Google sees that I log on first from New York, then from San Francisco, then from New York again, it knows I'm a bicoastal traveler and can adjust its results accordingly. By looking at what browser I use, it can make some guesses about my age and even perhaps my politics.\n\nHow much time you take between the moment you enter your query and the moment you click on a result sheds light on your personality. And of course, the terms you search for reveal a tremendous amount about your interests.\n\nEven if you're not logged in, Google is personalizing your search. The neighborhood\u2014even the block\u2014that you're logging in from is available to Google, and it says a lot about who you are and what you're interested in. A query for \"Sox\" coming from Wall Street is probably shorthand for the financial legislation \"Sarbanes Oxley,\" while across the Upper Bay in Staten Island it's probably about baseball.\n\n\"People always make the assumption that we're done with search,\" said founder Page in 2009. \"That's very far from the case. We're probably only 5 percent of the way there. We want to create the ultimate search engine that can understand anything.... Some people could call that artificial intelligence.\"\n\nIn 2006, at an event called Google Press Day, CEO Eric Schmidt laid out Google's five-year plan. One day, he said, Google would be able to answer questions such as \"Which college should I go to?\" \"It will be some years before we can at least partially answer those questions. But the eventual outcome is ... that Google can answer a more hypothetical question.\"\n\n#  **Facebook Everywhere**\n\nGoogle's algorithms were unparalleled, but the challenge was to coax users into revealing their tastes and interests. In February 2004, working out of his Harvard dorm room, Mark Zuckerberg came up with an easier approach. Rather than sifting through click signals to figure out what people cared about, the plan behind his creation, Facebook, was to just flat out ask them.\n\nSince he was a college freshman, Zuckerberg had been interested in what he called the \"social graph\"\u2014the set of each person's relationships. Feed a computer that data, and it could start to do some pretty interesting and useful things\u2014telling you what your friends were up to, where they were, and what they were interested in. It also had implications for news: In its earliest incarnation as a Harvard-only site, Facebook automatically annotated people's personal pages with links to the _Crimson_ articles in which they appeared.\n\nFacebook was hardly the first social network: As Zuckerberg was hacking together his creation in the wee hours of the morning, a hairy, music-driven site named MySpace was soaring; before MySpace, Friendster had for a brief moment captured the attention of the technorati. But the Web site Zuckerberg had in mind was different. It wouldn't be a coy dating site, like Friendster. And unlike MySpace, which encouraged people to connect whether they knew each other or not, Facebook was about taking advantage of existing real-world social connections. Compared to its predecessors, Facebook was stripped down: the emphasis was on information, not flashy graphics or a cultural vibe. \"We're a utility,\" Zuckerberg said later. Facebook was less like a nightclub than a phone company, a neutral platform for communication and collaboration.\n\nEven in its first incarnation, the site grew like wildfire. After Facebook expanded to a few select Ivy League campuses, Zuckerberg's inbox was flooded with requests from students on other campuses, begging him to turn on Facebook for them. By May of 2005, the site was up and running at over eight hundred colleges. But it was the development of the News Feed the following September that pushed Facebook into another league.\n\nOn Friendster and MySpace, to find out what your friends were up to, you had to visit their pages. The News Feed algorithm pulled all of these updates out of Facebook's massive database and placed them in one place, up front, right when you logged in. Overnight, Facebook had turned itself from a network of connected Web pages into a personalized newspaper featuring (and created by) your friends. It's hard to imagine a purer source of relevance.\n\nAnd it was a gusher. In 2006, Facebook users posted literally billions of updates\u2014philosophical quotes, tidbits about who they were dating, what was for breakfast. Zuckerberg and his team egged them on: The more data users handed over to the company, the better their experience could be and the more they'd keep coming back. Early on, they'd added the ability to upload photos, and now Facebook had the largest photo collection in the world. They encouraged users to post links from other Web sites, and millions were submitted. By 2007, Zuckerberg bragged, \"We're actually producing more news in a single day for our 19 million users than any other media outlet has in its entire existence.\"\n\nAt first, the News Feed showed nearly everything your friends did on the site. But as the volume of posts and friends increased, the Feed became unreadable and unmanageable. Even if you had only a hundred friends, it was too much to read.\n\nFacebook's solution was EdgeRank, the algorithm that powers the default page on the site, the Top News Feed. EdgeRank ranks every interaction on the site. The math is complicated, but the basic idea is pretty simple, and it rests on three factors. The first is affinity: The friendlier you are with someone\u2014as determined by the amount of time you spend interacting and checking out his or her profile\u2014the more likely it is that Facebook will show you that person's updates. The second is the relative weight of that type of content: Relationship status updates, for example, are weighted very highly; everybody likes to know who's dating whom. (Many outsiders suspect that the weight, too, is personalized: Different people care about different kinds of content.) The third is time: Recently posted items are weighted over older ones.\n\nEdgeRank demonstrates the paradox at the core of the race for relevancy. To provide relevance, personalization algorithms need data. But the more data there is, the more sophisticated the filters must become to organize it. It's a never-ending cycle.\n\nBy 2009, Facebook had hit the 300 million user mark and was growing by 10 million people per month. Zuckerberg, at twenty-five, was a paper billionaire. But the company had bigger ambitions. What the News Feed had done for social information, Zuckerberg wanted to do for all information. Though he never said it, the goal was clear: Leveraging the social graph and the masses of information Facebook's users had provided, Zuckerberg wanted to put Facebook's news algorithm engine at the center of the web.\n\nEven so, it was a surprise when, on April 21, 2010, readers loaded the _Washington Post_ homepage and discovered that their friends were on it. In a prominent box in the upper right corner\u2014the place where any editor will tell you the eye lands first\u2014was a feature titled Network News. Each person who visited saw a different set of links in the box\u2014the _Washington Post_ links their friends had shared on Facebook. The _Post_ was letting Facebook edit its most valuable online asset: its front page. The _New York Times_ soon followed suit.\n\nThe new feature was one piece of a much bigger rollout, which Facebook called \"Facebook Everywhere\" and announced at its annual conference, f8 (\"fate\"). Ever since Steve Jobs sold the Apple by calling it \"insanely great,\" a measure of grandiosity has been part of the Silicon Valley tradition. But when Zuckerberg walked onto the stage on April 21, 2010, his words seemed plausible. \"This is the most transformative thing we've ever done for the web,\" he announced.\n\nThe aim of Facebook Everywhere was simple: make the whole Web \"social\" and bring Facebook-style personalization to millions of sites that currently lack it. Want to know what music your Facebook friends are listening to? Pandora would now tell you. Want to know what restaurants your friends like? Yelp now had the answer. News sites from the _Huffington Post_ to the _Washington Post_ were now personalized.\n\nFacebook made it possible to press the Like button on any item on the Web. In the first twenty-four hours of the new service, there were 1 billion Likes\u2014and all of that data flowed back into Facebook's servers. Bret Taylor, Facebook's platform lead, announced that users were sharing 25 billion items a month. Google, once the undisputed leader in the push for relevance, seemed worried about the rival a few miles down the road.\n\nThe two giants are now in hand-to-hand combat: Facebook poaches key executives from Google; Google's hard at work constructing social software like Facebook. But it's not totally obvious why the two new-media monoliths should be at war. Google, after all, is built around answering questions; Facebook's core mission is to help people connect with their friends.\n\nBut both businesses' bottom lines depend on the same thing: targeted, highly relevant advertising. The contextual advertisements Google places next to search results and on Web pages are its only significant source of profits. And while Facebook's finances are private, insiders have made clear that advertising is at the core of the company's revenue model. Google and Facebook have different starting points and different strategies\u2014one starts with the relationships among pieces of information, while the other starts with the relationships among people\u2014but ultimately, they're competing for the same advertising dollars.\n\nFrom the point of view of the online advertiser, the question is simple. Which company can deliver the most return on a dollar spent? And this is where relevance comes back into the equation. The masses of data Facebook and Google accumulate have two uses. For users, the data provides a key to providing personally relevant news and results. For advertisers, the data is the key to finding likely buyers. The company that has the most data and can put it to the best use gets the advertising dollars.\n\nWhich brings us to lock-in. Lock-in is the point at which users are so invested in their technology that even if competitors might offer better services, it's not worth making the switch. If you're a Facebook member, think about what it'd take to get you to switch to another social networking site\u2014even if the site had vastly greater features. It'd probably take a lot\u2014re-creating your whole profile, uploading all of those pictures, and laboriously entering your friends' names would be extremely tedious. You're pretty locked in. Likewise, Gmail, Gchat, Google Voice, Google Docs, and a host of other products are part of an orchestrated campaign for Google lock-in. The fight between Google and Facebook hinges on which can achieve lock-in for the most users.\n\nThe dynamics of lock-in are described by Metcalfe's law, a principle coined by Bob Metcalfe, the inventor of the Ethernet protocol that wires together computers. The law says that the usefulness of a network increases at an accelerating rate as you add each new person to it. It's not much use to be the only person you know with a fax machine, but if everyone you work with uses one, it's a huge disadvantage not to be in the loop. Lock-in is the dark side of Metcalfe's law: Facebook is useful in large part because everyone's on it. It'd take a lot of mismanagement to overcome that basic fact.\n\nThe more locked in users are, the easier it is to convince them to log in\u2014and when you're constantly logged in, these companies can keep tracking data on you even when you're not visiting their Web sites. If you're logged into Gmail and you visit a Web site that uses Google's Doubleclick ad service, that fact can be attached to your Google account. And with tracking cookies these services place on your computer, Facebook or Google can provide ads based on your personal information on third-party sites. The whole Web can become a platform for Google or Facebook.\n\nBut Google and Facebook are hardly the only options. The daily turf warfare between Google and Facebook occupies scores of business reporters and gigabytes of blog chatter, but there's a stealthy third front opening up in this war. And though most of the companies involved operate under the radar, they may ultimately represent the future of personalization.\n\n#  **The Data Market**\n\nThe manhunt for accomplices of the 9\/11 killers was one of the most extensive in history. In the immediate aftermath of the attacks, the scope of the plot was unclear. Were there more hijackers who hadn't yet been found? How extensive was the network that had pulled off the attacks? For three days, the CIA, FBI, and a host of other acronymed agencies worked around the clock to identify who else was involved. The country's planes were grounded, its airports closed.\n\nWhen help arrived, it came from an unlikely place. On September 14, the bureau had released the names of the hijackers, and it was now asking\u2014pleading\u2014for anyone with information about the perpetrators to come forward. Later that day, the FBI received a call from Mack McLarty, a former White House official who sat on the board of a little-known but hugely profitable company called Acxiom.\n\nAs soon as the hijackers' names had been publicly released, Acxiom had searched its massive data banks, which take up five acres in tiny Conway, Arkansas. And it had found some very interesting data on the perpetrators of the attacks. In fact, it turned out, Acxiom knew more about eleven of the nineteen hijackers than the entire U.S. government did\u2014including their past and current addresses and the names of their housemates.\n\nWe may never know what was in the files Acxiom gave the government (though one of the executives told a reporter that Acxiom's information had led to deportations and indictments). But here's what Acxiom knows about 96 percent of American households and half a billion people worldwide: the names of their family members, their current and past addresses, how often they pay their credit card bills whether they own a dog or a cat (and what breed it is), whether they are righthanded or left-handed, what kinds of medication they use (based on pharmacy records) ... the list of data points is about 1,500 items long.\n\nAcxiom keeps a low profile\u2014it may not be an accident that its name is nearly unpronounceable. But it serves most of the largest companies in America\u2014nine of the ten major credit card companies and consumer brands from Microsoft to Blockbuster. \"Think of [Acxiom] as an automated factory,\" one engineer told a reporter, \"where the product we make is data.\"\n\nTo get a sense of Acxiom's vision for the future, consider a travel search site like Travelocity or Kayak. Ever wondered how they make money? Kayak makes money in two ways. One is pretty simple, a holdover from the era of travel agents: When you buy a flight using a link from Kayak, airlines pay the site a small fee for the referral.\n\nThe other is much less obvious. When you search for the flight, Kayak places a cookie on your computer\u2014a small file that's basically like putting a sticky note on your forehead saying \"Tell me about cheap bicoastal fares.\" Kayak can then sell that piece of data to a company like Acxiom or its rival BlueKai, which auctions it off to the company with the highest bid\u2014in this case, probably a major airline like United. Once it knows what kind of trip you're interested in, United can show you ads for relevant flights\u2014not just on Kayak's site, but on literally almost any Web site you visit across the Internet. This whole process\u2014from the collection of your data to the sale to United\u2014takes under a second.\n\nThe champions of this practice call it \"behavioral retargeting.\" Retailers noticed that 98 percent of visitors to online shopping sites leave without buying anything. Retargeting means businesses no longer have to take \"no\" for an answer.\n\nSay you check out a pair of running sneakers online but leave the site without springing for them. If the shoe site you were looking at uses retargeting, their ads\u2014maybe displaying a picture of the exact sneaker you were just considering\u2014will follow you around the Internet, showing up next to the scores from last night's game or posts on your favorite blog. And if you finally break down and buy the sneakers? Well, the shoe site can sell that piece of information to BlueKai to auction it off to, say, an athletic apparel site. Pretty soon you'll be seeing ads all over the Internet for sweat-wicking socks.\n\nThis kind of persistent, personalized advertising isn't just confined to your computer. Sites like Loopt and Foursquare, which broadcast a user's location from her mobile phone, provide advertisers with opportunities to reach consumers with targeted ads even when they're out and about. Loopt is working on an ad system whereby stores can offer special discounts and promotions to repeat customers on their phones\u2014right as they walk through the door. And if you sit down on a Southwest Airlines flight, the ads on your seat-back TV screen may be different from your neighbors'. Southwest, after all, knows your name and who you are. And by cross-indexing that personal information with a database like Acxiom's, it can know a whole lot more about you. Why not show you your own ads\u2014or, for that matter, a targeted show that makes you more likely to watch them?\n\nTargusInfo, another of the new firms that processes this sort of information, brags that it \"delivers more than 62 billion real-time attributes a year.\" That's 62 billion points of data about who customers are, what they're doing, and what they want. Another ominously named enterprise, the Rubicon Project, claims that its database includes more than half a billion Internet users.\n\nFor now, retargeting is being used by advertisers, but there's no reason to expect that publishers and content providers won't get in on it. After all, if the _Los Angeles Times_ knows that you're a fan of Perez Hilton, it can front-page its interview with him in your edition, which means you'll be more likely to stay on the site and click around.\n\nWhat all of this means is that your behavior is now a commodity, a tiny piece of a market that provides a platform for the personalization of the whole Internet. We're used to thinking of the Web as a series of one-to-one relationships: You manage your relationship with Yahoo separately from your relationship with your favorite blog. But behind the scenes, the Web is becoming increasingly integrated. Businesses are realizing that it's profitable to share data. Thanks to Acxiom and the data market, sites can put the most relevant products up front and whisper to each other behind your back.\n\nThe push for relevance gave rise to today's Internet giants, and it is motivating businesses to accumulate ever more data about us and to invisibly tailor our online experiences on that basis. It's changing the fabric of the Web. But as we'll see, the consequences of personalization for how we consume news, make political decisions, and even how we think will be even more dramatic.\n**2**\n\n**The User Is the Content**\n\nEverything which bars freedom and fullness of communication sets up barriers that divide human beings into sets and cliques, into antagonistic sects and factions, and thereby undermines the democratic way of life.\n\n\u2014 _John Dewey_\n\nThe technology will be so good, it will be very hard for people to watch or consume something that has not in some sense been tailored for them.\n\n\u2014 _Eric Schmidt,_ Google CEO\n\n**M** icrosoft Building 1 in Mountain View, California, is a long, low, gunmetal gray hangar, and if it weren't for the cars buzzing by behind it on Highway 101, you'd almost be able to hear the whine of ultrasonic security. On this Saturday in 2010, the vast expanses of parking lot were empty except for a few dozen BMWs and Volvos. A cluster of scrubby pine trees bent in the gusty wind.\n\nInside, the concrete-floored hallways were crawling with CEOs in jeans and blazers trading business cards over coffee and swapping stories about deals. Most hadn't come far; the startups they represented were based nearby. Hovering over the cheese spread was a group of executives from data firms like Acxiom and Experian who had flown in from Arkansas and New York the night before. With fewer than a hundred people in attendance, the Social Graph Symposium nonetheless included the leaders and luminaries of the targeted-marketing field.\n\nA bell rang, the group filed into breakout rooms, and one of the conversations quickly turned to the battle to \"monetize content.\" The picture, the group agreed, didn't look good for newspapers.\n\nThe contours of the situation were clear to anyone paying attention: The Internet had delivered a number of mortal blows to the newspaper business model, any one of which might be fatal. Craigslist had made classified advertisements free, and $18 billion in revenue went _poof._ Nor was online advertising picking up the slack. An advertising pioneer once famously said, \"Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted\u2014I just don't know which half.\" But the Internet turned that logic on its head\u2014with click-through rates and other metrics, businesses suddenly knew exactly which half of their money went to waste. And when ads didn't work as well as the industry had promised, advertising budgets were cut accordingly. Meanwhile, bloggers and freelance journalists started to package and produce news content for free, which pressured the papers to do the same online.\n\nBut what most interested the crowd in the room was the fact that the entire premise on which the news business had been built was changing, and the publishers weren't even paying attention.\n\nThe _New York Times_ had traditionally been able to command high ad rates because advertisers knew it attracted a premium audience\u2014the wealthy opinion-making elite of New York and beyond. In fact, the publisher had a near monopoly on reaching that group\u2014there were only a few other outlets that provided a direct feed into their homes (and out of their pocketbooks).\n\nNow all that was changing. One executive in the marketing session was especially blunt. \"The publishers are losing,\" he said, \"and they will lose, because they just don't get it.\"\n\nInstead of taking out expensive advertisements in the _New York Times,_ it was now possible to track that elite cosmopolitan readership using data acquired from Acxiom or BlueKai. This was, to say the least, a game changer in the business of news. Advertisers no longer needed to pay the _New York Times_ to reach _Times_ readers: they could target them wherever they went online. The era where you had to develop premium content to get premium audiences, in other words, was coming to a close.\n\nThe numbers said it all. In 2003, publishers of articles and videos online received most of each dollar advertisers spent on their sites. Now, in 2010, they only received $.20. The difference was moving to the people who had the data\u2014many of whom were in attendance at Mountain View. A PowerPoint presentation circulating in the industry called out the significance of this change succinctly, describing how \"premium publishers [were] losing a key advantage\" because advertisers can now target premium audiences in \"other, cheaper places.\" The take-home message was clear: Users, not sites, were now the focus.\n\nUnless newspapers could think of themselves as behavioral data companies with a mission of churning out information about their readers' preferences\u2014unless, in other words, they could adapt themselves to the personalized, filter-bubble world\u2014they were sunk.\n\n**NEWS SHAPES OUR** sense of the world, of what's important, of the scale and color and character of our problems. More important, it provides the foundation of shared experience and shared knowledge on which democracy is built. Unless we understand the big problems our societies face, we can't act together to fix them. Walter Lippmann, the father of modern journalism, put it more eloquently: \"All that the sharpest critics of democracy have alleged is true, if there is no steady supply of trustworthy and relevant news. Incompetence and aimlessness, corruption and disloyalty, panic and ultimate disaster must come to any people which is denied an assured access to the facts.\"\n\nIf news matters, newspapers matter, because their journalists write most of it. Although the majority of Americans get their news from local and national TV broadcasts, most of the actual reporting and story generation happens in newspaper newsrooms. They're the core creators of the news economy. Even in 2010, blogs remain incredibly reliant on them: according to Pew Research Center's Project for Excellence in Journalism, 99 percent of the stories linked to in blog posts come from newspapers and broadcast networks, and the _New York Times_ and _Washington Post_ alone account for nearly 50 percent of all blog links. While rising in importance and influence, net-native media still mostly lack the capacity to shape public life that these papers and a few other outlets like the BBC and CNN have.\n\nBut the shift is coming. The forces unleashed by the Internet are driving a radical transformation in who produces news and how they do it. Whereas once you had to buy the whole paper to get the sports section, now you can go to a sports-only Web site with enough new content each day to fill ten papers. Whereas once only those who could buy ink by the barrel could reach an audience of millions, now anyone with a laptop and a fresh idea can.\n\nIf we look carefully, we can begin to project the outline of the new constellation that's emerging. This much we know:\n\n\u2022 The cost of producing and distributing media of all kinds\u2014words, images, video, and audio streams\u2014will continue to fall closer and closer to zero.\n\n\u2022 As a result, we'll be deluged with choices of what to pay attention to\u2014and we'll continue to suffer from \"attention crash.\" This makes curators all the more important. We'll rely ever more heavily on human and software curators to determine what news we should consume.\n\n\u2022 Professional human editors are expensive, and code is cheap. Increasingly, we'll rely on a mix of nonprofessional editors (our friends and colleagues) and software code to figure out what to watch, read, and see. This code will draw heavily on the power of personalization and displace professional human editors.\n\nMany Internet watchers (myself included) cheered the development of \"people-powered news\"\u2014a more democratic, participatory form of cultural storytelling. But the future may be more machine-powered than people-powered. And many of the breakthrough champions of the people-powered viewpoint tell us more about our current, transitional reality than the news of the future. The story of \"Rathergate\" is a classic example of the problem.\n\nWhen CBS News announced nine weeks before the 2004 election that it had papers proving that President Bush had manipulated his military record, the assertion seemed as though it might be the turning point for the Kerry campaign, which had been running behind in the polls. The viewership for _60 Minutes Wednesday_ was high. \"Tonight, we have new documents and new information on the President's military service and the first-ever interview with the man who says he pulled the strings to get young George W. Bush into the Texas Air National Guard,\" Dan Rather said somberly as he laid out the facts.\n\nThat night, as the _New York Times_ was preparing its headline on the story, a lawyer and conservative activist named Harry MacDougald posted to a right-wing forum called Freerepublic .com. After looking closely at the typeface of the documents, MacDougald was convinced that there was something fishy going on. He didn't beat around the bush: \"I am saying these documents are forgeries, run through a copier for 15 generations to make them look old,\" he wrote. \"This should be pursued aggressively.\"\n\nMacDougald's post quickly attracted attention, and the discussion about the forgeries jumped to two other blog communities, _Powerline_ and _Little Green Footballs_ , where readers quickly discovered other anachronistic quirks. By the next afternoon, the influential _Drudge Report_ had the campaign reporters talking about the validity of the documents. And the following day, September 10, the Associated Press, _New York Times, Washington Post,_ and other outlets all carried the story: CBS's scoop might not be true. By September 20, the president of CBS News had issued a statement on the documents: \"Based on what we now know, CBS News cannot prove that the documents are authentic.... We should not have used them.\" While the full truth of Bush's military record never came to light, Rather, one of the most prominent journalists in the world, retired in disgrace the next year.\n\nRathergate is now an enduring part of the mythology about the way blogs and the Internet have changed the game of journalism. No matter where you stand on the politics involved, it's an inspiring tale: MacDougald, an activist on a home computer, discovered the truth, took down one of the biggest figures in journalism, and changed the course of an election.\n\nBut this version of the story omits a critical point.\n\nIn the twelve days between CBS's airing of the story and its public acknowledgment that the documents were probably fakes, the rest of the broadcast news media turned out reams of reportage. The Associated Press and _USA Today_ hired professional document reviewers who scrutinized every dot and character. Cable news networks issued breathless updates. A striking 65 percent of Americans\u2014and nearly 100 percent of the political and reportorial classes\u2014were paying attention to the story.\n\nIt is only because these news sources reached many of the same people who watch CBS News that CBS could not afford to ignore the story. MacDougald and his allies may have lit the match, but it took print and broadcast media to fan the flames into a career-burning conflagration.\n\nRathergate, in other words, is a good story about how online and broadcast media can interact. But it tells us little or nothing about how news will move once the broadcast era is fully over\u2014and we're moving toward that moment at a breakneck pace. The question we have to ask is, What does news look like in the postbroadcast world? How does it move? And what impact does it have?\n\nIf the power to shape news rests in the hands of bits of code, not professional human editors, is the code up to the task? If the news environment becomes so fragmented that MacDougald's discovery can't reach a broad audience, could Rathergate even happen at all?\n\nBefore we can answer that question, it's worth quickly reviewing where our current news system came from.\n\n#  **The Rise and Fall of the General Audience**\n\nLippmann, in 1920, wrote that \"the crisis in western democracy is a crisis in journalism.\" The two are inextricably linked, and to understand the future of this relationship, we have to understand its past.\n\nIt's hard to imagine that there was a time when \"public opinion\" didn't exist. But as late as the mid-1700s, politics was palace politics. Newspapers confined themselves to commercial and foreign news\u2014a report from a frigate in Brussels and a letter from a nobleman in Vienna set in type and sold to the commercial classes of London. Only when the modern, complex, centralized state emerged\u2014with private individuals rich enough to lend money to the king\u2014did forward-looking officials realize that the views of the people outside the walls had begun to matter.\n\nThe rise of the public realm\u2014and news as its medium\u2014was partly driven by the emergence of new, complex societal problems, from the transport of water to the challenges of empire, that transcended the narrow bounds of individual experience. But technological changes also made an impact. After all, how news is conveyed profoundly shapes what is conveyed.\n\nWhile the spoken word is always directed to a specific audience, the written word\u2014and especially the printing press\u2014changed all that. In a real sense, it made the general audience possible. This ability to address a broad, anonymous group fueled the Enlightenment era, and thanks to the printing press, scientists and scholars could spread complex ideas with perfect precision to an audience spread over large distances. And because everyone was literally on the same page, transnational conversations began that would have been impossibly laborious in the earlier scribe-driven epoch.\n\nIn the American colonies, the printing industry developed at a fierce clip\u2014at the time of the revolution, there was no other place in the world with such a density and variety of newspapers. And while they catered exclusively to the interests of white male landowners, the newspapers nonetheless provided a common language and common arguments for dissent. Thomas Paine's rallying cry, _Common Sense_ , helped give the diverse colonies a sense of mutual interest and solidarity.\n\nEarly newspapers existed to provide business owners with information about market prices and conditions, and newspapers depended on subscription and advertising revenues to survive. It wasn't until the 1830s and the rise of the \"penny press\"\u2014cheap newspapers sold as one-offs on the street\u2014that everyday citizens in the United States became a primary constituency for news. It was at this point that newspapers came to carry what we think of as news today.\n\nThe small, aristocratic public was transforming into a general public. The middle class was growing, and because middle-class people had both a day-to-day stake in the life of the nation and the time and money to spend on entertainment, they were hungry for news and spectacle. Circulation skyrocketed. And as education levels went up, more people came to understand the interconnected nature of modern society. If what happened in Russia could affect prices in New York, it was worth following the news from Russia.\n\nBut though democracy and the newspaper were becoming ever more intertwined, the relationship wasn't an easy one. After World War I, tensions about what role the newspaper should play boiled over, becoming a matter of great debate among two of the leading intellectual lights of the time, Walter Lippmann and John Dewey.\n\nLippmann had watched with disgust as newspapers had effectively joined the propaganda effort for World War I. In _Liberty and the News,_ a book of essays published in 1921, he angrily assailed the industry. He quoted an editor who had written that in the service of the war, \"governments conscripted public opinion.... They goose-stepped it. They taught it to stand at attention and salute.\"\n\nLippmann wrote that so long as newspapers existed and they determined \"by entirely private and unexamined standards, no matter how lofty, what [the average citizen] shall know, and hence what he shall believe, no one will be able to say that the substance of democratic government is secure.\"\n\nOver the next decade, Lippmann advanced his line of thought. Public opinion, Lippmann concluded, was too malleable\u2014people were easily manipulated and led by false information. In 1925, he wrote _The Phantom Public,_ an attempt to dismantle the illusion of a rational, informed populace once and for all. Lippmann argued against the prevailing democratic mythology, in which informed citizens capably made decisions about the major issues of the day. The \"omnicompetent citizens\" that such a system required were nowhere to be found. At best, ordinary citizens could be trusted to vote out the party that was in power if it was doing too poorly; the real work of governance, Lippmann argued, should be entrusted to insider experts who had education and expertise to see what was really going on.\n\nJohn Dewey, one of the great philosophers of democracy, couldn't pass up the opportunity to engage. In The Public and Its Problems, a series of lectures Dewey gave in response to Lippmann's book, he admitted that many of Lippmann's critiques were not wrong. The media were able to easily manipulate what people thought. Citizens were hardly informed enough to properly govern.\n\nHowever, Dewey argued, to accept Lippmann's proposal was to give up on the promise of democracy\u2014an ideal that had not yet fully been realized but might still be. \"To learn to be human,\" Dewey argued, \"is to develop through the give and take of communication an effective sense of being an individually distinctive member of a community.\" The institutions of the 1920s, Dewey said, were closed off\u2014they didn't invite democratic participation. But journalists and newspapers could play a critical role in this process by calling out the citizen in people\u2014reminding them of their stake in the nation's business.\n\nWhile they disagreed on the contours of the solution, Dewey and Lippmann did fundamentally agree that news making was a fundamentally political and ethical enterprise\u2014and that publishers had to handle their immense responsibility with great care. And because the newspapers of the time were making money hand over fist, they could afford to listen. At Lippmann's urging, the more credible papers built a wall between the business portion of their papers and the reporting side. They began to champion objectivity and decry tilted reporting. It's this ethical model\u2014one in which newspapers have a responsibility to both neutrally inform and convene the public\u2014which guided the aspirations of journalistic endeavors for the last half century.\n\nOf course, news agencies have frequently fallen short of these lofty goals\u2014and it's not always clear how hard they even try. Spectacle and profit seeking frequently win out over good journalistic practice; media empires make reporting decisions to placate advertisers; and not every outlet that proclaims itself \"fair and balanced\" actually is.\n\nThanks to critics like Lippmann, the present system has a sense of ethics and public responsibility baked in, however imperfectly. But though it's playing some of the same roles, the filter bubble does not.\n\n#  **A New Middleman**\n\n_New York Times_ critic Jon Pareles calls the 2000s the disintermediation decade. _Disintermediation_ \u2014the elimination of middlemen\u2014is \"the thing that the Internet does to every business, art, and profession that aggregates and repackages,\" wrote protoblogger Dave Winer in 2005. \"The great virtue of the Internet is that it erodes power,\" says the Internet pioneer Esther Dyson. \"It sucks power out of the center, and takes it to the periphery, it erodes the power of institutions over people while giving to individuals the power to run their own lives.\"\n\nThe disintermediation story was repeated hundreds of times, on blogs, in academic papers, and on talk shows. In one familiar version, it goes like this: Once upon a time, newspaper editors woke up in the morning, went to work, and decided what we should think. They could do this because printing presses were expensive, but it became their explicit ethos: As newspapermen, it was their paternalistic duty to feed the citizenry a healthy diet of coverage.\n\nMany of them meant well. But living in New York and Washington, D.C., they were enthralled by the trappings of power. They counted success by the number of insider cocktail parties they were invited to, and the coverage followed suit. The editors and journalists became embedded in the culture they were supposed to cover. And as a result, powerful people got off the hook, and the interests of the media tilted against the interests of everyday folk, who were at their mercy.\n\nThen the Internet came along and disintermediated the news. All of a sudden, you didn't have to rely on the _Washington Post_ 's interpretation of the White House press briefing\u2014you could look up the transcript yourself. The middleman dropped out\u2014not just in news, but in music (no more need for _Rolling Stone_ \u2014you could now hear directly from your favorite band) and commerce (you could follow the Twitter feed of the shop down the street) and nearly everything else. The future, the story says, is one in which we go direct.\n\nIt's a story about efficiency and democracy. Eliminating the evil middleman sitting between us and what we want sounds good. In a way, disintermediation is taking on the idea of media itself. The word _media,_ after all, comes from the Latin for \"middle layer.\" It sits between us and the world; the core bargain is that it will connect us to what's happening but at the price of direct experience. Disintermediation suggests we can have both.\n\nThere's some truth to the description, of course. But while enthrallment to the gatekeepers is a real problem, disintermediation is as much mythology as fact. Its effect is to make the new mediators\u2014the new gatekeepers\u2014invisible. \"It's about the many wresting power from the few,\" _Time_ magazine announced when it made \"you\" the person of the year. But as law professor and _Master Switch_ author Tim Wu says, \"The rise of networking did not eliminate intermediaries, but rather changed who they are.\" And while power moved toward consumers, in the sense that we have exponentially more choice about what media we consume, the power still isn't held by consumers.\n\nMost people who are renting and leasing apartments don't \"go direct\"\u2014they use the intermediary of craigslist. Readers use Amazon.com. Searchers use Google. Friends use Facebook. And these platforms hold an immense amount of power\u2014as much, in many ways, as the newspaper editors and record labels and other intermediaries that preceded them. But while we've raked the editors of the _New York Times_ and the producers of CNN over the coals for the stories they've missed and the interests they've served, we've given very little scrutiny to the interests behind the new curators.\n\nIn July 2010, Google News rolled out a personalized version of its popular service. Sensitive to concerns about shared experience, Google made sure to highlight the \"top stories\" that are of broad, general interest. But look below that top band, and you will see only stories that are locally and personally relevant to you, based on the interests that you've demonstrated through Google and what articles you've clicked on in the past. Google's CEO doesn't beat around the bush when he describes where this is all headed: \"Most people will have personalized news-reading experiences on mobile-type devices that will largely replace their traditional reading of newspapers,\" he tells an interviewer. \"And that that kind of news consumption will be very personal, very targeted. It will remember what you know. It will suggest things that you might want to know. It will have advertising. Right? And it will be as convenient and fun as reading a traditional newspaper or magazine.\"\n\nSince Krishna Bharat created the first prototype of Google News to monitor worldwide coverage after 9\/11, Google News has become one of the top global portals for news. Tens of millions of visitors pull up the site each month\u2014more than visit the BBC. Speaking at the IJ-7 Innovation Journalism conference at Stanford\u2014to a room full of fairly anxious newspaper professionals\u2014Bharat laid out his vision: \"Journalists,\" Bharat explained, \"should worry about creating the content and other people in technology should worry about bringing the content to the right group\u2014given the article, what's the best set of eyeballs for it, and that can be solved by personalization.\"\n\nIn many ways, Google News is still a hybrid model, driven in part by the judgment of a professional editorial class. When a Finnish editor asked Bharat what determines the priority of stories, he emphasized that newspaper editors themselves still have disproportionate control: \"We pay attention,\" he said, \"to the editorial decisions that different editors have made: what your paper chose to cover, when you published it, and where you placed it on your front page.\" _New York Times_ editor Bill Keller, in other words, still has a disproportionate ability to affect a story's prominence on Google News.\n\nIt's a tricky balance: On the one hand, Bharat tells an interviewer, Google should promote what the reader enjoys reading. But at the same time, overpersonalization that, for example, excludes important news from the picture would be a disaster. Bharat doesn't seem to have fully resolved the dilemma, even for himself. \"I think people care about what other people care about, what other people are interested in\u2014most important, their social circle,\" he says.\n\nBharat's vision is to move Google News off Google's site and onto the sites of other content producers. \"Once we get personalization working for news,\" Bharat tells the conference, \"we can take that technology and make it available to publishers, so they can [transform] their website appropriately\" to suit the interests of each visitor.\n\nKrishna Bharat is in the hot seat for a good reason. While he's respectful to the front page editors who pepper him with questions, and his algorithm depends on their expertise, Google News, if it's successful, may ultimately put a lot of front-page editors out of work. Why visit your local paper's Web site, after all, if Google's personalized site has already pulled the best pieces?\n\nThe Internet's impact on news was explosive in more ways than one. It expanded the news space by force, sweeping older enterprises out of its path. It dismantled the trust that news organizations had built. In its wake lies a more fragmented and shattered public space than the one that came before.\n\nIt's no secret that trust in journalists and news providers has plummeted in recent years. But the shape of the curve is mysterious : According to a Pew poll, Americans lost more faith in news agencies between 2007 and 2010 than they did in the prior twelve years. Even the debacle over Iraq's WMDs didn't make much of a dent in the numbers\u2014but whatever happened in 2007 did.\n\nWhile we still don't have conclusive proof, it appears that this, too, is an effect of the Internet. When you're getting news from one source, the source doesn't draw your attention much to its own errors and omissions. Corrections, after all, are buried in tiny type on an inside page. But as masses of news readers went online and began to hear from multiple sources, the differences in coverage were drawn out and amplified. You don't hear about the _New York Times_ 's problems much from the _New York Times_ \u2014but you do hear about them from political blogs, like the _Daily Kos_ or _Little Green Footballs,_ and from groups on both sides of the spectrum, like MoveOn or RightMarch. More voices, in other words, means less trust in any given voice.\n\nAs Internet thinker Clay Shirky has pointed out, the new, low trust levels may not be inappropriate. It may be that the broadcast era kept trust artificially high. But as a consequence, for most of us now, the difference in authority between a blog post and an article in the _New Yorker_ is much smaller than one would think.\n\nEditors at Yahoo News, the biggest news site on the Internet, can see this trend in action. With over 85 million daily visitors, when Yahoo links to articles on other servers\u2014even those of nationally known papers\u2014it has to give technicians advance warning so that they can handle the load. A single link can generate up to 12 million views. But according to an executive in the news department, it doesn't matter much to Yahoo's users where the news is coming from. A spicy headline will win over a more trusted news source any day. \"People don't make much of a distinction between the _New York Times_ and some random blogger,\" the executive told me.\n\nThis is Internet news: Each article ascends the most forwarded lists or dies an ignominious death on its own. In the old days, _Rolling Stone_ readers would get the magazine in the mail and leaf through it; now, the popular stories circulate online independent of the magazine. I read the expos\u00e9 on General Stanley McChrystal but had no idea that the cover story was about Lady Gaga. The attention economy is ripping the binding, and the pages that get read are the pages that are frequently the most topical, scandalous, and viral.\n\nNor is debundling just about print media. While the journalistic hand-wringing has focused mostly on the fate of the newspaper, TV channels face the same dilemma. From Google to Microsoft to Comcast, executives are quite clear that what they call convergence is coming soon. Close to a million Americans are unplugging from cable TV offerings and getting their video online every year\u2014and those numbers will accelerate as more services like Netflix's movie-on-demand and Hulu go online. When TV goes fully digital, channels become little more than brands\u2014and the order of programs, like the order of articles, is determined by the user's interest and attention, not the station manager.\n\nAnd of course, that opens the door for personalization. \"Internet connected TV is going to be a reality. It will dramatically change the ad industry forever. Ads will become interactive and delivered to individual TV sets according to the user,\" Google VP for global media Henrique de Castro has said. We may say good-bye, in other words, to the yearly ritual of the Super Bowl commercial, which won't create the same buzz when everyone is watching different ads.\n\nIf trust in news agencies is falling, it is rising in the new realm of amateur and algorithmic curation. If the newspaper and magazine are being torn apart on one end, the pages are being recompiled on the other\u2014a different way every time. Facebook is an increasingly vital source of news for this reason: Our friends and family are more likely to know what's important and relevant to us than some newspaper editor in Manhattan.\n\nPersonalization proponents often point to social media like Facebook to dispute the notion that we'll end up in a narrow, overfiltered world. Friend your softball buddy on Facebook, the argument goes, and you'll have to listen to his political rants even if you disagree.\n\nSince they have trust, it's true that the people we know can bring some focus to topics outside our immediate purview. But there are two problems with relying on a network of amateur curators. First, by definition, the average person's Facebook friends will be much more like that person than a general interest news source. This is especially true because our physical communities are becoming more homogeneous as well\u2014and we generally know people who live near us. Because your softball buddy lives near you, he's likely to share many of your views. It's ever less likely that we'll come to be close with people very different from us, online or off\u2014and thus it's less likely we'll come into contact with different points of view.\n\nSecond, personalization filters will get better and better at overlaying themselves on individuals' recommendations. Like your friend Sam's posts on football but not his erratic musings on _CSI_? A filter watching and learning which pieces of content you interact with can start to sift one from another\u2014and undermine even the limited leadership that a group of friends and pundits can offer. Google Reader, another product from Google that helps people manage streams of posts from blogs, now has a feature called Sort by Magic, which does precisely this.\n\nThis leads to the final way in which the future of media is likely to be different than we expected. Since its early days, Internet evangelists have argued that it was an inherently active medium. \"We think basically you watch television to turn your brain off, and you work on your computer when you want to turn your brain on,\" Apple founder Steve Jobs told _Macworld_ in 2004.\n\nAmong techies, these two paradigms came to be known as push technology and pull technology. A Web browser is an example of pull technology: You put in an address, and your computer pulls information from that server. Television and the mail, on the other hand, are push technologies: The information shows up on the tube or at your doorstop without any action on your end. Internet enthusiasts were excited about the shift from push to pull for reasons that are now pretty obvious: Rather than wash the masses in waves of watered-down, lowest-common-denominator content, pull media put users in control.\n\nThe problem is that pull is actually a lot of work. It requires you to be constantly on your feet, curating your own media experience. That's way more energy than TV requires during the whopping thirty-six hours a week that Americans watch today.\n\nIn TV network circles, there's a name for the passive way with which Americans make most of those viewing decisions: the theory of least objectionable programming. Researching TV viewers' behavior in the 1970s, pay-per-view innovator Paul Klein noticed that people quit channel surfing far more quickly than one might suspect. During most of those thirty-six hours a week, the theory suggests, we're not looking for a program in particular. We're just looking to be unobjectionably entertained.\n\nThis is part of the reason TV advertising has been such a bonanza for the channel's owners. Because people watch TV passively, they're more likely to keep watching when ads come on. When it comes to persuasion, passive is powerful.\n\nWhile the broadcast TV era may be coming to a close, the era of least objectionable programming probably isn't\u2014and personalization stands to make the experience even more, well, unobjectionable. One of YouTube's top corporate priorities is the development of a product called LeanBack, which strings together videos in a row to provide the benefits of push and pull. It's less like surfing the Web and more like watching TV\u2014a personalized experience that lets the user do less and less. Like the music service Pandora, LeanBack viewers can easily skip videos and give the viewer feedback for picking the next videos\u2014thumbs up for this one, thumbs down for these three. LeanBack would learn. Over time, the vision is for LeanBack to be like your own personal TV channel, stringing together content you're interested in while requiring less and less engagement from you.\n\nSteve Jobs's proclamation that computers are for turning your brain on may have been a bit too optimistic. In reality, as personalized filtering gets better and better, the amount of energy we'll have to devote to choosing what we'd like to see will continue to decrease.\n\nAnd while personalization is changing our experience of news, it's also changing the economics that determine what stories get produced.\n\n#  **The Big Board**\n\nThe offices of Gawker Media, the ascendant blog empire based in SoHo, look little like the newsroom of the _New York Times_ a few miles to the north. But the driving difference between the two is the flat-screen TV that hovers over the room.\n\nThis is the Big Board, and on it are a list of articles and numbers. The numbers represent the number of times each article has been read, and they're big: Gawker's Web sites routinely see hundreds of millions of page views a month. The Big Board captures the top posts across the company's Web sites, which focus on everything from media (Gawker) to gadgets (Gizmodo) to porn (Fleshbot). Write an article that makes it onto the Big Board, and you're liable to get a raise. Stay off it for too long, and you may need to find a different job.\n\nAt the _New York Times,_ reporters and bloggers aren't allowed to see how many people click on their stories. This isn't just a rule, it's a philosophy that the _Times_ lives by: The point of being the newspaper of record is to provide readers with the benefit of excellent, considered editorial judgment. \"We don't let metrics dictate our assignments and play,\" _New York Times_ editor Bill Keller said, \"because we believe readers come to us for our judgment, not the judgment of the crowd. We're not 'American Idol.' \" Readers can vote with their feet by subscribing to another paper if they like, but the _Times_ doesn't pander. Younger _Times_ writers who are concerned about such things have to essentially bribe the paper's system administrators to give them a peek at their stats. (The paper does use aggregate statistics to determine which online features to expand or cut.)\n\nIf the Internet's current structures mostly tend toward fragmentation and local homogeneity, there is one exception: The only thing that's better than providing articles that are relevant to you is providing articles that are relevant to everyone. Traffic watching is a new addiction for bloggers and managers\u2014and as more sites publish their most-popular lists, readers can join in the fun too.\n\nOf course, journalistic traffic chasing isn't exactly a new phenomenon: Since the 1800s, papers have boosted their circulations with sensational reports. Joseph Pulitzer, in honor of whom the eponymous prizes are awarded each year, was a pioneer of using scandal, sex, fearmongering, and innuendo to drive sales.\n\nBut the Internet adds a new level of sophistication and granularity to the pursuit. Now the _Huffington Post_ can put an article on its front page and know within minutes whether it's trending viral; if it is, the editors can kick it by promoting it more heavily. The dashboard that allows editors to watch how stories are doing is considered the crown jewel of the enterprise. Associated Content pays an army of online contributors small amounts to troll search queries and write pages that answer the most common questions; those whose pages see a lot of traffic share in the advertising revenue. Sites like Digg and Reddit attempt to turn the whole Internet into a most-popular list with increasing sophistication, by allowing users to vote submitted articles from throughout the Web onto the site's front page. Reddit's algorithm even has a kind of physics built into it so that articles that don't receive a constant amount of approval will begin to fade, and its front page mixes the articles the group thinks are most important with your personal preferences and behavior\u2014a marriage of the filter bubble and the most-popular list.\n\n_Las \u00daltimas Noticias,_ a major paper in Chile, began basing its content entirely on what readers clicked on in 2004: Stories with lots of clicks got follow-ups, and stories with no clicks got killed. The reporters don't have beats anymore\u2014they just try to gin up stories that will get clicks.\n\nAt Yahoo's popular _Upshot_ news blog, a team of editors mine the data produced by streams of search queries to see what terms people are interested in, in real time. Then they produce articles responsive to those queries: When a lot of people search for \"Obama's birthday,\" _Upshot_ produces an article in response, and soon the searchers are landing on a Yahoo page and seeing Yahoo advertising. \"We feel like the differentiator here, what separates us from a lot of our competitors is our ability to aggregate all this data,\" the vice president of Yahoo Media told the _New York Times._ \"This idea of creating content in response to audience insight and audience needs is one component of the strategy, but it's a big component.\"\n\nAnd what tops the traffic charts? \"If it bleeds, it leads\" is one of the few news maxims that has continued into the new era. Obviously, what's popular differs among audiences: A study of the _Times_ 's most-popular list found that articles that touched on Judaism were often forwarded, presumably due to the _Times_ 's readership. In addition, the study concluded, \"more practically useful, surprising, affect-laden, and positively valenced articles are more likely to be among the newspaper's most e-mailed stories on a given day, as are articles that evoke more awe, anger, and anxiety, and less sadness.\"\n\nElsewhere, the items that top most-popular lists get a bit more crass. The site Buzzfeed recently linked to the \"headline that has everything\" from Britain's _Evening Herald:_ \"Woman in Sumo Wrestler Suit Assaulted Her Ex-girlfriend in Gay Pub After She Waved at a Man Dressed as a Snickers Bar.\" The top story in 2005 for the _Seattle Times_ stayed on the most-read list for weeks; it concerned a man who died after having sex with a horse. The _Los Angeles Times_ 's top story in 2007 was an article about the world's ugliest dog.\n\nResponsiveness to the audience sounds like a good thing\u2014and in a lot of cases, it is. \"If we view the role of cultural products as giving us something to talk about,\" writes a _Wall Street Journal_ reporter who looked into the most-popular phenomenon, \"then the most important thing might be that everyone sees the same thing and not what the thing is.\" Traffic chasing takes media making off its Olympian heights, placing journalists and editors on the same plane with everyone else. The _Washington Post_ ombudsman described journalists' often paternalistic approach to readers: \"In a past era, there was little need to share marketing information with the _Post_ 's newsroom. Profits were high. Circulation was robust. Editors decided what they thought readers needed, not necessarily what they wanted.\"\n\nThe Gawker model is almost the precise opposite. If the _Washington Post_ emulates Dad, these new enterprises are more like fussy, anxious children squalling to be played with and picked up.\n\nWhen I asked him about the prospects for important but unpopular news, the Media Lab's Nicholas Negroponte smiled. On one end of the spectrum, he said, is sycophantic personalization\u2014\"You're so great and wonderful, and I'm going to tell you exactly what you want to hear.\" On the other end is the parental approach: \"I'm going to tell you this whether you want to hear this or not, because you need to know.\" Currently, we're headed in the sycophantic direction. \"There will be a long period of adjustment,\" says Professor Michael Schudson, \"as the separation of church and state is breaking down, so to speak. In moderation, that seems okay, but Gawker's Big Board is a scary extreme, it's surrender.\"\n\n#  **Of Apple and Afghanistan**\n\nGoogle News pays more attention to political news than many of the creators of the filter bubble. After all, it draws in large part on the decisions of professional editors. But even in Google News, stories about Apple trump stories about the war in Afghanistan.\n\nI enjoy my iPhone and iPad, but it's hard to argue that these things are of similar importance to developments in Afghanistan. But this Apple-centric ranking is indicative of what the combination of popular lists and the filter bubble will leave out: Things that are important but complicated. \"If traffic ends up guiding coverage,\" the _Washington Post_ 's ombudsman writes, \"will _The Post_ choose not to pursue some important stories because they're 'dull'?\"\n\nWill an article about, say, child poverty ever seem hugely personally relevant to many of us, beyond the academics studying the field and the people directly affected? Probably not, but it's still important to know about.\n\nCritics on the left frequently argue that the nation's top media underreport the war. But for many of us, myself included, reading about Afghanistan is a chore. The story is convoluted, confusing, complex, and depressing.\n\nIn the editorial judgment of the _Times,_ however, I need to know about it, and because they persist in putting it on the front page despite what must be abominably low traffic rates, I continue to read about it. (This doesn't mean the _Times_ is overruling my own inclinations. It's just supporting one of my inclinations\u2014to be informed about the world\u2014over the more immediate inclination to click on whatever tickles my fancy.) There are places where media that prioritize importance over popularity or personal relevance are useful\u2014even necessary.\n\nClay Shirky points out that newspaper readers always mostly skipped over the political stuff. But to do so, they had to at least glance at the front page\u2014and so, if there was a huge political scandal, enough people would know about it to make an impact at the polls. \"The question,\" Shirky says, \"is how can the average citizen ignore news of the day to the ninety-ninth percentile and periodically be alarmed when there is a crisis? How do you threaten business and civic leaders with the possibility that if things get too corrupt, the alarm can be sounded?\" The front page played that role\u2014but now it's possible to skip it entirely.\n\nWhich brings us back to John Dewey. In Dewey's vision, it is these issues\u2014\"indirect, extensive, enduring and serious consequences of conjoint and interacting behavior\"\u2014that call the public into existence. The important matters that indirectly touch all of our lives but exist out of the sphere of our immediate self-interest are the bedrock and the raison d'\u00eatre of democracy. _American Idol_ may unite a lot of us around the same fireplace, but it doesn't call out the citizen in us. For better or worse\u2014I'd argue for better\u2014the editors of the old media did.\n\nThere's no going back, of course. Nor should there be: the Internet still has the potential to be a better medium for democracy than broadcast, with its one-direction-only information flows, ever could be. As journalist A. J. Liebling pointed out, freedom of the press was for those who owned one. Now we all do.\n\nBut at the moment, we're trading a system with a defined and well-debated sense of its civic responsibilities and roles for one with no sense of ethics. The Big Board is tearing down the wall between editorial decision-making and the business side of the operation. While Google and others are beginning to grapple with the consequences, most personalized filters have no way of prioritizing what really matters but gets fewer clicks. And in the end, \"Give the people what they want\" is a brittle and shallow civic philosophy.\n\nBut the rise of the filter bubble doesn't just affect how we process news. It can also affect how we think.\n**3**\n\n**The Adderall Society**\n\nIt is hardly possible to overrate the value . . . of placing human beings in contact with persons dissimilar to themselves, and with modes of thought and action unlike those with which they are familiar. . . . Such communication has always been, and is peculiarly in the present age, one of the primary sources of progress.\n\n\u2014 _John Stuart Mill_\n\nThe manner in which some of the most important individual discoveries were arrived at reminds one more of a sleepwalker's performance than an electronic brain's.\n\n\u2014 _Arthur Koestler, The Sleepwalkers_\n\n**I** n the spring of 1963, Geneva was swarming with diplomats. Delegations from eighteen countries had arrived for negotiations on the Nuclear Test Ban treaty, and meetings were under way in scores of locations throughout the Swiss capital. After one afternoon of discussions between the American and Russian delegations, a young KGB officer approached a forty-year-old American diplomat named David Mark. \"I'm new on the Soviet delegation, and I'd like to talk to you,\" he whispered to Mark in Russian, \"but I don't want to talk here. I want to have lunch with you.\" After reporting the contact to colleagues at the CIA, Mark agreed, and the two men planned a meeting at a local restaurant the following day.\n\nAt the restaurant, the officer, whose name was Yuri Nosenko, explained that he'd gotten into a bit of a scrape. On his first night in Geneva, Nosenko had drunk too much and brought a prostitute back to his hotel room. When he awoke, to his horror, he found that his emergency stash of $900 in Swiss francs was missing\u2014no small sum in 1963. \"I've got to make it up,\" Nosenko told him. \"I can give you some information that will be very interesting to the CIA, and all I want is my money.\" They set up a second meeting, to which Nosenko arrived in an obviously inebriated state. \"I was snookered,\" Nosenko admitted later\u2014\"very drunk.\"\n\nIn exchange for the money, Nosenko promised to spy for the CIA in Moscow, and in January 1964 he met directly with CIA handlers to discuss his findings. This time, Nosenko had big news: He claimed to have handled the KGB file of Lee Harvey Oswald and said it contained nothing suggesting the Soviet Union had foreknowledge of Kennedy's assassination, potentially ruling out Soviet involvement in the event. He was willing to share more of the file's details with the CIA if he would be allowed to defect and resettle in the United States.\n\nNosenko's offer was quickly transmitted to CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. It seemed like a potentially enormous break: Only months after Kennedy had been shot, determining who was behind his assassination was one of the agency's top priorities. But how could they know if Nosenko was telling the truth? James Jesus Angleton, one of the lead agents on Nosenko's case, was skeptical. Nosenko could be a trap\u2014even part of a \"master plot\" to draw the CIA off the trail. After much discussion, the agents agreed to let Nosenko defect: If he was lying, it would indicate that the Soviet Union _did_ know something about Oswald, and if he was telling the truth, he would be useful for counterintelligence.\n\nAs it turned out, they were wrong about both. Nosenko traveled to the United States in 1964, and the CIA collected a massive, detailed dossier on their latest catch. But almost as soon as he started the debriefing process, inconsistencies began to emerge. Nosenko claimed he'd graduated from his officer training program in 1949, but the CIA's documents indicated otherwise. He claimed to have no access to documents that KGB officers of his station ought to have had. And why was this man with a wife and child at home in Russia defecting without them?\n\nAngleton became more and more suspicious, especially after his drinking buddy Kim Philby was revealed to be a Soviet spy. Clearly, Nosenko was a decoy sent to dispute and undermine the intelligence the agency was getting from another Soviet defector. The debriefings became more intense. In 1964, Nosenko was thrown into solitary confinement, where he was subjected for several years to harsh interrogation intended to break him and force him to confess. In one week, he was subjected to polygraph tests for twenty-eight and a half hours. Still, no break was forthcoming.\n\nNot everyone at the CIA thought Nosenko was a plant. And as more details from his biography became clear, it came to seem more and more likely that the man they had imprisoned was no spymaster. Nosenko's father was the minister of shipbuilding and a member of the Communist Party Central Committee who had buildings named after him. When young Yuri had been caught stealing at the Naval Preparatory School and was beaten up by his classmates, his mother had complained directly to Stalin; some of his classmates were sent to the Russian front as punishment. It was looking more and more as though Yuri was just \"the spoiled-brat son of a top leader\" and a bit of a mess. The reason for the discrepancy in graduation dates became clear: Nosenko had been held back a year in school for flunking his exam in Marxism-Leninism, and he was ashamed of it.\n\nBy 1968, the balance of senior CIA agents came to believe that the agency was torturing an innocent man. They gave him $80,000, and set him up in a new identity somewhere in the American South. But the emotional debate over his veracity continued to haunt the CIA for decades, with \"master plan\" theorists sparring with those who believed he was telling the truth. In the end, six separate investigations were made into Nosenko's case. When he passed away in 2008, the news of his death was relayed to the _New York Times_ by a \"senior intelligence official\" who refused to be identified.\n\nOne of the officials most affected by the internal debate was an intelligence analyst by the name of Richards Heuer. Heuer had been recruited to the CIA during the Korean War, but he had always been interested in philosophy, and especially the branch known as epistemology\u2014the study of knowledge. Although Heuer wasn't directly involved in the Nosenko case, he was required to be briefed on it for other work he was doing, and he'd initially fallen for the \"master plot\" hypothesis. Years later, Heuer set out to analyze the analysts\u2014to figure out where the flaws were in the logic that had led to Nosenko's lost years in a CIA prison. The result is a slim volume called _The Psychology of Intelligence Analysis,_ whose preface is full of laudatory comments by Heuer's colleagues and bosses. The book is a kind of Psychology and Epistemology 101 for would-be spooks.\n\nFor Heuer, the core lesson of the Nosenko debacle was clear: \"Intelligence analysts should be self-conscious about their reasoning processes. They should think about how they make judgments and reach conclusions, not just about the judgments and conclusions themselves.\"\n\nDespite evidence to the contrary, Heuer wrote, we have a tendency to believe that the world is as it appears to be. Children eventually learn that a snack removed from view doesn't disappear from the universe, but even as we mature we still tend to conflate seeing with believing. Philosophers call this view na\u00efve realism, and it is as seductive as it is dangerous. We tend to believe we have full command of the facts and that the patterns we see in them are facts as well. (Angleton, the \"master theory\" proponent, was sure that Nosenko's pattern of factual errors indicated that he was hiding something and was breaking under pressure.)\n\nSo what's an intelligence analyst\u2014or anyone who wants to get a good picture of the world, for that matter\u2014to do? First, Heuer suggests, we have to realize that our idea of what's real often comes to us secondhand and in a distorted form\u2014edited, manipulated, and filtered through media, other human beings, and the many distorting elements of the human mind.\n\nNosenko's case was riddled with these distorting factors, and the unreliability of the primary source was only the most obvious one. As voluminous as the set of data that the CIA had compiled on Nosenko was, it was incomplete in certain important ways: The agency knew a lot about his rank and status but had learned very little about his personal background and internal life. This led to a basic unquestioned assumption: \"The KGB would never let a screw-up serve at this high level; therefore, he must be deceiving us.\"\n\n\"To achieve the clearest possible image\" of the world, Heuer writes, \"analysts need more than information.... They also need to understand the lenses through which this information passes.\" Some of these distorting lenses are outside of our heads. Like a biased sample in an experiment, a lopsided selection of data can create the wrong impression: For a number of structural and historical reasons, the CIA record on Nosenko was woefully inadequate when it came to the man's personal history. And some of them are cognitive processes: We tend to convert \"lots of pages of data\" into \"likely to be true,\" for example. When several of them are at work at the same time, it becomes quite difficult to see what's actually going on\u2014a funhouse mirror reflecting a funhouse mirror reflecting reality.\n\nThis distorting effect is one of the challenges posed by personalized filters. Like a lens, the filter bubble invisibly transforms the world we experience by controlling what we see and don't see. It interferes with the interplay between our mental processes and our external environment. In some ways, it can act like a magnifying glass, helpfully expanding our view of a niche area of knowledge. But at the same time, personalized filters limit what we are exposed to and therefore affect the way we think and learn. They can upset the delicate cognitive balance that helps us make good decisions and come up with new ideas. And because creativity is also a result of this interplay between mind and environment, they can get in the way of innovation. If we want to know what the world really looks like, we have to understand how filters shape and skew our view of it.\n\n#  **A Fine Balance**\n\nIt's become a bit in vogue to pick on the human brain. We're \"predictably irrational,\" in the words of behavioral economist Dan Ariely's bestselling book. _Stumbling on Happiness_ author Dan Gilbert presents volumes of data to demonstrate that we're terrible at figuring out what makes us happy. Like audience members at a magic show, we're easily conned, manipulated, and misdirected.\n\nAll of this is true. But as _Being Wrong_ author Kathryn Schulz points out, it's only one part of the story. Human beings may be a walking bundle of miscalculations, contradictions, and irrationalities, but we're built that way for a reason: The same cognitive processes that lead us down the road to error and tragedy are the root of our intelligence and our ability to cope with and survive in a changing world. We pay attention to our mental processes when they fail, but that distracts us from the fact that most of the time, our brains do amazingly well.\n\nThe mechanism for this is a cognitive balancing act. Without our ever thinking about it, our brains tread a tightrope between learning too much from the past and incorporating too much new information from the present. The ability to walk this line\u2014to adjust to the demands of different environments and modalities\u2014is one of human cognition's most astonishing traits. Artificial intelligence has yet to come anywhere close.\n\nIn two important ways, personalized filters can upset this cognitive balance between strengthening our existing ideas and acquiring new ones. First, the filter bubble surrounds us with ideas with which we're already familiar (and already agree), making us overconfident in our mental frameworks. Second, it removes from our environment some of the key prompts that make us want to learn. To understand how, we have to look at what's being balanced in the first place, starting with how we acquire and store information.\n\nFiltering isn't a new phenomenon. It's been around for millions of years\u2014indeed, it was around before humans even existed. Even for animals with rudimentary senses, nearly all of the information coming in through their senses is meaningless, but a tiny sliver is important and sometimes life-preserving. One of the primary functions of the brain is to identify that sliver and decide what to do about it.\n\nIn humans, one of the first steps is to massively compress the data. As Nassim Nicholas Taleb says, \"Information wants to be reduced,\" and every second we reduce a lot of it\u2014compressing most of what our eyes see and ears hear into concepts that capture the gist. Psychologists call these concepts _schemata_ (one of them is a _schema_ ), and they're beginning to be able to identify particular neurons or sets of neurons that correlate with each one\u2014firing, for example, when you recognize a particular object, like a chair. Schemata ensure that we aren't constantly seeing the world anew: Once we've identified something as a chair, we know how to use it.\n\nWe don't do this only with objects; we do it with ideas as well. In a study of how people read the news, researcher Doris Graber found that stories were relatively quickly converted into schemata for the purposes of memorization. \"Details that do not seem essential at the time and much of the context of a story are routinely pared,\" she writes in her book _Processing the News._ \"Such leveling and sharpening involves condensation of all features of a story.\" Viewers of a news segment on a child killed by a stray bullet might remember the child's appearance and tragic background, but not the reportage that overall crime rates are down.\n\nSchemata can actually get in the way of our ability to directly observe what's happening. In 1981, researcher Claudia Cohen instructed subjects to watch a video of a woman celebrating her birthday. Some are told that she's a waitress, while others are told she's a librarian. Later, the groups are asked to reconstruct the scene. The people who are told she's a waitress remember her having a beer; those told she was a librarian remember her wearing glasses and listening to classical music (the video shows her doing all three). The information that didn't jibe with her profession was more often forgotten. In some cases, schemata are so powerful they can even lead to information being fabricated: Doris Graber, the news researcher, found that up to a third of her forty-eight subjects had added details to their memories of twelve television news stories shown to them, based on the schemata those stories activated.\n\nOnce we've acquired schemata, we're predisposed to strengthen them. Psychological researchers call this confirmation bias\u2014a tendency to believe things that reinforce our existing views, to see what we want to see.\n\nOne of the first and best studies of confirmation bias comes from the end of the college football season in 1951\u2014Princeton versus Dartmouth. Princeton hadn't lost a game all season. Its quarterback, Dick Kazmaier, had just been on the cover of _Time_. Things started off pretty rough, but after Kazmaier was sent off the field in the second quarter with a broken nose, the game got really dirty. In the ensuing melee, a Dartmouth player ended up with a broken leg.\n\nPrinceton won, but afterward there were recriminations in both college's papers. Princetonians blamed Dartmouth for starting the low blows; Dartmouth thought Princeton had an ax to grind once their quarterback got hurt. Luckily, there were some psychologists on hand to make sense of the conflicting versions of events.\n\nThey asked groups of students from both schools who hadn't seen the game to watch a film of it and count how many infractions each side made. Princeton students, on average, saw 9.8 infractions by Dartmouth; Dartmouth students thought their team was guilty of only 4.3. One Dartmouth alumnus who received a copy of the film complained that his version must be missing parts\u2014he didn't see any of the roughhousing he'd heard about. Boosters of each school saw what they wanted to see, not what was actually on the film.\n\nPhilip Tetlock, a political scientist, found similar results when he invited a variety of academics and pundits into his office and asked them to make predictions about the future in their areas of expertise. Would the Soviet Union fall in the next ten years? In what year would the U.S. economy start growing again? For ten years, Tetlock kept asking these questions. He asked them not only of experts, but also of folks he'd brought in off the street\u2014plumbers and schoolteachers with no special expertise in politics or history. When he finally compiled the results, even he was surprised. It wasn't just that the normal folks' predictions beat the experts'. The experts' predictions weren't even close.\n\nWhy? Experts have a lot invested in the theories they've developed to explain the world. And after a few years of working on them, they tend to see them everywhere. For example, bullish stock analysts banking on rosy financial scenarios were unable to identify the housing bubble that nearly bankrupted the economy\u2014even though the trends that drove it were pretty clear to anyone looking. It's not just that experts are vulnerable to confirmation bias\u2014it's that they're _especially_ vulnerable to it.\n\nNo schema is an island: Ideas in our heads are connected in networks and hierarchies. _Key_ isn't a useful concept without _lock, door,_ and a slew of other supporting ideas. If we change these concepts too quickly\u2014altering our concept of _door_ without adjusting _lock,_ for example\u2014we could end up removing or altering ideas that other ideas depend on and have the whole system come crashing down. Confirmation bias is a conservative mental force helping to shore up our schemata against erosion.\n\nLearning, then, is a balance. Jean Piaget, one of the major figures in developmental psychology, describes it as a process of assimilation and accommodation. Assimilation happens when children adapt objects to their existing cognitive structures\u2014as when an infant identifies every object placed in the crib as something to suck on. Accommodation happens when we adjust our schemata to new information\u2014\"Ah, this isn't something to suck on, it's something to make a noise with!\" We modify our schemata to fit the world and the world to fit our schemata, and it's in properly balancing the two processes that growth occurs and knowledge is built.\n\nThe filter bubble tends to dramatically amplify confirmation bias\u2014in a way, it's designed to. Consuming information that conforms to our ideas of the world is easy and pleasurable; consuming information that challenges us to think in new ways or question our assumptions is frustrating and difficult. This is why partisans of one political stripe tend not to consume the media of another. As a result, an information environment built on click signals will favor content that supports our existing notions about the world over content that challenges them.\n\nDuring the 2008 presidential campaign, for example, rumors swirled persistently that Barack Obama, a practicing Christian, was a follower of Islam. E-mails circulated to millions, offering \"proof\" of Obama's \"real\" religion and reminding voters that Obama spent time in Indonesia and had the middle name Hussein. The Obama campaign fought back on television and encouraged its supporters to set the facts straight. But even a front-page scandal about his Christian priest, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, was unable to puncture the mythology. Fifteen percent of Americans stubbornly held on to the idea that Obama was a Muslim.\n\nThat's not so surprising\u2014Americans have never been very well informed about our politicians. What's perplexing is that since the election, the percentage of Americans who hold that belief has nearly doubled, and the increase, according to data collected by the Pew Charitable Trusts, has been greatest among people who are college educated. People with some college education were more likely in some cases to believe the story than people with none\u2014a strange state of affairs.\n\nWhy? According to the _New Republic_ 's Jon Chait, the answer lies with the media: \"Partisans are more likely to consume news sources that confirm their ideological beliefs. People with more education are more likely to follow political news. Therefore, people with more education can actually become mis-educated.\" And while this phenomenon has always been true, the filter bubble automates it. In the bubble, the proportion of content that validates what you know goes way up.\n\nWhich brings us to the second way the filter bubble can get in the way of learning: It can block what researcher Travis Proulx calls \"meaning threats,\" the confusing, unsettling occurrences that fuel our desire to understand and acquire new ideas.\n\nResearchers at the University of California at Santa Barbara asked subjects to read two modified versions of \"The Country Doctor,\" a strange, dreamlike short story by Franz Kafka. \"A seriously ill man was waiting for me in a village ten miles distant,\" begins the story. \"A severe snowstorm filled the space between him and me.\" The doctor has no horse, but when he goes to the stable, it's warm and there's a horsey scent. A belligerent groom hauls himself out of the muck and offers to help the doctor. The groom calls two horses and attempts to rape the doctor's maid, while the doctor is whisked to the patient's house in a snowy instant. And that's just the beginning\u2014the weirdness escalates. The story concludes with a series of non sequiturs and a cryptic aphorism: \"Once one responds to a false alarm on the night bell, there's no making it good again\u2014not ever.\"\n\nThe Kafka-inspired version of the story includes meaning threats\u2014incomprehensible events that threaten readers' expectations about the world and shake their confidence in their ability to understand. But the researchers also prepared another version of the story with a much more conventional narrative, complete with a happily-ever-after ending and appropriate, cartoony illustrations. The mysteries and odd occurrences are explained. After reading one version or the other, the study's participants were asked to switch tasks and identify patterns in a set of numbers. The group that read the version adopted from Kafka did nearly twice as well\u2014a dramatic increase in the ability to identify and acquire new patterns. \"The key to our study is that our participants were surprised by the series of unexpected events, and they had no way to make sense of them,\" Proulx wrote. \"Hence, they strived to make sense of something else.\"\n\nFor similar reasons, a filtered environment could have consequences for curiosity. According to psychologist George Lowenstein, curiosity is aroused when we're presented with an \"information gap.\" It's a sensation of deprivation: A present's wrapping deprives us of the knowledge of what's in it, and as a result we become curious about its contents. But to feel curiosity, we have to be conscious that something's being hidden. Because the filter bubble hides things invisibly, we're not as compelled to learn about what we don't know.\n\nAs University of Virginia media studies professor and Google expert Siva Vaidhyanathan writes in \"The Googlization of Everything\": \"Learning is by definition an encounter with what you don't know, what you haven't thought of, what you couldn't conceive, and what you never understood or entertained as possible. It's an encounter with what's other\u2014even with otherness as such. The kind of filter that Google interposes between an Internet searcher and what a search yields shields the searcher from such radical encounters.\" Personalization is about building an environment that consists entirely of the adjacent unknown\u2014the sports trivia or political punctuation marks that don't really shake our schemata but _feel_ like new information. The personalized environment is very good at answering the questions we have but not at suggesting questions or problems that are out of our sight altogether. It brings to mind the famous Pablo Picasso quotation: \"Computers are useless. They can only give you answers.\"\n\nStripped of the surprise of unexpected events and associations, a perfectly filtered world would provoke less learning. And there's another mental balance that personalization can upset: the balance between open-mindedness and focus that makes us creative.\n\n#  **The Adderall Society**\n\nThe drug Adderall is a mixture of amphetamines. Prescribed for attention deficit disorder, it's become a staple for thousands of overscheduled, sleep-deprived students, allowing them to focus for long stretches on a single arcane research paper or complex lab assignment.\n\nFor people without ADD, Adderall also has a remarkable effect. On Erowid, an online forum for recreational drug users and \"mind hackers,\" there's post after post of testimonials to the drug's power to extend focus. \"The part of my brain that makes me curious about whether I have new e-mails in my inbox apparently shut down,\" author Josh Foer wrote in an article on _Slate._ \"Normally, I can only stare at my computer screen for about 20 minutes at a time. On Adderall, I was able to work in hourlong chunks.\"\n\nIn a world of constant interruptions, as work demands only increase, Adderall is a compelling value proposition. Who couldn't use a little cognitive boost? Among the vocal class of neuroenhancement proponents, Adderall and drugs like it may even be the key to our economic future. \"If you're a fifty-five-year-old in Boston, you have to compete with a twenty-six-year-old from Mumbai now, and those kinds of pressures [to use enhancing drugs] are only going to grow,\" Zack Lynch of the neurotech consulting firm NeuroInsights told a _New Yorker_ correspondent.\n\nBut Adderall also has some serious side effects. It's addictive. It dramatically boosts blood pressure. And perhaps most important, it seems to decrease associative creativity. After trying Adderall for a week, Foer was impressed with its powers, cranking out pages and pages of text and reading through dense scholarly articles. But, he wrote, \"it was like I was thinking with blinders on.\" \"With this drug,\" an Erowid experimenter wrote, \"I become calculating and conservative. In the words of one friend, I think 'inside the box.'\" Martha Farah, the director of the University of Pennsylvania's Center for Cognitive Neuroscience, has bigger worries: \"I'm a little concerned that we could be raising a generation of very focused accountants.\"\n\nLike many psychoactive drugs, we still know little about why Adderall has the effects it has\u2014or even entirely what the effects are. But the drug works in part by increasing levels of the neurotransmitter norepinephrine, and norepinephrine has some very particular effects: For one thing, it reduces our sensitivity to new stimuli. ADHD patients call the problem hyperfocus\u2014a trancelike, \"zoned out\" ability to focus on one thing to the exclusion of everything else.\n\nOn the Internet, personalized filters could promote the same kind of intense, narrow focus you get from a drug like Adderall. If you like yoga, you get more information and news about yoga\u2014and less about, say, bird-watching or baseball.\n\nIn fact, the search for perfect relevance and the kind of serendipity that promotes creativity push in opposite directions. \"If you like this, you'll like that\" can be a useful tool, but it's not a source for creative ingenuity. By definition, ingenuity comes from the juxtaposition of ideas that are far apart, and relevance comes from finding ideas that are similar. Personalization, in other words, may be driving us toward an Adderall society, in which hyperfocus displaces general knowledge and synthesis.\n\nPersonalization can get in the way of creativity and innovation in three ways. First, the filter bubble artificially limits the size of our \"solution horizon\"\u2014the mental space in which we search for solutions to problems. Second, the information environment inside the filter bubble will tend to lack some of the key traits that spur creativity. Creativity is a context-dependent trait: We're more likely to come up with new ideas in some environments than in others; the contexts that filtering creates aren't the ones best suited to creative thinking. Finally, the filter bubble encourages a more passive approach to acquiring information, which is at odds with the kind of exploration that leads to discovery. When your doorstep is crowded with salient content, there's little reason to travel any farther.\n\nIn his seminal book _The Act of Creation,_ Arthur Koestler describes creativity as \"bisociation\"\u2014the intersection of two \"matrices\" of thought: \"Discovery is an analogy no one has ever seen before.\" Friedrich Kekule's epiphany about the structure of a benzene molecule after a daydream about a snake eating its tail is an example. So is Larry Page's insight to apply the technique of academic citation to search. \"Discovery often means simply the uncovering of something which has always been there but was hidden from the eye by the blinkers of habit,\" Koestler wrote. Creativity \"uncovers, selects, re-shuffles, combines, synthesizes already existing facts, ideas, faculties, (and) skills.\"\n\nWhile we still have little insight into exactly where different words, ideas, and associations are located physically in the brain, researchers are beginning to be able to map the terrain abstractly. They know that when you feel as though a word is on the tip of your tongue, it usually is. And they can tell that some concepts are much further apart than others, in neural connections if not in actual physical brain space. Researcher Hans Eysenck has found evidence that the individual differences in how people do this mapping\u2014how they connect concepts together\u2014are the key to creative thought.\n\nIn Eysenck's model, creativity is a search for the right set of ideas to combine. At the center of the mental search space are the concepts most directly related to the problem at hand, and as you move outward, you reach ideas that are more tangentially connected. The solution horizon delimits where we stop searching. When we're instructed to \"think outside the box,\" the box represents the solution horizon, the limit of the conceptual area that we're operating in. (Of course, solution horizons that are too wide are a problem, too, because more ideas means exponentially more combinations.)\n\nProgrammers building artificially intelligent chess masters learned the importance of the solution horizon the hard way. The early ones trained the computer to look at every possible combination of moves. This resulted in an explosion of possibilities, which in turn meant that even very powerful computers could only look a limited number of moves ahead. Only when programmers discovered heuristics that allowed the computers to discard some of the moves did they become powerful enough to win against the grand masters of chess. Narrowing the solution horizon, in other words, was key.\n\nIn a way, the filter bubble is a prosthetic solution horizon: It provides you with an information environment that's highly relevant to whatever problem you're working on. Often, this'll be highly useful: When you search for \"restaurant,\" it's likely that you're also interested in near synonyms like \"bistro\" or \"caf\u00e9.\" But when the problem you're solving requires the bisociation of ideas that are indirectly related\u2014as when Page applied the logic of academic citation to the problem of Web search\u2014the filter bubble may narrow your vision too much.\n\nWhat's more, some of the most important creative breakthroughs are spurred by the introduction of the entirely random ideas that filters are designed to rule out.\n\nThe word _serendipity_ originates with the fairy tale \"The Three Princes of Serendip,\" who are continually setting out in search of one thing and finding another. In what researchers call the evolutionary view of innovation, this element of random chance isn't just fortuitous, it's necessary. Innovation requires serendipity.\n\nSince the 1960s, a group of researchers, including Donald Campbell and Dean Simonton, has been pursuing the idea that at a cultural level the process of developing new ideas looks a lot like the process of developing new species. The evolutionary process can be summed up in four words: \"Blind variation, selective retention.\" Blind variation is the process by which mutations and accidents change genetic code, and it's blind because it's chaotic\u2014it's variation that doesn't know where it's going. There's no intent behind it, nowhere in particular that it's headed\u2014it's just the random recombination of genes. Selective retention is the process by which some of the results of blind variation\u2014the offspring\u2014are \"retained\" while others perish. When problems become acute enough for enough people, the argument goes, the random recombination of ideas in millions of heads will tend to produce a solution. In fact, it'll tend to produce the same solution in multiple different heads around the same time.\n\nThe way we selectively combine ideas isn't always blind: As Eysenck's \"solution horizon\" suggests, we don't try to solve our problems by combining every single idea with every other idea in our heads. But when it comes to really new ideas, innovation is in fact often blind. Aharon Kantorovich and Yuval Ne'eman are two historians of science whose work focuses on paradigm shifts, like the move from Newtonian to Einsteinian physics. They argue that \"normal science\"\u2014the day-to-day process of experimentation and prediction\u2014doesn't benefit much from blind variation, because scientists tend to discard random combinations and strange data.\n\nBut in moments of major change, when our whole way of looking at the world shifts and recalibrates, serendipity is often at work. \"Blind discovery is a necessary condition for scientific revolution,\" they write, for a simple reason: The Einsteins and Copernicuses and Pasteurs of the world often have no idea what they're looking for. The biggest breakthroughs are sometimes the ones that we least expect.\n\nThe filter bubble still offers the opportunity for some serendipity, of course. If you're interested in football and local politics, you might still see a story about a play that gives you an idea about how to win the mayoral campaign. But overall, there will tend to be fewer random ideas around\u2014that's part of the point. For a quantified system like a personal filter, it's nearly impossible to sort the usefully serendipitous and randomly provocative from the just plain irrelevant.\n\nThe second way in which the filter bubble can dampen creativity is by removing some of the diversity that prompts us to think in new and innovative ways. In one of the standard creativity tests developed by Karl Duncker in 1945, a researcher hands a subject a box of thumbtacks, a candle, and a book of matches. The subject's job is to attach the candle to the wall so that, when lit, it doesn't drip on the table below (or set the wall on fire). Typically, people try to tack the candle to the wall, or glue it by melting it, or by building complex structures out of the wall with wax and tacks. But the solution (spoiler alert!) is quite simple: Tack the inside of the box to the wall, then place the candle in the box.\n\nDuncker's test gets at one of the key impediments to creativity, what early creativity researcher George Katona described as the reluctance to \"break perceptual set.\" When you're handed a box full of tacks, you'll tend to register the box itself as a container. It takes a conceptual leap to see it as a platform, but even a small change in the test makes that much more likely: If subjects receive the box separately from the tacks, they tend to see the solution much more quickly.\n\nThe process of mapping \"thing with tacks in it\" to the schema \"container\" is called coding; creative candle-platform-builders are those who are able to code objects and ideas in multiple ways. Coding, of course, is very useful: It tells you what you can do with the object; once you've decided that something fits in the \"chair\" schema, you don't have to think twice about sitting on it. But when the coding is too narrow, it impedes creativity.\n\nIn study after study, creative people tend to see things in many different ways and put them in what researcher Arthur Cropley calls \"wide categories.\" The notes from a 1974 study in which participants were told to make groups of similar objects offers an amusing example of the trait in excess: \"Subject 30, a writer, sorted a total of 40 objects.... In response to the candy cigar, he sorted the pipe, matches, cigar, apple, and sugar cubes, explaining that all were related to consumption. In response to the apple, he sorted only the wood block with the nail driven into it, explaining that the apple represented health and vitality (or yin) and that the wood block represented a coffin with a nail in it, or death (or yang). Other sortings were similar.\"\n\nIt's not just artists and writers who use wide categories. As Cropley points out in _Creativity in Education and Learning,_ the physicist Niels Bohr famously demonstrated this type of creative dexterity when he was given a university exam at the University of Copenhagen in 1905. One of the questions asked students to explain how they would use a barometer (an instrument that measures atmospheric pressure) to measure the height of a building. Bohr clearly knew what the instructor was going for: Students were supposed to check the atmospheric pressure at the top and bottom of the building and do some math. Instead, he suggested a more original method: One could tie a string to the barometer, lower it, and measure the string\u2014thinking of the instrument as a \"thing with weight.\"\n\nThe unamused instructor gave him a failing grade\u2014his answer, after all, didn't show much understanding of physics. Bohr appealed, this time offering four solutions: You could throw the barometer off the building and count the seconds until it hit the ground (barometer as mass); you could measure the length of the barometer and of its shadow, then measure the building's shadow and calculate its height (barometer as object with length); you could tie the barometer to a string and swing it at ground level and from the top of the building to determine the difference in gravity (barometer as mass again); or you could use it to calculate air pressure. Bohr finally passed, and one moral of the story is pretty clear: Avoid smartass physicists. But the episode also explains why Bohr was such a brilliant innovator: His ability to see objects and concepts in many different ways made it easier for him to use them to solve problems.\n\nThe kind of categorical openness that supports creativity also correlates with certain kinds of luck. While science has yet to find that there are people whom the universe favors\u2014ask people to guess a random number, and we're all about equally bad at it\u2014there are some traits that people who consider themselves to be lucky share. They're more open to new experiences and new people. They're also more distractable.\n\nRichard Wiseman, a luck researcher at the University of Hertfordshire in England, asked groups of people who considered themselves to be lucky and unlucky to flip through a doctored newspaper and count the number of photographs in it. On the second page, a big headline said, \"Stop counting\u2014there are 43 pictures.\" Another page offered 150 British pounds to readers who noticed it. Wiseman described the results: \"For the most part, the unlucky would just flip past these things. Lucky people would flip through and laugh and say, 'There are 43 photos. That's what it says. Do you want me to bother counting?' We'd say, 'Yeah, carry on.' They'd flip some more and say, 'Do I get my 150 pounds?' Most of the unlucky people didn't notice.\"\n\nAs it turns out, being around people and ideas unlike oneself is one of the best ways to cultivate this sense of open-mindedness and wide categories. Psychologists Charlan Nemeth and Julianne Kwan discovered that bilinguists are more creative than monolinguists\u2014perhaps because they have to get used to the proposition that things can be viewed in several different ways. Even forty-five minutes of exposure to a different culture can boost creativity: When a group of American students was shown a slideshow about China as opposed to one about the United States, their scores on several creativity tests went up. In companies, the people who interface with multiple different units tend to be greater sources of innovation than people who interface only with their own. While nobody knows for certain what causes this effect, it's likely that foreign ideas help us break open our categories.\n\nBut the filter bubble isn't tuned for a diversity of ideas or of people. It's not designed to introduce us to new cultures. As a result, living inside it, we may miss some of the mental flexibility and openness that contact with difference creates.\n\nBut perhaps the biggest problem is that the personalized Web encourages us to spend less time in discovery mode in the first place.\n\n#  **The Age of Discovery**\n\nIn _Where Good Ideas Come From_ , science author Steven Johnson offers a \"natural history of innovation,\" in which he inventories and elegantly illustrates how creativity arises. Creative environments often rely on \"liquid networks\" where different ideas can collide in different configurations. They arrive through serendipity\u2014we set out looking for the answer to one problem and find another\u2014and as a result, ideas emerge frequently in places where random collision is more likely to occur. \"Innovative environments,\" he writes, \"are better at helping their inhabitants explore the adjacent possible\"\u2014the bisociated area in which existing ideas combine to produce new ones\u2014\"because they expose a wide and diverse sample of spare parts\u2014mechanical or conceptual\u2014and they encourage novel ways of recombining those parts.\"\n\nHis book is filled with examples of these environments, from primordial soup to coral reefs and high-tech offices, but Johnson continually returns to two: the city and the Web.\n\n\"For complicated historical reasons,\" he writes, \"they are both environments that are powerfully suited for the creation, diffusion, and adoption of good ideas.\"\n\nThere's no question that Johnson _was_ right: The old, unpersonalized web offered an environment of unparalleled richness and diversity. \"Visit the 'serendipity' article in Wikipedia,\" he writes, and \"you are one click away from entries on LSD, Teflon, Parkinson's disease, Sri Lanka, Isaac Newton, and about two hundred other topics of comparable diversity.\"\n\nBut the filter bubble has dramatically changed the informational physics that determines which ideas we come in contact with. And the new, personalized Web may no longer be as well suited for creative discovery as it once was.\n\nIn the early days of the World Wide Web, when Yahoo was its king, the online terrain felt like an unmapped continent, and its users considered themselves discoverers and explorers. Yahoo was the village tavern where sailors would gather to swap tales about what strange beasts and distant lands they found out at sea. \"The shift from exploration and discovery to the intent-based search of today was inconceivable,\" an early Yahoo editor told search journalist John Battelle. \"Now, we go online expecting everything we want to find will be there. That's a major shift.\"\n\nThis shift from a discovery-oriented Web to a search and retrieval\u2013focused Web mirrors one other piece of the research surrounding creativity. Creativity experts mostly agree that it's a process with at least two key parts: Producing novelty requires a lot of divergent, generative thinking\u2014the reshuffling and recombining that Koestler describes. Then there's a winnowing process\u2014convergent thinking\u2014as we survey the options for one that'll fit the situation. The serendipitous Web attributes that Johnson praises\u2014the way one can hop from article to article on Wikipedia\u2014are friendly to the divergent part of that process.\n\nBut the rise of the filter bubble means that increasingly the convergent, synthetic part of the process is built in. Battelle calls Google a \"database of intentions,\" each query representing something that someone wants to do or know or buy. Google's core mission, in many ways, is to transform those intentions into actions. But the better it gets at that, the worse it'll be at providing serendipity, which, after all, is the process of stumbling across the _un_ intended. Google is great at helping us find what we know we want, but not at finding what we _don't_ know we want.\n\nTo some degree, the sheer volume of information available mitigates this effect. There's far more online content to choose from than there was in even the largest libraries. For an enterprising informational explorer, there's endless terrain to cover. But one of the prices of personalization is that we become a bit more passive in the process. The better it works, the less exploring we have to do.\n\nDavid Gelernter, a Yale professor and early supercomputing visionary, believes that computers will only serve us well when they can incorporate dream logic. \"One of the hardest, most fascinating problems of this cyber-century is how to add 'drift' to the net,\" he writes, \"so that your view sometimes wanders (as your mind wanders when you're tired) into places you hadn't planned to go. Touching the machine brings the original topic back. We need help overcoming rationality sometimes, and allowing our thoughts to wander and metamorphose as they do in sleep.\" To be truly helpful, algorithms may need to work more like the fuzzyminded, nonlinear humans they're supposed to serve.\n\n#  **On California Island**\n\nIn 1510, the Spanish writer Garci Rodriguez de Montalvo published a swashbuckling _Odyssey_ -like novel, _The Exploits of Esplandian,_ which included a description of a vast island called California:\n\nOn the right hand from the Indies exists an island called California very close to a side of the Earthly Paradise; and it was populated by black women, without any man existing there, because they lived in the way of the Amazons. They had beautiful and robust bodies, and were brave and very strong. Their island was the strongest of the World, with its cliffs and rocky shores. Their weapons were golden and so were the harnesses of the wild beasts that they were accustomed to domesticate and ride, because there was no other metal in the island than gold.\n\nRumors of gold propelled the legend of the island of California across Europe, prompting adventurers throughout the continent to set off in search of it. Hern\u00e1n Cort\u00e9s, the Spanish conquistador who led the colonization of the Americas, requested money from Spain's king to lead a worldwide hunt. And when he landed in what we now know as Baja California in 1536, he was certain he'd found the place. It wasn't until one of his navigators, Francisco de Ulloa, traveled up the Gulf of California to the mouth of the Colorado river that it became clear to Cortez that, gold or no, he hadn't found the mythical island.\n\nDespite this discovery, however, the idea that California was an island persisted for several more centuries. Other explorers discovered Puget Sound, near Vancouver, and were certain that it must connect to Baja. Dutch maps from the 1600s routinely show a distended long fragment off the coast of America stretching half the length of the continent. It took Jesuit missionaries literally marching inland and never reaching the other side to fully repudiate the myth.\n\nIt may have persisted for one simple reason: There was no sign on the maps for \"don't know,\" and so the distinction between geographic guesswork and sights that had been witnessed firsthand became blurred. One of history's major cartographic errors, the island of California reminds us that it's not what we don't know that hurts us as much as what we don't know we don't know\u2014what ex\u2013secretary of defense Donald Rumsfeld famously called the unknown unknowns.\n\nThis is one other way that personalized filters can interfere with our ability to properly understand the world: They alter our sense of the map. More unsettling, they often remove its blank spots, transforming known unknowns into unknown ones.\n\nTraditional, unpersonalized media often offer the promise of representativeness. A newspaper editor isn't doing his or her job properly unless to some degree the paper is representative of the news of the day. This is one of the ways one can convert an unknown unknown into a known unknown. If you leaf through the paper, dipping into some articles and skipping over most of them, you at least know there are stories _,_ perhaps whole sections, that you passed over _._ Even if you don't read the article, you notice the headline about a flood in Pakistan\u2014or maybe you're just reminded that, yes, there is a Pakistan.\n\nIn the filter bubble, things look different. You don't see the things that don't interest you at all. You're not even latently aware that there are major events and ideas you're missing. Nor can you take the links you do see and assess how representative they are without an understanding of what the broader environment from which they were selected looks like. As any statistician will tell you, you can't tell how biased the sample is from looking at the sample alone: You need something to compare it to.\n\nAs a last resort, you might look at your selection and ask yourself if it _looks_ like a representative sample. Are there conflicting views? Are there different takes, and different kinds of people reflecting? Even this is a blind alley, however, because with an information set the size of the Internet, you get a kind of fractal diversity: at any level, even within a very narrow information spectrum (atheist goth bowlers, say) there are lots of voices and lots of different takes.\n\nWe're never able to experience the whole world at once. But the best information tools give us a sense of where we stand in it\u2014literally, in the case of a library, and figuratively in the case of a newspaper front page. This was one of the CIA's primary errors with Yuri Nosenko. The agency had collected a specialized subset of information about Nosenko without realizing how specialized it was, and thus despite the many brilliant analysts working for years on the case, it missed what would have been obvious from a whole picture of the man.\n\nBecause personalized filters usually have no Zoom Out function, it's easy to lose your bearings, to believe the world is a narrow island when in fact it's an immense, varied continent.\n**4**\n\n**The You Loop**\n\nI believe this is the quest for what a personal computer really is. It is to capture one's entire life.\n\n\u2014 _Gordon Bell_\n\n**Y** ou have one identity,\" Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg told journalist David Kirkpatrick for his book _The Facebook Effect_. \"The days of you having a different image for your work friends or coworkers and for the other people you know are probably coming to an end pretty quickly.... Having two identities for yourself is an example of a lack of integrity.\"\n\nA year later, soon after the book had been published, twenty-six-year-old Zuckerberg sat onstage with Kirkpatrick and NPR interviewer Guy Raz at the Computer History Museum in Mountain View, California. \"In David's book,\" Raz said, \"you say that people should have one identity.... But I behave a different way around my family than I do around my colleagues.\"\n\nZuckerberg shrugged. \"No, I think that was just a sentence I said.\"\n\nRaz continued: \"Are you the same person right now as when you're with your friends?\"\n\n\"Uh, yeah,\" Zuckerberg said. \"Same awkward self.\"\n\nIf Mark Zuckerberg were a standard mid-twenty-something, this tangle of views might be par for the course: Most of us don't spend too much time musing philosophically about the nature of identity. But Zuckerberg controls the world's most powerful and widely used technology for managing and expressing who we are. And his views on the matter are central to his vision for the company and for the Internet.\n\nSpeaking at an event during New York's Ad Week, Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg said she expected the Internet to change quickly. \"People don't want something targeted to the whole world\u2014they want something that reflects what they want to see and know,\" she said, suggesting that in three to five years that would be the norm. Facebook's goal is to be at the center of that process\u2014the singular platform through which every other service and Web site incorporates your personal and social data. You have one identity, it's your Facebook identity, and it colors your experience everywhere you go.\n\nIt's hard to imagine a more dramatic departure from the early days of the Internet, in which _not_ exposing your identity was part of the appeal. In chat rooms and online forums, your gender, race, age, and location were whatever you said they were, and the denizens of these spaces exulted about the way the medium allowed you to shed your skin. Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) founder John Perry Barlow dreamed of \"creating a world that all may enter without privilege or prejudice accorded by race, economic power, military force, or station of birth.\" The freedom that this offered anyone who was interested to transgress and explore, to try on different personas for size, felt revolutionary.\n\nAs law and commerce have caught up with technology, however, the space for anonymity online is shrinking. You can't hold an anonymous person responsible for his or her actions: Anonymous customers commit fraud, anonymous commenters start flame wars, and anonymous hackers cause trouble. To establish the trust that community and capitalism are built on, you need to know whom you're dealing with.\n\nAs a result, there are dozens of companies working on deanonymizing the Web. PeekYou, a firm founded by the creator of RateMyProfessors.com, is patenting ways of connecting online activities done under a pseudonym with the real name of the person involved. Another company, Phorm, helps Internet service providers use a method called \"deep packet inspection\" to analyze the traffic that flows through their servers; Phorm aims to build nearly comprehensive profiles of each customer to use for advertising and personalized services. And if ISPs are leery, BlueCava is compiling a database of every computer, smartphone, and online-enabled gadget in the world, which can be tied to the individual people who use them. Even if you're using the highest privacy settings in your Web browser, in other words, your hardware may soon give you away.\n\nThese technological developments pave the way for a more persistent kind of personalization than anything we've experienced to date. It also means that we'll increasingly be forced to trust the companies at the center of this process to properly express and synthesize who we really are. When you meet someone in a bar or a park, you look at how they behave and act and form an impression accordingly. Facebook and the other identity services aim to mediate that process online; if they don't do it right, things can get fuzzy and distorted. To personalize well, you have to have the right idea of what represents a person.\n\nThere's another tension in the interplay of identity and personalization. Most personalized filters are based on a three-step model. First, you figure out who people are and what they like. Then, you provide them with content and services that best fit them. Finally, you tune to get the fit just right. Your identity shapes your media. There's just one flaw in this logic: Media also shape identity. And as a result, these services may end up creating a good fit between you and your media by changing ... you. If a self-fulfilling prophecy is a false definition of the world that through one's actions becomes true, we're now on the verge of self-fulfilling identities, in which the Internet's distorted picture of us becomes who we really are.\n\nPersonalized filtering can even affect your ability to choose your own destiny. In \"Of Sirens and Amish Children,\" a muchcited tract, information law theorist Yochai Benkler describes how more-diverse information sources make us freer. Autonomy, Benkler points out, is a tricky concept: To be free, you have to be able not only to do what you want, but to know what's possible to do. The Amish children in the title are plaintiffs in a famous court case, _Wisconsin v. Yoder,_ whose parents sought to prevent them from attending public school so that they wouldn't be exposed to modern life. Benkler argues that this is a real threat to the children's freedom: Not knowing that it's possible to be an astronaut is just as much a prohibition against becoming one as knowing and being barred from doing so.\n\nOf course, too many options are just as problematic as too few\u2014you can find yourself overwhelmed by the number of options or paralyzed by the paradox of choice. But the basic point remains: The filter bubble doesn't just reflect your identity. It also illustrates what choices you have. Students who go to Ivy League colleges see targeted advertisements for jobs that students at state schools are never even aware of. The personal feeds of professional scientists might feature articles about contests that amateurs never become aware of. By illustrating some possibilities and blocking out others, the filter bubble has a hand in your decisions. And in turn, it shapes who you become.\n\n#  **A Bad Theory of You**\n\nThe way that personalization shapes identity is still becoming clear\u2014especially because most of us still spend more time consuming broadcast media than personalized content streams. But by looking at how the major filterers think about identity, it's becoming possible to predict what these changes might look like. Personalization requires a theory of what makes a person\u2014of what bits of data are most important to determine who someone is\u2014and the major players on the Web have quite different ways of approaching the problem.\n\nGoogle's filtering systems, for example, rely heavily on Web history and what you click on (click signals) to infer what you like and dislike. These clicks often happen in an entirely private context: The assumption is that searches for \"intestinal gas\" and celebrity gossip Web sites are between you and your browser. You might behave differently if you thought other people were going to see your searches. But it's that behavior that determines what content you see in Google News, what ads Google displays\u2014what determines, in other words, Google's theory of you.\n\nThe basis for Facebook's personalization is entirely different. While Facebook undoubtedly tracks clicks, its primary way of thinking about your identity is to look at what you share and with whom you interact. That's a whole different kettle of data from Google's: There are plenty of prurient, vain, and embarrassing things we click on that we'd be reluctant to share with all of our friends in a status update. And the reverse is true, too. I'll cop to sometimes sharing links I've barely read\u2014the long investigative piece on the reconstruction of Haiti, the bold political headline\u2014because I like the way it makes me appear to others. The Google self and the Facebook self, in other words, are pretty different people. There's a big difference between \"you are what you click\" and \"you are what you share.\"\n\nBoth ways of thinking have their benefits and drawbacks. With Google's click-based self, the gay teenager who hasn't come out to his parents can still get a personalized Google News feed with pieces from the broader gay community that affirm that he's not alone. But by the same token, a self built on clicks will tend to draw us even more toward the items we're predisposed to look at already\u2014toward our most Pavlovian selves. Your perusal of an article on TMZ.com is filed away, and the next time you're looking at the news, Brad Pitt's marriage drama is more likely to flash on to the screen. (If Google didn't persistently downplay porn, the problem would presumably be far worse.)\n\nFacebook's share-based self is more aspirational: Facebook takes you more at your word, presenting you as you'd like to be seen by others. Your Facebook self is more of a performance, less of a behaviorist black box, and ultimately it may be more prosocial than the bundle of signals Google tracks. But the Facebook approach has its downsides as well\u2014to the extent that Facebook draws on the more public self, it necessarily has less room for private interests and concerns. The same closeted gay teenager's information environment on Facebook might diverge more from his real self. The Facebook portrait remains incomplete.\n\nBoth are pretty poor representations of who we are, in part because there is no one set of data that describes who we are. \"Information about our property, our professions, our purchases, our finances, and our medical history does not tell the whole story,\" writes privacy expert Daniel Solove. \"We are more than the bits of data we give off as we go about our lives.\"\n\nDigital animators and robotics engineers frequently run into a problem known as the _uncanny valley_. The uncanny valley is the place where something is lifelike but not convincingly alive, and it gives people the creeps. It's part of why digital animation of real people still hasn't hit the big screens: When an image looks almost like a real person, but not quite, it's unsettling on a basic psychological level. We're now in the uncanny valley of personalization. The doppelg\u00e4nger selves reflected in our media are a lot like, but not exactly, ourselves. And as we'll see, there are some important things that are lost in the gap between the data and reality.\n\nTo start with, Zuckerberg's statement that we have \"one identity\" simply isn't true. Psychologists have a name for this fallacy: fundamental attribution error. We tend to attribute peoples' behavior to their inner traits and personality rather than to the situations they're placed in. Even in situations where the context clearly plays a major role, we find it hard to separate how someone behaves from who she is.\n\nAnd to a striking degree, our characteristics are fluid. Someone who's aggressive at work may be a doormat at home. Someone who's gregarious when happy may be introverted when stressed. Even some of our closest-held traits\u2014our disinclination to do harm, for example\u2014can be shaped by context. Groundbreaking psychologist Stanley Milgram demonstrated this when, in an oft-cited experiment at Yale in the 1960s, he got decent ordinary people to apparently electrocute other subjects when given the nod by a man in a lab coat.\n\nThere is a reason that we act this way: The personality traits that serve us well when we're at dinner with our family might get in the way when we're in a dispute with a passenger on the train or trying to finish a report at work. The plasticity of the self allows for social situations that would be impossible or intolerable if we always behaved exactly the same way. Advertisers have understood this phenomenon for a long time. In the jargon, it's called _day-parting_ , and it's the reason that you don't hear many beer ads as you're driving to work in the morning. People have different needs and aspirations at eight A.M. than they do at eight P.M. By the same token, billboards in the nightlife district promote different products than billboards in the residential neighborhoods the same partiers go home to.\n\nOn his own Facebook page, Zuckerberg lists \"transparency\" as one of his top Likes. But there's a downside to perfect transparency: One of the most important uses of privacy is to manage and maintain the separations and distinctions among our different selves. With only one identity, you lose the nuances that make for a good personalized fit.\n\nPersonalization doesn't capture the balance between your work self and your play self, and it can also mess with the tension between your aspirational and your current self. How we behave is a balancing act between our future and present selves. In the future, we want to be fit, but in the present, we want the candy bar. In the future, we want to be a well-rounded, well-informed intellectual virtuoso, but right now we want to watch _Jersey Shore._ Behavioral economists call this present bias\u2014the gap between your preferences for your future self and your preferences in the current moment.\n\nThe phenomenon explains why there are so many movies in your Netflix queue. When researchers at Harvard and the Analyst Institute looked at people's movie-rental patterns, they were able to watch as people's future aspirations played against their current desires. \"Should\" movies like _An Inconvenient Truth_ or _Schindler's List_ were often added to the queue, but there they languished while watchers gobbled up \"want\" movies like _Sleepless in Seattle._ And when they had to choose three movies to watch instantly, they were less likely to choose \"should\" movies at all. Apparently there are some movies we'd always rather watch tomorrow.\n\nAt its best, media help mitigate present bias, mixing \"should\" stories with \"want\" stories and encouraging us to dig into the difficult but rewarding work of understanding complex problems. But the filter bubble tends to do the opposite: Because it's our present self that's doing all the clicking, the set of preferences it reflects is necessarily more \"want\" than \"should.\"\n\nThe one-identity problem isn't a fundamental flaw. It's more of a bug: Because Zuckerberg thinks you have one identity and you don't, Facebook will do a worse job of personalizing your information environment. As John Battelle told me, \"We're so far away from the nuances of what it means to be human, as reflected in the nuances of the technology.\" Given enough data and enough programmers, the context problem is solvable\u2014and according to personalization engineer Jonathan McPhie, Google is working on it. We've seen the pendulum swing from the anonymity of the early Internet to the one-identity view currently in vogue; the future may look like something in between.\n\nBut the one-identity problem illustrates one of the dangers of turning over your most personal details to companies who have a skewed view of what identity is. Maintaining separate identity zones is a ritual that helps us deal with the demands of different roles and communities. And something's lost when, at the end of the day, everything inside your filter bubble looks roughly the same. Your bacchanalian self comes knocking at work; your work anxieties plague you on a night out.\n\nAnd when we're aware that everything we do enters a permanent, pervasive online record, another problem emerges: The knowledge that what we do affects what we see and how companies see us can create a chilling effect. Genetic privacy expert Mark Rothstein describes how lax regulations around genetic data can actually reduce the number of people willing to be tested for certain diseases: If you might be discriminated against or denied insurance for having a gene linked to Parkinson's disease, it's not unreasonable just to skip the test and the \"toxic knowledge\" that might result.\n\nIn the same way, when our online actions are tallied and added to a record that companies use to make decisions, we might decide to be more cautious in our surfing. If we knew (or even suspected, for that matter) that purchasers of _101 Ways to Fix Your Credit Score_ tend to get offered lower-premium credit cards, we'd avoid buying the book. \"If we thought that our every word and deed were public,\" writes law professor Charles Fried, \"fear of disapproval or more tangible retaliation might keep us from doing or saying things which we would do or say could we be sure of keeping them to ourselves.\" As Google expert Siva Vaidhyanathan points out, \"F. Scott Fitzgerald's enigmatic Jay Gatsby could not exist today. The digital ghost of Jay Gatz would follow him everywhere.\"\n\nIn theory, the one-identity, context-blind problem isn't impossible to fix. Personalizers will undoubtedly get better at sensing context. They might even be able to better balance long-term and short-term interests. But when they do\u2014when they are able to accurately gauge the workings of your psyche\u2014things get even weirder.\n\n#  **Targeting Your Weak Spots**\n\nThe logic of the filter bubble today is still fairly rudimentary: People who bought the _Iron Man_ DVD are likely to buy _Iron Man II;_ people who enjoy cookbooks will probably be interested in cookware. But for Dean Eckles, a doctoral student at Stanford and an adviser to Facebook, these simple recommendations are just the beginning. Eckles is interested in means, not ends: He cares less about what types of products you like than which kinds of arguments might cause you to choose one over another.\n\nEckles noticed that when buying products\u2014say, a digital camera\u2014different people respond to different pitches. Some people feel comforted by the fact that an expert or product review site will vouch for the camera. Others prefer to go with the product that's most popular, or a money-saving deal, or a brand that they know and trust. Some people prefer what Eckles calls \"high cognition\" arguments\u2014smart, subtle points that require some thinking to get. Others respond better to being hit over the head with a simple message.\n\nAnd while most of us have preferred styles of argument and validation, there are also types of arguments that really turn us off. Some people rush for a deal; others think that the deal means the merchandise is subpar. Just by eliminating the persuasion styles that rub people the wrong way, Eckles found he could increase the effectiveness of marketing materials by 30 to 40 percent.\n\nWhile it's hard to \"jump categories\" in products\u2014what clothing you prefer is only slightly related to what books you enjoy\u2014\"persuasion profiling\" suggests that the kinds of arguments you respond to are highly transferrable from one domain to another. A person who responds to a \"get 20% off if you buy NOW\" deal for a trip to Bermuda is much more likely than someone who doesn't to respond to a similar deal for, say, a new laptop.\n\nIf Eckles is right\u2014and research so far appears to be validating his theory\u2014your \"persuasion profile\" would have a pretty significant financial value. It's one thing to know how to pitch products to you in a specific domain; it's another to be able to improve the hit rate anywhere you go. And once a company like Amazon has figured out your profile by offering you different kinds of deals over time and seeing which ones you responded to, there's no reason it couldn't then sell that information to other companies. (The field is so new that it's not clear if there's a correlation between persuasion styles and demographic traits, but obviously that could be a shortcut as well.)\n\nThere's plenty of good that could emerge from persuasion profiling, Eckles believes. He points to DirectLife, a wearable coaching device by Philips that figures out which arguments get people eating more healthily and exercising more regularly. But he told me he's troubled by some of the possibilities. Knowing what kinds of appeals specific people respond to gives you power to manipulate them on an individual basis.\n\nWith new methods of \"sentiment analysis, it's now possible to guess what mood someone is in. People use substantially more positive words when they're feeling up; by analyzing enough of your text messages, Facebook posts, and e-mails, it's possible to tell good days from bad ones, sober messages from drunk ones (lots of typos, for a start). At best, this can be used to provide content that's suited to your mood: On an awful day in the near future, Pandora might know to preload _Pretty Hate Machine_ for you when you arrive. But it can also be used to take advantage of your psychology.\n\nConsider the implications, for example, of knowing that particular customers compulsively buy things when stressed or when they're feeling bad about themselves, or even when they're a bit tipsy. If persuasion profiling makes it possible for a coaching device to shout \"you can do it\" to people who like positive reinforcement, in theory it could also enable politicians to make appeals based on each voter's targeted fears and weak spots.\n\nInfomercials aren't shown in the middle of the night only because airtime then is cheap. In the wee hours, most people are especially suggestible. They'll spring for the slicer-dicer that they'd never purchase in the light of day. But the three A.M. rule is a rough one\u2014presumably, there are times in all of our daily lives when we're especially inclined to purchase whatever's put in front of us. The same data that provides personalized content can be used to allow marketers to find and manipulate your personal weak spots. And this isn't a hypothetical possibility: Privacy researcher Pam Dixon discovered that a data company called PK List Management offers a list of customers titled \"Free to Me\u2014Impulse Buyers\"; those listed are described as being highly susceptible to pitches framed as sweepstakes.\n\nIf personalized persuasion works for products, it can also work for ideas. There are undoubtedly times and places and styles of argument that make us more susceptible to believe what we're told. Subliminal messaging is illegal because we recognize there are some ways of making an argument that are essentially cheating; priming people with subconsciously flashed words to sell them things isn't a fair game. But it's not such a stretch to imagine political campaigns targeting voters at times when they can circumvent our more reasonable impulses.\n\nWe intuitively understand the power in revealing our deep motivations and desires and how we work, which is why most of us only do that in day-to-day life with people whom we really trust. There's a symmetry to it: You know your friends about as well as they know you. Persuasion profiling, on the other hand, can be done invisibly\u2014you need not have any knowledge that this data is being collected from you\u2014and therefore it's asymmetrical. And unlike some forms of profiling that take place in plain sight (like Netflix), persuasion profiling is handicapped when it's revealed. It's just not the same to hear an automated coach say \"You're doing a great job! I'm telling you that because you respond well to encouragement!\"\n\nSo you don't necessarily see the persuasion profile being made. You don't see it being used to influence your behavior. And the companies we're turning over this data to have no legal obligation to keep it to themselves. In the wrong hands, persuasion profiling gives companies the ability to circumvent your rational decision making, tap into your psychology, and draw out your compulsions. Understand someone's identity, and you're better equipped to influence what he or she does.\n\n#  **A Deep and Narrow Path**\n\nSomeday soon, Google Vice President Marissa Mayer says, the company hopes to make the search box obsolete. \"The next step of search is doing this automatically,\" Eric Schmidt said in 2010. \"When I walk down the street, I want my smartphone to be doing searches constantly\u2014'did you know?' 'did you know?' 'did you know?' 'did you know?' \" In other words, your phone should figure out what you would like to be searching for before you do.\n\nIn the fast-approaching age of search without search, identity drives media. But the personalizers haven't fully grappled with a parallel fact: Media also shapes identity. Political scientist Shanto Iyengar calls one of primary factors accessibility bias, and in a paper titled \"Experimental Demonstrations of the 'Not-So-Minimal' Consequences of Television News,'\" in 1982, he demonstrated how powerful the bias is. Over six days, Iyengar asked groups of New Haven residents to watch episodes of a TV news program, which he had doctored to include different segments for each group.\n\nAfterward, Iyengar asked subjects to rank how important issues like pollution, inflation, and defense were to them. The shifts from the surveys they'd filled out before the study were dramatic: \"Participants exposed to a steady stream of news about defense or about pollution came to believe that defense or pollution were more consequential problems,\" Iyengar wrote. Among the group that saw the clips on pollution, the issue moved from fifth out of six in priority to second.\n\nDrew Westen, a neuropsychologist whose focus is on political persuasion, demonstrates the strength of this priming effect by asking a group of people to memorize a list of words that include _moon_ and _ocean._ A few minutes later, he changes topics and asks the group which detergent they prefer. Though he hasn't mentioned the word, the group's show of hands indicates a strong preference for Tide.\n\nPriming isn't the only way media shape our identities. We're also more inclined to believe what we've heard before. In a 1977 study by Hasher and Goldstein, participants were asked to read sixty statements and mark whether they were true or false. All of the statements were plausible, but some of them (\"French horn players get cash bonuses to stay in the Army\") were true; others (\"Divorce is only found in technically advanced societies\") weren't. Two weeks later, they returned and rated a second batch of statements in which some of the items from the first list had been repeated. By the third time, two weeks after that, the subjects were far more likely to believe the repeated statements. With information as with food, we are what we consume.\n\nAll of these are basic psychological mechanisms. But combine them with personalized media, and troubling things start to happen. Your identity shapes your media, and your media then shapes what you believe and what you care about. You click on a link, which signals an interest in something, which means you're more likely to see articles about that topic in the future, which in turn prime the topic for you. You become trapped in a you loop, and if your identity is misrepresented, strange patterns begin to emerge, like reverb from an amplifier.\n\nIf you're a Facebook user, you've probably run into this problem. You look up your old college girlfriend Sally, mildly curious to see what she is up to after all these years. Facebook interprets this as a sign that you're interested in Sally, and all of a sudden her life is all over your news feed. You're still mildly curious, so you click through on the new photos she's posted of her kids and husband and pets, confirming Facebook's hunch. From Facebook's perspective, it looks as though you have a relationship with this person, even if you haven't communicated in years. For months afterward, Sally's life is far more prominent than your actual relationship would indicate. She's a \"local maximum\": Though there are people whose posts you're far more interested in, it's her posts that you see.\n\nIn part, this feedback effect is due to what early Facebook employee and venture capitalist Matt Cohler calls the local-maximum problem. Cohler was an early employee at Facebook, and he's widely considered one of Silicon Valley's smartest thinkers on the social Web.\n\nThe local-maximum problem, he explains to me, shows up any time you're trying to optimize something. Say you're trying to write a simple set of instructions to help a blind person who's lost in the Sierra Nevadas find his way to the highest peak. \"Feel around you to see if you're surrounded by downward-sloping land,\" you say. \"If you're not, move in a direction that's higher, and repeat.\"\n\nProgrammers face problems like this all the time. What link is the best result for the search term \"fish\"? Which picture can Facebook show you to increase the likelihood that you'll start a photo-surfing binge? The directions sound pretty obvious\u2014you just tweak and tune in one direction or another until you're in the sweet spot. But there's a problem with these hill-climbing instructions: They're as likely to end you up in the foothills\u2014the local maximum\u2014as they are to guide you to the apex of Mount Whitney.\n\nThis isn't exactly harmful, but in the filter bubble, the same phenomenon can happen with any person or topic. I find it hard not to click on articles about gadgets, though I don't actually think they're that important. Personalized filters play to the most compulsive parts of you, creating \"compulsive media\" to get you to click things more. The technology mostly can't distinguish compulsion from general interest\u2014and if you're generating page views that can be sold to advertisers, it might not care.\n\nThe faster the system learns from you, the more likely it is that you can get trapped in a kind of identity cascade, in which a small initial action\u2014clicking on a link about gardening or anarchy or Ozzy Osbourne\u2014indicates that you're a person who likes those kinds of things. This in turn supplies you with more information on the topic, which you're more inclined to click on because the topic has now been primed for you.\n\nEspecially once the second click has occurred, your brain is in on the act as well. Our brains act to reduce cognitive dissonance in a strange but compelling kind of unlogic\u2014\"Why would I have done _x_ if I weren't a person who does _x_ \u2014therefore I must be a person who does _x._ \"Each click you take in this loop is another action to self-justify\u2014\"Boy, I guess I just really love 'Crazy Train.' \" When you use a recursive process that feeds on itself, Cohler tells me, \"You're going to end up down a deep and narrow path.\" The reverb drowns out the tune. If identity loops aren't counteracted through randomness and serendipity, you could end up stuck in the foothills of your identity, far away from the high peaks in the distance.\n\nAnd that's when these loops are relatively benign. Sometimes they're not.\n\nWe know what happens when teachers think students are dumb: They get dumber. In an experiment done before the advent of ethics boards, teachers were given test results that supposedly indicated the IQ and aptitude of students entering their classes. They weren't told, however, that the results had been randomly redistributed among students. After a year, the students who the teachers had been told were bright made big gains in IQ. The students who the teachers had been told were below average had no such improvement.\n\nSo what happens when the Internet thinks you're dumb? Personalization based on perceived IQ isn't such a far-fetched scenario\u2014Google Docs even offers a helpful tool for automatically checking the grade-level of written text. If your education level isn't already available through a tool like Acxiom, it's easy enough for anyone with access to a few e-mails or Facebook posts to infer. Users whose writing indicates college-level literacy might see more articles from the _New Yorker;_ users with only basic writing skills might see more from the _New York Post._\n\nIn a broadcast world, everyone is expected to read or process information at about the same level. In the filter bubble, there's no need for that expectation. On one hand, this could be great\u2014vast groups of people who have given up on reading because the newspaper goes over their heads may finally connect with written content. But without pressure to improve, it's also possible to get stuck in a grade-three world for a long time.\n\n#  **Incidents and Adventures**\n\nIn some cases, letting algorithms make decisions about what we see and what opportunities we're offered gives us fairer results. A computer can be made blind to race and gender in ways that humans usually can't. But that's only if the relevant algorithms are designed with care and acuteness. Otherwise, they're likely to simply reflect the social mores of the culture they're processing\u2014a regression to the social norm.\n\nIn some cases, algorithmic sorting based on personal data can be even _more_ discriminatory than people would be. For example, software that helps companies sift through r\u00e9sum\u00e9s for talent might \"learn\" by looking at which of its recommended employees are actually hired. If nine white candidates in a row are chosen, it might determine that the company isn't interested in hiring black people and exclude them from future searches. \"In many ways,\" writes NYU sociologist Dalton Conley, \"such network-based categorizations are more insidious than the hackneyed groupings based on race, class, gender, religion, or any other demographic characteristic.\" Among programmers, this kind of error has a name. It's called _overfitting_.\n\nThe online movie rental Web site Netflix is powered by an algorithm called CineMatch. To start, it was pretty simple. If I had rented the first movie in the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy, let's say, Netflix could look up what other movies _Lord of the Rings_ watchers had rented. If many of them had rented _Star Wars,_ it'd be highly likely that I would want to rent it, too.\n\nThis technique is called kNN (k-nearest-neighbor), and using it CineMatch got pretty good at figuring out what movies people wanted to watch based on what movies they'd rented and how many stars (out of five) they'd given the movies they'd seen. By 2006, CineMatch could predict within one star how much a given user would like any movie from Netflix's vast hundred-thousand-film emporium. Already CineMatch was better at making recommendations than most humans. A human video clerk would never think to suggest _Silence of the Lambs_ to a fan of _The Wizard of Oz,_ but CineMatch knew people who liked one usually liked the other.\n\nBut Reed Hastings, Netflix's CEO, wasn't satisfied. \"Right now, we're driving the Model-T version of what's possible,\" he told a reporter in 2006. On October 2, 2006, an announcement went up on the Netflix Web site: \"We're interested, to the tune of $1 million.\" Netflix had posted an enormous swath of data\u2014reviews, rental records, and other information from its user database, scrubbed of anything that would obviously identify a specific user. And now the company was willing to give $1 million to the person or team who beat CineMatch by more than 10 percent. Like the longitude prize, the Netflix Challenge was open to everyone. \"All you need is a PC and some great insight,\" Hastings declared in the _New York Times._\n\nAfter nine months, about eighteen thousand teams from more than 150 countries were competing, using ideas from machine learning, neural networks, collaborative filtering, and data mining. Usually, contestants in high-stakes contests operate in secret. But Netflix encouraged the competing groups to communicate with one another and built a message board where they could coordinate around common obstacles. Read through the message board, and you get a visceral sense of the challenges that bedeviled the contestants during the three-year quest for a better algorithm. Overfitting comes up again and again.\n\nThere are two challenges in building pattern-finding algorithms. One is finding the patterns that are there in all the noise. The other problem is the opposite: _not_ finding patterns in the data that aren't actually really there. The pattern that describes \"1, 2, 3\" could be \"add one to the previous number\" or \"list positive prime numbers from smallest to biggest.\" You don't know for sure until you get more data. And if you leap to conclusions, you're overfitting.\n\nWhere movies are concerned, the dangers of overfitting are relatively small\u2014many analog movie watchers have been led to believe that because they liked _The Godfather_ and _The Godfather: Part II,_ they'll like _The Godfather: Part III._ But the overfitting problem gets to one of the central, irreducible problems of the filter bubble: Overfitting and stereotyping are synonyms.\n\nThe term _stereotyping_ (which in this sense comes from Walter Lippmann, incidentally) is often used to refer to malicious xenophobic patterns that aren't true\u2014\"people of this skin color are less intelligent\" is a classic example. But stereotypes and the negative consequences that flow from them aren't fair to specific people _even if_ they're generally pretty accurate.\n\nMarketers are already exploring the gray area between what can be predicted and what predictions are fair. According to Charlie Stryker, an old hand in the behavioral targeting industry who spoke at the Social Graph Symposium, the U.S. Army has had terrific success using social-graph data to recruit for the military\u2014after all, if six of your Facebook buddies have enlisted, it's likely that you would consider doing so too. Drawing inferences based on what people like you or people linked to you do is pretty good business. And it's not just the army. Banks are beginning to use social data to decide to whom to offer loans: If your friends don't pay on time, it's likely that you'll be a deadbeat too. \"A decision is going to be made on creditworthiness based on the creditworthiness of your friends,\" Stryker said. \"There are applications of this technology that can be very powerful,\" another social targeting entrepreneur told the _Wall Street Journal._ \"Who knows how far we'd take it?\"\n\nPart of what's troubling about this world is that companies aren't required to explain on what basis they're making these decisions. And as a result, you can get judged without knowing it and without being able to appeal. For example, LinkedIn, the social job-hunting site, offers a career trajectory prediction site; by comparing your r\u00e9sum\u00e9 to other peoples' who are in your field but further along, LinkedIn can forecast where you'll be in five years. Engineers at the company hope that soon it'll be able to pinpoint career choices that lead to better outcomes\u2014\"mid-level IT professionals like you who attended Wharton business school made $25,000\/year more than those who didn't.\" As a service to customers, it's pretty useful. But imagine if LinkedIn provided that data to corporate clients to help them weed out people who are forecast to be losers. Because that could happen entirely without your knowledge, you'd never get the chance to argue, to prove the prediction wrong, to have the benefit of the doubt.\n\nIf it seems unfair for banks to discriminate against you because your high school buddy is bad at paying his bills or because you like something that a lot of loan defaulters also like, well, it is. And it points to a basic problem with induction, the logical method by which algorithms use data to make predictions.\n\nPhilosophers have been wrestling with this problem since long before there were computers to induce with. While you can prove the truth of a mathematical proof by arguing it out from first principles, the philosopher David Hume pointed out in 1772 that reality doesn't work that way. As the investment clich\u00e9 has it, past performance is not indicative of future results.\n\nThis raises some big questions for science, which is at its core a method for using data to predict the future. Karl Popper, one of the preeminent philosophers of science, made it his life's mission to try to sort out the problem of induction, as it came to be known. While the optimistic thinkers of the late 1800s looked at the history of science and saw a journey toward truth, Popper preferred to focus on the wreckage along the side of the road\u2014the abundance of failed theories and ideas that were perfectly consistent with the scientific method and yet horribly wrong. After all, the Ptolemaic universe, with the earth in the center and the sun and planets revolving around it, survived an awful lot of mathematical scrutiny and scientific observation.\n\nPopper posed his problem in a slightly different way: Just because you've only ever seen white swans doesn't mean that all swans are white. What you have to look for is the black swan, the counterexample that proves the theory wrong. \"Falsifiability,\" Popper argued, was the key to the search for truth: The purpose of science, for Popper, was to advance the biggest claims for which one could not find any countervailing examples, any black swans. Underlying Popper's view was a deep humility about scientifically induced knowledge\u2014a sense that we're wrong as often as we're right, and we usually don't know when we are.\n\nIt's this humility that many algorithmic prediction methods fail to build in. Sure, they encounter people or behaviors that don't fit the mold from time to time, but these aberrations don't fundamentally compromise their algorithms. After all, the advertisers whose money drives these systems don't need the models to be perfect. They're most interested in hitting demographics, not complex human beings.\n\nWhen you model the weather and predict there's a 70 percent chance of rain, it doesn't affect the rain clouds. It either rains or it doesn't. But when you predict that because my friends are untrustworthy, there's a 70 percent chance that I'll default on my loan, there are consequences if you get me wrong. You're discriminating.\n\nThe best way to avoid overfitting, as Popper suggests, is to try to prove the model wrong and to build algorithms that give the benefit of the doubt. If Netflix shows me a romantic comedy and I like it, it'll show me another one and begin to think of me as a romantic-comedy lover. But if it wants to get a good picture of who I really am, it should be constantly testing the hypothesis by showing me _Blade Runner_ in an attempt to prove it wrong. Otherwise, I end up caught in a local maximum populated by Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts.\n\nThe statistical models that make up the filter bubble write off the outliers. But in human life it's the outliers who make things interesting and give us inspiration. And it's the outliers who are the first signs of change.\n\nOne of the best critiques of algorithmic prediction comes, remarkably, from the late-nineteenth-century Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky, whose _Notes from Underground_ was a passionate critique of the utopian scientific rationalism of the day. Dostoyevsky looked at the regimented, ordered human life that science promised and predicted a banal future. \"All human actions,\" the novel's unnamed narrator grumbles, \"will then, of course, be tabulated according to these laws, mathematically, like tables of logarithms up to 108,000, and entered in an index ... in which everything will be so clearly calculated and explained that there will be no more incidents or adventures in the world.\"\n\nThe world often follows predictable rules and falls into predictable patterns: Tides rise and fall, eclipses approach and pass; even the weather is more and more predictable. But when this way of thinking is applied to human behavior, it can be dangerous, for the simple reason that our best moments are often the most unpredictable ones. An entirely predictable life isn't worth living. But algorithmic induction can lead to a kind of information determinism, in which our past clickstreams entirely decide our future. If we don't erase our Web histories, in other words, we may be doomed to repeat them.\n**5**\n\n**The Public Is Irrelevant**\n\nThe presence of others who see what we see and hear what we hear assures us of the reality of the world and ourselves.\n\n\u2014Hannah Arendt\n\nIt is an axiom of political science in the United  \nStates that the only way to neutralize the influence  \nof the newspapers is to multiply their number.\n\n\u2014Alexis de Tocqueville\n\n**O** n the night of May 7, 1999, a B-2 stealth bomber left Whiteman Air Force Base in Missouri. The aircraft flew on an easterly course until it reached the city of Belgrade in Serbia, where a civil war was under way. Around midnight local time, the bomber delivered its cargo: four GPSGUIDED bombs, into which had been programmed an address that CIA documents identified as a possible arms warehouse. In fact, the address was the Yugoslavian Chinese Embassy. The building was demolished, and three Chinese diplomats were killed.\n\nThe United States immediately apologized, calling the event an accident. On Chinese state TV, however, an official statement called the bombing a \"barbaric attack and a gross violation of Chinese sovereignty.\" Though President Bill Clinton tried to reach Chinese President Jiang Zemin, Zemin repeatedly rejected his calls; Clinton's videotaped apology to the Chinese people was barred from Chinese media for four days.\n\nAs anti-U.S. riots began to break out in the streets, China's largest newspaper, the _People's Daily_ , created an online chat forum called the Anti-Bombing Forum. Already, in 1999, chat forums were huge in China\u2014much larger than they've ever been in the United States. As _New York Times_ journalist Tom Downey explained a few years later, \"News sites and individual blogs aren't nearly as influential in China, and social networking hasn't really taken off. What remain most vital are the largely anonymous online forums ... that are much more participatory, dynamic, populist and perhaps even democratic than anything on the English-language Internet.\" Tech writer Clive Thompson quotes Shanthi Kalathil, a researcher at the Carnegie Endowment, who says that the Anti-Bombing Forum helped to legitimize the Chinese government's position that the bombing was deliberate among \"an elite, wired section of the population.\" The forum was a form of crowd-sourced propaganda: Rather than just telling Chinese citizens what to think, it lifted the voices of thousands of patriots aligned with the state.\n\nMost of the Western reporting on Chinese information management focuses on censorship: Google's choice to remove, temporarily, search results for \"Tiananmen Square,\" or Microsoft's decision to ban the word \"democracy\" from Chinese blog posts, or the Great Firewall that sits between China and the outside world and sifts through every packet of information that enters or exits the country. Censorship in China is real: There are plenty of words that have been more or less stricken from the public discourse. When Thompson asks whether the popular Alibaba engine would show results for dissident movements, CEO Jack Ma shook his head. \"No! We are a business!\" he said. \"Shareholders want to make money. Shareholders want us to make the customer happy. Meanwhile we do not have any responsibilities saying we should do this or that political thing.\"\n\nIn practice, the firewall is not so hard to circumvent. Corporate virtual private networks\u2014Internet connections encrypted to prevent espionage\u2014operate with impunity. Proxies and firewall workarounds like Tor connect in-country Chinese dissidents with even the most hard-core antigovernment Web sites. But to focus exclusively on the firewall's inability to perfectly block information is to miss the point. China's objective isn't so much to blot out unsavory information as to alter the physics around it\u2014to create friction for problematic information and to route public attention to progovernment forums. While it can't block all of the people from all of the news all of the time, it doesn't need to.\n\n\"What the government cares about,\" _Atlantic_ journalist James Fallows writes, \"is making the quest for information just enough of a nuisance that people generally won't bother.\" The strategy, says Xiao Qiang of the University of California at Berkeley, is \"about social control, human surveillance, peer pressure, and self-censorship.\" Because there's no official list of blocked keywords or forbidden topics published by the government, businesses and individuals censor themselves to avoid a visit from the police. Which sites are available changes daily. And while some bloggers suggest that the system's unreliability is a result of faulty technology (\"the Internet will override attempts to control it!\"), for the government this is a feature, not a bug. James Mulvenon, the head of the Center for Intelligence Research and Analysis, puts it this way: \"There's a randomness to their enforcement, and that creates a sense that they're looking at everything.\"\n\nLest that sensation be too subtle, the Public Security Bureau in Shenzhen, China, developed a more direct approach: Jingjing and Chacha, the cartoon Internet Police. As the director of the initiative told the _China Digital Times,_ he wanted \"to let all Internet users know that the Internet is not a place beyond law [and that] the Internet Police will maintain order in all online behavior.\" Icons of the male-female pair, complete with jaunty flying epaulets and smart black shoes, were placed on all major Web sites in Shenzhen; they even had instant-message addresses so that six police officers could field questions from the online crowds.\n\n\"People are actually quite free to talk about [democracy],\" Google's China point man, Kai-Fu Lee, told Thompson in 2006. \"I don't think they care that much. Hey, U.S. democracy, that's a good form of government. Chinese government, good and stable, that's a good form of government. Whatever, as long as I get to go to my favorite Web site, see my friends, live happily.\" It may not be a coincidence that the Great Firewall stopped blocking pornography recently. \"Maybe they are thinking that if Internet users have some porn to look at, then they won't pay so much attention to political matters,\" Michael Anti, a Beijing-based analyst, told the AP.\n\nWe usually think about censorship as a process by which governments alter facts and content. When the Internet came along, many hoped it would eliminate censorship altogether\u2014the flow of information would simply be too swift and strong for governments to control. \"There's no question China has been trying to crack down on the Internet,\" Bill Clinton told the audience at a March 2000 speech at Johns Hopkins University. \"Good luck! That's sort of like trying to nail Jell-O to the wall.\"\n\nBut in the age of the Internet, it's still possible for governments to manipulate the truth. The process has just taken a different shape: Rather than simply banning certain words or opinions outright, it'll increasingly revolve around second-order censorship\u2014the manipulation of curation, context, and the flow of information and attention. And because the filter bubble is primarily controlled by a few centralized companies, it's not as difficult to adjust this flow on an individual-by-individual basis as you might think. Rather than decentralizing power, as its early proponents predicted, in some ways the Internet is concentrating it.\n\n#  **Lords of the Cloud**\n\nTo get a sense of how personalization might be used for political ends, I talked to a man named John Rendon.\n\nRendon affably describes himself as an \"information warrior and perception manager.\" From the Rendon Group's headquarters in Washington, D.C.'s, Dupont Circle, he provides those services to dozens of U.S. agencies and foreign governments. When American troops rolled into Kuwait City during the first Iraq war, television cameras captured hundreds of Kuwaitis joyfully waving American flags. \"Did you ever stop to wonder,\" he asked an audience later, \"how the people of Kuwait City, after being held hostage for seven long and painful months, were able to get handheld American flags? And for that matter, the flags of other coalition countries? Well, you now know the answer. That was one of my jobs.\"\n\nMuch of Rendon's work is confidential\u2014he enjoys a level of beyond\u2013Top Secret clearance that even high-level intelligence analysts sometimes fail to get. His role in George W. Bush\u2013era pro-U.S. propaganda in Iraq is unclear: While some sources claim he was a central figure in the effort, Rendon denies any involvement. But his dream is quite clear: Rendon wants to see a world where television \"can drive the policy process,\" where \"border patrols [are] replaced by beaming patrols,\" and where \"you can win without fighting.\"\n\nGiven all that, I was a bit surprised when the first weapon he referred me to was a very quotidian one: a thesaurus. The key to changing public opinion, Rendon said, is finding different ways to say the same thing. He described a matrix, with extreme language or opinion on one side and mild opinion on the other. By using sentiment analysis to figure out how people in a country felt about an event\u2014say, a new arms deal with the United States\u2014and identify the right synonyms to move them toward approval, you could \"gradually nudge a debate.\" \"It's a lot easier to be close to what reality is\" and push it in the right direction, he said, than to make up a new reality entirely.\n\nRendon had seen me talk about personalization at an event we both attended. Filter bubbles, he told me, provided new ways of managing perceptions. \"It begins with getting inside the algorithm. If you could find a way to load your content up so that only your content gets pulled by the stalking algorithm, then you'd have a better chance of shaping belief sets,\" he said. In fact, he suggested, if we looked in the right places, we might be able to see traces of this kind of thing happening now\u2014sentiment being algorithmically shifted over time.\n\nBut if the filter bubble might make shifting perspectives easier in a future Iraq or Panama, Rendon was clearly concerned about the impact of self-sorting and personalized filtering for democracy at home. \"If I'm taking a photo of a tree,\" he said, \"I need to know what season we're in. Every season it looks different. It could be dying, or just losing its leaves in autumn.\" To make good decisions, context is crucial\u2014that's why the military is so focused on what they call \"360-degree situational awareness.\" In the filter bubble, you don't get 360 degrees\u2014and you might not get more than one.\n\nI returned to the question about using algorithms to shift sentiment. \"How does someone game the system when it's all about self-generated, self-reinforcing information flows? I have to think about it more,\" Rendon said, \"But I think I know how I'd do it.\"\n\n\"How?\" I asked.\n\nHe paused, then chuckled: \"Nice try.\" He'd already said too much.\n\nThe campaign of propaganda that Walter Lippmann railed against in World War I was a massive undertaking: To \"goose-step the truth,\" hundreds of newspapers nationwide had to be brought onboard. Now that every blogger is a publisher, the task seems nearly impossible. In 2010, Google chief Eric Schmidt echoed this sentiment, arguing in the journal _Foreign Affairs_ that the Internet eclipses intermediaries and governments and empowers individuals to \"consume, distribute, and create their own content without government control.\"\n\nIt's a convenient view for Google\u2014if intermediaries are losing power, then the company's merely a minor player in a much larger drama. But in practice, a great majority of online content reaches people through a small number of Web sites\u2014Google foremost among them. These big companies represent new loci of power. And while their multinational character makes them resistant to some forms of regulation, they can also offer one-stop shopping for governments seeking to influence information flows.\n\nAs long as a database exists, it's potentially accessible by the state. That's why gun rights activists talk a lot about Alfred Flatow. Flatow was an Olympic gymnast and German Jew who in 1932 registered his gun in accordance with the laws of the waning Weimar Republic. In 1938, German police came to his door. They'd searched through the record, and in preparation for the Holocaust, they were rounding up Jews with handguns. Flatow was killed in a concentration camp in 1942.\n\nFor National Rifle Association members, the story is a powerful cautionary tale about the dangers of a national gun registry. As a result of Flatow's story and thousands like it, the NRA has successfully blocked a national gun registry for decades. If a fascistic anti-Semitic regime came into power in the United States, it'd be hard put to identify gun-holding Jews using its own databases.\n\nBut the NRA's focus may have been too narrow. Fascists aren't known for carefully following the letter of the law regarding extragovernmental databases. And using the data that credit card companies use\u2014or for that matter, building models based on the thousands of data points Acxiom tracks\u2014it'd be a simple matter to predict with significant accuracy who has a gun and who does not.\n\nEven if you aren't a gun advocate, the story is worth paying attention to. The dynamics of personalization shift power into the hands of a few major corporate actors. And this consolidation of huge masses of data offers governments (even democratic ones) more potential power than ever.\n\nRather than housing their Web sites and databases internally, many businesses and start-ups now run on virtual computers in vast server farms managed by other companies. The enormous pool of computing power and storage these networked machines create is known as the _cloud,_ and it allows clients much greater flexibility. If your business runs in the cloud, you don't need to buy more hardware when your processing demands expand: You just rent a greater portion of the cloud. Amazon Web Services, one of the major players in the space, hosts thousands of Web sites and Web servers and undoubtedly stores the personal data of millions. On one hand, the cloud gives every kid in his or her basement access to nearly unlimited computing power to quickly scale up a new online service. On the other, as Clive Thompson pointed out to me, the cloud \"is actually just a handful of companies.\" When Amazon booted the activist Web site WikiLeaks off its servers under political pressure in 2010, the site immediately collapsed\u2014there was nowhere to go.\n\nPersonal data stored in the cloud is also actually much easier for the government to search than information on a home computer. The FBI needs a warrant from a judge to search your laptop. But if you use Yahoo or Gmail or Hotmail for your e-mail, you \"lose your constitutional protections immediately,\" according to a lawyer for the Electronic Freedom Foundation. The FBI can just ask the company for the information\u2014no judicial paperwork needed, no permission required\u2014as long as it can argue later that it's part of an \"emergency.\" \"The cops will love this,\" says privacy advocate Robert Gellman about cloud computing. \"They can go to a single place and get everybody's documents.\"\n\nBecause of the economies of scale in data, the cloud giants are increasingly powerful. And because they're so susceptible to regulation, these companies have a vested interest in keeping government entities happy. When the Justice Department requested billions of search records from AOL, Yahoo, and MSN in 2006, the three companies quickly complied. (Google, to its credit, opted to fight the request.) Stephen Arnold, an IT expert who worked at consulting firm Booz Allen Hamilton, says that Google at one point housed three officers of \"an unnamed intelligence agency\" at its headquarters in Mountain View. And Google and the CIA have invested together in a firm called Recorded Future, which focuses on using data connections to predict future real-world events.\n\nEven if the consolidation of this data-power doesn't result in more governmental control, it's worrisome on its own terms.\n\nOne of the defining traits of the new personal information environment is that it's asymmetrical. As Jonathan Zittrain argues in _The Future of the Internet\u2014and How to Stop It,_ \"nowadays, an individual must increasingly give information about himself to large and relatively faceless institutions, for handling and use by strangers\u2014unknown, unseen, and all too frequently, unresponsive.\"\n\nIn a small town or an apartment building with paper-thin walls, what I know about you is roughly the same as what you know about me. That's a basis for a social contract, in which we'll deliberately ignore some of what we know. The new privacyless world does away with that contract. I can know a lot about you without your knowing I know. \"There's an implicit bargain in our behavior,\" search expert John Battelle told me, \"that we haven't done the math on.\"\n\nIf Sir Francis Bacon is right that \"knowledge is power,\" privacy proponent Viktor Mayer-Schonberger writes that what we're witnessing now is nothing less than a \"redistribution of information power from the powerless to the powerful.\" It'd be one thing if we all knew everything about each other. It's another when centralized entities know a lot more about us than we know about each other\u2014and sometimes, more than we know about ourselves. If knowledge is power, then asymmetries in knowledge are asymmetries in power.\n\nGoogle's famous \"Don't be evil\" motto is presumably intended to allay some of these concerns. I once explained to a Google search engineer that while I didn't think the company was currently evil, it seemed to have at its fingertips everything it needed to do evil if it wished. He smiled broadly. \"Right,\" he said. \"We're not evil. We try really hard not to be evil. But if we wanted to, man, could we ever!\"\n\n#  **Friendly World Syndrome**\n\nMost governments and corporations have used the new power that personal data and personalization offer fairly cautiously so far\u2014China, Iran, and other oppressive regimes being the obvious exceptions. But even putting aside intentional manipulation, the rise of filtering has a number of unintended yet serious consequences for democracies. In the filter bubble, the public sphere\u2014the realm in which common problems are identified and addressed\u2014is just less relevant.\n\nFor one thing, there's the problem of the friendly world. Communications researcher George Gerbner was one of the first theorists to look into how media affect our political beliefs, and in the mid-1970s, he spent a lot of time thinking about shows like _Starsky and Hutch_. It was a pretty silly program, filled with the shared clich\u00e9s of seventies cop TV\u2014the bushy moustaches, the twanging soundtracks, the simplistic goodversus-evil plots. And it was hardly the only one\u2014for every _Charlie's Angels_ or _Hawaii Five-O_ that earned a place in cultural memory, there are dozens of shows, like _The Rockford Files, Get Christie Love,_ and _Adam-12,_ that are unlikely to be resuscitated for ironic twenty-first-century remakes.\n\nBut Gerbner, a World War II veteran\u2013turned\u2013communications theorist who became dean of the Annenberg School of Communication, took these shows seriously. Starting in 1969, he began a systematic study of the way TV programming affects how we think about the world. As it turned out, the _Starsky and Hutch_ effect was significant. When you asked TV watchers to estimate the percentage of the adult workforce that was made up of cops, they vastly overguessed relative to non\u2013TV watchers with the same education and demographic background. Even more troubling, kids who saw a lot of TV violence were much more likely to be worried about real-world violence.\n\nGerbner called this the mean world syndrome: If you grow up in a home where there's more than, say, three hours of television per day, for all practical purposes, you live in a meaner world\u2014and act accordingly\u2014than your next-door neighbor who lives in the same place but watches less television. \"You know, who tells the stories of a culture really governs human behavior,\" Gerbner later said.\n\nGerbner died in 2005, but he lived long enough to see the Internet begin to break that stranglehold. It must have been a relief: Although our online cultural storytellers are still quite consolidated, the Internet at least offers more choice. If you want to get your local news from a blogger rather than a local TV station that trumpets crime rates to get ratings, you can.\n\nBut if the mean world syndrome poses less of a risk these days, there's a new problem on the horizon: We may now face what persuasion-profiling theorist Dean Eckles calls a friendly world syndrome, in which some of the biggest and most important problems fail to reach our view at all.\n\nWhile the mean world on television arises from a cynical \"if it bleeds, it leads\" approach to programming, the friendly world generated by algorithmic filtering may not be as intentional. According to Facebook engineer Andrew Bosworth, the team that developed the Like button originally considered a number of options\u2014from stars to a thumbs up sign (but in Iran and Thailand, it's an obscene gesture). For a month in the summer of 2007, the button was known as the Awesome button. Eventually, however, the Facebook team gravitated toward Like, which is more universal.\n\nThat Facebook chose Like instead of, say, Important is a small design decision with far-reaching consequences: The stories that get the most attention on Facebook are the stories that get the most Likes, and the stories that get the most Likes are, well, more likable.\n\nFacebook is hardly the only filtering service that will tend toward an antiseptically friendly world. As Eckles pointed out to me, even Twitter, which has a reputation for putting filtering in the hands of its users, has this tendency. Twitter users see most of the tweets of the folks they follow, but if my friend is having an exchange with someone I don't follow, it doesn't show up. The intent is entirely innocuous: Twitter is trying not to inundate me with conversations I'm not interested in. But the result is that conversations between my friends (who will tend to be like me) are overrepresented, while conversations that could introduce me to new ideas are obscured.\n\nOf course, _friendly_ doesn't describe all of the stories that pierce the filter bubble and shape our sense of the political world. As a progressive political news junkie, I get plenty of news about Sarah Palin and Glenn Beck. The valence of this news, however, is very predictable: People are posting it to signal their dismay with Beck's and Palin's rhetoric and to build a sense of solidarity with their friends, who presumably feel the same way. It's rare that my assumptions about the world are shaken by what I see in my news feed.\n\nEmotional stories are the ones that generally thrive in the filter bubble. The Wharton School study on the _New York Times_ 's Most Forwarded List, discussed in chapter 2, found that stories that aroused strong feelings\u2014awe, anxiety, anger, happiness\u2014were much more likely to be shared. If television gives us a \"mean world,\" filter bubbles give us an \"emotional world.\"\n\nOne of the troubling side effects of the friendly world syndrome is that some important public problems will disappear. Few people seek out information about homelessness, or share it, for that matter. In general, dry, complex, slow-moving problems\u2014a lot of the truly significant issues\u2014won't make the cut. And while we used to rely on human editors to spotlight these crucial problems, their influence is now waning.\n\nEven advertising isn't necessarily a foolproof way of alerting people to public problems, as the environmental group Oceana found out. In 2004, Oceana was running a campaign urging Royal Caribbean to stop dumping its raw sewage into the sea; as part of the campaign, it took out a Google ad that said \"Help us protect the world's oceans. Join the fight!\" After two days, Google pulled the ads, citing \"language advocating against the cruise line industry\" that was in violation of their general guidelines about taste. Apparently, advertisers that implicated corporations in public issues weren't welcome.\n\nThe filter bubble will often block out the things in our society that are important but complex or unpleasant. It renders them invisible. And it's not just the issues that disappear. Increasingly, it's the whole political process.\n\n#  **The Invisible Campaign**\n\nWhen George W. Bush came out of the 2000 election with far fewer votes than Karl Rove expected, Rove set in motion a series of experiments in microtargeted media in Georgia\u2014looking at a wide range of consumer data (\"Do you prefer beer or wine?\") to try to predict voting behavior and identify who was persuadable and who could be easily motivated to get to the polls. Though the findings are still secret, legend has it that the methods Rove discovered were at the heart of the GOP's successful get-out-the-vote strategy in 2002 and 2004.\n\nOn the left, Catalist, a firm staffed by former Amazon engineers, has built a database of hundreds of millions of voter profiles. For a fee, organizing and activist groups (including MoveOn) query it to help determine which doors to knock on and to whom to run ads. And that's just the start. In a memo for fellow progressives, Mark Steitz, one of the primary Democratic data gurus, recently wrote that \"targeting too often returns to a bombing metaphor\u2014dropping message from planes. Yet the best data tools help build relationships based on observed contacts with people. Someone at the door finds out someone is interested in education; we get back to that person and others like him or her with more information. Amazon's recommendation engine is the direction we need to head.\" The trend is clear: We're moving from swing states to swing people.\n\nConsider this scenario: It's 2016, and the race is on for the presidency of the United States. Or is it?\n\nIt depends on who you are, really. If the data says you vote frequently and that you may have been a swing voter in the past, the race is a maelstrom. You're besieged with ads, calls, and invitations from friends. If you vote intermittently, you get a lot of encouragement to get out to the polls.\n\nBut let's say you're more like an average American. You usually vote for candidates from one party. To the data crunchers from the opposing party, you don't look particularly persuadable. And because you vote in presidential elections pretty regularly, you're also not a target for \"get out the vote\" calls from your own. Though you make it to the polls as a matter of civic duty, you're not that actively interested in politics. You're more interested in, say, soccer and robots and curing cancer and what's going on in the town where you live. Your personalized news feeds reflect those interests, not the news from the latest campaign stop.\n\nIn a filtered world, with candidates microtargeting the few persuadables, would you know that the campaign was happening at all?\n\nEven if you visit a site that aims to cover the race for a general audience, it'll be difficult to tell what's going on. What is the campaign about? There is no general, top-line message, because the candidates aren't appealing to a general public. Instead, there are a series of message fragments designed to penetrate personalized filters.\n\nGoogle is preparing for this future. Even in 2010, it staffed a round-the-clock \"war room\" for political advertising, aiming to be able to quickly sign off on and activate new ads even in the wee hours of October nights. Yahoo is conducting a series of experiments to determine how to match the publicly available list of who voted in each district with the click signals and Web history data it picks up on its site. And data-aggregation firms like Rapleaf in San Francisco are trying to correlate Facebook social graph information with voting behavior\u2014so that they can show you the political ad that best works for you based on the responses of your friends.\n\nThe impulse to talk to voters about the things they're actually interested in isn't a bad one\u2014it'd be great if mere mention of the word _politics_ didn't cause so many eyes to glaze over. And certainly the Internet has unleashed the coordinated energy of a whole new generation of activists\u2014it's easier than ever to find people who share your political passions. But while it's easier than ever to bring a group of people together, as personalization advances it'll become harder for any given group to reach a broad audience. In some ways, personalization poses a threat to public life itself.\n\nBecause the state of the art in political advertising is half a decade behind the state of the art in commercial advertising, most of this change is still to come. But for starters, filter-bubble politics could effectively make even more of us into single issue voters. Like personalized media, personalized advertising is a two-way street: I may see an ad about, say, preserving the environment because I drive a Prius, but seeing the ad also makes me care more about preserving the environment. And if a congressional campaign can determine that this is the issue on which it's most likely to persuade me, why bother filling me in on all of the other issues?\n\nIn theory, market dynamics will continue to encourage campaigns to reach out to nonvoters. But an additional complication is that more and more companies are also allowing users to remove advertisements they don't like. For Facebook and Google, after all, seeing ads for ideas or services you don't like is a failure. Because people tend to dislike ads containing messages they disagree with, this creates even less space for persuasion. \"If a certain number of anti-Mitt Republicans saw an ad for Mitt Romney and clicked 'offensive, etc.,' \" writes Vincent Harris, a Republican political consultant, \"they could block ALL of Mitt Romney's ads from being shown, and kill the entire online advertising campaign regardless of how much money the Romney campaign wanted to spend on Facebook.\" Forcing candidates to come up with more palatable ways to make their points might result in more thoughtful ads\u2014but it also might also drive up the cost of these ads, making it too costly for campaigns to ever engage the other side.\n\nThe most serious political problem posed by filter bubbles is that they make it increasingly difficult to have a public argument. As the number of different segments and messages increases, it becomes harder and harder for the campaigns to track who's saying what to whom. TV is a piece of cake to monitor in comparison\u2014you can just record the opposition's ads in each cable district. But how does a campaign know what its opponent is saying if ads are only targeted to white Jewish men between twenty-eight and thirty-four who have expressed a fondness for U2 on Facebook and who donated to Barack Obama's campaign?\n\nWhen a conservative political group called Americans for Job Security ran ads in 2010 falsely accusing Representative Pete Hoekstra of refusing to sign a no-new-taxes pledge, he was able to show TV stations the signed pledge and have the ads pulled off the air. It's not great to have TV station owners be the sole arbitrators of truth\u2014I've spent a fair amount of time arguing with them myself\u2014but it is better to have some bar for truthfulness than none at all. It's unclear that companies like Google have the resources or the interest to play truthfulness referee on the hundreds of thousands of different ads that will run in election cycles to come.\n\nAs personal political targeting increases, not only will it be more difficult for campaigns to respond to and fact-check each other, it'll be more challenging for journalists as well. We may see an environment where the most important ads aren't easily accessible to journalists and bloggers\u2014it's easy enough for campaigns to exclude them from their targeting and difficult for reporters to fabricate the profile of a genuine swing voter. (One simple solution to this problem would simply be to require campaigns to immediately disclose all of their online advertising materials and to whom each ad is targeted. Right now, the former is spotty and the latter is undisclosed.)\n\nIt's not that political TV ads are so great. For the most part, they're shrill, unpleasant, and unlikable. If we could, most of us would tune them out. But in the broadcast era, they did at least three useful things. They reminded people that there was an election in the first place. They established for everyone what the candidates valued, what their campaigns were about, what their arguments were: the parameters of the debate. And they provided a basis for a common conversation about the political decision we faced\u2014something you could talk about in the line at the supermarket.\n\nFor all of their faults, political campaigns are one of the primary places where we debate our ideas about our nation. Does America condone torture? Are we a nation of social Darwinists or of social welfare? Who are our heroes, and who are our villains? In the broadcast era, campaigns have helped to delineate the answers to those questions. But they may not do so for very much longer.\n\n#  **Fragmentation**\n\nThe aim of modern political marketing, consumer trends expert J. Walker Smith tells Bill Bishop in _The Big Sort,_ is to \"drive customer loyalty\u2014and in marketing terms, drive the average transaction size or improve the likelihood that a registered Republican will get out and vote Republican. That's a business philosophy applied to politics that I think is really dangerous, because it's not about trying to form a consensus, to get people to think about the greater good.\"\n\nIn part, this approach to politics is on the rise for the same reason the filter bubble is: Personalized outreach gives better bang for the political buck. But it's also a natural outcome of a well-documented shift in how people in industrialized countries think about what's important. When people don't have to worry about having their basic needs met, they care a lot more about having products and leaders that represent who they are.\n\nProfessor Ron Inglehart calls this trend postmaterialism, and it's a result of the basic premise, he writes, that \"you place the greatest subjective value on the things in short supply.\" In surveys spanning forty years and eighty countries, people who were raised in affluence\u2014who never had to worry about their physical survival\u2014behaved in ways strikingly different from those of their hungry parents. \"We can even specify,\" Inglehart writes in _Modernization and Postmodernization,_ \"with far better than random success, what issues are likely to be most salient in the politics of the respective types of societies.\"\n\nWhile there are still significant differences from country to country, postmaterialists share some important traits. They're less reverent about authority and traditional institutions\u2014the appeal of authoritarian strongmen appears to be connected to a basic fear for survival. They're more tolerant of difference: One especially striking chart shows a strong correlation between level of life satisfaction and comfort with living next door to someone who's gay. And while earlier generations emphasize financial achievement and order, postmaterialists value self-expression and \"being yourself.\"\n\nSomewhat confusingly, postmaterialism doesn't mean anticonsumption. Actually, the phenomenon is at the bedrock of our current consumer culture: Whereas we once bought things because we needed them to survive, now we mostly buy things as a means of self-expression. And the same dynamics hold for political leadership: Increasingly, voters evaluate candidates on whether they represent an aspirational version of themselves.\n\nThe result is what marketers call brand fragmentation. When brands were primarily about validating the quality of a product\u2014\"Dove soap is pure and made of the best ingredients\"\u2014advertisements focused more on the basic value proposition. But when brands became vehicles for expressing identity, they needed to speak more intimately to different groups of people with divergent identities they wanted express. And as a result, they started to splinter. Which is why what's happened to Pabst Blue Ribbon beer is a good way of understanding the challenges faced by Barack Obama.\n\nIn the early 2000s, Pabst was struggling financially. It had maxed out among the white rural population that formed the core of its customer base, and it was selling less than 1 million barrels of beer a year, down from 20 million in 1970. If Pabst wanted to sell more beer, it had to look elsewhere, and Neal Stewart, a midlevel marketing manager, did. Stewart went to Postland, Oregon, where Pabst numbers were surprisingly strong and an ironic nostalgia for white working-class culture (remember trucker hats?) was widespread. If Pabst couldn't get people to drink its watery brew sincerely, Stewart figured, maybe they could get people to drink it ironically. Pabst began to sponsor hipster events\u2014gallery openings, bike messenger races, snowboarding competitions, and the like. Within a year, sales were way up\u2014which is why, if you walk into a bar in certain Brooklyn neighborhoods, Pabst is more likely to be available than other low-end American beers.\n\nThat's not the only excursion in reinvention that Pabst did. In China, where it is branded a \"world-famous spirit,\" Pabst has made itself into a luxury beverage for the cosmopolitan elite. Advertisements compare it to \"Scotch whisky, French brandy, Bordeaux wine,\" and present it in a fluted champagne glass atop a wooden cask. A bottle runs about $44 in U.S. currency.\n\nWhat's interesting about the Pabst story is that it's not rebranding of the typical sort, in which a product aimed at one group is \"repositioned\" to appeal to another. Plenty of white working-class men still drink Pabst sincerely, an affirmation of down-home culture. Urban hipsters drink it with a wink. And wealthy Chinese yuppies drink it as a champagne substitute and a signifier of conspicuous consumption. The same beverage means very different things to different people.\n\nDriven by the centrifugal pull of different market segments\u2014each of which wants products that represent its identity\u2014political leadership is fragmenting in much the same way as PBR. Much has been made of Barack Obama's chameleonic political style. \"I serve as a blank screen,\" he wrote in _The Audacity of Hope_ in 2006, \"on which people of vastly different political stripes project their own views.\" Part of that is a result of Obama's intrinsic political versatility. But it's also a plus in an age of fragmentation.\n\n(To be sure, the Internet can also facilitate consolidation, as Obama learned when his comment about people \"clinging to guns and religion\" to donors in San Francisco was reported by the _Huffington Post_ and became a top campaign talking point against him. At the same time, Williamsburg hipsters who read the right blogs can learn about Pabst's Chinese marketing scheme. But while this makes fragmentation a more perilous process and cuts against authenticity, it doesn't fundamentally change the calculus. It just makes it more of an imperative to target well.)\n\nThe downside of this fragmentation, as Obama has learned, is that it is harder to lead. Acting different with different political constituencies isn't new\u2014in fact, it's probably about as old as politics itself. But the overlap\u2014content that remains constant between all of those constituencies\u2014is shrinking dramatically. You can stand for lots of different kinds of people or stand for something, but doing both is harder every day.\n\nPersonalization is both a cause and an effect of the brand fragmentation process. The filter bubble wouldn't be so appealing if it didn't play to our postmaterial desire to maximize self-expression. But once we're in it, the process of matching who we are to content streams can lead to the erosion of common experience, and it can stretch political leadership to the breaking point.\n\n#  **Discourse and Democracy**\n\nThe good news about postmaterial politics is that as countries become wealthier, they'll likely become more tolerant, and their citizens will be more self-expressive. But there's a dark side to it too. Ted Nordhaus, a student of Inglehart's who focuses on postmaterialism in the environmental movement, told me that \"the shadow that comes with postmaterialism is profound self-involvement.... We lose all perspective on the collective endeavors that have made the extraordinary lives we live possible.\" In a postmaterial world where your highest task is to express yourself, the public infrastructure that supports this kind of expression falls out of the picture. But while we can lose sight of our shared problems, they don't lose sight of us.\n\nA few times a year when I was growing up, the nine-hundred-person hamlet of Lincolnville, Maine, held a town meeting. This was my first impression of democracy: A few hundred residents crammed into the grade school auditorium or basement to discuss school additions, speed limits, zoning regulations, and hunting ordinances. In the aisle between the rows of gray metal folding chairs was a microphone on a stand, where people would line up to say their piece.\n\nIt was hardly a perfect system: Some speakers droned on; others were shouted down. But it gave all of us a sense of the kinds of people that made up our community that we wouldn't have gotten anywhere else. If the discussion was about encouraging more businesses along the coast, you'd hear from the wealthy summer vacationers who enjoyed their peace and quiet, the back-to-the-land hippies with antidevelopment sentiments, and the families who'd lived in rural poverty for generations and saw the influx as a way up and out. The conversation went back and forth, sometimes closing toward consensus, sometimes fragmenting into debate, but usually resulting in a decision about what to do next.\n\nI always liked how those town meetings worked. But it wasn't until I read _On Dialogue_ that I fully understood what they accomplished.\n\nBorn to Hungarian and Lithuanian Jewish furniture store owners in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, David Bohm came from humble roots. But when he arrived at the University of California\u2013Berkeley, he quickly fell in with a small group of theoretical physicists, under the direction of Robert Oppenheimer, who were racing to build the atomic bomb. By the time he died at seventy-two in October 1992, many of his colleagues would remember Bohm as one of the great physicists of the twentieth century.\n\nBut if quantum math was his vocation, there was another matter that took up much of Bohm's time. Bohm was preoccupied with the problems created by advanced civilization, especially the possibility of nuclear war. \"Technology keeps on advancing with greater and greater power, either for good or for destruction,\" he wrote. \"What is the source of all this trouble? I'm saying that the source is basically in thought.\" For Bohm, the solution became clear: It was dialogue. In 1992, one of his definitive texts on the subject was published.\n\nTo communicate, Bohm wrote, literally means to make something common. And while sometimes this process of making common involves simply sharing a piece of data with a group, more often it involves the group's coming together to create a new, common meaning. \"In dialogue,\" he writes, \"people are participants in a pool of common meaning.\"\n\nBohm wasn't the first theorist to see the democratic potential of dialogue. Jurgen Habermas, the dean of media theory for much of the twentieth century, had a similar view. For both, dialogue was special because it provided a way for a group of people to democratically create their culture and to calibrate their ideas in the world. In a way, you couldn't have a functioning democracy without it.\n\nBohm saw an additional reason why dialogue was useful: It provided people with a way of getting a sense of the whole shape of a complex system, even the parts that they didn't directly participate in. Our tendency, Bohm says, is to rip apart and fragment ideas and conversations into bits that have no relation to the whole. He used the example of a watch that has been shattered: Unlike the parts that made up the watch previously, the pieces have no relation to the watch as a whole. They're just little bits of glass and metal.\n\nIt's this quality that made the Lincolnville town meetings something special. Even if the group couldn't always agree on where to go, the process helped to develop a shared map for the terrain. The parts understood our relationship to the whole. And that, in turn, makes democratic governance possible.\n\nThe town meetings had another benefit: They equipped us to deal more handily with the problems that did emerge. In the science of social mapping, the definition of a community is a set of nodes that are densely interconnected\u2014my friends form a community if they all don't know just me but also have independent relationships with one another. Communication builds stronger community.\n\nUltimately, democracy works only if we citizens are capable of thinking beyond our narrow self-interest. But to do so, we need a shared view of the world we cohabit. We need to come into contact with other peoples' lives and needs and desires. The filter bubble pushes us in the opposite direction\u2014it creates the impression that our narrow self-interest is all that exists. And while this is great for getting people to shop online, it's not great for getting people to make better decisions together.\n\n\"The prime difficulty\" of democracy, John Dewey wrote, \"is that of discovering the means by which a scattered, mobile, and manifold public may so recognize itself as to define and express its interests.\" In the early days of the Internet, this was one of the medium's great hopes\u2014that it would finally offer a medium whereby whole towns\u2014and indeed countries\u2014could co-create their culture through discourse. Personalization has given us something very different: a public sphere sorted and manipulated by algorithms, fragmented by design, and hostile to dialogue.\n\nWhich begs an important question: Why would the engineers who designed these systems want to build them this way?\n**6**\n\n**Hello, World!**\n\nSOCRATES: Or again, in a ship, if a man having the power to do what he likes, has no intelligence or skill in navigation [\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c5\u03b2\u03b5\u03c1\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, _aret\u0113s kybern\u0113tik\u0113s_ ], do you see what will happen to him and to his fellow-sailors?\n\n\u2014 _Plato_ , _First Alcibiades_ , the earliest known use of the word _cybernetics_\n\n**I** t's the first fragment of code in the code book, the thing every aspiring programmer learns on day one. In the C++ programming language, it looks like this:\n\nvoid main()   \n{   \ncout << \"Hello, World!\" <<   \nendl;   \n}\n\nAlthough the code differs from language to language, the result is the same: a single line of text against a stark white screen:\n\n _Hello, World!_\n\nA god's greeting to his invention\u2014or perhaps an invention's greeting to its god. The delight you experience is electric\u2014the current of creation, running through your fingers into the keypad, into the machine, and back out into the world. _It's alive!_\n\nThat every programmer's career begins with \"Hello, World!\" is not a coincidence. It's the power to create new universes, which is what often draws people to code in the first place. Type in a few lines, or a few thousand, strike a key, and something seems to come to life on your screen\u2014a new space unfolds, a new engine roars. If you're clever enough, you can make and manipulate anything you can imagine.\n\n\"We are as Gods,\" wrote futurist Stewart Brand on the cover of his _Whole Earth Catalog_ in 1968, \"and we might as well get good at it.\" Brand's catalog, which sprang out of the back-to-the-land movement, was a favorite among California's emerging class of programmers and computer enthusiasts. In Brand's view, tools and technologies turned people, normally at the mercy of their environments, into gods in control of them. And the computer was a tool that could become any tool at all.\n\nBrand's impact on the culture of Silicon Valley and geekdom is hard to overestimate\u2014though he wasn't a programmer himself, his vision shaped the Silicon Valley worldview. As Fred Turner details in the fascinating _From Counterculture to Cyberculture,_ Brand and his cadre of do-it-yourself futurists were disaffected hippies\u2014social revolutionaries who were uncomfortable with the communes sprouting up in Haight-Ashbury. Rather than seeking to build a new world through political change, which required wading through the messiness of compromise and group decision making, they set out to build a world on their own.\n\nIn _Hackers,_ his groundbreaking history of the rise of engineering culture, Steve Levy points out that this ideal spread from the programmers themselves to the users \"each time some user flicked the machine on, and the screen came alive with words, thoughts, pictures, and sometimes elaborate worlds built out of air\u2014those computer programs which could make any man (or woman) a god.\" (In the era described by Levy's book, the term _hacker_ didn't have the transgressive, lawbreaking connotations it acquired later.)\n\nThe God impulse is at the root of many creative professions: Artists conjure up color-flecked landscapes, novelists build whole societies on paper. But it's always clear that these are creations: A painting doesn't talk back. A program can, and the illusion that it's \"real\" is powerful. Eliza, one of the first rudimentary AI programs, was programmed with a battery of therapistlike questions and some basic contextual cues. But students spent hours talking to it about their deepest problems: \"I'm having some troubles with my family,\" a student might write, and Eliza would immediately respond, \"Tell me more about your family.\"\n\nEspecially for people who've been socially ostracized due to quirks or brains or both, there are at least two strong draws to the world-building impulse. When social life is miserable or oppressive, escapism is a reasonable response\u2014it's probably not coincidental that role-playing games, sci-fi and fantasy literature, and programming often go together.\n\nThe infinitely expandable universe of code provides a second benefit: complete power over your domain. \"We all fantasize about living without rules,\" says Siva Vaidyanathan. \"We imagine the Adam Sandler movie where you can move around and take people's clothes off. If you don't think of reciprocity as one of the beautiful and rewarding things about being a human being, you wish for a place or a way of acting without consequence.\" When the rules of high school social life seem arbitrary and oppressive, the allure of making your own rules is pretty powerful.\n\nThis approach works pretty well as long as you're the sole denizen of your creation. But like the God of Genesis, coders quickly get lonely. They build portals into their homespun worlds, allowing others to enter. And that's where things get complicated: On the one hand, the more inhabitants in the world you've built, the more power you have. But on the other hand, the citizens can get uppity. \"The programmer wants to set up some rules, to either a game or a system, and then let it run without interference from anything,\" says Douglas Rush-koff, an early cyberbooster-turned-cyberpragmatist. \"If you have a program that needs a minder to come in and help it run, then it's not a very good program, is it? It's supposed to just run.\"\n\nCoders sometimes harbor God impulses; they sometimes even have aspirations to revolutionize society. But they almost never aspire to be politicians. \"While programming is considered a transparent, neutral, highly controllable realm ... where production results in immediate gratification and something useful,\" writes NYU anthropologist Gabriella Coleman, \"politics tends to be seen by programmers as buggy, mediated, tainted action clouded by ideology that is not productive of much of anything.\" There's some merit to that view, of course. But for programmers to shun politics completely is a problem\u2014because increasingly, given the disputes that inevitably arise when people come together, the most powerful ones will be required to adjudicate and to govern.\n\nBefore we get to how this blind spot affects our lives, though, it's worth looking at how engineers think.\n\n#  **The Empire of Clever**\n\nImagine that you're a smart high school student on the low end of the social totem pole. You're alienated from adult authority, but unlike many teenagers, you're also alienated from the power structures of your peers\u2014an existence that can feel lonely and peripheral. Systems and equations are intuitive, but people aren't\u2014social signals are confusing and messy, difficult to interpret.\n\nThen you discover code. You may be powerless at the lunch table, but code gives you power over an infinitely malleable world and opens the door to a symbolic system that's perfectly clear and ordered. The jostling for position and status fades away. The nagging parental voices disappear. There's just a clean, white page for you to fill, an opportunity to build a better place, a home, from the ground up.\n\nNo wonder you're a geek.\n\nThis isn't to say that geeks and software engineers are friendless or even socially inept. But there's an implicit promise in becoming a coder: Apprentice yourself to symbolic systems, learn to carefully understand the rules that govern them, and you'll gain power to manipulate them. The more powerless you feel, the more appealing this promise becomes. \"Hacking,\" Steven Levy writes, \"gave you not only an understanding of the system but an addictive control as well, along with the illusion that total control was just a few features away.\"\n\nAs anthropologist Coleman points out, beyond the Jocks-and-Nerds stereotypes, there are actually many different geek cultures. There are open-software advocates, most famously embodied by Linux founder Linus Torvalds, who spend untold hours collaboratively building free software tools for the masses, and there are Silicon Valley start-up entrepreneurs. There are antispam zealots, who organize online posses to seek out and shut down Viagra purveyors. And then there's the more antagonistic wing: spammers; \"trolls,\" who spend their time looking for fun ways to leverage technology at others' expense; \"phreaks,\" who are animated by the challenge to break open telecommunications systems; and hackers who break into government systems to prove it can be done.\n\nGeneralizations that span these different niches and communities run the risk of stereotyping and tend to fall short. But at the heart of these subcultures is a shared method for looking at and asserting power in the world, which influences how and why online software is made.\n\nThe through-line is a focus on systematization. Nearly all geek cultures are structured as an empire of clever wherein ingenuity, not charisma, is king. The intrinsic efficiency of a creation is more important than how it looks. Geek cultures are data driven and reality based, valuing substance over style. Humor plays a prominent role\u2014as Coleman points out, jokes demonstrate an ability to manipulate language in the same way that an elegant solution to a tricky programming problem demonstrates mastery over code. (The fact that humor also often serves to unmask the ridiculous pieties of the powerful is undoubtedly also part of its appeal.)\n\nSystematization is especially alluring because it doesn't offer power just in the virtual sphere. It can also provide a way to understand and navigate social situations. I learned this firsthand when, as an awkward seventeen-year-old with all the trappings of geek experience (the fantasy books, the introversion, the obsession with HTML and BBSes), I flew across the country to accept the wrong job.\n\nIn a late-junior-year panic, I'd applied for every internship I could find. One group, a nuclear disarmament organization based in San Francisco, had gotten back to me, and without much further investigation, I'd signed up. It was only when I walked into the office that I realized I'd signed up to be a can vaser. Off the top of my head, I couldn't imagine a worse fit, but because I had no other prospects, I decided to stick out the day of training.\n\nCanvasing, the trainer explained, was a science as much as an art. And the laws were powerful. Make eye contact. Explain why the issue matters to you. And after you ask for money, let your target say the first thing. I was intrigued: Asking people for money was scary, but the briefing hinted at a hidden logic. I committed the rules to memory.\n\nWhen I walked through my first grassy Palo Alto lawn, my heart was in my throat. Here I was at the doorstep of someone I'd never met, asking for $50. The door opened and a harried woman with long gray hair peeped out. I took a deep breath, and launched into my spiel. I asked. I waited. And then she nodded and went to get her checkbook.\n\nThe euphoria I felt wasn't about the $50. It was about something bigger\u2014the promise that the chaos of human social life could be reduced to rules that I could understand, follow, and master. Conversation with strangers had never come naturally to me\u2014I didn't know what to talk about. But the hidden logic of getting someone I'd never met to trust me with $50 had to be the tip of a larger iceberg. By the end of a summer traipsing through the yards of Palo Alto and Marin, I was a master canvaser.\n\nSystematization is a great method for building functional software. And the quantitative, scientific approach to social observation has given us many great insights into human phenomena as well. Dan Ariely researches the \"predictably irrational\" decisions we make on a daily basis; his findings help us make better decisions. The blog at OkCupid.com, a math-driven dating Web site, identifies patterns in the e-mails flying back and forth between people to make them better daters (\"Howdy\" is a better opener than \"Hi\").\n\nBut there are dangers in taking the method too far. As I discussed in chapter 5, the most human acts are often the most unpredictable ones. Because systematizing works much of the time, it's easy to believe that by reducing and brute-forcing an understanding of any system, you can control it. And as a master of a self-created universe, it's easy to start to view people as a means to an end, as variables to be manipulated on a mental spreadsheet, rather than as breathing, thinking beings. It's difficult both to systematize and to appeal to the fullness of human life\u2014its unpredictability, emotionality, and surprising quirks\u2014at the same time.\n\nDavid Gelernter, a Yale computer scientist, barely survived an encounter with an explosive package sent by the Unabomber; his eyesight and right hand are permanently damaged as a result. But Gelernter is hardly the technological utopian Ted Kaczinski believed him to be.\n\n\"When you do something in the public sphere,\" Gelernter told a reporter, \"it behooves you to know something about what the public sphere is like. How did this country get this way? What was the history of the relationship between technology and the public? What's the history of political exchange? The problem is, hackers don't tend to know any of that. And that's why it worries me to have these people in charge of public policy. Not because they're bad, just because they're uneducated.\"\n\nUnderstanding the rules that govern a messy, complex world makes it intelligible and navigable. But systematizing inevitably involves a trade-off\u2014rules give you some control, but you lose nuance and texture, a sense of deeper connection. And when a strict systematizing sensibility entirely shapes social space (as it often does online), the results aren't always pretty.\n\n#  **The New Architects**\n\nThe political power of design has long been obvious to urban planners. If you take the Wantagh State Parkway from Westbury to Jones Beach on Long Island, at intervals you'll pass under several low, vine-covered overpasses. Some of them have as little as nine feet of clearance. Trucks aren't allowed on the parkway\u2014they wouldn't fit. This may seem like a design oversight, but it's not.\n\nThere are about two hundred of these low bridges, part of the grand design for the New York region pioneered by Robert Moses. Moses was a master deal maker, a friend of the great politicians of the time, and an unabashed elitist. According to his biographer, Robert A. Caro, Moses's vision for Jones Beach was as an island getaway for middle-class white families. He included the low bridges to make it harder for low-income (and mostly black) New Yorkers to get to the beach, as public buses\u2014the most common form of transport for inner-city residents\u2014couldn't clear the overpasses.\n\nThe passage in Caro's _The Power Broker_ describing this logic caught the eye of Langdon Winner, a _Rolling Stone_ reporter, musician, professor, and philosopher of technology. In a pivotal 1980 article titled \"Do Artifacts Have Politics?\" Winner considered how Moses's \"monumental structures of concrete and steel embody a systematic social inequality, a way of engineering relationships among people that, after a time, became just another part of the landscape.\"\n\nOn the face of it, a bridge is just a bridge. But often, as Winner points out, architectural and design decisions are underpinned by politics as much as aesthetics. Like goldfish that grow only large enough for the tank they're in, we're contextual beings: how we behave is dictated in part by the shape of our environments. Put a playground in a park, and you encourage one kind of use; build a memorial, and you encourage another.\n\nAs we spend more of our time in cyberspace\u2014and less of our time in what geeks sometimes call meatspace, or the offline world\u2014Moses's bridges are worth keeping in mind. The algorithms of Google and Facebook may not be made of steel and concrete, but they regulate our behavior just as effectively. That's what Larry Lessig, a law professor and one of the early theorists of cyberspace, meant when he famously wrote that \"code is law.\"\n\nIf code is law, software engineers and geeks are the ones who get to write it. And it's a funny kind of law, created without any judicial system or legislators and enforced nearly perfectly and instantly. Even with antivandalism laws on the books, in the physical world you can still throw a rock through the window of a store you don't like. You might even get away with it. But if vandalism isn't part of the design of an online world, it's simply impossible. Try to throw a rock through a virtual storefront, and you just get an error.\n\nBack in 1980, Winner wrote, \"Consciously or unconsciously, deliberately or inadvertently, societies choose structures for technologies that influence how people are going to work, communicate, travel, consume, and so forth over a very long time.\" This isn't to say that today's designers have malevolent impulses, of course\u2014or even that they're always explicitly trying to shape society in certain ways. It's just to say that they can\u2014in fact, they can't help but shape the worlds they build.\n\nTo paraphrase Spider-Man creator Stan Lee, with great power comes great responsibility. But the programmers who brought us the Internet and now the filter bubble aren't always game to take on that responsibility. The Hacker Jargon File, an online repository of geek culture, puts it this way: \"Hackers are far more likely than most non-hackers to either (a) be aggressively apolitical or (b) entertain peculiar or idiosyncratic political ideas.\" Too often, the executives of Facebook, Google, and other socially important companies play it coy: They're social revolutionaries when it suits them and neutral, amoral businessmen when it doesn't. And both approaches fall short in important ways.\n\n#  **Playing It Coy**\n\nWhen I first called Google's PR department, I explained that I wanted to know how Google thought about its enormous curatorial power. What was the code of ethics, I asked, that Google uses to determine what to show to whom? The public affairs manager on the other end of the phone sounded confused. \"You mean privacy?\" No, I said, I wanted to know how Google thought about its editorial power. \"Oh,\" he replied, \"we're just trying to give people the most relevant information.\" Indeed, he seemed to imply, no ethics were involved or required.\n\nI persisted: If a 9\/11 conspiracy theorist searches for \"9\/11,\" was it Google's job to show him the _Popular Mechanics_ article that debunks his theory or the movie that supports it? Which was more relevant? \"I see what you're getting at,\" he said. \"It's an interesting question.\" But I never got a clear answer.\n\nMuch of the time, as the Jargon File entry claims, engineers resist the idea that their work has moral or political consequences at all. Many engineers see themselves as interested in efficiency and design, in building cool stuff rather than messy ideological disputes and inchoate values. And it's true that if political consequences of, say, a somewhat faster video-rendering engine exist, they're pretty obscure.\n\nBut at times, this attitude can verge on a \"Guns don't kill people, people do\" mentality\u2014a willful blindness to how their design decisions affect the daily lives of millions. That Facebook's button is named Like prioritizes some kinds of information over others. That Google has moved from PageRank\u2014which is designed to show the societal consensus result\u2014to a mix of PageRank and personalization represents a shift in how Google understands relevance and meaning.\n\nThis amorality would be par for the corporate course if it didn't coincide with sweeping, world-changing rhetoric from the same people and entities. Google's mission to organize the world's information and make it accessible to everyone carries a clear moral and even political connotation\u2014a democratic redistribution of knowledge from closed-door elites to the people. Apple's devices are marketed with the rhetoric of social change and the promise that they'll revolutionize not only your life but our society as well. (The famous Super Bowl ad announcing the release of the Macintosh computer ends by declaring that \"1984 won't be like _1984._ \")\n\nFacebook describes itself as a \"social utility,\" as if it's a twenty-first-century phone company. But when users protest Facebook's constantly shifting and eroding privacy policy, Zuckerberg often shrugs it off with the caveat emptor posture that if you don't want to use Facebook, you don't have to. It's hard to imagine a major phone company getting away with saying, \"We're going to publish your phone conversations for anyone to hear\u2014and if you don't like it, just don't use the phone.\"\n\nGoogle tends to be more explicitly moral in its public aspirations; its motto is \"Don't be evil,\" while Facebook's unofficial motto is \"Don't be lame.\" Nevertheless, Google's founders also sometimes play a get-out-of-jail-free card. \"Some say Google is God. Others say Google is Satan,\" says Sergey Brin. \"But if they think Google is too powerful, remember that with search engines, unlike other companies, all it takes is a single click to go to another search engine. People come to Google because they choose to. We don't trick them.\"\n\nOf course, Brin has a point: No one is forced to use Google, just as no one is forced to eat at McDonald's. But there's also something troubling about this argument, which minimizes the responsibility he might have to the billions of users who rely on the service Google provides and in turn drive the company's billions in advertising revenue.\n\nTo further muddle the picture, when the social repercussions of their work are troubling, the chief architects of the online world often fall back on the manifest-destiny rhetoric of technodeterminism. Technologists, Siva Vaidyanathan points out, rarely say something \"could\" or \"should\" happen\u2014they say it \"will\" happen. \"The search engines of the future will be personalized,\" says Google Vice President Marissa Mayer, using the passive tense.\n\nJust as some Marxists believed that the economic conditions of a society would inevitably propel it through capitalism and toward a world socialist regime, it's easy to find engineers and technodeterminist pundits who believe that technology is on a set course. Sean Parker, the cofounder of Napster and rogue early president of Facebook, tells _Vanity Fair_ that he's drawn to hacking because it's about \"re-architecting society. It's technology, not business or government, that's the real driving force behind large-scale societal shifts.\"\n\nKevin Kelly, the founding editor of _Wired,_ wrote perhaps the boldest book articulating the technodeterminist view, _What Technology Wants_ , in which he posits that technology is a \"seventh kingdom of life,\" a kind of meta-organism with desires and tendencies of its own. Kelly believes that the technium, as he calls it, is more powerful than any of us mere humans. Ultimately, technology\u2014a force that \"wants\" to eat power and expand choice\u2014will get what it wants whether we want it to or not.\n\nTechnodeterminism is alluring and convenient for newly powerful entrepreneurs because it absolves them of responsibility for what they do. Like priests at the altar, they're mere vessels of a much larger force that it would be futile to resist. They need not concern themselves with the effects of the systems they've created. But technology _doesn't_ solve every problem of its own accord. If it did, we wouldn't have millions of people starving to death in a world with an oversupply of food.\n\nIt shouldn't be surprising that software entrepreneurs are incoherent about their social and political responsibilities. A great deal of this tension undoubtedly comes from the fact that the nature of online business is to scale up as quickly as possible. Once you're on the road to mass success and riches\u2014often as a very young coder\u2014there simply isn't much time to fully think all of this through. And the pressure of the venture capitalists breathing down your neck to \"monetize\" doesn't always offer much space for rumination on social responsibility.\n\n#  **The $50 Billion Sand Castle**\n\nOnce a year, the Y Combinator start-up incubator hosts a daylong conference called Startup School, where successful tech entrepreneurs pass wisdom on to the aspiring audience of bright-eyed Y Combinator investees. The agenda typically includes many of the top CEOs in Silicon Valley, and in 2010, Mark Zuckerberg was at the top of the list.\n\nZuckerberg was in an affable mood, dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans and enjoying what was clearly a friendly crowd. Even so, when Jessica Livingston, his interviewer, asked him about _The Social Network,_ the movie that had made him a household name, a range of emotions crossed his face. \"It's interesting what kind of stuff they focused on getting right,\" Zuckerberg began. \"Like, every single shirt and fleece they had in that movie is actually a shirt or fleece that I own.\"\n\nWhere there was an egregious discrepancy between fiction and reality, Zuckerberg told her, was how his own motivations were painted. \"They frame it as if the whole reason for making Facebook and building something was that I wanted to get girls, or wanted to get into some kind of social institution. And the reality, for people who know me, is that I've been dating the same girl since before I started Facebook. It's such a big disconnect.... They just can't wrap their head around the idea that someone might build something because they like building things.\"\n\nIt's entirely possible that the line was just a clever bit of Facebook PR. And there's no question that the twenty-six-year-old billionaire is motivated by empire building. But the comment struck me as candid: For programmers as for artists and craftsmen, making things is often its own best reward.\n\nFacebook's flaws and its founder's ill-conceived views about identity aren't the result of an antisocial, vindictive mind-set. More likely, they're a natural consequence of the odd situation successful start-ups like Facebook create, in which a twenty-something guy finds himself, in a matter of five years, in a position of great authority over the doings of 500 million human beings. One day you're making sand castles; the next, your sand castle is worth $50 billion and everyone in the world wants a piece of it.\n\nOf course, there are far worse business-world personality types with whom to entrust the fabric of our social lives. With a reverence for rules, geeks tend to be principled\u2014to carefully consider and then follow the rules they set for themselves and to stick to them under social pressure. \"They have a somewhat skeptical view of authority,\" Stanford professor Terry Winograd said of his former students Page and Brin. \"If they see the world going one way and they believe it should be going the other way, they are more like to say 'the rest of the world is wrong' rather than 'maybe we should reconsider.'\"\n\nBut the traits that fuel the best start-ups\u2014aggression, a touch of arrogance, an interest in empire building, and of course brilliant systematizing skills\u2014can become a bit more problematic when you rule the world. Like pop stars who are vaulted onto the global stage, world-building engineers aren't always ready or willing to accept the enormous responsibility they come to hold when their creations start to teem with life. And it's not infrequently the case that engineers who are deeply mistrustful of power in the hands of others see themselves as supreme rationalists impervious to its effects.\n\nIt may be that this is too much power to entrust to any small, homogeneous group of individuals. Media moguls who get their start with a fierce commitment to the truth become the confidants of presidents and lose their edge; businesses begun as social ventures become preoccupied with delivering shareholder value. In any case, one consequence of the current system is that we can end up placing a great deal of power in the hands of people who can have some pretty far-out, not entirely well-developed political ideas. Take Peter Thiel, one of Zuckerberg's early investors and mentors.\n\nThiel has penthouse apartments in San Francisco and New York and a silver gullwing McLaren, the fastest car in the world. He also owns about 5 percent of Facebook. Despite his boyish, handsome features, Thiel often looks as though he's brooding. Or maybe he's just lost in thought. In his teenage years, he was a high-ranking chess player but stopped short of becoming a grand master. \"Taken too far, chess can become an alternate reality in which one loses sight of the real world,\" he told an interviewer for _Fortune._ \"My chess ability was roughly at the limit. Had I become any stronger, there would have been some massive tradeoffs with success in other domains in life.\" In high school, he read Solzhenitsyn's _Gulag Archipelago_ and J. R. R. Tolkien's _Lord of the Rings_ series, visions of corrupt and totalitarian power. At Stanford, he started a libertarian newspaper, the _Stanford,_ to preach the gospel of freedom.\n\nIn 1998, Thiel cofounded the company that would become PayPal, which he sold to eBay for $1.5 billion in 2002. Today Thiel runs a multi-billion-dollar hedge fund, Clarium, and a venture capital firm, Founder's Fund, which invests in software companies throughout Silicon Valley. Thiel has made some legendarily good picks\u2014among them, Facebook, in which he was the first outside investor. (He's also made some bad ones\u2014Clarium has lost billions in the last few years.) But for Thiel, investing is more than a day job. It's an avocation. \"By starting a new Internet business, an entrepreneur may create a new world,\" Thiel says. \"The hope of the Internet is that these new worlds will impact and force change on the existing social and political order.\"\n\nHis comments raise the question of what kind of change Thiel would like to see. While many billionaires are fairly circumspect about their political views, Thiel has been vocal\u2014and it's safe to say that there are few with views as unusual as Thiel's. \"Peter wants to end the inevitability of death and taxes,\" Thiel's sometime collaborator Patri Friedman (grandson of Milton) told _Wired._ \"I mean, talk about aiming high!\"\n\nIn an essay posted on the libertarian Cato Institute's Web site, Thiel describes why he believes that \"freedom and democracy are no longer compatible.\" \"Since 1920,\" he writes, \"the vast increase in welfare beneficiaries and the extension of the franchise to women\u2014two constituencies that are notoriously tough for libertarians\u2014have rendered the notion of 'capitalist democracy' into an oxymoron.\" Then he outlines his hopes for the future: space exploration, \"sea-steading,\" which involves building movable microcountries on the open ocean, and cyberspace. Thiel has poured millions into technologies to sequence genes and prolong life. He's also focused on preparing for the Singularity, the moment a few decades from now when some futurists believe that humans and machines are likely to meld.\n\nIn an interview, he argues that should the Singularity arrive, one would be well advised to be on the side of the computers: \"Certainly we would hope that [an artificially intelligent computer] would be friendly to human beings. At the same time, I don't think you'd want to be known as one of the human beings that is against computers and makes a living being against computers.\"\n\nIf all this sounds a little fantastical, it doesn't worry Thiel. He's focused on the long view. \"Technology is at the center of what will determine the course of the 21st century,\" he says. \"There are aspects of it that are great and aspects that are terrible, and there are some real choices humans have to make about which technologies to foster and which ones we should be more careful about.\"\n\nPeter Thiel is entitled to his idiosyncratic views, of course, but they're worth paying attention to because they increasingly shape the world we all live in. There are only four other people on the Facebook board besides Mark Zuckerberg; Thiel is one of them, and Zuckerberg publicly describes him as a mentor. \"He helped shape the way I think about the business,\" Zuckerberg said in a 2006 Bloomberg News interview. As Thiel says, we have some big decisions to make about technology. And as for how those decisions get made? \"I have little hope,\" he writes, \"that voting will make things better.\"\n\n#  **\"What Game Are You Playing?\"**\n\nOf course, not all engineers and geeks have the views about democracy and freedom that Peter Thiel does\u2014he's surely an outlier. Craig Newmark, the founder of the free Web site craigslist, spends most of his time arguing for \"geek values\" that include service and public-spiritedness. Jimmy Wales and the editors at Wikipedia work to make human knowledge free to everyone. The filtering goliaths make huge contributions here as well: The democratic ideal of an enlightened, capable citizenry is well served by the broader set of relationships Facebook allows me to manage and the mountains of formerly hard-to-access research papers and other public information that Google has freed.\n\nBut the engineering community can do more to strengthen the Internet's civic space. And to get a sense of the path ahead, I talked to Scott Heiferman.\n\nHeiferman, the founder of MeetUp.com, is soft-spoken in a Midwestern sort of way. That's fitting, because he grew up in Homewood, Illinois, a small town on the outskirts of Chicago. \"It was a stretch to call it suburban,\" he says. His parents operated a paint store.\n\nAs a teenager, Heiferman devoured material about Steve Jobs, eating up the story about how Jobs wooed a senior executive from Pepsi by asking him if he wanted to change the world or sell sugar water. \"Throughout my life,\" he told me, \"I've had a love-hate relationship with advertising.\" At the University of Iowa in the early 1990s, Heiferman studied engineering and marketing but at night he ran a radio show called _Advertorial Infotainment_ in which he would remix and cut advertisements together to create a kind of sound art. He put the finished shows online and encouraged people to send in ads to remix, and the attention got him his first job, managing the Web site at Sony .com.\n\nAfter a few years as Sony's \"interactive-marketing frontiersman,\" Heiferman founded i-traffic, one of the major early advertising companies of the Web. Soon i-traffic was the agency of record for clients like Disney and British Airways. But although the company was growing quickly, he was dissatisfied. The back of his business card had a mission statement about connecting people with brands they'd love, but he was increasingly uncertain that was a worthy endeavor\u2014perhaps he was selling sugar water after all. He left the company in 2000.\n\nFor the remainder of the year and into 2001, Heiferman was in a funk. \"I was exhibiting what you could call being depressed,\" he says. When he heard the first word of the World Trade Center attacks on 9\/11, he ran up to his lower-Manhattan rooftop and watched in horror. \"I talked to more strangers in the next three days,\" he says, \"than in the previous five years of living in New York.\"\n\nShortly after the attacks, Heiferman came across the blog post that changed his life. It argued that the attacks, as awful as they were, might bring Americans back together in their civic life, and referenced the bestselling book _Bowling Alone_. Heiferman bought a copy and read it cover to cover. \"I became captivated,\" he says, \"by the question of whether we could use technology to rebuild and strengthen community.\" MeetUp.com, a site that makes it easy for local groups to meet face-to-face, was his answer, and today, MeetUp serves over 79,000 local groups that do that. There's the Martial Arts MeetUp in Orlando and the Urban Spirituality MeetUp in Barcelona and the Black Singles MeetUp in Houston. And Heiferman is a happier man.\n\n\"What I learned being in the ad business,\" he says, \"is that people can just go a long time without asking themselves what they should put their talent towards. You're playing a game, and you know the point of the game is to win. But what game are you playing? What are you optimizing for? If you're playing the game of trying to get the maximum downloads of your app, you'll make the better farting app.\"\n\n\"We don't need more things,\" he says. \"People are more magical than iPads! Your relationships are not media. Your friendships are not media. Love is not media.\" In his low-key way, Heiferman is getting worked up.\n\nEvangelizing this view of technology\u2014that it ought to do something meaningful to make our lives more fulfilling and to solve the big problems we face\u2014isn't as easy as it might seem. In addition to MeetUp more generally, Scott founded the New York Tech MeetUp, a group of ten thousand software engineers who meet every month to preview new Web sites. At a recent meeting, Scott made an impassioned plea for the assembled group to focus on solving the problems that matter\u2014education, health care, the environment. It didn't get a very good reception\u2014in fact, he was just about booed off the stage. \"'We just want to do cool stuff,' was the attitude,\" Scott told me later. \" 'Don't bother me with this politics stuff.' \"\n\nTechnodeterminists like to suggest that technology is inherently good. But despite what Kevin Kelly says, technology is no more benevolent than a wrench or a screwdriver. It's only good when people make it do good things and use it in good ways. Melvin Kranzberg, a professor who studies the history of technology, put it best nearly thirty years ago, and his statement is now known as Kranzberg's first law: \"Technology is neither good or bad, nor is it neutral.\"\n\nFor better or worse, programmers and engineers are in a position of remarkable power to shape the future of our society. They can use this power to help solve the big problems of our age\u2014poverty, education, disease\u2014or they can, as Heifer-man says, make a better farting app. They're entitled to do either, of course. But it's disingenuous to have it both ways\u2014to claim your enterprise is great and good when it suits you and claim you're a mere sugar-water salesman when it doesn't.\n\nActually, building an informed and engaged citizenry\u2014in which people have the tools to help manage not only their own lives but their own communities and societies\u2014is one of the most fascinating and important engineering challenges. Solving it will take a great deal of technical skill mixed with humanistic understanding\u2014a real feat. We need more programmers to go beyond Google's famous slogan, \"Don't be evil.\" We need engineers who will do good.\n\nAnd we need them soon: If personalization remains on its current trajectory, as the next chapter describes, the near future could be stranger and more problematic than many of us would imagine.\n**7**\n\n**What You Want, Whether You Want It or Not**\n\nThere will always be plenty of things to compute in the detailed affairs of millions of people doing complicated things.\n\n\u2014computing pioneer Vannevar Bush, 1945\n\nAll collected data had come to a final end. Nothing was left to be collected. But all collected data had yet to be completely correlated and put together in all possible relationships.\n\n\u2014from Isaac Asimov's short story \"The Last Question\"\n\n**I** recently received a friend invitation on Facebook from someone whose name I didn't recognize, a curvy-figured girl with big eyes and thick lashes. Clicking to figure out who she was (and, I'll admit, to look more closely), I read over her profile. It didn't tell me a lot about her, but it seemed like the profile of someone I might plausibly know. A few of our interests were the same.\n\nI looked again at the eyes. They were a little _too_ big.\n\nIn fact, when I looked more closely, I realized her profile picture wasn't even a photograph\u2014it had been rendered by a 3-D graphics program. There was no such person. My new attractive would-be friend was a figment of software, crawling through friend connections to harvest data from Facebook users. Even the list of movies and books she liked appeared to have been ripped from the lists of her \"friends.\"\n\nFor lack of a better word, let's call her an _advertar_ \u2014a virtual being with a commercial purpose. As the filter bubble's membrane becomes thicker and harder to penetrate, advertars could become a powerful adaptive strategy. If I only get the news from my code and my friends, the easiest way to get my attention might be friends who are code.\n\nThe technologies that support personalization will only get more powerful in the years ahead. Sensors that can pick up new personal signals and data streams will become even more deeply embedded in the surface of everyday life. The server farms that support the Googles and Amazons will grow, while the processors inside them shrink; that computing power will be unleashed to make increasingly precise guesses about our preferences and even our interior lives. Personalized \"augmented reality\" technologies will project an overlay over our experience of the real world, not just the digital one. Even Nicholas Negroponte's intelligent agents may make a comeback. \"Markets are strong forces,\" says Bill Joy, the legendary programmer who cofounded Sun Microsystems. \"They take you somewhere very quickly. And if where they take you is not where you want to go, you've got a problem.\"\n\nIn 2002, the sci-fi movie _Minority Report_ featured personalized holographic advertisements that accosted pedestrians as they walked down the street. In Tokyo, the first _Minority Report_ \u2013style personalized billboard has gone up outside of the NEC corporation's headquarters (minus, for now, the holography). It's powered by the company's PanelDirector software, which scans the faces of passersby and matches them to a database of ten thousand stored photos to make guesses about their age and gender. When a young woman steps in front of the display, it responds instantly by showing her ads tailored to her. IBM's on the case, too; its prototype advertising displays use remotely readable identity cards to greet viewers by name.\n\nIn _Reality Hunger,_ a book-length essay composed entirely of text fragments and reworked quotations, David Shields makes the case for the growing movement of artists who are \"breaking larger and larger chunks of 'reality' into their work.\" Shields's examples are far-ranging, including _The Blair Witch Project, Borat,_ and _Curb Your Enthusiasm;_ karaoke, VH1's _Behind the Music,_ and public access TV; _The Eminem Show_ and _The Daily Show,_ documentary and mockumentary _._ These pieces, he says, are the most vital art of our time, part of a new mode characterized by \"a deliberate unartiness\" and \"a blurring (to the point of invisibility) of any distinction between fiction and nonfiction: the lure and blur of the real.\" Truthiness, in Shields's view, is the future of art.\n\nAs goes art, so goes technology. The future of personalization\u2014and of computing itself\u2014is a strange amalgam of the real and the virtual. It's a future where our cities and our bedrooms and all of the spaces in between exhibit what researchers call \"ambient intelligence.\" It's a future where our environments shift around us to suit our preferences and even our moods. And it's a future where advertisers will develop ever more powerful and reality-bending ways to make sure their products are seen.\n\nThe days when the filter bubble disappears when we step away from our computers, in other words, are numbered.\n\n#  **The Robot with Gaydar**\n\nStanford Law professor Ryan Calo thinks a lot about robots, but he doesn't spend much time musing about a future of cyborgs and androids. He's more interested in Roombas, the little robotic vacuum cleaners currently on the market. Roomba owners name their machines like pets. They delight in watching the little bumbling devices wander around the room. Roombas provoke an emotional response, even a sense of relationship. And in the next few years, they'll be joined by a small army of consumer-electronic brethren.\n\nThe increasing prevalence of humanlike machines in everyday life presents us with new dilemmas in personalization and privacy. The emotions provoked by \"humanness,\" both virtually (advertars) and in reality (humanlike robots) are powerful. And when people begin to relate to machines as we do to humans, we can be convinced to reveal implicit information that we would never directly give away.\n\nFor one thing, the presence of humanoid faces changes behavior, compelling people to behave more like they're in public. The Chinese experiment with Jingjing and Chacha, the cartoon Internet police, is one example of this power. On the one hand, Calo points out, people are much less likely to volunteer private information when being interrogated by a virtual agent than when simply filling out a form. This is part of why the intelligent-agent craze didn't work out the first time around: In many cases, it's easier to get people to share personal information if they feel as though they're privately entering it into an impersonal machine rather than sharing it with people.\n\nOn the other hand, when Harvard researchers Terence Burnham and Brian Hare asked volunteers to play a game in which they could choose to donate money or keep it, a picture of the friendly looking robot Kismet increased donations by 30 percent. Humanlike agents tend to make us clam up on the intimate details of our lives, because they make us feel as if we're actually around other people. For elderly folks living alone or a child recovering in a hospital, a virtual or robotic friend can be a great relief from loneliness and boredom.\n\nThis is all to the good. But humanlike agents also have a great deal of power to shape our behavior. \"Computers programmed to be polite, or to evidence certain personalities,\" Calo writes, \"have profound effects on the politeness, acceptance, and other behavior of test subjects.\" And because they engage with people, they can pull out implicit information that we'd never intend to divulge. A flirty robot, for example, might be able to read subconscious cues\u2014eye contact, body language\u2014to quickly identify personality traits of its interlocutor.\n\nThe challenge, Calo says, is that it's hard to remember that humanlike software and hardware aren't human at all. Advertars or robotic assistants may have access to the whole set of personal data that exists online\u2014they may know more about you, more precisely, than your best friend. And as persuasion and personality profiling get better, they'll develop an increasingly nuanced sense of how to shift your behaviors.\n\nWhich brings us back to the advertar. In an attention-limited world, lifelike, and especially humanlike, signals stand out\u2014we're hardwired to pay attention to them. It's far easier to ignore a billboard than an attractive person calling your name. And as a result, advertisers may well decide to invest in technology that allows them to insert human advertisements into social spaces. The next attractive man or woman who friends you on Facebook could turn out to be an ad for a bag of chips.\n\nAs Calo puts it, \"people are not evolved to twentieth-century technology. The human brain evolved in a world in which only humans exhibited rich social behaviors, and a world in which all perceived objects were real physical objects.\" Now all that's shifting.\n\n#  **The Future Is Already Here**\n\nThe future of personalization is driven by a simple economic calculation. Signals about our personal behavior and the computing power necessary to crunch through them are becoming cheaper than ever to acquire. And as that cost collapses, strange new possibilities come within reach.\n\nTake facial recognition. Using MORIS, a $3,000 iPhone app, the police in Brockton, Massachusetts, can snap a photo of a suspect and check his or her identity and criminal record in seconds. Tag a few pictures with Picasa, Google's photo-management tool, and the software can already pick out who's who in a collection of photos. And according to Eric Schmidt, the same is true of Google's cache of images from the entire Web. \"Give us 14 images of you,\" he told a crowd of technologists at the Techonomy Conference in 2010, \"and we can find other images of you with ninety-five percent accuracy.\"\n\nAs of the end of 2010, however, this feature isn't available in Google Image Search. Face.com, an Israeli start-up, may offer the service before the search giant does. It's not every day that a company develops a highly useful and world-changing technology and then waits for a competitor to launch it first. But Google has good reason to be concerned: The ability to search by face will shatter many of our cultural illusions about privacy and anonymity.\n\nMany of us will be caught in flagrante delicto. It's not just that your friends (and enemies) will be able to easily find pictures other people have taken of you\u2014as if the whole Internet has been tagged on Facebook. They will also be able to find pictures other people took of other people, in which you happen to be walking by or smoking a cigarette in the background.\n\nAfter the data has been crunched, the rest is easy. Want to search for two people\u2014say your boyfriend and that overly friendly intern you suspect him of dallying with, or your employee and that executive who's been trying to woo him away? Easy. Want to build a Facebook-style social graph by looking at who appears most often with whom? A cinch. Want to see which of your coworkers posted profiles on anonymous dating sites\u2014or, for that matter, photos of themselves in various states of undress? Want to see what your new friend used to look like in his drugged out days? Want to find mobsters in the Witness Protection program, or spies in deep cover? The possibilities are nearly limitless.\n\nTo be sure, doing face recognition right takes an immense amount of computing power. The tool in Picasa is slow\u2014on my laptop, it crunches for minutes. So for the time being, it may be too expensive to do it well for the whole Web. But face recognition has Moore's law, one of the most powerful laws in computing, on its side: Every year, as processor speed per dollar doubles, it'll get twice as cheap to do. Sooner or later, mass face recognition\u2014perhaps even in real time, which would allow for recognition on security and video feeds\u2014will roll out.\n\nFacial recognition is especially significant because it'll create a kind of privacy discontinuity. We're used to a public semianonymity\u2014while we know we may be spotted in a club or on the street, it's unlikely that we will be. But as security-camera and camera-phone pictures become searchable by face, that expectation will slip away. Shops with cameras facing the doors\u2014and aisles\u2014will be able to watch precisely where individual customers wander, what they pick up, and how this correlates with the data already collected about them by firms like Acxiom. And this powerful set of data\u2014where you go and what you do, as indicated by where your face shows up in the bitstream\u2014can be used to provide ever more custom-tailored experiences.\n\nIt's not just people that will be easier than ever to track. It's also individual objects\u2014what some researchers are calling the \"Internet of things.\"\n\nAs sci-fi author William Gibson once said, \"The future is already here\u2014it's just not very evenly distributed.\" It shows up in some places before others. And one of the places this particular aspect of the future has shown up first, oddly enough, is the Coca-Cola Village Amusement Park, a holiday village, theme park, and marketing event that opens seasonally in Israel. Sponsored by Facebook and Coke, the teenagers attending the park in the summer of 2010 were given bracelets containing a tiny piece of circuitry that allowed them to Like real-world objects. Wave the bracelet at the entrance to a ride, for example, and a status update posted to your account testifies that you're about to embark. Take a picture of your friends with a special camera and wave the bracelet at it, and the photo's posted with your identity already tagged.\n\nEmbedded in each bracelet is a radio-frequency identification (RFID) chip. RFID chips don't need batteries, and there's only one way to use them: call-and-response. Provide a little wireless electromagnetic power, and the chip chirps out a unique identifying code. Correlate the code with, say, a Facebook account, and you're in business. A single chip can cost as little as $.07, and they'll cost far less in the years to come.\n\nSuddenly it's possible for businesses to track each individual object they make across the globe. Affix a chip to an individual car part, and you can watch as the part travels to the car factory, gets assembled into a car, and makes its way to the show floor and then someone's garage. No more inventory shrinkage, no more having to recall whole models of products because of the errors of one factory.\n\nConversely, RFID provides a framework by which a home could automatically inventory every object inside it\u2014and track which objects are in which rooms. With a powerful enough signal, RFID could be a permanent solution to the lost-keys problem\u2014and bring us face-to-face with what _Forbes_ writer Reihan Salam calls \"the powerful promise of a real world that can be indexed and organized as cleanly and coherently as Google has indexed and organized the Web.\"\n\nThis phenomenon is called ambient intelligence. It's based on a simple observation: The items you own, where you put them, and what you do with them is, after all, a great signal about what kind of person you are and what kind of preferences you have. \"In the near future,\" writes a team of ambient intelligence experts led by David Wright, \"every manufactured product\u2014our clothes, money, appliances, the paint on our walls, the carpets on our floors, our cars, everything\u2014will be embedded with intelligence, networks of tiny sensors and actuators, which some have termed 'smart dust.'\"\n\nAnd there's a third set of powerful signals that is getting cheaper and cheaper. In 1990, it cost about $10 to sequence a single base pair\u2014one \"letter\"\u2014of DNA. By 1999, that number had dropped to $.90. In 2004, it crossed the $.01 threshold, and now, as I write in 2010, it costs one ten-thousandth of $.01. By the time this book comes out, it'll undoubtedly cost exponentially less. By some point mid-decade, we ought to be able to sequence any random whole human genome for less than the cost of a sandwich.\n\nIt seems like something out of _Gattaca,_ but the allure of adding this data to our profiles will be strong. While it's increasingly clear that our DNA doesn't determine everything about us\u2014other cellular information sets, hormones, and our environment play a large role\u2014there are undoubtedly numerous correlations between genetic material and behavior to be made. It's not just that we'll be able to predict and avert upcoming health issues with far greater accuracy\u2014though that alone will be enough to get many of us in the door. By adding together DNA and behavioral data\u2014like the location information from iPhones or the text of Facebook status updates\u2014an enterprising scientist could run statistical regression analysis on an entire society.\n\nIn all this data lie patterns yet undreamed of. Properly harnessed, it will fuel a level of filtering acuity that's hard to imagine\u2014a world in which nearly all of our objective experience is quantified, captured, and used to inform our environments. The biggest challenge, in fact, may be thinking of the right questions to ask of these enormous flows of binary digits. And increasingly, code will learn to ask these questions itself.\n\n#  **The End of Theory**\n\nIn December 2010, researchers at Harvard, Google, _Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica,_ and the _American Heritage Dictionary_ announced the results of a four-year joint effort. The team had built a database spanning the entire contents of over five hundred years' worth of books\u20145.2 million books in total, in English, French, Chinese, German, and other languages. Now any visitor to Google's \"N-Gram viewer\" page can query it and watch how phrases rise and fall in popularity over time, from neologism to the long fade into obscurity. For the researchers, the tool suggested even grander possibilities\u2014a \"quantitative approach to the humanities,\" in which cultural changes can be scientifically mapped and measured.\n\nThe initial findings suggest how powerful the tool can be. By looking at the references to previous dates, the team found that \"humanity is forgetting its past faster with each passing year.\" And, they argued, the tool could provide \"a powerful tool for automatically identifying censorship and propaganda\" by identifying countries and languages in which there was a statistically abnormal absence of certain ideas or phrases. Leon Trotsky, for example, shows up far less in midcentury Russian books than in English or French books from the same time.\n\nThe project is undoubtedly a great service to researchers and the casually curious public. But serving academia probably wasn't Google's only motive. Remember Larry Page's declaration that he wanted to create a machine \"that can understand anything,\" which some people might call artificial intelligence? In Google's approach to creating intelligence, the key is data, and the 5 million digitized books contain an awful lot of it. To grow your artificial intelligence, you need to keep it well fed.\n\nTo get a sense of how this works, consider Google Translate, which can now do a passable job translating automatically among nearly sixty languages. You might imagine that Translate was built with a really big, really sophisticated set of translating dictionaries, but you'd be wrong. Instead, Google's engineers took a probabilistic approach: They built software that could identify which words tended to appear in connection with which, and then sought out large chunks of data that were available in multiple languages to train the software on. One of the largest chunks was patent and trademark filings, which are useful because they all say the same thing, they're in the public domain, and they have to be filed globally in scores of different languages. Set loose on a hundred thousand patent applications in English and French, Translate could determine that when _word_ showed up in the English document, _mot_ was likely to show up in the corresponding French paper. And as users correct Translate's work over time, it gets better and better.\n\nWhat Translate is doing with foreign languages Google aims to do with just about everything. Cofounder Sergey Brin has expressed his interest in plumbing genetic data. Google Voice captures millions of minutes of human speech, which engineers are hoping they can use to build the next generation of speech recognition software. Google Research has captured most of the scholarly articles in the world. And of course, Google's search users pour billions of queries into the machine every day, which provide another rich vein of cultural information. If you had a secret plan to vacuum up an entire civilization's data and use it to build artificial intelligence, you couldn't do a whole lot better.\n\nAs Google's protobrain increases in sophistication, it'll open up remarkable new possibilities. Researchers in Indonesia can benefit from the latest papers in Stanford (and vice versa) without waiting for translation delays. In a matter of a few years, it may be possible to have an automatically translated voice conversation with someone speaking a different language, opening up whole new channels of cross-cultural communication and understanding.\n\nBut as these systems become increasingly \"intelligent,\" they also become harder to control and understand. It's not quite right to say they take on a life of their own\u2014ultimately, they're still just code. But they reach a level of complexity at which even their programmers can't fully explain any given output.\n\nThis is already true to a degree with Google's search algorithm. Even to its engineers, the workings of the algorithm are somewhat mysterious. \"If they opened up the mechanics,\" says search expert Danny Sullivan, \"you still wouldn't understand it. Google could tell you all two hundred signals it uses and what the code is and you wouldn't know what to do with them.\" The core software engine of Google search is hundreds of thousands of lines of code. According to one Google employee I talked to who had spoken to the search team, \"The team tweaks and tunes, they don't really know what works or why it works, they just look at the result.\"\n\nGoogle promises that it doesn't tilt the deck in favor of its own products. But the more complex and \"intelligent\" the system gets, the harder it'll be to tell. Pinpointing where bias or error exists in a human brain is difficult or impossible\u2014there are just too many neurons and connections to narrow it down to a single malfunctioning chunk of tissue. And as we rely on intelligent systems like Google's more, their opacity could cause real problems\u2014like the still-mysterious machine-driven \"flash crash\" that caused the Dow to drop 600 points in a few minutes on May 6, 2010.\n\nIn a provocative article in _Wired,_ editor-in-chief Chris Anderson argued that huge databases render scientific theory itself obsolete. Why spend time formulating human-language hypotheses, after all, when you can quickly analyze trillions of bits of data and find the clusters and correlations? He quotes Peter Norvig, Google's research director: \"All models are wrong, and increasingly you can succeed without them.\" There's plenty to be said for this approach, but it's worth remembering the downside: Machines may be able to see results without models, but humans can't understand without them. There's value in making the processes that run our lives comprehensible to the humans who, at least in theory, are their beneficiaries.\n\nSupercomputer inventor Danny Hillis once said that the greatest achievement of human technology is tools that allow us to create more than we understand. That's true, but the same trait is also the source of our greatest disasters. The more the code driving personalization comes to resemble the complexity of human cognition, the harder it'll be to understand why or how it's making the decisions it makes. A simple coded rule that bars people from one group or class from certain kinds of access is easy to spot, but when the same action is the result of a swirling mass of correlations in a global supercomputer, it's a trickier problem. And the result is that it's harder to hold these systems and their tenders accountable for their actions.\n\n#  **No Such Thing as a Free Virtual Lunch**\n\nIn January 2009, if you were listening to one of twenty-five radio stations in Mexico, you might have heard the accordion ballad \"El m\u00e1s grande enemigo.\" Though the tune is polka-ish and cheery, the lyrics depict a tragedy: a migrant seeks to illegally cross the border, is betrayed by his handler, and is left in the blistering desert sun to die. Another song from the _Migra corridos_ album tells a different piece of the same sad tale:\n\n _To cross the border_   \n_I got in the back of a trailer_   \n_There I shared my sorrows_   \n_With forty other immigrants_   \n_I was never told_   \n_That this was a trip to hell._\n\nIf the lyrics aren't exactly subtle about the dangers of crossing the border, that's the point. _Migra corridos_ was produced by a contractor working for the U.S. Border Control, as part of a campaign to stem the tide of immigrants along the border. The song is a prime example of a growing trend in what marketers delicately call \"advertiser-funded media,\" or AFM.\n\nProduct placement has been in vogue for decades, and AFM is its natural next step. Advertisers love product placement because in a media environment in which it's harder and harder to get people to pay attention to anything\u2014especially ads\u2014it provides a kind of loophole. You can't fast-forward past product placement. You can't miss it without missing some of the actual content. AFM is just a natural extension of the same logic: Media have always been vehicles for selling products, the argument goes, so why not just cut out the middleman and have product makers produce the content themselves?\n\nIn 2010, Walmart and Procter & Gamble announced a partnership to produce _Secrets of the Mountain_ and _The Jensen Project,_ family movies that will feature characters using the companies' products throughout. Michael Bay, the director of _Transformers,_ has started a new company called the Institute, whose tagline is \"Where Brand Science Meets Great Storytelling.\" _Hansel and Gretel in 3-D,_ its first feature production, will be specially crafted to provide product-placement hooks throughout.\n\nNow that the video-game industry is far more profitable than the movie industry, it provides a huge opportunity for in game advertising and product placement as well. Massive Incorporated, a game advertising platform acquired by Microsoft for $200 million to $400 million, has placed ads on in game billboards and city walls for companies like Cingular and McDonald's, and has the capacity to track which individual users saw which advertisements for how long. Splinter Cell, a game by UBIsoft, works placement for products like Axe deodorant into the architecture of the cityscape that characters travel through.\n\nEven books aren't immune. _Cathy's Book_ , a young-adult title published in September 2006, has its heroine applying \"a killer coat of Lipslicks in 'Daring.' \"That's not a coincidence\u2014 _Cathy's Book_ was published by Procter & Gamble, the corporate owner of Lipslicks.\n\nIf the product placement and advertiser-funded media industries continue to grow, personalization will offer whole new vistas of possibility. Why name-drop Lipslicks when your reader is more likely to buy Cover Girl? Why have a video-game chase scene through Macy's when the guy holding the controller is more of an Old Navy type? When software engineers talk about architecture, they're usually talking metaphorically. But as people spend more of their time in virtual, personalizable places, there's no reason that these worlds can't change to suit users' preferences. Or, for that matter, a corporate sponsor's.\n\n#  **A Shifting World**\n\nThe enriched psychological models and new data flows measuring everything from heart rate to music choices open up new frontiers for online personalization, in which what changes isn't just a choice of products or news clips, but the look and feel of the site on which they're displayed.\n\nWhy _should_ Web sites look the same to every viewer or customer? Different people don't respond only to different products\u2014they respond to different design sensibilities, different colors, even different types of product descriptions. It's easy enough to imagine a Walmart Web site with softened edges and warm pastels for some customers and a hard-edged, minimalist design for others. And once that capacity exists, why stick with just one design per customer? Maybe it's best to show me one side of the Walmart brand when I'm angry and another when I'm happy.\n\nThis kind of approach isn't a futuristic fantasy. A team led by John Hauser at MIT's business school has developed the basic techniques for what they call Web site morphing, in which a shopping site analyzes users' clicks to figure out what kinds of information and styles of presentation are most effective and then adjusts the layout to suit a particular user's cognitive style. Hauser estimates that Web sites that morph can increase \"purchase intentions\" by 21 percent. Industrywide, that's worth billions. And what starts with the sale of consumer products won't end there: News and entertainment sources that morph ought to enjoy an advantage as well.\n\nOn one hand, morphing makes us feel more at home on the Web. Drawing from the data we provide, every Web site can feel like an old friend. But it also opens the door to a strange, dreamlike world, in which our environment is constantly rearranging itself behind our backs. And like a dream, it may be less and less possible to share with people outside of it\u2014that is, everyone else.\n\nThanks to augmented reality, that experience may soon be par for the course offline as well.\n\n\"On the modern battlefield,\" Raytheon Avionics manager Todd Lovell told a reporter _,_ \"there is way more data out there than most people can use. If you are just trying to see it all through your eyes and read it in bits and bites, you're never going to understand it. So the key to the modern technology is to take all that data and turn it into useful information that the pilot can recognize very quickly and act upon.\" What Google does for online information, Lovell's Scorpion project aims to do for the real world.\n\nFitting like a monocle over one of a jet pilot's eyes, the Scorpion display device annotates what a pilot sees in real time. It color-codes potential threats, highlights when and where the aircraft has a missile lock, assists with night vision, and reduces the need for pilots to look at a dashboard in an environment where every microsecond matters. \"It turns the whole world into a display,\" jet pilot Paul Mancini told the Associated Press.\n\nThis is augmented-reality technology, and it's moving rapidly from the cockpits of jet planes to consumer devices that can tune out the noise and turn up the signal of everyday life. Using your iPhone camera and an app developed by Yelp, the restaurant recommendation service, you can see eateries' ratings haphazardly displayed over their real-world storefronts. A new kind of noise-canceling headphone can sense and amplify human voices while tuning other street or airplane noise down to a whisper. The Meadowlands football stadium is spending $100 million on new applications that give fans who attend games in person the ability to slice and dice the game in real time, view key statistics as they happen, and watch the action unfold from a variety of angles\u2014the full high-information TV experience overlaid on a real game.\n\nAt DARPA, the defense research and development agency, technologies are being developed that make Scorpion look positively quaint. Since 2002, DARPA has been pushing forward research in what it calls augmented cognition, or AugCog, which uses cognitive neuroscience and brain imaging to figure out how best to route important information into the brain. AugCog begins with the premise that there are basic limits as to how many tasks a person can juggle at a time, and that \"this capacity itself may fluctuate from moment to moment depending on a host of factors including mental fatigue, novelty, boredom and stress.\"\n\nBy monitoring activity in brain areas associated with memory, decision making, and the like, AugCog devices can figure out how to make sure to highlight the information that most matters. If you're absorbing as much visual input as you can, the system might decide to send an audio alert instead. One trial, according to the _Economist,_ gave users of an AugCog device a 100 percent improvement in recall and a 500 percent increase in working memory. And if it sounds far-fetched, just remember: The folks at DARPA also helped invent the Internet.\n\nAugmented reality is a booming field, and Gary Hayes, a personalization and augmented-reality expert in Australia, sees at least sixteen different ways it could be used to provide services and make money. In his vision, guide companies could offer augmented reality tours, in which information about buildings, museum artifacts, and streets is superimposed on the environs. Shoppers could use phone apps to immediately get readouts on products they're interested in\u2014including what the objects cost elsewhere. (Amazon.com already provides a rudimentary version of this service.) Augmented reality games could layer clues into real-world environments.\n\nAugmented-reality tech provides value, but it also provides an opportunity to reach people with new attention-getting forms of advertising. For a price, digital sportscasts are already capable of layering corporate logos onto football fields. But this new technology offers the opportunity to do that in a personalized way in the real world: You turn on the app to, say, help find a friend in a crowd, and projected onto a nearby building is a giant Coke ad featuring your face and your name.\n\nAnd when you combine the personalized filtering of what we see and hear with, say, face recognition, things get pretty interesting: You begin to be able to filter not just information, but people.\n\nAs the cofounder of OkCupid, one of the Web's most popular dating sites, Chris Coyne has been thinking about filtering for people for a while. Coyne speaks in an energetic, sincere manner, furrowing his brows when he's thinking and waving his hands to illustrate. As a math major, he got interested in how to use algorithms to solve problems for people.\n\n\"There are lots of ways you can use math to do things that turn a profit,\" he told me over a steaming bowl of bibimbap in New York's Koreatown. Many of his classmates went off to high-paid jobs at hedge funds. \"But,\" he said, \"what we were interested in was using it to make people happy.\" And what better way to make people happy than to help them fall in love?\n\nThe more Coyne and his college hallmates Sam Yeager and Max Krohn looked at other dating sites, the more annoyed they got: It was clear that other dating sites were more interested in getting people to pay for credits than to hook up. And once you did pay, you'd often see profiles of people who were no longer on the site or who would never write you back.\n\nCoyne and his team decided to approach the problem with math. The service would be free. Instead of offering a one-sizefits-all solution, they'd use number crunching to develop a personalized matching algorithm for each person on the site. And just as Google optimizes for clicks, they'd do everything they could to maximize the likelihood of real conversations\u2014if you could solve for that, they figured, profits would follow. In essence, they built a modern search engine for mates.\n\nWhen you log on to OkCupid, you're asked a series of questions about yourself. Do you believe in God? Would you ever participate in a threesome? Does smoking disgust you? Would you sleep with someone on the first date? Do you have an STD? (Answer yes, and you get sent to another site.) You also indicate how you'd like a prospective partner to answer the same questions and how important their answers are to you. Using these questions, OkCupid builds a custom-weighted equation to figure out your perfect match. And when you search for people in your area, it uses the same algorithm to rank the likelihood of your getting along. OkCupid's powerful cluster of servers can rank ten thousand people with a two-hundred-question match model and return results in less than a tenth of a second.\n\nThey have to, because OkCupid's traffic is booming. Hundreds of thousands of answers to poll questions flow into their system each night. Thousands of new users sign up each day. And the system is getting better and better.\n\nLooking into the future, Coyne told me, you'll have people walking around with augmented displays. He described a guy on a night out: You walk into a bar, and a camera immediately scans the faces in the room and matches them against OkCupid's databases. \"Your accessories can say, that girl over there is an eighty-eight percent match. That's a dream come true!\"\n\nVladimir Nabokov once commented that \"reality\" is \"one of the few words that mean nothing without quotes.\" Coyne's vision may soon be our \"reality.\" There's tremendous promise in this vision: Surgeons who never miss a suture, soldiers who never imperil civilians, and everywhere a more informed, information-dense world. But there's also danger: Augmented reality represents the end of naive empiricism, of the world as we see it, and the beginning of something far more mutable and weird: a real-world filter bubble that will be increasingly difficult to escape.\n\n#  **Losing Control**\n\nThere's plenty to love about this ubiquitously personalized future.\n\nSmart devices, from vacuum cleaners to lightbulbs to picture frames, offer the promise that our environments will be exactly the way we want them, wherever we are. In the near future, ambient-intelligence expert David Wright suggests, we might even carry our room-lighting preferences with us; when there are multiple people in a room, a consensus could be automatically reached by averaging preferences and weighting for who's the host.\n\nAugCog-enabled devices will help us track the data streams that we consider most important. In some situations\u2014say, medical or fire alerts that find ways to escalate until they capture our attention\u2014they could save lives. And while brainwave-reading AugCog is probably some way off for the masses, consumer variants of the basic concept are already being put into place. Google's Gmail Priority Inbox, which screens e-mails and highlights the ones it assesses as more important, is an early riff on the theme. Meanwhile, augmented-reality filters offer the possibility of an annotated and hyperlinked reality, in which what we see is infused with information that allows us to work better, assimilate information more quickly, and make better decisions.\n\nThat's the good side. But there's always a bargain in personalization: In exchange for convenience, you hand over some privacy and control to the machine.\n\nAs personal data become more and more valuable, the behavioral data market described in chapter 1 is likely to explode. When a clothing company determines that knowing your favorite color produces a $5 increase in sales, it has an economic basis for pricing that data point\u2014and for other Web sites to find reasons to ask you. (While OkCupid is mum about its business model, it likely rests on offering advertisers the ability to target its users based on the hundreds of personal questions they answer.)\n\nWhile many of these data acquisitions will be legitimate, some won't be. Data are uniquely suited to gray-market activities, because they need not carry any trace of where they have come from or where they have been along the way. Wright calls this data laundering, and it's already well under way: Spyware and spam companies sell questionably derived data to middlemen, who then add it to the databases powering the marketing campaigns of major corporations.\n\nMoreover, because the transformations applied to your data are often opaque, it's not always clear exactly what decisions are being made on your behalf, by whom, or to what end. This matters plenty when we're talking about information streams, but it matters even more when this power is infused into our sensory apparatus itself.\n\nIn 2000, Bill Joy, the Sun Microsystems cofounder, wrote a piece for _Wired_ magazine titled \"Why the Future Doesn't Need Us.\" \"As society and the problems that face it become more and more complex and machines become more and more intelligent,\" he wrote, \"people will let machines make more of their decisions for them, simply because machine-made decisions will bring better results than man-made ones.\"\n\nThat may often be the case: Machine-driven systems do provide significant value. The whole promise of these technologies is that they give us more freedom and more control over our world\u2014lights that respond to our whims and moods, screens and overlays that allow us to attend only to the people we want to, so that we don't have to do the busywork of living. The irony is that they offer this freedom and control by taking it away. It's one thing when a remote control's array of buttons elides our ability to do something basic like flip the channels. It's another thing when what the remote controls is our lives.\n\nIt's fair to guess that the technology of the future will work about as well as the technology of the past\u2014which is to say, well enough, but not perfectly. There will be bugs. There will be dislocations and annoyances. There will be breakdowns that cause us to question whether the whole system was worth it in the first place. And we'll live with the threat that systems made to support us will be turned against us\u2014that a clever hacker who cracks the baby monitor now has a surveillance device, that someone who can interfere with what we see can expose us to danger. The more power we have over our own environments, the more power someone who assumes the controls has over us.\n\nThat is why it's worth keeping the basic logic of these systems in mind: You don't get to create your world on your own. You live in an equilibrium between your own desires and what the market will bear. And while in many cases this provides for healthier, happier lives, it also provides for the commercialization of everything\u2014even of our sensory apparatus itself. There are few things uglier to contemplate than AugCog-enabled ads that escalate until they seize control of your attention.\n\nWe're compelled to return to Jaron Lanier's question: For whom do these technologies work? If history is any guide, we may not be the primary customer. And as technology gets better and better at directing our attention, we need to watch closely what it is directing our attention toward.\n**8**\n\n**Escape from the City of Ghettos**\n\nIn order to find his own self, [a person] also needs to live in a milieu where the possibility of many different value systems is explicitly recognized and honored. More specifically, he needs a great variety of choices so that he is not misled about the nature of his own person.\n\n\u2014 _Christopher Alexander_ et al., _A Pattern Language_\n\n**I** n theory, there's never been a structure more capable of allowing all of us to shoulder the responsibility for understanding and managing our world than the Internet. But in practice, the Internet is headed in a different direction. Sir Tim Berners-Lee, the creator of the World Wide Web, captured the gravity of this threat in a recent call to arms in the pages of _Scientific American_ titled \"Long Live the Web.\" \"The Web as we know it,\" he wrote, \"is being threatened.... Some of its most successful inhabitants have begun to chip away at its principles. Large social-networking sites are walling off information posted by their users from the rest of the Web.... Governments\u2014totalitarian and democratic alike\u2014are monitoring people's online habits, endangering important human rights. If we, the Web's users, allow these and other trends to proceed unchecked, the Web could be broken into fragmented islands.\"\n\nIn this book, I've argued that the rise of pervasive, embedded filtering is changing the way we experience the Internet and ultimately the world. At the center of this transformation is the fact that for the first time it's possible for a medium to figure out who you are, what you like, and what you want. Even if the personalizing code isn't always spot-on, it's accurate enough to be profitable, not just by delivering better ads but also by adjusting the substance of what we read, see, and hear.\n\nAs a result, while the Internet offers access to a dazzling array of sources and options, in the filter bubble we'll miss many of them. While the Internet can give us new opportunities to grow and experiment with our identities, the economics of personalization push toward a static conception of personhood. While the Internet has the potential to decentralize knowledge and control, in practice it's concentrating control over what we see and what opportunities we're offered in the hands of fewer people than ever before.\n\nOf course, there are some advantages to the rise of the personalized Internet. I enjoy using Pandora, Netflix, and Facebook as much as the next person. I appreciate Google's shortcuts through the information jungle (and couldn't have written this book without them). But what's troubling about this shift toward personalization is that it's largely invisible to users and, as a result, out of our control. We are not even aware that we're seeing increasingly divergent images of the Internet. The Internet may know who we are, but we don't know who it thinks we are or how it's using that information. Technology designed to give us more control over our lives is actually taking control away.\n\nUltimately, Sun Microsystems cofounder Bill Joy told me, information systems have to be judged on their public outcomes. \"If what the Internet does is spread around a lot of information, fine, but what did that cause to happen?\" he asked. If it's not helping us solve the really big problems, what good is it? \"We really need to address the core issues: climate change, political instability in Asia and the Middle East, demographic problems, and the decline of the middle class. In the context of problems of this magnitude, you'd hope that a new constituency would emerge, but there's a distraction overlay\u2014false issues, entertainment, gaming. If our system, with all the freedom of choice, is not addressing the problems, something's wrong.\"\n\nSomething _is_ wrong with our media. But the Internet isn't doomed, for a simple reason: This new medium is nothing if not plastic. Its great strength, in fact, is its capacity for change. Through a combination of individual action, corporate responsibility, and governmental regulation, it's still possible to shift course.\n\n\"We create the Web,\" Sir Tim Berners-Lee wrote. \"We choose what properties we want it to have and not have. It is by no means finished (and it's certainly not dead).\" It's still possible to build information systems that introduce us to new ideas, that push us in new ways. It's still possible to create media that show us what we don't know, rather than reflecting what we do. It's still possible to erect systems that don't trap us in an endless loop of self-flattery about our own interests or shield us from fields of inquiry that aren't our own.\n\nFirst, however, we need a vision\u2014a sense of what to aim for.\n\n#  **The Mosaic of Subcultures**\n\nIn 1975, architect Christopher Alexander and a team of colleagues began publishing a series of books that would change the face of urban planning, design, and programming. The most famous volume, _A Pattern Language,_ is a guidebook that reads like a religious text. It's filled with quotes and aphorisms and hand-drawn sketches, a bible guiding devotees toward a new way of thinking about the world.\n\nThe question that had consumed Alexander and his team during eight years of research was the question of why some places thrived and \"worked\" while others didn't\u2014why some cities and neighborhoods and houses flourished, while others were grim and desolate. The key, Alexander argued, was that design has to fit its literal and cultural context. And the best way to ensure that, they concluded, was to use a \"pattern language,\" a set of design specifications for human spaces.\n\nEven for nonarchitects, the book is an entrancing read. There's a pattern that describes the ideal nook for kids (the ceiling should be between 2 feet 6 inches and 4 feet high), and another for High Places \"where you can look down and survey your world.\" \"Every society which is alive and whole,\" Alexander wrote, \"will have its own unique and distinct pattern language.\"\n\nSome of the book's most intriguing sections illuminate the patterns that successful cities are built on. Alexander imagines two metropolises\u2014the \"heterogeneous city,\" where people are mixed together irrespective of lifestyle and background, and the \"city of ghettos,\" where people are grouped together tightly by category. The heterogeneous city \"seems rich,\" Alexander writes, but \"actually it dampens all significant variety, and arrests most of the possibilities for differentiation.\" Though there's a diverse mix of peoples and cultures, all of the parts of the city are diverse in the same way. Shaped by the lowest common cultural denominators, the city looks the same everywhere you go.\n\nMeanwhile, in the city of ghettos, some people get trapped in the small world of a single subculture that doesn't really represent who they are. Without connections and overlap between communities, subcultures that make up the city don't evolve. As a result, the ghettos breed stagnation and intolerance.\n\nBut Alexander offers a third possibility: a happy medium between closed ghettos and the undifferentiated mass of the heterogeneous city. He called it the mosaic of subcultures. In order to achieve this kind of city, Alexander explains, designers should encourage neighborhoods with cultural character, \"but though these subcultures must be sharp and distinct and separate, they must not be closed; they must be readily accessible to one another, so that a person can move easily from one to another, and can settle in the one which suits him best.\" Alexander's mosaic is based on two premises about human life: First, a person can only fully become him- or herself in a place where he or she \"receives support for his idiosyncrasies from the people and values which surround him.\" And second, as the quotation at the beginning of this chapter suggests, you have to see lots of ways of living in order to choose the best life for yourself. This is what the best cities do: They cultivate a vibrant array of cultures and allow their citizens to find their way to the neighborhoods and traditions in which they're most at home.\n\nAlexander was writing about cities, but what's beautiful about _A Pattern Language_ is that it can be applied to any space in which humans gather and live\u2014including the Internet. Online communities and niches are important. They're the places where new ideas and styles and themes and even languages get formed and tested. They're the places where we can feel most at home. An Internet built like the heterogeneous city described by Alexander wouldn't be a very pleasant place to be\u2014a whirling chaos of facts and ideas and communications. But by the same token, nobody wants to live in the city of ghettos\u2014and that's where personalization, if it's too acute, will take us. At its worst, the filter bubble confines us to our own information neighborhood, unable to see or explore the rest of the enormous world of possibilities that exist online. We need our online urban planners to strike a balance between relevance and serendipity, between the comfort of seeing friends and the exhilaration of meeting strangers, between cozy niches and wide open spaces.\n\n#  **What Individuals Can Do**\n\nSocial-media researcher danah boyd was right when she warned that we are at risk of the \"psychological equivalent of obesity.\" And while creating a healthy information diet requires action on the part of the companies that supply the food, that doesn't work unless we also change our own habits. Corn syrup vendors aren't likely to change their practices until consumers demonstrate that they're looking for something else.\n\nHere's one place to start: Stop being a mouse.\n\nOn an episode of the radio program _This American Life,_ host Ira Glass investigates how to build a better mousetrap. He talks to Andy Woolworth, the man at the world's largest mousetrap manufacturer who fields ideas for new trap designs. The proposed ideas vary from the impractical (a trap that submerges the mouse in antifreeze, which then needs to be thrown out by the bucket) to the creepy (a design that kills rodents using, yes, gas pellets).\n\nBut the punch line is that they're all unnecessary. Woolworth has an easy job, because the existing traps are very cheap and work within a day 88 percent of the time. Mousetraps work because mice generally establish a food-seeking route within ten feet of where they are, returning to it up to thirty times a day. Place a trap in its vicinity, and chances are very good that you'll catch your mouse.\n\nMost of us are pretty mouselike in our information habits. I admittedly am: There are three or four Web sites that I check frequently each day, and I rarely vary them or add new ones to my repertoire. \"Whether we live in Calcutta or San Francisco,\" Matt Cohler told me, \"we all kinda do the same thing over and over again most of the time. And jumping out of that recursion loop is not easy to do.\" Habits are hard to break. But just as you notice more about the place you live when you take a new route to work, varying your path online dramatically increases your likelihood of encountering new ideas and people.\n\nJust by stretching your interests in new directions, you give the personalizing code more breadth to work with. Someone who shows interest in opera and comic books and South African politics and Tom Cruise is harder to pigeonhole than someone who just shows interest in one of those things. And by constantly moving the flashlight of your attention to the perimeter of your understanding, you enlarge your sense of the world.\n\nGoing off the beaten track is scary at first, but the experiences we have when we come across new ideas, people, and cultures are powerful. They make us feel human. Serendipity is a shortcut to joy.\n\nFor some of the \"identity cascade\" problems discussed in chapter 5, regularly erasing the cookies your Internet browser uses to identify who you are is a partial cure. Most browsers these days make erasing cookies pretty simple\u2014you just select Options or Preferences and then choose Erase cookies. And many personalized ad networks are offering consumers the option to opt out. I'm posting an updated and more detailed list of places to opt out on the Web site for this book, www.thefilterbubble.com.\n\nBut because personalization is more or less unavoidable, opting out entirely isn't a particularly viable route for most of us. You can run all of your online activities in an \"incognito\" window, where less of your personal information is stored, but it'll be increasingly impractical\u2014many services simply won't work the way they're supposed to. (This is why, as I describe below, I don't think the Do Not Track list currently under consideration by the FTC is a viable strategy.) And of course, Google personalizes based on your Internet address, location, and a number of other factors even if you're entirely logged out and on a brand-new laptop.\n\nA better approach is to choose to use sites that give users more control and visibility over how their filters work and how they use your personal information.\n\nFor example, consider the difference between Twitter and Facebook. In many ways, the two sites are very similar. They both offer people the opportunity to share blips of information and links to videos, news, and photographs. They both offer the opportunity to hear from the people you want to hear from and screen out the people you don't.\n\nBut Twitter's universe is based on a few very simple, mostly transparent rules\u2014what one Twitter supporter called \"a thin layer of regulation.\" Unless you go out of your way to lock your account, everything you do is public to everyone. You can subscribe to anyone's feed that you like without their permission, and then you see a time-ordered stream of updates that includes everything everyone you're following says.\n\nIn comparison, the rules that govern Facebook's information universe are maddeningly opaque and seem to change almost daily. If you post a status update, your friends may or may not see it, and you may or may not see theirs. (This is true even in the Most Recent view that many users assume shows all of the updates\u2014it doesn't.) Different types of content are likely to show up at different rates\u2014if you post a video, for example, it's more likely to be seen by your friends than a status update. And the information you share with the site itself is private one day and public the next. There's no excuse, for example, for asking users to declare which Web sites they're \"fans\" of with the promise that it'll be shown only to their friends, and then releasing that information to the world, as Facebook did in 2009.\n\nBecause Twitter operates on the basis of a few simple, easily understandable rules, it's also less susceptible to what venture capitalist Brad Burnham (whose Union Square Ventures was Twitter's primary early investor) calls the tyranny of the default. There's great power in setting the default option when people are given a choice. Dan Ariely, the behavioral economist, illustrates the principle with a chart showing organ donation rates in different European countries. In England, the Netherlands, and Austria, the rates hover around 10 percent to 15 percent, but in France, Germany, and Belgium, donation rates are in the high 90s. Why? In the first set of countries, you have to check a box giving permission for your organs to be donated. In the second, you have to check a box to say you _won't_ give permission.\n\nIf people will let defaults determine the fate of our friends who need lungs and hearts, we'll certainly let them determine how we share information a lot of the time. That's not because we're stupid. It's because we're busy, have limited attention with which to make decisions, and generally trust that if everyone else is doing something, it's OK for us to do it too. But this trust is often misplaced. Facebook has wielded this power with great intentionality\u2014shifting the defaults on privacy settings in order to encourage masses of people to make their posts more public. And because software architects clearly understand the power of the default and use it to make their services more profitable, their claim that users _can_ opt out of giving their personal information seems somewhat disingenuous. With fewer rules and a more transparent system, there are fewer defaults to set.\n\nFacebook's PR department didn't return my e-mails requesting an interview (perhaps because MoveOn's critical view of Facebook's privacy practices is well known). But it would probably argue that it gives its users far more choice and control about how they use the service than Twitter does. And it's true that Facebook's options control panel lists scores of different options for Facebook users.\n\nBut to give people control, you have to make clearly evident what the options are, because options largely exist only to the degree that they're perceived. This is the problem many of us used to face in programming our VCRs: The devices had all sorts of functions, but figuring out how to make them do anything was an afternoon-long exercise in frustration. When it comes to important tasks like protecting your privacy and adjusting your filters online, saying that you can figure it out if you read the manual for long enough isn't a sufficient answer.\n\nIn short, at the time of this writing, Twitter makes it pretty straightforward to manage your filter and understand what's showing up and why, whereas Facebook makes it nearly impossible. All other things being equal, if you're concerned about having control over your filter bubble, better to use services like Twitter than services like Facebook.\n\nWe live in an increasingly algorithmic society, where our public functions, from police databases to energy grids to schools, run on code. We need to recognize that societal values about justice, freedom, and opportunity are embedded in how code is written and what it solves for. Once we understand that, we can begin to figure out which variables we care about and imagine how we might solve for something different.\n\nFor example, advocates looking to solve the problem of political gerrymandering\u2014the backroom process of carving up electoral districts to favor one party or another\u2014have long suggested that we replace the politicians involved with software. It sounds pretty good: Start with some basic principles, input population data, and out pops a new political map. But it doesn't necessarily solve the basic problem, because what the algorithm solves for has political consequences: Whether the software aims to group by cities or ethnic groups or natural boundaries can determine which party keeps its seats in Congress and which doesn't. And if the public doesn't pay close attention to what the algorithm is doing, it could have the opposite of the intended effect\u2014sanctioning a partisan deal with the imprimatur of \"neutral\" code.\n\nIn other words, it's becoming more important to develop a basic level of algorithmic literacy. Increasingly, citizens will have to pass judgment on programmed systems that affect our public and national life. And even if you're not fluent enough to read through thousands of lines of code, the building-block concepts\u2014how to wrangle variables, loops, and memory\u2014can illuminate how these systems work and where they might make errors.\n\nEspecially at the beginning, learning the basics of programming is even more rewarding than learning a foreign language. With a few hours and a basic platform, you can have that \"Hello, World!\" experience and start to see your ideas come alive. And within a few weeks, you can be sharing these ideas with the whole Web. Mastery, as in any profession, takes much longer, but the payoff for a limited investment in coding is fairly large: It doesn't take long to become literate enough to understand what most basic bits of code are doing.\n\nChanging our own behavior is a part of the process of bursting the filter bubble. But it's of limited use unless the companies that are propelling personalization forward change as well.\n\n#  **What Companies Can Do**\n\nIt's understandable that, given their meteoric rises, the Googles and Facebooks of the online world have been slow to realize their responsibilities. But it's critical that they recognize their public responsibility soon. It's no longer sufficient to say that the personalized Internet is just a function of relevance-seeking machines doing their job.\n\nThe new filterers can start by making their filtering systems more transparent to the public, so that it's possible to have a discussion about how they're exercising their responsibilities in the first place.\n\nAs Larry Lessig says, \"A political response is possible only when regulation is transparent.\" And there's more than a little irony in the fact that companies whose public ideologies revolve around openness and transparency are so opaque themselves.\n\nFacebook, Google, and their filtering brethren claim that to reveal anything about their algorithmic processes would be to give away business secrets. But that defense is less convincing than it sounds at first. Both companies' primary advantage lies in the extraordinary number of people who trust them and use their services (remember lock-in?). According to Danny Sullivan's Search Engine Land blog, Bing's search results are \"highly competitive\" with Google's, but it has a fraction of its more powerful rival's users. It's not a matter of math that keeps Google ahead, but the sheer number of people who use it every day. PageRank and the other major pieces of Google's search engine are \"actually one of the world's worst kept secrets,\" says Google fellow Amit Singhal.\n\nGoogle has also argued that it needs to keep its search algorithm under tight wraps because if it was known it'd be easier to game. But open systems are harder to game than closed ones, precisely because everyone shares an interest in closing loopholes. The open-source operating system Linux, for example, is actually more secure and harder to penetrate with a virus than closed ones like Microsoft's Windows or Apple's OS X.\n\nWhether or not it makes the filterers' products more secure or efficient, keeping the code under tight wraps does do one thing: It shields these companies from accountability for the decisions they're making, because the decisions are difficult to see from the outside. But even if full transparency proves impossible, it's possible for these companies to shed more light on how they approach sorting and filtering problems.\n\nFor one thing, Google and Facebook and other new media giants could draw inspiration from the history of newspaper ombudsmen, which became a newsroom topic in the mid-1960s.\n\nPhilip Foisie, an executive at the _Washington Post_ company, wrote one of the most memorable memos arguing for the practice. \"It is not enough to say,\" he suggested, \"that our paper, as it appears each morning, is its own credo, that ultimately we are our own ombudsman. It has not proven to be, possibly cannot be. Even if it were, it would not be viewed as such. It is too much to ask the reader to believe that we are capable of being honest and objective about ourselves.\" The _Post_ found his argument compelling, and hired its first ombudsman in 1970.\n\n\"We know the media is a great dichotomy,\" said the longtime _Sacramento Bee_ ombudsman Arthur Nauman in a speech in 1994. On the one hand, he said, media has to operate as a successful business that provides a return on investment. \"But on the other hand, it is a public trust, a kind of public utility. It is an institution invested with enormous power in the community, the power to affect thoughts and actions by the way it covers the news\u2014the power to hurt or help the common good.\" It is this spirit that the new media would do well to channel. Appointing an independent ombudsman and giving the world more insight into how the powerful filtering algorithms work would be an important first step.\n\nTransparency doesn't mean only that the guts of a system are available for public view. As the Twitter versus Facebook dichotomy demonstrates, it also means that individual users intuitively understand how the system works. And that's a necessary precondition for people to control and use these tools\u2014rather than having the tools control and use us.\n\nTo start with, we ought to be able to get a better sense of who these sites think we are. Google claims to make this possible with a \"dashboard\"\u2014a single place to monitor and manage all of this data. In practice, its confusing and multitiered design makes it almost impossible for an average user to navigate and understand. Facebook, Amazon, and other companies don't allow users to download a complete compilation of their data in the United States, though privacy laws in Europe force them to. It's an entirely reasonable expectation that data that users provide to companies ought to be available to us, and that this expectation is one that, according to the University of California at Berkeley, most Americans share. We ought to be able to say, \"You're wrong. Perhaps I used to be a surfer, or a fan of comics, or a Democrat, but I'm not any more.\"\n\nKnowing what information the personalizers have on us isn't enough. They also need to do a much better job explaining how they use the data\u2014what bits of information are personalized, to what degree, and on what basis. A visitor to a personalized news site could be given the option of seeing how many other visitors were seeing which articles\u2014even perhaps a colorcoded visual map of the areas of commonality and divergence. Of course, this requires admitting to the user that personalization is happening in the first place, and there are strong reasons in some cases for businesses not to do so. But they're mostly commercial reasons, not ethical ones.\n\nThe Interactive Advertising Bureau is already pushing in this direction. An industry trade group for the online advertising community, the IAB has concluded that unless personalized ads disclose to users how they're personalized, consumers will get angry and demand federal regulation. So it's encouraging its members to include a set of icons on every ad to indicate what personal data the ad draws on and how to change or opt out of this feature set. As content providers incorporate the personalization techniques pioneered by direct marketers and advertisers, they should consider incorporating these safeguards as well.\n\nEven then, sunlight doesn't solve the problem unless it's coupled with a focus in these companies on optimizing for different variables: more serendipity, a more humanistic and nuanced sense of identity, and an active promotion of public issues and cultivation of citizenship.\n\nAs long as computers lack consciousness, empathy, and intelligence, much will be lost in the gap between our actual selves and the signals that can be rendered into personalized environments. And as I discussed in chapter 5, personalization algorithms can cause identity loops, in which what the code knows about you constructs your media environment, and your media environment helps to shape your future preferences. This is an avoidable problem, but it requires crafting an algorithm that prioritizes \"falsifiability,\" that is, an algorithm that aims to _dis_ prove its idea of who you are. (If Amazon harbors a hunch that you're a crime novel reader, for example, it could actively present you with choices from other genres to fill out its sense of who you are.)\n\nCompanies that hold great curatorial power also need to do more to cultivate public space and citizenship. To be fair, they're already doing some of this: Visitors to Facebook on November 2, 2010, were greeted by a banner asking them to indicate if they'd voted. Those who had voted shared this news with their friends; because some people vote because of social pressure, it's quite possible that Facebook increased the number of voters. Likewise, Google has been doing strong work to make information about polling locations more open and easily available, and featured its tool on its home page on the same day. Whether or not this is profit-seeking behavior (a \"find your polling place\" feature would presumably be a terrific place for political advertising), both projects drew the attention of users toward political engagement and citizenship.\n\nA number of the engineers and technology journalists I talked to raised their eyebrows when I asked them if personalizing algorithms could do a better job on this front. After all, one said, who's to say what's important? For Google engineers to place a value on some kinds of information over others, another suggested, would be unethical\u2014though of course this is precisely what the engineers themselves do all the time.\n\nTo be clear, I don't yearn to go back to the good old days when a small group of all-powerful editors unilaterally decided what was important. Too many actually important stories (the genocide in Rwanda, for example) fell through the cracks, while too many actually unimportant ones got front-page coverage. But I also don't think we should jettison that approach altogether. Yahoo News suggests there is some possibility for middle ground: The team combines algorithmic personalization with old-school editorial leadership. Some stories are visible to everyone because they're surpassingly important. Others show up for some users and not others. And while the editorial team at Yahoo spends a lot of time interpreting click data and watching which articles do well and which don't, they're not subservient to it. \"Our editors think of the audience as people with interests, as opposed to a flood of directional data,\" a Yahoo News employee told me. \"As much as we love the data, it's being filtered by human beings who are thinking about what the heck it means. Why didn't the article on this topic we think is important for our readers to know about do better? How do we help it find a larger audience?\"\n\nAnd then there are fully algorithmic solutions. For example, why not rely on everyone's idea of what's important? Imagine for a moment that next to each Like button on Facebook was an Important button. You could tag items with one or the other or both. And Facebook could draw on a mix of both signals\u2014what people like, and what they think really matters\u2014to populate and personalize your news feed. You'd have to bet that news about Pakistan would be seen more often\u2014even accounting for everyone's quite subjective definition of what really matters. Collaborative filtering doesn't have to lead to compulsive media: The whole game is in what values the filters seek to pull out. Alternately, Google or Facebook could place a slider bar running from \"only stuff I like\" to \"stuff other people like that I'll probably hate\" at the top of search results and the News Feed, allowing users to set their own balance between tight personalization and a more diverse information flow. This approach would have two benefits: It would make clear that there's personalization going on, and it would place it more firmly in the user's control.\n\nThere's one more thing the engineers of the filter bubble can do. They can solve for serendipity, by designing filtering systems to expose people to topics outside their normal experience. This will often be in tension with pure optimization in the short term, because a personalization system with an element of randomness will (by definition) get fewer clicks. But as the problems of personalization become better known, it may be a good move in the long run\u2014consumers may choose systems that are good at introducing them to new topics. Perhaps what we need is a kind of anti-Netflix Prize\u2014a Serendipity Prize for systems that are the best at holding readers' attention while introducing them to new topics and ideas.\n\nIf this shift toward corporate responsibility seems improbable, it's not without precedent. In the mid-1800s, printing a newspaper was hardly a reputable business. Papers were fiercely partisan and recklessly ideological. They routinely altered facts to suit their owners' vendettas of the day, or just to add color. It was this culture of crass commercialism and manipulation that Walter Lippmann railed against in _Liberty and the News._\n\nBut as newspapers became highly profitable and highly important, they began to change. It became possible, in a few big cities, to run papers that weren't just chasing scandal and sensation\u2014in part, because their owners could afford not to. Courts started to recognize a public interest in journalism and rule accordingly. Consumers started to demand more scrupulous and rigorous editing.\n\nUrged on by Lippmann's writings, an editorial ethic began to take shape. It was never shared universally or followed as well as it could have been. It was always compromised by the business demands of newspapers' owners and shareholders. It failed outright repeatedly\u2014access to power brokers compromised truth telling, and the demands of advertisers overcame the demands of readers. But in the end, it succeeded, somehow, in seeing us through a century of turmoil.\n\nThe torch is now being passed to a new generation of curators, and we need them to pick it up and carry it with pride. We need programmers who will build public life and citizenship into the worlds they create. And we need users who will hold them to it when the pressure of monetization pulls them in a different direction.\n\n#  **What Governments and Citizens Can Do**\n\nThere's plenty that the companies that power the filter bubble can do to mitigate the negative consequences of personalization\u2014the ideas above are just a start. But ultimately, some of these problems are too important to leave in the hands of private actors with profit-seeking motives. That's where governments come in.\n\nUltimately, as Eric Schmidt told Stephen Colbert, Google is just a company. Even if there are ways of addressing these issues that don't hurt the bottom line\u2014which there may well be\u2014doing so simply isn't always going to be a top-level priority. As a result, after we've each done our part to pop the filter bubble, and after companies have done what they're willing to do, there's probably a need for government oversight to ensure that we control our online tools and not the other way around.\n\nIn his book _Republic.com_ , Cass Sunstein suggested a kind of \"fairness doctrine\" for the Internet, in which information aggregators have to expose their audiences to both sides. Though he later changed his mind, the proposal suggests one direction for regulation: Just require curators to behave in a public-oriented way, exposing their readers to diverse lines of argument. I'm skeptical, for some of the same reasons Sunstein abandoned the idea: Curation is a nuanced, dynamic thing, an art as much as a science, and it's hard to imagine how regulating editorial ethics wouldn't inhibit a great deal of experimentation, stylistic diversity, and growth.\n\nAs this book goes to press, the U.S. Federal Trade Commission is proposing a Do Not Track list, modeled after the highly successful Do Not Call list. At first blush, it sounds pretty good: It would set up a single place to opt out of the online tracking that fuels personalization. But Do Not Track would probably offer a binary choice\u2014either you're in or you're out\u2014and services that make money on tracking might simply disable themselves for Do Not Track list members. If most of the Internet goes dark for these people, they'll quickly leave the list. And as a result, the process could backfire\u2014\"proving\" that people don't care about tracking, when in fact what most of us want is more nuanced ways of asserting control.\n\nThe best leverage point, in my view, is in requiring companies to give us real control over our personal information. Ironically, although online personalization is relatively new, the principles that ought to support this leverage have been clear for decades. In 1973, the Department of Housing, Education, and Welfare under Nixon recommended that regulation center on what it called Fair Information Practices:\n\n\u2022 You should know who has your personal data, what data they have, and how it's used.\n\n\u2022 You should be able to prevent information collected about you for one purpose from being used for others.\n\n\u2022 You should be able to correct inaccurate information about you.\n\n\u2022 Your data should be secure.\n\nNearly forty years later, the principles are still basically right, and we're still waiting for them to be enforced. We can't wait much longer: In a society with an increasing number of knowledge workers, our personal data and \"personal brand\" are worth more than they ever have been. Especially if you're a blogger or a writer, if you make funny videos or music, or if you coach or consult for a living, your online data trail is one of your most valuable assets. But while it's illegal to use Brad Pitt's image to sell a watch without his permission, Facebook is free to use your name to sell one to your friends.\n\nIn courts around the world, information brokers are pushing this view\u2014\"everyone's better off if your online life is owned by us.\" They argue that the opportunities and control that consumers get by using their free tools outweigh the value of their personal data. But consumers are entirely unequipped to make this calculation\u2014while the control you gain is obvious, the control you lose (because, say, your personal data is used to deny you an opportunity down the road) is invisible. The asymmetry of understanding is vast.\n\nTo make matters worse, even if you carefully read a company's privacy policy and decide that giving over rights to your personal information is worth it under those conditions, most companies reserve the right to change the rules of the game at any time. Facebook, for example, promised its users that if they made a connection with a Page, that information would only be shared with their friends. But in 2010, it decided that all of that data should be made fully public; a clause in Facebook's privacy policy (as with many corporate privacy policies) allows it to change the rules _retroactively_. In effect, this gives them nearly unlimited power to dispatch personal data as they see fit.\n\nTo enforce Fair Information Practices, we need to start thinking of personal data as a kind of personal property and protecting our rights in it. Personalization is based on an economic transaction in which consumers are at an inherent disadvantage: While Google may know how much your race is worth to Google, you don't. And while the benefits are obvious (free e-mail!), the drawbacks (opportunities and content missed) are invisible. Thinking of personal information as a form of property would help make this a fairer market.\n\nAlthough personal information is property, it's a special kind of property, because you still have a vested interest in your own data long after it's been exposed. You probably wouldn't want consumers to be able to sell all of their personal data, in perpetuity. France's \"moral laws,\" in which artists retain some control over what's done with a piece after it's been sold, might be a better template. (Speaking of France, while European laws are much closer to Fair Information Practices in protecting personal information, by many accounts the enforcement is much worse, partly because it's much harder for individuals to sue for breaches of the laws.)\n\nMarc Rotenberg, executive director of the Electronic Privacy Information Center, says, \"We shouldn't have to accept as a starting point that we can't have free services on the Internet without major privacy violations.\" And this isn't just about privacy. It's also about how our data shapes the content and opportunities we see and don't see. And it's about being able to track and manage this constellation of data that represents our lives with the same ease that companies like Acxiom and Facebook already do.\n\nSilicon Valley technologists sometimes portray this as an unwinnable fight\u2014people have lost control of their personal data, they'll never regain it, and they just have to grow up and live with it. But legal requirements on personal information need not be foolproof in order to work, any more than legal requirements not to steal are useless because people sometimes still steal things and get away with it. The force of law adds friction to the transmission of some kinds of information\u2014and in many cases, a little friction changes a lot.\n\nAnd there are laws that do protect personal information even in this day and age. The Fair Credit Reporting Act, for example, ensures that credit agencies have to disclose their credit reports to consumers and notify consumers when they're discriminated against on the basis of reports. That's not much, but given that previously consumers couldn't even see if their credit report contained errors (and 70 percent do, according to U.S. PIRG), it's a step in the right direction.\n\nA bigger step would be putting in place an agency to oversee the use of personal information. The EU and most other industrial nations have this kind of oversight, but the United States has lingered behind, scattering responsibilities for protecting personal information among the Federal Trade Commission, the Commerce Department, and other agencies. As we enter the second decade of the twenty-first century, it's past time to take this concern seriously.\n\nNone of this is easy: Private data is a moving target, and the process of balancing consumers and citizens' interests against those of these companies will take a lot of fine-tuning. At worst, new laws could be more onerous than the practices they seek to prevent. But that's an argument for doing this right and doing it soon, before the companies who profit from private information have even greater incentives to try to block it from passing.\n\nGiven the money to be made and the power that money holds over the American legislative system, this shift won't be easy. So to rescue our digital environment from itself, we'll ultimately need a new constituency of digital environmentalists\u2014citizens of this new space we're all building who band together to protect what's great about it.\n\nIn the next few years, the rules that will govern the next decade or more of online life will be written. And the big online conglomerates are lining up to help write them. The communications giants who own the Internet's physical infrastructure have plenty of political clout. AT&T outranks oil companies and pharmaceutical companies as one of the top four corporate contributors to American politics. Intermediaries like Google get the importance of political influence, too: Eric Schmidt is a frequent White House visitor, and companies like Microsoft, Google, and Yahoo have spent millions on influence-mongering in Washington, D.C. Given all of the Web 2.0 hype about empowerment, it's ironic that the old adage still applies: In the fight for control of the Internet, everyone's organized but the people.\n\nBut that's only because most of us aren't in the fight. People who use the Internet and are invested in its future outnumber corporate lobbyists by orders of magnitude. There are literally hundreds of millions of us across all demographics\u2014political, ethnic, socioeconomic, and generational\u2014who have a personal stake in the outcome. And there are plenty of smaller online enterprises that have every interest in ensuring a democratic, public-spirited Web. If the great mass of us decide that an open, public-spirited Internet matters and speak up about it\u2014if we join organizations like Free Press (a nonpartisan grassroots lobby for media reform) and make phone calls to Congress and ask questions at town hall meetings and contribute donations to the representatives who are leading the way\u2014the lobbyists don't stand a chance.\n\nAs billions come online in India and Brazil and Africa, the Internet is transforming into a truly global place. Increasingly, it will be the place where we live our lives. But in the end, a small group of American companies may unilaterally dictate how billions of people work, play, communicate, and understand the world. Protecting the early vision of radical connectedness and user control should be an urgent priority for all of us.\n**ACKNOWLEDGMENTS**\n\nWriting may be a lonely profession, but thinking isn't. That's been one of the great gifts of this writing process\u2014the opportunity to think together and learn from some extremely smart and morally thoughtful people. This book wouldn't be the same\u2014and wouldn't be much\u2014without a large team of (sometimes unwitting) collaborators. What follows is my best attempt to credit those who contributed directly. But there's an even larger number whose scholarship or writing or philosophy gave structure to my thoughts or forced me to think in a new way: Larry Lessig, Neil Postman, Cass Sunstein, Marshall McLuhan, Marvin Minsky, and Michael Schudson come to mind as a start. What's good in this book owes a lot to this broad cadre of thinkers. The errors, of course, are all mine.\n\n_The Filter Bubble_ began as a sketched fragment of text jotted down in the first days of 2010. Elyse Cheney, my literary agent, gave me the confidence to see it as a book. Her keen editorial eye, fierce intellect, and refreshingly blunt assessments (\"That part's pretty good. This chapter, not so much.\") dramatically strengthened the final text. I know it's par for the course to thank one's agent. But Elyse was more than an agent for this book\u2014she was its best proponent and critic, constantly pushing it (and me) to be great. Whether or not the final manuscript met that mark, I've learned a lot, and I'm grateful and deeply appreciative. Her team\u2014Sarah Rainone and Hannah Elnan\u2014were also terrific to work with.\n\nAnn Godoff and Laura Stickney, my editors at Penguin Press, are the other two members of the triumvirate that brought this book into existence. Ann's wisdom helped to shape what this book is about and for whom I've written it; Laura's acute eye and gentle questions and provocations helped me see the gaps, leaps, and snags in the text. I'm indebted to both.\n\nThere's another trio that deserves a great deal of credit, not just for getting this book across the finish line in (more or less) one piece, but for inspiring some of the best insights in it. Research assistants Caitlin Petre, Sam Novey, and Julia Kamin scoured the Internet and dug through dusty library books to help me figure out what exactly was going on. Sam, my resident contrarian, constantly pushed me to think more deeply about what I was saying. Julia brought a keen scientific skepticism to the task and protected me from dubious scholarship that I might otherwise have embraced. And Caitlin's great intelligence, hard work, and thoughtful critique were the sources of some of my favorite aha moments. Guys, I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you.\n\nOne of the best parts of the writing process was the opportunity to call up or sit down with extraordinary people and ask them questions. I'm thankful to the following folks for responding to my inquiries and helping inform the text: C. W. Anderson, Ken Auletta, John Battelle, Bill Bishop, Matt Cohler, Gabriella Coleman, Dalton Conley, Chris Coyne, Pam Dixon, Caterina Fake, Matthew Hindman, Bill Joy, Dave Karpf, Jaron Lanier, Steven Levy, Diana Mutz, Nicholas Negroponte, Markus Prior, Robert Putnam, John Rendon, Jay Rosen, Marc Rotenberg, Douglas Rushkoff, Michael Schudson, Daniel Solove, Danny Sullivan, Philip Tetlock, Clive Thompson, and Jonathan Zittrain. Conversations with Ethan Zuckerman, Scott Heiferman, David Kirkpatrick, Clay Shirky, Nicco Mele, Dean Eckles, Jessi Hempel, and Ryan Calo were especially provocative and helpful. Thanks to Nate Tyler and Jonathan McPhie at Google for considering and responding to my inquiries. And strange though it may seem, given my topic, thanks also to my Facebook friends, some real, some virtual, who quickly responded to my queries and were helpful when I was looking for an anecdote or colorful example.\n\nDuring the writing process, I've received invaluable help from a number of institutions and communities. I don't know where I'd be without the summer months I spent researching and writing at the Blue Mountain Center: many thanks to Ben, Harriet, and my fellow fellows for the space to think, advice (especially from Carey McKenzie), and late-night swims. The Roosevelt Institute was gracious enough to offer a place to hang my hat for the last year: thanks to Andy Rich and Bo Cutter for the intellectual stimulation and great conversations. Micah Sifry and Andrew Raseij, two great friends of online democracy, gave me the space to first make this argument at the Personal Democracy Forum. David Fenton has been there to help with every step of this process, from lending his home for writing and thinking to consulting on the title to helping the book find an audience. David, you're a good friend. And Fenton Communications\u2014especially my kind, thoughtful friend Lisa Witter\u2014generously supported the early investigations that set me on the personalization trail.\n\nThere's little I can say to sufficiently thank Team MoveOn, past and present, from whom I've learned so very much about politics, technology, and people. Carrie, Zack, Joan, Patrick, Tom, Nita, Jenn, Ben, Matt, Natalie, Noah, Adam, Roz, Justin, Ilyse, and the whole crew: You're some of the most fiercely thoughtful and inspiring people I've ever met, and I feel lucky to have worked alongside you.\n\nThe manuscript was ready to read only weeks before it was due. Wes Boyd, Matt Ewing, Randall Farmer, Daniel Mintz, my parents, Emanuel Pariser and Dora Lievow, and of course Sam, Caitlin, and Julia were all kind enough to put aside busy lives and plow through it. I shudder to think of what might have gone to print without their notes. Todd Rogers, Anne O'Dwyer, Patrick Kane, David Kirkpatrick, and Jessi Hempel were all kind enough to look at pieces of the book, as well. And I can't say thanks enough to Krista Williams and Amanda Katz, whose brilliant editorial thinking helped nurse some somewhat sickly chapters back to health (Krista, a second thanks for your friendship). Stephanie Hopkins and Mirela Iverac provided invaluable last-minute assistance with the manuscript.\n\nI've saved the greatest and most personal debts for last. I've benefited immeasurably in my life from a string of great teachers: to name a few, Karen Scott, Doug Hamill, and Leslie Simmons at Lincolnville Central School; Jon Potter and Rob Lovell at Camden-Rockport High; and Barbara Resnik and Peter Cocks at Simon's Rock, among others. Whatever perspicuity I have I owe these folks. And I'm lucky enough to have some truly wonderful friends. I can't list all of you here, but you know who you are. I'm especially grateful for the support and love I've received\u2014in good times and bad\u2014from Aram and Lara Kailian, Tate Hausman, Noah T. Winer, Nick Arons, and Ben and Beth Wikler. It's one of my goals in life to be as good a friend as you've been to me.\n\nMy family has also encouraged me and sharpened my thinking every step of the way. Big hugs and even bigger thank-yous to my mother, Dora Lievow, my father and stepmother, Emanuel Pariser and Lea Girardin, and my sister, Ya Jia. Eben Pariser, my brother, not only egged me on but made amazing pizza when I was flagging and helped finalize the manuscript. He's as good a brother as he is a musician (check out his band, Roosevelt Dime, and you'll see how high that compliment is). Bronwen Rice may not be an official family member, but I'll include her here anyway: Bronwen, thanks for keeping me true to myself all of these years.\n\nThere are four final people whose generosity, intelligence, and love I appreciate more than I can fully express:\n\nWes Boyd took a big gamble on a twenty-one-year-old, trusted me more than I trusted myself, and mentored me through eight years at MoveOn. This book draws on many of our conversations over the years\u2014there's no one I enjoy thinking with more. Peter Koechley, my true friend and coconspirator, encouraged me when the going got rough\u2014in the writing process and outside of it. I'm grateful to have a friend who is simultaneously so talented and so decent. Vivien Labaton: I have no sufficient superlatives, so I'll just go with the colloquial. You're the best. And finally, there's Gena Konstantinakos. Gena, you've borne the brunt of this project more than anyone\u2014the months of working weekends and late nights and early mornings at the office, the stress during revisions, and the constantly extended deadlines. You took it in stride and then some, giving me pep talks, helping me sort out chapters on note cards, and cheering me on all the way. I'm still amazed, some days, to wake up with someone so smart, beautiful, talented, principled, and good-spirited in my life. I love you.\n**FURTHER READING**\n\nAlexander, Christopher, Sara Ishikawa, and Murray Silverstein. _A Pattern Language: Towns, Buildings, Construction._ New York: Oxford University Press, 1977.\n\nAnderson, Benedict. _Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism._ New York: Verso, 1991.\n\nBattelle, John. _The Search: How Google and Its Rivals Rewrote the Rules of Business and Transformed Our Culture_. New York: Portfolio, 2005.\n\nBerger, John. _Ways of Seeing._ New York: Penguin, 1973.\n\nBishop, Bill. _The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America Is Tearing Us Apart._ New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2008.\n\nBohm, David. _On Dialogue._ New York: Routledge, 1996.\n\nConley, Dalton. _Elsewhere, U.S.A.: How We Got from the Company Man, Family Dinners, and the Affluent Society to the Home Office, BlackBerry Moms, and Economic Anxiety._ New York: Pantheon Books, 2008.\n\nDewey, John. _Public and Its Problems_. Athens, OH: Swallow Press, 1927.\n\nHeuer, Richards J. _Psychology of Intelligence Analysis._ Washington, D.C.: Central Intelligence Agency, 1999.\n\nInglehart, Ronald. _Modernization and Postmodernization._ Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997.\n\nKelly, Kevin. _What Technology Wants._ New York: Viking, 2010.\n\nKoestler, Arthur. _The Act of Creation_. New York: Arkana, 1989.\n\nLanier, Jaron. _You Are Not a Gadget: A Manifesto._ New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2010.\n\nLessig, Lawrence. _Code: And Other Laws of Cyberspace, Version 2.0._ New York: Basic Books, 2006.\n\nLippmann, Walter. _Liberty and the News._ Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1920.\n\nMinsky, Marvin. _A Society of Mind_. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1988.\n\nNorman, Donald A. _The Design of Everyday Things._ New York: Basic Books, 1988.\n\nPostman, Neil. _Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business._ New York: Penguin Books, 1985.\n\nSchudson, Michael. _Discovering the News: A Social History of American Newspapers._ New York: Basic Books, 1978.\n\nShields, David. _Reality Hunger: A Manifesto_. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2010.\n\nShirky, Clay. _Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing Without Organizations._ New York: The Penguin Press, 2008.\n\nSolove, Daniel J. _Understanding Privacy._ Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2008.\n\nSunstein, Cass R. _Republic.com 2.0._ Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007.\n\nTurner, Fred. _From Counterculture to Cyberculture: Stewart Brand, the Whole Earth Network, and the Rise of Digital Utopianism._ Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2006.\n\nWatts, Duncan J. _Six Degrees: The Science of a Connected Age._ New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2003.\n\nWu, Tim. _The Master Switch : The Rise and Fall of Information Empires._ New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2010.\n\nZittrain, Jonathan. _The Future of the Internet\u2014And How to Stop It._ New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008.\n**NOTES**\n\n#  **Introduction**\n\n**1 \"A squirrel dying\":** David Kirkpatrick, _The Facebook Effect: The Inside Story of the Company That Is Connecting the World_ (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2010), 296.\n\n**1 \"thereafter our tools shape us\":** Marshall McLuhan, _Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man_ (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1994).\n\n**1 \"Personalized search for everyone\":** _Google Blog,_ Dec. 4, 2009, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, <http:\/\/googleblog.blogspot.com\/2009\/12\/personalized-search-for-everyone.html>.\n\n**2 Google would use fifty-seven s** _ **ignals**_ **:** Author interview with confidential source.\n\n**6** _**Wall Street Journal**_ **study:** Julia Angwin, \"The Web's New Gold Mine: Your Secrets,\" _Wall Street Journal,_ July 30, 2010, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, <http:\/\/online.wsj.com\/article\/SB10001424052748703940904575395073512989404.html>.\n\n**6 \"Yahoo\":** Although the official trademark is Yahoo!, I've omitted the exclamation point throughout this book for easier reading.\n\n**6 site installs 223 tracking cookies:** Angwin, \"The World's New Gold Mine,\" July 30, 2010.\n\n**6 Teflon-coated pots:** At the time of writing, ABC News used a piece of sharing software called \"AddThis.\" When you use AddThis to share a piece of content on ABC News's site (or anyone else's), AddThis places a tracking cookie on your computer that can be used to target advertising to people who share items from particular sites.\n\n**6 \"the cost is information about you\":** Chris Palmer, phone interview with author **,** Dec 10, 2010.\n\n**7 accumulated an average of 1,500 pieces of data:** Stephanie Clifford, \"Ads Follow Web Users, and Get More Personal,\" _New York Times,_ July 30, 2009, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2009\/07\/31\/business\/media\/31privacy.html.\n\n**7 96 percent of Americans:** Richard Behar, \"Never Heard of Acxiom? Chances Are It's Heard of You.\" _Fortune,_ Feb. 23, 2004, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, <http:\/\/money.cnn.com\/magazines\/fortune\/fortune_archive\/2004\/02\/23\/362182\/index.htm>.\n\n**8 Netflix can predict:** Marshall Kirkpatrick, \"They Did It! One Team Reports Success in the $1m Netflix Prize,\" _ReadWriteWeb_ , June 26, 2009, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, www.readwriteweb.com\/archives\/they_did_it_one_team_reports_success_in_the_1m_net.php.\n\n**8 Web site that isn't customized . . . will seem quaint:** Marshall Kirpatrick, \"Facebook Exec: All Media Will Be Personalized in 3 to 5 Years,\" _ReadWriteWeb_ , Sept. 29, 2010, accessed Jan. 30, 2011, www.readwriteweb.com\/archives\/facebook_exec_all_media_will_be_personalized_in_3.php.\n\n**8 \"now the web is about 'me' \":** Josh Catone, \"Yahoo: The Web's Future Is Not in Search,\" _ReadWriteWeb,_ June 4, 2007, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, www.readwriteweb.com\/archives\/yahoo_personalization.php.\n\n**8 \"tell them what they should be doing\":** James Farrar, \"Google to End Serendipity (by Creating It),\" _ZDNet,_ Aug. 17, 2010, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, www.zdnet.com\/blog\/sustainability\/google-to-end-serendipity-by-creating-it\/1304.\n\n**8 are becoming a primary news source:** Pew Research Center, \"Americans Spend More Time Following the News,\" Sept. 12, 2010, accessed Feb 7, 2011, <http:\/\/people-press.org\/report\/?pageid=1793>.\n\n**8 million more people joining each day:** Justin Smith, \"Facebook Now Growing by Over 700,000 Users a Day, and New Engagement Stats,\" July 2, 2009, accessed Feb. 7, 2011, www.insidefacebook.com\/2009\/07\/02\/facebook-now-growing-by-over-700000-users-a-day-updated-engagement-stats\/ .\n\n**8 biggest source of news in the world:** Ellen McGirt, \"Hacker. Drop out. CEO,\" _Fast Company,_ May 1, 2007, accessed Feb. 7, 2011, www.fastcompany.com\/magazine\/115\/open_features-hacker-dropout-ceo.html.\n\n**11 information: 900,000 blog posts, 50 million tweets:** \"Measuring tweets,\" _Twitter_ blog _,_ Feb. 22, 2010, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, <http:\/\/blog.twitter.com\/2010\/02\/measuring-tweets.html>.\n\n**11 60 million Facebook status updates, and 210 billion e-mails:** \"A Day in the Internet,\" Online Education, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, www.onlineeducation.net\/internet.\n\n**11 about 5 billion gigabytes:** M. G. Siegler, \"Eric Schmidt: Every 2 Days We Create as Much Information as We Did up to 2003,\" _TechCrunch_ blog, Aug. 4, 2010, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, <http:\/\/techcrunch.com\/2010\/08\/04\/schmidt-data>.\n\n**11 two new stadium-size complexes:** Paul Foy, \"Gov't Whittles Bidders for NSA's Utah Data Center,\" Associated Press, Apr. 21, 2010, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, http:\/\/abcnews.go.com\/Business\/wireStory?id=10438827&page=2.\n\n**11 new units of measurements:** James Bamford, \"Who's in Big Brother's Database?,\" _The New York Review of Books,_ Nov 5, 2009, accessed Feb. 8, 2011 _,_www.nybooks.com\/articles\/archives\/2009\/nov\/o5\/whos-in-big-brothers-database.\n\n**11 the attention crash:** Steve Rubel, \"Three Ways to Mitigate the Attention Crash, Yet Still Feel Informed,\" _Micro Persuasion_ (Steve Rubel's blog), Apr. 30, 2008, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, www.micropersuasion.com\/2008\/04\/three-ways-to-m.html.\n\n**13 \"back in the bottle\":** Danny Sullivan, phone interview with author, Sept 10, 2010.\n\n**13 part of our daily experience:** Cass Sunstein, _Republic.com 2.0._ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007).\n\n**13\u201314 \"skew your perception of the world\":** Ryan Calo, phone interview with author, Dec. 13, 2010.\n\n**14 \"the psychological equivalent of obesity\":** danah boyd, \"Streams of Content, Limited Attention: The Flow of Information through Social Media,\" speech, Web 2.0 Expo. (New York: 2009), accessed July 19, 2010, www.danah.org\/papers\/talks\/Web2Expo.html.\n\n**15 \"strategically time\" their online solicitations:** \"Ovulation Hormones Make Women 'Choose Clingy Clothes,'\" BBC News, Aug. 5, 2010, accessed Feb: 8, 2011, www.bbc.co.uk\/news\/health-10878750.\n\n**16 third-party marketing firms:** \"Preliminary FTC Staff Privacy Report,\" remarks of Chairman Jon Leibowitz, as prepared for delivery, Dec. 1, 2010, accessed Feb. 8, 2011, www.ftc.gov\/speeches\/leibowitz\/101201privacyreportremarks.pdf.\n\n**16 Yochai Bentler argues:** Yochai Benkler, \"Siren Songs and Amish Children: Autonomy, Information, and Law,\" _New York University Law Review,_ Apr. 2001.\n\n**17 tap into lots of different networks:** Robert Putnam, _Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community_ (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2000).\n\n**17 \"make us all next door neighbors\":** Thomas Friedman, \"It's a Flat World, After All,\" _New York Times,_ Apr. 3, 2005, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2005\/04\/03\/magazine\/03DOMINANCE.html?pagewanted=all.\n\n**17 \"smaller and smaller and faster and faster\":** Thomas Friedman, _The Lexus and the Olive Tree_ (New York: Random House, 2000), 141.\n\n**18 \"closes the loop on pecuniary self-interest\":** Clive Thompson, interview with author, Brooklyn, NY, Aug. 13, 2010.\n\n**18 \"Customers are always right, but people aren't\":** Lee Siegel, _Against the Machine: Being Human in the Age of the Electronic Mob_ (New York: Spiegel and Grau, 2008), 161.\n\n**18 thirty-six hours a week watching TV:** \"Americans Using TV and Internet Together 35% More Than A Year Ago,\" Nielsen Wire, Mar. 22, 2010, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, <http:\/\/blog.nielsen.com\/nielsenwire\/online_mobile\/three-screen-report-q409>.\n\n**19 \"civilization of Mind in cyberspace\":** John Perry Barlow, \"A Cyberspace Independence Declaration,\" Feb. 9, 1996, accessed Dec. 19, 2010, <http:\/\/w2.eff.org\/Censorship\/Internet_censorship_bills\/barlow_0296.declaration>.\n\n**19 \"code is law\":** Lawrence Lessig, _Code 2.0_ (New York: Basic Books, 2006), 5.\n\n#  **Chapter One: The Race for Relevance**\n\n**21 \"If you're not paying for something\":** _MetaFilter_ blog, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, www.metafilter.com\/95152\/Userdriven-discontent.\n\n**22 \"vary sex, violence, and political leaning\":** Nicholas Negroponte, _Being Digital_ (New York: Knopf, 1995), 46.\n\n**22 \"the Daily Me\":** Ibid., 151.\n\n**22 \"Intelligent agents are the unequivocal future\":** Negroponte, Mar. 1, 1995, e-mail to the editor, Wired.com, Mar. 3, 1995, www.wired.com\/wired\/archive\/3.03\/negroponte.html.\n\n**23 \"The agent question looms\":** Jaron Lanier, \"Agents of Alienation,\" accessed Jan. 30, 2011, www.jaronlanier.com\/agentalien.html\n\n**24 twenty-five worst tech products:** Dan Tynan, \"The 25 Worst Tech Products of All Time,\" _PC World,_ May 26, 2006, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, www.pcworld.com\/article\/125772-3\/the_25_worst_tech_products_of_all_time.html#bob.\n\n**24 invested over $100 million:** Dawn Kawamoto, \"Newsmaker: Riding the next technology wave,\" CNET News, Oct. 2, 2003, accessed Jan. 30, 2011, <http:\/\/news.cnet.com\/2008-7351-5085423.html>.\n\n**25 \"he's a lot like John Irving\":** Robert Spector, _Get Big Fast_ (New York: HarperBusiness, 2000), 142.\n\n**25 \"small Artificial Intelligence company\":** Ibid., 145.\n\n**26 surprised to find them at the top:** Ibid., 27.\n\n**26 Random House, controlled only 10 percent:** Ibid., 25.\n\n**26 so many of them\u20143 million active titles:** Ibid., 25.\n\n**27 They called their field \"cybernetics\":** Barnabas D. Johnson, \"Cybernetics of Society,\" The Jurlandia Institute, accessed Jan. 30, 2011, www.jurlandia.org\/cybsoc.htm.\n\n**27 PARC was known for:** Michael Singer, \"Google Gobbles Up Outride,\" _InternetNews.com,_ Sept. 21, 2001, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, www .internetnews.com\/bus-news\/article.php\/889381\/Google-Gobbles-Up-Outride.html.\n\n**27 collaborative filtering:** Moya K. Mason, \"Short History of Collaborative Filtering,\" accessed Dec. 10, 2010, www.moyak.com\/papers\/collaborative-filtering.html.\n\n**28 \"handle any incoming stream of electronic documents\":** David Goldberg, David Nichols, Brian M. Oki, and Douglas Terry, \"Using Collaborative Filtering to Weave an Information Tapestry,\" _Communications of the ACM_ 35 (1992), 12:61.\n\n**28 \"sends replies as necessary\":** Upendra Shardanand, \"Social Information Filtering for Music Recommendation\" (graduate diss., Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 1994).\n\n**29 fewer health books:** Martin Kaste, \"Is Your E-Book Reading Up On You?,\" NPR.org, Dec. 15, 2010, accessed Feb. 8, 2010, www.npr.org\/2010\/12\/15\/132058735\/is-your-e-book-reading-up-on-you.\n\n**30 as if by an \"objective\" recommendation:** Aaron Shepard, _Aiming at Amazon: The NEW Business of Self Publishing, Or How to Publish Your Books with Print on Demand and Online Book Marketing_ (Friday Harbor, WA: Shepard Publications, 2006), 127.\n\n**30 \"notion of 'relevant' \":** Sergey Brin and Lawrence Page, \"The Anatomy of a Large-Scale Hypertextual Web Search Engine,\" Section 1.3.1.\n\n**31 \"advertising causes enough mixed incentives\":** Ibid., Section 8, Appendix A.\n\n**32 \"very difficult to get this data\":** Ibid., Section 1.3.2.\n\n**33 black-ops kind of feel:** Saul Hansell, \"Google Keeps Tweaking Its Search Engine,\" _New York Times_ , June 3, 2007, accessed Feb. 7, 2011, www.nytimes.com\/2007\/06\/03\/business\/yourmoney\/03google.html?_r=1.\n\n**33 \"give back exactly what you want\":** David A. Vise and Mark Malseed, _The Google Story_ (New York: Bantam Dell, 2005), 289. **34**\n\n**\"ancient shark teeth\":** Patent full text, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, http:\/\/patft.uspto.gov\/netacgi\/nph-Parser?Sect1=PTO2&Sect2=HITOFF&u=%2Fnetahtml%2FPTO%2Fsearch-adv.htm&r=1&p=1&f=G&l=50&d=PTXT&S1=7,451,130.PN.&OS=pn\/7,451,130&RS=PN\/7,451,13 ,\n\n**35 \"could call that artificial intelligence\":** Lawrence Page, Google Zeitgeist Europe Conference, May 2006.\n\n**35 \"answer a more hypothetical question\":** BBC News, \"Hyper-personal Search 'Possible,' \" June 20, 2007, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, <http:\/\/news.bbc.co.uk\/2\/hi\/technology\/6221256.stm>.\n\n**36 \"We're a utility\":** David Kirkpatrick, \"Facebook Effect,\" _New York Times,_ June 8, 2010, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2010\/06\/08\/books\/excerpt-facebook-effect.html?pagewanted=1.\n\n**37 \"more news in a single day\":** Ellen McGirt, \"Hacker. Dropout. CEO,\" _Fast Company,_ May 1, 2007, accessed Feb. 7, 2011, <http:\/\/www.fastcompany.com\/magazine\/115\/open_features-hacker-dropout-ceo.html>.\n\n**37 it rests on three factors:** Jason Kincaid, \"EdgeRank: The Secret Sauce That Makes Facebook's News Feed Tick,\" _TechCrunch_ blog, Apr. 22, 2010, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, <http:\/\/techcrunch.com\/2010\/04\/22\/facebook-edgerank>.\n\n**38 the 300 million user mark:** Mark Zuckerberg, \"300 Million and On,\" _Facebook_ blog, Sept. 15, 2009, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, <http:\/\/blog.facebook.com\/blog.php?post=136782277130>.\n\n**38 the** _**Washington Post**_ **homepage:** Full disclosure: In the spring of 2010, I briefly consulted with the _Post_ about its online communities and Web presence.\n\n**39 \"the most transformative thing\":** Caroline McCarthy, \"Facebook F8: One Graph to Rule Them All,\" CNET News _,_ Apr. 21, 2010, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, <http:\/\/news.cnet.com\/8301-13577_3-20003053-36.html>.\n\n**39 sharing 25 billion items a month:** M. G. Siegler, \"Facebook: We'll Serve 1 Billion Likes on the Web in Just 24 Hours,\" _TechCrunch_ blog, Apr. 21, 2010, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, <http:\/\/techcrunch.com\/2010\/04\/21\/facebook-like-button>.\n\n**42 Acxiom knew more:** Richard Behar, \"Never Heard of Acxiom? Chances Are It's Heard of You,\" _Fortune,_ Feb. 23, 2004, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, <http:\/\/money.cnn.com\/magazines\/fortune\/fortune_archive\/2004\/02\/23\/362182\/index.htm>.\n\n**43 serves most of the largest companies in America:** nternetNews.com Staff, \"Acxiom Hacked, Customer Information Exposed,\" _InternetNews .com,_ Aug. 8, 2003, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, www.esecurityplanet.com\/trends\/article.php\/2246461\/Acxiom-Hacked-Customer-Information-Exposed.htm.\n\n**43 \"product we make is data\":** Behar, \"Never Heard of Acxiom?\"\n\n**44 auctions it off to the company with the highest bid:** Stephanie Clifford, \"Your Online Clicks Have Value, for Someone Who Has Something to Sell,\" _New York Times,_ Mar. 25, 2009, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2009\/03\/26\/business\/media\/26adco.html?_r=2.\n\n**44 takes under a second:** The Center for Digital Democracy, U.S. Public Interest Research Group, and the World Privacy Forum's complaint to the Federal Trade Commission, Apr. 8, 2010, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, <http:\/\/democraticmedia.org\/real-time-targeting>.\n\n**44 leave without buying anything:** Press release, FetchBack Inc., Apr. 13, 2010, accessed Dec. 10, 2010, www.fetchback.com\/press_041310.html.\n\n**45 \"62 billion real-time attributes a year\":** Center for Digital Democracy, U.S. PIRG, and the World Privacy Forum's complaint.\n\n**45 the Rubicon Project:** Ibid.\n\n#  **Chapter Two: The User Is the Content**\n\n**47 \"undermines the democratic way of life\":** John Dewey, _Essays, Reviews, and Miscellany, 1939\u20131941, The Later Works of John Dewey, 1925\u20131953_ , vol.14 (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1998), 227.\n\n**47 \"been tailored for them\":** Holman W. Jenkins Jr., \"Google and the Search for the Future,\" _Wall Street Journal,_ Aug. 14, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/online.wsj.com\/article\/SB10001424052748704901104575423294099527212.html>.\n\n**48 \"don't know which half\":** John Wanamaker, U.S. department store merchant, as quoted in Marilyn Ross and Sue Collier, _The Complete Guide to Self-Publishing_ (Cincinnati: Writer's Digest Books, 2010), 344.\n\n**49 One executive in the marketing session:** I wasn't able to identify him in my notes.\n\n**49 Now, in 2010, they only received:** Interactive Advertising Bureau PowerPoint, report, \"Brand Advertising Online and The Next Wave of M&A,\" Feb. 2010.\n\n**50 target premium audiences in \"other, cheaper places\":** Ibid. **50 \"denied an assured access to the facts\":** Walter Lippmann, _Liberty and the News_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1920), 6.\n\n**50 blogs remain incredibly reliant on them:** Pew Research Center, \"How Blogs and Social Media Agendas Relate and Differ from the Traditional Press,\" May 23, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.journalism.org\/node\/20621.\n\n**52\u201353 \"these documents are forgeries\":** Peter Wallsten, \"'Buckhead,' Who Said CBS Memos Were Forged, Is a GOP-Linked Attorney,\" _Los Angeles Times,_ Sept. 18, 2004, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/seattletimes.nwsource.com\/html\/nationworld\/2002039080_buckhead18.html>.\n\n**53 \"We should not have used them\":** Associated Press, \"CBS News Admits Bush Documents Can't Be Verified,\" Sept. 21, 2004, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.msnbc.msn.com\/id\/6055248\/ns\/politics.\n\n**54 paying attention to the story:** _The Gallup Poll: Public Opinion 2004_ (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006), http:\/\/books.google.com\/books?id=uqqp-sDCjo4C&pg=PA392&lpg=PA392&dq=public+opinion+poll+on+dan+rather+controversy&source=bl&ots=CPGu03cpsn&sig=9XT-li8ar2GOXxfVQWCcGNHIxTg&hl=en&ei=uw_7TLK9OMGB8gb3r72ACw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CBcQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=public%20opinion%20poll%20on%20dan%20rather%20controversy&f=true.\n\n**54 \"a crisis in journalism\":** Lippmann, _Liberty and the News,_ 64.\n\n**56 at this point that newspapers came to carry:** This section was informed by the wonderful Michael Schudson, _Discovering the News: A Social History of American Newspapers_ (New York: Basic Books, 1978).\n\n**57 \"They goose-stepped it\":** Lippmann, _Liberty and the News_ , 4.\n\n**57 \"what [the average citizen] shall know\":** Ibid., 7.\n\n**58 \"distinctive member of a community\":** John Dewey, _Essays, Reviews, and Miscellany, 1939\u20131941, The Later Works of John Dewey, 1925\u20131953,_ vol. 2 (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1984), 332.\n\n**59 calls the 2000s the disintermediation decade:** Jon Pareles, \"A World of Megabeats and Megabytes,\" _New York Times,_ Dec. 30, 2009, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2010\/01\/03\/arts\/music\/03tech.html.\n\n**59** _**Disintermediation**_ **\u2014the elimination of middlemen:** Dave Winer, Dec. 7, 2005, Dave Winer's blog, _Scripting News_ , accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/scripting.com\/2005\/12\/07.html#>.\n\n**59 \"It sucks power out of the center\":** Esther Dyson, \"Does Google Violate Its 'Don't Be Evil' Motto?,\" _Intelligence Squared US._ Debate between Esther Dyson, Siva Vaidhyanathan, Harry Lewis, Randal C. Picker, Jim Harper, and Jeff Jarvis (New York, NY) Nov. 18, 2008, accessed Feb. 7, 2011, www.npr.org\/templates\/story\/story.php?storyId=97216369.\n\n**60 the Latin for \"middle layer\":** Hat tip to Clay Shirky for introducing me to this fact in his conversation with Jay Rosen. Clay Shirky interview by Jay Rosen, video, chap. 5 \"Why Study Media?\" _NYU Primary Sources_ (New York, NY), 2011, accessed Feb 9, 2011, <http:\/\/nyuprimarysources.org\/video-library\/jay-rosen-and-clay-shirky\/>.\n\n**61 \"many wresting power from the few\":** Lev Grossman, \"Time's Person of the Year: You,\" _Time,_ Dec. 13, 2006, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.time.com\/time\/magazine\/article\/0,9171,1569514,00.html.\n\n**61 \"did not eliminate intermediaries\":** Jack Goldsmith and Tim Wu, _Who Controls the Internet? Illusions of a Borderless World_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 70.\n\n**62 \"It will remember what you know\":** Danny Sullivan, \"Google CEO Eric Schmidt on Newspapers & Journalism,\" Search Engine Land, Oct. 3, 2009, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/searchengineland.com\/google-ceo-eric-schmidt-on-newspapers-journalism-27172>.\n\n**62 \"bringing the content to the right group\":** \"Krishna Bharat Discusses the Past and Future of Google News,\" _Google News_ blog, June 15, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/googlenewsblog.blogspot.com\/2010\/06\/krishna-bharat-discusses-past-and.html>.\n\n**62 \"We pay attention\":** Ibid.\n\n**63 \"most important, their social circle\":** Ibid.\n\n**63 \"make it available to publishers\":** Ibid.\n\n**63 Americans lost more faith in news:** \"Press Accuracy Rating Hits Two Decade Low; Public Evaluations of the News Media: 1985\u20132009,\" Pew Research Center for the People and the Press, Sept. 13, 2009, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/people-press.org\/report\/543\/>.\n\n**64 \"** _ **New York Times**_ **and some random blogger\":** Author's interview with Yahoo News executive. Sept. 22, 2010. This interview was conducted in confidence.\n\n**65 unplugging from cable TV offerings:** Erick Schonfeld, \"Estimate: 800,000 U.S. Households Abandoned Their TVs for the Web,\" _TechCrunch_ blog, Apr. 13, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/techcrunch.com\/2010\/04\/13\/800000-households-abandoned-tvs-web>; \"Cable TV Taking It on the Chin,\" www.freemoneyfinance.com\/2010\/11\/cable-tv-taking-it-on-the-chin.html; and Peter Svensson, \"Cable Subscribers Flee, but Is Internet to Blame?\" <http:\/\/finance.yahoo.com\/news\/Cable-subscribers-flee-but-is-apf-3875814716.html?x=0>.\n\n**65 \"change the ad industry forever\":** \"Google Vice President: Online Video and TV Will Converge,\" June 25, 2010, Appmarket.tv, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.appmarket.tv\/news\/160-breaking-news\/440-google-vice-president-online-video-and-tv-will-converge.html.\n\n**66 know people who live near us:** Bill Bishop, _The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America Is Tearing Us Apart_ (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2008), 35.\n\n**67 \"watch television to turn your brain off\":** Jason Snell, \"Steve Jobs on the Mac's 20th Anniversary,\" _Macworld,_ Feb. 2, 2004, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.macworld.com\/article\/29181\/2004\/02\/themacturns20jobs.html.\n\n**67 thirty-six hours a week:** \"Americans Using TV and Internet Together 35% More Than a Year Ago,\" nielsenwire, Mar. 22, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/blog.nielsen.com\/nielsenwire\/online_mobile\/three-screen-report-q409>.\n\n**68 quit channel surfing far more quickly:** Paul Klein, as quoted in Marcus Prior, _Post-Broadcast Democracy_ (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 39.\n\n**68 like your own personal TV channel:** \"YouTube Leanback Offers Effortless Viewing,\" _YouTube_ blog, July 7, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/youtube-global.blogspot.com\/2010\/07\/youtube-leanback-offers-effortless.html>.\n\n**69 onto the Big Board, and you're liable to get a raise:** Ben McGrath, \"Search and Destroy: Nick Denton's Blog Empire,\" _New Yorker,_ Oct. 18, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.newyorker.com\/reporting\/2010\/10\/18\/101018fa_fact_mcgrath?currentPage=all.\n\n**70 \"come to us for our judgment\":** Jeremy Peters, \"Some Newspapers, Tracking Readers Online, Shift Coverage,\" _New York Times,_ Sept. 5, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2010\/09\/06\/business\/media\/06track.html.\n\n**71 gin up stories that will get clicks:** Danna Harman, \"In Chile, Instant Web Feedback Creates the Next Day's Paper,\" _Christian Science Monitor,_ Dec. 1, 2004, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.csmonitor.com\/2004\/1201\/p01s04-woam.html.\n\n**71 \"creating content in response to audience insight\":** Jeremy Peters, \"At Yahoo, Using Searches to Steer News Coverage,\" _New York Times,_ July 5, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2010\/07\/05\/business\/media\/05yahoo.html.\n\n**72 the newspaper's most e-mailed stories:** Jonah A. Berger and Katherine L. Milkman, \"Social Transmission and Viral Culture,\" Social Science Research Network Working Paper Series (Dec. 25, 2009): 2.\n\n**72 \"Woman in Sumo Wrestler Suit\":** _Huffington Post,_ \"The Craziest Headline Ever,\" June 23, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.huffingtonpost.com\/2010\/06\/23\/craziest-bar-ever-discove_n_623447.html.\n\n**72 sex with a horse:** Danny Westneat, \"Horse Sex Story Was Online Hit,\" _Seattle Times,_ Dec. 30, 2005, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/seattletimes.nwsource.com\/html\/localnews\/2002711400_danny30.html>.\n\n**72 world's ugliest dog:** Ben Margot, \"Rescued Chihuahua Princess Abby Wins World's Ugliest Dog Contest, Besting Boxer Mix Pabst,\" _Los Angeles Times,_ June 27, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, <http:\/\/latimesblogs.latimes.com\/unleashed\/2010\/06\/rescued-chihuahua-princess-abby-wins-worlds-ugliest-dog-contest-besting-boxer-mix-pabst.html>.\n\n**72 \"everyone sees the same thing\":** Carl Bialik, \"Look at This Article. It's One of Our Most Popular,\" _Wall Street Journal,_ May 20, 2009.\n\n**73 \"little need to share marketing information\":** Andrew Alexander, \"Making the Online Customer King at The Post,\" _Washington Post,_ July 11, 2010, accessed Dec. 11, 2010, www.washingtonpost.com\/wp-dyn\/content\/article\/2010\/07\/09\/AR2010070903802.html.\n\n**73 \"whether you want to hear this or not\":** Nicholas Negroponte, interview with author, Truckee, CA, Aug. 5, 2010.\n\n**73 \"Gawker's Big Board is a scary extreme\":** Professor Michael Schudson, interview with author, New York, NY, Aug. 13, 2010.\n\n**73 stories about the war in Afghanistan:** Simon Dumenco, \"Google News Cares More About Facebook, Twitter and Apple Than Iraq, Afghanistan,\" _Advertising Age_ , June 23, 2010, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, <http:\/\/adage.com\/mediaworks\/article?article_id=144624>.\n\n**74 \"not to pursue some important stories\":** Alexander, \"Making the Online Customer King.\"\n\n**75 \"periodically be alarmed when there is a crisis?\":** Shirky, interviewed by Jay Rosen.\n\n**75 \"consequences of conjoint and interacting behavior\":** John Dewey, _The Public and Its Problems_ (Athens, OH: Swallow Press, 1927), 126.\n\n#  **Chapter Three: The Adderall Society**\n\n**77 \"contact with persons dissimilar to themselves\":** John Stuart Mill, _The Principles of Political Economy_ (Amherst, MA: Prometheus Books, 2004), 543.\n\n**77 \"reminds one more of a sleepwalker's\":** Arthur Koestler, _The Sleepwalkers: A History of Man's Changing Vision of the Universe_ (New York: Penguin, 1964), 11.\n\n**78 \"but I don't want to talk here\":** Henry Precht, interview with Ambassador David E. Mark, Foreign Affairs Oral History Project, Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, July 28, 1989, accessed Dec. 14, 2010, <http:\/\/memory.loc.gov\/service\/mss\/mssmisc\/mfdip\/2005%20txt%20files\/2004mar02.txt>.\n\n**78 the two men planned a meeting:** Ibid.\n\n**78 \"all I want is my money\":** Ibid.\n\n**78 \"I was snookered\":** John Limond Hart, _The CIA's Russians_ (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2003), 132.\n\n**78 defect and resettle in the United States:** Ibid., 135.\n\n**79 James Jesus Angleton ... was skeptical:** Ibid., 140.\n\n**79 CIA's documents indicated otherwise:** \"Yuri Ivanovich Nosenko, a Soviet defector, Died on August 23rd, Aged 80,\" _Economist,_ Sept. 4, 2008, accessed Dec. 14, 2010, www.economist.com\/node\/12051491.\n\n**79 subjected to polygraph tests:** Ibid.\n\n**80 sent to the Russian front as punishment:** Richards J. Heuer Jr., \"Nosenko: Five Paths to Judgment,\" _Studies in Intelligence_ 31, no. 3 (Fall 1987).\n\n**80 set him up in a new identity:** David Stout, \"Yuri Nosenko, Soviet Spy Who Defected, Dies at 81,\" _New York Times,_ Aug. 27, 2008, accessed Dec. 14, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2008\/08\/28\/us\/28nosenko.html?scp=1&sq=nosenko&st=cse.\n\n**80 news of his death was relayed:** Ibid.\n\n**81 full of laudatory comments:** Richards J. Heuer Jr., _Psychology of Intelligence Analysis_ (Alexandria, VA: Central Intelligence Agency, 1999).\n\n**81 \"analysts should be self-conscious\":** Ibid., xiii.\n\n**82 secondhand and in a distorted form:** Ibid., xx\u2013xxi.\n\n**82 \"To achieve the clearest possible image\":** Ibid., xxi\u2013xxii.\n\n**83 \"predictably irrational\":** Dan Ariely, _Predictably Irrational: The Hidden Forces That Shape Our Decisions_ (New York: HarperCollins, 2008)\n\n**83 figuring out what makes us happy:** Dan Gilbert, _Stumbling on Happiness_ (New York: Knopf, 2006).\n\n**83 only one part of the story:** Kathryn Schulz, _Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margin of Error_ (New York: HarperCollins, 2010).\n\n**84 \"Information wants to be reduced\":** Nassim Nicholas Taleb, _The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable_ (New York: Random House, 2007), 64.\n\n**85 quickly converted into schemata:** Doris Graber, _Processing the News: How People Tame the Information Tide_ (New York: Longman, 1988).\n\n**85 \"condensation of all features of a story\":** Ibid., 161.\n\n**85 woman celebrating her birthday:** Steven James Breckler, James M. Olson, and Elizabeth Corinne Wiggins, _Social Psychology Alive_ (Belmont, CA: Thomson Wadsworth, 2006), 69.\n\n**86 added details to their memories:** Graber, _Processing the News,_ 170.\n\n**86 Princeton versus Dartmouth:** A. H. Hastorf and H. Cantril, \"They Saw a Game: A Case Study,\" _Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology_ 49: 129\u201334.\n\n**87 experts' predictions weren't even close:** Philip E. Tetlock, _Expert Political Judgment: How Good Is It? How Can We Know?_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005).\n\n**88 a process of assimilation and accommodation:** Jean Piaget, _The Psychology of Intelligence_ (New York: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1950).\n\n**89 the idea that Obama was a Muslim:** Jonathan Chait, \"How Republicans Learn That Obama Is Muslim, _New Republic,_ Aug. 27, 2010, www.tnr.com\/blog\/jonathan-chait\/77260\/how-republicans-learn-obama-muslim.\n\n**89 \"actually become mis-educated\":** Ibid.\n\n**89 two modified versions of \"The Country Doctor\":** Travis Proulx and Steven J. Heine, \"Connections from Kafka: Exposure to Meaning Threats Improves Implicit Learning of an Artificial Grammar,\" _Psychological Science_ 20, no. 9 (2009): 1125\u201331.\n\n**90 \"A severe snowstorm filled the space\":** Franz Kafka, _A Country Doctor_ (Prague: Twisted Spoon Press, 1997).\n\n**90 \"Once one responds to a false alarm\":** Ibid.\n\n**90 \"strived to make sense\":** Proulx and Heine, \"Connections from Kafka.\"\n\n**91 presented with an \"information gap\":** George Loewenstein, \"The Psychology of Curiosity: A Review and Reinterpretation,\" _Psychological Bulletin_ 116, no. 1 (1994): 75\u201398, https:\/\/docs.google.com\/viewer?url=www.andrew.cmu.edu\/user\/gl20\/GeorgeLoewenstein\/Papers_files\/pdf\/PsychofCuriosity.pdf.\n\n**91 \"shields the searcher from such radical encounters\":** Siva Vaidhyanathan, _The Googlization of Everything_ (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2011), 182.\n\n**91 \"only give you answers\":** Pablo Picasso, as quoted in Gerd Leonhard, Media Futurist Web site, Dec. 8, 2004, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, www.mediafuturist.com\/about.html.\n\n**92 \"On Adderall, I was able to work\":** Joshua Foer, \"The Adderall Me: My Romance with ADHD Meds,\" _Slate,_ May 10, 2005, www.slate.com\/id\/2118315.\n\n**92 \"pressures to use enhancing drugs] are only going to grow\":** Margaret Talbot, \"Brain Gain: The Underground World of 'Neuroenhancing Drugs,'\" _New Yorker,_ Apr. 27, 2009, accessed Dec. 14, 2010, [www.newyorker.com\/reporting\/2009\/04\/27\/090427fa_fact_talbot?currentPage=all.\n\n**93 \"I think 'inside the box' \":** Erowid Experience Vaults, accessed Dec. 14, 2010, www.erowid.org\/experiences\/exp.php?ID=56716.\n\n**93 \"a generation of very focused accountants\":** Talbot, \"Brain Gain.\"\n\n**94 \"an analogy no one has ever seen\":** Arthur Koestler, _Art of Creation_ (New York: Arkana, 1989), 82.\n\n**94 \"uncovers, selects, re-shuffles, combines, synthesizes\":** Ibid., 86.\n\n**95 the key to creative thought:** Hans Eysenck, _Genius: The Natural History of Creativity_ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995).\n\n**95 box represents the solution horizon:** Hans Eysenck, \"Creativity and Personality: Suggestions for a Theory,\" _Psychological Inquiry,_ 4, no. 3 (1993): 147\u201378.\n\n**97 no idea what they're looking for:** Aharon Kantorovich and Yuval Ne'eman, \"Serendipity as a Source of Evolutionary Progress in Science,\" _Studies in History and Philosophy of Science, Part A,_ 20, no. 4: 505\u201329.\n\n**98 attach the candle to the wall:** Karl Duncker, \"On Problem Solving,\" _Psychological Monographs_ , 58 (1945).\n\n**98 reluctance to \"break perceptual set\":** George Katona, _Organizing and Memorizing_ (New York: Columbia University Press, 1940).\n\n**99 creative people tend to see things:** Arthur Cropley, _Creativity in Education and Learning_ (New York: Longmans, 1967).\n\n**99 \"sorted a total of 40 objects\":** N. J. C. Andreases and Pauline S. Powers, \"Overinclusive Thinking in Mania and Schizophrenia,\" _British Journal of Psychology_ 125 (1974): 452\u201356.\n\n**99 a \"thing with weight\":** Cropley, _Creativity,_ 39.\n\n**100 \"Stop counting\u2014there are 43 pictures\":** Richard Wiseman, _The Luck Factor_ (New York: Hyperion, 2003), 43\u201344.\n\n**101 bilinguists are more creative than monolinguists:** Charlan Nemeth and Julianne Kwan, \"Minority Influence, Divergent Thinking and Detection of Correct Solutions,\" _Journal of Applied Social Psychology_ , 17, I. 9 (1987): 1, accessed Feb. 7, 2011, <http:\/\/onlinelibrary.wiley.com\/doi\/10.1111\/j.1559-1816.1987.tb00339.x\/abstract>.\n\n**101 foreign ideas help us:** W. M. Maddux, A. K. Leung, C. Chiu, and A. Galinsky, \"Toward a More Complete Understanding of the Link Between Multicultural Experience and Creativity,\" _American Psychologist_ 64 (2009): 156\u201358.\n\n**102 illustrates how creativity arises:** Steven Johnson, _Where Good Ideas Come From: The Natural History of Innovation_ (New York: Penguin, 2010), _ePub Bud_ , accessed Feb 7, 2011, www.epubbud.com\/read.php?g=LN9DVC8S.\n\n**102 \"wide and diverse sample of spare parts\":** Ibid., 6.\n\n**102 \"environments that are powerfully suited\":** Ibid., 3.\n\n**102 \" 'serendipity' article in Wikipedia\":** Ibid., 13.\n\n**103 \"shift from exploration and discovery\":** John Battelle, _The Search: How Google and Its Rivals Rewrote the Rules of Business and Transformed Our Culture_ (New York: Penguin, 2005), 61.\n\n**103 \"database of intentions\":** Ibid.\n\n**104 \"We need help overcoming rationality\":** David Gelernter, _Time to Start Taking the Internet Seriously,_ accessed Dec. 14, 2010, www.edge.org\/3rd_culture\/gelernter10\/gelernter10_index.html.\n\n**105 \"a vast island called California\":** Garci Rodriguez de Montalvo, _The Exploits of Esplandian_ (Madrid: Editorial Castalia, 2003).\n\n#  **Chapter Four: The You Loop**\n\n**109 \"what a personal computer really is\":** Sharon Gaudin, \"Total Recall: Storing Every Life Memory in a Surrogate Brain,\" _ComputerWorld,_ Aug. 2, 2008, accessed Dec. 15, 2010, www.computerworld.com\/s\/article\/9074439\/Total_Recall_Storing_every_life_memory_in_a_surrogate_brain.\n\n**109 \"You have one identity\":** David Kirkpatrick, _The Facebook Effect: The Inside Story of the Company That Is Connecting the World_ (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2010), 199.\n\n**109 \"I behave a different way\":** \"Live-Blog: Zuckerberg and David Kirkpatrick on the Facebook Effect,\" transcript of interview, _Social Beat_ , accessed Dec. 15, 2010, <http:\/\/venturebeat.com\/2010\/07\/21\/live-blog-zuckerberg-and-david-kirkpatrick-on-the-facebook-effect>.\n\n**110 \"Same awkward self\":** Ibid.\n\n**110 that would be the norm:** Marshall Kirkpatrick, \"Facebook Exec: All Media Will Be Personalized in 3 to 5 Years,\" _ReadWriteWeb_ , Sept. 29, 2010, accessed Dec. 15, 2010, www.readwriteweb.com\/archives\/facebook_exec_all_media_will_be_personalized_in_3.php.\n\n**110 \"a world that all may enter\":** John Perry Barlow, A Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace, Feb. 8, 1996, accessed Dec. 15, 2010, https:\/\/projects.eff.org\/~barlow\/Declaration-Final.html.\n\n**111 pseudonym with the real name:** Julia Angwin and Steve Stecklow, \"'Scrapers' Dig Deep for Data on Web,\" _Wall Street Journal,_ Oct. 12, 2010, accessed Dec. 15, 2010, <http:\/\/online.wsj.com\/article\/SB10001424052748703358504575544381288117888.html>.\n\n**111 tied to the individual people who use them:** Julia Angwin and Jennifer Valentino-Devries, \"Race Is On to 'Fingerprint' Phones, PCs,\" _Wall Street Journal_ , Nov. 30, 2010, accessed Jan. 30, 2011, <http:\/\/online.wsj.com\/article\/SB10001424052748704679204575646704100959546.html?mod=ITP_pageone_0>.\n\n**112 information sources make us freer:** Yochai Benkler, \"Of Sirens and Amish Children: Autonomy, Information, and Law,\" _New York University Law Review_ , 76 no. 23 (April 2001): 110.\n\n**115 \"more than the bits of data\":** Daniel Solove, _The Digital Person: Technology and Privacy in the Information Age_ (New York: New York University Press, 2004), 45.\n\n**116 how someone behaves from who she is:** E. E. Jones and V.A. Harris, \"The Attribution of Attitudes,\" _Journal of Experimental Social Psychology_ 3 (1967): 1\u201324.\n\n**116 electrocute other subjects:** Stanley Milgram, \"Behavioral Study of Obedience,\" _Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology_ 67 (1963): 371\u201378.\n\n**116 The plasticity of the self:** Paul Bloom, \"First Person Plural,\" _Atlantic_ (Nov. 2008), accessed Dec. 15, 2010, www.theatlantic.com\/magazine\/archive\/2008\/11\/first-person-plural\/7055.\n\n**117 aspirations played against their current desires:** Katherine L. Milkman, Todd Rogers, and Max H. Bazerman, \"Highbrow Films Gather Dust: Time-Inconsistent Preferences and Online DVD Rentals,\" _Management Science_ 55, no. 6 (June 2009): 1047\u201359, accessed Jan. 29, 2011, <http:\/\/opimweb.wharton.upenn.edu\/documents\/research\/Highbrow.pdf>.\n\n**117 \"want\" movies like** _**Sleepless in Seattle**_ **:** Milkman, et al., \"Highbrow Films Gather Dust.\"\n\n**118 \"nuances of what it means to be human\":** John Battelle, phone interview with author, Oct. 12, 2010.\n\n**118 Google is working on it:** Jonathan McPhie, phone interview with author, Oct. 13, 2010.\n\n**119 the \"toxic knowledge\" that might result:** Mark Rothstein, as quoted in Cynthia L. Hackerott, J.D., and Martha Pedrick, J.D., \"Genetic Information Nondiscrimination Act Is a First Step; Won't Solve the Problem,\" Oct. 1, 2007, accessed Feb. 9, www.metrocorpcounsel.com\/current.php?artType=view&artMonth=January&artYear=2011&EntryNo=7293.\n\n**119 \"The digital ghost of Jay Gatz\":** Siva Vaidyanathan, \"Naked in the 'Nonopticon,' \" _Chronicle Review_ 54, no. 23: B7.\n\n**120 \"high cognition\" arguments:** Dean Eckles, phone interview with author, Nov. 9, 2010.\n\n**120 increase the effectiveness of marketing:** Ibid.\n\n**122 pitches framed as sweepstakes:** PK List Marketing, \"Free to Me\u2014Impulse Buyers,\" accessed Jan. 28, 2011, www.pklistmarketing.com\/Data%20Cards\/Opportunity%20Seekers%20&%20Sweepstakes%20Participants\/Cards\/Free%20To%20Me%20-%20Impulse%20Buyers.htm.\n\n**123 \"smartphone to be doing searches constantly\":** Robert Andrews, \"Google's Schmidt: Autonomous, Fast Search Is 'Our New Definition,' \" _paidContent_ , Sept. 7, 2010, accessed Dec. 15, 2010, <http:\/\/paidcontent.co.uk\/article\/419-googles-schmidt-autonomous-fast-search-is-our-new-definition>.\n\n**124 \" 'Not-So-Minimal' Consequences of Television News\":** Shanto Iyengar, Mark D. Peters, and Donald R. Kinder, \"Experimental Demonstrations of the 'Not-So-Minimal' Consequences of Television News Programs,\" _American Political Science Review_ 76, no. 4 (1982): 848\u201358.\n\n**124 \"believe that defense or pollution\":** Ibid.\n\n**124 strength of this priming effect:** Drew Westen, _The Political Brain: The Role of Emotion in Deciding the Fate of the Nation_ (Cambridge, MA: Perseus, 2007).\n\n**125 study by Hasher and Goldstein:** Lynn Hasher and David Goldstein, \"Frequency and the Conference of Referential Validity,\" _Journal of Verbal Learning and Verbal Behaviour_ 16 (1977): 107\u201312.\n\n**126 \"surrounded by downward-sloping land\":** Matt Cohler, phone interview with author, Nov. 23, 2010.\n\n**128 results had been randomly redistributed:** Robert Rosenthal and Lenore Jacobson, \"Teachers' Expectancies: Determinants of Pupils' IQ Gains,\" _Psychological Reports,_ 19 (1966): 115\u201318.\n\n**129 \"network-based categorizations\":** Dalton Conley, _Elsewhere, U.S.A.: How We Got from the Company Man, Family Dinners, and the Affluent Society to the Home Office, BlackBerry Moms, and Economic Anxiety_ (New York: Pantheon, 2008), 164.\n\n**130 \"Model-T version of what's possible\":** Geoff Duncan, \"Netflix Offers $1Mln for Good Movie Picks,\" _Digital Trends,_ Oct. 2, 2006, accessed Dec. 15, 2010, www.digitaltrends.com\/computing\/netflix-offers-1-mln-for-good-movie-picks.\n\n**130 \"a PC and some great insight\":** Katie Hafner, \"And If You Liked the Movie, a Netflix Contest May Reward You Handsomely,\" _New York Times,_ Oct. 2, 2006, accessed Dec. 15, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2006\/10\/02\/technology\/02netflix.html.\n\n**131 success using social-graph data:** Charlie Stryler **,** Marketing Panel at 2010 Social Graph Symposium, Microsoft Campus, Mountain View, CA, May 21, 2010.\n\n**132 \"the creditworthiness of your friends\":** Julia Angwin, \"Web's New Gold Mine,\" _Wall Street Journal_ , July 30, 2010, accessed on Feb. 7, 2011, <http:\/\/online.wsj.com\/article\/SB10001424052748703940904575395073512989404.html>.\n\n**133 reality doesn't work that way:** David Hume, _An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding_ , Harvard Classics, volume 37, Section VII, Part I, online edition, (P. F. Collier & Son; 1910), accessed Feb. 7, 2011, <http:\/\/18th.eserver.org\/hume-enquiry.html>.\n\n**133 purpose of science, for Popper:** Karl Popper, _The Logic of Scientific Discovery_ (New York: Routledge, 1992).\n\n**135 \"no more incidents or adventures in the world\":** Fyodor Dostoevsky, _Notes from Underground,_ trans. Richard Pevear and Laura Volokhonsky (New York: Random House, 1994), 24.\n\n#  **Chapter Five: The Public Is Irrelevant**\n\n**137 \"others who see what we see\":** Hannah Arendt, _The Portable Hannah Arendt_ (New York: Penguin, 2000), 199.\n\n**137 \"neutralize the influence of the newspapers\":** Alexis de Tocqueville, _Democracy in America_ (New York: Penguin, 2001).\n\n**138 \"a gross violation of Chinese sovereignty\":** \"NATO Hits Chinese Embassy,\" _BBC News,_ May 8, 1999, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, <http:\/\/news.bbc.co.uk\/2\/hi\/europe\/338424.stm>.\n\n**138 \"most vital are the largely anonymous online forums\":** Tom Downey, \"China's Cyberposse,\" _New York Times,_ Mar. 3, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2010\/03\/07\/magazine\/07Human-t.html?pagewanted=1.\n\n**138 \"an elite, wired section of the population\":** Shanthi Kalathil and Taylor Boas, \"Open Networks, Closed Regimes: The Impact of the Internet on Authoritarian Rule,\" _First Monday_ 8, no. 1\u20136 (2003).\n\n**139 \"Shareholders want to make money\":** Clive Thompson, \"Google's China Problem (and China's Google Problem),\" _New York Times,_ Apr. 23, 2006, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2006\/04\/23\/magazine\/23google.html.\n\n**139 \"What the government cares about\":** James Fallows, \"The Connection Has Been Reset,\" _Atlantic,_ Mar. 2008, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.theatlantic.com\/magazine\/archive\/2008\/03\/-ldquo-the-connection-has-been-reset-rdquo\/6650.\n\n**139 \"peer pressure, and self-censorship\":** Fallows, \"Connection Has Been Reset.\"\n\n**140 \"sense that they're looking at everything\":** Thompson, \"Google's China Problem.\"\n\n**140 \"Internet Police will maintain order\":** Hong Yan, \"Image of Internet Police: JingJang and Chacha Online,\" _China Digital Times,_ Feb. 8, 2006, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, <http:\/\/chinadigitaltimes.net\/china\/internet-police\/page\/2>.\n\n**140 \"see my friends, live happily\":** Thompson, \"Google's China Problem.\"\n\n**140 \"if Internet users have some porn\":** Associated Press, \"Web Porn Seeps Through China's Great Firewall,\" July 22, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.cbsnews.com\/stories\/2010\/07\/22\/tech\/main6703860.shtml.\n\n**141 \"trying to nail Jell-O to the wall\":** Bill Clinton, \"America's Stake in China,\" _Blueprint_ , June 1, 2000, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.dlc.org\/ndol_ci.cfm?kaid=108&subid=128&contentid=963.\n\n**142 \"able to get handheld American flags?\":** Laura Miller and Sheldon Rampton, \"The Pentagon's Information Warrior: Rendon to the Rescue,\" _PR Watch_ 8, no. 4 (2001).\n\n**142 \"border patrols are] replaced by beaming patrols\":** John Rendon, as quoted in Franklin Foer, \"Flacks Americana,\" _New Republic_ , May 20, 2002, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, [www.tnr.com\/article\/politics\/flacks-americana?page=0,2.\n\n**142 thesaurus:** John Rendon, phone interview by author, Nov. 1, 2010.\n\n**143 \"consume, distribute, and create\":** Eric Schmidt and Jared Cohen, \"The Digital Disruption: Connectivity and the Diffusion of Power,\" _Foreign Affairs (_ Nov.\u2013Dec. 2010).\n\n**144 Flatow was an Olympic gymnast:** Stephen P. Halbrook, \"'Arms in the Hands of Jews Are a Danger to Public Safety': Nazism, Firearm Registration, and the Night of the Broken Glass, _St. Thomas Law Review_ 21 (2009): 109\u201341, 110, www.stephenhalbrook.com\/law_review_articles\/Halbrook_macro_final_3_29.pdf.\n\n**145 the cloud \"is actually just a handful of companies\":** Clive Thompson, interview with author, Brooklyn, NY, Aug. 13, 2010.\n\n**145 there was nowhere to go:** Peter Svensson, \"WikiLeaks Down? Cables Go Offline After Site Switches Servers,\" _Huffington Post_ , Dec. 1, 2010, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, www.huffingtonpost.com\/2010\/12\/01\/wikileaks-down-cables-go-_n_790589.html.\n\n**145 \"lose your constitutional protections immediately\":** Christopher Ketcham and Travis Kelly, \"The More You Use Google, the More Google Knows About You,\" _AlterNet,_ Apr. 9, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.alternet.org\/investigations\/146398\/total_information_awareness:_the_more_you_use_google,_the_more_google_knows_about_you _?page=entire.\n\n**146 \"cops will love this\":** \"Does Cloud Computing Mean More Risks to Privacy?,\" _New York Times_ , Feb. 23, 2009, accessed Feb. 8, 2011, <http:\/\/bits.blogs.nytimes.com\/2009\/02\/23\/does-cloud-computing-mean-more-risks-to-privacy>.\n\n**146 the three companies quickly complied:** Antone Gonsalves, \"Yahoo, MSN, AOL Gave Search Data to Bush Administration Lawyers,\" _Information Week_ , Jan. 19, 2006, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, www.informationweek.com\/news\/security\/government\/showArticle.jhtml?articleID=177102061.\n\n**146 predict future real-world events:** Ketcham and Kelly, \"The More You Use Google.\"\n\n**146 \"an individual must increasingly give information\":** Jonathan Zittrain, _The Future of the Internet\u2014and How to Stop It_ (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008), 201.\n\n**147 \"an implicit bargain in our behavior\":** John Battelle, phone interview with author, Oct. 12, 2010.\n\n**147 \"redistribution of information power\":** Viktor Mayer-Schonberger, _Delete: The Virtue of Forgetting in the Digital Age_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009), 107.\n\n**148 real-world violence:** George Gerbner, \"TV Is Too Violent Even Without Executions,\" _USA Today_ , June 16, 1994, 12A, accessed Feb. 9, 2011 through LexisNexis.\n\n**149 \"who tells the stories of a culture\": \"** Fighting 'Mean World Syndrome,' \" _GeekMom_ blog, _Wired_ , Jan. 27, 2011, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, www.wired.com\/geekdad\/2011\/01\/fighting-%E2%80%9Cmean-world-syndrome%E2%80%9D\/.\n\n**149 friendly world syndrome:** Dean Eckles, \"The 'Friendly World Syndrome' Induced by Simple Filtering Rules,\" _Ready-to-Hand: Dean Eckles on People, Technology, and Inference_ blog, Nov. 10, 2010, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, www.deaneckles.com\/blog\/386_the-friendly-world-syndrome-induced-by-simple-filtering-rules\/.\n\n**149 gravitated toward Like:** \"What's the History of the Awesome Button (That Eventually Became the Like Button) on Facebook?\" Quora Forum, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.quora.com\/Facebook-company\/Whats-the-history-of-the-Awesome-Button-that-eventually-became-the-Like-button-on-Facebook.\n\n**151 \"against the cruise line industry\":** Hollis Thomases, \"Google Drops Anti-Cruise Line Ads from AdWords,\" Web Ad.vantage, Feb. 13, 2004, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.webadvantage.net\/webadblog\/google-drops-anti-cruise-line-ads-from-adwords-338.\n\n**151\u201352 identify who was persuadable:** \"How Rove Targeted the Republican Vote,\" _Frontline_ , accessed Feb. 8, 2011, www.pbs.org\/wgbh\/pages\/frontline\/shows\/architect\/rove\/metrics.html.\n\n**152 \"Amazon's recommendation engine is the direction\":** Mark Steitz and Laura Quinn, \"An Introduction to Microtargeting in Politics,\" accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.docstoc.com\/docs\/43575201\/An-Introduction-to-Microtargeting-in-Politics.\n\n**153 round-the-clock \"war room\":** \"Google's War Room for the Home Stretch of Campaign 2010,\" e.politics, Sept. 24, 2010, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, www.epolitics.com\/2010\/09\/24\/googles-war-room-for-the-home-stretch-of-campaign-2010\/.\n\n**155 \"campaign wanted to spend on Facebook\":** Vincent R. Harris, \"Facebook's Advertising Fluke,\" _TechRepublican_ , Dec. 21, 2010, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, <http:\/\/techrepublican.com\/free-tagging\/vincent-harris>.\n\n**155 have the ads pulled off the air:** Monica Scott, \"Three TV Stations Pull 'Demonstrably False' Ad Attacking Pete Hoekstra,\" _Grand Rapids Press,_ May 28, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.mlive.com\/politics\/index.ssf\/2010\/05\/three_tv_stations_pull_demonst.html.\n\n**157 \"improve the likelihood that a registered Republican\":** Bill Bishop, _The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America Is Tearing Us Apart_ (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2008), 195.\n\n**157 \"likely to be most salient in the politics\":** Ronald Inglehart, _Modernization and Postmodernization_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), 10.\n\n**159 Pabst began to sponsor hipster events:** Neal Stewart, \"Marketing with a Whisper,\" _Fast Company,_ Jan. 11, 2003, accessed Jan. 30, 2011, www.fastcompany.com\/fast50_04\/winners\/stewart.html.\n\n**159 \"$44 in US currency\":** Max Read, \"Pabst Blue Ribbon Will Run You $44 a Bottle in China,\" _Gawker_ , July 21, 2010, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, <http:\/\/m.gawker.com\/5592399\/pabst-blue-ribbon-will-run-you-44-a-bottle-in-china>.\n\n**160 \"I serve as a blank screen\":** Barack Obama, _The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream_ (New York: Crown, 2006), 11.\n\n**161 \"We lose all perspective\":** Ted Nordhaus, phone interview with author, Aug. 31, 2010.\n\n**162 \"the source is basically in thought\":** David Bohm, _Thought as a System_ (New York: Routledge, 1994) 2.\n\n**163 \"participants in a pool of common meaning\":** David Bohm, _On Dialogue_ (New York: Routledge, 1996), x\u2013xi.\n\n**164 \"define and express its interests\":** John Dewey, _The Public and Its Problems_ (Athens, OH: Swallow Press, 1927), 146.\n\n#  **Chapter Six: Hello, World!**\n\n**165 \"no intelligence or skill in navigation\":** Plato, _First Alcibiades_ , in _The Dialogues of Plato,_ vol. 4, trans. Benjamin Jowett (Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1871), 559.\n\n**166 \"We are as Gods\":** Stewart Brand, _Whole Earth Catalog_ (self-published, 1968), accessed Dec. 16, 2010, <http:\/\/wholeearth.com\/issue\/1010\/article\/195\/we.are.as.gods>.\n\n**167 \"make any man (or woman) a god\":** Steven Levy, _Hackers: Heroes of the Computer Revolution_ (New York: Penguin, 2001), 451.\n\n**167 \"having some troubles with my family\":** \"How Eliza Works,\" accessed Dec. 16, 2010, <http:\/\/chayden.net\/eliza\/instructions.txt>.\n\n**168 \"way of acting without consequence\":** Siva Vaidyanathan, phone interview with author, Aug. 9, 2010.\n\n**168 \"not a very good program\":** Douglas Rushkoff, interview with author, New York, NY, Aug. 25, 2010.\n\n**168 \"politics tends to be seen by programmers\":** Gabriella Coleman, \"The Political Agnosticism of Free and Open Source Software and the Inadvertent Politics of Contrast,\" _Anthropological Quarterly_ , 77, no. 3 (Summer 2004): 507\u201319, Academic Search Premier, EBSCOhost _._\n\n**170 \"addictive control as well\":** Levy, _Hackers,_ 73.\n\n**172 \"Howdy\" is a better opener than \"Hi\":** Christian Rudder, \"Exactly What to Say in a First Message,\" Sept. 14, 2009, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, <http:\/\/blog.okcupid.com\/index.php\/online-dating-advice-exactly-what-to-say-in-a-first-message>.\n\n**173 \"hackers don't tend to know any of that\":** Steven Levy, \"The Unabomber and David Gelernter,\" _New York Times,_ May 21, 1995, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, www.unabombers.com\/News\/95-11-21-NYT.htm.\n\n**174 \"engineering relationships among people\":** Langdon Winner, \"Do Artifacts Have Politics?\" _Daedalus_ 109, no. 1 (Winter 1980): 121\u201336.\n\n**175 \"code is law\":** Lawrence Lessig, _Code_. (New York: Basic Books, 2006).\n\n**175 \"choose structures for technologies\":** Winner, \"Do Artifacts Have Politics.\"\n\n**176 Hacker Jargon File:** The Jargon File, Version 4.4.7, Appendix B. A Portrait of J. Random Hacker, accessed Feb. 9, 2011, <http:\/\/linux.rz.ruhr-uni-bochum.de\/jrgon\/html\/politics.html>.\n\n**177 \"social utility\" as if it's a twenty-first-century phone company:** Mark Zuckerberg executive bio, Facebook press room, accessed on Feb. 8, 2011, <http:\/\/www.facebook.com\/press\/info.php?execbios>.\n\n**178 \"come to Google because they choose to\":** Greg Jarboe, \"A 'Fireside Chat' with Google's Sergey Brin,\" Search Engine Watch, Oct. 16, 2003, accessed Dec. 16,2010, <http:\/\/searchenginewatch.com\/3081081>.\n\n**178 \"the future will be personalized\":** Gord Hotckiss, \"Just Behave: Google's Marissa Mayer on Personalized Search,\" Searchengineland, Feb. 23, 2007, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, <http:\/\/searchengineland.com\/just-behave-googles-marissa-mayer-on-personalized-search-10592>.\n\n**179 \"It's technology, not business or government\":** David Kirpatrick, \"With a Little Help from his Friends,\" _Vanity Fair_ (Oct. 2010), accessed Dec. 16, 2010, www.vanityfair.com\/culture\/features\/2010\/10\/sean-parker-201010.\n\n**179 \"seventh kingdom of life\":** Kevin Kelly, _What Technology Wants_ (New York: Viking, 2010).\n\n**180 \"shirt or fleece that I own\":** Mark Zuckerberg, remarks to Startup School Conference, _XConomy_ , Oct. 18, 2010, accessed Feb. 8, 2010, www.xconomy.com\/san-francisco\/2010\/10\/18\/mark-zuckerberg-goes-to-startup-school-video\/\/.\n\n**181 \" 'the rest of the world is wrong' \":** David A. Wise and Mark Malseed, _The Google Story_ (New York: Random House, 2005), 42.\n\n**182 \"tradeoffs with success in other domains\":** Jeffrey M. O'Brien, \"The PayPal Mafia,\" _Fortune,_ Nov. 14, 2007, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, <http:\/\/money.cnn.com\/2007\/11\/13\/magazines\/fortune\/paypal_mafia.fortune\/index2.htm>.\n\n**183 sold to eBay for $1.5 billion:** Troy Wolverton, \"It's official: eBay Weds PayPal,\" _CNET News,_ Oct. 3, 2002, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, <http:\/\/news.cnet.com\/Its-official-eBay-weds-PayPal\/2100-1017_3-960658.html>.\n\n**183 \"impact and force change\":** Peter Thie, \"Education of a Libertarian,\" _Cato Unbound_ , Apr. 13, 2009, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, www.cato-unbound.org\/2009\/04\/13\/peter-thiel\/the-education-of-a-libertarian.\n\n**183 \"end the inevitability of death and taxes\":** Chris Baker, \"Live Free or Drown: Floating Utopias on the Cheap,\" _Wired,_ Jan. 19, 2009, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, www.wired.com\/techbiz\/startups\/magazine\/17-02\/mf_seasteading?currentPage=all.\n\n**183 \" 'capitalist democracy' into an oxymoron\":** Thiel, \"Education of a Libertarian.\"\n\n**184 \"makes a living being against computers\":** Nicholas Carlson, \"Peter Thiel Says Don't Piss Off the Robots (or Bet on a Recovery),\" _Business Insider,_ Nov. 18, 2009, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, www.businessinsider.com\/peter-thiel-on-obama-ai-and-why-he-rents-his-mansion-2009-11#.\n\n**184 \"which technologies to foster\":** Ronald Bailey, \"Technology Is at the Center,\" Reason.com, May 2008, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, <http:\/\/reason.com\/archives\/2008\/05\/01\/technology-is-at-the-center\/singlepage>.\n\n**184 \"way I think about the business\":** Deepak Gopinath, \"PayPal's Thiel Scores 230 Percent Gain with Soros-Style Fund,\" CanadianHedgeWatch .com _,_ Dec. 4, 2006, accessed Jan. 30, 2011, at www.canadianhedgewatch.com\/content\/news\/general\/?id=1169.\n\n**184 \"that voting will make things better\":** Peter Thiel, \"Your Suffrage Isn't in Danger. Your Other Rights Are,\" _Cato Unbound,_ May 1, 2009, accessed Dec. 16, 2010, www.cato-unbound.org\/2009\/05\/01\/peter-thiel\/your-suffrage-isnt-in-danger-your-other-rights-are.\n\n**185 talked to Scott Heiferman:** Interview with author, New York, NY, Oct. 5, 2010.\n\n**188 \"good or bad, nor is it neutral\":** Melvin Kranzberg, \"Technology and History: 'Kranzberg's Laws,' \" _Technology and Culture_ 27, no. 3 (1986): 544\u201360.\n\n#  **Chapter Seven: What You Want, Whether You Want It or Not**\n\n**189 \"millions of people doing complicated things\":** Noah Wardrip-Fruin and Nick Montfort, _The New Media Reader,_ Vol. 1 (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2003), 8.\n\n**189 \"yet to be completely correlated\":** Isaac Asimov, _The Intelligent Man's Guide to Science_ (New York: Basic Books, 1965),\n\n**190 \"you've got a problem\":** Bill Jay, phone interview with author, Oct. 10, 2010.\n\n**191 ads tailored to her:** Jason Mick, \"Tokyo's 'Minority Report' Ad Boards Scan Viewer's Sex and Age,\" Daily Tech, July 16, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.dailytech.com\/Tokyos+Minority+Report+Ad+Boards+Scan+Viewers+Sex+and+Age\/article19063.htm.\n\n**191 the future of art:** David Shields, _Reality Hunger: A Manifesto_ (New York: Knopf, 2010). Credit to Michiko Kakutani, whose review led me to this book.\n\n**193 interrogated by a virtual agent:** M. Ryan Calo, \"People Can Be So Fake: A New Dimension to Privacy and Technology Scholarship,\" _Penn State Law Review_ 114 , no. 3 (2010): 810\u201355.\n\n**193 Kismet increased donations by 30 percent:** Vanessa Woods, \"Pay Up, You Are Being Watched,\" _New Scientist,_ Mar. 18, 2005, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.newscientist.com\/article\/dn7144-pay-up-you-are-being-watched.html.\n\n**193 \"Computers programmed to be polite\":** Calo, \"People Can Be So Fake.\"\n\n**194 \"not evolved to twentieth-century technology\":** Ibid.\n\n**195 identity and criminal record in seconds:** Maureen Boyle, \"Video: Catching Criminals? Brockton Cops Have an App for That,\" _Brockton Patriot Ledger,_ June 15, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.patriotledger.com\/news\/cops_and_courts\/x1602636300\/Catching-criminals-Cops-have-an-app-for-that.\n\n**195 \"other images of you with ninety-five percent accuracy\":** Jerome Taylor, \"Google Chief: My Fears for Generation Facebook,\" _Independent,_ Aug. 18, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.independent.co.uk\/life-style\/gadgets-and-tech\/news\/google-chief-my-fears-for-generation-facebook-2055390.html .\n\n**197 \"The future is already here\":** William Gibson, interview on NPR's _Fresh Air,_ Aug. 31, 1993, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.npr.org\/templates\/story\/story.php?storyId=1107153.\n\n**197 your identity already tagged:** \"RFID Bracelet Brings Facebook to the Real World,\" Aug. 20, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.psfk.com\/2010\/08\/rfid-bracelet-brings-facebook-to-the-real-world.html.\n\n**198 \"real world that can be indexed\":** Reihan Salam, \"Why Amazon Will Win the Internet,\" _Forbes,_ July 30, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.forbes.com\/2010\/07\/30\/amazon-kindle-economy-environment-opinions-columnists-reihan-salam.html.\n\n**198 \"some have termed 'smart dust' \":** David Wright, Serge Gutwirth, Michael Friedewald, Yves Punie, and Elena Vildjiounaite, _Safeguards in a World of Ambient Intelligence_ (Berlin\/Dordrecht: Springer Science, 2008): abstract.\n\n**199 four-year joint effort:** Google\/Harvard press release. \"Digitized Book Project Unveils a Quantitative 'Cultural Genome,' \" accessed Feb. 8, 2011, <http:\/\/www.seas.harvard.edu\/news-events\/news-archive\/2010\/digitized-books>.\n\n**200 \"censorship and propaganda\":** Ibid.\n\n**200 nearly sixty languages:** Google Translate Help Page, accessed Feb. 8, 2011, <http:\/\/translate.google.com\/support\/?hl=en>.\n\n**201 better and better:** Nikki Tait, \"Google to translate European patent claims,\" _Financial Times_ , Nov. 29, 2010, accessed Feb. 9, 2010, www.ft.com\/cms\/s\/0\/02f71b76-fbce-11df-b79a-00144feab49a.html.\n\n**202 \"what to do with them\":** Danny Sullivan, phone interview with author, Sept. 10, 2010.\n\n**202 \"flash crash\":** Graham Bowley, \"Stock Swing Still Baffles, with an Ominous Tone,\" _New York Times,_ Aug. 22, 2010, accessed Feb. 8, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2010\/08\/23\/business\/23flash.html.\n\n**202 provocative article in** _**Wired**_ **:** Chris Anderson, \"The End of Theory: The Data Deluge Makes the Scientific Method Obsolete,\" _Wired_ , June 23, 2008, accessed Feb. 10, 2010, <http:\/\/www.wired.com\/science\/discoveries\/magazine\/16-07\/pb_theory>.\n\n**203 greatest achievement of human technology:** Hillis quoted in Jennifer Riskin, _Genesis Redux: Essays in the History and Philosophy of Artificial Life_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007), 200.\n\n**204 \"advertiser-funded media\":** Marisol LeBron, \" 'Migracorridos': Another Failed Anti-immigration Campaign,\" North American Congress of Latin America, Mar. 17, 2009, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, https:\/\/nacla.org\/node\/5625.\n\n**205 characters using the companies' products throughout:** Mary McNamara, \"Television Review: 'The Jensen Project,' \" _Los Angeles Times,_ July 16, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, <http:\/\/articles.latimes>. com\/2010\/jul\/16\/entertainment\/la-et-jensen-project-20100716.\n\n**205 product-placement hooks throughout:** Jenni Miller, \"Hansel and Gretel in 3D? Yeah, Maybe.\" _Moviefone_ blog _,_ July 19, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, <http:\/\/blog.moviefone.com\/2010\/07\/19\/hansel-and-gretel-in-3d-yeah-maybe>.\n\n**205 the corporate owner of Lipslicks:** Motoko Rich, \"Product Placement Deals Make Leap from Film to Books,\" _New York Times,_ Nov. 9, 2008, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2008\/02\/19\/arts\/19iht-20bookplacement.10177632.html?pagewanted=all.\n\n**207 increase \"purchase intentions\" by 21 percent:** John Hauser and Glen Urban, \"When to Morph,\" Aug. 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, <http:\/\/web.mit.edu\/hauser\/www\/Papers\/Hauser-Urban-Liberali_When_to_Morph_Aug_2010.pdf>.\n\n**207 \"turn it into useful information\":** Jane Wardell, \"Raytheon Unveils Scorpion Helmet Technology,\" Associated Press, July 23, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010 at www.boston.com\/business\/articles\/2010\/07\/23\/raytheon_unveils_scorpion_helmet_technology.\n\n**208 \"turns the whole world into a display\":** Wardell, \"Raytheon Unveils Scorpion Helmet Technology.\"\n\n**208 TV experience overlaid on a real game:** Michael Schmidt, \"To Pack a Stadium, Provide Video Better Than TV,\" _New York Times,_ July 28, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2010\/07\/29\/sports\/football\/29stadium.html?_r=1.\n\n**208 AugCog, which uses cognitive neuroscience:** Augmented Cognition International Society Web site, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.augmentedcognition.org.\n\n**209 500 percent increase in working memory:** \"Computers That Read Your Mind,\" _Economist,_ Sept. 21, 2006, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.economist.com\/node\/7904258?story_id=7904258.\n\n**209 at least sixteen different ways:** Gary Hayes, \"16 Top Augmented Reality Business Models,\" _Personalize Media_ (Gary Hayes's blog), Sept. 14, 2009, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.personalizemedia.com\/16-top-augmented-reality-business-models.\n\n**210 solve problems for people:** Chris Coyne, interview with author, New York, NY, Oct. 6, 2010.\n\n**211 \"reality\" is \"one of the few words\":** Vladimir Nabokov, _Lolita_ (New York: Random House, 1997), 312.\n\n**213 powering the marketing campaigns:** David Wright et al., _Safeguards in a World of Ambient Intelligence_ (London: Springer, 2008), 66, accessed through Google eBooks, Feb. 8, 2011.\n\n**214 \"machines make more of their decisions\":** Bill Joy, \"Why the Future Doesn't Need Us,\" _Wired_ (Apr. 2000) accessed Dec. 17, 2010, www.wired.com\/wired\/archive\/8.04\/joy.html.\n\n#  **Chapter Eight: Escape from the City of Ghettos**\n\n**217 \"the nature of his own person\":** Christopher Alexander et al., _A Pattern Language_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977), 8.\n\n**217 \"Long Live the Web\" Sir Tim Berners-Lee, \"Long Live the Web:** A Call for Continued Open Standards and Neutrality,\" _Scientific American_ , Nov. 22, 2010.\n\n**219 \"need to address the core issues\":** Bill Joy, phone interview with author, Oct. 1 2010.\n\n**220 ideal nook for kids:** Alexander et al., _A Pattern Language_ , 445, 928\u201329.\n\n**220 \"distinct pattern language\":** Ibid., xvi.\n\n**220 \"city of ghettos\":** Ibid., 41\u201343.\n\n**221 \"dampens all significant variety\":** Ibid., 43.\n\n**221 \"move easily from one to another\":** Ibid., 48.\n\n**221 \"support for his idiosyncrasies\":** Ibid.\n\n**222 \"psychological equivalent of obesity\":** danah boyd. \"Streams of Content, Limited Attention: The Flow of Information through Social Media,\" _Web2.0 Expo._ New York, NY: Nov. 17, 2007, accessed July 19, 2008, www.danah.org\/papers\/talks\/Web2Expo.html.\n\n**223 how to build a better mousetrap:** \"A Better Mousetrap,\" _This American Life_ no. 366, aired Oct. 10, 2008, www.thisamericanlife.org\/radio-archives\/episode\/366\/a-better-mousetrap-2008.\n\n**223 you'll catch your mouse:** Ibid.\n\n**223 \"jumping out of that recursion loop\":** Matt Cohler, phone interview with author, Nov. 23, 2010.\n\n**226 organ donation rates in different European countries:** Dan Ariely as quoted in Lisa Wade, \"Decision Making and the Options We're Offered,\" _Sociological Images blog,_ Feb. 17, 2010, accessed Dec. 17, 2010, <http:\/\/thesocietypages.org\/socimages\/2010\/02\/17\/decision-making-and-the-options-were-offered\/>.\n\n**229 \"only when regulation is transparent\":** Lawrence Lessig, _Code_ (New York: Basic Books, 2006), 260, http:\/\/books.google.com\/books?id=lmXIMZiU8yQC&pg=PA260&lpg=PA260&dq=lessig+political+response+transparent+code&source=bl&ots=wR0WRuJ61u&sig=iSIiM0pnEaf-o5VPvtGcgXXEeL8&hl=en&ei=1bI0TfykGsH38Ab7-tDJCA&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CBcQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false.\n\n**230 \"one of the world's worst kept secrets\":** Amit Singhal, \"Is Google a Monopolist? A Debate,\" Opinion Journal, _Wall Street Journal,_ Sept. 17, 2010, <http:\/\/online.wsj.com\/article\/SB10001424052748703466704575489582364177978.html?mod=googlenews_wsj#U301271935944OEB>.\n\n**231 \"honest and objective about ourselves\":** \"Philip Foisie's memos to the management of the _Washington Post_ ,\" Nov. 10, 1969, accessed Dec. 20, 2010, <http:\/\/newsombudsmen.org\/articles\/origins\/article-1-mcgee>.\n\n**231 \"the common good\":** Arthur Nauman, \"News Ombudsmanship: Its Theory and Rationale,\" Press Regulation: How Far Has it Come? symposium, Seoul, South Korea, June 1994.\n\n**232 that this expectation is one that ... most Americans share:** Jeffrey Rosen, \"The Web Means the End of Forgetting,\" _New York Times Magazine_ , July 21, 2010, www.nytimes.com\/2010\/07\/25\/magazine\/25privacy-t2.html?_r=1 &pagewanted=all.\n\n**235 \"help it find a larger audience\":** Author interview with confidential source.\n\n**237 Google is just a company:** \"Transcript: Stephen Colbert Interviews Google's Eric Schmidt on _The Colbert Report,_ \" Search Engine Land _,_ Sept. 22, 2010, accessed Dec. 20, 2010, <http:\/\/searchengineland.com\/googles-schmidt-colbert-report-51433>.\n\n**237 expose their audiences to both sides:** Cass R. Sunstein, _Republic .com_ (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001).\n\n**240 \"we shouldn't have to accept\":** Caitlin Petre phone interview with Marc Rotenberg, Nov. 5, 2010.\n\n**241 and 70 percent do:** \"Mistakes Do Happen: Credit Report Errors Mean Consumers Lose,\" US PIRG, accessed Feb. 8, 2010, <http:\/\/www.uspirg.org\/home\/reports\/report-archives\/financial-privacy\u2013security\/financial-privacy-security\/mistakes-do-happen-credit-report-errors-mean-consumers-lose>.\n**INDEX**\n\n##\n\naccessibility bias\n\n_Act of Creation, The_ (Koestler)\n\nAcxiom\n\nAdderall\n\nadvertars\n\nadvertiser-funded media (AFM)\n\nadvertising\n\naugmented reality and\n\nbrand fragmentation and\n\nday-parting and\n\ndisclosure of personalization in\n\nin social spaces\n\non television\n\nAfghanistan\n\nagents:\n\nhumanlike\n\nintelligent\n\nAlexander, Christopher\n\nalgorithms\n\nCineMatch\n\nEdgeRank\n\nGoogle search\n\nOkCupid\n\nPageRank\n\npolitical districts and\n\nAmazon\n\nKindle\n\nWeb Services\n\nambient intelligence\n\nAmericans for Job Security\n\nAnderson, Chris\n\nAngleton, James Jesus\n\nanonymity\n\nAnti, Michael\n\nApple\n\nNewton\n\narchitecture and design\n\nArendt, Hannah\n\nargument styles\n\nAriely, Dan\n\nArnold, Stephen\n\nart\n\nAsimov, Isaac\n\nAT&T\n\n_Atlantic_\n\nattention crash\n\naugmented cognition (AugCog)\n\naugmented reality\n\n##\n\nBarlow, John Perry\n\nBattelle, John\n\nBay, Michael\n\nbehavioral retargeting\n\nBell, Gordon\n\nBenkler, Yochai\n\nBerners-Lee, Tim\n\nBezos, Jeff\n\nBharat, Krishna\n\nBhat, Tapan\n\nBing\n\nBishop, Bill\n\nBlades, Joan\n\nblogs\n\nBlueCava\n\nBlueKai\n\nBohm, David\n\nBohr, Niels\n\nbooks\n\nadvertising in\n\ndigitized\n\nBosworth, Andrew\n\n_Bowling Alone_ (Putnam)\n\nboyd, danah\n\nBoyd, Wes\n\nBP\n\nbrain\n\nBrand, Stewart\n\nbrand fragmentation\n\nbridges\n\nBrin, Sergey\n\nBurnham, Brad\n\nBurnham, Terence\n\nBush, George W.\n\nBush, Vannevar\n\nBuzzfeed\n\n##\n\nCalifornia\n\nCalo, Ryan\n\nCampbell, Donald\n\nCaro, Robert A.\n\nCatalist\n\ncategories, wide\n\ncensorship\n\nChait, Jon\n\nChina\n\nInternet police in\n\nPabst in\n\nCIA\n\nCineMatch\n\ncities\n\narchitecture and design in\n\nClarium\n\nclick signals\n\nClinton, Bill\n\ncloud\n\nCoca-Cola Village Amusement Park\n\ncode and programmers\n\ncoding, conceptual\n\nCohen, Claudia\n\nCohler, Matt\n\nColeman, Gabriella\n\ncollaborative filtering\n\nconfirmation bias\n\nConley, Dalton\n\ncookies\n\nCort\u00e9s, Hern\u00e1n\n\nCoyne, Chris\n\ncraigslist\n\ncreativity and innovation\n\ncredit reports\n\nCropley, Arthur\n\ncurators, _see_ editors and curators\n\ncuriosity\n\ncybernetics\n\n##\n\nDARPA\n\ndata laundering\n\ndating sites\n\nOkCupid\n\nday-parting\n\nDe Castro, Henrique\n\ndefaults\n\ndemocracy\n\ndialogue and\n\ndesign and architecture\n\nDewey, John\n\ndialogue\n\nDigg\n\nDirectLife\n\ndiscovery\n\ndisintermediation\n\nDixon, Pam\n\nDNA\n\nDo Not Track list\n\nDostoyevsky, Fyodor\n\nDowney, Tom\n\nDuncker, Karl\n\nDyson, Esther\n\n##\n\nEchoMetrix\n\nEckles, Dean\n\nEdgeRank\n\neditors and curators\n\nEliza\n\ne-mail\n\nconstitutional protections and\n\nGmail\n\nengineers\n\nErowid\n\nEurope\n\nevolution\n\nEysenck, Hans\n\n##\n\nFacebook\n\nadvertisements and\n\nEdgeRank and\n\nEverywhere\n\nGoogle and\n\nidentity and\n\nLike button on\n\nlocal-maximum problem and\n\nlock-in and\n\nNews Feeds on\n\npolitical advertising and\n\npolitical involvement and\n\nprivacy policy of\n\nTwitter compared with\n\nfacial recognition\n\nFair Credit Reporting Act\n\nFair Information Practices\n\nFallows, James\n\nFarah, Martha\n\nFBI\n\nFlatow, Alfred\n\nFoer, Josh\n\nFoisie, Philip\n\nFounder's Fund\n\nFoursquare\n\nFrance\n\nFried, Charles\n\nFriedman, Patri\n\nFriedman, Tom\n\nfriendly world syndrome\n\nFriendster\n\n_From Counterculture to Cyberculture_ (Turner)\n\nfundamental attribution error\n\n##\n\nGawker\n\ngeeks\n\nGelernter, David\n\nGellman, Robert\n\ngenetic data\n\nGerbner, George\n\nGibson, William\n\nGilbert, Dan\n\nGlass, Ira\n\nGmail\n\nGoogle\n\nChina and\n\ndashboard of\n\ndigitized books and\n\nDocs\n\n\"Don't be evil\" slogan of\n\nethics and\n\nFacebook and\n\nfacial recognition and\n\nGmail\n\nInstant\n\nlock-in and\n\nNews\n\nOceana and\n\nPageRank\n\nPicasa\n\npolitical advertising and\n\npolitical involvement and\n\nReader\n\nResearch\n\nsearch algorithm of\n\nTranslate\n\nVoice\n\ngovernment\n\nGraber, Doris\n\ngun registration\n\n##\n\nHabermas, Jurgen\n\n_Hackers_ (Levy)\n\nhackers, hacking\n\nHare, Brian\n\nHarris, Vincent\n\nHastings, Reed\n\nHauser, John\n\nHayes, Gary\n\nHeiferman, Scott\n\nHeuer, Richards\n\nHillis, Danny\n\nHoekstra, Pete\n\n_Huffington Post_\n\nhumanlike agents\n\nHume, David\n\n##\n\nIBM\n\nidentity\n\nidentity loops\n\ninduction\n\ninfomercials\n\ninformation gap\n\nInglehart, Ron\n\nInstitute\n\nintelligent agents\n\nInteractive Advertising Bureau (IAB)\n\niPhone\n\nIQ\n\nIraq\n\ni-traffic\n\niTunes\n\nIyengar, Shanto\n\n##\n\njet pilots\n\nJiang Zemin\n\nJobs, Steve\n\nJohnson, Steven\n\nJoy, Bill\n\n##\n\nKaczinski, Ted\n\nKafka, Franz\n\nKalathil, Shanthi\n\nKane, Patrick\n\nKantorovich, Aharon\n\nKatona, George\n\nKayak\n\nKazmaier, Dick\n\nKekule, Friedrich\n\nKeller, Bill\n\nKelly, Kevin\n\nKennedy, John F.\n\nKirkpatrick, David\n\nKlein, Paul\n\nKoestler, Arthur\n\nKranzberg, Melvin\n\nKrohn, Max\n\nKwan, Julianne\n\n##\n\nlanguage translation\n\nLanier, Jaron\n\n_Last Question, The_ (Asimov)\n\nLeanBack\n\nlearning\n\nmachine\n\nleast objectionable programming\n\nLee, Kai-Fu\n\nLessig, Larry\n\nLevy, Steven\n\nLewis, Andrew\n\n_Liberty and the News_ (Lippmann)\n\nLiebling, A. J.\n\nLinkedIn\n\nLinux\n\nLippmann, Walter\n\nLivingston, Jessica\n\nlocal-maximum problem\n\nlock-in\n\n\"Long Live the Web\" (Berners-Lee)\n\nLoopt\n\nLovell, Todd\n\nLowenstein, George\n\nluck\n\nLynch, Zack\n\n##\n\nMa, Jack\n\nMacDougald, Harry\n\nmachine learning\n\nMancini, Paul\n\nMark, David\n\nMayer, Marissa\n\nMayer-Schonberger, Viktor\n\nMcLarty, Mack\n\nMcLuhan, Marshall\n\nMcPhie, Jonathan\n\nMeadowlands\n\nmeaning threats\n\nmean world syndrome\n\nMeetUp\n\nMetcalfe, Bob\n\nMetcalfe's law\n\nMicrosoft\n\nBob\n\nLive\n\nmiddleman, elimination of\n\n_Migra corridos_\n\nMilgram, Stanley\n\nMill, John Stuart\n\n_Minority Report_\n\nMoore's law\n\nMORIS\n\nMoses, Robert\n\nmousetraps\n\nMoveOn\n\nMulvenon, James\n\nMySpace\n\n##\n\nNabokov, Vladimir\n\nNational Rifle Association (NRA)\n\nNational Security Agency (NSA)\n\nNauman, Arthur\n\nNe'eman, Yuval\n\nNegroponte, Nicholas\n\nNemeth, Charlan\n\nNetflix\n\nNetflix Challenge\n\nNewmark, Craig\n\nnews\n\nFacebook feeds\n\nGoogle News\n\npeople-powered\n\nYahoo News\n\nnewspapers\n\neditorial ethics and\n\nombudsmen and\n\n_New York Times_\n\n9\/11\n\nNordhaus, Ted\n\nNorvig, Peter\n\nNosenko, Yuri\n\n##\n\nObama, Barack\n\nOceana\n\n\"Of Sirens and Amish Children\" (Benkler)\n\nOkCupid\n\nOlson, Carrie\n\nOswald, Lee Harvey\n\noverfitting\n\n##\n\nPabst\n\nPage, Larry\n\nPageRank\n\nPalmer, Chris\n\nPalo Alto Research Center (PARC)\n\nPandora\n\nPanelDirector\n\nPareles, Jon\n\nParker, Sean\n\n_Pattern Language, A_ (Alexander et al.)\n\nPayPal\n\nPeekYou\n\npersuasion profiling\n\n_Phantom Public, The_ (Lippmann)\n\nPhilby, Kim\n\nPhorm\n\nPiaget, Jean\n\nPicasa\n\nPicasso, Pablo\n\nPK List Management\n\nPlato\n\npolitics\n\nelectoral districts and\n\npartisans and\n\nprogrammers and\n\nvoting\n\nPopper, Karl\n\npostmaterialism\n\npredictions\n\npresent bias\n\npriming effect\n\nprivacy\n\nFacebook and\n\nfacial recognition and\n\ngenetic\n\nProcter & Gamble\n\nproduct recommendations\n\nProulx, Travis\n\nPulitzer, Joseph\n\npush technology and pull technology\n\nPutnam, Robert\n\n##\n\nQiang, Xiao\n\n##\n\nRapleaf\n\nRather, Dan\n\nRaz, Guy\n\nreality\n\naugmented\n\n_Reality Hunger_ (Shields)\n\nReddit\n\nRendon, John\n\n_Republic.com_ (Sunstein)\n\nretargeting\n\nRFID chips\n\nrobots\n\nRodriguez de Montalvo,\n\nGarci\n\n_Rolling Stone_\n\nRoombas\n\nRotenberg, Marc\n\nRothstein, Mark\n\nRove, Karl\n\nRoyal Caribbean\n\nRubel, Steve\n\nRubicon Project\n\nRumsfeld, Donald\n\nRushkoff, Douglas\n\n##\n\nSalam, Reihan\n\nSandberg, Sheryl\n\nschemata\n\nSchmidt, Eric\n\nSchudson, Michael\n\nSchulz, Kathryn\n\nscience\n\n_Scientific American_\n\nScorpion\n\nsentiment analysis\n\nSentry\n\nserendipity\n\nShields, David\n\nShirky, Clay\n\nSiegel, Lee\n\nsignals\n\nclick\n\nSimonton, Dean\n\nSinghal, Amit\n\n_Sleepwalkers, The_ (Koestler)\n\nsmart devices\n\nSmith, J. 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+{"text":" \nEditor\n\nTheodore Abraham\n\nCase Based EchocardiographyFundamentals And Clinical Practice\n\nEditor\n\nTheodore Abraham\n\nDepts. Neurosurgery & Neurology, John Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, Maryland, USA\n\nISBN 978-1-84996-150-9e-ISBN 978-1-84996-151-6\n\nDOI 10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6\n\nSpringer London Dordrecht Heidelberg New York\n\nBritish Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library\n\n\u00a9 Springer-Verlag London Limited 2011\n\nApart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licenses issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.\n\nThe use of registered names, trademarks, etc., in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.\n\nProduct liability: The publisher can give no guarantee for information about drug dosage and application thereof contained in this book. In every individual case the respective user must check its accuracy by consulting other pharmaceutical literature.\n\nPrinted on acid-free paper\n\nSpringer is part of Springer Science+Business Media (www.springer.com)\n\nPreface\n\nEchocardiography remains the most commonly used cardiac imaging modality in clinical care despite the emergence of competing technologies such as magnetic resonance and computed tomography. Indeed, it is now considered an extension of the stethoscope and physicians without a primary interest in cardiac imaging, such as interventional cardiologists and internists, often view and interpret echocardiograms. Such an expansion of use has been further driven by the availability of smaller devices including some that are only slightly larger than a smartphone. Coincident with these developments there have been several technology advances in echocardiography such as tissue Doppler\/strain and three-dimensional echocardiography. Furthermore, cardiac imaging is rapidly extending beyond the heart and laboratories are now incorporating various vascular imaging protocols as part of their clinical activity. Lastly, the emerging focus on continuing education and certification in echocardiography puts pressure on physicians to keep abreast of basic and new echocardiography.\n\nThere are several well-written echocardiography textbooks and atlases available. The intent of developing this particular handbook was: (1) to offer a succinct guide to echocardiography incorporating topics ranging from fundamental physical principles to important cardiac pathologies and novel technologies, (2) to provide this knowledge in a novel, condensed format enabling easy and quick reference to topics, (3) to enable a sonographer or echocardiographer to be able to use this handbook as a bedside guide to performance and interpretation of echocardiography and (4) to present content that would assist readers in preparing for competency tests in echocardiography, such as the echocardiography boards.\n\nTo give the reader the benefit of most meaningful and up-to-date content, this book sought to bring together a group of renowned experts in echocardiography with substantial experience in clinical echocardiography and particular expertise in various specific echocardiography technologies. The result is a compact yet highly informative handbook that provides as much if not more knowledge than most textbooks with a significantly less investment of time.\n\nThe concept and motivation to develop this book was born out of my years of interaction with cardiology trainees and sonographers in various echocardiography programs. Unbeknownst to them, I learnt as much from them about echocardiography as they did from me. More importantly, they all helped me develop into a better teacher. Although memory and space preclude me from mentioning all those who have helped in getting me here, there are several individuals who have been particularly helpful with developing this book. This list will unfairly exclude many others who have been equally instrumental in our success and I ask their pardon. My deepest gratitude goes out to Allison Hays, Sourabh Verma, and Erin Michos, our associate editors. The book would not materialize without their efforts. I am also highly appreciative of the kind and generous contributions of all the authors, despite their hectic schedules, that have resulted in the outstanding content in this book. Others who have played a major role in getting us here include Hsin-Yueh Liang, Lea Dimaano, Aurelio Pinheiro, Jacob Abraham, Sue Phillip, Heather Richardson, Ken Cresswell, Vickie Spearman, Joe Wassil, and Nancy Grap. Many thanks to Mary Corretti, Ed Kasper, and Gordon Tomaselli for allowing me the time to complete this book. I would also like to particularly thank Cate Rogers and Grant Weston from Springer who were a delight to work with despite all the delays in the production of this book. Lastly, I am deeply indebted to Roselle and Anya Marithea whose understanding and patience allowed me to do this work, and my parents Marjorie and John, my brothers Jason and Francisco, whose help and encouragement all my life and assistance in the last several months allowed me to bring this book to fruition.\n\nTheodore P. Abraham\n\nContents\n\n1 Physics and Artifacts 1\n\nKenneth D. Horton\n\n2 Basic Ultrasound Views 13\n\nKenneth D. Horton\n\n3 Quantification of Left Ventricular Size and Wall Thickness 23\n\nKhaled Bachour and Luis Afonso\n\n4 Quantification of Left Ventricular Systolic Function 33\n\nYasuhiko Takemoto and Minoru Yoshiyama\n\n5 Noninvasive Hemodynamic Assessment 37\n\nJacob Abraham and Kimberly Chadwell\n\n6 Echocardiographi\u200bc Assessment of Diastolic Dysfunction (DD) and Heart Failure with Normal EF (HFnlEF) 47\n\nAnil Mathew and Luis Afonso\n\n7 Tissue Doppler Imaging and Strain Echocardiography\u200b 63\n\nVeronica Lea J. Dimaano\n\n8 Transesophageal Echocardiography\u200b 85\n\nJulie A. Humphries, Christopher J. Kramer, Partho P. Sengupta and Bijoy K. Khandheria\n\n9 Intraoperative Transesophageal Echocardiography\u200b 103\n\nAlina Nicoara and Madhav Swaminathan\n\n10 Use of Echo Contrast in Routine Practice 117\n\nShizhen Liu and Mani A. Vannan\n\n11 Three-Dimensional Echocardiography\u200b 127\n\nLissa Sugeng, Lynn Weinert and Roberto M. Lang\n\n12 Stress Echocardiography\u200b 143\n\nSebastian Kelle\n\n13 Mechanical Dyssynchrony Assessment 149\n\nGabe B. Bleeker, Nico R. Van de Veire, Theodore P. Abraham, Eduard R. Holman and Jeroen J. Bax\n\n14 Post Cardiac Resynchronizatio\u200bn Therapy (CRT) Optimization Protocol 169\n\nHsin-Yueh Liang\n\n15 Echocardiographi\u200bc Assessment of the Right Ventricle 173\n\nHisham Dokainish\n\n16 Aortic Valve Stenosis and Regurgitation 185\n\nVuyisile T. Nkomo\n\n17 Mitral Prolapse Regurgitation and Mitral Stenosis 195\n\nNuasheen Akhter and Issam A. Mikati\n\n18 Right-Sided Heart Valves Assessment in Disease 219\n\nFarouk Mookadam, Julie A. Humphries, Sherif E. Moustafa and Tahlil A. Warsame\n\n19 The Assessment of Prosthetic Valve Function 235\n\nMengistu Simegn, Anupama Kottam and Luis Afonso\n\n20 The Aorta:\u200b Diseases of the Aorta 251\n\nMary C. Corretti\n\n21 Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy 271\n\nAllison G. Hays and Aurelio C. Pinheiro\n\n22 Stress Cardiomyopathy 277\n\nJacob Abraham and Ilan S. Wittstein\n\n23 Pericardial Diseases 283\n\nPartho P. Sengupta and Bijoy K. Khandheria\n\n24 Atrial Septal Defect 297\n\nNaser M. Ammash\n\n25 Percutaneous Interventions for Congenital Heart Defects 303\n\nChristian D. Nagy, Richard E. Ringel and W. Reid Thompson\n\n26 Cardiac Tumors and Masses 311\n\nMary C. Corretti\n\n27 Cardiac Transplantation 319\n\nJames Mudd\n\n28 Vascular Imaging 331\n\nElizabeth V. Ratchford\n\nIndex343\n\nContributors\n\nJacob Abraham\n\nDepartment of Medicine, Johns Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nTheodore P. Abraham\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nLuis Afonso\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Detroit Medical Centre,Wayne State University, Detroit, MI, USA\n\nNausheen Akhter\n\nDivision of Cardiology, The Feinberg School of Medicine, Chicago, IL, USA\n\nNaser M. Ammash\n\nDepartment of Internal Medicine, Mayo Clinic, Rochester, MN, USA\n\nKhaled Bachour\n\nInternal Medicine, Division of Cardiology, University of Pittsburgh, Farrell, PA, USA\n\nJeroen J. Bax\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Leiden University Medical Center, Leiden, The Netherlands\n\nGabe B. Bleeker\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Leiden University Medical Center, Leiden, The Netherlands\n\nMary C. Corretti\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nVeronica Lea J. Dimaano\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nHisham Dokainish\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Baylor College of Medicine, 6620 Main Street-11A.08, 77030 Houston, TX, USA\n\nAllison G. Hays\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nEduard R. Holman\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Leiden University Medical Center, Leiden, The Netherlands\n\nKenneth D. Horton\n\nEcho\/Vascular Laboratory, Intermountain Medical Center, Murray, UT, USA\n\nJulie A. Humphries\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Heart Care Partners, Greenslopes, Queensland, Australia\n\nSebastian Kelle\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, German Heart Institute Berlin, Berlin, Germany\n\nAnupama Kottam\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Detroit Medical Centre, Wayne State University, Detroit, MI, USA\n\nBijoy K. Khandheria\n\nDivision of Cardiovascular Diseases, Mayo Clinic, Rochester, MN, USA\n\nChristopher J. Kramer\n\nAdvanced Hemodynamic and Cardiovascular Laboratory, Aurora Medical Group, Milwaukee, WI, USA\n\nRoberto M. Lang\n\nDepartment of Medicine, University of Chicago Medical Center, Chicago, IL, USA\n\nHsin-Yueh Liang\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Department of Medicine, China Medical University Hospital, Taichung, Taiwan\n\nShizhen Liu\n\nDepartment of Cardiovascular Medicine, The Ohio State University Medical Center, Columbus, OH, USA\n\nAnil Mathew\n\nDetroit Medical Centre, Wayne State University, Detroit, MI, USA\n\nIssam A. Mikati\n\nDepartment of Medicine, Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine, Chicago, IL, USA\n\nFarouk Mookadam\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Mayo College of Medicine, Scottsdale, AZ, USA\n\nSherif E. Moustafa\n\nDepartment of Cardiovascular Diseases, Mayo Clinic Arizona, Scottsdale, AZ, USA\n\nChristian D. Nagy\n\nPediatric Cardiology\/Adult Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University Medical Center, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nAlina Nicoara\n\nDepartment of Anesthesiology, Yale University School of Medicine, West Haven, CT, USA\n\nVuyisile T. Nkomo\n\nDivision of Cardiovascular Diseases and Internal Medicine, Mayo Clinic, Rochester, MN, USA\n\nAurelio C. Pinheiro\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nElizabeth V. Ratchford\n\nDepartment of Medicine, Division of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nRichard E. Ringel\n\nPediatric Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nPartho P. Sengupta\n\nCardiovascular Division, University of California, Irvine, USA\n\nMengistu Simegn\n\nDetroit Medical Centre, Wayne State University, Detroit, MI, USA\n\nLissa Sugeng\n\nSection of Cardiology, Department of Medicine, Non-Invasive Cardiovascular Imaging Laboratory, University of Chicago Medical Center, Chicago, IL, USA\n\nMadhav Swaminathan\n\nDivision of Cardiothoracic, Anesthesiology and Critical Care Medicine, Duke University, Durham, CA, USA\n\nYasuhiko Takemoto\n\nDepartment of Internal Medicine and Cardiology, Osaka City University School of Medicine, Osaka, Japan\n\nW. Reid Thompson\n\nPediatric Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nNico R. Van de Veire\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Leiden University Medical Center, Leiden, The Netherlands\n\nMani A. Vannan\n\nDepartment of Cardiovascular Medicine, The Ohio State University Medical Center, Columbus, OH, USA\n\nTahlil A. Warsame\n\nCardiovascular Ultrasound Imaging and Hemodynamic Laboratory, Mayo Clinic Arizona, Phoenix, AZ, USA\n\nLynn Weinert\n\nUniversity of Chicago Medical Center, Chicago, IL, USA\n\nIlan S. Wittstein\n\nDepartment of Medicine, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nMinoru Yoshiyama\n\nDepartment of Internal Medicine and Cardiology, Osaka City University School of Medicine, Osaka, Japan\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_1\n\n# 1. Physics and Artifacts\n\nKenneth D. Horton1\n\n(1)\n\nEcho\/Vascular Laboratory, Intermountain Medical Center, Murray, UT, USA\n\nKenneth D. Horton\n\nEmail: kd.horton@comcast.net\n\nFig. 1.1\n\nDefinition of sound and ultrasound. Sound is a mechanical vibration that consists of compressions and rarefactions. Sound waves propagate (travel) through various mediums by interactions between the particles that comprise the medium. Therefore, sound cannot travel through a vacuum. The range of hearing in the human ear is 20\u201320,000 Hz. Sound above 20,000 Hz is called ultrasound\n\nFig. 1.2\n\nWave terminology. The combination of one compression and one rarefaction is called one cycle. The number of cycles completed in 1 s is called the frequency. The frequency is measured in units of Hertz or, for ultrasound, megahertz (one million cycles\/s). The distance occupied by one cycle is called the wavelength and the amount of time occupied by one cycle is the period. The strength of the ultrasound signal is the intensity. The higher the amplitude, the greater the intensity of the ultrasound signal\n\nFig. 1.3\n\nInteractions with tissue. As a sound wave strikes, a difference in the medium (acoustic interface) it is traveling through, some of the sound is reflected back to the transducer (reflection) and some continues to travel through the next medium (refraction). As the sound wave travels through a medium, it loses its strength or intensity. This is called attenuation\n\nFig. 1.4\n\nTransducers. A transducer is a device that changes types of energy. An ultrasound transducer has multiple piezioelectric crystals (elements) that can change electrical energy to mechanical energy \u2013 or vice versa. The crystal is surrounded by a dampening material that prevents \"ringing\" when the crystal is activated. The matching layer has an acoustic impendence between that of the transducer and skin and facilitates the transmission of sound into the body\n\nFig. 1.5\n\nBeam characteristics. In an unfocused transducer, sound leaves the transducer, travels parallel for a period of time and then begins to diverge. The area prior to the divergence is called the near zone and the area after the divergence is called the far zone. Using electronic timing or an acoustic lens, the beam can be focused. The resolution is highest in the area of the focal zone. Ultrasound systems have the ability to move the focal zone along the beam to improve the resolution in areas of interest\n\nFig. 1.6\n\nResolution. Resolution is the ability to see two different objects in the imaging field as two different objects and is measured in unit of distance (millimeters). There are multiple types of resolution in ultrasound. The two most common are (a) longitudinal resolution \u2013 resolution along the axis parallel to the direction of the sound propagation and (b) axial resolution \u2013 resolution on the axis perpendicular to the direction of the sound propagation\n\nFig. 1.7\n\nFrame rate. An ultrasound image is created one scan line at a time. When the scan lines are processed across the field of view (sector) one frame is created. The number of frame that is created in 1 s is called the frame rate and is measured in Hertz. The temporal resolution of a system is determined by the frame rate. The higher the frame rate, the better the temporal resolution. In 2D echocardiography, you should attempt to image at the highest frame rate possible\n\nFig. 1.8\n\nM-mode echocardiography. M-mode (motion-mode) echocardiography is a graphical depiction of the ultrasound signal along a single scan line. The temporal resolution of an M-mode tracing is superior to all other echocardiographic modes because the image is only processing the signal from a single scan line and can be updated thousands of times per second\n\nFig. 1.9\n\n2D Echocardiography. 2D echocardiography is a 2D depiction of the heart. It is usually acquired as a moving picture allowing for assessment of the heart throughout systole and diastole. 2D images are either captured on video tape or as digital loops\n\nFig. 1.10\n\nDoppler echocardiography. As its name implies, Doppler images are created using the Doppler effect. Spectral Doppler tracings can be created using either continuous wave (CW) Doppler or pulsed wave (PW) Doppler. CW and PW Doppler each have distinct advantages and disadvantages that determine when each is used. (a) PW Doppler has the advantage of range resolution, or being able to measure flow of a specific point. Its main disadvantage is there is a limit to how high of a velocity it can measure (Nyquist limit). (b) CW Doppler has an unlimited Nyquist limit and therefore can measure very high velocities. Its disadvantage, however, is it does not have range resolution and measures all flows along the cursor\n\nFig. 1.11\n\nColor flow imaging. Color flow imaging is used to detect the direction and velocity of blood flow. Flow is measured at thousands of points within the color flow sector. By convention, flow toward the transducer is colored red-yellow and flow away from the transducer is colored blue-white. Low flow velocities begin with darker shades and the shade increases as flow velocity increases\n\nFig. 1.12\n\n3D echocardiography. 3D images are obtained using a pyramidal volume of pixels (voxels). Once the image is obtained, it can be rotated and cropped to better visualize any structure within the image. In this example, a mitral annular ring was placed. (a) Assessment of the annular ring from the LA perspective (looking down into the LV) and (b) assessment from the LV perspective (looking up into the atrium). Both images were obtained in the same acquisition\n\nFig. 1.13\n\nTissue Doppler Imaging (TDI). Tissue Doppler imaging is a technology that is used to assess the diastolic and systolic velocities of the heart. (a) TDI measures the direction and velocity of the myocardium (instead of blood flow) and color encodes the signal from the myocardium as red or blue depending on the direction of motion. (b) Using special filters, pulsed wave Doppler is used to measure the velocities during (1) systole, (2) early diastole, and (3) late diastole\n\nFig. 1.14\n\nImaging artifacts \u2013 suboptimal images. The quality of the ultrasound image varies greatly from person to person. Even with today's excellent ultrasound systems, there are patients in whom diagnostic imaging is not possible. Assessment of the heart from multiple windows and image optimization using the ultrasound system controls do not always help. In most cases, the use of commercial contrast media (Definity or Optison) can make an undiagnostic ultrasound study diagnostic\n\nFig. 1.15\n\nImaging artifacts \u2013 shadowing. The amount of ultrasound that is returned to the transducer for processing is proportional to the difference in the media forming an acoustic interface. The stronger the acoustic interface, the more of the signal that returns to the transducer leaving little or none to continue to travel forward. It is the areas beyond that acoustic interface where shadowing occurs. Shadowing is overcome by imaging all areas in multiple windows and views\n\nFig. 1.16\n\nImaging artifacts \u2013 reverberation. Reverberation artifact occurs when an ultrasound signal is bounced back and forth between two acoustic interfaces before returning to the transducer. This results erroneously displayed objects in the imaging sector\n\nFig. 1.17\n\nImaging artifacts \u2013 side lobes. Although the majority of the ultrasound signal is processed from the center of the ultrasound beam, there are small lobes on each side of the signal that also processes returning signals. These are called side lobes. The ultrasound system may receive signals from structures within the side lobes and erroneously display them in the center of the imaging sector\n\nFig. 1.18\n\nImaging artifacts \u2013 range ambiguity. Ultrasound images are processed under the assumption that the sound wave is traveling directly to a structure and then being reflected directly back to the transducer. It is also assumed that sound travels at a constant 1,540 m\/s. If either of these assumptions is violated, structures will be displayed at the incorrect depth within the imaging sector. In the pictured example, the depth of the reflected interface would be too deep because the signal was delayed in returning to the transducer\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_2\n\n# 2. Basic Ultrasound Views\n\nKenneth D. Horton1\n\n(1)\n\nEcho\/Vascular Laboratory, Intermountain Medical Center, Murray, UT, USA\n\nKenneth D. Horton\n\nEmail: kd.horton@comcast.net\n\nFig. 2.1\n\nEchocardiographic windows. When performing an echocardiogram, the transducer is placed in multiple areas of the chest. These areas are commonly referred to as \"windows.\" The most common echo windows are: (a) the left parasternal window, (b) the apical window, (c) the subcostal window, and (d) the suprasternal notch. In certain circumstances, imaging from nonstandard windows is required. Some of the nonstandard windows include the right parasternal window and the mid-clavicular window. In some cases, imaging may need to be performed from any area of the chest from where an image can be obtained (Adapted from Servier Medical Art, www.servier.com, with permission)\n\nFig. 2.2\n\nEchocardiographic views. From each window, the transducer is manipulated to obtain \u00admultiple views of the heart. The different views are obtained by rotating and\/or tilting the \u00adtransducer without actually moving it to a new window\n\nFig. 2.3\n\nThe parasternal window. The parasternal long axis (PLAX) view is obtained by placing the transducer in the three to four left intercostal spaces close to the sternum with the bean oriented toward the patient's right shoulder. This orientation slices through the heart on a long axis from base to apex (Adapted from Servier Medical Art, www.servier.com, with permission)\n\nFig. 2.4\n\nThe parasternal window. The parasternal long axis (PLAX) view is obtained by placing the transducer in the third to fourth left intercostal space close to the sternum with the bean oriented toward the patient's right shoulder. This orientation slices through the heart on a long axis from base to apex\n\nFig. 2.5\n\nParasternal long axis \u2013 color flow image. Color flow Doppler imaging is used to assess the valves for regurgitation. Pictured here is a systolic still frame demonstrating regurgitation of blood flow back through the mitral valve into the left atrium\n\nFig. 2.6\n\nRight ventricular inflow (RVIF) view. The RVIF view is obtained by tilting the transducer toward the left shoulder so the ultrasound beam moves anterior in the chest slicing through the right heart. (a) This view is used to assess the right ventricle, tricuspid valve, and right atrium. (b) Color flow and spectral Doppler are used to assess the valve for tricuspid regurgitation\n\nFig. 2.7\n\nParasternal short axis (PSAX) view. The PSAX view is obtained by remaining in the parasternal window and rotating the transducer clockwise approximately 90\u00b0. Sweeping the transducer from base to apex results in: (a) the basal level view, (b) the mitral level view, (c) the papillary level view, and (d) the apical level view. In the basal and mitral level view, color flow Doppler can be used to assess the valves for regurgitation\n\nFig. 2.8\n\nApical views. The apical window is usually found in the left lateral portion of the chest at the apex of the heart. This can sometimes be located by placing your hand lightly in the area of the apex and feeling for the point of maximal intensity (PMI). The PMI will serve as your starting point; however, small adjustments will need to be made to the transducer location to maximally optimize your image (Adapted from Servier Medical Art, www.servier.com, with permission)\n\nFig. 2.9\n\nApical 4 Chamber (4C) view. All four cardiac chambers are visualized in the 4C view along with the mitral and tricuspid valves. Ventricular and atrial size can be assessed using 2D echo. Color flow and spectral Doppler can be used to assess for valvular regurgitation and stenosis. Left ventricular diastolic function can be assessed using pulsed wave Doppler of the mitral valve and pulmonary veins. In this view, the right ventricular freewall, interventricular septum, and left lateral wall can be assessed for systolic motion\n\nFig. 2.10\n\nApical 5 Chamber (5C) view. (a) The 5C view is obtained by tilting the transducer slightly so the beam moves anterior in the chest slicing through the left ventricular outflow track (LVOT) and aortic valve. (b) Utilizing spectral Doppler, the outflow velocity can be measured. In this example, the high-velocity flow pattern indicates aortic stenosis. The aortic valve area can be calculated by integrating data from the 2D images and Doppler tracings\n\nFig. 2.11\n\nApical 2 Chamber (2C) view. The 2C view is obtained by starting at the 4C view and rotating the transducer clockwise approximately 90\u00b0. In the 2C view, the left ventricle, mitral valve, and left atrium can be seen. The inferior and anterior walls of the left ventricle can be assessed for systolic function. Using color flow and spectral Doppler, the mitral valve can be assessed for regurgitation and stenosis\n\nFig. 2.12\n\nApical 3 Chamber (3C) or long axis view. The apical 3C view is also known as the apical long axis view. Structures seen in the 3C view are the same as the parasternal long axis view. The 3C view is utilized to assess chamber size and function as well as aortic and mitral valve function\n\nFig. 2.13\n\nThe subcostal window. Subcostal views are obtained by positioning the patient flat on their back and placing the transducer just below the xiphoid process. Asking the patient to bend their knees may help relax the stomach muscles. Having the patient take a deep breath often moves the lungs out of the way and results in better images (Adapted from Servier Medical Art, www.servier.com, with permission)\n\nFig. 2.14\n\nSubcostal 4 Chamber view. (a) The subcostal 4C view can be used to assess chamber size and function. Color flow and spectral Doppler imaging can be used to assess valvular function. This is also a good view for assessing for atrial or ventricular septal defects. (b) The subcostal view is a good view for assessing the presence and size of a pericardial effusion\n\nFig. 2.15\n\nInferior Vena Cava (IVC) view. Beginning in the subcostal 4C view and rotating the transducer counterclockwise 90\u00b0 and angling toward the liver, the IVC can be seen in long axis. The IVC can be assessed for diameter and collapsibility during respiration. The size and collapsibility of the IVC are used to estimate right atrial pressure\n\nFig. 2.16\n\nSuprasternal window. The suprasternal window is obtained by placing the transducer in the \"notch\" at the top of the sternum (the manubrium). This window is used for 2D imaging and also for assessment of aortic flows with a dedicated continuous wave Doppler transducer (Pedoff probe) (Adapted from Servier Medical Art, www.servier.com, with permission)\n\nFig. 2.17\n\nSuprasternal window. The suprasternal 2D image is used to assess the ascending, transverse, and descending aorta and its branches. The inominate, left carotid, and left subclavian arteries can be seen branching off the aorta. The right pulmonary artery can also be seen in short axis\n\nFig. 2.18\n\nImage optimization \u2013 overall gain. The gain controls the brightness of your image. Optimizing the gain will result in better detection of structures and endocardial borders. (a) Using excessive gain will result in images that are too bright and may make normal structures appearing calcified. (b) Gains should be set at a point that a balance between image brightness and darkness are reached\n\nFig. 2.19\n\nImage optimization \u2013 compression or dynamic range. Compression or dynamic range are controls that affect the number of shades of gray that are displayed in the image. (a) If these are set too high, the image appears washed out and it may be difficult to visualize endocardial borders. (b) The compression or dynamic range should be set so the blood pool is dark and the tissue is bright. This will result in better endocardial border definition\n\nFig. 2.20\n\nImage optimization \u2013 depth and zoom controls. The image depth and zoom controls can be used to optimize the area of interest. In these examples (a) the depth is set too deep resulting in a small image that will be difficult to assess, (b) the depth is set at the correct level so that all structures can be seen in the apical 4C view, and (c) the use of the \"zoom\" control for better assessment of the mitral valve\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_3\n\n# 3. Quantification of Left Ventricular Size and Wall Thickness\n\nKhaled Bachour and Luis Afonso1\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Detroit Medical Centre, Wayne State University, Detroit, MI, USA\n\nLuis Afonso\n\nEmail: lafonso@med.wayne.edu\n\nAbbreviations\n\n  * 2C2 chamber\n\n  * 4C4 chamber\n\n  * LVIDdLeft ventricular inner dimension during diastole\n\n  * LVIDsLeft ventricular inner dimension during systole\n\n  * PWTPosterior wall thickness\n\n  * RWMARegional wall motion abnormalities\n\n  * SWTSeptal wall thickness\n\n## 3.1 LV Wall Thickness and Dimensions\n\n### 3.1.1 Methods\n\n  * Direct 2D\n\n  * 2D-guided M-mode (Table 3.1)\n\nTable 3.1\n\nPros and cons of M-mode and direct 2D methods for assessment of LVIDd, LVIDs, PWT, and SWT | M-Mode | Direct 2D\n\n---|---|---\n\nAdvantages | \u2022?Excellent temporal resolution | \u2022?Preferred with CAD and asymmetrical LV\n\n\u2022?Higher spatial resolution: separates other structures (trabeculae, false tendons) from LV walls | \u2022?Can be used even in oblique parasternal images\n\nDisadvantages | \u2022?Cursor has to be perpendicular to the long axis of the LV | \u2022?Lower spatial resolution: may not be able to separate other structures (trabeculae, false tendons) from LV walls\n\n\u2022?Assume symmetry of LV | \u2022?Lower temporal resolution\n\n### 3.1.2 Technical Points\n\n  * Always from parasternal long axis view (see Fig 3.1)\n\n  * Level: mitral leaflet tips\n\n  * Measurement PWT and SWT, LVIDd and LVIDs is done along the LV minor axis, perpendicular to the long axis of the LV\n\n  * LVIDd, PWT, and SWT are measured during end diastole when both mitral and aortic valves are closed (direct 2D), or at the end of PR segment (M-mode)\n\n  * LVIDs is measured at end systole when both aortic and mitral valves are closed (direct 2D) or at the end of T wave (M-mode)\n\n  * LVID is edged by the blood-endocardium interface edge of the septal and posterior wall, i.e., leading edge of the septum to the trailing edge of the posterior wall\n\n### 3.1.3 Normal Values\n\n  * See Table 3.4\n\n## 3.2 Volumetric Assessment of LV\n\n### 3.2.1 Methods\n\n  * Biplane method of disks (modified Simpson's)\n\n  * Unipolar method of disks\n\n  * Area-length method\n\n  * 3D Volumetric methods: Real-time 3D echocardiography\n\n### 3.2.2 Biplane Method of Disks\n\n  * Using apical 4C and 2C views (Figure 3.2)\n\n  * Long axis of LV is longest dimension extending from the apex to the center of mitral annulas\n\n  * LV cavity is divided into 20 disks perpendicular to the major long axis of the LV\n\n  * Each disk has a height (1\/20 of L), and two dimensions (long and short from the two views)\n\nFig. 3.1\n\n2D guided-linear M-mode dimensions of the left ventricle obtained in end diastole (LVED) and end systole (LVES), along with septal (IVS) and posterior wall (LVPW) thickness, both measured in end-diastole.** ?Bright posterior echoes represent parietal pericardium\n\nFig. 3.2\n\n2D end diastolic and end systolic volumes calculated from the apical 4C (Ap4C) and apical 2C (Ap2C) views in end diastole (LVED) and end systole (LVES), respectively, using the biplane method of disks (modified Simpson's rule). The LV cavity endocardium is traced from the mitral annular plane to the apex of the LV cavity and includes the papillary muscles\n\nFig. 3.3\n\nLV volumes and ejection fraction calculated from a real-time 3D echocardiography full volume acquisition. Regional or segmental function can also be assessed from the time\u2013volume curves (not shown)\n\nFig. 3.4\n\nRelative wall thickness in various forms of LV remodeling (With permission from [1])\n\n  * LV volume is calculated from the summation of volumes of ellipsoid disks along the long axis of LV (Fig. 3.2)\n\n### 3.2.3 Uniplane Method of Disks\n\n  * Variation of biplane method when two orthogonal apical views are not available\n\n  * Utilizes one apical view\n\n  * Assumes circular shape of the disks\n\n### 3.2.4 Length-Area Method\n\n  * Assumes a bullet shaped LV\n\n  * The long axis of the LV is defined as the longest dimension extending from the apex to the center of the mitral annulus in 4C view.\n\n  * The mid-LV cross-sectional area is measured by planimetry at the level of papillary muscles in the parasternal short axis view.\n\n  * Volume ?= ?5 ?\u00d7 ?area ?\u00d7 ?length\/6 (Table 3.2)\n\nTable 3.2\n\nPros and cons of the three methods of evaluation of the LV volumes | Biplane method of disks | Uniplane method of disks | Area-length method\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nAdvantages | \u2022?Recommended whenever possible | \u2022?Require optimal endocardial definition in only one apical view | \u2022?Can be used in the absence of optimal endocardial definition\n\n\u2022?Most accurate in ventricles with RWMA\n\nDisadvantages | \u2022?Require optimal endocardial definition in two orthogonal apical views | \u2022?Assume a regular shape of the LV | \u2022?Assume a regular bullet shape of the LV\n\n|\n\n\u2022?Cannot be used in the presence of RWMA | \u2022?Cannot be used in the presence of RWMA\n\n### 3.2.5 3D Volumetric methods: Real-time 3D echocardiography\n\n  * Semiautomatic border detection of endocardial border (Fig 3.3)\n\n  * Unlike 2D techniques, does not rely on geometric assumptions\n\n  * Immune from plane-positioning errors (eliminates foreshortening)\n\n  * Excellent agreement with cardiac MRI \u2013derived volumes\n\n  * Lower interobserver and intraobserver variability compared to 2D echo techniques\n\n  * Limited by image quality and irregular cardiac rhythms\n\n  * Single beat 3D- volumetric assessment has recently become commercially available\n\n## 3.3 Calculation of LV Mass\n\n### 3.3.1 Methods\n\n  * Linear measurements\n\n  * Volumetric measurements\n\n### 3.3.2 Linear Method\n\n  * LV mass ?= ?0.8 ?\u00d7 ?{1.04 [(LVIDd ?+ ?PTW ?+ ?SWT)3 ?? ?(LVIDd)3]} ?+ ?0.6 g\n\n### 3.3.3 Volumetric Method\n\n  * LV mass ?= ?LV myocardial volume ?\u00d7 ?cardiac tissue density.\n\n  * LV mass ?= ?(epicardial LV volume ?? ?endocardial LV volume) ?\u00d7 ?1.05.\n\n  * Epicardial and endocardial volumes can be measured using the length-area method or the biplane method of disks.\n\n## 3.4 Technical Points\n\n  * Linear method assumes a regular shape of the LV and should not be used in case of geometrical distortions.\n\n  * In the presence of RWMA, biplane method should be used.\n\n## 3.5 Relative Wall Thickness (RWT)\n\n  * RWT ?= ?2 ?\u00d7 ?PWT\/LVIDd\n\n  * Used to differentiate concentric (?0.42) and eccentric (?0.42) remodeling of the LV. See Fig. 3.4 and Tables 3.4. 3.4Pathologic vs. Physiologic (athlete's heart) LVH\n\nTable 3.3\n\nCharacteristics of LVH in athlete's heart vs. pathological left ventricular hypertrophy | Athlete's heart | Pathological hypertrophy\n\n---|---|---\n\nSymmetry | Symmetrical | Symmetrical or asymmetrical\n\nWall thickness | Rarely ?> ?17 mm | Frequently >17 mm\n\nSystolic function | Normal | Normal or abnormal\n\nLV volume | Increased | Increased, decreased or normal\n\nDiastolic function | Normal with E' ?> ?7 cm\/s | Abnormal with E' ?< ?7 cm\/s\n\nStrain | Homogenous and normal | Abnormal and can be paradoxical\n\nE'= medial mitral annular tissue Doppler velocity\n\nTable 3.4\n\nThe reference values and classification of abnormal values of LV dimensions, wall thickness and volumes in men and women based on the guidelines of the American society of echocardiography | Women | Men\n\n---|---|---\n\nNormal | Mildly abnormal | Moderately abnormal | Severely abnormal | Normal | Mildly abnormal | Moderately abnormal | Severely abnormal\n\nDimensions\n\nLVIDd, cm | 3.9\u20135.3 | 5.4\u20135.7 | 5.8\u20136.1 | >6.1 | 4.2\u20135.9 | 6.0\u20136.3 | 6.4\u20136.8 | >6.8\n\nLVIDd\/BSA, cm\/m2 | 2.4\u20133.2 | 3.3\u20133.4 | 3.5\u20133.7 | >3.7 | 2.2\u20133.1 | 3.2\u20133.4 | 3.5\u20133.6 | >3.6\n\nPWT, cm | 0.6\u20130.9 | 1.0\u20131.2 | 1.3\u20131.5 | >1.5 | 0.6\u20131.0 | 1.1\u20131.3 | 1.4\u20131.6 | >1.6\n\nSWT, cm | 0.6\u20130.9 | 1.0\u20131.2 | 1.3\u20131.5 | >1.5 | 0.6\u20131.0 | 1.1\u20131.3 | 1.4\u20131.6 | >1.6\n\nLV volume\n\nDiastolic, mL | 56\u2013104 | 1.5\u2013117 | 118\u2013130 | >130 | 67\u2013155 | 156\u2013178 | 179\u2013201 | >201\n\nDiastolic\/BSA, mL\/m2 | 35\u201375 | 76\u201386 | 87\u201396 | >96 | 35\u201375 | 76\u201386 | 87\u201396 | >96\n\nSystolic, mL | 19\u201349 | 50\u201359 | 60\u201369 | >69 | 22\u201358 | 59\u201370 | 71\u201382 | >82\n\nSystolic\/BSA, mL\/m2 | 12\u201330 | 31\u201336 | 37\u201342 | >42 | 12\u201330 | 31\u201336 | 37\u201342 | >42\n\nLV mass\n\nLinear, g | 67\u2013162 | 163\u2013186 | 187\u2013210 | >210 | 88\u2013224 | 225\u2013258 | 259\u2013292 | >292\n\nLinear\/BSA, g\/m2 | 43\u201395 | 96\u2013108 | 109\u2013121 | >121 | 49\u2013115 | 116\u2013131 | 132\u2013148 | >149\n\nVolumetric, g | 66\u2013150 | 151\u2013171 | 172\u2013182 | >182 | 96\u2013200 | 201\u2013227 | 228\u2013254 | >255\n\nVolumetric\/BSA, g\/m2 | 44\u201388 | 89\u2013100 | 101\u2013112 | >112 | 50\u2013102 | 103\u2013116 | 117\u2013130 | >130\n\nRWT | 0.22\u20130.42 | 0.43\u20130.47 | 0.48\u20130.52 | >0.52 | 0.24\u20130.42 | 0.43\u20130.46 | 0.47\u20130.51 | >0.51\n\nBSA body surface area, LV left ventricle, LVIDd left ventricular inner dimension in diastole, PWT posterior wall thickness, RTW relative wall thickness, SWT septal wall thickness\n\nAdapted from [1]\n\nRecommended Reading\n\nLang RM et al. Recommendations for chamber quantification: a report from the American Society of Echocardiography's Guidelines and Standards Committee and the Chamber Quantification Writing Group, developed in conjunction with the European Association of Echocardiography, a branch of the European Society of Cardiology J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2005;18(12):1440-1463.PubMedCrossRef\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_4\n\n# 4. Quantification of Left Ventricular Systolic Function\n\nYasuhiko Takemoto1  and Minoru Yoshiyama\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Internal Medicine and Cardiology, Osaka City University School of Medicine, Osaka, Japan\n\nYasuhiko Takemoto\n\nEmail: yatakemoto@med.osaka-cu.ac.jp\n\n## 4.1 Introduction\n\nThe assessment of left ventricular (LV) systolic function is an essential part of all echocardiographic examinations and provides crucial and indispensable information for diagnosis, treatment, and prognosis of almost all cardiac conditions.\n\n## 4.2 Global LV Systolic Function\n\nThe most commonly used expression of global LV systolic function is LV ejection fraction (LVEF). LVEF is preferably calculated from two-dimensional (2D) volume measurements using the following formula:\n\nThe biplane Simpson method is most commonly used for measuring 2D LV volumes (LVEDV, LVESV) and LVEF.\n\n## 4.3 Limitations of the Biplane Simpson Method\n\nMyocardial dropout, especially at the apex, is a potential problem. The transducer must be at the true apex and the ultrasonic beam must be through the center of the LV.\n\n## 4.4 Regional LV Systolic Function\n\nRegional LV systolic function is assessed by dividing the LV into segments using a 16-segment model recommended by the American Society of Echocardiography.\n\nA numeric scoring system is adopted based on the contractility of the individual segments.\n\n16-segment model\n\nScoring system\n\n1?\n\nNormal\n\n2?\n\nHypokinesis\n\n3?\n\nAkinesis\n\n4?\n\nDyskinesis\n\n5?\n\nAneurysmal\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_5\n\n# 5. Noninvasive Hemodynamic Assessment\n\nJacob Abraham1  and Kimberly Chadwell\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Medicine, Johns Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nJacob Abraham\n\nEmail: ja@jhmi.edu\n\nHemodynamic assessment is one of the oldest applications of echocardiography (echo). With the increasing prevalence of patients with heart failure, the need to accurately measure hemodynamics is growing. Although cardiac catheterization remains the gold standard, it is invasive and expensive. With standard two-dimensional imaging and Doppler techniques, qualitative and quantitative estimation of cardiac output, ventricular filling pressures, and vascular resistances is possible. Because echo measurements correlate strongly with invasively measured values, echo can be a surrogate for catheterization in a variety of settings. This chapter will review the methods for determining some of the most commonly employed hemodynamic parameters (Fig. 5.1).\n\nFig. 5.1\n\n(a) Calculation of stroke volume (SV) involves careful measurement of the LVOT diameter in systole at the level of the aortic annulus from the parasternal long axis view. An inner-edge to inner-edge method should be employed. The aortic annulus is the most accurate location for stroke volume measurements. (b) Pulse wave Doppler interrogation of LVOT or ascending aorta from the apical five chamber view. The sample volume is placed at the same location as where the diameter was measured. (c) Measurement of the LVOT velocity time integral.![\n$$ {SV }={ }{\\\\mathrm{*}}^{*}\\\\pi *{\\({D\\)}}^{{2}}{}^{*}\\({LVOTVTI\\)}. $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_5_Fig1_HTML.gif)Cardiac output equals SV multiplied by heart rate\n\n## 5.1 Cardiac Output (Figs. 5.2\u20135.8)\n\n  * Caveats\n\n  * If using PW Doppler, measure aortic diameter at aortic annulus. If using CW Doppler, measure diameter at sinotubular junction.\n\n  * Aortic valve disease, including bicuspid valve or aortic stenosis\/sclerosis, will render the measurement inaccurate.\n\n  * Velocity and diameter measurements should be made at the same site and under the same heart rate and loading conditions.\n\n  * Best beam alignment is critical to avoid underestimation of stroke volume.\n\nFig. 5.2\n\nThe pulmonary vascular resistance (PVR) is related to the peak velocity of tricuspid regurgitation (V TR) and right ventricular time\u2013velocity integral (RVOT TVI) through the following equation:![\n$$ {PVR}=\\({{V}}_{{TR}}\/{RVOT VTI}\\\\times 10\\)+\\\\mathrm{0.16.} $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_5_Fig3_HTML.gif)(a) Measurement of VTR. To avoid underestimation of PVR, tricuspid regurgitation jet should be interrogated from multiple views to obtain the peak velocity. (b) The basal short axis is the best view for determining the RVOT TVI using pulse Doppler. (c) RVOT TVI measurement. Note that RVOT TVI is expressed in units of centimeters, rather than meters. In this example, VTR ?= ?4.2 m\/s and RVOT TVI ?= ?2.47 cm. Therefore, PVR ?= ?(4.2\/2.47 ?\u00d7 ?10) ?+ ?0.16, or 17.2 Woods Units\n\nFig. 5.3\n\nCalculation of the ratio of pulmonary to system blood flow (Qp\/Qs) uses the preceding principles to measure stroke volumes for both right and left ventricles. Although stroke volume calculations can be made at any level, it is generally preferable to use the pulmonic valve and the aortic valve for stroke volume measurement. (a) Measurement of LVOT diameter from parasternal long-axis view. (b) Pulse Doppler of the LVOT from an apical four chamber view. (c) Measurement of RVOT diameter from basal short axis view. (d) Pulse Doppler of the RVOT. In this example,![\n$$ \\\\begin{array}{c}{LVOT D}={2}.{26 cm}\\\\\\\\ {Qs}={1}\/{{4}}^{*}{\\(}^{\\\\pi }{{\\(2}}^{.}{}^{*}{\\(2}.{84}\\)={11}.{{38 cm}}^{{3}}\\\\\\\\ {RVOT D} ={2}.{96 cm}\\\\\\\\ {Qp}={ 1}\/{{4}}^{*}{\\(}^{\\\\pi }{{\\(2}}^{.}{}^{*}{\\(2}.{47}\\)={16}.{{98 cm}}^{{3}}\\\\\\\\ {Qp}\/{Qs}={16}.{98}\/{11}.{38} \\\\\\\\ ={1}.{5}.\\\\end{array} $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_5_Fig5_HTML.gif)\n\nFig. 5.4\n\nThe mitral regurgitation velocity (VMR) reflects the pressure gradient between the LA and LV in systole. In the absence of outflow obstruction, the systolic blood pressure (SBP) equals the left ventricular systolic pressure. Application of the Bernoulli equation allows calculation of the left atrial systolic pressure from the mitral regurgitation velocity (VMR). In this patient with severe left ventricular dysfunction, severe MR, and SBP 95:![\n$$ \\\\begin{array}{c}{LA systolic pressure }={ SBP}-{4}{\\(}^{{{V}}_{{MR}}}{}^{ } \\\\\\\\ ={ 95}-{4 \\(4}{\\)}^{{2}} \\\\\\\\ ={ 31 mmHg}.\\\\end{array} $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_5_Fig7_HTML.gif)\n\nFig. 5.5\n\nPulse Doppler of aortic valve in patient with severe aortic regurgitation (AR). The jet velocity at end-diastole (VAR ) is 2.97 m\/s. From the Bernoulli equation,![\n$$ {Aortic diastolic pressure}{LV diastolic pressure}=4{\\({{V}}_{{AR}}\\)}^{2} $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_5_Fig9_HTML.gif) Therefore, ![\n$$ {LVEDP}={Aortic diastolic pressure}4{\\({{V}}_{{AR}}\\)}^{2} $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_5_Fig10_HTML.gif)Diastolic pressure can be used as an estimate of aortic diastolic pressure. In this patient with blood pressure of 110\/65, the estimated LVEDP is![\n$$ \\\\begin{array}{c}{LVEDP }={ 65}-{4\\(2}.{97}{\\)}^{{2} } \\\\\\\\ ={ 3}0{ mmHg}.\\\\end{array} $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_5_Fig11_HTML.gif)\n\nFig. 5.6\n\ndP\/dt is estimated from the time interval (dt) required for the mitral regurgitation jet \u00advelocity to increase from 1 to 3 m\/s. The LV pressure rise is derived from the Bernoulli equation (4v12 \u2013 4v22) and assumes that left atrial pressure does not change significantly during systole. The latter assumption makes this equation invalid in the setting of acute mitral regurgitation. In this patient with systolic dysfunction,![\n$$ \\\\begin{array}{l}{dt}={ }0.0{4 s}\\\\\\\\ {dP}\/{dt}={ }\\({{4}}^{*}{{3}}^{{2}}-{{ 4}}^{*}{{1}}^{{2}}\\)\\({mmHg}\\)\/{dt}\\(s\\) \\\\\\\\ ={ 32}\/0.0{4} \\\\\\\\ {} ={ 8}00{ mmHg}\/{s} \\\\\\\\ {Normal dP}\/{dt} > { 1,000 mmHg}\/{s}. \\\\end{array} $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_5_Fig13_HTML.gif)\n\nFig. 5.7\n\n(a) M-mode cursor is placed through the mitral valve leaflets in the parasternal long-axis view. (b) Anterior mitral leaflet motion entails early diastolic motion (E) and late diastolic motion (A). In this patient with systolic dysfunction, a third movement, the B hump (B), is seen, indicating elevated LVEDP. The sign has low sensitivity but high specificity for LVEDP ?> ?20 mmHg\n\nFig. 5.8\n\nDemonstration of normal and abnormal relaxation patterns based on mitral inflow velocity and tissue Doppler imaging of the septal mitral annulus (E?). Mitral inflow velocity obtained by placing sample volume at mitral valve leaflet tips. (Left) Normal E\/A ratio and normal E? velocity in a normal subject. Note that E\/E? in patients with normal EF the correlation with wedge pressure is weaker due to the lower correlation of E to filling pressures. (Middle) Reduced E? and indeterminate E\/E? in patient with reduced ejection fraction. (Right) Markedly elevated E and reduced E? in patient with non-systolic heart failure.\n\n  * E\/E? caveats\n\n  * E\/E? 8\u201315 indeterminate for prediction of PCWP\n\n  * Does not predict PCWP if normal relaxation\n\n  * Not reliable in setting of severe mitral regurgitation\n\n  * Falsely low in setting of constrictive pericarditis (annulus paradoxus) (Table 5.1)\n\nTable 5.1\n\nQuantitative hemodynamic measurements\n\nHemodynamic parameter | Echocardiographic correlate | Comment\n\n---|---|---\n\nRight atrial pressure (RAP) | IVC diameter and respirophasic variation | Not valid in positive pressure ventilation except to exclude high RAP\n\nPulmonary artery systolic pressure | 4(VTR)2 ?+ ?RAP\n\n|\n\nPulmonary capillary wedge pressure (PCWP) | E\/E? | E\/E? ?> ?12 predicts PCWP ?> ?15 mmHg in patients with reduced EF\n\nLeft ventricular end-diastolic pressure (LVEDP) | Aortic diastolic pressure \u2013 4(VAR)2\n\n|\n\nLeft atrial pressure (LAP) | SBP \u2013 4(VMR)2 | Exclude patients with acute MR, prosthetic MV, and LVOT obstruction or peripheral arterial disease of the arm\n\nCardiac output (Q) | HR ?\u00d7 ?VTI ?\u00d7 ?Area | Accurate measure of LVOT diameter is critical\n\ndP\/dt | 32\/?t | ?t measured from continuous wave Doppler of MR jet\n\nPulmonary vascular resistance (PVR) | 10 ?\u00d7 ?(VTR\/RVOT VTI) ?+ ?0.16\n\n|\n\n## 5.2 Summary\n\nRecommended Reading\n\nAbbas AE, Fortuin FD, Schiller NB, Appleton CP, Moreno CA, Lester SJ. A simple method for noninvasive estimation of pulmonary vascular resistance. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2003;41(6):1021-1027.PubMedCrossRef02973-X)\n\nAbraham J, Abraham TP. The role of echocardiography in hemodynamic assessment in heart failure. Heart Fail Clin. 2009;5(2):191-208.PubMedCrossRef\n\nLewis JF, Kuo LC, Nelson JG, Limacher MC, Quinones MA. Pulsed Doppler echocardiographic determination of stroke volume and cardiac output: clinical validation of two new methods using the apical window. Circulation. 1984;70:425-431.PubMedCrossRef\n\nNagueh SF, Middleton KJ, Kopelen HA, Zoghbi WA, Quinones MA. Doppler tissue imaging: a noninvasive technique for evaluation of left ventricular relaxation and estimation of filling pressures. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1997;30:1527-1533.PubMedCrossRef00344-6)\n\nXie GY, Berk MR, Smith MD, Gurley JC, DeMaria A. Prognostic value of Doppler transmitral flow patterns in patients with congestive heart failure. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1994;24:132-139.PubMedCrossRef90553-3)\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_6\n\n# 6. Echocardiographic Assessment of Diastolic Dysfunction (DD) and Heart Failure with Normal EF (HFnlEF)\n\nAnil Mathew and Luis Afonso1\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Detroit Medical Centre, Wayne State University, Detroit, MI, USA\n\nLuis Afonso\n\nEmail: lafonso@med.wayne.edu\n\n## 6.1 Physiology\n\nA.\n\nAbout half of patients with new diagnoses of heart failure have normal or near normal global ejection fractions (EF). These patients are diagnosed with diastolic heart failure or heart failure with preserved\/normal EF(HFnlEF).\n\nB.\n\nElevated filling pressures are the main physiologic consequence of diastolic dysfunction.\n\nC.\n\nDiastolic function is modulated by myocardial relaxation and myocardial tone but is mainly determined by myocardial stiffness (filling and passive properties of the LV wall).\n\nD.\n\nMyocardial relaxation is determined by:\n\na.\n\nLoad \u2013 increased afterload, late systolic load and\/or elevated preload ?? ?delays myocardial relaxation ?? ?elevated filling pressures\n\nb.\n\nMyocardial inactivation \u2013 in cardiac myocyte, cross bridge detachment caused by calcium exit from cell\n\nc.\n\nNonuniformity (of relaxation in cardiac muscle)\n\nE.\n\nMyocardial stiffness is determined by\n\na.\n\nIntrinsic factors (ex: titin within myocardial cell fibrosis in interstitial, matrix)\n\nb.\n\nExtrinsic factors (ex: pericardial constraint and ventricular interaction)\n\nF.\n\nFour phases of diastole (Fig. 6.1)\n\n  * First Phase \u2013 Isovolumetric Relaxation (IR)\n\nRapid decline in LV pressure due to LV relaxation\n\n  * Second Phase \u2013 Rapid Filling\n\na.\n\nFirst pressure crossover \u2013 end of isovolumic relaxation and mitral valve opening\n\nb.\n\nLA\u2013LV pressure gradient \u2013 acceleration of mitral flow\n\nc.\n\nSecond pressure crossover \u2013 Peak mitral E\n\n(Thereafter, left ventricular pressure exceeds left atrial pressure, decelerating mitral flow)\n\nFig. 6.1\n\nThe Four phases of diastole\n\n  * Third Phase \u2013 Slow Filling\n\nNo pressure differences between LA and LV\n\n  * Fourth Phase \u2013 Atrial Contraction\n\nLA\u2013LV pressure gradient from atrial contraction, resulting in another acceleration of mitral flow\n\n## 6.2 Echocardiographic Parameters of Diastolic Dysfunction\n\n### 6.2.1 Morphologic and Functional Correlates of Diastolic Dysfunction\n\n1.\n\nLeft ventricular hypertrophy\n\n  * Concentric vs. eccentric hypertrophy: Concentric hypertrophy is generally associated with preserved EF and DD. Eccentric hypertrophy is generally associated with reduced EF and DD.\n\n  * LV thickness: measure this to determine if (concentric) LV hypertrophy is present.\n\n2.\n\nLA volume\/area\n\n  * LA volume\/area: reflects the cumulative effects of filling pressure over time and therefore a potential indicator for the presence of diastolic dysfunction.\n\n3.\n\nPulmonary artery pressures\n\n  * Patients with diastolic dysfunction who are symptomatic usually have increased pulmonary artery pressures.\n\n  * In the absence of pulmonary or valvular disease, increased PA pressures indicates the presence of elevated LV filling.\n\n  * Tricuspid regurgitation jets and pulmonic regurgitation jets can be used to estimate PA systolic and diastolic pressures, respectively:\n\n![\n$$\\\\begin{array}{c}PASP=4{\\(}^{T}+RApressure\\\\\\\\ PADP=4{\\(}^{P}+RAPressure\\\\\\\\ \\(RApressureestimatedfromIVC\\)\\\\end{array}$$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_6_Fig2_HTML.gif)\n\nPA diastolic pressure usually correlates well with invasively measured PCWP (LVEDP) and may be used as its surrogate but this estimation is dependent on quality of PR signal and accuracy of RA pressure estimate.\n\n4.\n\nMitral annular motion\n\n  * Reduced apical motion of the mitral valve during diastole may be a visual clue to reduced e' velocity as seen on tissue Doppler (discussed later).\n\n### 6.2.2 Mitral Inflow Velocities\n\nTechnical tips \u2013 PW Doppler\n\nIn the apical four chamber view, using a 1\u20133 mm sample volume, PW Doppler cursor is placed between the mitral leaflet tips during diastole.\n\nMeasurements: Peak E velocities, Peak A velocities, E\/A ratio\n\nDeceleration time (DT) \u2013 time from peak velocity of E wave to termination of E wave\n\n1.\n\nMitral hemodynamics\n\n  * Mitral E velocity reflects the LA\u2013LV pressure gradient during early diastole and is affected by preload and alterations in LV relaxation.\n\n  * Mitral A velocity reflects the LA\u2013LV pressure gradient during late diastole and is affected by LV compliance and LA contractile function.\n\n  * DT (of E wave) reflects the rate of decline in the early LA\u2013LV pressure gradient and is affected by LV relaxation, LV diastolic pressures post-MV opening and LV compliance.\n\n2.\n\nMitral inflow patterns\n\nFour Mitral Filling Patterns based on E:A ratio and DT (Fig. 6.2):\n\nFig. 6.2\n\nMitral inflow profiles across spectrum of diastolic dysfunction\n\nNormal | E\/A: 1\u20132 | DT: 160\u2013200 ms\n\n---|---|---\n\nImpaired Relaxation | E\/A ?< ?0.8 | DT ?> ?200 ms\n\nPseudonormal | E\/A: 0.8\u20131.5 | DT: 160\u2013200 ms\n\nRestrictive | E\/A ?? ?2 | DT ?< ?160 ms\n\n3.\n\nNormal values (see Table 6.1)\n\n  * Definition of normal depends on age of patient: increasing age ?? ?decrease in mitral E velocity, E\/A ratio, increase in DT and A velocity\n\n  * Variables which affect mitral inflow (other than diastolic function and filling): HR and rhythm, PR interval, cardiac output, mitral annular size, LA function\n\nTable 6.1\n\nNormal values for Doppler-derived diastolic parameters partitioned according to age | Age group (y)\n\n|   \n---|---|---\n\nMeasurement | 16-20 | 21-40 | 41-60 | >60\n\nIVRT (ms) | 50 \u00b1 9 (32-68) | 67 \u00b1 8 (51-83) | 74 \u00b1 7 (60-88) | 67 \u00b1 7 (73-101)\n\nE\/A ratio | 1.88 \u00b1 0.45(0.98-2.78) | 1.53 \u00b1 0.40 (0.73-2.33) | 1.28 \u00b1 0.25 (0.78-1.78) | 0.96 \u00b1 0.18 (0.6-1.32)\n\nDT (ms) | 142 \u00b1 19 (104-180) | 166 \u00b1 14(138-194) | 181 \u00b1 19(143-219) | 200 \u00b1 29 (142-258)\n\nA duration (ms) | 113 \u00b1 17 (79-147) | 127 \u00b1 13 (101-153) | 133 \u00b1 13 (107-159) | 138 \u00b1 19 (100-176]\n\nPV S\/D ratio | 0.82 \u00b1 0.18 (0.46-1.18) | 0.98 \u00b1 0.32 (0.34-1.62) | 1.21 \u00b1 0.2 (0.81-1.61) | 1.39 \u00b1 0.47 (0.45-2.33)\n\nPV Ar (cm\/s) | 16 \u00b1 10 (1-36) | 21 \u00b1 8 (5-37) | 23 \u00b1 3 (17-29) | 25 \u00b1 9 (11-39)\n\nPV Ar duration (ms) | 66 \u00b1 39 (1-144) | 96 \u00b1 33 (30-162) | 112 \u00b1 15 (82-142) | 113 \u00b1 30 (53-173)\n\nSeptal e' (cro\/s) | 14.9 \u00b1 2.4 (10.1-19.7) | 15.5 \u00b1 2.7 (10.1-20.9) | 12.2 \u00b1 2.3 (7.6-16.8) | 10.4 \u00b1 2.1 (6.2-14.6)\n\nSeptal e'\/a' ratio | 2.4' | 1.6 \u00b1 0.5 (0.6-2.6) | 1.1 \u00b1 0.3 (0.5-1.7) | 0.85 \u00b1 0.2 (0.45-1.25)\n\nLateral e' (cm\/s) | 20.6 \u00b1 3.8 (13-28.2) | 19.8 \u00b1 2.9 (14-25.6) | 16.1\u00b1 2.3 (11.5-20.7) | 12.9 \u00b1 3.5 (5.9-19.9)\n\nLateral e'\/a' ratio | 3.1' | 1.9 \u00b1 0.6 (0.7-3.1) | 1.5 = 0.5 (0.5-2.5) | 0.9 \u00b1 0.4 (0.1-1.7)\n\nFrom Nagueh et al Journal of the American Society of Echocardiography Feb 2009\n\n4.\n\nClinical application to patients with depressed and normal EFs\n\n  * Dilated cardiomyopathies \u2013 filling patterns correlate well with filling pressures functional class and prognosis \u2013 better than LV EF\n\n  * Coronary artery disease and hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (EF ?? ?50%) \u2013 filling patterns correlate poorly with hemodynamics\n\n5.\n\nValsalva maneuver and mitral inflow: distinguishing normal from PNF (Fig. 6.3)\n\nFig. 6.3\n\nDiscriminatory utility of the Valsalva maneuver\n\n  * LV preload is reduced during the strain phase (phase II) and changes in mitral inflow can be used to distinguish normal from PNF\n\n  * Valsalva maneuver results in decreased preload during the strain phase. Mitral filling pattern changes to impaired relaxation in patients with PNF post-Valsalva\n\n6.\n\nCaveats\n\n  * LV filling patterns have a \"U-shaped\" relation with LV diastolic function with similar patterns in healthy subjects and patients with Grade II (Pseudonormal) dysfunction.\n\n  * Arrhythmias make filling patterns difficult to interpret sinus tachycardia, first degree AV block: partial or complete fusion of E and A waves, atrial flutter: LV filling heavily influenced by atrial contractions.\n\n### 6.2.3 Pulmonary Vein Inflow Velocities\n\nTechnical tips \u2013 PW Doppler\n\n  * Color Doppler is used to localize area of inflow of right upper pulmonary vein (RUPV) in the apical four chamber view.\n\n  * In this view, using a 2\u20133 mm sample volume, PW Doppler cursor is placed at (RUPV) >0.5 cm into RUPV.\n\n  * Measurements: systolic (S) velocity and components (S1, S2), peak anterograde diastolic (D) velocity, S\/D ratio, atrial reversal (Ar) wave (Ar wave duration, peak Ar velocity in late diastole)\n\n1.\n\nPulmonary vein inflow waveforms\n\nReflect phases of LA function during cardiac cycle(see Fig. 6.4)\n\nReduction in LA compliance and increase in LA filling pressure result in:\n\n    * Decrease in S velocity, increase in D velocity ?? ?decrease in S\/D velocity ratio\n\n    * Increase in Ar velocity, duration and increase in Ar amplitude and duration\n\n2.\n\nNormal values\n\n    * Definition of normal depends on age of patient: Increasing age ?? ?S\/D ratio increases, Ar velocity increases (not greater than 35 cm\/s)\n\n3.\n\nClinical application to patients with depressed and normal EFs\n\nIn patients with depressed EFs, reduced systolic filling fractions (<40%) are related to decreased LA compliance and increased mean LA pressure.\n\n    * Ar duration \u2013 Mitral A duration difference >30 ms indicates elevated LVEDP and can reliably distinguish those with high LVEDP but normal filling pressures in both normal and reduced EFs.\n\n4.\n\nLimitations\n\nDifficulty in obtaining high quality recordings suitable for measurements\n\n    * Tachycardia and arrhythmias make filling patterns difficult to interpret\n\n    * Atrial fibrillation \u2013 loss of atrial contraction and relaxation reduces pulmonary systolic venous flow velocities regardless of filling pressures\n\nFig. 6.4\n\nSchematic illustrating various components of pulmonary venous flow\n\n### 6.2.4 Tissue Doppler Annular Early and Late Diastolic Velocities\n\nTechnical tips\n\nTissue Doppler velocities are a measure of the speed of movement of myocardial tissue in comparison to the inflow velocities, which measure the speed of movement of blood cells. In the apical four chamber view, using a 5\u201310 mm sample volume, tissue Doppler cursor is placed at or 1 cm within septal and\/or lateral insertion sites of mitral valve leaflets (Figs. 6.5 and 6.6)\n\nFig. 6.5\n\nMitral annular tissue Doppler velocity acquisition and waveforms\n\nFig. 6.6\n\nSpectrum of pulmonary flow and mitral annular tissue Doppler velocities in diastolic dysfunction\n\nMeasurements: Early diastolic (e?) and late diastolic (a?) velocities\n\nAdditional value computed from velocities \u2013 E (mitral inflow)\/e? (see below)\n\n1.\n\nHemodynamic determinants\n\n  * e? is determined by LV relaxation, preload (minimally), systolic function and LV minimal pressure\n\n  * a? is determined by LA systolic function and LVEDP\n\n2.\n\nNormal values\n\n  * Definition of normal depends on age of patient: increasing age ?? ?e? decreases, a? and E\/e? increases\n\n3.\n\nClinical application\n\nE\/e? ratio:\n\n  * As diastolic dysfunction progressively worsens, LV filling pressures increase.\n\n  * As diastolic dysfunction progressively worsens, the LA\u2013LV pressure gradient (E) increases and e? velocity declines.\n\n  * Thus, E\/e? ratio is useful as an estimate of LV filling pressures in patients with LV dysfunction.\n\n    * E\/e? ?< ?8 ?= ?normal filling pressures, E\/e? ?> ?15 ?= ?elevated filling pressures\n\n    * If E\/e? ratio ?= ?8\u201314, other echocardiographic indices should be used to estimate LV filling pressures\n\n4.\n\nCaveats\n\n  * In normal subjects, e? is positively related to preload and therefore E\/e? may not always accurately reflect filling pressures.\n\n  * e? velocity is reduced in patients with mitral annular calcification, surgical rings, mitral stenosis and prosthetic mitral valves.\n\n  * e? velocity is increased in patients with moderate to severe primary MR and normal relaxation due to increased flow across the mitral valve.\n\n  * Constrictive pericarditis.\n\n    * Septal e? velocity is increased with constrictive pericarditis due to preserved LV longitudinal expansion compensating for limited lateral and anteroposterior diastolic excursion.\n\n    * Lateral e? velocity may be less than septal e? in constrictive pericarditis\n\n### 6.2.5 Color M-Mode Flow Propagation Velocity\n\nTechnical tips\n\nIn the apical four chamber view, using color flow imaging with a narrow color sector and gain adjustment to avoid noise, the M-mode scan line is placed through the center of the LV inflow blood column from the mitral valve to the apex.\n\nThe color flow baseline is shifted to lower the Nyquist limit so that the central highest velocity is blue. Flow propagation velocity (Vp) is measured as the slope of the first aliasing velocity during early filling, measured from mitral valve plane to 4 cm distally into the LV cavity (Fig. 6.7).\n\nFig. 6.7\n\nColor M-mode obtained from the Ap-4C view. Velocity of flow propagation (Vp or slope) estimated at 49.8 cm\/s (arrow) in this patient with normal diastolic function\n\n1.\n\nHemodynamic determinants\n\nVp is a measure of the early diastolic filling gradient and is determined by pressure gradient between LV base and apex\n\n  * Normal Values: Vp ?>50 cm\/s is considered normal.\n\n2.\n\nClinical application\n\n  * Slowing of Vp is a semiquantitative marker of LV diastolic dysfunction.\n\n  * E\/Vp may be used to predict LV filling pressures \u2013E\/Vp ?? ?2.5 predicts PCWP >15 mmHg.\n\n3.\n\nCaveats\n\n  * E\/Vp may not be reliable if EF is normal.\n\n## 6.3 Estimation of Left Ventricular Filling Pressures and Diastolic Dysfunction in Special Populations (see Fig 6.8)\n\n1.\n\nAtrial fibrillation\n\n  * Variability in cycle length, absence of organized atrial activity and LA enlargement limits the assessment of LV filling pressures in atrial fibrillation if LV EF is depressed, mitral DT (?150 ms) is reasonably accurate as a predictor of increased filling pressures and adverse clinical outcome\n\nFig. 6.8\n\nDiastolic dysfunction assessment in special populations\n\nOther measurements that may be used include deceleration time (DT) and E\/e? and E\/Vp\n\n  * Given variation in cycle length, three nonconsecutive beats with cycle lengths within 10\u201320% of average heart rate or measurements from one cardiac cycle with an RR interval corresponding to HR of 70\u201380 bpm should be used to obtain measurements of diastolic function.\n\n2.\n\nSinus tachycardia\n\n  * If E and A wave are fused, measure the peak velocity of the fused wave as the E wave velocity, do likewise for the e? velocity. E\/e? correlates well with filling pressure\n\n3.\n\nRestrictive cardiomyopathy\n\n  * In restrictive cardiomyopathy, regardless of whether idiopathic or infiltrative, mitral, pulmonary venous and tissue Doppler variables are all good indicators of elevation in filling pressures.\n\n4.\n\nHypertrophic cardiomyopathy\n\n  * E\/A ratio and DT have weak to no correlations with LV filling pressures.\n\n  * E\/e? ratio correlates fairly well w\/LV pre-A pressure.\n\n  * Ar \u2013 (A duration) ?? ?30 ms may be used in this population as in other populations.\n\n5.\n\nMitral stenosis (MS)\n\n  * Mitral stenosis patients will have elevated left atrial pressures due to valvular restriction of LV inflow. However the LV diastolic pressures will be normal or low (unless there is coexisting myocardial disease).\n\n  * Determining LA pressures is more difficult in MS but the following can be used as semiquantitative measures of mean LA pressures:\n\n    * IVRT interval \u2013 shorter interval ?? ?higher early diastolic LA pressure\n\n6.\n\nMitral regurgitation (MR)\n\nDetermining LA pressures is more difficult in MR but the following can be used as semi quantitative measures of mean LA pressures:\n\n  * IVRT interval \u2013 shorter interval ?? ?higher early diastolic LA pressure\n\n  * E\/e? ratio \u2013 is only useful in patients w\/depressed ejection fractions\n\n## 6.4 Other Causes of Heart Failure Symptoms in Patients with Normal EF\n\n### 6.4.1 Differentiating Constrictive Pericarditis from Restrictive Cardiomyopathy (Diastolic Dysfunction)\n\na.\n\nMitral annular velocities\n\n  * Constrictive Pericarditis\n\n    * Pericardium restricts movement of the lateral annulus ?? ?myocardial relaxation preserved BUT lateral annular vertical excursion impaired ?? ?SEPTAL e? normal or increased (?7 cm\/s), lateral e? reduced\n\nb.\n\nSeptal motion\n\n  * Restrictive cardiomyopathy (diastolic dysfunction) \u2013septal motion is normal\n\n  * Constrictive pericarditis \u2013 septal motion shows respiratory shift \u2013 inspiration ?? ?left, expiration ?? ?right\n\nc.\n\nMitral inflow pattern with respiration\n\n  * Restrictive cardiomyopathy (diastolic dysfunction): no variation in mitral inflow pattern\n\n  * Constrictive pericarditis: ?25% increase in mitral inflow E velocity with expiration\n\nd.\n\nHepatic flow vein pattern\n\n  * Restrictive cardiomyopathy (diastolic dysfunction): Diastolic forward flow reversal is augmented during inspiration\n\nDecrease in intrapleural pressures ?? ?increase in diastolic filling\n\n  * Constrictive Pericarditis: Diastolic forward flow reversal is augmented during expiration\n\nVentricular interdependence ?? ?increase in LV filling results in reduction in RV filling\n\n## 6.5 Left Atrium\n\n  * The size and volume of the left atrium (LA) increase with increasing grades of diastolic dysfunction.\n\n  * Mitral inflow parameters and E\/e? reflect instantaneous filling pressure.\n\n  * LA volume, in comparison reflects chronicity of elevated filling pressure.\n\n  * Normal LA volume rules out clinically significant diastolic dysfunction.\n\n  * Normal-appearing mitral inflow likely reflects PNF if the LA volume is increased.\n\nTechnical tips\n\nLA size is measured in end systole (end of T-wave or the frame prior to mitral valve opening). Recommended methodology is the area\u2013length method, using the apical ?4C and 2C views (Fig. 6.9)\n\nFig. 6.9\n\nEstimation of left atrial volume using the area-length method, from the apical-4C (A1) and apical-2C (A2) views, at end-systole. Left atrial volume (ml) = 8\/3? [(A1)(A2)\/ (L*)], where L*= shortest vertical length between Ap-4C and Ap-2C views, measured from back wall to line across hinge points of mitral valve. LA volume may be indexed to body surface area and expressed as LA volume index (ml\/m2)\n\nFig. 6.10\n\nEstimation of LV filling pressure in patients with normal systolic function\n\nFig. 6.11\n\nEstimation of LV filling pressure in patients with depressed systolic function\n\nFig. 6.12\n\nPractical approach to grading diastolic dysfunction\n\nCaveats\n\n  * LA dilation should be interpreted with caution in high flow states such as anemia, pregnancy.\n\n  * Afib and MR can cause atrial enlargement not related to diastolic dysfunction\n\n  * LA dilation in the setting of mitral stenosis occurs due to inflow obstruction\n\n  * Anteroposterior measurement of LA diameter can be misleading and may underestimate\n\n  * LA size as the LA enlarges asymmetrically in the lateral and infero-superior direction\n\nNormal values: LA volume\/BSA (mL\/m2): Normal reference range: 22 ?\u00b1 ?6 mL\/m2\n\nLA area: normal ?< ?20 cm2; 20\u201330 cm2 (mild dilation); 30\u201340 (moderate); >40 cm2 (severely dilation)\n\n## 6.6 Evaluation of Patient with Diastolic Dysfunction (DD) or Heart Failure with Normal EF (HFnlEF)\n\n### 6.6.1 Evaluation, Differential Diagnosis and Subtypes of the DD\/HFnlEF Patient\n\nThe first step in evaluation of a patient with dyspnea due to diastolic dysfunction is to exclude noncardiogenic causes through history, physical and appropriate medical testing.\n\nThe second step is to evaluate for cardiogenic causes of dyspnea by echocardiography.\n\nEvaluating ejection fraction, looking for structural abnormalities and evaluation for the presence of valvular disease.\n\nOnce these have been excluded, in the third step the presence of signs of diastolic dysfunction must be confirmed which are left atrial enlargement or the presence of diastolic function abnormalities.\n\nThe final step in the evaluation of DD\/HFnlEF is to evaluate wall motion, chamber geometry and pulmonary artery pressures to define the subtype of DD\/HFnlEF that is present.\n\n### 6.6.2 Estimation of Elevated Filling Pressures in Normal EF (Refer to algorithm outlined in Fig. 6.10)\n\nThe E\/e? ratio should be used to determine if filling pressures are elevated.\n\n  * E\/e? ratios ?<8 indicate the presence of normal filling pressures.\n\n  * E\/e? ratios ?> ?12 (if lateral e? is measured), 15 (if septal e? is measured) or 13 (if the average of septal and lateral e? are obtained) indicate the presence of elevated filling pressures.\n\n  * E\/e? ratios between 9 and 14 require the use of additional Doppler parameters.\n\nThe most commonly used parameters are LA volume and pulmonary artery systolic \u00adpressures (PAS) as estimated by peak TR velocities.\n\n### 6.6.3 Estimation of Elevated Filling Pressures in Reduced EF (Refer to algorithm outlined in Fig. 6.11)\n\nThe mitral inflow pattern is very useful in determining left atrial filling pressures in this subset of patients.\n\n  * E\/A ratios of <1 and E velocities ?<50 cm\/s indicate the presence of normal filling pressures.\n\n  * E\/A ratios of ?>2 and DT ?<150 ms indicate the presence of restrictive filling and elevated filling pressures.\n\n  * E\/A ratios between 1 and 2 require the use of additional Doppler parameters.\n\nThe most commonly used are E\/e? or pulmonary artery systolic pressures (PAS) as estimated by peak TR velocities.\n\nPAS may be used only in the absence of pulmonary disease.\n\n  * Other measures also may be used to determine normal or elevated filling pressures.\n\n  * LA volume should NOT be used to estimate LV filling pressures in this population because some LA dilatation may occur even when LV filling pressures are still normal.\n\n### 6.6.4 Grading Diastolic Dysfunction (Refer to Fig 6.12)\n\nThe grading scheme is Grade I (mild), Grade II (moderate), or Grade III (severe).\n\nThis scheme was an important predictor of all cause mortality in a large epidemiology study\n\nAside from the parameters mentioned in the figure, age and heart rate should be taken into account in grading diastolic dysfunction\n\n  * Age \u2013 in elderly individuals without cardiovascular disease, grade I diastolic dysfunction is commonly seen and may be considered normal in this population.\n\n  * Heart rate \u2013 increasing heart rate ?? ?reduction in mitral E, E\/A ratio, and annular e?velocities.\n\n  * Grade I Diastolic Dysfunction\n\n    * These patients have reduced diastolic reserve that can be uncovered with stress testing.\n\n    * Volume depleted subjects may have reduced E\/A ratios but normal tissue Doppler velocities.\n\n    * Therefore E\/A ratio ?<0.8 should not alone determine the presence of diastolic dysfunction.\n\n    * LA pressures in these patients are not elevated (exceptions: hypertension, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy).\n\n    * LA volume may be normal\n\n  * Grade II Diastolic Dysfunction\n\n    * LA pressures in these patients are elevated\n\n    * LA volume is increased\n\n  * Grade III Diastolic Dysfunction\n\n    * LV filling may revert to impair relaxation with successful treatment\n\n    * Response to treatment indicates a subtype of grade III with the more favorable prognosis (Grade IIIa) compared with those who do not respond, indicating the subtype of grade III with a high risk of cardiac morbidity and mortality (Grade IIIb\/restrictive filling).\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_7\n\n# 7. Tissue Doppler Imaging and Strain Echocardiography\n\nVeronica Lea J. Dimaano1\n\n(1)\n\nDivison of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nVeronica Lea J. Dimaano\n\nEmail: vdimaan1@jhmi.edu\n\nDoppler principle has been routinely used in echocardiography to provide hemodynamic data to the anatomical information offered by two-dimensional (2D) examination. It measures high-frequency, low-amplitude signals from rapidly moving red blood cells enabling quantification of blood flow velocities. Recently, modifications have been applied to the filter settings on pulsed Doppler to allow imaging low-velocity, high-intensity myocardial signal, thereby selectively calculating and displaying on-line myocardial velocity information derived from Doppler shifts created by cardiac motion. This technique referred to as tissue Doppler imaging (TDI) or Doppler myocardial imaging (DMI) provides segmental velocity information utilizing three principal approaches: spectral pulsed-Doppler (PW), color-coded M-mode Doppler display, and 2D color-coded Doppler approach. PW and 2D color-coded TDI are more commonly used in clinical settings. While both techniques provide the same mechanical information, data acquired via each method may differ and may not be interchangeable requiring appropriate labeling to avoid confusion (Figs. 7.1 and 7.2). Pulsed Doppler technique yields peak tissue velocity that is 20\u201330% higher than the mean velocity provided by color-coded Doppler approach; a difference that should be considered when estimating left ventricular filling pressures using the E\/E? ratio.\n\nFig. 7.1\n\nTissue Doppler imaging (TDI) provides segmental velocity information, which can be displayed by (a) pulsed wave or (b) color Doppler technique. While both methods yield the same mechanical information, differences inherent to each technique exist. Velocities obtained via pulsed-wave TDI are higher than that obtained using the color-coded TDI. This difference is of prime importance when estimating left ventricular filling pressures using the E\/E? ratio\n\nFig. 7.2\n\nTissue velocity nomenclature. Relative to an external transducer, a triphasic wave form characterizes the typical tissue velocity curve. Depending on the location of sample volume (mitral annulus vs. myocardium), each wave form is identified by its timing relative to the phase of the cardiac cycle. Following a positive wave representing ventricular systole, two negatively directed waves corresponding to early and late diastole appear as a mirror image of the early (E) late and (A) left ventricular filling velocities. Mitral annular velocity has been frequently interrogated using pulsed wave TDI. Its combination with mitral inflow velocity (E\/E? or E\/Ea) can predict LV filling pressure\n\nTissue velocity depicts myocardial motion at specific locations in the heart and indicates the rate at which a particular point in the myocardium is displaced relative to an external transducer. Integration of velocity over time yields displacement or the absolute distance traversed by that particular point. Longitudinal cardiac motion is such that the base descends toward the generally immobile apex during systole and moves away from it during diastole. A triphasic tissue velocity display represents the magnitude of myocardial motion as the heart contracts and relaxes during systole and diastole, respectively. Because assessment of tissue velocity has its reference on a point outside the heart (transducer), a velocity gradient exists between a more basal and a more apical segment of interest. (Fig. 7.3). As with the classical Doppler technique, tissue velocity assessment is greatly influenced by the angle of insonation and the translational motion of the heart. It is limited by its inability to differentiate passive from active myocardial motion consequent to the \"tethering effect\" wherein a normal more apical segment of the myocardium drags an abnormal basal segment toward the apex.\n\nFig. 7.3\n\nTissue velocity interrogation has been almost exclusively performed in the longitudinal direction in which the base descends toward the generally immobile apex during systole and moves away from it during diastole. Because assessment of tissue velocity has its reference on a point outside the heart (transducer) a velocity gradient (white arrows) exists between a more basal and a more apical segment of the myocardium. Thus, tissue velocity is maximum at the base (V 1), lower in the mid (V 2), and least at the apex (V 3)\n\nDoppler-derived strain rate (SR) and strain measure the speed of myocardial deformation derived from velocity gradient and is expressed in s?1 (Fig. 7.4). SR profile is a triphasic display of the magnitude of myocardial deformation rate as the heart contracts in systole and relaxes in diastole (Fig. 7.5). Integration of SR yields strain. Strain is a measure of myocardial deformation defined as the change in length normalized to the original length and is expressed in percent (Fig. 7.6). Understanding tissue velocity-SR-strain relationship (Fig. 7.7 and 7.8) and the limitations (Fig.7.9-7.12) inherent to the Doppler technique are essential in the analysis and interpretation of these studies.\n\nFig. 7.4\n\nVelocity gradient is used to calculate strain rate. With tissue Doppler, differential velocity of two adjacent segments in myocardium along the ultrasound beam normalized to the distance between these velocities (V 1 and V 2) yields strain rate. Strain rate measures the speed at which myocardial deformation occurs and is expressed as s?1\n\nFig. 7.5\n\nDoppler-derived strain rate is a spatial derivation of the velocity gradient. In contrast to tissue velocity, the points of reference reside within the segment under interrogation. While both entities define the rate at which a particular change occurs (location for tissue velocity and length for strain rate) the triphasic curve depicting the timing of events in one cardiac cycle is displayed on an opposite magnitude. To illustrate, a sample volume is placed at the base of the left ventricular septum using a strain length of 18 mm (distance between points 1 and 2). The speed by which the two reference points (1 and 2) in the myocardium move closer to each other during systole (myocardial contraction) is termed systolic strain rate (SRs). Since the distance between these two reference points becomes progressively shorter, the resulting SRs amplitude is directed negatively. SRs normally peaks at early to mid-systole. The rate by which the reference points in the myocardium move away from each other during relaxation is termed diastolic strain rate. Since the distance between these reference points becomes longer, the resulting early (SRe) and late (SRa) diastolic amplitudes are directed positively\n\nFig. 7.6\n\nStrain denotes myocardial deformation and is defined as the change in length normalized to the initial length. In a one-dimensional object, the only possible deformation of the object is lengthening or shortening. The relative amount of deformation is defined as strain and is expressed in percent. The equation is defined in such a way that lengthening is represented as a positive value for strain while shortening is represented by a negative value (13). Hence, if the initial length is noted to be 5 cm and it shortens to 4 cm, the strain will be ?20%. However, if from 5 cm it lengthens to 6 cm, the strain will be 20%\n\nSpeckle tracking is a relatively angle-independent method of quantifying strain. It enables measurement of myocardial deformation in basically all regions of the myocardium in the longitudinal, radial, and circumferential directions (Fig.7.13-7.15). As it utilizes 2D images, it operates on a lower frame rate and may be inferior to Doppler-derived strain where temporal resolution is concerned. With speckle-tracking, SR is derived from strain, while with Doppler-based technique, it is integrated to yield strain.\n\nMyocardial deformation is the result of the complex interaction of intrinsic contractile force and extrinsic loading conditions applied to a tissue with variable elastic properties. Therefore, changes in preload and afterload, and the changes in myocardial stiffness, are important determinants of the pattern and the magnitude of myocardial deformation. Thus, SR and strain indices are not direct measures of contractility. However, peak systolic strain rate (SRs) was found to correlate best with dP\/dt (an index of contractile function). On the other hand peak systolic strain was found to correlate best with changes in stroke volume and, therefore, was more closely related to changes in global hemodynamics than changes in contractility.\n\nSome of the clinical applications of the TDI and strain imaging include assessment of global and regional left ventricular systolic and diastolic function, differentiating constrictive pericarditis and restrictive cardiomyopathy, ischemia detection and evaluation of viability, early detection of cardiomyopathies, and evaluation of mechanical dyssynchrony (Fig.7.16-7.18). Application of TDI and strain imaging in the evaluation of right ventricular (RV) function is more challenging because of the ventricle's complex shape and its marked load \u00addependence.\n\nFig. 7.7\n\nUsing velocity gradient technique, strain and strain rate are derived from the tissue velocity data. Knowledge of the relationship between these Doppler-derived measures of myocardial function play an important role in the analysis and interpretation of a strain\/strain rate curve\n\nFig. 7.8\n\nTo elucidate on tissue velocity\u2013SR\u2013strain relationship, a narrow sector color Doppler image of interventricular septum using the apical 4-chamber view was acquired from a normal volunteer. Timing of aortic valve opening (AVO) and (AVC) closure (vertical green dashed lines) was measured from the spectral Doppler display of left ventricular outflow tract. Sample volumes were placed at the base and mid-septum. (yellow and green circles, respectively, in the upper left panel of all sets of images). (a) Velocity profile is extracted over one cardiac cycle. Motion during systole, early and late diastole can be identified by the triphasic display. (b) Time-integration of the velocity curve results in the displacement curve. In the longitudinal direction, there is motion toward the transducer during systole and away from the transducer during diastole. The displacement of the more apical segment (green curve) is smaller than that of more basal one (yellow curve). (c) Strain rate curve extracted from the same velocity color-Doppler data in (a). Calculation of the spatial gradient in the myocardial velocities yields an estimate of strain rate. During systole, longitudinal shortening of the ventricle is identified by a negative strain rate value while the two lengthening phases during diastole (passive and active LV filling) are depicted by positive strain rate phases. Presence of multiple peaks may interfere with identification of the true peak diastolic strain rates (yellow curves corresponding to the basal septum tracing). (d) Time integration of strain rate curves yields regional strain curves. It is evident that the wall shortens during systole and lengthens during diastole. In this particular example, the strain curve is characterized by two peaks marked by yellow arrows. Cross-checking with the strain rate curve, a second negatively directed curve appears near the AVC (broken yellow arrow in c). This curve corresponds to the second peak in the strain curve (broken yellow arrow in d) and, therefore, is not the true peak systolic strain\n\nFig. 7.9\n\nLocal coordinates of strain measurement. Using the heart coordinate system (13) myocardial strain can be measured in three directions. The heart shortens and lengthens in the longitudinal direction (a), thickens and thins in radial direction, and shortens and lengthens in circumferential direction (b). (c) When the heart is viewed from the apex, the base (3) and the apex (1) rotate in opposite direction effecting a wringing motion or torsion. (d) During systole (solid yellow arrow), the apex rotates counterclockwise and the base, clockwise (twisting). The heart untwists in diastole (yellow broken arrow)\n\nFig. 7.10\n\n(a) The magnitude of the Doppler-derived strain curve is influenced by the angle of insonation. The line of deformation of a particular myocardial segment should be parallel to the Doppler beam. Thus myocardial wall should be kept parallel to the beam when longitudinal strain is being assessed and perpendicular to it when measuring radial strain. The translational motion of the heart exists in a multi-plane coordinate and myocardial deformation is not unidimensional. In this example of a Doppler-derived strain curve taken from a normal volunteer, sample volumes were placed at the base (yellow circle) and the mid segment (red circle) of the lateral wall in the apical 4-chamber view. The longitudinal strain profile is displayed as two strain curves in opposite magnitudes typical of dyskinesis or dyssynchrony. Lower left panel, inset: A closer look at the position of the strain bars (solid green lines) in relation to the myocardial fiber orientation would reveal that the Doppler beam is approaching a perpendicular relationship to the basal segment and a more parallel relationship to the mid-segment where the respective sample volumes were placed. Hence, during systole, the predominant pattern of myocardial deformation at the base is thickening rather than shortening, resulting in a positively directed strain curve. A schematic diagram is presented in the right panel (b). To address this problem, movement of the sample volume around the basal segment should be performed. During image acquisition, narrow sector images should be taken in addition to proper positioning of the transducer to ensure alignment of wall with the Doppler beam\n\nFig. 7.11\n\nThe amplitude of the Doppler-derived velocity, strain rate, or strain curve is influenced by the insonation angle. When the Doppler beam obliquely impinges on the myocardial wall, the resultant vector (strain) corresponds to a combination of radial, longitudinal, and circumferential strains. When the regions of interest are both parallel to the Doppler beam, as with interventricular septum interrogation, the strain value should normally be approximately the same. It is not uncommon to register a \"numerically\" abnormal value when interrogating left ventricular walls that would normally create an angle with the Doppler beam. In this example from a normal volunteer, sample volumes are placed at the base (yellow) and mid-inferior (aqua) segments in a narrow sector image from apical 2-chamber view. The longitudinal deformation profile displays a peak strain value of 10% (identified by red arrow) in the mid-segment and approximately 16% in the basal segment. Poor alignment of the ultrasound beam (approximated by the direction of the strain length bar in green line) with the inferior wall (longitudinal deformation is marked by white broken arrow) is evident in the images on the left panel with the mid-segment creating a more oblique angle with the ultrasound beam. The low numerical longitudinal strain value in the mid-inferior can be explained by the \"hybrid effect\" of the longitudinal (negative magnitude) and radial (positive magnitude) strain. Thus, care should be taken during acquisition of data sets when interrogating myocardial deformation using this technique. AVO, aortic valve opening; AVC, aortic valve closure\n\nFig. 7.12\n\nTwo-dimensional speckle tracking-derived strain measurement. The interaction of ultrasound with the myocardium produces unique acoustic patterns, or \"speckles.\" These speckles can be tracked overtime and speckle displacement used to calculate tissue velocity and strain. Initial speckle locations (yellow circles) are recorded at end-diastole (left panel) and tracked over time (dotted yellow circles) to their final locations at end-systole (solid yellow circles in the right panel). Integration of displacement yields strain where, in turn, strain rate is derived. This technique is relatively angle-independent because it is not based on the Doppler principle. However, the technique is inferior to Doppler-based imaging in terms of temporal resolution and may not be accurate in timing mechanical events. Speckle-tracking is performed on B-mode images with a much lower frame rate (40\u201390 fps) compared to the Doppler-derived imaging where frame rates are high (100\u2013250 fps)\n\nFig. 7.13\n\nQuad-view of longitudinal strain by speckle-tracking in the LV septum and lateral wall using apical 4-chamber view. Speckle tracking method utilizes automated tracking of the region of interest (ROI). All points in the myocardium are included in the analysis. (a) Automated tracking of septum and lateral wall in the apical 4-chamber view. Each segment of the myocardium is color-coded (dotted line). The color overlay indicates peak systolic strain along the longitudinal direction per color scale on the right upper corner. (b) Longitudinal strain tracings resulting from the analysis of the tracked myocardium in (a). (c) Numerical strain values of the corresponding segments. (d) Colored M-mode display of the strain analysis. Dotted lines (a) and corresponding tracings in (b) yellow, basal septum; aqua, mid-septum; green, apical septum; pink, apical lateral wall; blue, mid-lateral wall; red, basal lateral wall. White dotted line in (b) corresponds to the global strain\n\nFig. 7.14\n\nSpeckle-tracking allows measurement of radial strain in all LV segments, a great contrast to the Doppler-based technique where only the posterior wall can be interrogated due to issues on insonation angle. Radial strain profile is displayed on a positively directed curve that peaks around end-systole heralded by aortic valve closure (AVC). The schematic diagram on the lower left panel indicates the direction of myocardial deformation in systole (solid arrow) and diastole (broken arrows)\n\nFig. 7.15\n\nCircumferential strain profile is displayed on a negatively directed curve that peaks around end-systole heralded by aortic valve closure (AVC). The schematic diagram on the lower left panel indicates the direction of myocardial deformation in systole (solid arrow) and diastole (broken arrows). Measurement of circumferential strain via Doppler-based imaging can only be performed on the lateral wall. Speckle-tracking allows measurement of circumferential strain in all LV segments\n\nFig. 7.16\n\nTDI has been routinely applied in dyssynchrony analysis to identify candidates for cardiac resynchronization therapy (CRT) and is found to be superior to strain rate and strain in predicting response. The intraventricular mechanical delay between the early and late segments predicts response to resynchronization. Two criteria more commonly used in the clinical practice are (1) septal to lateral wall delay >65 ms and (2) standard deviation of the time to peak systolic velocity of 12 segments ?>33 ms. (a) In a normal synchronous heart, regional systolic velocities peak almost simultaneously. Here, the timing of the peak systolic velocity of the septum occurred 20 ms earlier than that of the lateral wall. (b) In failing hearts with left bundle branch block, the lateral\/posterior segment systolic velocity peaks later than septum. Time delay (TD) can be quantified by measuring the difference in the timing of peak systolic velocity between the two opposite walls. In this figure, the septum to lateral wall TD was measured at 110 ms. Alternatively, if one is working on dedicated narrow-sector images (single-wall), TD can be assessed by taking the difference between the time to peak systolic velocities of the basal septum and lateral wall as measured from the onset of electrocardiographic QRS complex\n\nFig. 7.17\n\nWall motion can be quantified by TDI or strain echocardiography. Tissue velocities, strain rates and strain are reduced in ischemia and infarction. However, tissue velocity may not accurately reflect regional function due to tethering. Strain and strain rate identify infarcted segment and correlate with the extent of transmural infarction. Both are less susceptible to cardiac translational motion and tethering. It is encouraged to perform multiple mode of regional analysis to confirm findings that may be confounded by some technical limitations set by the method employed. In this representative TDI curve from a patient with anterior MI, (a) tissue velocity profile may fail to detect hypokinetic\/akinetic segments for reasons explained above. Reduction in the measured Doppler-derived systolic strain rate (b) and strain (c) may be more reflective of regional wall motion abnormalities. Even so, Doppler-derived indices are dependent on the angle of insonation, and this factor may operate on providing a similar reduction in the numerical values of the respective indices. (d) Performing strain analysis by speckle-tracking may eliminate the effect of angle issues and may confirm a true reduction in the myocardial deformation reflected by the Doppler-derived indices\n\nFig. 7.18\n\nSemiautomated measurements of strain by speckle-tracking allows generation of a color-coded image display such as bull's eye plot of the longitudinal segmental strain. The strain color code is depicted in the upper right-hand corner of each image. (a) Normal volunteer with normal strain (shades of red) in all segments. (b) Patient with a myocardial infarction related to proximal left-anterior descending artery lesion demonstrating reduced strain in the anterior septum and anterior and lateral LV free walls. (c) A patient with inferior\u2013posterior myocardial infarction who demonstrated reduced and abnormal (shades of blue) systolic strain in the inferior and posterior walls and preserved strain elsewhere. (d) Patient with nonischemic cardiomyopathy demonstrating reduced strain in all segments and abnormal systolic strains in the anterior septum and anterior LV free wall (shades of blue)\n\nThere exists a significant variability in TDI-derived parameters due to lack of standardized guidelines on data acquisition, partly resulting from the differences in the machine design, and standardized guidelines on post-processing analysis and interpretation. Thus it is difficult to recommend one. It is, however, important to have an insight on the mechanics by which each technique operates and interpret the results in the light of the limitations inherent to each technique.\n\nRecommended Reading\n\nAbraham TP, Dimaano VL, Liang HY. Role of tissue doppler and strain echocardiography in current clinical practice. Circulation. 2007;116(22):2597-2609.PubMedCrossRef\n\nAmundsen BH, Helle-Valle T, Edvardsen T, et al. Noninvasive myocardial strain measurement by speckle tracking echocardiography: validation against sonomicrometry and tagged magnetic resonance imaging. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2006;47(4):789-793.PubMedCrossRef\n\nBax JJ, Bleeker GB, Marwick TH, et al. Left ventricular dyssynchrony predicts response and prognosis after cardiac resynchronization therapy. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2004;44(9):1834-1840.PubMedCrossRef\n\nBountioukos M, Schinkel AF, Bax JJ, et al. Pulsed-wave tissue doppler quantification of systolic and diastolic function of viable and nonviable myocardium in patients with ischemic cardiomyopathy. Am Heart J. 2004;148(6):1079-1084.PubMedCrossRef\n\nDerumeaux G, Loufoua J, Pontier G, et al. Tissue doppler imaging differentiates transmural from nontransmural acute myocardial infarction after reperfusion therapy. Circulation. 2001;103(4):589-596.PubMedCrossRef\n\nDerumeaux G, Ovize M, Loufoua J, et al. Assessment of nonuniformity of transmural myocardial velocities by color-coded tissue doppler imaging: characterization of normal, ischemic, and stunned myocardium. Circulation. 2000;101(12):1390-1395.PubMedCrossRef\n\nDerumeaux G, Ovize M, Loufoua J, et al. Doppler tissue imaging quantitates regional wall motion during myocardial ischemia and reperfusion. Circulation. 1998;97(19):1970-1977.PubMedCrossRef\n\nD'hooge J, Heimdal A, Jamal F, et al. Regional strain and strain rate measurements by cardiac ultrasound: principles, implementation and limitations. Eur J Echocardiogr. 2000;1(3):154-170.PubMedCrossRef\n\nGarcia MJ. Echocardiographic assessment of left ventricular function. J Nucl Cardiol. 2006;13(2):280-293.PubMedCrossRef\n\nGilman G, Khandheria BK, Hagen ME, et al. Strain rate and strain: a step-by-step approach to image and data acquisition. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2004;17(9):1011-1020.PubMedCrossRef\n\nGorcsan J 3rd, Strum DP, Mandarino WA, et al. 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New method for evaluating left ventricular wall motion by color-coded tissue doppler imaging: in vitro and in vivo studies. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1995;25(3):717-724.PubMedCrossRef00421-L)\n\nNagueh SF, Middleton KJ, Kopelen HA, et al. Doppler tissue imaging: a noninvasive technique for evaluation of left ventricular relaxation and estimation of filling pressures. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1997;30(6):1527-1533.PubMedCrossRef00344-6)\n\nOmmen SR, Nishimura RA, Appleton CP, et al. Clinical utility of doppler echocardiography and tissue doppler imaging in the estimation of left ventricular filling pressures: a comparative simultaneous doppler-catheterization study. Circulation. 2000;102(15):1788-1794.PubMedCrossRef\n\nPauliks LB, Vogel M, Madler CF, et al. Regional response of myocardial acceleration during isovolumic contraction during dobutamine stress echocardiography: a color tissue doppler study and comparison with angiocardiographic findings. Echocardiography. 2005;22(10):797-808.PubMedCrossRef\n\nPerk G, Tunick PA, Kronzon I. Non-doppler two-dimensional strain imaging by echocardiography\u2013from technical considerations to clinical applications. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2007;20(3):234-243.PubMedCrossRef\n\nRushmere RF, Crystal DK, Wagner C. The functional anatomy of ventricular contraction. Circ Res. 1953;1(2):162-170.CrossRef\n\nSutherland GR, Bijnens B, McDicken WN. Tissue doppler echocardiography: historical perspective and technological considerations. Echocardiography. 1999;16(5):445-453.PubMedCrossRef\n\nSutherland GR, Di Salvo G, Claus P, et al. Strain and strain rate imaging: a new clinical approach to quantifying regional myocardial function. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2004;17(7):788-802.PubMedCrossRef\n\nUrheim S, Edvardsen T, Torp H, et al. Myocardial strain by Doppler echocardiography. Validation of a new method to quantify regional myocardial function. Circulation. 2000;102(10):1158-1164.PubMedCrossRef\n\nWeidemann F, Wacker C, Rauch A, et al. Sequential changes of myocardial function during acute myocardial infarction, in the early and chronic phase after coronary intervention described by ultrasonic strain rate imaging. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2006;19(7):839-847.PubMedCrossRef\n\nWilkenshoff UM, Sovany A, Wigstrom L, et al. Regional mean systolic myocardial velocity estimation by real-time color doppler myocardial imaging: a new technique for quantifying regional systolic function. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 1998;11(7):683-692.PubMedCrossRef\n\nYu CM, Zhang Q, Chan YS, et al. Tissue doppler velocity is superior to displacement and strain mapping in predicting left ventricular reverse remodelling response after cardiac resynchronisation therapy. Heart. 2006;92(10):1452-1456.PubMedCentralPubMedCrossRef\n\nVan de Veire N, De Sutter J, Bax JJ et al. Technological advances tissue doppler imaging echocardiography. Heart. 2008;Aug;94(8):1065-1074\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_8\n\n# 8. Transesophageal Echocardiography\n\nJulie A. Humphries1  , Christopher J. Kramer, Partho P. Sengupta and Bijoy K. Khandheria\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Heart Care Partners, Greenslopes, Queensland, Australia\n\nJulie A. Humphries\n\nEmail: jhumphries@heartcarepartners.com.au\n\nTransesophageal echocardiography (TEE) involves ultrasound imaging of cardiovascular system from the confines of the gastroesophageal track. This helps reduce signal attenuation and permits the use of higher ultrasound frequencies, thereby providing an enhanced spatial resolution. TEE is currently used in approximately 5\u201310% of patients being evaluated in the cardiovascular ultrasound imaging and hemodynamic laboratory.\n\n## 8.1 Protocol for TEE\n\nFasting based on conscious sedation guidelines, an intravenous access, careful history to rule out presence of laryngeal or gastroesophageal diseases, and removal of dentures are prerequisites.\n\n  * Absolute contraindications to TEE include esophageal stricture, diverticulum, tumor, and recent esophageal or gastric surgery.\n\n  * Topical spray, intravenous sedation, a drying agent to minimize oral secretion, and use of appropriate lubrication are helpful.\n\n  * Before the introduction of the scope into the esophagus, the array is rotated to 0\u00b0 to place the transducer into a conventional transverse plane. A bite guard is used always unless the patient is edentulous. The tip of the transducer is advanced into the esophagus gently without force and stopped if any resistance is encountered. After moving the transducer into the desired location, the probe is manipulated to orient the imaging planes for obtaining the desired cross-sectional images.\n\n  * Although each of the views represents echocardiographic image in cross section, moving the probes through the entire extent of a structure permits a rapid three-dimensional evaluation of cardiac structures.\n\nProcedural risks are low in trained hands. However, they need to be explained clearly to the patient. These include transient throat pain, laryngospasm, aspiration, hypotension, hypertension, tachycardia, mucosal bleeding, esophageal rupture, and rare risk of death. Benzocaine topical spary can cause toxic methemoglobinemia. The treatment is administration of methylene blue in addition to supportive measures. Being semi-invasive, appropriate training requirements are needed and have been laid down by both, the American Society of Echocardiography and the British Society of Echocardiography.\n\n## 8.2 Standard TEE views\n\nNormal cardiac structures seen on different transesophageal views (Table 8.1) are shown in Figs. 8.1\u20138.20. Figure 8.21 shows maneuvers utilized for delineation of flow across inter-atrial septum. Transgastric views are shown in Figs. 8.22\u20138.28.\n\nTable 8.1\n\nTransesophageal echocardiography cross sections (Reproduced with permission from the recommendations of American Society of Echocardiography)\n\nWindow (depth from incisors) | Cross section | Multiplane angle range | Structures imaged\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nUpper esophageal (20\u201325 cm) | Aortic arch long axis (s) | 0\u00b0 | Aortic arch, left brachio v\n\n|\n\nAortic arch short axis | 90\u00b0 | Aortic arch, PA, PV, left brachio v\n\nMid-esophageal (30\u201340 cm) | Four-chamber | 0\u00b0\u201320\u00b0 | LV, LA, RV, RA, MV, TV, IAS\n\n|\n\nMitral commissural | 60\u00b0\u201370\u00b0 | MV, LV, LA\n\n|\n\nTwo-chamber | 80\u00b0\u2013100\u00b0 | LV, LA, LAA, MV, CS\n\n|\n\nLong axis | 120\u00b0\u2013160\u00b0 | LV, LA, AV, LVOT, MV, asc aorta\n\n|\n\nRV inflow-outflow | 60\u00b0\u201390\u00b0 | RV, RA, TV, RVOT, PV, PA\n\n|\n\nAV short axis | 30\u00b0\u201360\u00b0 | AV, IAS, coronary ostia, LVOT, PV\n\n|\n\nAV long axis | 120\u00b0\u2013160\u00b0 | AV, LVOT, prox asc aorta, right PA\n\n|\n\nBicaval | 80\u00b0\u2013110\u00b0 | RA, SVC, IVC, IAS, LA\n\n|\n\nAsc aortic short axis | 0\u00b0\u201360\u00b0 | Asc aorta, SVC, PA, right PA\n\n|\n\nAsc aortic long axis | 100\u00b0\u2013150\u00b0 | Asc aorta, right PA\n\n|\n\nDesc aorta short axis | 0\u00b0 | Desc thoracic aorta, left pleural space\n\n|\n\nDesc aorta long axis | 90\u00b0\u2013110\u00b0 | Desc thoracic aorta, left pleural space\n\nTransgastric (40\u201345 cm) | Basal short axis | 0\u00b0\u201320\u00b0 | LV, MV, RV, TV\n\n|\n\nMid short axis | 0\u00b0\u201320\u00b0 | LV, RV, pap mm\n\n|\n\nTwo-chamber | 80\u00b0\u2013100\u00b0 | LV, MV, chordae, pap mm, CS, LA\n\n|\n\nLong axis | 90\u00b0\u2013120\u00b0 | LVOT, AV, MV\n\n|\n\nRV inflow | 100\u00b0\u2013120\u00b0 | RV, TV, RA, TV chordae, pap mm\n\nDeep transgastric (45\u201350 cm) | Long axis | 0\u00b0\u201320\u00b0 (anteflexion) | LVOT, AV, asc aorta, arch\n\nBrachio v Brachiocephalic vein, PA pulmonary artery, PV pulmonic valve, LV left ventricle, LA left atrium, RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, MV mitral valve, TV tricuspid valve, IAS inter atrial septum, LAA left atrial appendage, CS coronary sinus, AV aortic valve, LVOT left ventricular outflow tract, prox proximal, RVOT right ventricular outflow tract, SVC superior vena cava, IVC inferior vena cava, RPA right pulmonary artery, asc ascending, desc descending, pap mm papillary muscles\n\nFig. 8.1\n\nFour chamber mid-esophageal view. LA left atrium, LV left ventricle, RA right atrium, RV right ventricle\n\nFig. 8.2\n\nTwo chamber mid-esophageal view. LA left atrium, LV left ventricle\n\nFig. 8.3\n\nLong axis mid-esophageal view. LA left atrium, LV left ventricle, AO aorta\n\nFig. 8.4\n\n(a) Mitral valve 0\u00b0 view. LA left atrium, LV left ventricle, MV mitral valve. (b) Mitral valve at 0 degrees with color Doppler. (c) Mitral valve \"drop out\" view at 76\u00b0 (usually best seen 60\u201380\u00b0) and shows P3, A2 and P1 segments of the mitral valve leaflets. (d) \"Drop out\" view of mitral valve showing mid A2 segment regurgitation\n\nFig. 8.5\n\n(a) Long axis view of the mitral valve. AL anterior leaflet, PL posterior leaflet. (b) Long axis mitral valve view shows mild mitral regurgitation on color flow Doppler\n\nFig. 8.6\n\n(a) Short axis mid-esophageal view at approximately 60\u00b0. The trileaflet aortic valve (center) and pulmonary valve (arrow) are both seen. MPA main pulmonary artery, RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, LA left atrium. (b) Zoomed up view of the open trileaflet aortic valve. The left main coronary artery (arrow) arises from the left coronary cusp (LCC). RCC right coronary cusp, NCC non-coronary cusp\n\nFig. 8.7\n\nTwo-dimensional biplane view of the open trileaflet aortic valve. Views are at 90\u00b0 orthogonal to each other using the 3D tranesophageal probe\n\nFig. 8.8\n\n(a) Long axis view at 145\u00b0 showing closed aortic valve in long axis. (b) Long axis view at 145\u00b0 showing open aortic valve\n\nFig. 8.9\n\nAortic root and ascending aorta. This view is achieved by withdrawing the probe and reducing the multiplane angle to 110\u2013120\u00b0\n\nFig. 8.10\n\nAortic root dimensions (from left to right): aortic annulus, trans-sinus diameter, sino-tubular junction, proximal ascending aorta\n\nFig. 8.11\n\nStandard lower-esophageal view of the tricuspid valve (at 0\u00b0). There is a Eustachian valve (EV) seen here. The coronary sinus (CS) is also seen\n\nFig. 8.12\n\nTricuspid valve (arrows) seen at 52\u00b0. This is often a good position for color Doppler tricuspid regurgitation signal\n\nFig. 8.13\n\n(a) Mid-esophageal view of right ventricular outflow tract, pulmonary valve (arrow) and main pulmonary artery seen at 74\u00b0. (b) Pulmonary regurgitation color Doppler in the same view\n\nFig. 8.14\n\nBiplane imaging through the pulmonary valve with color Doppler shows the pulmonary valve in short axis (right panel) with central regurgitation\n\nFig. 8.15\n\n(a) Left atrial appendage seen in the mid-esophageal view (36\u00b0). This is an optimal view for Pulse Wave Doppler sample placement. No thrombus seen. The coronary sinus (arrow) is seen coursing between the left atrial appendage and the annulus of the mitral valve. (b) Pulse wave Doppler signal approximately 1 cm into the mouth of the left atrial appendage demonstrating normal velocities. Signals above the line and corresponding with the P wave are ejection velocities, and below the line are filling velocities. Velocities above 0.35m\/s are less likely to develop thrombus. (c) Further left atrial appendage views on multiplane imaging. It is important to image the left atrial appendage in multiple planes as multilobed left atrial appendage can have thrombus in a lobe not seen in other planes. This example is free of thrombus. (d) Left atrial appendage multiplane view at 145\u00b0 shows prominent pectinate muscles which can sometimes be confused with thrombus\n\nFig. 8.16\n\nLeft superior pulmonary vein seen with color flow Doppler. It lies adjacent to the left atrial appendage separated by the \"Q tip\"\n\nFig. 8.17\n\nBiplane color imaging of the left superior pulmonary vein orifice allows for easy identification of the left inferior pulmonary vein (LIPV) seen in the right panel\n\nFig. 8.18\n\nRight superior, middle and inferior pulmonary veins seen on color flow imaging\n\nFig. 8.19\n\n(a) Interatrial septum (arrow). This view demonstrates the retroaortic part of the interatrial septum which represents the most superior aspect. (b) Interatrial septum (zoomed up view from previous image)\n\nFig. 8.20\n\n(a) Interatrial septum seen bowing towards the left atrium in the setting of raised right atrial pressure during inspiration. (b) Large patent foramen ovale (arrow). (c) Left to right color flow seen through large patent foramen ovale. (d) Bubble contrast seen coming through patent foramen ovale during valsalva demonstrating right to left shunting\n\nFig. 8.21\n\n(a) Small secundum ASD with and without color flow Doppler. Color imaging shows small left to right shunt (arrow) (b) Patient with a PFO and an ASD which is very posterior. Separate communications and shunting can be seen on the two images (a) and (b)\n\nFig. 8.22\n\nStandard transesophageal transgastric view showing the left ventricle in short axis at the mid ventricular level\n\nFig. 8.23\n\nTransgastric view of the left ventricle at the level of the mitral valve seen in short axis (valve open)\n\nFig. 8.24\n\nTransgastric view of the left ventricle in the long axis (87\u00b0). This view gives good information about the subvalvular apparatus\n\nFig. 8.25\n\nTransgastric biplane view through the mitral valve which shows the valve in short and long axis simultaneously, with detailed subvalvular apparatus examination\n\nFig. 8.26\n\nTransgastric view of the open tricuspid valve (arrows) in the short axis (left panel) and long axis (right panel)\n\nFig. 8.27\n\nTransgastric view of right ventricular inflow and outflow. RA right atrium, RV right ventricle, AO aorta, MPA main pulmonary artery\n\nFig. 8.28\n\nInferior vena cava (IVC) in long axis seen via the deep transgastric view at 48\u00b0. HV hepatic vein\n\n## 8.3 Application of TEE\n\nIn addition to the usual indications for TEE (suspected endocarditis, source of embolus, and suspected aortic dissection), there are several indications that are unique to critical care patients. These include:\n\n1.\n\nAssessment of unexplained hypotension\n\n2.\n\nSuspected massive pulmonary embolism\n\n3.\n\nUnexplained hypoxemia\n\n4.\n\nComplications of cardiothoracic surgery\n\nLess common indications for TEE in the critical care unit include continuous hemodynamic monitoring, evaluation of potential transplant donors, and guidance of central-line placement. The recent development of transnasal TEE probes may allow for monitoring in the awake patient. The potential benefits of the transnasal probe include less risk for esophageal trauma in patients with varices or coagulopathies and less need for sedation in those with compromised respiratory or hemodynamic status. Figures 8.29\u20138.35 show clinical examples where incremental use of advanced techniques in TEE has been illustrated.\n\nFig. 8.29\n\n52 year old male for routine kidney transplant workup. Incidental finding of mass on mitral valve anterior leaflet. Histological surgical specimen showed non-bacterial thrombotic endocarditis\n\nFig. 8.30\n\nBiplane imaging of the anterior leaflet mass\n\nFig. 8.31\n\nColor imaging showing mitral regurgitation around the mass\n\nFig. 8.32\n\nThree-dimensional imaging of the anterior mitral valve leaflet mass from the left atrial perspective at valve closure\n\nFig. 8.33\n\nThree-dimensional transesophageal imaging of the anterior mitral valve leaflet mass from the left ventricular perspective, showing involvement of the atrial surface on the leaflet\n\nFig. 8.34\n\n(a) Type I Aortic Dissection, Ascending Aorta True Lumen (TL) (Superior), False Lumen (FL) (Inferior). (b) Type I Aortic Dissection, Ascending Aorta with color, Color flowing into false lumen True Lumen (TL) (Inferior), False Lumen (FL) (Superior)\n\nFig. 8.35\n\n(a) Type III Aortic dissection, Short Axis view with color, True lumen (T) (Inferior) False lumen (F) (Superior). (b) Type III Aortic dissection, Short Axis view with color, True lumen (T) (Inferior), False lumen (F) (Superior)\n\n## 8.4 Pitfalls\n\nTEE needs expertise for avoiding potential erroneous diagnosis resulting from misinterpretation of normal and abnormal anatomy.\n\n  * Air within the esophagus and stomach, or an air-filled trachea and bronchi intervening between probe and cardiac structures can consistently produce artifacts or interfere with certain tomographic views (Fig. 8.36).\n\nFig. 8.36\n\n(a) Example of artifact in the mid-esophageal view which interferes with image quality. Artifact can result from poor contact, presence of air in the esophagus, or from intracardiac structures of high density. (b) Example of color flow imaging artifact resulting from esophageal air interfering with probe contact\n\n  * Reverberation signals or ghost shadows are common and result from impedance mismatch resulting in linear artifacts most commonly seen in the upper ascending and mid-descending aorta. Imaging of the upper ascending aorta with the horizontal plane is limited by a blind spot caused by interposed bronchus between the esophagus and upper ascending aorta.\n\n  * Normal anatomy may be interpreted abnormal. These include muscular trabeculations in the atrial appendage mistaken as mass or thrombus, the terminal portion of the partition between the left atrial appendage and left upper pulmonary vein appearing as a globular mass, fat-laden fossa ovalis or lipomatous hypertrophy of the atrial septum interpreted as a mass, and surgical sutures appearing filamentous or pedunculated and interpreted as mass or vegetations.\n\n  * \"Echo-free spaces\": Certain normal structures generate echo-free spaces and may be incorrectly interpreted as cysts or abscesses. These include the transverse and the oblique sinus.\n\n  * Other difficulties that may be encountered during TEE include the adequate visualization and quantification of aortic valve regurgitation, aortic valve and pulmonary valve gradient estimation, and non-foreshortened visualization of the left ventricular apex.\n\n  * Finally, ultrasound transducers generate heat. During prolonged monitoring, the device may be required to be shut down periodically to allow cooling.\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_9\n\n# 9. Intraoperative Transesophageal Echocardiography\n\nAlina Nicoara1  and Madhav Swaminathan\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Anesthesiology, Yale University School of Medicine, West Haven, CT, USA\n\nAlina Nicoara\n\nEmail: alina.nicoara@yale.edu\n\nFig. 9.1\n\nAt the mid-esophageal level, at an imaging depth of about 35 cm, several tomographic views can be obtained by adjusting the imaging angle. (a) Mid-esophageal four-chamber view (ME 4-Ch) is obtained at an imaging angle between 0\u00b0 and 20\u00b0 with slight retroflexion of the tip of the probe. This image shows the 4-Ch as well as the mitral and tricuspid valves and it is used to assess the size and function of the heart chambers and the structure and function of the valves. It is the usual starting point for most intraoperative imaging (RA, right atrium; LA, left atrium; RV, right ventricle; LV, left ventricle; MV, mitral valve; TV, tricuspid valve). (b) Mid-esophageal two chamber view (ME 2Ch) is obtained from the same position by advancing the multiplane angle to about 90\u00b0. It visualizes the mitral valve, the anterior and inferior walls of the LV as well as the apical cap, AL, anterior leaflet of the mitral valve; Pl, posterior leaflet of the mitral valve. (c) The mid-esophageal mitral commissural view is obtained at an imaging angle of about 60\u00b0 and is used mainly to assess the structure and function of the mitral valve. The A2 segment of the anterior leaflet is seen in the middle of the image, while the P3 and P1 segments are seen on the left and right sides of the image, respectively. (d) The mid-esophageal long-axis view (ME LAX) at an imaging angle from 120\u00b0 to 130\u00b0 is mostly used to evaluate the motion of the anteroseptal (right side of the image) and inferolateral walls (left side) of the LV; presence of structural abnormalities of the MV such as prolapsed or flail leaflets and LV outflow tract pathology (AoV, aortic valve)\n\nFig. 9.2\n\n(a) The mid-esophageal bicaval view is obtained at an imaging angle of about 90\u00b0 by turning the probe slightly to the right. It is used mainly for the assessment of the integrity of the interatrial septum (IAS) and to guide placement of catheters and cannulae placed intraoperatively (IVC, inferior vena cava; SVC, superior vena cava; LA, left atrium; RA, right atrium). (b) The mid-esophageal aortic valve short-axis view (ME AV SAX) is obtained at the mid-esophageal level by rotating the angle to 30\u00b0\u201360\u00b0, placing the aortic valve in the center of the screen and decreasing the imaging depth to about 10 cm. This image is used to evaluate the aortic valve cusps, measure valve area by planimetry and visualize regurgitant jets using color flow Doppler (AoV, aortic valve; RC, right coronary cusp; LC, left coronary cusp; NC, non-coronary cusp; RV, right ventricle). (c) The mid-esophageal aortic valve long-axis view (ME AV LAX) visualizes the LV outflow tract, aortic valve, and ascending aorta. It is obtained at an imaging angle of about 120\u00b0\u2013160\u00b0. Decreasing the imaging depth to about 10 cm also helps optimize the image. Similar to the SAX view, this view is used to evaluate the aortic valve cusps for the presence of vegetations or other masses and to assess the severity of aortic insufficiency with color flow Doppler (Asc Ao, ascending aorta; MV, mitral valve). (d) The mid-esophageal right ventricular inflow\u2013outflow view is obtained from the ME 4Ch view by advancing the imaging angle to 60\u00b0\u201390\u00b0 and placing the tricuspid valve in the center of the screen. This view is used to visualize the tricuspid valve (TV), the right ventricular outflow tract, the right ventricle free wall, and the pulmonary valve\n\nFig. 9.3\n\nFrom the mid-esophageal level, the probe can be further advanced into the stomach to the transgastric position. (a) Anteflexion of the probe until it makes contact with the gastric wall enables the transgastric mid-papillary short axis view (TG mid SAX). The left ventricle is seen in cross-section as a circular structure at the level of the papillary muscles. This view is mostly used to evaluate the function and size of the left ventricle as well as regional wall motion abnormalities. In addition, pericardial effusions can also be clearly seen. While evaluating wall motion abnormalities, it is important to note that the orientation of left ventricular walls is opposite to that of chest wall imaging. (b) The transgastric basal short-axis view (TG basal SAX) is obtained by further anteflexion and\/or slight withdrawal of the probe. Similar to the TG mid SAX, the basal view is also used to assess the size and function of the LV. (c) The transgastric 2-Ch view is obtained by rotating the imaging angle to 90\u00b0. It visualizes the anterior and inferior left ventricular walls, the mitral valve and the subvalvular apparatus (LV, left ventricle; LA, left atrium; MV, mitral valve). (d) The transgastric right ventricular inflow view (TG RV inflow) is obtained from the TG mid SAX by rotating the imaging angle to about 100\u00b0 and turning the probe slightly to the right. It visualizes the right ventricle in long axis (RV, right ventricle; RA, right atrium; TV, tricuspid valve). (e) The deep transgastric long axis view (deep TG LAX) is obtained by further advancing the probe in the stomach and anteflexing in such a way that the probe is adjacent to the left ventricular apex with the imaging angle at 0\u00b0. This view is used for measuring velocities across the aortic valve and left ventricular outflow tract using spectral Doppler (LVOT, left ventricular outflow tract)\n\nFig. 9.4\n\nTEE can be used to examine the proximal ascending aorta, the distal aortic arch, and the descending aorta. Because of the interposition of the trachea and the left main stem, the distal ascending aorta and the proximal aortic arch cannot always be examined (the echo \"blind spot\"). As these aortic segments are used most frequently for aortic cannulation and cross-clamping, the complete evaluation of these segments requires epiaortic scanning (a) Mid-esophageal ascending aorta short-axis view (ME asc aortic SAX) is obtained from the mid-esophageal level by slightly withdrawing and anteflexing the probe until the ascending aorta is seen in short axis (Asc Ao, ascending aorta; PA, pulmonary artery; right PA, right pulmonary artery; SVC, superior vena cava). (b) From this position, advancing the angle to about 90\u00b0\u2013120\u00b0 will generate the mid-esophageal ascending aorta long axis view (ME asc aortic LAX). Both views may be used to evaluate the ascending aorta for atheroma and dissection flaps, to evaluate the pulmonary artery for the presence of thrombus or for the position of the pulmonary artery catheter, and to assess the dimensions of the ascending aorta. (c) The descending aorta short-axis view is obtained by turning the probe to the left at an imaging angle of 0\u00b0 until the descending aorta comes into view as a circle. The imaging depth should be decreased to about 6\u20138 cm and the aorta should also be examined distally as far as possible. (d) Forward rotation of the imaging angle to 90\u00b0 generates the descending aorta long axis view. Both views of the descending aorta can be used to assess descending aorta for the presence of atheromatous plaque or dissection flaps. (e) By withdrawing the probe in the upper esophagus at an imaging angle of 0\u00b0, the circular shape of the descending aorta changes into a tubular shape of the aortic arch, thus enabling the upper esophageal aortic arch long-axis view (UE aortic arch LAX). (f) From this position, advancing the imaging angle to about 90\u00b0 will generate the upper esophageal aortic arch short axis view (UE aortic arch SAX) (PA, pulmonary artery). Both views can be used to assess the aortic arch for the presence of atheromatous plaque, dissection flaps and other interventions like endovascular aortic stents. The UE aortic arch SAX can also be used to assess velocities across the pulmonary valve, which is oriented well to allow a spectral Doppler beam to be directed along transvalvular flow\n\nFig. 9.5\n\nMitral valve pathology. (a) Mitral valve vegetations appear as irregular, heterogeneous masses originating most often from the atrial side. They are accompanied by valvular regurgitation and are prone to embolization, MV, mitral valve. (b) Posterior leaflet flail as seen in the ME 4-Ch view can be due to chordal elongation or rupture and usually leads to severe mitral regurgitation. (c) Mitral valve regurgitation can be due to degenerative disease of the mitral valve or subvalvular apparatus or due to changes in the geometry of the mitral valve annulus or the left ventricle. It is best assessed and quantified in the mid-esophageal views. (d) One of the methods of quantifying the mitral regurgitation is by measuring the vena contracta, which is the narrowest portion of the regurgitant jet. It is usually measured in the ME LAX view. (e) Measurement of the radius of the proximal isovelocity surface area (PISA) allows calculation of the effective regurgitant orifice area and of the regurgitant volume\n\nFig. 9.6\n\nAortic valve pathology. (a) Aortic valve calcification, fibrosis, and thickening result in decrease in the flexibility of the cusps and fusion of the commissures with limitation of flow and aortic stenosis. The ME AV SAX view allows examination of the cusps for pathology. (b) Turbulent flow through a stenotic aortic valve can be observed with color flow Doppler in the ME AV SAX. (c) Bicuspid aortic valve, seen in ME AV SAX, is the most common congenital malformation of the aortic valve. (d) Aortic valve vegetations originate usually from the ventricular side of the valve are irregular and heterogeneous and lead to valvular regurgitation. TEE is the diagnostic modality of choice for endocarditis. Aortic valve vegetations are seen here in the ME AV LAX view. (e) The same lesions are also seen on the aortic valve cusps in the ME AV SAX view. (f) The ME AV LAX is the preferred view to quantify the severity of aortic valve regurgitation with color flow Doppler. (g) Aortic stenosis and aortic regurgitation can also be quantified using continuous wave Doppler in the deep TG LAX view and analyzing the velocities of the stenotic or the regurgitant lesions. This image depicts concomitant severe aortic stenosis and mild aortic regurgitation\n\nFig. 9.7\n\nProsthetic valves. Transesophageal echocardiography can provide detailed information on prosthetic valves through high-quality two and three-dimensional echo images and Doppler examination. (a) Bileaflet mechanical valve in systole (closed) in the mitral position. (b) Bileaflet mechanical valve in diastole (open) in the mitral position. Prosthetic valves should be evaluated for the movement of the mechanical occluders according to specifications, stability, lack of rocking motion, and absence of attached fibrinous or thrombotic material. (c) An open bileaflet mechanical valve in the aortic position. (d) Bioprosthetic valve in the aortic position. The three supporting struts and the three leaflets are visible in open position. (e) In the ME LAX view, a significant regurgitant jet is visible originating from outside of the annulus of the bileaflet mechanical valve and representing a paravalvular leak\n\nFig. 9.8\n\nMajor vessels. (a) Dissection of the descending aorta with blood flow seen from the true lumen into the false lumen through multiple sites of entry in the descending aorta long axis view (TL, true lumen; FL, false lumen). (b) Large atheromatous plaque seen in the descending aorta in the long axis (left) and short axis (right) views. (c) Thrombus seen in the distal right pulmonary artery in the ME ascending aorta SAX view (Asc Ao, ascending aorta; PA, pulmonary artery)\n\nFig. 9.9\n\nTEE is a valuable tool in diagnosing pericardial effusions as a cause of hemodynamic instability. (a) In the TG mid SAX, the pericardial effusion is seen as an echolucent space posterior to the heart chambers (RV, right ventricle; LV, left ventricle). (b) In the ME 4-Ch view, the pericardial effusion is compressing on the right and left atria distorting the normal anatomy (RA, right atrium; LA, left atrium). (c) ME 4-Ch view in the same patient after drainage of the effusion\n\nFig. 9.10\n\nAssessment of intraoperative diastolic function involves the comprehensive use of spectral Doppler. (a) Transmitral pulsed wave Doppler in the mid-esophageal 4-Ch view (Fig. 9.1a) demonstrating early (E) and late (A) diastolic flow velocities away from baseline. The direction of transmitral flow is in contrast to conventional chest wall imaging. (b) Pulsed wave Doppler of peak velocities in the left upper pulmonary vein. Forward flow in systole (S), diastole (D), and reversed flow (Ar) during atrial contraction can be seen. (c) Tissue velocity of the lateral mitral annulus is shown using tissue Doppler imaging. Two diastolic waves, early (E?) and late (A?) can be seen above baseline and a downward wave in systole (S?) as the base descends during this period. (d) Propagation velocity of early diastolic left ventricular filling assessed using color M-mode. The red arrow illustrates the slope that depicts propagation velocity\n\nFig. 9.11\n\nImaging of the descending aorta for dissections can sometimes be confounded. The bright echo-reflective posterior wall of the aorta can generate a mirror image distal to the actual image of the descending aorta. An intraaortic balloon pump A is seen in the lumen of the aorta, while its mirror image B can be seen in the aortic mirror image. This may be easily mistaken for a dissection\n\nFig. 9.12\n\nTEE is particularly useful in the assessment of inflow and outflow cannulae of ventricular assist devices (VAD). (a) In this mid-esophageal 2-Ch view, a left-sided VAD inflow canula inserted in the left ventricular apex can be seen as an echo-dense object. (b) Color flow Doppler may be used to determine quality of flow across the device for assessment of obstruction. (c) The transgastric mid-short axis view shows the cannula in cross section. (d) While weaning from cardiopulmonary bypass, there may be a significant amount of air that can be seen on TEE as bright echo-reflective bubbles in the left ventricle. It is critical to perform de-airing procedures at this time\n\nFig. 9.13\n\nA common adjuvant procedure during mitral valve surgery is an edge-to-edge repair (Alfieri technique) that is usually performed between the A2 and P2 scallops of the mitral valve for mitral regurgitation, or when there is excessive anterior leaflet tissue. On TEE imaging in the mid-esophageal 4-Ch (a) and transgastric basal short axis (b) views, the effects of the edge-to-edge stitch may be seen on the mitral valve. A double mitral opening can also be appreciated in the short axis views\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_10\n\n# 10. Use of Echo Contrast in Routine Practice\n\nShizhen Liu1  and Mani A. Vannan\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiovascular Medicine, The Ohio State University Medical Center, Columbus, OH, USA\n\nShizhen Liu\n\nEmail: shizhen.liu@osumc.edu\n\n## 10.1 Introduction\n\nUltrasound contrast agents, used with contrast-specific imaging techniques, have an established role for diagnostic cardiovascular imaging in the echocardiography laboratory. It has approved indication of Left ventricular opacification (LVO) and enhancement of endocardial border delineation (EBD). Also, a number of investigative reports have confirmed the utility of the off-label use of contrast agents for assessment of myocardial perfusion (MCE).\n\n## 10.2 What Are Ultrasound Contrast Agents?\n\n  * Microbubbles in contrast agent compose of gas and the shell.\n\n  * According to the different gas inside the microbubbles, contrast agents could be divided into two generations.\n\n    * First generation: air\n\n    * Second generation: perfluorocarbon or sulfur fluoride\n\n  * The Second generation agents have better stability and contrast effect and are in use now.\n\n## 10.3 Contrast Agents in Use\n\nAgent | Size, ?m (range) | Gas | Shell composition | Manufacture | Approved in\n\n---|---|---|---|---|---\n\nLevovist | 2\u20133 (2\u20138) | Air | Lipid (palmitic acid) | Bayer Schering Pharma AG (Berlin, Germany) | Canada, Europe, Asia\n\nOptison | 4.7 (1\u201310) | Perfluoropropane | Human albumin | GE Healthcare (Princeton, NJ) | US, Canada\n\nDefinity | 1.5 (1\u201310) | Perfluoropropane | Phospholipid | Lantheus Medical Imaging (North Billerica, MA) | US, Canada, Europe\n\nSonoVue | 2.5 (1\u201310) | Sulfur hexafluoride | Phospholipid | BRACCO Diagnostics (Milan, Italy) | Canada, Europe, Asia\n\n## 10.4 Indication in Clinical Practice \u2013 1 (Fig. 10.1)\n\nLV volumes and LVEF | \u2022Suboptimal image quality: Obesity; chronic obstructive pulmonary disease patients in intensive care settings; mechanically ventilated; chest deformities\n\n---|---\n\n\u2022Optimal image quality: need accurate, precise and repeatable measurements of absolute LV volumes, mass and global systolic performance\n\nFig. 10.1\n\nApical 4 chamber view before (left) and after (right) contrast\n\n## 10.5 Indication in Clinical Practice \u2013 2 (Fig. 10.2)\n\nConfirm or exclude abnormalities in apex | \u2022Apical aneurysm (Fig. 10.2, left)\n\n---|---\n\n\u2022Apical thrombus\n\n\u2022Apical false tendons or trabeculations\n\n\u2022Apical hypertrophic cardiomyopathy\n\n\u2022Endocardial noncompaction\n\nFig. 10.2\n\nLV aneurysm (arrow) is confirmed after contrast (lower panel)\n\n## 10.6 Indication in Clinical Practice \u2013 3\n\nCardiac chamber mass differentiation | \u2022Stasis of blood: swirl within a region of blood stasis\n\n---|---\n\n\u2022Thrombus: complete contrast dropout\n\n\u2022Tumor: reperfuse with contrast after several cardiac cycles\n\nCardiac structure differentiation | \u2022Myocardial rupture\n\n\u2022Pseudoaneurysm\n\n\u2022Giant aortic sinus aneurysm differentiated with RA and\/or cyst\n\nDoppler enhancement | \u2022Tricuspid regurgitation\n\n\u2022Aortic stenosis\n\n\u2022Pulmonary vein flow\n\n## 10.7 Protocol for Routine Contrast Study \u2013 1\n\n  * Laboratory setup\n\n    * Team approach: physicians, sonographers, and nurses\n\n    * Written document: indications; injecting and imaging protocols; personnel responsibilities\n\n    * Reimbursement procedures establishment\n\n    * Contrast agent storage\n\n## 10.8 Protocol for Routine Contrast Study \u2013 2\n\n  * Contrast procedure\n\n    * Patient selection\n\n    * Explain procedure to patient\n\n    * Establish IV access\n\n    * Determine optimal mode of administration (Table 10.1)\n\n    * Optimize equipment settings (Table 10.2)\n\nTable 10.1\n\nAdministration methods of contrast agent\n\nCE administration | Characteristics\n\n---|---\n\nBolus | \u2022Quick and simple to perform with a high level of contrast enhancement.\n\n\u2022Higher incidence of attenuation artifact. (Overcome by slowing the rate of bolus injection or using a dilute bolus.)\n\n\u2022Need a slow flush with enough saline or 5% dextrose and water solution (D5W) to opacify the LV properly.\n\n\u2022Flush is terminated as soon as contrast is seen in the RV and the contrast preset is activated.\n\nContinuous infusion | \u2022Control the injection of microbubbles more efficiently and are essential for quantitative perfusion studies.\n\n\u2022IV setup is usually more complicated and time-consuming.\n\nTable 10.2\n\nEquipment settings for contrast echocardiography\n\nControl | Adjustment\n\n---|---\n\nMechanical Index (MI) | \u20220.4\u20130.6. Select harmonic imaging\n\nOverall gain | \u2022Higher gain does not cause microbubble destruction\n\n\u2022Lower MI requires higher gain\n\nTime gain compensation (TGC) | \u2022Greater TGC gain in greater depths\n\nCompression (dynamic range) | \u2022Medium dynamic range in LVO\n\nTransducer frequency | \u2022Lowest transmit frequency\n\nTransmit focus | \u2022Usually at distal location; move to apex as needed\n\nPersistence | \u2022Low or off\n\nDepth | \u2022Optimize depth to region of interest (e.g., LA is not needed during LVO)\n\n## 10.9 Protocols for Stress Contrast Study\n\n  * Administration\n\n    * In exercise stress echocardiography\n\n      * Baseline and peak stages\n\n    * In pharmacologic stress echocardiography\n\n      * Baseline, low dose, and peak stages\n\n  * For peak images\n\n    * Agent is given 15\u201320 s before termination of the test\n\n    * Followed by a slower bolus of 2\u20133 mL of flush\n\n    * Establish the optimal window in the non-contrast preset\n\n## 10.10 Techniques, Problems, and How to Resolve | Artifact | Causes | Solutions\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nLVO | Attenuation | \u2022High concentration of microbubbles within the LV cavity\n\n\u2022Rib or lung artifact | \u2022Waiting for dissipating over time\n\n\u2022Slowing the speed to inject the flush\n\n\u2022Using a dilute bolus\n\n\u2022Using infusion method\n\n\u2022Repositioning transducer to minimize rib or lung artifact\n\n|\n\nSwirling of the contrast | \u2022MI setting is too high | \u2022Lowering the MI\n\n|  |\n\n\u2022Concentration of contrast is too low | \u2022Increasing the amount of contrast injected\n\n|  |  |\n\n\u2022Moving the focus to the region of the swirling\n\nMCE | False-positive perfusion | \u2022High gain settings | \u2022Using high MI impulse to differentiate: False-positive perfusion shows no reperfusion after high MI flash\n\n|\n\nBlooming | \u2022High gain settings | \u2022Lowering the gain\n\nMotion artifact\n\n|  |\n\n\u2022Always see when using power Doppler imaging methods | \u2022Adjusting pulse repetition frequency (PRF) setting to minimize it\n\n## 10.11 Safety\n\n  * Common adverse effects\n\n    * Infrequent and mild: headache, weakness, fatigue, palpitations, nausea, dizziness, dry mouth, altered sense of smell or taste, dyspnea, urticaria, pruritus, back pain, chest pain, rash\n\n    * Rarely: Allergic and potentially life threatening hypersensitivity reactions\n\n## 10.12 FDA Recommendation for Definity and Optison\n\n  * Contraindication\n\n    * Right-to-left, bidirectional, or transient right-to-left cardiac shunts\n\n    * Hypersensitivity to perflutren\n\n    * Hypersensitivity to blood, blood products, or albumin (applies to Optison only).\n\n    * Intra-arterial injection\n\n  * Patients with pulmonary hypertension or unstable cardiopulmonary conditions\n\n    * Monitoring of vital signs, electrocardiography, and cutaneous oxygen saturation during and for at least 30 min after\n\n## 10.13 Summary\n\nContrast echocardiography is an important and a significant addition to a modern echocardiography laboratory. Successful implementation of contrast echo depends on a team effort, including appropriate dosing and administration of the agent, optimized system settings for contrast-enhanced study, and correct image acquisition and interpretation. Fully understanding the bubble physics and instrument setting, together with the indications, and contraindications for contrast-enhanced studies, will maximize the benefit to patients.\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_11\n\n# 11. Three-Dimensional Echocardiography\n\nLissa Sugeng1  , Lynn Weinert and Roberto M. Lang\n\n(1)\n\nSection of Cardiology, Department of Medicine, Non-Invasive Cardiovascular Imaging Laboratory, University of Chicago Medical Center, Chicago, IL, USA\n\nLissa Sugeng\n\nEmail: lsugeng@medicine.bsd.uchicago.edu\n\n## 11.1 Introduction\n\n  * Two-dimensional echocardiography (2DE) is one of the most widely used and well established noninvasive imaging tools in the cardiology.\n\nFig. 11.1\n\nRT3DE Examination Strategy. Incorporation of a three-dimensional echo examination in routine clinical echocardiographic study may pose challenges due to time constraints. Hence, performing a focused 3D examination is essential. Depending on the patient's pathology, a sonographer may focus on imaging the valve using a zoom mode of imaging to assess valve area or determine a prolapsing segment and acquire a full-volume of the left ventricle to quantitate left ventricular function. If the patient has a cardiomyopathy which requires a functional assessment, then a full-volume acquisition of the left ventricle should be obtained. There are essential steps for 3D imaging, which include: (1) data acquisition, (2) application of cut-planes, and (3) determination of the type of display\n\nFig. 11.2\n\nThere are three modes of acquisition for both transthoracic and transesophageal RT3DE: (1) narrow-angled, (2) zoom, and (3) full-volume. Narrow-angled and zoom mode of acquisition are both truly \"real-time\" since data is obtained in one beat. These two modes of acquisition are a small wedge volume of data and have the advantage of having less respiratory artifact. Adjustments of gain, TGC, compress or as generally referred as \"thresholding\" in 3D terms, are performed on a narrow-angled mode. A zoom mode of acquisition is preferably used for valvular or smaller structures. Ventricular function or atrial chambers need a larger volume scan, so a full-volume mode is chosen. This can be either a four beat acquisition or if higher frame rates are needed a seven beat acquisition which can encompass the entire ventricle\n\nFig. 11.3\n\nDensity settings for transthoracic RT3DE determine the volume resolution and size\n\nFig. 11.4\n\nCut-planes. After 3D volume is acquired, cropping planes are applied to demonstrate certain pathology. There are three cropping tools: (1) auto crop, (2) box crop, and (3) plane crop. Auto crop is useful to automatically demonstrate 50% of a full-volume scan. This enables the operator to ensure that thresholding was sufficient during acquisition. The box crop tool allows six planes to be used to crop the volume acquired in a perpendicular fashion whereas, a plane crop aids the operator to demonstrate abnormalities from any direction\n\nFig. 11.5\n\n3D Display. (1) Volume-rendering, (2) surface-rendering, (3) wire-frame, and (4) 2D tomographic slices\n\nFig. 11.6\n\n3D Orientation is an important aspect of three-dimensional imaging. Imaging from a left atrial and left ventricular perspective, the mitral valve is displayed with the aortic valve at about 12 o'clock similar to a surgical view\n\nFig. 11.7\n\nThese are examples of a normal mitral valve, aortic, and pulmonic valve obtained from a parasternal window. The first image on the left is all narrow-angled acquisitions. A zoom mode acquisition is displayed in the center and right panels\n\nFig. 11.8\n\nExamples of a normal tricuspid valve on top. Imaging of the tricuspid valve is only partially viewed from a parasternal window, so the preferred window to obtain the entire tricuspid valve and annulus is from an apical approach. The first image is a narrow-angled acquisition of part of the right ventricle. A subsequent zoom mode acquisition was obtained to view the tricuspid valve from the right ventricle and the right atrium. The right ventricle is also only partially viewed from a parasternal window; hence similarly to the tricuspid valve the entire right ventricle is obtained from an apical approach. The first image (RV 4CH) is a narrow-angle acquisition of the right ventricle from an apical 4-chamber view. From a full-volume right ventricular data set, several cut planes can be applied to obtain: (1) RV inflow, (2) RV coronal, and (3) RVOT short-axis. RV 4CH, right ventricle 4-chamber; RVOT, right ventricular outflow; a, anterior leaflet; p, posterior leaflet; s, septal leaflet\n\nFig. 11.9\n\nThe interatrial septum (IAS) and interventricular septum (IVS) are both acquired from an apical window. On the left is a narrow-angle acquisition of a left ventricular 4-chamber view. A zoom mode of acquisition is chosen to obtain the IAS and IVS. Both structures can be viewed from the left or right sided chambers\n\nFig. 11.10\n\nThe left ventricle is acquired using a full-volume mode of acquisition. From this pyramidal volume, many cut-planes can be applied to view different walls of the ventricle (top row). Using a box crop, the operator can view the lateral, septal, posterior, and anterior walls. Using the same method, a short-axis plane can be utilized to obtain multiple views of the left ventricle as seen on the bottom panel\n\nFig. 11.11\n\nA fully sampled 3D matrix transesophageal echo (3DMTEE). The image shows routine two-dimensional echo in the top and bottom panels performed on a patient with bileaflet mitral valve prolapse and severe eccentric mitral regurgitation (bottom panel) at 0\u00b0, 60\u00b0, and 120\u00b0. Using a zoom mode, the mitral valve is displayed from a left atrial view in systole (Panel A) and diastole (Panel B). In systole, all three segments of the posterior and corresponding anterior segments are prolapsing. The arrows designate the location of the posterior leaflet indentations demarcating the separation of P1, P2, and P3 which are better seen in diastole\n\nFig. 11.12\n\nIntraoperative evaluation of this same patient in Fig. 11.11 was performed post-repair. Routine 2D imaging was performed at 0\u00b0, 60\u00b0, and 120\u00b0 with and without color. Post-repair there was not any residual mitral regurgitation. Using a zoom mode, the mitral valve is displayed from a left atrial view in systole (Panel A) and diastole (Panel B). In systole, all three segments of the posterior and corresponding anterior segments appear well opposed with a flexible mitral ring. Gore-Tex chords were placed to repair this valve without any resection performed. These chords are not readily seen and in diastole the demarcation of the posterior leaflet indentations can still be appreciated\n\nFig. 11.13\n\nIn the two top panels a long-axis and short-axis of the aortic valve are demonstrated (a and b). There is moderate aortic sclerosis seen on the aortic leaflets as also viewed on a three-dimensional image of the valve from an aortic perspective (bottom panel)\n\nFig. 11.14\n\nExample of a patient with a secundum atrial septal defect demonstrated using simultaneous biplane 2D imaging, which was performed during closure of this defect. The diameter of the ASD measured in 2D was 3.04 and 2.93 cm with sufficient rim to place a device. Three-dimensional echo imaging allows en-face visual assessment of this ASD from a left atrial perspective (bottom). A wire is seen crossing the ASD in 2D as well as 3D\n\n  * Within 50 years of its inception by Edler and Hertz, advancement in transducer and software technology has given birth to fully sampled matrix array transducers, which not only allows traditional two-dimensional echocardiography (2DE) but also has the capability of simultaneous biplane imaging and volumetric three-dimensional imaging.\n\n  * Real-time 3D echocardiography (RT3DE) is truly \"real-time\" when using narrow angled or zoom mode and near \"real-time\" with wide-angled scanning.\n\n  * RT3DE enhances the ability in diagnosis of valvular heart disease by allowing precise imaging planes which can be aligned perpendicular to the valve plane, placed at the tips of the valve leaflets and thus producing a perfect en-face view of the valve orifice.\n\n    * In the assessment of mitral stenosis, three-dimensional echo results in accurate, reliable, and reproducible measurements of mitral valve area compared to conventional 2DE methods.1 \u2013 4\n\n    * Prolapsed or flail segments, valvular dehiscence, and perforation can be identified from a left atrial orientation simulating a \"surgeon's view.\"\n\n    * RT3DE imaging using matrix array probe in patients with good acoustic windows is feasible 83% of the time with adequate visualization of both anterior and posterior mitral leaflets.\n\n    * The anterior mitral valve is best seen from a ventricular perspective regardless of acoustic window, the posterior leaflet from parasternal window, and both commissures well seen from a parasternal or apical window.5\n\n    * RT3DE has also enhanced our understanding of ischemic mitral regurgitation, by imaging papillary muscle displacement.6,7\n\n  * RT3DE is accurate, reliable, and reproducible with less inter- and intra-observer variability in the assessment of left ventricular function and mass, using prior 3DE methods of acquisition and even more recent RT3DE technology.7 - 19 In addition to global left ventricular function and volumes, regional volumes are obtained, which allow quantitation of left ventricular dyssynchrony.20 - 23\n\n  * The development of a fully sampled matrix RT3D transesophageal probe was made possible due to higher density electronics and micro-beam forming architecture within the probe.\n\n  * Instantaneous 3D imaging of the valves and ventricle readily provide information on valvular pathology for surgical planning, and can help assess the results of mitral valve repair.23,24 RT3DE also plays a role in interventional procedures such as balloon mitral valvuloplasty, ASD and left atrial appendage device closure.25 - 27\n\n  * Three-dimensional echocardiography has evolved from a specialized research tool for a highly selected group of researchers that was obscure to the clinician due to cumbersome acquisition, lengthy processing, and off-line analysis. However, RT3DE now is a viable clinical tool mainly attributed to shorter acquisition time and ease of use, which is accommodated by a matrix array transducer and online visualization. It will certainly be a must have tool in most echo labs in the years to come.\n\nReferences\n\n?1.\n\nZamorano J, Perez d I, Sugeng L, et al. Non-invasive assessment of mitral valve area during percutaneous balloon mitral valvuloplasty: role of real-time 3D echocardiography. Eur Heart J. 2004;25(23):2086-2091.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?2.\n\nZamorano J, Cordeiro P, Sugeng L, et al. Real-time three-dimensional echocardiography for rheumatic mitral valve stenosis evaluation: an accurate and novel approach. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2004;43(11):2091-2096.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?3.\n\nSugeng L, Weinert L, Lammertin G, et al. Accuracy of mitral valve area measurements using transthoracic rapid freehand 3-dimensional scanning: comparison with noninvasive and invasive methods. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2003;16(12):1292-1300.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?4.\n\nBinder TM, Rosenhek R, Porenta G, Maurer G, Baumgartner H. Improved assessment of mitral valve stenosis by volumetric real-time three-dimensional echocardiography. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2000;36(4):1355-1361.PubMedCrossRef00852-4)\n\n?5.\n\nSugeng L, Coon P, Weinert L, et al. Use of real-time 3-dimensional transthoracic echocardiography in the evaluation of mitral valve disease. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2006;19(4):413-421.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?6.\n\nKwan J, Shiota T, Agler DA, et al. Geometric differences of the mitral apparatus between ischemic and dilated cardiomyopathy with significant mitral regurgitation: real-time three-dimensional echocardiography study. Circulation. 2003;107(8):1135-1140.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?7.\n\nWatanabe N, Ogasawara Y, Yamaura Y, et al. Geometric differences of the mitral valve tenting between anterior and inferior myocardial infarction with significant ischemic mitral regurgitation: quantitation by novel software system with transthoracic real-time three-dimensional echocardiography. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2006;19(1):71-75.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?8.\n\nGopal AS, Keller AM, Rigling R, King DL Jr, King DL. Left ventricular volume and endocardial surface area by three-dimensional echocardiography: comparison with two-dimensional echocardiography and nuclear magnetic resonance imaging in normal subjects. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1993;22(1):258-270.PubMedCrossRef90842-O)\n\n?9.\n\nGopal AS, Keller AM, Shen Z, et al. Three-dimensional echocardiography: in vitro and in vivo validation of left ventricular mass and comparison with conventional echocardiographic methods. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1994;24(2):504-513.PubMedCrossRef90310-7)\n\n10.\n\nGopal AS, Schnellbaecher MJ, Shen Z, Boxt LM, Katz J, King DL. Freehand three-dimensional echocardiography for determination of left ventricular volume and mass in patients with abnormal ventricles: comparison with magnetic resonance imaging. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 1997;10(8):853-861.PubMedCrossRef70045-2)\n\n11.\n\nJacobs LD, Salgo IS, Goonewardena S, et al. Rapid online quantification of left ventricular volume from real-time three-dimensional echocardiographic data. Eur Heart J. 2006;27(4):460-468.PubMedCrossRef\n\n12.\n\nJenkins C, Bricknell K, Hanekom L, Marwick TH. Reproducibility and accuracy of echocardiographic measurements of left ventricular parameters using real-time three-dimensional echocardiography. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2004;44(4):878-886.PubMedCrossRef\n\n13.\n\nKing DL, Harrison MR, King DL Jr, Gopal AS, Martin RP, DeMaria AN. Improved reproducibility of left atrial and left ventricular measurements by guided three-dimensional echocardiography. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1992;20(5):1238-1245.PubMedCrossRef90383-X)\n\n14.\n\nKing DL, Gapal AS. Three-dimensional echocardiography: use of additional spatial data for measuring left ventricular mass. Mayo Clin Proc. 1994;69(3):293-295.PubMedCrossRef61073-8)\n\n15.\n\nKuhl HP, Franke A, Merx M, Hoffmann R, Puschmann D, Hanrath P. Rapid quantification of left ventricular function and mass using transoesophageal three-dimensional echocardiography: validation of a method that uses long-axis cutplanes. Eur J Echocardiogr. 2000;1(3):213-221.PubMedCrossRef\n\n16.\n\nKuhl HP, Schreckenberg M, Rulands D, et al. High-resolution transthoracic real-time three-dimensional echocardiography: quantitation of cardiac volumes and function using semi-automatic border detection and comparison with cardiac magnetic resonance imaging. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2004;43(11):2083-2090.PubMedCrossRef\n\n17.\n\nMaehle J, Bjoernstad K, Aakhus S, Torp HG, Angelsen BA. Three-dimensional echocardiography for quantitative left ventricular wall motion analysis: a method for reconstruction of endocardial surface and evaluation of regional dysfunction. Echocardiography. 1994;11(4):397-408.PubMedCrossRef\n\n18.\n\nMor-Avi V, Sugeng L, Weinert L, et al. Fast measurement of left ventricular mass with real-time three-dimensional echocardiography: comparison with magnetic resonance imaging. Circulation. 2004;110(13):1814-1818.PubMedCrossRef\n\n19.\n\nSapin PM, Schroder KM, Gopal AS, Smith MD, DeMaria AN, King DL. Comparison of two- and three-dimensional echocardiography with cineventriculography for measurement of left ventricular volume in patients. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1994;24(4):1054-1063.PubMedCrossRef90869-9)\n\n20.\n\nBacha EA, Zimmerman FJ, Mor-Avi V, et al. Ventricular resynchronization by multisite pacing improves myocardial performance in the postoperative single-ventricle patient. Ann Thorac Surg. 2004;78(5):1678-1683.PubMedCrossRef\n\n21.\n\nKapetanakis S, Cooklin M, Monaghan MJ. Mechanical resynchronisation in biventricular pacing illustrated by real time transthoracic three dimensional echocardiography. Heart. 2004;90(5):482.PubMedCentralPubMedCrossRef\n\n22.\n\nKapetanakis S, Kearney MT, Siva A, Gall N, Cooklin M, Monaghan MJ. Real-time three-dimensional echocardiography: a novel technique to quantify global left ventricular mechanical dyssynchrony. Circulation. 2005;112(7):992-1000.PubMedCrossRef\n\n23.\n\nSugeng L, Shernan SK, Salgo IS, et al. Live 3-dimensional transesophageal echocardiography initial experience using the fully-sampled matrix array probe. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2008;52(6):446-449.PubMedCrossRef\n\n24.\n\nSugeng L, Shernan SK, Weinert L, et al. Real-time three-dimensional transesophageal echocardiography in valve disease: comparison with surgical findings and evaluation of prosthetic valves. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2008;21(12):1347-1354.PubMedCrossRef\n\n25.\n\nLodato JA, Cao QL, Weinert L, et al. Feasibility of real-time three-dimensional transesophageal echocardiography for guidance of percutaneous atrial septal defect closure. Eur J Echocardiogr. 2009;10(4):543-548.PubMedCrossRef\n\n26.\n\nShah SJ, Bardo DM, Sugeng L, et al. Real-time three-dimensional transesophageal echocardiography of the left atrial appendage: initial experience in the clinical setting. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2008;21(12):1362-1368.PubMedCrossRef\n\n27.\n\nMessika-Zeitoun D, Brochet E, Holmin C, et al. Three-dimensional evaluation of the mitral valve area and commissural opening before and after percutaneous mitral commissurotomy in patients with mitral stenosis. Eur Heart J. 2007;28(1):72-79.PubMedCrossRef\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_12\n\n# 12. Stress Echocardiography\n\nSebastian Kelle1\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, German Heart Institute Berlin, Berlin, Germany\n\nSebastian Kelle\n\nEmail: kelle@dhzb.de\n\n## 12.1 Purpose\n\n  * Detection of myocardial ischemia and viability\n\n  * Baseline echo to identify regional LV function\n\n  * Wall motion abnormalities (WMA) are one of the earliest signs of myocardial ischemia during stress\n\n  * Exercise or pharmacologic stress\n\n  * Dobutamine is the preferred pharmacological stress agent for the detection of inducible WMA\n\n## 12.2 Indications\n\n  * Inconclusive exercise test or inability to exercise\n\n  * Suspected coronary artery disease\n\n  * Assessment of ischemia in patients with known CAD\n\n  * Patients post revascularization and atypical chest pain\n\n  * Assessing extent of ischemia\n\n  * Guidance for intervention (PCI or CABG)\n\n  * Assessment of viability\n\n  * Preoperative risk assessment\n\n  * Documenting exercise capacity\n\n  * Risk stratification and prognosis\n\n  * Assessment of response to treatment\n\n  * Assessment of low gradient aortic stenosis or mitral valve stenosis\n\n  * Dyspnea of possible cardiac origin\n\n## 12.3 Contraindications\n\n  * Unstable angina pectoris\n\n  * Acute myocardial infarction (within 2 days)\n\n  * Uncontrolled arrhythmias causing symptoms of hemodynamic compromise\n\n  * Symptomatic severe aortic stenosis\n\n  * Uncontrolled symptomatic heart failure\n\n  * Active endocarditis or acute myocarditis or pericarditis\n\n  * Acute aortic dissection or aortic aneurysm\n\n  * Acute pulmonary or systemic embolism\n\n  * Acute noncardiac disorders that may affect exercise performance or may be aggravated by exercise\n\n  * Severe hypertension\n\n  * Hemodynamically significant left ventricular outflow tract obstruction\n\n  * Known HOCM\n\n  * Hypokalemia\n\n## 12.4 Dobutamine\n\n  * Given in incremental doses starting with 5\u201310 ?g\/kg\/min and increasing at 10, 20, 30 and 40 ?g\/kg\/min to simulate exercise\n\n  * Low-dose stages (up to 20 ?g\/kg\/min) viability and ischemia assessment in segments with WMA at rest\n\n  * Half life 2 min\/steady state 10 min\n\n  * Positive inotropy\n\n    * Stimulates LV myocardial function\n\n    * Recruits hibernating myocardium\n\n  * Positive chronotropy\n\n    * Increases heart rate\n\n    * Increases oxygen consumption\n\n    * Induces ischemia\n\n## 12.5 Contraindications for Dobutamine\/Atropine\n\n1.\n\nSevere arterial hypertension (>220\/120 mmHg)\n\n2.\n\nBP ?< ?90 mmHg systolic\n\n3.\n\nUnstable angina pectoris\n\n4.\n\nAcute myocardial infarction\n\n5.\n\nSecond or third degree AV Block or sick-sinus-syndrome (no pacemaker)\n\n6.\n\nSevere aortic stenosis (AVA ?< ?1 cm2)\n\n7.\n\nHOCM\n\n8.\n\nAcute Perimyocarditis or Endocarditis\n\n9.\n\nGlaucoma\n\n## 12.6 Side Effects\n\n  * Palpitations, nausea, headache, chills, urinary urgency, anxiety\n\n  * Angina, hypotension, cardiac arrhythmias\n\n  * Premature atrial or ventricular contractions \u2013 4%\n\n  * Ventricular fibrillation or myocardial infarction: 1\/2,000\n\n## 12.7 Monitoring Requirements\n\n1.\n\nHeart rate and rhythm: continuously\n\n2.\n\nBlood pressure: every 3 min\n\n3.\n\nSymptoms: continuously\n\n4.\n\nWall-motion-abnormalities: every dose increment\n\n5.\n\nImaging ?< ?3 min\n\n6.\n\nCover all segments\n\n7.\n\nST-Segment changes\n\n## 12.8 Visual Assessment of Left Ventricular WMA, the Standard Scoring System is Applied Per Myocardial Segment\n\nScoring system\n\n1, normokinesis\n\n2, hypokinesis\n\n3, akinesis\n\n4, dyskinesis\n\n5, aneurysmal\n\n## 12.9 Performance\n\nPatient instructions:\n\nNo ?-blockers and nitrates 24 h prior to the examination\n\n  * Optimal ECG\n\n  * Select optimal windows (whole window for left ventricle)\n\n  * Use tissue harmonic imaging\n\n  * Highest frame rate\n\n  * Continuous monitoring\n\n  * Cine-loops at baseline, low- and high-dose\n\n  * Record several cycles\n\n  * Use intravenous contrast agents when two or more segments are not well visualized\n\n## 12.10 Termination Criteria\n\n  * Submaximal heart rate reached ([220 \u2013 age] \u00d7 0.85)\n\n  * Maximum dose reached (40 ?g\/kg\/min dobutamine ?+ ?2 mg atropine)\n\n  * Systolic RR decrease ?> ?20 mmHg below the baseline level or decrease ?> ?40 mmHg from a previous level\n\n  * RR increase ?> ?240\/120 mmHg\n\n  * Intolerable symptoms (chest pain, nausea)\n\n  * New or worsening WMA in N ?? ?2 adjacent LV segments\n\n  * ST depression ?> ?3 mm\n\n  * Symptomatic or complex cardiac tachycardia\n\nIschemia is defined as a new WMA or a biphasic response.\n\n## 12.11 Myocardial Viability\n\n1.\n\nMyocardial stunning: result of acute ischemic insult leading to contractile dysfunction despite adequate reperfusion\n\n2.\n\nHibernating myocardium: reversible left ventricular dysfunction due to chronic coronary artery disease that improves after revascularization\n\n## 12.12 Interpretation\n\n  * Report \u2013 description of\n\n    * Hemodynamics\n\n    * ECG changes\n\n    * Clinical symptoms\n\n    * Reached maximum heart rate\n\n    * Stress level\n\n    * Wall motion score at rest and stress\n\n  * Baseline\n\n    * Left ventricular cardiac chamber volumes, ejection fraction, mass and regional wall motion, valves, aortic root\n\n  * Stress\n\n    * New wall motion abnormalities during stress in segments with normal wall motion at rest or worsening or biphasic response in segments with wall motion abnormality at rest\n\n    * Extent of ischemia\n\n    * Assessment of ischemic mitral valve regurgitation\n\n    * Assessment of aortic gradient\n\nFig. 12.1\n\nExercise stress echocardiogram images. Apical four-chamber view showing rest images (top row) and normal left ventricular wall motion. During stress imaging (bottom row) there is an anteroapical wall motion abnormality indicating exercise-induced ischemia in the distribution of the left anterior descending coronary artery.\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_13\n\n# 13. Mechanical Dyssynchrony Assessment\n\nGabe B. Bleeker1  , Nico R. Van de Veire, Theodore P. Abraham, Eduard R. Holman and Jeroen J. Bax\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Leiden University Medical Center, Leiden, The Netherlands\n\nGabe B. Bleeker\n\nEmail: g.b.bleeker@lumc.nl\n\nFig. 13.1\n\nCurrently, the resynchronization of left ventricular (LV) dyssynchrony (present before pacemaker implantation) is considered to be the key mechanism of response following cardiac resynchronization therapy (CRT). Identification of LV dyssynchrony is, therefore, needed to select patients with high likelihood of response to CRT. In the current guidelines, a widened QRS complex (>120 ms) is used as a marker of LV dyssynchrony. Recent data, however, have indicated that QRS duration is a poor marker of LV dyssynchrony, with poor predictive value for response to CRT. Since this observation, several echocardiographic techniques, such as color-coded tissue Doppler imaging (TDI), have been evaluated for the ability to directly quantify LV dyssynchrony. (a) Results of a recent study illustrating the lack of correlation between LV dyssynchrony (expressed as the septal-to-lateral delay) and QRS duration in 90 heart failure patients with LV ejection fraction <35% and NYHA class III-IV heart failure (r ?= ?0.26, P ?= ?NS) (Reprinted with permission from Ref.1). (b) Example of a heart failure patient with a narrow QRS complex (110 ms) and a delay of 85 ms between the peak systolic velocity (PSV) of the septum and lateral wall, indicating the presence of LV dyssynchrony (arrows indicate peak systolic velocities, AVO aortic valve opening, AVC aortic valve closure). (c) Example of a patient with a wide QRS complex (160 ms) without a delay in peak systolic velocity between the septum and the lateral wall, indicating the absence of LV dyssynchrony (arrows indicate peak systolic velocities, AVO aortic valve opening, AVC aortic valve closure)\n\nFig. 13.2\n\nThe first step in LV dyssynchrony measurement from TDI is to define the ejection period. Using the \"event timing function,\" the timing of aortic valve opening (AVO) and closure (AVC) can be defined from the pulsed-wave Doppler recording in the LV outflow tract (a). After marking the AVO and AVC in the pulsed-wave Doppler recording, the timing of the ejection phase is automatically displayed in the TDI-analysis window (b)\n\nFig. 13.3\n\n(a) Example of a TDI curve derived from the basal septum in a normal individual in the 4-chamber view. The sample volume is placed in the region of interest (here the basal septum), and a TDI curve will be automatically derived indicating the peak systolic velocity (PSV), which is within the ejection phase between aortic valve opening (AVO) and closure, (AVC), and diastolic parameters (E? and A?). Do not confuse the peak of isovolumic contraction (IVC) with the peak systolic velocity (PSV). (b) Example of a TDI curve derived from the basal lateral wall in a normal individual (4-chamber view, for explanation see Fig. 13.3a). (c) Example of a TDI curve derived from the basal inferior wall in a normal individual (2-chamber view, for explanation see Fig. 13.3a). (d) Example of a TDI curve derived from the basal anterior wall in a normal individual (2-chamber view, for explanation see Fig. 13.3a). (e) LV dyssynchrony can be calculated as the delay in time-to-peak systolic velocity between the basal septum and the lateral wall (referred to as septal-to-lateral delay (2-segmental model, cutoff value 60 ms6). Example of a normal individual without a delay in peak systolic velocity, indicating absence of LV dyssynchrony. (e, f) Another described method to quantify LV dyssynchrony by measuring the time-to-maximum delay between the peak systolic velocities among the four basal LV walls (septum, lateral, inferior, and anterior walls (4-segmental model, derived from Fig. 13.3a\u2013d) (most frequently dyssynchrony is observed between the septum and lateral wall, cutoff value 65 ms7). When the time-to-peak systolic velocity is measured in multiple views, the beginning of the QRS complex can be used as a reference point\n\nFig. 13.4\n\nROC curve analysis to determine the predictive value for response following CRT using the 4-segmental LV dyssynchrony model (maximum delay among four basal segments), demonstrating a sensitivity and specificity of 80% to predict clinical response (defined as improvement in NYHA class ??1 score and improvement ??25% in 6-min walking distance) at a cutoff level of 65 ms for LV dyssynchrony. In addition, this approach yielded a sensitivity and specificity of 92% to predict reverse LV remodeling after CRT (defined as improvement in LV end-systolic volume ??15%) at a cutoff level of 65 ms for LV dyssynchrony. Reprinted with permission from reference8\n\nFig. 13.5\n\nIllustration of the 12-segmental model for LV dyssynchrony measurement (Yu-index8). The time-to-peak systolic velocities during the ejection phase in each view are measured (by using the beginning of the QRS complex as a reference point). The myocardial velocity curves are derived from the basal and mid parts of the following LV segments: septum and lateral wall (4-chamber view, a), inferior and anterior wall (2-chamber view, b) and antero-septal and posterior wall (3-chamber view, c). LV dyssynchrony is defined as the standard deviation of the time-to-peak systolic velocity for all 12 segments (cutoff value 32 ms8)\n\nFig. 13.6\n\nMeasurement of LV dyssynchrony using the 4-segmental model. Example of a patient without a delay in time-to-peak systolic velocity between the septum and the lateral wall (4-chamber view, a) and the inferior and anterior wall (2-chamber view, b), indicating the absence of LV dyssynchrony (Arrows indicate peak systolic velocities, AVO ?aortic valve opening, AVC ?aortic valve closure)\n\nFig. 13.7\n\nMeasurement of LV dyssynchrony using the 4-segmental model. Example of a patient with substantial LV dyssynchrony. In the 4-chamber view, a delay in time-to-peak systolic velocity of 120 ms is observed between the septum and the lateral wall (a) and a delay of 60 ms is present between the inferior and anterior walls (b). The maximum delay among the four segments is well above the cutoff value of 65 ms, indicating the presence of LV dyssynchrony (Arrows indicate peak systolic velocities, AVO aortic valve opening, AVC aortic valve closure)\n\nFig. 13.8\n\nMeasurement of diastolic dyssynchrony within the left ventricle. Example of a patient with a delay of 90 ms between the time to peak E?-wave of the septum and lateral wall. At present, the role of diastolic dyssynchrony in CRT remains to be defined. No cutoff value for diastolic dyssynchrony has been proposed in the literature (Arrows indicate peak E?-wave)\n\nFig. 13.9\n\nMeasurement of interventricular dyssynchrony (dyssynchrony between the left and right ventricles). The first method measures the difference in the pre-ejection times between the pulmonary flow (a, 99 ms) and the aortic flow (b, 137 ms). The difference between both pre-ejection times represents the interventricular dyssynchrony (38 ms in this example, proposed cutoff values range between 40 and 50 ms). Recent studies, however, have now clearly demonstrated that interventricular dyssynchrony is a poor predictor of response after CRT implantation. Another described method for interventricular dyssynchrony calculation is to measure the delay in peak systolic velocity between the LV lateral wall and the right ventricular free wall (c, arrows indicate peak systolic velocities)\n\nTable 13.1\n\nMost commonly used echocardiographic techniques for LV dyssynchrony quantification. All clinically proven parameters of dyssynchrony \u2013 from JACC review\n\nEchocardiographic technique | Parameter | Author\n\n---|---|---\n\nM-mode echocardiography | Difference in systolic inward motion between septum and posterior wall. | Pitzalis et al.2,3\n\nPulsed-wave TDI | Difference in time-to-onset of systolic velocity between septum and lateral wall. | Garrigue et al.4\n\n|\n\n\u2013 Maximum difference in time-to-onset\/peak systolic velocity among 12 basal and mid-LV segments. | Bordachar et al.5\n\n\u2013 Standard deviation in time-to-onset\/peak systolic velocity among 12 basal and mid-LV segments.\n\nColor-coded TDI | Difference in time-to-peak systolic velocity between basal septum and lateral wall (septal-to-lateral delay). | Bax et al.6 (Fig. 13.3)\n\n|\n\nMaximum delay in time-to-peak systolic velocity among four basal segments. | Bax et al.7 (Figs. 13.3 and 13.4)\n\n|\n\nStandard deviation of the time-to-peak systolic velocity among 12 basal and mid-LV segments (Yu-index). | Yu et al.8 (Fig. 13.5)\n\nTissue synchronization imaging | \u2013 Qualitative assessment of LV dyssynchrony based on color maps. | Yu et al.9\n\n\u2013 Standard deviation of the time-to-peak systolic velocity among 12 basal and mid-LV segments.\n\nStrain (rate) imaging (derived from TDI) | Difference in time-to-peak radial strain between septum and posterior wall. | Dohi et al.10\n\n|\n\nDifference in time-to-peak strain between septum and lateral wall. | Popovic et al.11\n\n2D strain (speckle tracking) | Difference in time-to-peak radial strain between septum and posterior wall. | Suffoletto et al.12\n\nReal-time 3D echocardiography | Standard deviation of time-to-minimal regional volume among 16 segments (systolic dyssynchrony index). | Kapetanakis et al.13\n\nTDI tissue Doppler imaging, LV left ventricular\n\nTable based on Ref.14\n\nTable 13.2\n\nAlgorithm for LV dyssynchrony measurement using color-coded TDI. Focus on the criteria you use clinically \u2013 may be 2\u20133 major ones for example, septal to lateral wall delay; maximum delay and Yu index\n\nStep1:\n\n---\n\nDefine the ejection phase by measuring the timing of the aortic valve opening and closure from the pulsed-wave Doppler signal in the LV outflow tract (Fig. 13.2).\n\nStep 2:\n\nUse the TDI curves to measure the time difference between the beginning of the QRS complex and the peak systolic velocity\n\nIn the following LV segments (Fig. 13.3):\n\n\u2013?Basal septum and basal lateral wall (apical 4-chamber view)\n\n\u2013?Basal anterior and basal inferior wall (apical 2-chamber view)\n\nAdditional measurements for the 12-segmental model (Yu-index, Fig. 13.5)\n\n\u2013?Mid-septal and mid-lateral wall (apical 4-chamber view)\n\n\u2013?Mid-anterior and mid-inferior wall (apical 2-chamber view)\n\n\u2013?Basal and mid-antero-septum and basal and mid-posterior LV wall (apical 3-chamber view)\n\nStep 3:\n\nThe measurements from step 2 can be used to calculate the following parameters for LV dyssynchrony:\n\n\u2013?Time-delay between the peak systolic velocity of the basal septum and lateral wall (septal-to-lateral delay, cutoff value 60 ms6).\n\n\u2013?Maximum time delay among four basal segments (septum, lateral, inferior and anterior LV segments, cutoff value 65 ms7).\n\n\u2013?Standard deviation of the time-to-peak systolic velocity among 12 LV segments (Yu-index, cutoff value 32 ms8).\n\nTDI tissue Doppler imaging, LV left ventricular\n\nTable 13.3\n\nPitfalls in LV dyssynchrony measurement using color-coded TDI. Common pitfalls with dyssynchrony analysis and how to overcome them Suggested references: up to five general references where they can go for more details\n\nPitfalls | Solution\n\n---|---\n\nWhich peak should be measured? | The measurement of the peaks should be limited to the ejection phase. Use the event timing function, which marks the opening and closure of the aortic valve (Fig. 13.2).\n\n|\n\nIn the event of multiple positive peaks in the ejection phase, take the peak with the highest systolic velocity.\n\n|\n\nDo not confuse the peak systolic velocity with the peak of isovolumetric contraction.\n\nArrhythmias | Record the TDI-images during at least three consecutive beats in normal sinus rhythm. Avoid measurement of LV dyssynchrony during atrial and ventricular extrasystoles.\n\n|\n\nDuring persistent atrial arrhythmias, LV dyssynchrony should be calculated within the same heartbeat. In addition, the measurements should be repeated\/confirmed within other heartbeats.\n\nNoisy signals | Ensure a frame rate of at least 100 frames per second (the higher the better). A high frame rate can be achieved by narrowing the apical 4-, 2- and 3-chamber TDI recordings down to the left ventricle (i.e., excluding the right ventricle and the atria).\n\nTDI tissue Doppler imaging, LV left ventricular\n\nReferences\n\n?1.\n\nBleeker GB, Schalij MJ, Molhoek SG, et al. Relationship between QRS duration and left ventricular dyssynchrony in patients with end-stage heart failure. J Cardiovasc Electrophysiol. 2004;15:544-549.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?2.\n\nPitzalis MV, Iacoviello, Romito R, et al. Cardiac resynchronization therapy tailored by echocardiographic evaluation of ventricular asynchrony. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2002;40:1615-1622.PubMedCrossRef02337-9)\n\n?3.\n\nPitzalis MV, Iacoviello, Romito R, et al. Ventricular asynchrony predicts a better outcome in patients with chronic heart failure receiving cardiac resynchronization therapy. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2005;45:65-69.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?4.\n\nGarrigue S, Reuter S, Labeque JN, et al. Usefullness of biventricular pacing in patients with congestive heart failure and right bundle branch block. Am J Cardiol. 2001;88:1436-1441.PubMedCrossRef02131-2)\n\n?5.\n\nBordachar P, Lafitte S, Reuter S, et al. Echocardiographic parameters of ventricular dyssynchrony validation in patients with heart failure using sequential biventricular pacing. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2004;44:2154-2165.CrossRef\n\n?6.\n\nBax JJ, Marwick TH, Molhoek SG, et al. Left ventricular dyssynchrony predicts benefit of cardiac resynchronization therapy in patients with end-stage heart failure before pacemaker implantation. Am J Cardiol. 2003;92:1238-1240.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?7.\n\nBax JJ, Bleeker GB, Marwick TH, et al. Left ventricular dyssynchrony predicts response and prognosis after cardiac resynchronization therapy. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2004;44:1834-1840.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?8.\n\nYu CM, Chau E, Sanderson JE, et al. Tissue Doppler echocardiographic evidence of reverse remodeling and improved synchronicity by simultaneously delaying regional contraction after biventricular pacing therapy in heart failure. Circulation. 2002;105:438-445.PubMedCrossRef\n\n?9.\n\nYu CM, Zhang Q, Fung JW, et al. A novel tool to assess systolic asynchrony and identify responders of cardiac resynchronization therapy by tissue synchronization imaging. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2005;45:677-684.PubMedCrossRef\n\n10.\n\nDohi K, Suffoletto MS, Schwartzman D, et al. Utility of Echocardiographic radial strain imaging to quantify left ventricular dyssynchrony and predict acute response to cardiac resynchronization therapy. Am J Cardiol. 2005;96:112-116.PubMedCrossRef\n\n11.\n\nPopovic ZB, Grimm RA, Perlic G, et al. Noninvasive assessment of cardiac resynchronization therapy for congestive heart failure using myocardial strain and left ventricular peak power as parameters of myocardial synchrony and function. J Cardiovasc Electrophysiol. 2002;13:1203-1208.PubMedCrossRef\n\n12.\n\nSuffoletto MS, Dohi K, Cannesson M, et al. Novel speckle-tracking radial strain from routine black-and-white echocardiographic images to quantify dyssynchrony and predict response to cardiac resynchronization therapy. Circulation. 2006;113:960-968.PubMedCrossRef\n\n13.\n\nKapetanakis S, Kearney MT, Siva A, et al. Real-time Three-dimensional echocardiography. Circulation. 2005;112:992-1000.PubMedCrossRef\n\n14.\n\nBax JJ, Abraham T, Barold SS, et al. Cardiac resynchronization therapy. Part 1-Issues before device implantation. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2005;46:2153-2167.PubMedCrossRef\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_14\n\n# 14. Post Cardiac Resynchronization Therapy (CRT) Optimization Protocol\n\nHsin-Yueh Liang1\n\n(1)\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Department of Medicine, China Medical University Hospital, Taichung, Taiwan\n\nHsin-Yueh Liang\n\nEmail: liangsy2@gmail.com\n\n## 14.1 Cardiac Optimization Protocol\n\n### 14.1.1 Scheduling Requirements\n\n1.\n\n2-h slot\n\n2.\n\nSonographer\n\n3.\n\nProgrammer and pacemaker specialist\n\n4.\n\nA physician who is familiar with echo and pacemaker\n\n### 14.1.2 Protocol\n\n1.\n\nInterrogate pacemaker and print out baseline settings, read low rate, hysteresis rate, max tracking rate, AV\/PV delay, and VV offset\n\n2.\n\nDetermine percentage of A sense V sense (ASVS), A sense V pace (ASVP), A pace V sense (APVS), and A pace V pace (APVP) from histogram\n\n3.\n\nSet VV offset as zero (simultaneous bi-ventricular pacing)\n\n#### 14.1.2.1 PV Optimization\n\nSet pacer to the intrinsic rhythm (ASVS), make sure wide QRS from surface ECG on the echo machine and intracardiac electrogram (IEG) on the pacer programmer, usually the intrinsic PV delay is longer than 200 ms\n\nA.\n\nWait for at least 30 s at each setting before start of echo record\n\nB.\n\nPW Doppler on MV at mitral annulus, measure VTI of A wave, and total mitral inflow (Fig. 14.1).\n\nFig. 14.1\n\nVTI of A wave (left) and mitral inflow (right)\n\nC.\n\nPW Doppler at LVOT, measure VTI of LVOT (Fig. 14.2)\n\nFig. 14.2\n\nVTI of LVOT\n\nD.\n\nDecrease PV delay until A sense V pace (ASVP), make sure narrow QRS from the surface ECG and IEG\n\nE.\n\nRepeat this sequence of imagines (point A to C)\n\nF.\n\nDecrease PV delay by 30 ms intervals and repeat this sequence of imagines (point A to C)\n\nG.\n\nRepeat point F until there is mitral A wave truncation (Fig. 14.3).\n\nFig. 14.3\n\nA wave truncation (arrow)\n\nH.\n\nThe optimal PV delay is the setting, which yields maximal LVOT VTI with narrow QRS complex\n\nI.\n\nDetermine the optimal PV delay by VTI of mitral inflow in case maximal LVOT VTI is present at two different settings\n\n#### 14.1.2.2 AV Optimization\n\nSet pacer from APVS (pace at a rate higher than the intrinsic cardiac beats, about 10 beat\/min), make sure wide QRS from the surface ECG and IEG\n\nA.\n\nWait for at least 30 s at each setting before start of echo record\n\nB.\n\nPW Doppler on MV at mitral annulus, measure VTI of A wave and total mitral inflow\n\nC.\n\nPW Doppler at LVOT, measure VTI of LVOT\n\nD.\n\nDecrease AV delay until A pace V pace (APVP), make sure narrow QRS from the surface ECG and IEG\n\nE.\n\nRepeat this sequence of imagines (point A to C)\n\nF.\n\nDecrease AV delay by 30 ms intervals and repeat this sequence of imagines (point A to C)\n\nG.\n\nRepeat point F until there is mitral A wave truncation\n\nH.\n\nThe optimal AV delay is the setting, which yields maximal LVOT VTI with narrow QRS complex\n\nI.\n\nDetermine the optimal AV delay by VTI of mitral inflow in case maximal LVOT VTI is present at two different settings\n\n#### 14.1.2.3 VV Optimization\n\nA.\n\nSet PV delay as the optimal one obtained from the procedure above\n\nB.\n\nChange VV settings as follows and obtain images (point A to C) at each setting\n\ni.\n\nRV pre-excitation by 30 ms\n\nii.\n\nRV pre-excitation by 60 ms\n\niii.\n\nLV pre-excitation by 30 ms\n\niv.\n\nLV pre-excitation by 60 ms\n\nC.\n\nSet AV delay as the optimal one obtained from the procedure above\n\nD.\n\nChange VV settings as follows and obtain images (point A to C) at each setting\n\ni.\n\nRV pre-excitation by 30 ms\n\nii.\n\nRV pre-excitation by 60 ms\n\niii.\n\nLV pre-excitation by 30 ms\n\niv.\n\nLV pre-excitation by 60 ms\n\nE.\n\nThe optimal VV offset (including simultaneous offset) is the setting, which yields maximal LVOT VTI with narrow QRS complex\n\nF.\n\nIf the optimal VV offset at PV delay is different from the one at AV delay, determine the clinically optimal VV offset based on the percentage of ASVP and APVP from the initial interrogation\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_15\n\n# 15. Echocardiographic Assessment of the Right Ventricle\n\nHisham Dokainish1\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Baylor College of Medicine, 6620 Main Street-11A.08, 77030 Houston, TX, USA\n\nHisham Dokainish\n\nEmail: hishamd@bcm.tmc.edu\n\n## 15.1 Introduction\n\n1.\n\nEchocardiography is a commonly used noninvasive modality to assess right ventricular (RV) morphology and function.\n\n2.\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiographic variables include RV size, interventricular septal morphology and motion, and RV function using fractional area change, ejection fraction, and tricuspid annular plane systolic excursion (TAPSE).\n\n3.\n\nConventional Doppler variables include RV stroke volume and cardiac output and pulmonary artery systolic and diastolic pressure using the pulmonic and tricuspid regurgitation signals, respectively.\n\n4.\n\nEmerging echocardiographic techniques to assess RV function include tissue Doppler imaging, speckle-based strain and strain rate imaging, and three-dimensional echocardiography.\n\n5.\n\nA comprehensive echo-Doppler approach to the RV, incorporating many of these variables in concert, can result in an accurate assessment of RV size, function, and hemodynamics.\n\n1.\n\n2D echocardiographic variables in assessing of right ventricular size (Fig. 15.1).\n\nFig. 15.1\n\nIn the top panel, RV diastolic diameter is 3.2 cm and RV systolic diameter is 2.2 cm, consistent with normal RV size In the bottom panel, RV diastolic dimension ?= ?5.4 cm and systolic dimension ?= ?2.6 cm, consistent with moderate to severe RV dilation\n\n  * Most but not all patients with abnormal RV function or significantly elevated pulmonary artery pressures have an enlarged RV.\n\n  * Normal RV diastolic diameter in the apical 4-chamber view is <3.8 cm.\n\n2.\n\nRight ventricular (RV) fractional area change for the assessment of RV function (Fig. 15.2).\n\nFig. 15.2\n\nIn the top panel, RV diastolic area ?= ?27 cm2, RV systolic area ?= ?13 cm2, and FAC ?= ?(27\u201313)\/27 ?= ?52%. In the bottom panel, RV diastolic area ?= ?24 cm2, RV systolic area ?= ?17 cm2, and FAC ?= ?(24\u201317)\/24 ?= ?29%, consistent with mild-to-moderate RV dysfunction. Note should be made that the RV is not dilated in the bottom panel, despite the depressed systolic function\n\n  * Normal values are <32 cm2 for RV diastolic area, <20 cm2 for RV systolic area, and >35% for RV FAC.\n\n3.\n\nRight ventricular (RV) volumes and ejection fraction (EF) (Fig. 15.3).\n\nFig. 15.3\n\nIn the top panel, RV diastolic volume ?= ?130 mL and in the bottom panel, RV systolic volume ?= ?99 mL, giving an RVEF ?= ?(130\u201399)\/130 ?= ?24%, consistent with severe RV dysfunction. RVEF >45% is consistent with normal RV systolic function\n\n  * In patients with severe pulmonary hypertension, echocardiography shows a severely enlarged RV and a small left ventricle (LV) compressed by RV enlargement.\n\n  * The right atrium can be severely enlarged, with the interatrial septum bulging to the left, indicating elevation of RA pressure.\n\n4.\n\nRight ventricular (RV) tricuspid annular plane systolic excursion (TAPSE) (Fig. 15.4).\n\nFig. 15.4\n\nThe top image shows a TAPSE of 2.1 cm in a patient with diabetes but normal RV systolic function. The bottom image shows an abnormal TAPSE of 1.3 cm, consistent with moderate RV dysfunction\n\n  * The image can be viewed by placing an M-mode cursor through the tricuspid annular plane that gives a longitudinal excursion in centimeter \u2013 referred to as TAPSE \u2013 a measure of longitudinal RV systolic function.\n\n  * Normal TAPSE is >1.5 cm, while ?1.5 is associated with RV dysfunction and adverse prognosis since RV disease results in decreased longitudinal RV excursion.\n\n  * The sole use of TAPSE \u2013 or any measure of RV function in isolation \u2013 can result in errors.\n\n  * Many variables of RV performance by echocardiography and Doppler should be used for accurate assessment of RV function.\n\n5.\n\nRight ventricular (RV) eccentricity index (RVEI) (Fig. 15.5).\n\nFig. 15.5\n\nIn the top panel, the longitudinal LV diastolic diameter (D1) ?= ?4.1, while diastolic height ?= ?2.1 cm, and RVEI = 4.1\/2.1 = 1.95. In the bottom panel, longitudinal systolic diameter (D2) = 3.2 cm, systolic height ?= ?1.2 cm, and RVEI =3.2\/1.2 =2.7\n\n  * RV dilates in response to volume overload and pushes the interventricular septum (IVS) toward the left ventricle (LV), compressing the LV.\n\n  * In RV volume overload, the IVS flattens in diastole, and normalizes in systole, as the increase in systolic LV pressure pushes the IVS back toward the RV.\n\n  * The dilation, which is primarily due to RV pressure overload flattens the IVS in both systole and diastole quantified using RVEI, which is the ratio of the LV orthogonal diameters in both diastole and systole.\n\n  * RVEI that remains >1 in both diastole and systole is consistent with pressure overload.\n\n  * High RVEI only confined to diastole, normalizing to ?1 in systole, is consistent with RV volume overload.\n\n6.\n\nComprehensive Doppler assessment of right ventricular function (Fig. 15.6).\n\nFig. 15.6\n\nEchocardiography showed a left ventricular ejection fraction ?= ?34%, and a mildly dilated RV (4.3 cm) which was moderately depressed in function. To calculate RV CO using the RV outflow tract (RVOT) diameter and time velocity integral (TVI), RV cross-sectional area ?= ?(2.6\/2)2 * 3.14 ?= ?5.3 cm2, and RVOT TVI ?= ?8.9 cm, resulting in RV SV ?= ?(5.3 cm2 * 8.9 cm) ?= ?47 mL. Therefore, CO ?= ?47 mL * 95 bpm ?= ?4.47 L\/min, and RV CI = 2.2 L\/min\/m2, indicative of significantly depressed RV function\n\n  * The parameters assessed include Right ventricle (RV) stroke volume (SV), cardiac output (CO), cardiac index (CI), tricuspid regurgitation (TR) velocity, and right atrial pressure (RAP).\n\n  * Normal RV CO is >4.0 L\/min (though this measure is very heart rate-dependent), and normal RV CI is >2.5 L\/min\/m2.\n\n7.\n\nComprehensive Doppler assessment of right ventricular (RV) hemodynamics in a patient with cor pulmonale (Fig. 15.7).\n\nFig. 15.7\n\nComprehensive Doppler assessment of right ventricular (RV) hemodynamics in a patient with cor pulmonale. This 36-year-old woman with primary pulmonary hypertension presented for routine follow-up. On echocardiography, she had a severely enlarged right ventricle (RV) with severely depressed function; the left ventricle (LV) is compressed by the RV. Top left panel shows moderate-to-severe tricuspid regurgitation (TR) due to incomplete leaflet coaptation from RV dilatation. Continuous wave Doppler (top right) shows a dense TR signal with a peak gradient of 62 mmHg. Bottom right panel shows that right atrial pressure is significantly elevated due to a dilated inferior vena cava (>2.0 cm, green arrow), with significant TR causing some reflux into the hepatic veins (white arrow), giving an RAP estimate of 20 mmHg. Therefore, estimated pulmonary artery systolic pressure (PASP) = 62 ?+ ?20 = 82 mmHg. Bottom left panel shows use of the pulmonic regurgitation (PR) signal for estimation of RV end-diastolic pressure (EDP), equivalent to PAEDP in patients without pulmonary outflow tract obstruction. Therefore, estimated PAEDP =24 ?+ ?20 mmHg (RA pressure estimate) ?= ?44 mmHg. Overall, PA pressure can be estimated at 82\/44 mmHg, consistent with severe pulmonary hypertension\n\n8.\n\nDemonstration of right ventricular (RV) systolic dysfunction by tissue Doppler (TD) imaging (Fig. 15.8).\n\nFig. 15.8\n\nDemonstration of right ventricular (RV) systolic dysfunction by tissue Doppler (TD) imaging. This 53-year-old man with atrial fibrillation presented with increasing dyspnea. Echocardiography revealed a severely dilated RV with a diastolic area (top left) of 41 cm2, a systolic area (bottom left) = 24 cm2 and fractional area change ?= ?41%, suggesting normal RV systolic function. However, tissue Doppler (TD) imaging (top right) reveals a systolic annular velocity at the lateral tricuspid annulus = 5.2 cm\/s, consistent with significant RV contractile impairment (Normal TD RV systolic annular velocity is >8 cm\/s using color Doppler-derived TD imaging). Therefore, in the setting of severe TR, although RV FAC is within normal, TD imaging demonstrates evidence of RV systolic dysfunction (see Fig. 15.10)\n\n9.\n\nAdvanced echocardiographic variables in a patient with a normal heart (Fig. 15.9).\n\nFig. 15.9\n\nAdvanced echocardiographic variables in a patient with a normal heart. Tissue Doppler (TD) imaging can be applied to measure the longitudinal velocity of the RV free wall (see Fig. 15.8) to assess function. In this normal subject, the TD systolic annular velocity was 10.1 cm\/s, (normal >8 cm\/s using color-derived TD imaging). Using non-Doppler-based speckle tracking, strain imaging is applied to assess deformation of the RV myocardium. The peak strain in this subject was \u201321% (normal ?< ?\u201316%), while the rate of deformation, strain rate, was \u20131.2 s?1 (normal ?< ?\u20130.9 s?1). These advanced tissue Doppler and speckle-derived strain indices can help identify RV myocardial disease in patients with relatively normal \"conventional\" echocardiographic indices, such as RV fractional area change (see Figs. 15.8 and 15.10)\n\n  * Tissue Doppler (TD) imaging can be applied to measure the longitudinal velocity of the RV free wall to assess function.\n\n  * In normal subjects, the normal TD systolic annular velocity >8 cm\/s using color-derived TD imaging.\n\n  * Using non-Doppler based speckle tracking, strain imaging can be applied to assess deformation of the RV myocardium.\n\n  * The peak strain in normal subject is ?< ?\u201316%, while the rate of deformation, strain rate, is < \u20130.9 s?1.\n\n  * These advanced tissue Doppler and speckle-derived strain indices can help identify RV myocardial disease in patients with relatively normal \"conventional\" echocardiographic indices, such as RV fractional area change\n\n10.\n\nAdvanced right ventricular (RV) echocardiographic variables in a patient with severe tricuspid regurgitation and atrial fibrillation (Fig. 15.10).\n\nFig. 15.10\n\nAdvanced right ventricular (RV) echocardiographic variables in a patient with severe tricuspid regurgitation and atrial fibrillation. This 53-year-old patient (same patient as in Fig. 15.8) underwent further advanced RV quantification. The right ventricle (RV) was moderately to severely dilated (5.3 cm) with RV fractional area change (FAC) = 41% (normal >35%). Tissue Doppler (TD) imaging revealed a systolic annular velocity ?= ?5.2 cm\/s (normal >8 cm\/s using color Doppler-derived TD imaging), indicating depressed systolic longitudinal velocity. Speckle-based strain imaging revealed a peak strain of \u201312% in the RV free wall (normal ?< ?\u201316%), and peak systolic strain rate of ?= ?\u20130.6 s?1 (normal ?< ?\u20130.9%), indicating depressed systolic RV myocardial deformation. Therefore, these TD and speckle-based strain variables point to depressed systolic function in this patient with severe tricuspid regurgitation, despite normal \"conventional\" echocardiographic variables such as FAC\n\n  * Tissue Doppler and speckle-based strain variables can point to depressed systolic function patients with severe tricuspid regurgitation, despite normal \"conventional\" echocardiographic variables such as FAC.\n\n11.\n\nThree-dimensional echocardiography for the assessment of right ventricular (RV) function in a patient with severe primary pulmonary hypertension (Fig. 15.11).\n\nFig. 15.11\n\nThree-dimensional echocardiography for the assessment of right ventricular (RV) function in a patient with severe primary pulmonary hypertension. Full volume acquisition of the heart over six or seven cardiac cycles can produce large volume images of the heart \u2013 which can readily be cropped and rotating in multiple dimensions \u2013 allowing superior morphological and functional diagnosis. The top image depicts the severely dilated RV during diastole, with the tricuspid valve (TV) open (white arrow). The bottom image shows the RV during systole, with the TV closed (yellow arrow), and little change in RV volume compared to diastole, indicative of poor RV systolic function. Note the severely dilated RV and RA compressing the small left ventricle (LV) and left atrium (LA), respectively. The moderator band is also well seen (red arrow)\n\n  * Full volume acquisition of the heart over six or seven cardiac cycles can produce large volume images of the heart, which can readily be cropped, and rotating in multiple dimensions allows superior morphological and functional diagnosis.\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_16\n\n# 16. Aortic Valve Stenosis and Regurgitation\n\nVuyisile T. Nkomo1\n\n(1)\n\nDivision of Cardiovascular Diseases and Internal Medicine, Mayo Clinic, Rochester, MN, USA\n\nVuyisile T. Nkomo\n\nEmail: nkomo.vuyisile@mayo.edu\n\nFig. 16.1a and b\n\nFig. 16.1\n\nMeasurement and calculation of AVA using the continuity equation. (a) Formulas, (AV aortic valve, AVA aortic valve area, LVOT left ventricular outflow tract, A left ventricular outflow tract area, TVI time velocity integral), (b) Example using time velocity integral (TVI)\n\nFig. 16.2a\u2013h\n\nFig. 16.2\n\nComparison of jet profiles from aortic stenosis, mitral regurgitation, and dynamic left ventricular outflow tract obstruction as in hypertrophic obstructive cardiomyopathy. The signal of aortic stenosis (a and b) has a shorter ejection time than that of mitral regurgitation and the mitral regurgitation signal extends beyond ejection and culminates in the mitral inflow signal during onset of diastole (c and d). The duration and peak velocity of aortic stenosis is shorter than that of MR. Dynamic left ventricular outflow tract obstruction may absent at rest (e) and brought on by Valsalva maneuver or amyl nitrite (f and g). Mitral regurgitation is frequently associated with dynamic LVOT obstruction and mitral regurgitation signal may contaminate the signal from LVOT (h). The velocity from mitral regurgitation will always be higher than the velocity from dynamic LVOT obstruction. (a) Aortic stenosis continuous wave signal with guided probe. (b) Aortic stenosis continuous wave signal with non-guided probe. (c) Mitral regurgitation continuous wave signal (arrow) with guided probe. (d) Mitral regurgitation continuous wave signal (arrow) with non-guided probe with mitral inflow signal above baseline (arrowhead) consistent with presence of concomitant mitral stenosis. (e) LVOT continuous signal without dynamic LVOT obstruction at rest. (f) Dynamic LVOT obstruction with Valsalva maneuver. (g) Dynamic LVOT obstruction with amyl nitrite. (h) Dynamic LVOT obstruction signal contaminated with MR signal\n\nFig. 16.3a\u2013c\n\nFig. 16.3\n\n(a\u2013c) Low gradient, low output aortic stenosis and evaluation\n\nTables 16.1\u201316.4\n\nTable 16.1\n\nEtiologies of stenosis and associated lesions\n\nAortic stenosis | \u2022 Valvular\n\n---|---\n\n\u2022 Subvalvular\n\n\u2022 Supravalvular\n\nCauses of aortic valve stenosis | \u2022 Valve calcification\n\n\u2022 Congenital malformation\n\n\u2022 Rheumatic disease\n\n\u2022 Radiation-induced VHD\n\n\u2022 Mucopolysaccharidoses\n\nUnicuspid aortic valve | \u2022 Fatal aortic stenosis in children under 1 year\n\n\u2022 Rare in adults ?0.02%\n\n\u2022 Uni- or acommissural\n\n\u2022 Causes aortic stenosis\n\n\u2022 Associated with aorta dilatation\n\nBicuspid aortic valve | \u2022 1\u20132% of general population\n\n\u2022 From fusion of two cusps\n\n\u2022 Aortic stenosis\/regurgitation\n\n\u2022 Infective endocarditis\n\n\u2022 Sinus of Valsalva aneurysm\n\n\u2022 Ascending aorta dilatation\/aneurysm\n\n\u2022 Aortic coarctation\n\nSubvalvular aortic stenosis | \u2022 Discrete fibrous membrane (90%)\n\n\u2022 Muscular narrowing\n\n\u2022 Prevalence ?6.5% in adults CHD\n\n\u2022 Iatrogenic after VSD patch repair\n\n\u2022 Associated aortic regurgitation\n\nSupravalvular aortic stenosis | \u2022 Focal or diffuse narrowing starting at the sinotubular junction\n\n\u2022 Rare involvement of aortic arch and peripheral vessels\n\n\u2022 Frequently associated with Williams-Beuren syndrome (71%)\n\n\u2022 Aortic valve abnormalities 50% of patients (commonly BAV)\n\nTable 16.2\n\nGrading severity of aortic stenosis (ACC\/AHA guidelines 2006) | AVA (cm2) | Indexed AVA (cm2\/m2) | MG (mmHg) | Velocity (m\/s) | Velocity ratio (no units)\n\n---|---|---|---|---|---\n\nMild | >1.5 | >0.85 | <25 | <3 | >0.50\n\nModerate | 1\u20131.5 | 0.60\u20130.85 | 25\u201340 | 3\u20134 | 0.25\u20130.50\n\nSevere | <1 | <0.60 | >40 | >4 | <0.25\n\nTable 16.3\n\nEtiologies of aortic regurgitation (Circulation. 2006;114:422\u2013429)\n\nValve 46% | Nonvalve 54%\n\n---|---\n\n\u2022 Congenital malformation | \u2022 Aortic dissection\n\nBicuspid | \u2022 Marfan or forme fruste\n\nQuadricuspid | \u2022 Aortitis\n\nTricuspid | \u2022 Cause unclear (maybe associated with hypertension)\n\n\u2022 Endocarditis\n\n\u2022 Rheumatic\n\n\u2022Miscellaneous\n\nTable 16.4\n\nAssessment and grading of aortic regurgitation (American Society of Echocardiography Guidelines 2003) | Mild | Moderate | Severe\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nQualitative and semi-quantitative\n\nJet width in LVOT | <25% | 25\u201364% | ?65%\n\nJet area in LVOT | <5% | 5\u201359% | ?60%\n\nVena contracta width | <3 mm | 3\u20136 mm | >6 mm\n\nColor flow reversal in aorta (thoracic descending aorta) | Brief | Intermediate | Holodiastolic\n\nPressure half-time | ?650 ms | 280\u2013650 ms | <280 ms\n\nQualitative\n\nRegurgitant volume | <30 cc | 30\u201359 cc | ?60 cc\n\nEffective regurgitant orifice area (EROA) | <0.1 cm2 | 0.1\u20130.29 cm2 | ?0.30 cm2\n\nRegurgitant fraction | <30% | 30\u201349% | ?50%\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_17\n\n# 17. Mitral Prolapse Regurgitation and Mitral Stenosis\n\nNuasheen Akhter1  and Issam A. Mikati\n\n(1)\n\nDivision of Cardiology, The Feinberg School of Medicine, Chicago, IL, USA\n\nNuasheen Akhter\n\nEmail: n.akhter@northwestern.edu\n\nThe assessment of mitral regurgitation requires an understanding of the complex anatomy of the mitral valve. The mitral valve complex includes the leaflets, annulus, chordae tendineae, papillary muscles, underlying myocardium, left atrium, and left ventricle.1 Understanding the interaction of these elements is crucial for determining the mechanism of mitral regurgitation. To facilitate communication, the following classification of MR mechanism is widely used. Type I refers to structurally normal valve leaflet mobility, for example, dilated annulus, perforation, or cleft. Type II refers to valves with excessive leaflet mobility as in patients with mitral valve prolapse. Type III refers to restricted leaflet motion. Type IIIa refers to systolic and diastolic restriction of leaflet motion as in cases of rheumatic MR or MR secondary to radiation, connective tissue disorders, or degenerative calcific disease. Type IIIb refers to systolic restriction of leaflet motion as in ischemic MR.2\n\nMitral valve prolapse is said to occur when there is valve leaflet prolapse of 2 mm or more above the mitral annulus in the long-axis parasternal view.3 MVP occurs as a clinical entity with or without thickening (5 mm or greater, measured during diastasis) and with or without MR. Prediction of reparability of the valve is possible with transthoracic echocardiography TTE (97% of cases) and transesophageal echocardiography (TEE).4\n\nIdentification of involved scallops is possible by TEE5 (see Fig. 17.5). Incorporation of jet direction information helps in identification of involved leaflet. The jet is directed in the opposite direction of the prolapsing leaflet. In cases of restriction of leaflet motion the jet moves in the direction of the involved leaflet (which is usually the posterior leaflet). Three dimensional TTE and 2D TEE were more accurate (90% and 87%) than 2D TTE (77%) in identifying involved scallop.6 A thorough exam is essential to identify all the pathologies; in one report 5% of patients had more than one mechanism of MR.7 TEE was able to identify risk factors for post-repair complications such as systolic anterior motion of the anterior leaflet of the mitral valve (tall posterior leaflet > 1.9 cm, posterior leaflet\/anterior leaflet <1, and coaptation distance to septum distance <2.5).8,9\n\nFig. 17.1\n\nNormal MV anatomy.1 The mitral valve MV is composed of several elements. The annulus has a saddle shape in three dimensions. It integrates with the fibrous continuity of the mitral valve anterior leaflet and anterior annulus. The intertrigonal distance is fixed. The anterior leaflet has 60% MV area but subtends only a third of the circumference of the MV. An area of coaptation of 3\u20135 mm is expected normally. Each leaflet is divided into three scallops that are labeled 1\u20133 going from lateral to medial: lateral (A1, P1), middle (A2, P2), and medial (A3, P3) (See Fig. 17.6). Primary chordae extend from papillary muscles to leaflet edge. Secondary chordae extend from papillary muscle to mid undersurface of leaflets. Tertiary chordae extend from posterior LV wall to base of posterior leaflet. Chords from anterolateral papillary muscle supply lateral part of both anterior and posterior leaflets. Similarly chords from posteromedial papillary muscle supply medial part of both leaflets\n\nFig. 17.2\n\nMechanisms of mitral regurgitation.2 A commonly used system for classification of MR was developed by Dr Alain Carpentier. It relates function\/motion of the leaflets to structure. It facilitates communication between cardiologist and surgeon so that feasibility and type of repair can be determined. Three types have been identified. Type I is characterized by normal leaflet length and motion. Examples, annular dilation or leaflet perforation, such as with endocarditis. Type II MR is caused by excessive leaflet motion (most commonly prolapse or flail) usually from myxomatous disease, or by papillary muscle rupture or elongation (See Fig. 17.5) Type III MR is caused by restricted leaflet motion. Type IIIa is classically caused by rheumatic disease with subvalvular involvement (See Fig. 17.12b). Type IIIb is usually caused by ischemic or idiopathic cardiomyopathy with ventricular dilation causing tethering and restricted motion of the leaflets\n\nFig. 17.3\n\nFluid dynamics and measures of mitral regurgitation severity.24 (Adapted from www.\u200bechoincontext.\u200bcom\/\u200bimages\/\u200banat_\u200bpisa003.\u200bjpg). Several concepts of fluid dynamics that apply to passage of fluid through a narrow orifice can be used to assess severity of mitral regurgitation. As fluid approaches a narrow orifice it accelerates in concentric hemispheres or shells. Fluid particles at the same distance from the orifice have the same velocity. This is the underlying principle for the PISA method. As the fluid passes through the narrow orifice it accelerates. The wider the neck of that flow (vena contracta) the more severe is the MR (see Fig. 17.10).Chronic volume overload of the left atrium LA results in LA dilatation and increase in LA pressures. This results in systolic flow reversal in the pulmonary veins (See Fig. 17.11b)\n\nFig. 17.4\n\nIdentification of scallop anatomy of mitral valve by transthoracic echo.4 Four imaging planes to assess the precise localization of prolapsed or flail segments. (a) Inter-commissural plane assessing the continuity of the commissural areas. This is equivalent to vertical midesophageal TEE view with medial angulation (See Fig. 17.5c). (b) Parasternal short-axis view showing the anterior leaflet (A1, A2, and A3) and the three scallops of the posterior leaflet (P1, P2, and P3). This is equivalent to horizontal transgastric TEE view (See Fig. 17.5a). (c) Parasternal long-axis view showing the middle segments of anterior (A2) and posterior (P2) leaflets. This is equivalent to vertical midesophageal TEE view 120\u00b0 with medial angulation (See Fig. 17.5d). (d) Apical four-chamber view showing the anterior para-commissural zone (between P1 and P2). This is equivalent to horizontal midesophageal TEE (See Fig. 17.5c). ANT, anterior; AO, descending aorta; AV, aortic valve; LA, left atrium; LAA, left atrial appendage; LV, left ventricle; POST, posterior; PV, pulmonary vein; RV, right ventricle; TV, tricuspid valve\n\nFig. 17.5\n\nIdentification of scallop anatomy of mitral valve by transesophageal echo.25 (a) Foster et al.25 demonstrated that a systematic approach using TEE is successful in identifying the scallop involved with prolapse\/flail. Left Panel demonstrates the nomenclature. The lateral, middle, and medial scallops are numbered as follows: A1, A2, A3 and P1, P2, P3 for anterior and posterior leaflets, respectively. The cartoon which is modified from Foster25 demonstrates the important anatomic relationships. Left atrial appendage is closest to lateral scallops (A1, P1). The aortic valve is closest to medial scallops (A3 and P3). The middle panel demonstrates a basal transverse transgastric TEE view. This is obtained by withdrawing the probe to the proximal part of the stomach. It is difficult to visualize prolapsing\/flail segments since the ventricular surface of the mitral valve is seen. It does allow identification of elongated\/redundant scallops. Color Doppler in this view allows identification of the origin of the MR jet which also localizes pathology. In right panel color is seen to originate medially in A3, P3 area. (b) Left panel (Modified from Foster25) demonstrates that the lateral scallops of the mitral valve leaflets are cranial to middle and medial scallops. Therefore, when TEE probe is in upper esophagus (green plane) one can visualize A1 and P1. The LVOT and aortic valve are important landmarks that help characterize this location. Pushing the probe in (red plane) LVOT and aortic valve are no longer visualized and A2 and P2 are now seen. Pushing the probe in further (purple plane) A3 and P3 can be examined. An alternative method would be to start at the midesophageal point (red plane) and obtain cranial plane (green) to visualize A1, P1 by anteflexion. Retroflexion of probe provides caudal view (purple plane) and therefore A3, P3. Other planes are needed to confirm findings (see Fig. 17.5c) as individual anatomical variations are common. (c) The mid commissural view (60\u00b0) can be used to confirm findings from other views (Modified from Foster25). Clockwise rotation provides a medial plane (green) cut through anterior leaflet. This allows visualization of A1, A2, and A3 (from left to right of the screen). Slight counterclockwise rotation (red plane) allows visualization of P1, A2, and P3. Further counterclockwise rotation (purple plane) provides a view through a lateral plane demonstrating P1, P2, and P3. The middle panel (green frame) corresponds to a medial vertical cut through mitral valve demonstrating A1 prolapse. The panel on the right (red frame) demonstrates a flail (yellow arrow) medial scallop of posterior leaflet (P3). (d) Other views (30\u00b0, 45\u00b0, and 120\u00b0) can be obtained to confirm findings (See Fig. 17.7)\n\nFig. 17.6\n\nMitral valve anatomy using real time 3D echocardiography. The 3D image is usually displayed in the surgeon's view. This mimics the orientation of cardiac structures in the surgical field as seen by the surgeon. This can be derived from the reference image by rotating the image by 45\u00b0 then flipping it (Fig. 17.6a). The full volume is acquired with 4 consecutive heart beats through the MV at a medium density setting in the 2D 0\u00b0 TEE view, which encompassed the MV annulus and the aortic valve. The next step is image orientation. The MV is displayed from the atrial side with the aortic valve at the 12 o'clock position. In this orientation, the anterior MV leaflet is next to the aortic valve and the posterior MV leaflet is opposite. The scallops are shown from lateral\/left (A1\/P1) to medial\/right (A3\/P3). The final step is to optimize the image by cropping the blue short axis plane down toward the MV and decreasing the gain setting. The resulting image is shown in Fig. 17.6b (Image courtesy of Dr Vera Rigolin)\n\nFig. 17.7\n\nComprehensive assessment of mitral valve prolapse and flail using 2D TTE, TEE, and 3D echocardiography. (Classic P2 Flail) (a) 2D 0\u00b0 TEE view shows a flail P2 scallop with a ruptured chordae tendinae (arrow). (b) 2D 120\u00b0 TEE end-systolic view further demonstrates P2 prolapse. (c) 3D TEE live zoom acquisition in from the atrial side with the aortic valve at the 12 o'clock position displays P2 prolapse (arrow) with a torn chordae tendinae (asterisk). (d) A 3D rendering of the P2 prolapse can be created with Philips Mitral Valve Quantification (MVQ) software. The area coded red indicates part of the mitral valve that is breaking the annular plane and encroaching on the atrial side. This clearly demonstrates that prolapse is occurring in middle posterior scallop (P2). The blue color indicates areas of leaflets that are on ventricular side of annular plane and therefore have restricted motion. This facilitates identification of the mechanisms involved in pathophysiology of MR (still a research tool at this point)\n\nFig. 17.8\n\nMultiple mechanisms of mitral regurgitation examined by multiple modalities. Although multiple mechanisms of MR are not very frequent7 they need to be recognized in advance so that complete repair is done to avoid multiple pump runs and residual MR (A2 Perforation, P2 Prolapse). (a) This is a 2D 0\u00b0 esophageal TEE view, which demonstrates an A2 aneurysm and perforation (arrow) and (b), which shows the P2 prolapse with adjacent flail chordae tendinae. (c) The full volume 3D TEE en face view of the MV from the left atrial perspective displays the A2 perforation (black asterisk), P2 prolapse (white asterisk), and the flail chordae tendinae (arrow). 3D echocardiography allows visualization in one view of multiple pathologies that are physically in different planes. (d) The presence of multiple MR jets is a clue that multiple pathologies exist and should be looked for. This 2D 0\u00b0 esophageal TEE view with color Doppler confirms the two jets (arrows) of mitral regurgitation, anteriorly from the P2 flail and posteriorly from the A2 perforation\n\nFig. 17.9\n\nAssessment of mitral regurgitation by color Doppler jet area. (a) Color Doppler interrogation of severity of MR can be done semiquantitatively by tracing the area of regurgitant signal or, more commonly, qualitatively by visually assessing the size of the jet and comparing it to left atrial area. Relying on this as a sole criterion for assessment of severity of MR is not recommended. Color display is a velocity map so a high velocity jet may generate same area of turbulence as a larger slower moving jet. This method is very sensitive to velocity map, gain, and filter settings. Setting the Nyquist limit too low will exaggerate severity of MR. Proper Nyquist limit is 50\u201360 cm\/s. High gains as is evidenced in Fig. 17.9a by presence of color pixels overlying LA wall will exaggerate severity of MR. Color Doppler will overestimate severity of central jet similar to one seen in Fig. 17.9a. (b) On the other hand eccentric jet (similar to anteromedial jet seen in Fig. 17.9b will be underestimated by color Doppler secondary to entrainment (Coanda effect)\n\nFig. 17.10\n\nVena contracta in grading severity of mitral regurgitation. The MR jet as it passes through the regurgitant orifice narrows down before the jet expands in the LA. The width of that neck correlates with severity of MR. Vena contracta width of 8 mm is consistent with severe MR as in Fig. 17.10. The advantage of this method is that it is simple. Its greatest utility is in identifying patients with MR on either end of the spectrum (mild or severe; it is not very useful in patients with moderate degrees of MR). It works in patient with central as well as eccentric jet but not in patients with multiple jets. Technical recommendations: (1) Parasternal views are preferable. Apical two chamber views are to be avoided. (2) Zoomed views should be used. The zoom box should be as small as possible to maximize magnification of the image and minimize measurement error. This will also image line density and frame rate. (3) The position of the focal zone should be placed at the level of the vena contracta. (4) The color sector should be narrowed again if possible and the pulse repetition frequency (color scale) increased to provide the maximum frame rate. (5) Then the image needs to be frozen. Scrolling back through the cineloop will locate the best representative frame for measurement26\n\nFig. 17.11\n\nQuantitative measures of mitral regurgitation. (a) Mitral regurgitant volume by continuity equation. Advantages of the continuity equation method are that it applies for MR with eccentric jet, late systolic MR jets or even MR with multiple jets. The disadvantages are that numerous measurements are needed. Measurement of annulus is squared resulting in doubling of the relative error. In most cases of severe MR the mitral annulus approaches circular shape. Some practitioners average the four chamber and two chamber diameters. Regurgitant Fraction = (FlowMitral \u2013 FlowLVOT)\/FlowMitral; FlowMitral = (?\/4) * D2 * TVIMitral; FlowAortic = (?\/4) * D2 * TVIAortic; DMitral = 33 mm (4 Chamber) 31 mm (2 Chamber); TVIMitral = 16 cm; DAortic = 20 mm (4 Chamber); TVIAortic = 20 cm; FlowMitral = 0.785 * 10.24 * 16 = 128 mL; FlowAortic = 0.785 * 4 * 20 = 62 mL; Regurgitant volume = FlowMitral \u2013 FlowLVOT = 128\u201362 = 66 mL; Regurgitant Fraction = 66\/128 = 52%. (b) Effective regurgitant orifice area by proximal isovelocity area (PISA) method for grading severity of mitral regurgitation. PISA is based on the continuity principle. When flow converges toward a restrictive orifice, it forms hemispheric isovelocity shells which can be used to calculate an effective regurgitant orifice (ERO) and a regurgitant volume (RV). (A) The aliasing velocity is decreased to approximately 30 cm\/s to create the isovelocity shell. The shell area is 2?(R)2. The (R) is the radius of the shell. The shell area x the aliasing velocity is the flow on the proximal side of the MV. In this example, R = 0.8 cm and the aliasing velocity = 30 cm\/s. The flow is 2 \u00d7 ? \u00d7 (0.815)2(30) = 125 cm3. According to the continuity principle, the flow on the proximal side of the MV = the flow on the distal side of the MV. The distal flow is the area of the effective regurgitant orifice \u00d7 the maximum velocity of the mitral regurgitation obtained by CW Doppler. (B) In this example, the ERO = 125 cm3\/435 cm\/s = 0.29 cm2. The RV is then calculated by the ERO \u00d7 mitral regurgitation VTI. In this example, the RV is 0.29 cm2 \u00d7 146 cm = 43 cm3. This technique is not optimal for eccentric jets, MR with multiple jets, late systolic MR and for patients with deformed valve in whom a proper convergence zone hemisphere cannot be obtained. (C) The PW Doppler of the pulmonary vein demonstrates systolic flow reversal which suggests severe mitral regurgitation\n\nAssessment of the severity of MR should incorporate indirect measures of MR severity (such as LA size, pulmonary venous flow) as well as direct measures for optimal accuracy; reliance on one parameter can often lead to errors. One should question the presence of chronic severe MR if left atrial size is normal or if the mitral inflow shows A-wave dominance. Semiquantitative measures of MR severity (such as jet area by color Doppler, vena contracta, intensity of continuous wave Doppler signal) offer a quick and time-efficient assessment (Table 17.1). Color Doppler techniques assume holosystolic flow; this assumption does not always hold especially in conditions such as mitral valve prolapse and hypertrophic cardiomyopathy in which MR may be a late systolic event. Reliance on color Doppler in these instances may result in overestimation of MR severity.\n\nQuantitative methods improve accuracy and have been shown to predict prognosis even in asymptomatic patients.10 These include regurgitant volume and fraction as determined by continuity equation and effective regurgitant orifice area (EROA) by proximal isovelocity area (PISA) method. Regurgitant volume can also be derived from EROA using the PISA method. A combination of these parameters is used to grade MR severity as mild, moderate, or severe (Table 17.2 and 17.3).11\n\nThe 2D assessment of the stenotic mitral valve helps in diagnosis and management. Most common etiology is still rheumatic heart disease resulting in the typical appearance of hockey stick deformity of the anterior leaflet of the mitral valve (secondary to preferential involvement of leaflet tips) and chordal shortening and fusion (see Fig. 17.12a.)\n\nFig. 17.12\n\nEchocardiographic features of mitral stenosis. (a) Rheumatic mitral stenosis. This figure demonstrates typical findings of rheumatic mitral stenosis (MS). The left panel shows hockey stick deformity of the anterior leaflet of the mitral valve in diastole. This appearance is a manifestation of the preferential involvement of the tips of the leaflets with the inflammatory\/fibrosis process. This leads to relatively preserved mobility of the body with restricted mobility of the tip and the typical appearance. The right panel is a TEE from a different patient. The green arrow shows severe thickening and shortening of the chordae tendinae. Another common feature of rheumatic mitral stenosis is commissural fusion. The presence of commissural fusion may be a good predictor of who will respond to balloon valvuloplasty. (b) Other etiologies of mitral stenosis. Other etiologies of mitral stenosis include radiation and connective tissue disorders. Systemic lupus erythematosus causes diffuse thickening of the body of the valve leaflet (see TEE in Fig. 17.12b) as opposed to the tips in rheumatic heart disease\n\nThe most commonly used score to predict the potential success of balloon valvotomy is the Wilkins score12 (see Table 17.4). Others favor scores based on commissural anatomy.13 No clear superiority of one technique over another has ever been established. Three Dimensional echo is probably superior for visualization of commissures.14\n\nTable 17.1\n\nQualitative and quantitative parameters useful in grading mitral regurgitation severity11 | Mild | Moderate | Severe\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nStructural parameters\n\nLA size | Normala | Normal or dilated | Usually dilatedb\n\nLV size | Normala | Normal or dilated | Usually dilatedb\n\nMitral leaflets or support apparatus | Normal or abnormal | Normal or abnormal | Abnormal\/flail leaflet\/ruptured papillary muscle\n\nDoppler parameters\n\nColor flow jet areac | Small, central jet (usually < 4 cm2 or <20% of LA area) | Variable | Large central jet (usually > 10 cm2 or >40% of LA area) or variable size wall-impinging jet swirling in LA\n\nMitral inflow \u2013 PW | A wave dominantd | Variable | E wave dominantd\n\nJet density \u2013 CW | Incomplete or faint | Dense | Dense\n\nJet contour \u2013 CW | Parabolic | Usually parabolic | Early peaking \u2013 triangular\n\nPulmonary vain flow | Systolic dominancee | Systolic bluntinge | Systolic flow reversalf\n\nCW, continuous wave; LA, left atrium; LV, left ventricle; PW, pulsed wave; RF, regurgitant fraction\n\na Unless there are other reasons for LA or LV dilation. Normal 2D measurements; LV minor axis ? 82 mL\/m2, maximal LA antero-posterior diameter ? 2 cm\/m2, maximal LA volume ? 36 mL\/m2 (2, 33, 35)\n\nb Exception: acute mitral regurgitation\n\nc At a Nyquist limit of 50\u201360 cm\/s\n\nd Usually above 50 years of age or in conditions of impaired relaxation, in the absence of mitral stenosis or other causes of elevated LA pressure\n\ne Systolic dominance or blunting or both\n\nf Pulmonary venous systolic flow reversal is specific but not sensitive for severe MR\n\nTable 17.2\n\nQuantitative measures of grading MR severity11 | Formula | Advantage | Potential Pitfall\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nEROA (cm2) PISA | 6.28 \u00d7 r2 \u00d7 v Nyq\/v CW | Simple, few measurements | Eccentric jets; Non-hemispheric zone of acceleration; Multiple jets\n\nRegurgitant vol. (mL\/beat) PISA method | EROA \u00d7 TVICW | Simple, few measurements | Eccentric jets; multiple steps\n\nContinuity equation method | FlowMitral \u2013 FlowLVOT | Multiple jets, eccentric jets | AF\n\nRegurgitant fraction (%) | (FlowMitral \u2013 Flow LVOT)\/FlowMitral\n\n|  |\n\nEccentric jets; multiple steps, AF\n\nEROA, effective regurgitant orifice area; PISA, proximal isovelocity surface area; V Nyq, velocity of Nyquist limit; v CW , peak velocity of MR continuous wave; DMitral, diameter of mitral annulus; DLVOT, diameter of LVOT annulus; AF, atrial fibrillation;\n\nTable 17.3\n\nQualitative and quantitative parameters useful in grading mitral regurgitation severity11 | Mild | Moderate | Severe\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nQuantitative parametersa\n\n|  |  |\n\nVC width (cm) | <0.3 | 0.3\u20130.69 | ?0.7\n\nR Vol (mL\/beat) | <30 | 30\u201344 | 45\u201359 | ?60\n\nRF (%) | <30 | 30\u201339 | 40\u201349 | ?50\n\nEROA (cm2) | <0.20 | 0.20\u20130.29 | 0.30\u20130.39 | ?0.40\n\nEROA, effective regurgitant orifice area; LV, left ventricle; PW, pulsed wave; RF, regurgitant \u00adfraction; R Vol, regurgitant volume; VC, vena contracta\n\na Quantitative parameters can help subclassify the moderate regurgitant group into mild-to-moderate and moderate-to-severe\n\nTable 17.4\n\nAssessment of mitral valve anatomy according to the Wilkins score13\n\nGrade | Mobility | Thickening | Calcification | Subvalvular thickening\n\n---|---|---|---|---\n\n1 | Highly mobile valve with only leaflet tips restricted | Leaflets near normal in thickness (4\u20135 mm) | A single area of increased echo brightness | Minimal thickening just below the mitral leaflets\n\n2 | Leaflet mid and base portions have normal mobility | Midleaflets normal, considerable thickening of margins (5\u20138 mm) | Scattered areas of brightness confined to leaflet margins | Thickening of chordal structures extending to one-third of the chordal length\n\n3 | Valve continues to move forward in diastole, mainly from the base | Thickening extending through the entire leaflet (5\u20138 mm) | Brightness extending into the mid-portions of the leaflets | Thickening extended to distal third of the chords\n\n4 | No or minimal forward movement of the leavlets in diastole | Considerable thickening of all leaflet tissue (>8\u201310 mm) | Extensive brightness throughout much of the leaflet tissue | Extensive thickening and shortening of all chordal structures extending down to the papillary muscles\n\nThe total score is the sum of the four items and ranges between 4 and 16\n\nTable 17.5\n\nRecommendations for classification of mitral stenosis severity13 | Mild | Moderate | Severe\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nSpecific findings\n\nValve area (cm2) | >1.5 | 1.0\u20131.5 | <1.0\n\nSupportive findings\n\nMean gradient (mmHg)a | <5 | 5\u201310 | >10\n\nPulmonary artery pressure (mmHg) | <30 | 30\u201350 | >50\n\na At heart rates between 60 and 80 bpm and in sinus rhythm\n\nMitral valve area (MVA) measurement by planimetry is considered the reference measurement for assessment of the severity of mitral stenosis.15,16 Optimization of the image is critical (see Fig. 17.13). Three-dimensional echocardiography facilitates this optimization especially for less experienced sonographers.17,18\n\nFig. 17.13\n\nAssessment of mitral stenosis by planimetry. (a) Planimetry by 2D echocardiography. Assessment of severity of mitral stenosis by direct planimetry of mitral valve opening is a Level Recommendation13. It is direct measurement that does not rely on hemodynamic factors like cardiac output. It can be done on transgastric short axis view (Fig. 17.11a) or parasternal short axis view. To optimize results: (1) a zoomed view of MV is done. (2) It is essential to use proper gains. Over gaining image will result in an area measurement that is smaller than the true mitral valve orifice. (3) A sweep from cranial to caudal helps to ensure the smallest area is obtained. This is usually (but not always) at the leaflet tips. (4) Measurement of area should be done at mid diastole. (5) It is essential to make sure that the plane of the orifice being planimetered is perpendicular to the long axis of LV. An oblique cut will overestimate the area and therefore underestimate severity of MS. (b) Planimetry by 3D echocardiography. The main advantage of 3D echocardiography is the ability to achieve a perpendicular en face cut plane of the mitral valve orifice. The measurements are more accurate when performed from the ventricular orientation. Three dimensional derived MVA had better correlation with area calculations derived using the Gorlin formula during cardiac catheterization than 2D and Doppler measurements, such as 2D planimetry, pressure half-time, and flow convergence. 3D measurements have lower intraobserver and interobserver variability. The ease of acquisition and online review of real-time 3D echocardiography facilitates immediate assessment of the mitral valve commissural splitting after percutaneous balloon mitral valvuloplasty in the cardiac catheterization laboratory. This is important since acute changes in compliance make pressure half-time less reliable27\n\nFig. 17.14\n\nDoppler assessment of mitral stenosis by pressure half-time method. (a) The pressure half-time PHT method derives from the principle that the decay of the diastolic pressure gradient between the LA and LV is inversely proportional to MVA and therefore is directly related to MS severity.20 The PHT is the time it takes for the pressure to reach half its original starting value (red line). MVA(cm2) = 220\/PHT (ms). Use of this method for assessment of MS receives a Level Recommendation from the American Society of Echocardiography.13 The advantage of this method is its simplicity. Inadequate recordings may be obtained when there is poor alignment with mitral inflow jet, incorrect gain and filter settings, in presence of aortic regurgitation. Clinical situations in which PHT method does not work well include elderly patients especially in the presence of significant diastolic dysfunction, atrial flutter, and tachycardia and in situations with rapid pressure or compliance changes such as after exercise or balloon valvuloplasty. When the continuous wave signal is not linear or is concave then PHT cannot be measured. (b) In some situations the pressure decay is bimodal. There is an early steeper (red line) and later shallower pressure decay (green line). In these situations the true PHT is reflected by the later slope28\n\nFig. 17.15\n\nDoppler assessment of mitral stenosis by mean gradient. The mean gradient is a Level Recommendation from the American Society of Echocardiography.13 The mean gradient depends on the cardiac output. This leads to underestimation of severity of mitral stenosis in patients with low stroke volume and LV dysfunction. Conversely high output states (like mitral regurgitation, anemia, and hyperthyroidism) will lead to overestimation of the severity of MS. Assessment of mean gradient is done through apical windows. Alignment with MR jet is critical. Color Doppler jet may help in patients in whom valve deformity results in eccentric jet. In patients with atrial fibrillation the mean gradient will vary with cycle length. After a short cycle the gradient is higher (Gradient after short cycle in Fig. 17.15b is 17 mmHg) and after long cycles the gradient is lower (Gradient after long cycle in Fig. 17.15b is 9 mmHg). In patients with atrial fibrillation averaging at least five beats is recommended\n\nFig. 17.16\n\nDoppler assessment of mitral stenosis by proximal isovelocity area method. The PISA method can be used to measure MVA. Unlike the case of MR the convergence does not approximate a hemisphere often because of the angle between mitral valve leaflets. This necessitates the correction factor without which flow and therefore MVA would be overestimated. ![\n$$ \\\\text{MVA}=\\(2\\\\times \\\\Pi \\\\times {\\\\text{r}}^{2}\\\\times {\\\\text{v}}_{\\\\text{Nyquist}}\\\\times \\[\\\\alpha \/180\\]\\)\/{\\\\text{v}}_{\\\\text{Mitral CW}}$$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_17_Fig18_HTML.gif). For the patient in example 16 r = 1.1 cm; v Nyquist = 0.37 m\/s ;? = 120\u00b0; vMitral CW=1.9 m\/s. ![\n$$ \\\\text{MVA}=\\(2\\\\times 3.14\\\\times {\\(1.1\\)}^{2}\\\\times 0.37\\\\times \\[\\\\alpha 120\/180\\]\\)\/1.9\\\\text{MVA}=1.0{\\\\text{cm}}^{2}$$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_17_Fig19_HTML.gif). Steps for optimal data collection for the PISA method include: (1) Zoom on mitral valve. (2) Shift baseline up in direction of flow \"toward the LV\" or up in case of TTE. The best Nyquist limit is the one that results in a hemispheric convergence zone. This usually is slightly higher than the Nyquist limit used for MR (35\u201340 cm\/s). (3) Radius is measured from the point of color change to leaflet tips. Leaflet tips may be identified using color suppress function. Measurement is usually made in mid diastole. (4) Angle is then measured. (5) Peak diastolic velocity is then measured\n\nMitral valve area can be obtained using the formula MVA = 220\/Pressure Half Time. This method is limited in patients with abnormal relaxation (severity of stenosis is overestimated19) and in patients with changing compliance (immediately post-valvotomy20,21)\n\nMVA can also be obtained using the continuity equation. This method suffers from the multiple measurements required with potentially compounding error.\n\nThe PISA method can be used to obtain MVA.22 This method is limited by technical demands.\n\nAnother useful measure of mitral stenosis is the mean gradient across the mitral valve (Table 17.5). This has been validated against the gradient obtained invasively in the cath lab using a transeptal approach.23 The heart rate at which the gradient is obtained should be reported consistently.\n\nReferences\n\n1.\n\nOtto CM. Clinical practice. Evaluation and management of chronic mitral regurgitation. N Engl J Med. 2001;345(10):740-746.PubMedCrossRef\n\n2.\n\nCohn LH, Edmunds LH. Cardiac surgery in the adult. 2nd ed. New York: McGraw-Hill; 2003.\n\n3.\n\nFreed LA, Levy D, Levine RA, et al. Prevalence and clinical outcome of mitral-valve \u00adprolapse. N Engl J Med. 1999;341(1):1-7.PubMedCrossRef\n\n4.\n\nMonin JL, Dehant P, Roiron C, et al. Functional assessment of mitral regurgitation by transthoracic echocardiography using standardized imaging planes diagnostic accuracy and \u00adoutcome implications. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2005;46(2):302-309.PubMedCrossRef\n\n5.\n\nEnriquez-Sarano M, Freeman WK, Tribouilloy CM, et al. Functional anatomy of mitral regurgitation: accuracy and outcome implications of transesophageal echocardiography. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1999;34(4):1129-1136.PubMedCrossRef00314-9)\n\n6.\n\nPepi M, Tamborini G, Maltagliati A, et al. Head-to-head comparison of two- and three-dimensional transthoracic and transesophageal echocardiography in the localization of mitral valve prolapse. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2006;48(12):2524.PubMedCrossRef\n\n7.\n\nStewart WJ, Currie PJ, Salcedo EE, et al. Evaluation of mitral leaflet motion by echocardiography and jet direction by Doppler color flow mapping to determine the mechanisms of mitral regurgitation. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1992;20(6):1353-1361.PubMedCrossRef90248-L)\n\n8.\n\nLee KS, Stewart WJ, Lever HM, Underwood PL, Cosgrove DM. Mechanism of outflow tract obstruction causing failed mitral valve repair. Anterior displacement of leaflet coaptation. Circulation. 1993;88(5 Pt 2):II24-II29.PubMed\n\n9.\n\nMaslow AD, Regan MM, Haering JM, Johnson RG, Levine RA. Echocardiographic predictors of left ventricular outflow tract obstruction and systolic anterior motion of the mitral valve after mitral valve reconstruction for myxomatous valve disease. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1999;34(7):2096-2104.PubMedCrossRef00464-7)\n\n10.\n\nEnriquez-Sarano M, Avierinos JF, Messika-Zeitoun D, et al. Quantitative determinants of the outcome of asymptomatic mitral regurgitation. N Engl J Med. 2005;352(9):875-883.PubMedCrossRef\n\n11.\n\nZoghbi WA, Enriquez-Sarano M, Foster E, et al. Recommendations for evaluation of the severity of native valvular regurgitation with two-dimensional and Doppler echocardiography. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2003;16(7):777-802.PubMedCrossRef00335-3)\n\n12.\n\nWilkins GT, Weyman AE, Abascal VM, Block PC, Palacios IF. Percutaneous balloon dilatation of the mitral valve: an analysis of echocardiographic variables related to outcome and the mechanism of dilatation. Br Heart J. 1988;60(4):299-308.PubMedCentralPubMedCrossRef\n\n13.\n\nBaumgartner H, Hung J, Bermejo J, et al. Echocardiographic assessment of valve stenosis: EAE\/ASE recommendations for clinical practice. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2009;22(1):1-23. quiz 101-102.PubMedCrossRef\n\n14.\n\nMessika-Zeitoun D, Brochet E, Holmin C, et al. Three-dimensional evaluation of the mitral valve area and commissural opening before and after percutaneous mitral commissurotomy in patients with mitral stenosis. Eur Heart J. 2007;28(1):72-79.PubMedCrossRef\n\n15.\n\nBonow RO, Carabello BA, Chatterjee K, et al. ACC\/AHA 2006 guidelines for the management of patients with valvular heart disease: a report of the American College of Cardiology\/American Heart Association Task Force on Practice Guidelines (writing Committee to Revise the 1998 guidelines for the management of patients with valvular heart disease) developed in collaboration with the Society of Cardiovascular Anesthesiologists endorsed by the Society for Cardiovascular Angiography and Interventions and the Society of Thoracic Surgeons. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2006;48(3):e1-e148.PubMedCrossRef\n\n16.\n\nVahanian A, Baumgartner H, Bax J, et al. Guidelines on the management of valvular heart disease: The Task Force on the Management of Valvular Heart Disease of the European Society of Cardiology. Eur Heart J. 2007;28(2):230-268.PubMed\n\n17.\n\nZamorano J, Cordeiro P, Sugeng L, et al. Real-time three-dimensional echocardiography for rheumatic mitral valve stenosis evaluation: an accurate and novel approach. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2004;43(11):2091-2096.PubMedCrossRef\n\n18.\n\nSebag IA, Morgan JG, Handschumacher MD, et al. Usefulness of three-dimensionally guided assessment of mitral stenosis using matrix-array ultrasound. Am J Cardiol. 2005;96(8):1151-1156.PubMedCrossRef\n\n19.\n\nMessika-Zeitoun D, Meizels A, Cachier A, et al. Echocardiographic evaluation of the mitral valve area before and after percutaneous mitral commissurotomy: the pressure half-time method revisited. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2005;18(12):1409-1414.PubMedCrossRef\n\n20.\n\nThomas JD, Weyman AE. Doppler mitral pressure half-time: a clinical tool in search of theoretical justification. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1987;10(4):923-929.PubMedCrossRef80290-5)\n\n21.\n\nThomas JD, Weyman AE. Fluid dynamics model of mitral valve flow: description with in vitro validation. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1989;13(1):221-233.PubMedCrossRef90575-5)\n\n22.\n\nMessika-Zeitoun D, Fung Yiu S, Cormier B, et al. Sequential assessment of mitral valve area during diastole using colour M-mode flow convergence analysis: new insights into mitral stenosis physiology. Eur Heart J. 2003;24(13):1244-1253.PubMedCrossRef00208-2)\n\n23.\n\nNishimura RA, Rihal CS, Tajik AJ, Holmes DR Jr. Accurate measurement of the transmitral gradient in patients with mitral stenosis: a simultaneous catheterization and Doppler echocardiographic study. J Am Coll Cardiol. 1994;24(1):152-158.PubMedCrossRef90556-8)\n\n24.\n\nwww.\u200bechoincontext.\u200bcom\/\u200bimages\/\u200banat_\u200bpisa003\n\n25.\n\nFoster GP, Isselbacher EM, Rose GA, Torchiana DF, Akins CW, Picard MH. Accurate localization of mitral regurgitant defects using multiplane transesophageal echocardiography. Ann Thorac Surg. 1998;65(4):1025-1031.PubMedCrossRef00084-8)\n\n26.\n\nRoberts BJ, Grayburn PA. Color flow imaging of the vena contracta in mitral regurgitation: technical considerations. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2003;16:1002-1006.PubMedCrossRef00509-1)\n\n27.\n\nZamorano J, Perez de Isla L, Sugeng L, et al. Non-invasive assessment of mitral valve area during percutaneous balloon mitral valvuloplasty: role of real-time 3D echocardiography. Eur Heart J. 2004;25:2086-2091.PubMedCrossRef\n\n28.\n\nGonzalez MA, Child JS, Krivokapich J. Comparison of two-dimensional and Doppler echocardiography and intracardiac hemodynamics for quantification of mitral stenosis. Am J Cardiol. 1987;60:327-332.PubMedCrossRef90236-0)\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_18\n\n# 18. Right-Sided Heart Valves Assessment in Disease\n\nFarouk Mookadam1  , Julie A. Humphries, Sherif E. Moustafa and Tahlil A. Warsame\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Mayo College of Medicine, Scottsdale, AZ, USA\n\nFarouk Mookadam\n\nEmail: mookadam.farouk@mayo.edu\n\nTable 18.1\n\nEtiologies of pulmonic stenosis (PS) and associated cardiac abnormalities\n\nClassification | Causes | Associated cardiac anomalies\n\n---|---|---\n\nValvular | Congenital (most common) | Usually isolated\n\nMay also occur as part of more complex congenital lesions such as tetralogy of Fallot (TOF), complete atrioventricular canal, double outlet right ventricle, and univentricular heart\n\nPeripheral pulmonary artery stenosis may coexist with valvular pulmonary stenosis such as in Noonan's syndrome and Williams syndrome\n\n|\n\nAcquired\n\nObstructive tumors\n\nCarcinoid heart disease\n\nRheumatic heart disease | \u2013\n\nSubvalvular (infundibular) | Congenital | Isolated is rare\n\nUsually associated with a large ventricular septal defect (VSD), as seen in TOF\n\n|\n\nAcquired\n\nDouble chamber right ventricle\n\nJet lesion produced by the VSD\n\nSevere right ventricular hypertrophy\n\nIatrogenic: prior surgery or intervention\n\nHypertrophic or infiltrative processes such as hypertrophic obstructive cardiomyopathy or glycogen storage disorders\n\nCompression from a tumor or vascular structure | \u2013\n\nSupravalvular | Congenital | Isolated or in association with other cardiac anomalies\n\nSingle, involving the main pulmonary artery or either of its branches, or multiple\n\nCommon associated defects are pulmonary valve stenosis, VSD, and TOF\n\nPeripheral pulmonary artery stenosis is often seen in association with congenital syndromes, such as congenital rubella syndrome, Williams' syndrome, Noonan's syndrome, Alagille's syndrome, Ehlers\u2013Danlos syndrome, and Silver\u2013Russell syndrome\n\n|\n\nAcquired\n\nIatrogenic: prior surgery or intervention\n\nCompression from a tumor or vascular structure\n\nIsolated pulmonary artery stenosis | \u2013\n\nTable 18.2\n\nDoppler parameters used in grading pulmonary regurgitation [1]\n\nParameter | Mild | Moderate | Severe\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nPulmonic valve | Normal | Normal or abnormal | Abnormal\n\nRV size | Normala | Normal or dilated | Dilated\n\nJet size by color Dopplerc | Thin (usually <10 mm in length) with a narrow origin | Intermediate | Usually large, with a wide origin\n\nMay be brief in duration\n\nJet density and deceleration rate \u2013 CWd | Soft\n\nSlow deceleration | Dense\n\nVariable deceleration | Dense\n\nSteep deceleration, early termination of diastolic flow\n\nPulmonic systolic flow compared to systemic flow \u2013 PWe | Slightly increased | Intermediate | Greatly increased\n\nCW continuous wave Doppler, PR pulmonic regurgitation, PW pulsed wave Doppler, RA right atrium, RF regurgitant fraction, RV right ventricle\n\naUnless there are other reasons for RV enlargement. Normal 2D measurements from the apical four-chamber view; RV mediolateral end-diastolic dimension ?4.3 cm, RV end-diastolic area ?35.5 cm2\n\nbException: acute PR\n\ncAt a Nyquist limit of 50\u201360 cm\/s\n\ndSteep deceleration is not specific for severe PR\n\neCut-off values for regurgitant volume and fraction are not well validated\n\nTable 18.3\n\nEtiologies of tricuspid regurgitation (TR)\n\nClassification | Primary TR | Secondary or functional TR (most common)\n\n---|---|---\n\nCongenital | Cleft valve (usually associated with atrioventricular canal defect)\n\nEbstein's anomaly | _\n\nAcquired | Normal variant\n\nRheumatic valve disease\n\nInfective endocarditis\n\nCarcinoid heart disease\n\nToxic (e.g., Phen-Fen or methysergide)\n\nIatrogenic: pacemaker lead\n\nTricuspid valve irradiation\n\nBlunt or penetrating injuries\n\nTricuspid valve prolapse | Right ventricular dilatation\n\nRight ventricular hypertension (e.g., pulmonary hypertension)\n\nGlobal right ventricular dysfunction secondary to myocarditis, cardiomyopathy, longstanding pulmonary hypertension with fibrosis\n\nSegmental dysfunction secondary to right ventricular ischemia or infarction, arrhythmogenic right ventricular\n\nDysplasia, endomyocardial fibrosis\n\nTable 18.4\n\nEcho parameters of tricuspid regurgitation (TR) severity [1]\n\nParameter | Mild | Moderate | Severe\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nTricuspid valve | Usually normal | Normal or abnormal | Abnormal\/flail leaflet\/poor coaptation\n\nRV\/RA\/IVC size | Normala | Normal or dilated | Usually dilatedb\n\nJet area-central jets (cm2)c | <5 | 5\u201310 | >10\n\nVC width (cm)d | Not defined | Not defined, but <0.7 | >0.7\n\nPISA radius (cm)e | ?0.5 | 0.6\u20130.9 | >0.9\n\nJet density and contour \u2013 CW | Soft and parabolic | Dense, variable contour | Dense, triangular with early peaking\n\nHepatic vein flowf | Systolic dominance | Systolic blunting | Systolic reversal\n\nCW continuous wave Doppler, IVC inferior vena cava, RA right atrium, RV right ventricle, VC vena contracta width\n\naUnless there are other reasons for RA or RV dilation. Normal 2D measurements from the apical four-chamber view: RV mediolateral end-diastolic dimension ?4.3 cm, RV end-diastolic area ?35.5 cm2, maximal RA mediolateral and supero-inferior dimensions ?4.6 and 4.9 cm respectively, maximal RA volume ?33 mL\/m2\n\nbException: acute TR\n\ncAt a Nyquist limit of 50\u201360 cm\/s. Not valid in eccentric jets. Jet area is not recommended as the sole parameter of TR severity due to its dependence on hemodynamic and technical factors\n\ndAt a Nyquist limit of 50\u201360 cm\/s\n\neBaseline shift with Nyquist limit of 28 cm\/s\n\nfOther conditions may cause systolic blunting (e.g., atrial fibrillation, elevated RA pressure)\n\nTable 18.5\n\nEtiologies of tricuspid stenosis (rheumatic, carcinoid, congenital, infective endocarditis, Fabry's, Whipple's disease, giant blood cysts)\n\nClassification | Causes\n\n---|---\n\nCongenital | Congenital tricuspid stenosis\n\nTricuspid atresia\n\nEbstein's anomaly\n\nAcquired | Rheumatic valve disease (most common)\n\nInfective endocarditis\n\nCarcinoid heart disease\n\nToxic (e.g., Phen-Fen or methysergide)\n\nPacemaker endocarditis and pacemaker-induced adhesions, lupus valvulitis, mechanical obstruction by benign or malignant tumors\n\nFabry's disease\n\nWhipple's disease\n\nFig. 18.1\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiogram. Right ventricular inflow view showing thickened and retracted tricuspid valve leaflets due to carcinoid. RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, STVL septal tricuspid valve leaflet, PTVL posterior tricuspid valve leaflet\n\nFig. 18.2\n\n(a) Two-dimensional echocardiogram. Right ventricular inflow view showing severe tricuspid regurgitation by color flow Doppler in a patient with carcinoid heart disease. (b) Short-axis view showing thickened pulmonic valve leaflets in carcinoid heart disease. RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, TR tricuspid valve, PV pulmonic valve, MPA main pulmonary artery\n\nFig. 18.3\n\nTransesophageal echocardiography showing pulmonary valve thickened and retracted due to carcinoid involvement of the right-sided heart valves. Open pulmonary valve shows doming, LV left ventricle, RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, PV pulmonic valve, MPA main pulmonary artery, AV aortic valve, AC anterior cusp, PC posterior cusp\n\nFig. 18.4\n\nPulmonary regurgitation Doppler signal showing severe pulmonary regurgitation with a short deceleration time and high pulmonary end diastolic pressures. This is in a case of pacemaker induced tricuspid regurgitation. PVEDPV pulmonic valve end diastolic peak velocity, PPM induced TR retraction of septal leaflet\n\nFig. 18.5\n\n(a) Two-dimensional echocardiogram parasternal long axis right ventricular inflow view showing retraction of the septal leaflet by a pacemaker lead, and on the right panel (b) severe tricuspid regurgitation from malcoaptation. (c) Two-dimensional echocardiogram of the RV inflow view showing tricuspid regurgitation jet velocity Doppler signal showing severe tricuspid regurgitation and low pressure gradient. RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, STVL septal tricuspid valve leaflet, ATVL anterior tricuspid valve leaflet, PML pacemaker lead, TR tricuspid valve\n\nFig. 18.6\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiogram. (a) Right ventricular inflow view showing pacemaker lead obstructing the posterior leaflet of tricuspid valve, RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, STVL septal tricuspid valve leaflet, ATVL anterior tricuspid valve leaflet, PML pacemaker lead, TV tricuspid valve\n\nFig. 18.7\n\nBioprosthetic tricuspid valve replacement. (a) Four-chamber transesophageal view with permanent pacemaker lead externalized to tricuspid ring. RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, LV left ventricle, LA left atrium, PTVL posterior tricuspid valve leaflet, TV tricuspid valve ring\n\nFig. 18.8\n\n(a) Two-dimensional echocardiogram parasternal short axis view at the base of the heart showing tricuspid valve leaflet prolapse. (b) Parasternal short axis at the base showing tricuspid valve regurgitation by color. (c) Tricuspid regurgitation Doppler signal demonstrates normal RVSP. RV right ventricle, LA right atrium, TVP tricuspid valve prolepses, AV aortic valve, MPA main pulmonary artery aneurysm, TR tricuspid regurgitation, RPA right pulmonary artery, LPA left pulmonary artery\n\nFig. 18.9\n\nTransthoracic echocardiogram. Parasternal short axis view at the base showing severe pulmonary regurgitation: Doppler trace demonstrating normal pulmonary artery pressures. PVEDPV Pulmonic valve end diastolic peak velocity\n\nFig. 18.10\n\nCongenital pulmonary stenosis showing main pulmonary artery and left pulmonary artery dilation. (a) Main pulmonary artery measures 3.5 cm and left pulmonary artery measures 3.1 cm, and in comparison, (b) right pulmonary artery measures 1.7 cm. LPA left pulmonary artery, RPA right pulmonary artery\n\nFig. 18.11\n\n(a) Parasternal short axis at the base of the heart showing dilated pulmonary artery and flow acceleration across the stenosed pulmonary valve by color flow Doppler, (b) pulmonary stenosis color flow Doppler, (c) Doppler trace showing high peak and mean gradient across the pulmonary valve, and (d) pulmonary regurgitation showing low pulmonary end diastolic regurgitation velocity indicating mildly raised EDP (8 mmHg + right atrial pressure)\n\nFig. 18.12\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiogram. Apical four-chamber view showing apical displacement of the septal and anterior tricuspid valve leaflets, leading to atrialization of the right ventricle, moderate size atrialized right ventricle, and severe right atrial enlargement. Crux to TV insertion 20 mm or 1.2 cm\/m > 2. Patient has a BSA of 1.7 m. LA left atrium, LV left ventricle, RA right atrium, RV right ventricle, MV mitral valve, TV tricuspid valve\n\nFig. 18.13\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiogram. Apical four-chamber view showing apical displacement of the septal and anterior tricuspid valve leaflets. LA left atrium, LV left ventricle, RA right atrium, RV right ventricle, MV mitral valve, STVL septal tricuspid valve leaflet, ATVL anterior tricuspid valve leaflet\n\nFig. 18.14\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiogram. Right ventricular inflow view showing thickened, large anterior tricuspid leaflet and short, retracted septal leaflet of the tricuspid valve. RV right ventricle, RA right atrium, LV left ventricle, SSTVL short septal tricuspid valve leaflet, LATVL large anterior tricuspid valve leaflet\n\nFig. 18.15\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiogram. Right ventricular inflow view showing large and mobile anterior tricuspid leaflet and short, retracted septal leaflet of the tricuspid valve. SSTVL short septal tricuspid valve leaflet, LATVL large anterior tricuspid valve leaflet\n\nFig. 18.16\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiogram. Apical four-chamber view showing severe eccentric tricuspid valve regurgitation. TR tricuspid regurgitation\n\nFig. 18.17\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiogram. Subcostal four-chamber view showing apical \u00addisplacement of the tricuspid leaflets, leading to atrialization of the right ventricle or Ebstein's anomaly. MV mitral valve, TV tricuspid valve\n\nReference\n\n1.\n\nZoghbi WA, Enriquez-Sarano M, Foster E, et al. Recommendations for evaluation of the severity of native valvular regurgitation with two-dimensional and Doppler echocardiography. J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2003;16:777-802.PubMedCrossRef00335-3)\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_19\n\n# 19. The Assessment of Prosthetic Valve Function\n\nMengistu Simegn, Anupama Kottam and Luis Afonso1\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Cardiology, Detroit Medical Centre, Wayne State University, Detroit, MI, USA\n\nLuis Afonso\n\nEmail: lafonso@med.wayne.edu\n\n## 19.1 Characteristics of Prosthetic Valves: Two General Types (Tables 19.1 and 19.2)\n\na.\n\nMechanical prosthetic valves:\n\ni.\n\nComposition: Titanium or silicon derived with a sewing ring\n\nii.\n\nDurability: 25\u201330 years\n\niii.\n\nRisk of thromboembolism: 0.1\u2013 5.7 patient-years in mitral valve position\n\niv.\n\nObligatory normal regurgitation more common than tissue valves\n\nv.\n\nTypes:\n\n1.\n\nCaged-ball (most thrombogenic)\n\n2.\n\nSingle tilting disc (intermediate thrombogenicity)\n\n3.\n\nBileaflet (least thrombogenic)\n\nb.\n\nBioprosthetic valves:\n\ni.\n\nComposition: Intact valve or made of harvested pericardium. Source: Animal (hetero\/xenograft), human (allo\/homograft), or from patient (autograft)\n\nii.\n\nDurability: 10\u201320% of homografts and 30% of heterografts undergo structural degeneration in 15 years (tears, fibrosis, or calcification)\n\n1.\n\nDeterioration more aggressive in those <40 years\n\n2.\n\nWorse with mitral valves than aortic valves due to high closing pressure\n\niii.\n\nRisk of thromboembolism: equivalent to well anticoagulated mechanical valve (3 months after implantation and endothelialization of sewing ring)\n\niv.\n\nMore resistant than mechanical valves for infection (especially homograft, one reason for their use following endocarditis).\n\nv.\n\nTypes:\n\n1.\n\nStented\n\n2.\n\nStentless\n\n## 19.2 Normal Prosthetic Valve Echocardiograms (Figs. 19.1\u201319.3)\n\n### 19.2.1 2D Echo\n\n1.\n\nApproach to imaging:\n\na.\n\nAssess stability of the sewing ring, motion of the leaflets, disk, or occluder mechanism\n\nb.\n\nIdentify the type of prosthesis\n\nc.\n\nEvaluate for gross structural abnormalities like thrombus, vegetation, etc.\n\n2.\n\nCommon features of prosthetic valves:\n\na.\n\nClicks: opening and closing dense single-line Doppler signals\n\nb.\n\nReverberation artifacts: hall mark of mechanical valves. Single with single tilting disc and double in bileaflet\n\nc.\n\nAcoustic shadowing: Echo lucent as well as color flow (CF) bare area behind the valve that limits visualization of leaflets, thrombus, vegetations; the reason why CF alone should not be used for evaluation of regurgitation (part of or all of regurgitation and perivalvular leak may not be seen)\n\nd.\n\nStruts: in stented valves, struts may be seen protruding into the RV\/LV cavity or aorta.\n\ne.\n\nIn case of prosthetic valve malfunction or endocarditis, TEE is the preferred imaging modality of choice (superior resolution and unobstructed view of atria)\n\nf.\n\nAll prosthetic valves are inherently stenotic. The degree of obstruction is dependent on the type, size, and site of the prosthetic valve.\n\n### 19.2.2 Color Flow Doppler\n\n1.\n\nPattern: in general eccentric\n\n2.\n\nSingle tilting disc: single, eccentric flow\n\n3.\n\nBileaflet: three jets with smaller rectangular central and two larger peripheral\n\n4.\n\nCaged-ball: flow bifurcation around the poppet with \"pair of horns\" appearance\n\n5.\n\nBioprosthetic: single, triangular\n\n6.\n\nProsthetic regurgitation:\n\na.\n\nClosure backflow: early flow reversal to close the occluding mechanism\n\nb.\n\nLeakage backflow: small, continuous retrograde flow as a washing mechanism to prevent thrombus formation on the upstream side\n\n7.\n\nLimitation of color flow Doppler: Flow masking due to acoustic shadowing\n\n### 19.2.3 Spectral Doppler\n\n1.\n\nNormal flow velocity across a valve depends on:\n\na.\n\nType of prosthetic valve: caged-ball mechanical valve and heterograft bioprosthesis have the smallest effective orifice areas and therefore higher gradients, whereas homografts have the largest diameter and hence gradients similar to those of native valves\n\nb.\n\nSize of the prosthetic valve: pressure gradients inversely proportional to valve size\n\nc.\n\nLocation: For mitral and tricuspid valves, gradient increases with increasing heart rate and flow rate, whereas for aortic and pulmonic valves, gradient increases with flow and contractility\n\nd.\n\nCardiac output\n\ne.\n\nHeart rate\n\n2.\n\nIncreased flow velocity may be due to stenosis or regurgitation\n\n3.\n\nAll prosthetic valves are inherently stenotic except for homografts, i.e., flow velocity across prosthetic valve is higher than native valve\n\n4.\n\nProsthetic valves also have inherent regurgitation\n\n5.\n\nAll echos should be compared with prosthetic valve echo fingerprint; an echo done within 3 months of valve replacement\n\n## 19.3 Prosthesis Malfunction\n\nCinefluoroscopy should be recognized as a simple, rapid, inexpensive technique for evaluating prosthetic-valve function, particularly mechanical valves.\n\nTable 19.1\n\nCharacteristics of mechanical prosthetic valves\n\nType | Examples | Description | Hemodynamic profile | Image\n\n---|---|---|---|---\n\nCaged-ball | Star-Edward's | Bulky and more thrombogenic | Significant gradient especially in 19\u201321 mm sizes |\n\n|  |\n\nOldest; rarely used currently | Higher gradients in AV (as high as 20) than MV\n\n|   \n|  |\n\nEffective orifice area (EOA) | Color flow: pair of horns\n\n|   \n|  |\n\nMV = 1.4\u20133.1 sq cm | Not suitable for children\n\n|   \n|  |\n\nAV = 1.2\u20131.6 sq cm\n\n|  |\n\nSingle-tilting disc | Medtronic Hall, Omniscience, Bjork-Shiley | Single disc that swings 0\u201380\u00b0 | Hemodynamics better than cage-ball |\n\n|  |\n\nEffective orifice area (EOA) | PG < 15 in AV, < 5 in MV\n\n|   \n|  |\n\nMV = 1.9\u20133.2 sq cm | Single central orifice\n\n|   \n|  |\n\nAV = 1.5\u20132.1 sq cm | 5\u201310 mL\/beat regurgitation\n\n|\n\nBileaflet | St. Jude, CarboMedics | Less bulky and thrombogenic\n\nPivoted two semicircular discs\n\nAngle changes from 0\u00b0 (closed) to 90\u00b0(open)\n\nThe most commonly implanted\n\nEOA\n\nMV = 2.8\u20133.4 sq cm\n\nAV = 2.4\u20133.2 sq cm | The best hemodynamic profile among mechanical valves |\n\n|  |  |\n\nTwo larger lateral and one smaller central flow pattern\n\n|   \n|  |  |\n\n5\u201310 mL\/beat regurgitation\n\n|   \n|  |  |\n\nPG < 15 in AV and <4.5 in MV\n\n|\n\nTable 19.2\n\nCharacteristics of bioprosthetic valves\n\nType | Examples | Description | Hemodynamic profile | Image\n\n---|---|---|---|---\n\nStented | Heterograft porcine: | Stent maintains 3D relation between the valve leaflets and facilitates implantation | Hemodynamic profile similar to comparable size mechanical valve |\n\n|\n\nCarpertier Edwards\n\n|  |  |   \n|\n\nHancock Porcine\n\n|  |\n\nSingle central flow pattern\n\n|   \n|\n\nMedtronic Intact Porcine\n\n|  |\n\nRegurgitation less than mechanical valve of similar size\n\n|   \n|\n\nHeterograft bovine pericardial Autograft:\n\n|  |  |\n\n|\n\nAutologous Pericardial\n\n|  |  |\n\nStentless | Heterografts: | Less bulky than stented valves | Lower transvalvular gradients and more laminar flow than stented valves |\n\n|\n\nSt. Jude SPV\n\n|  |  |   \n|\n\nMedtronic Freestyle\n\n|  |  |   \n|\n\nHomografts: Harvested from cadavers, could have an aortic conduit | Developed only for AV | For patients with small aortic root |\n\n|\n\nAutografts: Pulmonary autograft (Ross procedure)\n\n|  |  |\n\nTable 19.3\n\nDoppler hemodynamic profiles of 609 normal aortic valve prosthesis\n\nType of prosthesis | Peak velocity (m\/s) | Mean gradient (mmHg) | LVOT-TVI\/AV-TVI\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nHeterograft | 2.4\u00b10.5 | 13.3\u00b16.1 | 0.44\u00b10.21\n\nBall-cage | 3.2\u00b10.6 | 23.0\u00b18.8 | 0.32\u00b10.09\n\nBjork-Shiley | 2.5\u00b10.6 | 13.9\u00b17.0 | 0.40\u00b10.10\n\nJude Medical | 2.5\u00b10.6 | 14.4\u00b17.7 | 0.41\u00b10.12\n\nHomograft | 1.9\u00b10.4 | 7.7\u00b12.7 | 0.56\u00b10.10\n\nMedtronic-Hall | 2.4\u00b10.2 | 13.6\u00b13.3 | 0.39\u00b10.09\n\nTotal | 2.6\u00b10.7 | 15.8\u00b18.3 | 0.40\u00b10.16\n\nAV, aortic valve; LVOT, left ventricular outflow tract; TVI, time velocity integral\n\nFrom Miller et al.1\n\nTable 19.4\n\nApproach to prosthetic aortic valve assessment\n\nCondition | Peak velocity (m\/s) | Mean PG (mmHg) | LVOT\/Ao\n\nTVI ratio | Comment\n\n---|---|---|---|---\n\nNormal | ?3 | <25 | >0.35 | Normal output state\n\nStenosis | >3 | >25 | <0.3 | Pannus or thrombosis, TEE\/fluoroscopy\n\nPatient\u2013Prosthesis mismatch | >3 | >25 | <0.3 | Moderate: EOA: 0.6\u20130.85 cm2\/m2\n\n|  |  |  |\n\nSevere: EOA ?0.6 cm2\/m2\n\nRegurgitation | >3 | >25 | >0.3 | TEE to evaluate\n\nHigh-output state | >3 | >25 | >0.3 | Confirm the absence of regurgitation\n\nTable 19.5\n\nDoppler echocardiographic data for pulmonary valve prosthesis\n\nType of prosthesis | Size (mm) | Peak velocity (m\/s) | Mean gradient (mmHg) | Trivial\/mild prosthetic regurgitation (No.)\n\n---|---|---|---|---\n\nCarpentier-Edwards | 26.5\u00b11.8 | 2.4\u00b10.5 | 12.1\u00b15.3 | 7\n\nPulmonary homograft | 24.2\u00b11.8 | 1.8\u00b10.6a | 8.4\u00b14.8 | 15\n\nAortic homograft | 22.3\u00b11.8 | 2.5\u00b10.4 | 14.4\u00b13.4 | 3\n\nHancock | 26.0\u00b11.8 | 2.4\u00b10.5 | 14.0\u00b15.7 | 1\n\nIonescu-Shiley | 25.0\u00b11.8 | 2.4\u00b10.4 | 12.5\u00b13.5 | 2\n\nSt. Jude Medical | 25 | 2.6 | 12.0 | 1\n\nBjork-Shiley | 25 | 2.0 | 7.0 | 1\n\nCompared with all heterografts combined, P = 0.002\n\nFrom Novaro et al.4\n\nTable 19.6\n\nDoppler hemodynamic profiles of 456 normal mitral valve prosthesis\n\nType of prosthesis | Peak velocity (m\/s) | Mean gradient (mmHg) | Effective area (cm2)\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nHetergraft | 1.6\u00b10.3 | 4.1\u00b11.5 | 2.3\u00b10.7\n\nBall-cage | 1.8\u00b10.3 | 4.9\u00b11.8 | 2.4\u00b10.7\n\nBjork-Shiley | 1.7\u00b10.3 | 4.1\u00b11.6 | 2.6\u00b10.6\n\nSt. Jude Medical | 1.6\u00b10.4 | 4.0\u00b11.8 | 3.0\u00b10.8\n\nFrom Lengyel et al.2\n\nTable 19.7\n\nApproach to prosthetic mital valve assessment\n\nCondition | Peak E velocity | Mean gradient | P1\/2t | ![\n$$ \\\\frac{MV-TVI}{LVOT-TVI} $$\n](A978-1-84996-151-6_19_Fig8_HTML.gif) | Comment\n\n---|---|---|---|---|---\n\nNormal | ?1.9 m\/s | ?5 mmHg | <130 ms | <2.5 | HR 55\u201390, normal output state\n\nObstruction or stenosis | ?2 m\/s | >5 mmHg | >>130 ms | <2.5 | TEE for thrombus pannus formation, and malfunction\n\nPatient-Prosthesis mismatch | Similar to obstruction (above) but is seen at the \"Echo finger-print,\" in the absence of alternative explanation\n\n|\n\nProsthetic valve regurgitation | ?2 m\/s | >5 mmHg | <130 ms | >2.5 | E>1.9 & TVI ratio >2.5 specific for MR\n\n|  |  |  |  |\n\nWhen both are normal; specific for absence of MR\n\n|  |  |  |  |\n\nTEE for the rest\n\nHigh output state | ?2 m\/s | >5 mmHg | <130 | <2.5 | Flow across all valves increased\n\nTable 19.8\n\nDoppler hemodynamic profiles of 82 normal tricuspid valve prosthesis\n\nType of prosthesis | Peak velocity (m\/s) | Mean gradient (mmHg) | Pressure half-time (ms)\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nHeterograft | 1.3\u00b10.2 | 1.3\u00b11.1 | 146\u00b139\n\nBall-cage | 1.3\u00b10.2 | 3.1\u00b10.8 | 144\u00b146\n\nSt. Jude Medical | 1.2\u00b10.3 | 2.7\u00b11.1 | 108\u00b132\n\nBjork-Shiley | 1.3 | 2.2 | 144\n\nTotal | 1.3\u00b10.2 | 3.1\u00b11.0 | 142\u00b142\n\nModified from Connolly et al.3\n\nFig. 19.1\n\nBall-cage prosthesis (Star Edwards) illustrating poppet (*) and characteristic color flow around it\n\nFig. 19.2\n\nTEE images of a bileaflet mitral prosthesis (St. Jude) showing open leaflets and normal regurgitation wash jets upon valve closure (Panel A). Below, an example of a tilting disk prosthesis in mitral position (Panel B) and a single central wash jet (normal finding). Note prominent reverberation artifact below disk\n\nFig. 19.3\n\nMechanical mitral prosthesis showing prominent acoustic shadowing originating from valve ring (enclosed between red bold lines)\n\n### 19.3.1 Prosthetic Valve Stenosis\n\nCauses\n\n  * Outgrowing of prosthetic valve size implanted during childhood with age\n\n  * Prosthesis\u2013patient mismatch: Minimal acceptable effective orifice area for AV (below which prosthesis\u2013patient mismatch is common) = Body surface area (BSA) \u00d7 0.85 cm2.\n\n  * Stenosis in mechanical valves: thrombus, pannus, vegetation (seen typically attached at the base or sewing ring)\n\n  * Stenosis in bioprosthetic valves: cusp degeneration and calcification\n\n### 19.3.2 Prosthetic Valve Regurgitation\n\na.\n\nTypes:\n\n  * Perivalvular: usually associated with dehiscence\n\n  * Valvular\n\nb.\n\nCauses:\n\ni.\n\nMechanical valves: thrombus, pannus, poppet variance, and endocarditis\n\nii.\n\nBioprosthetic valves: cusp degeneration, endocarditis, and torn leaflet (angry bee murmur on Doppler)\n\nc.\n\nGeneral principles:\n\ni.\n\nTTE not adequate for evaluation of mitral, tricuspid, and anterior aortic regurgitation\n\nii.\n\nNormal regurgitation(wash jets):\n\n  * Regurgitant jet area of <2 cm2 for MV and <1cm2 for AV\n\n  * Regurgitant jet length of <2.5 cm for MV and <1.5 cm for AV\n\niii.\n\nVarious flow patterns\n\n### 19.3.3 Evaluation of Prosthetic Aortic Valve (Table 19.3)\n\n1.\n\nAortic valve stenosis (Table 19.4):\n\na.\n\nDetermine maximum velocity and peak gradient\n\nb.\n\nDetermine mean gradient\n\nc.\n\nEstimate velocity or TVI ratio: LVOT\/AV TVI ratio (sewing ring outer diameter may be substituted for LVOT diameter)\n\nd.\n\nCalculate EOA by continuity equation: 0.785 \u00d7 (sewing ring outer diameter)2 \u00d7 LVOT TVI\/AV TVI\n\n2.\n\nProsthetic aortic regurgitation: considered severe if\n\na.\n\nPHT ? 250 ms\n\nb.\n\nMitral inflow pattern (restrictive pattern in acute regurgitation)\n\nc.\n\nHolodiastolic reversals in descending aorta\n\nd.\n\nRegurgitant fraction of ?55%\n\n### 19.3.4 Pulmonic Prosthetic Valve\n\nThe hemodynamic profiles are similar to that of aortic valve (Table 19.5).\n\n### 19.3.5 Evaluation of Prosthetic Mitral Valve (Table 19.6)\n\n1.\n\nProsthetic mitral valve stenosis: (Table 19.7, Fig. 19.4)\n\na.\n\nE velocity: measure 5 cycles in atrial fibrillation\n\nb.\n\nMean gradient by Bernoulli equation using the entire continuous wave inflow spectrum during diastole\n\nc.\n\nEnd-diastolic gradient\n\nd.\n\nPHT: overestimates MVA (not recommended)\n\ne.\n\nMVA by continuity equation: 0.785 \u00d7 LVOT diameter 2 \u00d7 LVOT TVI\/MV TVI\n\nf.\n\nTR velocity\n\ng.\n\nMV\/LVOT TVI ratio\n\n2.\n\nProsthetic mitral regurgitation:\n\na.\n\nMitral inflow peak velocity of >2.5 m\/s\n\nb.\n\nPHT of ? 150 ms\n\nc.\n\nDensity of MR continuous-wave Doppler jet\n\nd.\n\nPISA from TEE\n\ne.\n\nEffective regurgitant orifice area of ? 0.35 cm2\n\nf.\n\nSystolic flow reversal in pulmonary vein Doppler\n\n### 19.3.6 Tricuspid Prosthetic Valve Evaluation (Table 19.8)\n\n1.\n\nFollow similar assessment to that of mitral valve.\n\n2.\n\nCutoff normal parameters are slightly different because of the larger average area; peak E < 1.3 m\/s, mean PG < 4 mmHg, P1\/2t < 140 ms, and TV-TVI to PV-TVI ratio <2.5.\n\n## 19.4 Pannus vs. Thrombus\n\nThe echocardiographic differentiation of pannus and thrombus can be challenging.\n\nFig. 19.4\n\nTEE images of mitral bioprosthesis endocarditis. Note thickened leaflets and echogenic mass consistent with a vegetation (arrow) obstructing mitral inflow. CW Doppler recorded elevated transmitral velocities and gradient (mean gradient: 12 mmHg). Findings indicative of prosthetic stenosis\n\nIn general:\n\n  * Thrombus\n\n    * Sudden dyspnea, new murmur should raise suspicion\n\n    * Presentation acute or subacute\n\n    * Doppler typically reveals elevated transvalvular gradients\n\n    * Cinefluoroscopy very useful for assessment of leaflet mobility\n\n    * Thrombi tend to be mobile, somewhat less echo-dense, and associated with spontaneous echo contrast (SEC or smoke). INR may be subtherapeutic.\n\n  * Pannus\n\n    * Onset generally more insidious; affects mainly mechanical valves\n\n    * Reported as early as 6 months but usually occurs 5\u20136 years post operation\n\n    * In more than 60% of cases variable amounts of thrombus can be found overlying pannus and contribute to the obstruction\n\n    * May encroach into valve orifice and lead to stenosis\/elevated gradients\n\n    * Intermittent valve dysfunction should raise suspicion\n\n    * Ultimately, pannus is a diagnosis of exclusion, and surgical exploration is the gold standard\n\n    * Pannus is highly echogenic, consistent with its fibrous composition, and is usually firmly fixed to the valve apparatus\n\n## 19.5 Other Complications\n\nA.\n\nInfective prosthetic endocarditis\n\nProsthetic-valve infection occurs at some time in 3\u20136% of patients (0.2\u20130.5%\/year all valve types)\n\nEarly endocarditis (occurring less than 60 days after valve replacement) usually results from perioperative bacteremia arising from skin or wound infections or contaminated intravascular devices.\n\nLate endocarditis (occurring more than 60 days after valve replacement) is usually caused by the organisms responsible for native valve endocarditis\n\nVegetations\n\n  * Mechanical valves: sewing rings are commonly affected (unusual on the disc surface).\n\n  * Bioprosthesis: leaflets more than the sewing ring.\n\nB.\n\nPerivalvular leak and valve dehiscence (Fig. 19.5)\n\nFig. 19.5\n\nLong-axis TEE view showing dehiscence of mechanical AV prosthesis from posterior aortic root (arrow) and resulting torrential paraprosthetic aortic regurgitation\n\nDisruption of one or more sutures can affect mechanical and bioprosthetic valves resulting in valve regurgitation\n\nPredisposing factors\n\n  * Endocarditis (should be considered in all patients with valve dehiscence)\n\n  * Marfans syndrome\n\n  * Annular calcification\n\n  * Atherosclerotic roots\n\nC.\n\nHemolysis:\n\nTypically suggests paravalvular leakage due to partial dehiscence of the valve or infection. Patients with a caged-ball valve or with multiple prosthetic valves have an increased incidence and more severe degree of hemolysis than those with tissue valves. It is more common in men and in patients with heart failure. Beta blockers attenuate degree of hemolysis (by reducing the dp\/dt).\n\nLab findings:\n\n  * ? LDH\n\n  * ? Haptoglobin\n\n  * Schistocytosis\n\n  * Reticulocytosis\n\n  * Hemosiderinuria\/hemoglobinuriasis\n\nD.\n\nValve bed abnormalities (pseudoaneurysm, ring abscess)\n\nTEE is superior to TTE for the detection of endocarditis and invasive complications such as paravalvular abscesses, myocardial abscess, pseudoaneurysms, valve dehiscence, or leaflet perforations (Fig. 19.6).\n\nFig. 19.6\n\nShort-axis TEE views at the level of AV prosthesis showing a large loculated abscess with multiple septate cavities (asterisks)\n\n## 19.6 Miscellaneous\/Caveats\n\nA.\n\nMicrocavitation: Not an uncommon finding and needs to be recognized (Fig. 19.7).\n\nFig. 19.7\n\nParasternal long-axis view in a patient with tilting-disk aortic valve prosthesis illustrating microcavitation\/microbubble (Mcav) formation in the LV outflow tract and aortic root (arrows) during valve closure\n\n  * As the local pressure drops below the vapor pressure of the liquid, vapor-filled microbubbles are formed.\n\n  * This phenomenon has been observed only on the tilting disc type and bileaflet valves.\n\n  * No evidence of bubble formation on bioprosthetic valves.\n\n  * Has no clinical implications(benign finding).\n\nB.\n\nPressure Recovery (Fig. 19.8)\n\nFig. 19.8\n\nSchematic explaining the pressure recovery phenomenon. Pressure recovery distal to the aortic valve orifice leads to lower cath-derived gradient (P1\u2013P3) relative to gradient obtained with spectral Doppler (P1\u2013P2)\n\nPressure recovery is the variable increase in lateral pressure downstream from a stenotic orifice. Downstream from the orifice, flow expands and decelerates with a corresponding decrease in kinetic and increase in potential energy, a phenomenon called \"pressure recovery.\"\n\nClinical implications:\n\n  * Aortic pressure measured by cath distal to the orifice (mid ascending aorta) is higher than at the orifice (pressure recovery)\n\n  * Aortic valve gradient measured by catheterization is LOWER than that measured by Doppler (which measures \"unrecovered pressure\")\n\n  * Aortic valve area calculated by catheterization may be \"larger\"\n\n  * Phenomenon more relevant in patients with small or normal (not dilated) roots\n\n  * In prosthetic valves, it is a peculiar feature of bileaflet mechanical valve in the aortic position primarily because of measurement of velocity across the small central orifice that over estimates the pressure gradient.\n\nC.\n\nPatient\u2013Prosthesis Mismatch (PPM)\n\nPPM describes a state in which the effective orifice area (EOA) of a normally functioning heart valve prosthesis is too small in relation to the patient's body size; this situation results in high transvalvular pressure gradients in the setting of a structurally normal valve.\n\nTypically PPM is observed with aortic replacements but may also occur with MV prosthesis.\n\nFor example: A patient with a BSA of 1.3 m2 should get a valve with minimum EOA of 1.1 cm2\n\nMinimal acceptable effective orifice area for AV (where prosthesis\u2013patient mismatch is common) = BSA \u00d7 0.85 cm2 (corresponding value for mitral valve is BSA \u00d7 1.2 cm2)\n\n  * Severe mismatch = EOA of ? 0.6 cm2\/m2\n\n  * Moderate mismatch= > 0.6 ? 0.85 cm2\/m2\n\n  * Mild mismatch = >0.85 cm2\/m2\n\nClinical implications: Patients with severe PPM have\n\n  * ? Functional and exercise capacity\n\n  * ? Regression of LVH\n\n  * ? Recovery of coronary flow reserve\n\n  * Impaired blood coagulation status\n\n  * ? Late mortality\n\n  * ? Adverse cardiac events after AVR\n\nStentless valves provide larger EOA and more favorable hemodynamic profiles compared to their stented counterparts.\n\nReferences\n\n1.\n\nMiller F Jr, Callahan J, Taylor C, et al. Normal aortic prosthesis hemodynamics; 609 prospective Doppler examinations. Circulation. 1989;80(Suppl 2):II-169.\n\n2.\n\nLengyel M, Miller F Jr, Taylor C, et al. Doppler hemodynamic profile in 456 clinically and echo normal mitral prosthesis. Circulation. 1990;82(Suppl 3):III-43.\n\n3.\n\nConnolly HM, Miller FA Jr, Taylor CL, Naessens JM, Seward JB, Tajik AJ. Doppler hemodynamic profiles of 82 clinically and echocardiographically normal tricuspid valve prostheses. Circulation. 1993;88:2722-2727.PubMedCrossRef\n\n4.\n\nNovaro GM et al. Doppler hemodynamics of 51 clinically and echocardiographically normal pulmonary valve prostheses. Mayo Clin Proc. 2001;76:155.PubMedCrossRef63122-4)\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_20\n\n# 20. The Aorta: Diseases of the Aorta\n\nMary C. Corretti1\n\n(1)\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nMary C. Corretti\n\nEmail: mcorre+1@yhmi.edu\n\n## 20.1 Aorta\n\n  * Largest vascular structure in the body\n\n  * Vessels are multicellular, and serve numerous dynamic biologic, physiologic, and anatomic functions\n\n  * Numerous conditions affect the aorta and branch vessels\n\n  * Numerous consequences from various disease processes and environmental exposures.\n\n## 20.2 Anatomy of the Thoracic Aorta\n\n## 20.3 Conditions Affecting the Aorta\n\n  * Atherosclerosis\n\n  * Hypertension\n\n  * Inflammatory diseases\n\n  * Infection\n\n  * Trauma\n\n  * Aortic valve disease\n\n  * Genetic collagen vascular conditions: Marfan's, Ehler's Danlos, Loeys-Deitz, Sinus of Valsalva aneurysm\n\n  * Iatrogenic injury\n\n## 20.4 Aorta-Atherosclerosis\n\n  * Atherosclerotic disease can manifest in the aorta in a variety of ways:\n\n    * Aneurysmal dilitation\n\n    * Atherothrombic plaque\n\n    * Dissection\n\n    * Intramural hematoma\n\n    * Penetrating ulcer in the aortic plaque\/or vessel wall\n\n    * Rupture-transection of the aorta\n\n    * Pseudoaneurysm\n\n## 20.5 Imaging of the Aorta\n\n  * Transthoracic echo exam should include full view of the aortic root, mid ascending aorta, and arch view displaying the upper ascending and proximal descending aorta\n\n  * TEE also provides similar views with exception of the blind spot due to tracheal interference at the level of the aortic arch\n\n  * CT and MRI are gold standards to evaluate the full extent of the aorta and disease processes.\n\nAorta\n\nTransthoracic Suptrasternal Notch View\n\nNormal\n\n  |\n\n---|---\n\nAortic Arch with upper ascending aorta in box view, and branch vessels | Aortic arch with upper descending aorta and branch vessels off the arch\n\nBicuspid Valve and Mid Ascending Aortic Dilitation due to Associated Aortopathy\n\nTransthoracic Parasternal Long Axis View\n\nMarfan's Syndrome\n\nDilated Sinuses of Valsalva-ST Junction\n\nNormal AV\n\nTransthoracic Parasternal Long Axis View\n\n## 20.6 Aortic Plaque\n\n### 20.6.1 General Classification as Noted on TEE\n\n  * Mild: plaque or intimal thickening: ?1 mm\n\n  * Moderate: 2\u20133.9 mm\n\n  * Severe: >4 mm\n\n  * Severe\/complex: ? ?4mm with ulceration and\/or superimposed thrombi\n\nAortic Arch with Severe Atherosclerotic Plaque\n\nTransesophageal Echo View of the Aortic Arch\n\n## 20.7 Classification of Aortic Dissection\n\n  * DeBakey classification\n\n    * Type I \u2013 proximal and descending aorta\n\n    * Type II \u2013 proximal only\n\n    * Type IIIa \u2013 proximal descending\n\n    * Type IIIb \u2013 complete descending and abdominal aorta\n\n  * Stanford classification\n\n    * Type A \u2013 proximal and descending aorta\n\n    * Type B \u2013 descending aorta\n\nAortic Dissection\n\nType A Proximal Aortic Dissection.\n\nCircumferential dissection flap beginning at the ST junction.\n\nDilitation (aneurysm formation) of the mid ascending aorta.\n\nTransesophageal view\n\nAortic Dissection\n\nType B Cross-section of a Descending Aortic Dissection\n\nAortic Dissection\n\nTransesophageal echo view of the arch with color flow Doppler.\n\nAortic Dissection with Thrombus in the False Lumen\n\nTransesophageal Echo View of a section of the descending aorta.\n\nThe aorta is aneurysmal with discrete dissection flap and organized thrombus in the false lumen.\n\n## 20.8 Functional Assessment of Aorta and Other Vascular Structures\n\n  * Numerous imaging modalities to assess vascular structures\n\n  * Various invasive and noninvasive testing modalities offer some degree or aspect of function\n\n  * Vascular function is complex and requires assessment beyond intraluminal occlusion assessment in the over-all evaluation of structure and function in health and disease states.\n\n## 20.9 Vascular Function\n\n  * Ultrasound-evaluations structure and flow assessment\n\n  * Artery tonometry \u2013 noninvasive acquisition of arterial waveforms to measure parameters of arterial stiffness\n\n## 20.10 Pulse Waveform Velocity Analysis\n\n  * Each pulsation of the heart generates a velocity of the pressure wave that is transmitted throughout the peripheral vascular system. The waveform biomechanical properties of the arterial system includes arterial wall stiffness.\n\n  * Ascending aortic pressure waveform can be measured from the carotid artery, femoral artery or radial artery using noninvasive techniques such as applanation tonometry and Doppler ultrasound.\n\n  * The peak systolic pressure is represented by Ps. Pd is the minimum diastolic pressure. An inflection point Pi in the waveform identifies the merging point of the beginning upstroke of the reflected pressure wave. AIx, augmentation index; AP, augmented pressure; Pi, inflection point; PP, pulse pressure.\n\nAortic Pulse Velocity Waveform\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_21\n\n# 21. Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy\n\nAllison G. Hays1  and Aurelio C. Pinheiro\n\n(1)\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nAllison G. Hays\n\nEmail: ahays2@jhmi.edu\n\n## 21.1 Introduction\n\n  * Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM): relatively common genetically heterogeneous disease characterized by myocardial hypertrophy with myocyte disarray and impaired LV performance (Fig. 21.1).\n\nFig. 21.1\n\nHypertrophic obstructive cardiomyopathy. The ventricular septum is markedly thickened\n\n  * HCM is characterized by asymmetric left ventricular hypertrophy typically involving the septum, but may involve other segments.\n\n  * Diagnostic criteria for asymmetric septal hypertrophy on echocardiography: septal thickness >15 mm, and septal to posterior wall ratio >1.3.\n\n  * Asymmetric septal hypertrophy is not pathognomonic for HCM and may be seen in other conditions such as glycogen storage disease.\n\n## 21.2 Patterns of Hypertrophy\n\n  * Anterior portion of LV septum (96%)\n\n  * Basal septum (15%)\n\n  * Concentric variant (1\u20135%)\n\n  * Apical hypertrophic variant (1\u20133%)\n\n  * Midventricular septal variant (1%)\n\n## 21.3 Obstructive Gradients\/Provocative Maneuvers\n\n  * Resting LV Outflow Tract (LVOT) obstruction defined as a peak gradient >30 mmHg.\n\n  * Resting LVOT obstruction in HCM patients has important prognostic value and predicts death and advanced heart failure.\n\n  * Many HCM patients do not have resting LVOT obstruction, and provocative maneuvers should be performed such as amyl nitrite, Valsalva or upright exercise.\n\n  * Mid cavitary or apical cavitary obstruction is not uncommon in rare HCM variants.\n\n## 21.4 LVOT Obstruction: Echocardiographic Features\n\n  * Mid systolic notching\n\n  * Early aortic valve closure\n\n  * Course systolic fluttering of the aortic valve\n\n  * Fibrotic septal changes at the level of leaflet-septal contact\n\n  * Doppler signal across the LVOT: characteristic signal with a late-peaking dagger-shaped appearance\n\n  * Severe obstruction: mid-systolic drop in LV velocity ? characteristic \"lobster claw\" Doppler tracing abnormality\n\n## 21.5 Systolic Anterior Motion (SAM)\n\n  * SAM (Figs. 21.2\u201321.4) of the anterior mitral valve leaflet with or without LVOT gradient is indicative of HCM and with a high specificity (Fig. 21.5).\n\nFig. 21.2\n\nHypertrophic cardiomyopathy. (a) Systolic anterior motion (SAM) of the anterior mitral valve leaflet is shown, contributing to the obstruction of the left ventricular outflow tract. (b) Color flow imaging showing posteriorly- directed mitral regurgitation secondary to SAM\n\nFig. 21.3\n\nApical hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Apical four-chamber view during systole showing markedly increased apical wall thickness\n\nFig. 21.4\n\nContinuous wave Doppler from the left ventricular outflow tract illustrating a late peaking \"dagger-shaped\" signal indicating a dynamic outflow obstruction\n\nFig. 21.5\n\nM-mode echocardiography of the mitral valve (MV) in the parasternal short axis view. Example of systolic anterior motion of the MV leaflet\n\n  * Characterized by mid-late systolic posterolaterally directed mitral regurgitation.\n\n  * Dominant mechanism may be due to hydrodynamic \"drag\" or the pushing force of flow, rather than due do a \"Venturi\" effect.\n\n  * Leaflet elongation and anterior\/inward displacement of papillary muscles also contribute to SAM.\n\n## 21.6 Ejection Dynamics\n\n  * Systolic function typically normal or hyperdynamic.\n\n  * Ejection fraction usually preserved despite significant decrease of longitudinal contractile function as assessed by strain and strain rate.\n\n  * Diastolic dysfunction often present with impaired relaxation.\n\n  * A reduction in chamber compliance, increased stiffness, and heterogeneity of relaxation contribute to diastolic dysfunction.\n\n  * In late stages of the disease, progressive myocardial fibrosis results in impaired systolic function, myocardial thinning and cavity dilation.\n\n## 21.7 Conditions Mimicking HCM\n\n  * Hypertensive heart disease and athletic heart may mimic HCM.\n\n  * Long term exercise training causes LV remodeling and physiologic LVH, making the diagnosis of HCM difficult.\n\n  * The presence of wall thickness ?>12 mm (males) and >11 mm (females) in a trained athlete suggests HCM.\n\n  * In athletic LVH, hypertrophy is symmetric and occurs without diastolic dysfunction.\n\n  * Typically, cessation of exercise (for 6\u20138 weeks) causes 2\u20135 mm regression in wall thickness in athletic LVH but not in HCM.\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_22\n\n# 22. Stress Cardiomyopathy\n\nJacob Abraham1  and Ilan S. Wittstein\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Medicine, Johns Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nJacob Abraham\n\nEmail: ja@jhmi.edu\n\n## 22.1 Stress Cardiomyopathy: Definition\n\n  * Also called Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, transient apical ballooning syndrome, and broken heart syndrome\n\nFig. 22.1\n\nExample of SCM, Apical variant with basal sparing during systole. Diastole (left panel) and systole (right panel) from apical four-chamber view. Note mid-apical akinesis with normal basal wall motion (arrows)\n\nFig. 22.2\n\nExample of SCM with mid-ventricular sparing during systole. Diastole (left panel) and systole (right panel) from apical four-chamber view. Note focal hypokinesis of the mid-ventricle (arrow)\n\nFig. 22.3\n\nExample of SCM, basal variant with basal ballooning during systole. (Diastole (left panel) and systole (right panel) from parasternal long-axis view. Note akinesis of mid and basal segments (arrows))\n\nFig. 22.4\n\nExample of RV involvement during SCM with RV apical dyskinesis. Diastole (left panel) and systole (right panel) from right ventricular inflow view. Note mid-apical hypokinesis of the right ventricle\n\nFig. 22.5\n\nExample of Apical variant SCM with LV mural thrombus (arrow). (Well-circumscribed thrombus (arrow) present at the apex in apical ballooning variant.)\n\n  * Acute heart failure precipitated by sudden, intense emotional or physical stress characterized by:\n\n    * Three distinctive patterns of LV wall motion abnormalities (\"ballooning patterns\") that extend beyond a single coronary artery distribution\n\n    * Recovery in days to weeks\n\n    * Mild troponin elevation despite severe wall motion abnormalities\n\n    * Evolving ECG abnormalities including ST elevation, T-wave inversion, and QT-prolongation\n\n  * Diagnosis is based on clinical criteria and may be difficult to distinguish from myocardial infarction without coronary angiography\n\n## 22.2 Echocardiographic Evaluation of SCM\n\n  * Left ventricular variants\n\n    * Apical\n\n    * Mid-ventricular\n\n    * Basal\n\n  * RV involvement\n\n  * Apical thrombus\n\n## 22.3 Apical Variant (Fig. 22.1)\n\n## 22.4 Mid-Ventricular Variant (Fig. 22.2)\n\n## 22.5 Basal Variant (Fig. 22.3)\n\n## 22.6 RV Involvement (Fig. 22.4)\n\n  * RV involvement in SCM has been associated with greater hemodynamic compromise, longer length of stay, and increased mortality\n\n## 22.7 Apical Thrombus (Fig. 22.5)\n\n  * May be seen with apical variant\n\n  * Recovery of apical wall motion confers high embolic risk\n\n  * Anti-coagulation is recommended as prophylaxis until wall motion recovers\n\nSuggested Reading\n\nElesber AA, Prasad D, Bybee KA, et al. Transient cardiac apical ballooning syndrome: prevalence and clinical implications of right ventricular involvement. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2006;47(5):1082-1083.PubMedCrossRef\n\nHahn JY, Gwon HC, Park SW, et al. The clinical features of transient left ventricular nonapical ballooning syndrome: comparison with apical ballooning syndrome. Am Heart J. 2007;154(6):1166-1173.PubMedCrossRef\n\nWittstein IS, Thiemann DR, Lima JA, et al. Neurohumoral features of myocardial stunning due to sudden emotional stress. N Engl J Med. 2005;352(6):539-548.PubMedCrossRef\n\nWittstein IS. Acute stress cardiomyopathy. Curr Heart Fail Rep. 2008;5(2):61-68.PubMedCrossRef\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_23\n\n# 23. Pericardial Diseases\n\nPartho P. Sengupta1  and Bijoy K. Khandheria\n\n(1)\n\nCardiovascular Division, University of California, Irvine, USA\n\nPartho P. Sengupta\n\nEmail: partho@uci.edu\n\n  * The diagnosis of pericardial effusion was one of the first clinical applications of echocardiography.\n\n  * Transthoracic echocardiography is generally sufficient in the evaluation of patients with pericardial diseases.\n\n  * Transesophageal echocardiography is useful in measuring pericardial thickness, in the evaluation of diastolic function, and in detecting loculated pericardial effusion and other structural abnormalities of the pericardium.\n\nFig. 23.1\n\nCongenital absence of pericardium. 2D echocardiogram of a 53-year-old male patient with an unusual echo window in the absence of thoracic wall deformity. Note the unusual appearance of the heart on standard parasternal window (a) and the need to reach the anterior axillary line for obtaining the apical four-chamber view of the cardiac chambers (b). Diagnosis of congenital absence of pericardium is suspected on X-ray which may reveal prominent pulmonary artery contour and flattened elongated contour of LV apex (snoopy sign) (c) and confirmed by 2D echo and MRI (d). Note the absence of parietal and visceral pericardial coverings and interposed lung tissue between inferior wall of the left ventricle and the diaphragm (d)\n\n## 23.1 Pericardial Effusion\n\n  * Differentiating pleural effusion from pericardial effusion.\n\n  * The potential spaces around the heart when filled with fluid or blood is detected as an echo-free space.\n\n  * Pleural effusion can be distinguished from pericardial effusion by identifying the descending aorta. The descending aorta is anterior to pleural effusion and posterior to pericardial effusion.\n\n  * The reflection of the pericardium around the pulmonary veins tends to prevent collection of pericardial fluid behind the left atrium. Hence an echo-free space behind the left atrium is more likely to be pleural than pericardial effusion.\n\nFig. 23.2\n\nPericardial effusion. The space around the heart when filled with fluid or blood can be seen as an echo-free space (arrows). Note the differences in location of left sided pleural effusion (arrow 1, a\u2013c) and pericardial effusion (arrow 2, d\u2013f)\n\n## 23.2 Loculated Pericardial Effusions\n\n  * Pericardial effusions can be loculated and eccentric, a situation commonly encountered after cardiac surgery.\n\n  * The presence of an anterior echo-free space in the absence of a posterior echo-free space should be interpreted with caution since this may result from a large epicardial fat pad.\n\n  * The conditions resulting in an anterior echo-free space are listed in Table 23.1.\n\nTable 23.1\n\nConditions producing an anterior echo-free space\n\nEpicardial fat pad\n\n---\n\nHernias of foramen of Morgagni\n\nPericardial cyst\n\nPericardial tumors\n\nLeft atrial enlargement\n\nThrombus\n\nMassive ascites\n\nTable 23.2\n\nEchocardiographic artifacts seen in large pericardial effusions\n\nMitral valve prolapse\n\n---\n\nTricuspid valve prolapse\n\nSystolic anterior motion of the mitral valve\n\nEarly systolic closure of the aortic valve\n\nMidsystolic notching of the pulmonary valve\n\nParadoxical septal motion\n\nAttenuated motion of the posterior wall of the aortic root\n\nTable 23.3\n\nPitfalls in the diagnosis of pericardial effusion\n\n1. Excess gain settings may mask a pericardial effusion by \"filling-in\" the echo-free area.\n\n---\n\n2. The presence of left pleural effusion can make the demonstration of a pericardial effusion difficult. A left pleural effusion may be best demonstrated echocardiographically by placing the transducer in the left axillary line.\n\n3. An anterior echo-free space can be produced by an epicardial fat pad or by a homogenous, localized thrombus or by a pericardial cyst. In general, it is unlikely that an anterior clear space results from pericardial effusion in the absence of a posterior effusion.\n\n4. The presence of a loculated effusion can also cause a false-negative diagnosis, unless the pericardial space is examined carefully in different views.\n\nTable 23.4\n\nHemodynamic and echocardiographic features of constrictive pericarditis compared with restrictive cardiomyopathy\n\nFeature | Constrictive pericarditis | Restrictive cardiomyopathy\n\n---|---|---\n\nParadoxical pulse | Present in one-third of cases | Absent\n\nPericardial knock | Present | Absent\n\nProminent Y descent in JVP | Present | Variable\n\nRight and left sided filling pressures | Equalized within 5 mmHg | Left sided pressures at least 3\u20135 mmHg more than right\n\nFilling pressures more than 25 mmHg | Rare | Common\n\nRVSP ?> ?50 mmHg | No | Common\n\n\"Square root\" sign | Present | Variable\n\nRVEDP\/RVSP | ?0.33 | <0.3\n\nDiscordant respiratory variation of ventricular peak systolic pressures | Right and left ventricular peak systolic pressure variations are out of phase | Right and left ventricular peak systolic pressure variations are in phase\n\nPericardial thickness | Usually increased\n\n|\n\nAtrial size | Mild enlargement, usually of the left atrium | Biatrial enlargement, usually severe\n\nVentricular wall thickness\n\n|  |\n\nUsually increased\n\nSeptal bounce | Present | Absent\n\nMitral or tricuspid regurgitation | Usually absent or mild | Often present\n\nRespiratory variation in left\u2013right pressures or flow | Exaggerated\n\n|\n\nMitral inflow | Inspiratory E less than expiratory E (?25% change)\n\nDT usually ?160 ms | No respiratory variation of E velocity\n\nIncreased E\/A ratio ?2.0\n\nDT <160 ms\n\nTricuspid inflow | Inspiratory E greater than expiratory E (?40% change) | Mild respiratory variation in E velocity (?15%)\n\nPulsed wave Doppler of hepatic vein | Decreased diastolic forward flow with expiration\n\nMarked diastolic flow reversal, which increases with expiration compared to inspiration | Systolic forward flow less than diastolic forward flow\n\nDiastolic flow reversal in the hepatic vein is more prominent with inspiration\n\nRVSP right ventricular systolic pressure, RVEDP right ventricular end-diastolic pressure, E early rapid filling wave, A filling wave due to atrial systole, DT deceleration time\n\nFig. 23.3\n\nLoculated pericardial effusions image shows the appearance of anterior (a) and posterior (b) loculated pericardial effusions\n\n## 23.3 Pericardial Deposits\n\n  * Echocardiogram can give clues as to the cause of effusion. Metastatic deposits can be noted on visceral pericardium as echogenic masses in patients with neoplastic pericardial effusion. The presence of fibrinous strands in the pericardial fluid suggest an infective pathology.\n\nFig. 23.4\n\nPericardial deposits. Image showing metastatic deposits on visceral pericardium as echogenic masses (arrows, a and b)\n\n## 23.4 Cardiac Tamponade: Echocardiographic Features of Cardiac Tamponade\n\n  * The presence of an effusion even when large does not indicate its hemodynamic significance.\n\n  * The presence of an effusion must be correlated with the clinical features and other echocardiographic parameters of cardiac filling and transvalvular flow.\n\n  * The earliest echocardiographic sign of hemodynamic compromise is right cardiac chamber diastolic compression, which may precede other signs like pulsus paradoxus.\n\n  * The thinner and more compliant right cardiac chambers manifest the first signs of hemodynamically significant effusion as evidenced by compression of these chambers in diastole when their filling volume is lowest and therefore the effects of the external pericardial constraint are greatest. The signs appear first as right ventricular free wall collapse early in diastole.\n\n  * The right ventricular collapse may be absent despite cardiac tamponade in patients with preexisting elevated right ventricular pressures because of coexisting \u00adpathology. Echocardiographic artifacts and pitfalls seen with large pericardial \u00adeffusions which may confound the interpretation of features of cardiac tamponade are shown in Tables 23.2 and 23.4.\n\nFig. 23.5\n\nCardiac tamponade. Image showing the presence of an effusion (a). The right cardiac chambers manifest the first signs of hemodynamically significant effusion evidenced by compression in diastole when filling volume is lowest and effect of pericardial constraint is maximum appearing first as right ventricular free wall collapse early in diastole (b, arrows)\n\n## 23.5 Transvalvular Flow in Cardiac Tamponade\n\n  * The presence of exaggerated respiratory variation in the transvalvular flow is an important indicator of a hemodynamically significant effusion.\n\n  * In cardiac tamponade the intrapericardial pressure falls substantially less than intrathoracic pressure.\n\n  * The gradient between the pulmonary veins and the left sided cardiac chambers decreases with inspiration, thus reducing early transmitral flow, which on pulsed wave Doppler is seen as decreased early diastolic transmitral velocity. This also results in increased filling during late diastole, with greater dependence on atrial systolic contribution.\n\n  * The corresponding increase in tricuspid valve flow and augmented right heart filling during inspiration further compromises left heart filling through diastolic interactions mediated by the septum. These flow variations correlate with pulsus paradoxus and may precede chamber collapse.\n\nFig. 23.6\n\nIn cardiac tamponade, the gradient between the pulmonary veins and the left sided cardiac chambers decreases with inspiration, thus reducing early transmitral flow seen on pulsed wave Doppler as decreased early diastolic transmitral velocity (a). The corresponding increase in tricuspid valve flow and augmented right heart filling during inspiration (b) is seen\n\n## 23.6 Pericardiocentesis\n\n  * Pericardiocentesis is life saving, but a blind percutaneous pericardiocentesis can result in several complications like pneumothorax, puncture of the cardiac wall, and death.\n\n  * Monitoring pericardiocentesis echocardiographically helps in localizing the fluid, optimal site of puncture, depth of the pericardial effusion, and hence the distance from puncture site to the effusion, thus increasing the patient's safety.\n\n  * Following initial aspiration of pericardial fluid, injection of saline helps creating a contrast echocardiogram, and if the contrast echoes located in the pericardial space are not intracardiac the needle-tip location is confirmed in the pericardial space.\n\nFig. 23.7\n\nPericardiocentesis. Echo helps in localizing the fluid, optimal site of puncture, depth of the pericardial effusion (a). The shaft of the needle is not difficult to see (b), but it is difficult to be certain that the entire needle is being visualized. Following initial aspiration of pericardial fluid (c), injection of saline helps creating a contrast echocardiogram (d)\n\n## 23.7 Pericarditis\n\n  * The echocardiogram may be normal or show thickened parietal and visceral pericardium with either absent or minimal effusion unless pericardial effusion is associated with pericarditis.\n\n  * Transesophageal echocardiogram has higher diagnostic yield than transthoracic echocardiogram in assessing the thickness of pericardial layers with the transgastric view reported to give high-quality images of the pericardium useful in diagnosing chronic pericarditis.\n\nFig. 23.8\n\nPericarditis. Transesophageal echocardiogram is very useful in assessing the thickness of pericardial layers (arrows)\n\n## 23.8 Constrictive Pericarditis\n\n  * M-mode signs reflecting rapid early diastolic filling in constrictive pericarditis.\n\n  * In presence of thickened pericardium, abrupt anterior or posterior motion of the septum in early diastole is seen in most patients with constrictive pericarditis and reflects a rapid change in transseptal pressure gradient during early diastole caused by unusually vigorous early ventricular filling.\n\n  * The left ventricular posterior wall demonstrates a rapid early relaxation with posterior movement during early diastole followed by an abrupt cessation of such movement during mid and late diastole.This flat motion of the left ventricular posterior wall during mid and late diastole corresponds to abrupt transition of rapid ventricular filling in patients with constrictive pericarditis.\n\n  * The net diastolic left ventricular posterior wall endocardial movement posteriorly is less than 1 mm in constrictive pericarditis compared to normal where the posterior wall endocardial posterior movement ranges from 1.5 to 4 mm. The abrupt motion of the septum and posterior wall can be discerned on tissue Doppler imaging in the form of high velocities. The hemodynamic and echocardiographic features of constrictive pericarditis compared with restrictive cardiomyopathy are shown in fig. 23.4.\n\nFig. 23.9\n\nConstrictive Pericarditis. The unusually vigorous early ventricular filling (a, arrow 1), in presence of thickened pericardium and abrupt anterior or posterior motion of the septum in early diastole is seen in most patients with constrictive pericarditis and reflects a rapid change in transseptal pressure gradient during early diastole. The left ventricular posterior wall demonstrates a rapid early relaxation with posterior movement during early diastole followed by an abrupt cessation of such movement during mid and late diastole (b, arrow 2)\n\nFig. 23.10\n\nTissue Doppler and pulsed wave Doppler in constrictive pericarditis. Note the extent of pericardial thickening on cardiac computed tomography (a). An early diastolic mitral annular velocities (E' >8 cm\/s) at lateral or septal mitral annular corner can distinguish constrictive pericarditis from restrictive cardiomyopathy (b). On pulse wave flow Doppler imaging, early diastolic mitral flow is reduced in constriction with the onset of inspiration (c), whereas an increase in mitral inflow early diastolic velocity greater than or equal to 25% occurs with expiration. The pulsed Doppler recording of hepatic venous flow mirrors the right atrial pressure tracing. Pulsed wave Doppler recordings from hepatic vein in constriction (d) show marked diastolic flow reversal, which increases with expiration compared to inspiration, although it is not unusual to see significant diastolic flow reversals during both inspiration and expiration in patients with advanced constriction\n\nFig. 23.11\n\nPericardial masses. Two-dimensional echocardiography can help in identifying pericardial masses. (a and b) This example shows a solid mass in pericardium (arrow) arising from metastatic spread of bronchogenic adenocarcinoma\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_24\n\n# 24. Atrial Septal Defect\n\nNaser M. Ammash1\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Internal Medicine, Mayo Clinic, Rochester, MN, USA\n\nNaser M. Ammash\n\nEmail: ammash.naser@mayo.edu\n\nThe population of adults with congenital heart disease (CHD) is rapidly growing as a result of improvement in diagnostic techniques, medical and surgical expertise. It is estimated that 85% of infants born with CHD survive into adulthood, some of whom have never had any intervention or surgery. This patient population represents a heterogeneous group that includes simple defects such as atrial septal defects, ventricular septal defects, pulmonary stenosis, coarctation of aorta, and complex defects such as Tetralogy of Fallot, Ebstein's anomaly, pulmonary atresia, transposition of the great artery, and univentricular heart. Adults CHD survivors have special needs and require expertise care even after surgical repair since there is usually no cure after repair of CHD and many residua and sequelae are being recognized. The challenges of caring for these adult survivors of CHD can be diagnostic, medical, electrophysiologic, surgical, and psychological. Many of these patients require reoperation that should be performed by surgeons with expertise in that field. The improved outlook for adults with CHD could be best sustained by having adult congenital specialists working in close collaboration with electrophysiologists, cardiac surgeons, cardiac imaging including echocardiography (ECHO), magnetic resonance imaging, computer tomography, as well as obstetricians, psychiatrists, intensivists, transplant service, and medical subspecialists. This multidisciplinary approach toward the care of adults with CHD is the best we can offer for these survivors. This chapter will illustrate the most important echocardiographic features of the common CHD seen before and after repair.\n\n## 24.1 Atrial Septal Defect\n\nAtrial septal defects (ASD) are common CHD seen in adulthood causing left-to-right shunt across the atrial septum with secondary volume overload of the atria and the right ventricle. Both transthoracic (TTE) and transesophageal (TEE) Echos play a very important role in the assessment of these patients before and after surgical or percutaneous closure. In addition to the detection of ASD, Echo assesses the degree of shunting, severity of volume overload, and the presence and severity of pulmonary hypertension, tricuspid regurgitation, and associated CHD most commonly partial anomalous pulmonary venous connection (PAPVC) (Figs. 24.1\u201324.4).\n\nFig. 24.1\n\nDiagrammatic illustration of the different ASD demonstrating the most common septum secundum ASD (1). Please note the location of the defect in middle of the septum as compared to the septum primum ASD (2) in close proximity to the tricuspid valve, sinus venosus ASD in close proximity to the superior vena cava, and the least common coronary sinus ASD in proximity to the coronary sinus and inferior vena cava\n\nFig. 24.2\n\nTEE view (a) obtained at the base of the heart demonstrating a secundum ASD with left-to-right shunt between the left atrium (LA) and the right atrium (RA). In (b), a three-dimensional view of secundum ASD delineating clearly the margins of the defect as compared to the two-dimensional TEE images\n\nFig. 24.3\n\nApical 4 chamber view demonstrating a primum ASD (arrow) in close proximity to the mitral and tricuspid valves (a). On parasternal short-axis view (b and c), a cleft in the anterior mitral valve leaflet is seen associated with mitral regurgitation. Typically, these patients have leaflet anterior fascicular block on electrocardiogram. LA, left atrium; RA, right atrium; LV, left ventricle; RV, right ventricle\n\nFig. 24.4\n\nSinus venosus ASD as noted by TTE (a) and TEE (b). On both studies, note the defect which is superior to the fatty limbus of the atrial septum (AS) and in close proximity to the superior vena cava (SVC). RA, right atrium; LA, left atrium; RAA, right atrial appendage\n\n### Summary\n\n  * ASD are common defects of the atrial septum, leading to left-to-right shunt\n\n  * ASD cause enlargement of the atria and right ventricle and can lead to pulmonary hypertension\n\n  * Imaging of the atrial septum is best done with TEE, as compared to TTE especially in the adult patient\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_25\n\n# 25. Percutaneous Interventions for Congenital Heart Defects\n\nChristian D. Nagy1  , Richard E. Ringel and W. Reid Thompson\n\n(1)\n\nPediatric Cardiology\/Adult Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University Medical Center, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nChristian D. Nagy\n\nEmail: cnagy3@jhmi.edu\n\n## 25.1 Atrial Septal Defect Closure\n\n  * Atrial septal defect (ASD) closure leads to improved functional status, reduces the risk of progressive right-sided failure, and prevents the development of severe pulmonary hypertension or paradoxical embolism.\n\n  * Percutaneous device closure using a number of different devices has become the treatment of choice for secundum ASDs, whereas other types of ASDs are treated surgically.\n\n  * Device closure of ASD is guided by a combination of fluoroscopic and echocardiographic imaging. Intracardiac echocardiography (ICE) is now being used more commonly for adults and transesophageal echocardiography (TEE) employed in special situations and small children.\n\n  * Indications for ASD closure are right heart dilation by echocardiography, MRI, or CT (Qp:Qs >1.5:1) in the absence of advanced pulmonary arterial hypertension.\n\n  * Patients with an ASD too large for device closure, inadequate atrial septal rims to permit stable device deployment, or those with proximity of the defect to the AV valves, the coronary sinus, or the vena cavae are referred for surgical repair.\n\n  * Device closure is a safe and effective procedure in experienced hands, with major complications such as cardiac perforation or device embolization occurring in less than 1% of patients. Successful closure is achieved in up to 95% of patients. Although small residual shunts are often seen on echocardiography at the end of the procedure, these are hemodynamically insignificant, and most will close spontaneously within 1 year.\n\nFig. 25.1\n\nTEE apical 4-chamber view demonstrating a large secundum ASD (a). In Fig. 25.1b the defect has been closed using an Amplatzer septal occluder. Figure 25.1c and d show angiographic correlates. Under TEE guidance, the ASD device is positioned across the interatrial septum and then released\n\nFig. 25.2\n\nTEE view demonstrating a large secundum ASD. In addition to determining the maximal diameter of the defect and total atrial septal length, measurement of the surrounding rims to the aorta, right upper pulmonary vein, superior vena cava, inferior vena cava, mitral valve, and coronary sinus, is warranted in order to assess candidacy for percutaneous closure\n\nFig. 25.3\n\nICE demonstrating ASD closure. In Fig. 25.3a both the left and right atrial disks have been deployed; however the device is still attached to the delivery cable. In Fig. 25.3b the device has been released. Note the septal occluder in stable position, anchored between the aortic rim and the posterior rim\n\n## 25.2 Ventricular Septal Defect Closure\n\n  * In adults, congenital ventricular septal defect (VSD) device closure in the catheterization lab is relatively uncommon, reserved primarily for defects in the apical muscular septum, which are difficult to close surgically.\n\n  * Acquired VSD is a rare, but serious, complication of myocardial infarction occurring in <1% of cases, and mortality is high if untreated.\n\n    * Early surgical cure is difficult, and in selected patients percutaneous closure may be an alternative treatment option.\n\n    * Individuals most likely to benefit from transcatheter VSD occlusion are those with persistent hemodynamic compromise who are medically difficult to manage.\n\nFig. 25.4\n\nApical 4-chamber TTE view (a) demonstrating device closure of a post-myocardial infarction muscular VSD (in this case using an Amplatzer septal occluder) in the apical interventricular septum. In Fig. 25.4b the VSD is visible angiographically and in Fig. 25.4c the defect is closed with the VSD device\n\n## 25.3 Patent Ductus Arteriosus Closure\n\n  * Patent ductus arteriosus (PDA) is a congenital cardiac disorder that can be first identified at almost any age.\n\n  * The clinical implications vary and can include development of heart failure and pulmonary hypertension.\n\n  * Transcatheter techniques have replaced surgical therapy in most patients with PDA and recent advances in echocardiography have resulted in better detection and characterization of PDA and avoiding complications.\n\nFig. 25.5\n\nFig. 25.5a shows the 3-D echo image demonstrating an Amplatzer duct occluder closing a PDA. The larger end faces the aorta and the smaller end is positioned toward the pulmonary artery. Figure 25.5b shows the angiographic correlate. A catheter is positioned in the aorta. The closure device is deployed in the ductus arteriosus and still attached to its delivery cable and the device is released after confirming the position\n\nTable 25.1\n\nStructural heart conditions amenable to percutaneous cath lab interventions\n\nSecundum atrial septal defect\n\n---\n\nPatent foramen ovale\n\nMuscular ventricular septal defect\n\nPatent ductus arteriosus\n\nFenestrated Fontan\n\nAtrial baffle leaks after Mustard\/Senning operation for transposition of the great arteries\n\nAortic to pulmonary artery collaterals\n\nPulmonary arteriovenous malformations\n\nVenous collaterals\n\nCoarctation of the aorta\n\nBranch pulmonary artery stenosis\n\nStenosis of the systemic venous baffle after Mustard operation\n\nBalloon atrial septostomy\n\nPercutaneous balloon valvotomy for pulmonary stenosis\n\nAortic balloon valvotomy for aortic stenosis\n\nMitral balloon valvotomy for mitral stenosis\n\nPercutaneous pulmonary valve implantation\n\nPercutaneous aortic valve replacement\n\nTable 25.2\n\nComparison of different echocardiographic techniques | Transthoracic echocardiogram | Transesophageal echocardiogram | Intracardiac echocardiogram\n\n---|---|---|---\n\nIndications | Cardiac biopsy | ASD\/PFO closure | ASD\/PFO closure\n\n|\n\nSeptostomy | VSD closure\n\n|   \n|\n\nPericardiocentesis | Fenestrated Fontan closure\n\n|\n\nAdvantages | Noninvasive | High sensitivity | No sedation required\n\n|\n\nNo sedation required | Posterior structures well imaged | Inferior atrial septum well imaged\n\n|\n\nAnterior structures well imaged\n\n|  |\n\nDisadvantages | Inconvenient in cath lab | Deep sedation required | Additional venous access required\n\n|\n\nLower resolution of small structures | May compromise airway | Limited visualization\n\n|  |\n\nAnterior structures difficult to assess\n\n|\n\n## 25.4 Summary Box\n\nASD, VSD, and PDA are congenital defects amenable to percutaneous device therapy. Imaging studies such as echocardiography with its various modalities including TTE, TEE, 3-D echo, and ICE play a crucial role in the diagnosis and management of congenital heart disease.\n\nRecommended Reading\n\nMinette MS, Sahn DJ. Ventricular septal defects. Circulation. 2006;114:2190-2197.PubMedCrossRef\n\nMullen MJ, Dias BF, Walker F, et al. Intracardiac echocardiography guided device closure of atrial septal defects. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2003;41:285-292.PubMedCrossRef02616-5)\n\nSchneider DJ, Moore JW. Patent ductus arteriosus. Circulation. 2006;114:1873-1882.PubMedCrossRef\n\nWarnes CA, Williams RG, Bashore TM, et al. ACC\/AHA 2008 guidelines for the management of adults with congenital heart disease. J Am Coll Cardiol. 2008;52(23):e1-121.CrossRef\n\nWebb G, Gatzoulis MA. Atrial septal defects in the adult: recent progress and overview. Circulation. 2006;114:1645-1653.PubMedCrossRef\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_26\n\n# 26. Cardiac Tumors and Masses\n\nMary C. Corretti1\n\n(1)\n\nDivision of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nMary C. Corretti\n\nEmail: mcorret1@jhmi.edu\n\n## 26.1 Categories of Tumors\/Masses\n\n  * Primary benign tumors\n\n  * Primary malignant tumors\n\n  * Intracardiac thrombus\n\n  * Intracardiac vegetations\/infections\n\n  * Degenerative valvular changes creating mass effect\n\n  * Pericardial masses or cysts\n\n  * Normal variants\n\n## 26.2 Cardiac Masses: Benign\n\n  * Myxoma-most common\n\n  * Lipoma\n\n  * Fibroma\n\n  * Valvular \u2013papillary fibroelastoma\n\n  * Hemangioma\n\n## 26.3 Cardiac Masses: Malignant\n\n  * Angiosarcoma \u2013 most common in adults\n\n  * Rhabdomyosarcoma \u2013 more common in children\n\n  * Mesothelioma\n\n  * Fibrosarcoma\n\n  * Lymphoma\n\n  * Leiomyosarcoma\n\n  * Thymoma\n\n## 26.4 Myxoma\n\n  * Comprise the majority of benign intracardiac tumors\n\n  * Usually on a stalk attached to the fossa ovalis (mid portion of the interatrial septum) protruding into the left atrium, or right atrium. They can develop in the ventricules as single masses, or as a multiple presence in the Carney syndrome-genetic defect in the long arm of chromosome 17.\n\n  * Tumor is of mesenchymal origin, appears amorphous, gelatinous and usually mobile on a stalk. Sessile myxomas can also occur.\n\n  * Potential for embolization is high thus requiring surgical removal upon diagnosis.\n\n  * Diagnosis is made often with transthoracic echo and transesophageal echo, if transthoracic echo image quality is limited.\n\n## 26.5 Atrial Myxoma (Fig. 26.1)\n\n## 26.6 Papillary Fibroelastoma: Benign Valvular Tumor\n\n  * Second most common primary benign tumor in the adult\n\n  * Small in size with characteristic stippled or frond-like edge that appears to vibrate in motion at the tumor-blood interface. The tumor emanates from a stalked central core which often arises from a valvular structure (more commonly on the aortic and mitral valves, less so on the tricuspid and pulmonary valves.\n\n  * Potential for embolization is present\n\n### Papillary Fibroelastoma (Fig. 26.2)\n\n### Valvular Papillary Fibroelastoma (Fig. 26.3)\n\n## 26.7 Fibroma (Fig. 26.4)\n\n## 26.8 Sarcoma\n\n  * Most common malignant cardiac tumor in adults, and second to myxomas in frequency though still rare.\n\n  * Derived from mesenchymal cells causing wide array of different histologic types: angiosarcoma, rhabdomyosarcoma, fibrosarcoma, leiomyosarcoma, osteosarcoma.\n\n  * These can be seen as bulky tumors in the chambers, and more so infiltrating the myocardium and pericardium.\n\n## 26.9 Malignant Tumor: Burkitt B Cell Lymphoma (Fig. 26.5)\n\n## 26.10 Mimickers of Cardiac Tumors (Figs. 26.6 and 26.7)\n\n  * Eustachian ridge and Chiari network: Normal variant of an embryologic remnant of the Eustachian valve from the IVC. This is a long mobile string like structure that can attach from the Eustachian ridge (IVC\/RA junction) to the interatrial septum.\n\n## 26.11 Lipomatous Hypertrophy TEE bicaval view\n\n(Fig. 26.8)\n\nFig. 26.1\n\n(a) TEE-midesophageal short axis aortic valve view. Tumor attached to the left atrial side fossa. Ovalis portion of the interatrial septum. (b) TEE-midesophageal bicaval view. Tumor attached to the left atrial side. Interatrial septum\n\nFig. 26.2\n\nPapillary fibroelastoma. Transthoracic short axis view of aortic valve. Round echodense fibroelastoma noted on the right coronary cusp (X)\n\nFig. 26.3\n\nValvular papillary fibroelastoma. Transthoracic parasternal long axis view. Round tumor on a stalk on the aortic side of the aortic valve\n\nFig. 26.4\n\nTransthoracic four chamber view in diastole (left image) and mid systole (right image). Fleshy tumor mass on the proximal ventricular septum\n\nFig. 26.5\n\nMalignant tumor: Burkitt B cell lymphoma. Transthoracic subcostal view. Tumor mass in the right atrium, with infiltration of tumor in the myocardium. Pericardial effusion present\n\nFig. 26.6\n\nMimickers of cardiac tumors. Transthoracic parasternal short axis view. Chiari network \u2013 X\n\nFig. 26.7\n\nIntracardiac thrombus in transit. Transthoracic parasternal short axis view\n\nFig. 26.8\n\nEchogenic fatty tissue along the interatrial septum and sparing the fossa ovalis of the interatrial septum. Dumb-bell shape appearance and echogenicity of the tissue is characteristic of this anatomic variant\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_27\n\n# 27. Cardiac Transplantation\n\nJames Mudd1\n\n(1)\n\nXXXX, yyyy\n\n## 27.1 Ventricular Assist Device\n\n  * Ventricular assist devices (VADs) are placed in the right, and most commonly, the left ventricle to support patients with end stage heart failure.\n\n  * Echocardiography is used to evaluate the following issues with VADs:\n\n    * Apical cannula position\n\n    * Assessment of ventricular unloading\n\n      * Frequency of aortic valve opening\n\n      * Position of the septum:\n\n        * Leftward shift may indicate an under filled left ventricle from excessive unloading or abnormalities with preload.\n\n        * Rightward shift may indicate poor LV unloading due to low pump speed or problems with pump filling.\n\n    * Right ventricular size and function with left sided VAD\n\n## 27.2 VAD: Parasternal Long Axis\n\n  * This view should attempt to show the VAD cannula protruding through the apex (arrow). The purpose of this view is to determine the orientation of the cannula and identify obstruction to blood inflow (clot or tissue).\n\n## 27.3 VAD: Apical Short Axis\n\n  * Much like the parasternal view, this view helps to determine if there is an abnormally aligned cannula or clot, or other debris preventing blood inflow through the cannula.\n\n## 27.4 VAD: Aortic Valve Function\n\n  * Careful examination of the aortic valve with and without color flow Doppler should be performed capturing at least 10 beat in all views.\n\n  * Frequent opening of the aortic valve signals potential insufficient ventricular unloading either from low pump speeds or problems with pump filling.\n\n  * Significant aortic regurgitation may also develop.\n\n  * Continuous aortic regurgitation throughout the cardiac cycle is sometimes seen with an LVAD.\n\n## 27.5 Heart Transplantation\n\n  * Important differences include larger atria and abnormal septal motion as seen after other cardiac surgeries.\n\n  * Most transplanted hearts are anastamosed with a bicaval technique resulting in a slightly larger left atrium and normal sized right atrium.\n\n  * Previous techniques resulted in biatrial enlargment as seen in this image.\n\n## 27.6 Echocardiography in Heart Transplantation\n\n  * Routine echocardiography is used to evaluate for changes in ejection fraction and\/or regional wall motion abnormalities caused by:\n\n    * Cellular or humoral immunologic rejection\n\n    * Transplant associated coronary artery disease\n\n  * Transplant patients may also develop right ventricular dysfunction if there was preexisting pulmonary hypertension.\n\n  * Echocardiography can also be used to guide endomyocardial biopsy to evaluate for rejection.\n\n## 27.7 Heart Transplant Rejection\n\nEvidence of new hypertrophy in a heart transplant patient may be a sign of cardiac rejection as seen in this patient with suspected humoral rejection. The ejection fraction may be preserved, demonstrate regional wall motion abnormalities or diffuse hypokinesis in rejection\n\n## 27.8 Dilated Cardiomyopathy\n\n  * Dilated cardiomyopathy refers to enlargement of the left ventricle and a depressed \u00adejection fraction.\n\n  * Causes:\n\n    * Coronary artery disease\n\n    * Familial\n\n    * Peripartum\n\n    * Viral\n\n    * Idiopathic\n\n    * Sarcoidosis\n\n    * Hemachromatosis\n\n    * Primary valve disease\n\n  * Echocardiography is used to evaluate for:\n\n    * Regional wall motion abnormalities\n\n    * Severity of mitral regurgitation\n\n      * Mitral regurgitation is common in dilated cardiomyopathy typically resulting from stretching of the valve annulus.\n\n    * Presence of apical thrombus\n\n    * Pulmonary hypertension\n\n    * Aneurysm or pseudoaneurysm formation after myocardial infarction\n\n## 27.9 Dilated Cardiomyopathy Mitral Regurgitation\n\nApical four chamber view demonstrating eccentric mitral regurgitation.\n\nDoppler signal demonstrates significant mitral regurgitant velocity\n\n## 27.10 Dilated Cardiomyopathy\n\n### IVC Diameter\n\nThe IVC is often dilated in patients with heart failure and can be used as a metric for volume overload and\/or right heart dysfunction. Lack of respiratory variation is also a sign of venous congestion.\n\n### Ventricular Thrombus\n\nRV thrombus.\n\nPedunculated LV trhombus\n\n## 27.11 Amyloid Cardiomyopathy\n\nAmyloid cardiomyopathy demonstrates significant hypertrophy, depressed left ventricular function. A distinguishing feature is a diminished mitral annular tissue Doppler signal.\n\n## 27.12 Bicaval Orthotopic Heart Transplant\n\n  * The recipient SVC and IVC are anastomosed to the donor heart without altering the size of the right atrium.\n\n  * The recipient pulmonary veins and some surrounding tissue are retained to anastomose to the donor left atrium.\n\n\u00a9 Springer London 2010\n\nTheodore Abraham (ed.)Case Based Echocardiography10.1007\/978-1-84996-151-6_28\n\n# 28. Vascular Imaging\n\nElizabeth V. Ratchford1\n\n(1)\n\nDepartment of Medicine, Division of Cardiology, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, MD, USA\n\nElizabeth V. Ratchford\n\nEmail: eratchf1@jhmi.edu\n\n## 28.1 Introduction\n\nVascular imaging has now become routine in many echocardiography laboratories. With increasing recognition of the systemic nature of atherosclerosis, cardiologists are becoming more involved in imaging outside the heart both for clinical and research purposes.\n\n## 28.2 Outline\n\n1. ?\n\nVascular ultrasound principles\n\n2. ?\n\nCarotid duplex\n\n3. ?\n\nAbdominal aorta ultrasound\n\n4. ?\n\nResearch techniques in vascular imaging\n\n  * Carotid intima-media thickness\n\n  * Brachial reactivity\n\n  * Augmentation index\n\n## 28.3 Vascular Ultrasound Principles\n\n### Vascular Ultrasound: Conventions\n\n  * Several principles and conventions are unique to vascular ultrasound:\n\n  * The Doppler angle is set at 60\u00b0.\n\n  * The head is on the left-hand side of the screen and the feet are to the right.\n\n  * With color flow, red is for arteries and blue is for veins.\n\n  * Flow towards the transducer is positive; flow away from the transducer is negative.\n\n### Vascular Ultrasound: Techniques\n\n  * All sampling should be done at an angle of 60\u00b0 or less (between the beam and the flow direction or vessel wall).\n\n  * The sample volume should be at the center of the vessel and should be set as small as possible.\n\n  * The cursor should be parallel to the vessel wall.\n\n### Vascular Ultrasound: Diagnostic Criteria\n\n  * In any given artery, a doubling of the peak systolic velocity (PSV) on spectral Doppler generally indicates more than 50% stenosis.\n\n  * Percent stenosis refers to diameter reduction.\n\n    * For example, 50% diameter reduction is equivalent to a 75% area reduction.\n\n  * The velocity in the area of stenosis (or just distal to the stenosis) is typically compared to a normal, more proximal portion of the artery.\n\n  * In general, diagnosis is based on velocity criteria and the presence or absence of plaque.\n\n  * While there are published criteria, each vascular laboratory is must establish and then internally validate its own velocity criteria.\n\n## 28.4 Carotid Duplex\n\n### Indications for Carotid Duplex (Fig. 28.1)\n\n  * Carotid bruit\n\n  * Amaurosis fugax\n\n  * TIA\/Stroke\n\n  * Follow-up of known stenosis or post-stent or post-CEA\n\n  * Syncope\n\n  * pre-CABG (controversial)\n\n### Carotid Duplex Protocol\n\n  * Look for presence or absence of plaque\n\n  * Note morphology of the plaque\n\n    * Calcified (echogenic) or echolucent or heterogeneous\n\n  * Degree of stenosis\n\n    * Based on spectral Doppler (angle-corrected)\n\n      * A quantitative measurement of hemodynamic changes\n\n    * Parameters include: peak systolic velocity (most important), end-diastolic velocity, and ICA\/CCA ratio\n\n      * Spectral broadening \u2013 evidence of turbulence\n\n      * ICA\/CCA ratio: peak systolic velocity in the ICA divided by the velocity in the distal CCA measured 2 cm proximal to the bifurcation.\n\n### Sample Carotid Diagnostic Criteria\n\nDiameter reduction | Peak systolic velocity (cm\/s) | ICA\/CCA ratio\n\n|   \n---|---|---|---\n\nNormal | <105 | <1.8 | No plaque\n\n1\u201339% | <105 | <1.8 | Plaque imaged\n\n40\u201359% | 105\u2013159 | <1.8\n\n60\u201379% | ?160 | 1.8\u20133.7\n\n80\u201399% | ?240 (EDV ? 135) | >3.7\n\nEDV end-diastolic velocity, ICA internal carotid artery, CCA common carotid artery\n\n### B (\"Brightness\" Mode): Useful for Plaque Analysis (Fig. 28.2)\n\nFig. 28.1\n\nColor Doppler image of the carotid bifurcation\n\nFig. 28.2\n\nAn 8\u201311 MHz linear transducer is typically used to image the carotid artery. This image illustrates plaque in the bifurcation\n\n### Color Doppler (Fig. 28.3)\n\nFig. 28.3\n\nLeft; Color Doppler image of the stenosis at the bifurcation. Right; Color Doppler image of the stenosis in the proximal ICA\n\nColor Doppler is useful for detecting areas of turbulence to help localize stenosis.\n\n### Waveform Morphology (Figs. 28.4 and 28.5)\n\nFig. 28.4\n\nThe spectral Doppler waveform in the internal carotid artery (left) is typical of a \"low resistance\" vessel with more diastolic flow. The waveform in the external carotid artery (right) is \"high resistance\" with minimal diastolic flow\n\nFig. 28.5\n\nThe spectral Doppler waveform in the common carotid artery (left) shares features of both the internal and external carotid arteries which are downstream. The waveform in the vertebral artery (right) is \"low resistance\" with more diastolic flow similar to the internal carotid artery\n\n### ECA Versus ICA (Fig. 28.6)\n\nFig. 28.6\n\nIn addition to the characteristic waveform morphology, several features help to distinguish the external carotid artery (ECA) from the internal carotid artery (ICA): (1) the ECA is typically smaller; (2) the ECA has branches (left); (3) oscillations can be seen in the ECA when the temporal artery is tapped, referred to as the \"temporal tap\" (right)\n\n### Vertebral Artery Waveform in Subclavian Steal (Fig. 28.7)\n\nFig. 28.7\n\nSubclavian stenosis is suspected in a patient (most commonly asymptomatic) with a differential in brachial pressures of more than 12\u201315 mmHg. Retrograde flow may be seen in the vertebral artery (as shown here) in the presence of subclavian stenosis which is termed \"subclavian steal.\" If accompanied by symptoms such as syncope or vertigo, it is referred to as \"subclavian steal syndrome\"\n\n### Carotid Stenosis (Fig. 28.8)\n\nFig. 28.8\n\nThis image illustrates 80\u201399% stenosis of the proximal internal carotid artery with a peak systolic velocity of 286.9 cm\/s; the ICA\/CCA ratio was 4.4. Turbulence is seen on color Doppler and spectral broadening is seen in the spectral Doppler waveform\n\n## 28.5 Abdominal Aorta Ultrasound\n\n### Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm (AAA)\n\n  * The abdominal aorta is easily imaged in the echo lab and can be seen with the cardiac transducer.\n\n  * A curvilinear convex (2\u20134 MHz) transducer is preferred.\n\n  * The patient must fast for 6\u20138 h prior to the exam to limit the interference of bowel gas.\n\n### AAA\n\n  * In general, an aneurysm is defined as an increase in the diameter of any artery that is 1.5 times normal.\n\n  * For example, the abdominal aorta is normally 2 cm in diameter, and AAA is defined as an aortic diameter greater than 3 cm.\n\n### Aortic Ultrasound (Fig. 28.9)\n\nFig. 28.9\n\nAortic measurements are obtained in both transverse (left; 5.9 cm aneurysm) and longitudinal (right; normal aorta) views. It is common to see plaque or thrombus within an aneurysm (left)\n\n### Aorta Protocol\n\n  * Transverse AP (anterior-posterior) and longitudinal AP measurements as well as spectral Doppler waveforms should be obtained:\n\n    * In the proximal aorta near the superior mesenteric artery\n\n    * In the mid aorta near the renal arteries\n\n    * In the distal aorta near the bifurcation\n\n    * In the bilateral common iliac arteries\n\n  * Normal aortic velocities are <100 cm\/s\n\n## 28.6 Research Techniques in Vascular Imaging\n\n  * Carotid intima-media thickness\n\n  * Brachial reactivity\n\n  * Augmentation index\n\n### Carotid Intima-Media Thickness\n\n  * Carotid Intima-Media Thickness (CIMT) measurement is a non-invasive ultrasound technique used most commonly in the assessment of subclinical atherosclerosis.\n\n  * Increased CIMT correlates well with cardiovascular risk.\n\n  * Sensitive and reproducible; protocols vary.\n\n### CIMT\n\n(Fig. 28.10)\n\n  * Once the CIMT measurement is obtained, it must be compared to an appropriate reference population depending on the protocol.\n\n  * Specialized \"edge-detection\" software and three-lead EKG monitoring for gated images are recommended.\n\n  * For further reference on CIMT, see the Consensus Statement of the American Society of Echocardiography (Stein et al., J Am Soc Echocardiogr. 2008).\n\nFig. 28.10\n\nThe best method is to obtain R-wave gated images of the far wall of the distal common carotid artery. An example of CIMT measurement is shown here\n\n### Brachial Reactivity\n\n  * Brachial reactivity testing is used to measure endothelial function, a response referred to as \"flow-mediated dilatation\" (FMD).\n\n  * A blood pressure cuff is inflated to approximately 250 mmHg for 5 min and then rapidly released to induce reactive hyperemia; dilatation of the brachial artery occurs in response to shear stress.\n\n  * High-frequency ultrasound images of the brachial artery are gated to the R wave of the QRS complex.\n\n  * Reduced flow-mediated dilatation (FMD) is thought to be a sign of endothelial dysfunction and correlates with cardiovascular risk.\n\n### Augmentation Index\n\n  * Augmentation Index (AI) is a surrogate measure of systemic arterial stiffness.\n\n  * AI tends to be negative in young people, zero at approximately 35 years of age, and positive thereafter.\n\n  * Applanation tonometry may be employed at the radial artery to derive an ascending aortic pressure waveform.\n\n  * The AI is calculated as the difference between the first and second systolic peaks of the ascending aortic pressure waveform.\n\n  * The central pulse pressure is the systolic pressure minus the diastolic pressure.\n\n  * The AI is expressed as a percentage of the central pulse pressure.\n\nIndex\n\nA\n\nAbdominal aortic aneurysm (AAA)\n\nAmerican Society of Echocardiography Guidelines 2003\n\nAmyloid cardiomyopathy\n\nAorta\n\nabdominal\n\natherosclerosis disease\n\nconditions affecting\n\nfunctional assessment\n\nimaging\n\nthoracic\n\nvascular function\n\nAortic dissection\n\nclassification\n\nthrombus, false lumen\n\ntransesophageal echo view\n\ntype A proximal\n\ntype B cross-section\n\nAortic plaque\n\nAortic pulse velocity waveform\n\nAortic regurgitation\n\netiologies of\n\ngrading and assessment\n\nAortic stenosis\n\netiologies of\n\ngrading severity\n\nlow gradient and low output\n\nAortic valve\n\npathology\n\nprosthesis\n\npulse Doppler measurement\n\nAortic valve area (AVA)\n\nAsymmetric septal hypertrophy\n\nAtherosclerotic disease\n\nAthlete's heart, left ventricular hypertrophy\n\nAtrial myxoma\n\nAtrial septal defect (ASD) closure\n\nICE\n\nlarge secundum ASD, TEE view\n\nAtropine\n\nAttenuation\n\nAugmentation index (AI)\n\nAV optimization protocol\n\nAxial resolution\n\nB\n\nBall-cage prosthesis\n\nBeam characteristics\n\nBicaval orthotopic heart transplant\n\nBicuspid aortic valve\n\nBileaflet mitral prosthesis\n\nBioprosthetic valves\n\ncharacteristics\n\ntricuspid valve replacement\n\nBiplane method of disks\n\nBiplane Simpson method\n\nBurkitt B cell lymphoma\n\nC\n\nCardiac masses and tumors\n\nbenign\n\nBurkitt B cell lymphoma\n\ncategories\n\nfibroma\n\nlipomatous hypertrophy TEE bicaval view\n\nmalignant\n\nmimickers\n\nmyxoma\n\npapillary fibroelastoma\n\nsarcoma\n\nvalvular papillary fibroelastoma\n\nCardiac optimization\n\nAV optimization\n\nPV optimization\n\nscheduling requirements\n\nVV optimization\n\nCardiac tamponade\n\nechocardiographic features\n\ntransvalvular flow\n\nCardiomyopathy\n\namyloid\n\nconstrictive vs. restrictive\n\ndilated\n\ncauses\n\nechocardiography\n\nIVC diameter\n\nmitral regurgitation\n\nventricular thrombus\n\nhypertrophic cardiomyopathy ( see also Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy)\n\nasymmetric septal hypertrophy\n\ncharacteristics\n\nconditions mimicking\n\ndiagnostic criteria\n\nejection dynamics\n\nLVOT obstruction\n\npatterns\n\nprovocative maneuvers\n\nstress cardiomyopathy\n\napical thrombus\n\napical variant\n\nbasal variant\n\ncharacteristics\n\ndiagnosis\n\nechocardiographic evaluation\n\nmid-ventricular variant\n\nRV involvement\n\nCarotid Duplex\n\ncolor doppler\n\nECA vs. ICA\n\nindications\n\nplaque analysis\n\nprotocol\n\nsample diagnostic criteria\n\nstenosis\n\nsubclavian stenosis\n\nwaveform morphology\n\nCarotid intima-media thickness (CIMT)\n\nCarotid stenosis\n\nCinefluoroscopy\n\nCircumferential strain profile\n\nClicks\n\nColor-coded tissue Doppler (TDI) imaging\n\nColor flow Doppler imaging\n\nColor flow imaging\n\nColor M-mode flow propagation velocity\n\nComprehensive Doppler assessment\n\nright ventricle echocardiography\n\nright ventricle hemodynamics\n\nCongenital heart defects (CHD)\n\natrial septal defect closure\n\npatent ductus arteriosus closure\n\nventricular septal defect closure\n\nConstrictive pericarditis\n\nvs. restrictive cardiomyopathy\n\ntissue and pulsed wave Doppler\n\nventricular filling\n\nContinuous wave (CW) Doppler\n\nContrast agents\n\nadministration methods\n\ndefinition\n\nFDA recommendations\n\nindications, clinical practice\n\nroutine study\n\nsafety\n\nstress\n\ntechniques, problems, and solutions\n\nin use\n\nContrast echocardiography\n\nD\n\n2DE. See Two-dimensional echocardiography\n\n3DE. See Three-dimensional echocardiography\n\nDeBakey aortic dissection classification\n\nDefinity\n\nDiastole phases\n\nDiastolic dysfunction\n\nechocardiographic parameters\n\ncolor M-mode flow propagation velocity\n\nmitral inflow velocities\n\nmorphologic and functional \u00adcorrelations\n\npulmonary vein inflow velocities\n\ntissue Doppler velocities\n\nleft atrium (LA)\n\nand left ventricular filling pressures\n\npatient evaluation\n\ndifferential diagnosis and subtypes\n\nelevated filling pressures\n\ngrading\n\nphysiology\n\nDiastolic dyssynchrony measurement\n\nDiastolic function\n\nDilated cardiomyopathy\n\ncauses\n\nechocardiography\n\nIVC diameter\n\nmitral regurgitation\n\nventricular thrombus\n\nDobutamine\n\nDoppler-derived strain rate\n\namplitude\n\nmagnitude\n\nvelocity gradient\n\nDoppler echocardiography\n\n2D strain speckle tracking\n\nDynamic left ventricular outflow tract obstruction\n\nE\n\nEccentricity index, right ventricle assessment\n\n2D echocardiography\n\n3D echocardiography\n\nExternal carotid artery (ECA)\n\nF\n\nFibroma\n\nFlow-mediated dilatation (FMD)\n\nFrame rate\n\nFrequency\n\nG\n\nGlobal LV systolic function\n\nGrading diastolic dysfunction\n\nH\n\nHeart failure with normal ejection fraction (HFnlEF)\n\ncauses\n\npatient evaluation\n\ndifferential diagnosis and subtypes\n\nelevated filling pressures\n\ngrading\n\nHeart transplantation\n\nechocardiography\n\ntransplant rejection\n\nHemolysis\n\nHypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM)\n\nasymmetric septal hypertrophy\n\ncharacteristics\n\nconditions mimicking\n\ndiagnostic criteria\n\nejection dynamics\n\nLVOT obstruction\n\npatterns\n\nprovocative maneuvers\n\nsystolic anterior motion\n\napical hypertrophic cardiomyopathy\n\nleft ventricular outflow tract\n\nmitral regurgitation\n\nmitral valve leaflet\n\nI\n\nImaging artifacts\n\nrange ambigity\n\nreverberation\n\nshadowing\n\nside lobes\n\nsuboptimal images\n\nInfective prosthetic endocarditis\n\nInternal carotid artery (ICA)\n\nInterventricular dyssynchrony\n\nIntraoperative transesophageal echocardiography, 107\n\nadjuvant procedure during mitral valve surgery\n\naortic valve pathology\n\nintraoperative diastolic function assessment\n\nmajor vessels\n\nmid-esophageal bicaval view\n\nmid-esophageal level\n\nmitral valve pathology\n\nprosthetic valves\n\nL\n\nLeft atrial pressure (LAP)\n\nLeft atrium (LA)\n\nLeft ventricular dyssynchrony\n\nalgorithm\n\nechocardiographic techniques\n\nmeasuremnet\n\npitfalls\n\nresynchronization\n\nLeft ventricular ejection fraction (LVEF)\n\nLeft ventricular end diastolic pressure (LVEDP)\n\nLeft ventricular opacification (LVO)\n\nLeft ventricular (LV) quantification\n\ndirect 2D methods\n\nmass calculation\n\nM-mode dimensions\n\npathologic vs. physiologicl LVH\n\nsystolic function\n\nvolumetric assessment\n\nwall thickness\n\nLeft ventricular systolic function\n\nglobal\n\nregional\n\nLength-area volumetric method\n\nLevovist\n\nLoculated pericardial effusion\n\nLongitudinal resolution\n\nLVEF. See Left ventricular ejection fraction\n\nM\n\nMechanical dyssynchrony assessment\n\ndiastolic dyssynchrony\n\ninterventricular dyssynchrony\n\nleft ventricular\n\nmeasurement\n\nresynchronization\n\nROC curve analysis\n\n4-segmental model\n\n12-segmental model\n\nTDI curve\n\nMechanical prosthetic valves\n\nacoustic shadowing\n\ncharacteristics\n\nMicrocavitation\n\nMid-esophageal view, TEE\n\nartifact\n\nfour chamber\n\nleft atrial appendage\n\nlong axis\n\npulmonary artery\n\npulmonary valve\n\nright ventricular outflow tract\n\nshort axis\n\ntwo chamber\n\nMitral inflow velocities\n\nMitral prolapse regurgitation\n\ncolor Doppler jet area assessment\n\nfluid dynamics and measurement\n\nmechanisms of\n\nmultiple mechanisms of\n\nnormal anatomy\n\nqualitative and quantitative parameters\n\nquantitative measures\n\nvena contracta\n\nMitral stenosis\n\nDoppler assessment\n\nechocardiographic features\n\nplanimetry\n\nrecommendations for classification\n\nMitral valve\n\nanatomy\n\nassessment\n\nnormal\n\nreal time 3D echocardiography.\n\nscallop\n\npathology\n\nprolapse\n\nprosthesis\n\nMitral valve area (MVA)\n\nM-mode echocardiography\n\nModified Simpson biplane method\n\nMotion-mode echocardiography\n\nMyocardial deformation\n\nMyocardial perfusion (MCE)\n\nMyocardial relaxation\n\nMyocardial stiffness\n\nMyxoma\n\nN\n\nNoninvasive hemodynamic assessment\n\nmitral regurgitation velocity\n\nM-mode cursor\n\nnormal and abnormal relaxation patterns\n\npulmonary to system blood flow ratio\n\npulmonary vascular resistance\n\npulse Doppler, aortic valve\n\nstroke volume calculation\n\nNyquist limit\n\nO\n\nOne cycle\n\nOptison\n\nP\n\nPannus vs. thrombus\n\nPapillary fibroelastoma\n\nPatent ductus arteriosus (PDA) closure\n\nPathological left ventricular hypertrophy\n\nPatient-prosthesis mismatch (PPM)\n\nPeak systolic pressure\n\nPericardial effusion\n\ndiagnosis, pitfalls\n\nechocardiographic artifacts\n\nleft atrium\n\nloculated\n\nmetastatic deposits\n\npericardium, congenital absence\n\nvs. pleural effusion\n\ntransesophageal echocardiography\n\nPericardiocentesis\n\nPericarditis\n\nconstrictive\n\nvs. restrictive cardiomyopathy\n\ntissue and pulsed wave Doppler\n\nventricular filling, 291\n\ntransesophageal echocardiogram\n\nPerivalvular leak and valve dehiscence\n\nPlanimetry\n\nmitral stenosis assessment\n\nmitral valve area measurement\n\nPoint of maximal intensity (PMI)\n\nPressure half-time method\n\nPressure recovery\n\nProsthesis malfunction\n\nprosthetic aortic valve evaluation\n\nprosthetic mitral valve evaluation\n\nprosthetic valve regurgitation\n\nprosthetic valve stenosis\n\npulmonic prosthetic valve\n\ntricuspid prosthetic valve evaluation\n\nProsthetic valve echocardiograms\n\ncolor flow Doppler\n\n2D echo\n\nspectral Doppler\n\nProsthetic valves\n\naortic\n\nbio\n\ncharacteristics\n\nmechanical\n\nmitral\n\npulmonary\n\ntricuspid\n\nProximal isovelocity area (PISA) method\n\nPulmonary artery systolic pressure\n\nPulmonary capillary wedge pressure (PCWP)\n\nPulmonary valve prosthesis\n\nPulmonary vascular resistance (PVR)\n\nPulmonary vein inflow velocities\n\nPulmonic regurgitation\n\nDoppler parameters\n\nDoppler signal\n\nPulmonic stenosis (PS)\n\ncongenital\n\netiologies of\n\nPulsed wave (PW) Doppler\n\nPulsed wave tissue Doppler imaging\n\nPulse waveform velocity analysis\n\nPV optimization protocol\n\nQ\n\nQuantitative hemodynamic measurements\n\nR\n\nReal-time 3D echocardiography (RT3DE)\n\nexamination strategy\n\nmitral valve anatomy\n\ntransthoracic and transesophageal\n\nvolumetric assessment of left ventricular\n\nRegional LV systolic function\n\nscoring system\n\n16-segment model\n\nRelative wall thickness (RWT)\n\nResolution\n\nReverberation artifacts\n\nRheumatic mitral stenosis\n\nRight atrial pressure (RAP)\n\nRight ventricle echocardiography\n\nadvanced echocardiographic variables\n\ncomprehensive Doppler assessment\n\n2D echocardiographic variables\n\neccentricity index\n\nfractional area change\n\nsystolic dysfunction\n\nthree-dimensional echocardiography\n\ntricuspid annular plane systolic excursion (TAPSE)\n\nvolumes and ejection fraction\n\nS\n\nSarcoma\n\n4-Segmental model\n\n12-Segmental model\n\nShadowing artifact\n\nSide lobes artifact\n\nSonoVue\n\nSound\n\ndefinition\n\ninteractions with tissue\n\nSpeckle tracking, 64\u201365\n\nSpectral Doppler\n\nStanford aortic dissection classification\n\nStenotic mitral valve\n\nStrain imaging\n\nStrain rate profile\n\nStress cardiomyopathy (SCM)\n\napical thrombus\n\napical variant\n\nbasal variant\n\ncharacteristics\n\ndiagnosis\n\nechocardiographic evaluation\n\nmid-ventricular variant\n\nRV involvement\n\nStress echocardiography\n\ncontraindications\n\ndobutamine\n\nindications\n\ninterpretation\n\nmonitoring requirements\n\nmyocardial viability\n\nperformance\n\npurpose\n\nside effects\n\ntermination criteria\n\nvisual assessment\n\nStruts\n\nSubclavian stenosis\n\nSubvalvular aortic stenosis\n\nSupravalvular aortic stenosis\n\nT\n\nTakotsubo cardiomyopathy. See Stress \u00adcardiomyopathy\n\nTAPSE. See Tricuspid annular plane systolic excursion\n\nTDI. See Tissue Doppler imaging\n\nThoracic aorta\n\nThree-dimensional echocardiography (3DE)\n\napical window\n\n3D display\n\n3D orientation\n\nparasternal window\n\nright ventricle assessment\n\nTissue Doppler imaging (TDI)\n\ncolor-coded\n\ndyssynchrony analysis\n\npulsed wave\n\nwall motion\n\nTissue Doppler velocities\n\nTissue synchronization imaging\n\nTissue velocity\n\ninterrogation\n\nnomenclature\n\nTransducer\n\ndefinition\n\nflow in\n\nTransesophageal echocardiography (TEE)\n\naortic root\n\naortic valve\n\nascending aorta\n\nindications\n\nanterior leaflet mass\n\nanterior mitral valve leaflet mass\n\nmitral regurgitation\n\nmitral valve anterior leaflet\n\ntype I aortic dissection\n\ntype III aortic dissection\n\ninteratrial septum\n\nintraoperative\n\nadjuvant procedure during mitral valve surgery\n\naortic valve pathology\n\nintraoperative diastolic function assessment\n\nmajor vessels\n\nmid-esophageal bicaval view\n\nmid-esophageal level, 104\n\nmitral valve pathology\n\nprosthetic valves\n\nleft superior pulmonary vein\n\nmid-esophageal view\n\nartifact\n\nfour chamber\n\nleft atrial appendage\n\nlong axis\n\npulmonary artery\n\npulmonary valve\n\nright ventricular outflow tract\n\nshort axis\n\ntwo chamber\n\nmitral valve\n\npitfalls\n\npulmonary valve, biplane imaging\n\nsmall secundum ASD\n\ntransgastric views\n\nbiplane view\n\ninferior vena cava\n\nleft ventricle\n\nopen tricuspid valve\n\nright ventricular inflow and outflow\n\ntricuspid valve\n\nTransthoracic echocardiogram\n\nTransthoracic real-time 3D echocardiography\n\ndensity settings\n\nmodes of acquisition\n\nTricuspid annular plane systolic excursion (TAPSE)\n\nTricuspid regurgitation (TR)\n\necho parameters\n\netiologies of\n\nTricuspid stenosis\n\nTricuspid valve prosthesis\n\nTwo-dimensional echocardiography (2DE)\n\napical four-chamber view\n\nparasternal long axis right ventricular inflow view\n\nparasternal short axis view\n\nright ventricular inflow view, 222\u2013223, 226\n\nsubcostal four-chamber view\n\nTwo-dimensional speckle tracking-derived strain measurement\n\nU\n\nUltrasound\n\napical views\n\ncontrast agents\n\nadministration methods\n\ndefinition\n\nFDA recommendations\n\nindications, clinical practice\n\nroutine study\n\nsafety\n\nstress\n\ntechniques, problems, and solutions\n\ndefinition\n\nechocardiographic windows\n\nimage optimization\n\ninferior vena cava view\n\nparasternal short axis view\n\nparasternal windows\n\nright ventricular inflow view\n\nsubcostal views\n\nsuprasternal window\n\ntransducer\n\ntypes of resolution\n\nvascular imaging\n\nabdominal aorta, 8\u20139, 338\n\ncarotid Duplex ( see Carotid Duplex)\n\nconventions\n\ndiagnostic criteria\n\ntechniques\n\nUnicuspid aortic valve\n\nUniplane method of disks\n\nV\n\nValve bed abnormalities\n\nValvular papillary fibroelastoma\n\nVascular imaging\n\naugmentation index\n\nbrachial reactivity\n\ncarotid intima-media thickness\n\nultrasound\n\nabdominal aorta, 8\u20139, 338\n\ncarotid Duplex ( see Carotid Duplex)\n\nconventions\n\ndiagnostic criteria\n\ntechniques\n\nVelocity gradient\n\nDoppler-derived strain rate\n\nstrain rate measurements\n\nVena contracta, mitral prolapse regurgitation\n\nVentricular assist devices (VADs)\n\naortic valve function\n\napical short axis\n\nechocardiography\n\nparasternal long axis\n\nVentricular septal defect (VSD) closure\n\nVolumetric assessment of left ventricular\n\nbiplane method of disks\n\nlength-area method\n\nreal-time 3D echocardiography\n\nuniplane method of disks\n\nVV optimization protocol\n\nW\n\nWavelength\n\nWave truncation\n","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}
+{"text":"\n\nRiptide Publishing\n\nPO Box 1537\n\nBurnsville, NC 28714\n\nwww.riptidepublishing.com\n\nThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only.\n\nA Summer Soundtrack for Falling in Love\n\nCopyright \u00a9 2018 by Arden Powell\n\nCover art: Shayne Leighton, parliamentbookdesign.wordpress.com\n\nEditor: Carole-ann Galloway\n\nLayout: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com\/design.htm\n\nAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com, or at marketing@riptidepublishing.com.\n\nISBN: 978-1-62649-852-5\n\nFirst edition\n\nOctober, 2018\n\nAlso available in paperback:\n\nISBN: 978-1-62649-853-2\n\nABOUT THE EBOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED:\n\nWe thank you kindly for purchasing this title. Your nonrefundable purchase legally allows you to replicate this file for your own personal reading only, on your own personal computer or device. Unlike paperback books, sharing ebooks is the same as stealing them. Please do not violate the author's copyright and harm their livelihood by sharing or distributing this book, in part or whole, for a fee or free, without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner. We love that you love to share the things you love, but sharing ebooks\u2014whether with joyous or malicious intent\u2014steals royalties from authors' pockets and makes it difficult, if not impossible, for them to be able to afford to keep writing the stories you love. Piracy has sent more than one beloved series the way of the dodo. We appreciate your honesty and support.\n\nWhen Kris Golding leaves his dusty Kansas hometown for a fresh start in New York, he thinks an apartment and a job are waiting for him. But when he finds neither, rather than admit defeat, he takes his chances busking\u2014and meets Rayne Bakshi of international rock band The Chokecherries. Rayne needs a new guitarist, and gives Kris his first break since leaving home.\n\nRayne wears makeup and glitter and thinks nothing of kissing Kris in front of twenty thousand screaming fans for the attention. Instantly infatuated, Kris begins to question whether he might have a crush on Rayne\u2014could he be bisexual? But since Kris originally claimed to be straight, Rayne's wary of getting involved offstage.\n\nAs their tour gains momentum, Kris's sexuality becomes the least of his troubles. Between his conservative brother hell-bent on \"rescuing\" him from his life of debauchery, a peacock that may or may not be the avatar of a cult god, and a publicity stunt that threatens to upend the band, Kris is definitely not in Kansas anymore.\nFor all the bands I've ever loved.\n\nAbout A Summer Soundtrack for Falling in Love\n\nTour Schedule\n\nChapter 1\n\nChapter 2\n\nChapter 3\n\nChapter 4\n\nChapter 5\n\nChapter 6\n\nChapter 7\n\nChapter 8\n\nChapter 9\n\nChapter 10\n\nChapter 11\n\nChapter 12\n\nChapter 13\n\nChapter 14\n\nChapter 15\n\nChapter 16\n\nChapter 17\n\nChapter 18\n\nChapter 19\n\nChapter 20\n\nChapter 21\n\nDear Reader\n\nAcknowledgments\n\nAlso by Arden Powell\n\nAbout the Author\n\nMore like this\n\nJune 12: Hershey, PA\u2014Hersheypark Stadium\n\nJune 13: Camden, NJ\u2014BB&T Pavilion\n\nJune 14: Newark, NJ\u2014Prudential Center\n\nJune 15: Charlottesville, VA\u2014John Paul Jones Arena\n\nJune 17: Grand Rapids, MI\u2014Van Andel Arena\n\nJune 18: Indianapolis, IN\u2014Bankers Life Fieldhouse\n\nJune 20: Orlando, FL\u2014Amway Center\n\nJune 21: Sunrise, FL\u2014BB&T Center\n\nJune 22: Tampa, FL\u2014Amalie Arena\n\nJune 23: Birmingham, AL\u2014Legacy Arena\n\nJune 24: New Orleans, LA\u2014Smoothie King Center\n\nJune 25: Dallas, TX\u2014American Airlines Center\n\nJune 26: The Woodlands, TX\u2014Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion\n\nJune 27: Austin, TX\u2014Austin360 Amphitheater\n\nJune 29: Phoenix, AZ\u2014Talking Stick Resort Arena\n\nJune 30: Salt Lake City, UT\u2014Vivint Smart Home Arena\n\nJuly 1-6: Purple Sage Music Fest, NV\n\nKris Golding wasn't the kind of person to fly across the country without a plan. His was foolproof, or at least fool resistant\u2014but, like most plans, was quickly crushed by circumstances outside his control. When his plane took off from Kansas, he was content in the knowledge that he had a job and a couch, if not an apartment, waiting for him. By the time he touched down in New York, everything had gone terribly wrong.\n\n\"What do you mean she kicked you out?\" he asked his cousin as patiently as he could. The cell connection was choppy as he stepped off the bus in Manhattan after two hours on public transport.\n\n\"Well it's her place, right?\" Marty said, his voice wheedling over the line. \"It's her name on the lease. So when she found out about me and Maria, she called it quits. Threw all my stuff out in a garbage bag on the street.\"\n\n\"Wait, who's Maria?\"\n\n\"Somebody I work with at the club.\"\n\n\"The club where you said you had a job lined up for me,\" Kris clarified.\n\n\"Yeah, man, but I got fired today.\"\n\n\"What? Why?\"\n\n\"Cuz Maria, she's the owner's girl\u2014\"\n\nKris held the phone away from his ear to keep from throwing it into traffic. He took a deep breath before returning it to hearing range.\n\n\"So I don't have a job,\" he said, cutting off whatever his cousin had been saying. \"And your boss won't introduce me to his music-industry guys.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, man, the timing, it's just\u2014\"\n\n\"And I don't have a place to stay.\"\n\nMarty made a helpless noise.\n\n\"Great. That's amazing. Thanks.\"\n\n\"Hey, I'm in the same boat, okay? You could be a little more sympathetic.\"\n\nKris ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket.\n\n\"Well fuck,\" he said, to no one in particular. He slung his duffel bag of worldly goods over his shoulder, his guitar case secure on his back, and set off into the streets of New York to figure out what to do next.\n\nThe misfortune of his situation didn't detract from New York's beauty, even as his nerves started to gnaw at him. The whole city looked glittering and pulsing with possibility\u2014the place where dreams came true. The buildings loomed high, scraping the clouds in endless panels of polished glass. Sure, everything was huge and impressively daunting, but Kris hadn't come all the way out here to admit defeat, no matter how intimidating the city proved.\n\nHe had two hundred dollars in his bank account and a pocketful of loose change. It was barely enough to buy a plane ticket home, but his parents would spring him one if he asked. He would work in his dad's garage to pay them back, and he'd have to keep his tail between his legs for the rest of his life because the one time he'd tried to get out and make something of himself, he'd come crawling back barely six hours later. His parents could be as supportive as they liked, but it wouldn't change the fact that he'd tried and failed. And then there was his brother, Brad, who had told him New York was a bad idea.\n\n\"What's wrong with Kansas?\" Brad had demanded. \"You can make an honest living here. All those big-shot music-industry guys you look up to, they've never done a real day's work in their lives. There's nothing but freaks in that line of work, Kris. You're better off steering clear.\"\n\nKris couldn't bear Brad's smug face if he went back defeated.\n\nIf he had to be homeless, at least the weather was good. The June air was warm, the bits of sky he could see between the buildings were blue, and the sun was aggressively bright, like it had something to prove. There were a few hours left before sunset, and even if it cooled down overnight, he had a coat in his bag. He could weather it. He had enough money to stay at a hostel, but only for a night, and he was loath to spend more than he had to. Two hundred dollars and change wouldn't stretch far. No, he would sleep on a bench, and scour the streets for any hiring signs. He could work retail or fast food; he could find a shelter or a friendly couch to crash on until he'd saved enough for a place of his own. He wasn't going to wind up freezing to death on a street corner, gnawed on by rats, as soon as the season changed. He was going to get a job, and he would be fine.\n\nIt wasn't a great plan, but it was something.\n\nHe started walking.\n\nOne problem in applying for jobs was that they wanted an address on the application form. The bigger stores did background checks Kris couldn't pass without a permanent residence, and if they didn't, they weren't hiring anyway. The smaller shops didn't offer more than a few hours a week, and unless he wanted to juggle three conflicting schedules, he'd never make enough to feed himself, let alone get an apartment. His desperation mounted as store after store turned him away, leaving his stomach a knot of anxiety and his palms itching with sweat.\n\nHe ended up on a bench at the edge of Central Park watching the pigeons. They were fearless in the way rural birds never were, flashing their colors and strutting back and forth. They quickly determined that he had nothing of value to offer, and ignored him in favor of accosting passing pedestrians for crumbs. Rejected by one of the lowest of the city's inhabitants\u2014though a step up from the rats\u2014Kris again weighed his options.\n\nHe still couldn't go home.\n\nInstead, he texted his parents to tell them he'd landed safely, and he'd call them in a few days once he got settled. He was safe, after all; he might be close to panic, but they didn't have to be. He was an adult and he could look after himself. In theory, anyway. He had a bottle of water from the plane, an apple, and a granola bar. His nerves were like a guitar string wound up too tight and liable to snap at any second, and that put a damper on his appetite; what he had would last him till morning.\n\nHe settled in for a night on the bench. It wasn't the most comfortable place he'd ever been, but he couldn't say it was the worst, either. He didn't want to lie down in case someone recognized him for a vagrant and called the cops. If he looked like he was just resting a moment, or waiting for someone, he should be fine. He was dressed well enough. No one could tell that he didn't have anywhere else to go.\n\nHe crunched through his apple, more for something to do than out of hunger. It tasted sour, but it kept him awake. The sky slipped into pink as the sun sank behind the buildings, lighting them up in a warm glow as it passed. Kris couldn't hate the city. He had chosen New York partly because his cousin was here\u2014working for a guy who had so many connections in the music industry that Marty had sworn he could set Kris up with a gig in no time\u2014but mostly because it was as far from rural Kansas as he could imagine. He loved his parents and he loved his town, but it had been stifling. He didn't want to work in his dad's garage until he was sixty. He might not know exactly what he did want to do with his life, but he was determined to find out.\n\nSo far he was finding out that park benches were uncomfortable, and city pigeons were more intimidating than any bird had the right to be.\n\nAs the sun went down and the crowds thinned, Kris wrapped himself in his coat and prepared for a long night. The smaller shops locked up for the night as the streets finally emptied. The moon blinked out between the buildings but the stars stayed hidden behind the haze of clouds and the solid blocks of skyscrapers. He paced for a bit, exploring the park with a measured gait, his hands in his pockets as he tried to keep his blood moving. When he couldn't stop his feet from dragging or his eyes from closing, he found another bench and huddled down to roost again.\n\nIt didn't get cold, exactly, but it got cool, and the hours dragged into eternity and back. He drifted off once or twice, but the park was never fully deserted and he didn't trust that he'd wake up to find his bags still on him. He wouldn't particularly miss his clothes if the duffel bag got stolen, but his guitar\u2014he couldn't bear the thought of losing that, even if Marty had lost him his chance at a career with it.\n\nHe watched the sun rise from the wrong side of the morning for the first time since he was a teenager. The sky lightened in strips: silver, then pale yellow, before making room for blue. The pigeons cooed and rustled their wings, waking one by one and then all at once, and the subways rumbled underground, a constant churning noise. Straightening, he stretched his back until it gave a satisfying crack, and shuffled to his feet. The coffee he bought from a street vendor was black and bitter, and he was ready to shoot the caffeine straight into his veins if he had to. He was tired in a way that made everything feel thin and slightly unreal, like the world was hidden behind a film he could see through, but couldn't quite part.\n\nAfter his first swallow, he crossed out of the park to the nearest caf\u00e9, busy enough in the morning rush that he could slip into the washroom unnoticed. As he splashed cold water over his face, he hoped he didn't look too haggard. He could stretch it another day before needing to shave; his stubble always took a while to show through, and he was fair enough that it never gave him much of a five-o'clock shadow anyway. Coffee in hand, he returned to his bench, sipping the drink and trying to make it last.\n\nToday he would find somewhere to work. Twenty hours a week in retail might not be his dream of making a living off his music, but it would be better than nothing. He wasn't going to sleep on the bench again.\n\nThe pigeons looked skeptical.\n\nHe flipped them off and resumed drinking his coffee. The caffeine hit him like a ton of bricks, slamming into him all at once and setting his heart kicking behind his ribs. He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers. It was a drastic way to start the morning, but he was definitely awake now. The film separating him from reality peeled back and left him blinking into the sun like a newborn fawn, all wobbly-legged and uncertain.\n\nFind a job, he told himself. Take the first one you can. This isn't rock-bottom. This isn't even close.\n\nAll he had to do was wait for the stores to come back to life. Most would probably open around nine\u2014it was just past dawn. He had a few hours to kill. The coffee place across the road wasn't hiring, but maybe he could find a record shop or a music store that needed help.\n\nHe took out his guitar.\n\nHe couldn't say why he did it. There was no conscious thought behind the action. It was like the hand of some divine entity had reached down from the clouds and prodded him, right between the eyes, and said, Hey, you. Play me something. Music had always been like that for him, talking to him the way gods spoke to prophets: in the pure, undiluted language of the universe.\n\nHis guitar was a big acoustic thing, the wood polished until it glowed warm and gold. He'd bought it from a pawnshop for fifty bucks when he was thirteen; it had taken him all year to save up his allowances for it. In high school, he'd used to dream about his band making it big and playing in Madison Square Garden. It had been a couple of guys from his year and his little sister on drums. It fell apart before graduation and he'd put that particular dream aside, but he'd thought he could try his hand as a session musician, if nothing else. All he needed was one lucky break to get his foot in the door. He wouldn't call himself a prodigy, but he was good, and even if he'd never left Kansas to seek his fortune in the industry, he would have kept playing for himself.\n\nAs he tuned his guitar by ear, he ghosted his fingers over the frets, and gave it a strum. The chords rang out clear and true, and he drew in a deep breath as his nerves started to knit themselves together again.\n\nBack home he had played in front of live audiences, albeit small ones\u2014barbeques or house parties or just sitting out on the porch with his family in the summer evenings, strumming out chords overtop of the crickets. He had never busked before, though; his hometown was too small for it, and he'd never been as desperate for quick money as he was now. Easing into a bluegrass riff, half-remembered and half-invented, he kept his eyes down as he played. The song petered out after a few minutes, finding its natural ending like bluegrass always did, and he let the city eke back into his consciousness.\n\nSomeone tossed a crumpled bill into the case at his feet, and he smiled reflexively at the young woman who vanished back into the crowded street. He took a swig from his coffee and adjusted the guitar in his lap. Maybe one more song wouldn't hurt. One more song, and then he would start looking for music shops in the area.\n\nBy 9 a.m. he had thirty dollars in his case and a steady stream of attention from the park's passersby. By ten he had as much as he would have made from a day's work at any minimum-wage gig. His fingers ached and he was so hungry his stomach nearly drowned out the music with its complaints, but no one had yelled at him for loitering, and the pigeons hadn't tried to make away with his money. He couldn't stop smiling.\n\nHe laid his guitar down in the nest of bills and loose coins and closed his case. The little gathering he'd attracted gradually wandered off, one or two people pressing a last offering into his hand as they left. It was only when the path was clear that he noticed the one man who had yet to depart, leaning against the broad trunk of a tree, his arms crossed as he watched Kris unabashedly.\n\nKris tucked his last few bills in his pocket, raised his brows, and met the man's gaze head-on. In response, the man peeled himself from the tree and approached. He was tall, dark, and handsome, almost ridiculously so, with legs that went on for miles, and a wild mane of deep brown hair that stopped just above his shoulders. He was dressed all in black, chic rather than goth, his shirt open at the collar to reveal a hint of tattoos against the brown skin of his chest.\n\n\"Hi there,\" the man said. He slung his hands in his pockets and smiled, bright and easy. \"I was watching you play\u2014you're amazing.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Kris said. \"It wasn't a planned performance, but these things happen.\"\n\n\"Do you mind if I sit? I'm Rayne. Rayne Bakshi.\" Rayne offered a hand. He wore a ring on nearly every finger, and when Kris took it, his grip was warm and firm. He had a little mercury tattoo on the base of his left thumb.\n\n\"I was about to go find some food, but sure,\" Kris said. His stomach whined but he ignored it. There was something about the man that demanded his full attention, and a tingly feeling swept through Kris's veins, suggesting he was perched on the edge of something momentous. He didn't get that feeling very often; it felt careless to disregard it, especially in so strange a time as this. \"I'm Kris.\"\n\nRayne grinned and slid onto the bench beside Kris. \"I'll be quick,\" he promised. \"I wanted to ask you about your music, if you have a second.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Kris said. Up close, he could make out a smattering of freckles across Rayne's nose.\n\n\"You've been out here for hours. Are you a busker?\"\n\n\"I'm between jobs,\" Kris said. \"Technically.\"\n\n\"Are you a professional musician?\"\n\n\"Not exactly. I was a mechanic. The stars didn't align when I tried to change tracks, so now I'm . . . whatever will have me, I guess. It's kind of a long story.\"\n\n\"But you'd like to be? A professional musician, I mean. I happen to need a guitarist, and here you are, so.\"\n\nKris stared at him. Rayne stared back. His eyes were the color of sea glass, a perfectly clear, pale green, startlingly light against the rest of his features. His eyelashes were unreasonably long. His face held no trace of insincerity; Kris must have misheard him.\n\n\"Sorry?\"\n\n\"Also a long story. Do you like burgers? There's this great place a few blocks over\u2014it's a bit early, but let me buy you brunch, and we'll talk.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Kris said slowly.\n\n\"No pressure,\" Rayne assured him. \"But the food is really good.\"\n\nKris's stomach howled like a coyote, right on cue. \"Burgers sound great.\"\n\nHe wasn't one to turn down a free meal, especially not now with his money situation being what it was, but more than that, he was intrigued. Hope sparked in his chest; maybe he hadn't lost his chance after all.\n\nKris let Rayne carry his duffel bag, counting on him not to make a run for it. Rayne kept up a steady stream of chatter as they walked, which Kris, sleep-deprived and overcaffeinated, mostly tuned out. It didn't seem to matter to Rayne whether Kris joined in; he was perfectly capable of carrying the conversation by himself, which Kris appreciated. As the streets grew busier, Rayne slipped through the crowds like a fish, with Kris floundering in his wake.\n\nWhen Rayne had said \"burger place,\" Kris had not pictured anything like the restaurant Rayne took him to. It was long, with ambient lighting and private booths lining the walls. The entire back wall was an aquarium; the fish inside shimmered and flickered back and forth, lit up in purple and green. It was classier than any burger joint Kris had ever seen, and he faltered as he walked in. The rest of his body was preoccupied with getting fed, and didn't care about his insecurities. Rayne seemed oblivious on all counts, and led him to a secluded booth without letting up his one-sided conversation. Kris slunk in after him, trying to avoid eye contact with the staff. At the table, he stuttered as he read over the menu before settling on an innocuous-sounding cheeseburger and fries, and tried not to look at the cost. Unless they hand-reared the cows themselves, there was no reason for the prices to be so high. Rayne ordered a veggie burger with a salad, and returned the menus to the waitress with a smile that had the girl blushing and scurrying to the kitchen.\n\n\"So I have this band,\" Rayne said, twirling his straw between his fingers. \"And due to unfortunate circumstances involving a lot of heroin and some even worse life choices, our guitarist is out of commission.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Don't be. His mom had to call us to explain that he's in rehab\u2014a week before we leave for tour. Don't get me wrong,\" Rayne added, \"I'm glad he's getting help, but his timing leaves a lot to be desired. Anyway.\" He took a sip of his water. \"Don't do heroin.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Kris said. \"No, that wasn't high on my list. When you say band\u2014\"\n\n\"The Chokecherries,\" Rayne said, as if that clarified anything.\n\nIt sounded vaguely familiar, but not enough to bet on.\n\n\"We've been auditioning people for the past six days, but no one's worked out yet. The label's threatening to send a session musician on tour with us, which would be fine, but only as a last resort. We're a band; we should have chemistry, you know?\"\n\n\"Right,\" Kris agreed. \"Of course. How popular exactly is your band?\"\n\nThe waitress arrived with their plates, blushing furiously again and unable to meet Rayne's eye. Rayne smiled like he was used to it, thanking her before she fled the scene. Rayne was attractive enough to cause that kind of reaction anyway, but Kris suspected he might actually be famous. Kris filed that away to deal with after eating. His cheeseburger was huge, nearly the size of the plate, and his mouth flooded with drool the second he smelled it. He chomped down a fry before returning his attention to Rayne, who looked amused.\n\n\"We're international,\" Rayne said. \"Where are you from?\"\n\nKris's breath caught for a second before he swallowed. International was a lot bigger than Marty's club owner could have offered. \"Kansas. I don't think I know The Chokecherries.\"\n\nRayne took a bite of his burger. He didn't seem in the least offended. \"Do you want to?\"\n\n\"I'll be honest with you: I don't have a lot else going on right now.\"\n\nRayne flicked through his phone for a second before handing it to Kris, who reluctantly set his burger aside. There was a video on screen, waiting for him to press Play.\n\n\"We have two albums out now,\" Rayne said. \"Our second went platinum; we're heading out on tour the day after tomorrow. The shows are already sold out. All we need is a guitarist.\"\n\nKris frowned and pressed Play. He could tell the music was good right away: the production quality was high, the guitar slick, and the bass throbbing. The band was dressed in leather jackets, torn jeans, and bright T-shirts, caught halfway between punk and impossible glamour. Their instruments caught the studio lights and flashed them around; their hair gleamed; and their makeup demanded attention. But it was the vocals that stood out above everything else, twining through the music, perfectly on key. Kris couldn't catch any hint of auto-tune on the track, but no one had that kind of range anymore, not since Mercury. The Rayne in the video closed his kohl-lined eyes and purred into the mike, his fingers wrapping around the stand as he sang about a satisfaction just out of reach.\n\n\"That drumbeat is really familiar,\" Kris said. \"I think my sister listens to you.\"\n\n\"Then she has good taste. So? Are you interested?\"\n\nAs the video ended and the screen went dark, Kris put the phone back on the table. The Chokecherries were a far cry from his old high school band, in aesthetic and musical talent both. They looked like a pantheon of young gods, and Kris was wearing a flannel shirt and worn-out converse sneakers. They also sounded different than any contemporary band he'd heard in a long time, seductive and aggressive all at once. Rayne sat across the table, watching him with an impossibly hopeful expression.\n\n\"I feel like this is a weird lucid dream or something,\" Kris said. \"Maybe I fell asleep out there after all.\"\n\n\"What can I say to convince you you're awake?\" Rayne asked. \"Actually\u2014what can I say to convince you to play guitar for us, too?\"\n\n\"For real?\"\n\n\"I watched you play for an hour this morning. You're miles beyond anyone we've auditioned so far.\" Rayne leaned forward, his hands folded before him on the table. He looked so earnest that Kris squirmed under the attention, and then immediately pretended he hadn't. \"You've got talent, Kris. Real, raw talent, the kind most people practice lifetimes to get close to. Whatever you want, I can give you\u2014just audition for my band.\"\n\n\"Whatever I want,\" Kris echoed dumbly. His day couldn't be more surreal if one of the fish leaped out from the tank and offered him three wishes.\n\n\"Fame? You got it. Money? I promise, we will get you a really nice contract. You want to travel? Meet your favorite band? Whoever it is, we can swing it, I guarantee.\" Rayne drummed his fingers against the table. His rings glinted in the low light of the restaurant. His nails were painted black, matte and immaculate. \"Whatever it takes to get you to drop everything else, I will make sure you get it.\"\n\nKris's head spun and he held up one hand. Rayne's mouth snapped shut instantly, and Rayne waited, all ears, for Kris's bargain.\n\n\"You pretty much had me at the burger,\" Kris said. \"Even if I had something else to drop, this is\u2014 You're serious? You want me in your band?\"\n\nRayne broke into a broad grin. \"I can keep buying you burgers, if that's all it takes. I can buy you a burger every single day. Ultimately, it's up to our manager to accept new members, so this isn't a legally binding arrangement just yet, but I think you could be the one.\"\n\n\"You might have to switch it up with pizza like, once a week or so. I wouldn't want to get sick of them.\" Kris ate another fry to give his heart a chance to return to normal speed. \"You don't even know me, though. You just saw me playing on a bench. I could be anybody.\"\n\n\"I can tell you're not a junkie; I've gotten pretty good at reading those signs, unfortunately. Am I wrong?\"\n\n\"No, I'm not into drugs.\"\n\n\"Are you an ax murderer?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Cultist?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Republican?\"\n\n\"God, no.\"\n\n\"Then I'm not going to worry too much,\" Rayne said. \"Tell you what\u2014we've got a private show tonight, before we hit the road. If you're interested, come meet the rest of the band, audition and charm our manager, play with us, then sleep on it. Okay?\"\n\n\"About that,\" Kris said, carefully studying the sesame seeds on his burger bun. \"Sleeping on it.\"\n\n\"I know it's short notice, but it's just a little show. We're only playing covers, so you don't even have to learn our songs.\"\n\n\"No, I mean, I'm kind of technically homeless? At the moment? So I don't really have anywhere . . . to sleep. As it were.\" Kris bit his lip and glanced at Rayne.\n\nRayne looked at him for a long moment, his expression intrigued. \"You did say it was a long story,\" he said eventually.\n\n\"On the plus side, it doesn't involve heroin?\" Kris offered. He tried to drink his water too quickly and nearly choked.\n\n\"How about we finish eating and you tell me all about it,\" Rayne suggested.\n\nKris shoved the rest of the burger in his mouth and nodded. \"So I have this cousin . . .\"\n\n\"I've never auditioned for a band before,\" Kris said. \"I played with some guys in high school, but we were just messing around. You guys are legit.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but unless you try to murder our manager or start spouting conspiracy theories about the music industry to the people who sign our checks, you'll be fine.\" They were sitting side by side in the back of a sleek black cab that matched Rayne's outfit as if it had been hand-picked for that reason. He smiled reassuringly at Kris from across the seat. \"Just play like you were doing back in the park, okay? You've got this.\"\n\nKris nodded. His stomach twisted itself into knots and set itself on fire. He fidgeted, lacing his fingers together and undoing them again. Rayne reached over and patted his knee. The touch sent sparks zinging up and down Kris's leg, and while it did nothing to loosen the Gordian knot inside him, he tried to leach a little comfort from it anyway.\n\nHe hadn't been this nervous when he'd planned to audition for that club owner, but there was something distinctly different between that imagined scenario and going to meet an actual international band. Kris didn't know The Chokecherries; he wasn't suddenly terrified of meeting his idols. This was just a bunch of musicians getting together to play some music\u2014and if they didn't like him, he'd go back to sleeping on the streets and begging for loose change to keep from starving to death. Or, somewhat less drastically, he'd go back home to live with his parents again. It was a totally no-pressure deal. Rayne had only met him an hour ago, and he believed in him. Kris could do this.\n\n\"You look like you expect them to eat you alive,\" Rayne said. \"They probably won't. Being a cannibal is on that same list as ax murderer and Republican, you know. Breathe.\"\n\nKris nodded and curled around Rayne's borrowed phone. Tucking his earbuds in, he skimmed through the music collection. He passed playlists of foreign music, their titles long and with more syllables than he was used to, as well as lists of more familiar punk and indie bands, before he found The Chokecherries. As they headed out of Manhattan to the studio in Queens, he focused on memorizing their singles. Kris watched every video, running through the playlist from start to finish, studying the faces until he could recognize all the band members at a glance. Rayne stood out first and foremost, with dark makeup on his eyes and glitter on his cheekbones, his nails black as he played with the mike cord. There was something dangerous about his stage persona that Kris couldn't see in real life\u2014something dark and predatory that made Kris's stomach flip, half-excited and half-terrified. Rayne could be an entirely different species, he was so far removed from anyone back home. Beside him, Rayne drummed his fingers against the door in a soundless beat.\n\nThe rest of the band was just as captivating. A Japanese girl with ashy hair played keyboards, her eyes and lips and nails all painted gold, her expression never wavering as her hands flew over the keys. On drums, a black dreadlocked man sat shirtless, tattoos dancing over his body as he moved like they were alive. Bass was taken by a slight, dark-haired figure nearly vibrating with energy, wielding the instrument like a weapon. And last\u2014there: the former guitarist who had landed Kris the opportunity in the first place. He was tall and lean, almost gaunt. Kris couldn't tell he was a junkie just from looking at him, but makeup could cover a multitude of sins. The man kept his eyes down, either rapt in the music or a million miles away.\n\nKris's gaze flickered back and forth between the Rayne on screen and the one beside him, trying to reconcile the two. It was disorienting, but no more so than the rest of Kris's time in New York so far. He could roll with it.\n\nThe songs slipped from sultry to sexual to aggressively upbeat and back again, and no matter what Rayne did with his voice, Kris wanted more. He didn't try to focus on the guitar just yet. Instead, he let the music wash over and through him as he tried to figure out what the band was all about.\n\nThey weren't going to eat him alive. They weren't. Rayne wouldn't let them.\n\nKris took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let himself imagine being someone famous. He rekindled his old fantasy and pictured a sold-out crowd at Madison Square Garden, the heat from the stage lights, a roar of adulation\u2014nothing between him and the oblivion of a million screaming fans but his guitar.\n\nHe opened his eyes and tugged one earbud out to dangle around his neck. \"Rayne? I don't have an electric guitar.\"\n\nRayne glanced over. \"You can play one though, right?\"\n\n\"Sure, but I can't afford one unless your record label wants to give me an advance on signing.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll get you one this afternoon.\"\n\nKris's mouth went dry. \"Business expenses?\"\n\n\"It's all budgeted in,\" Rayne assured him. \"Don't worry about a thing. I got you.\"\n\nThe studio was a little building with a burly security guy at the door, who seemed to be doing his best to come across as a more intimidating feature of the brickwork. He nodded to Rayne and looked Kris up and down with an impressively impassive expression. Kris waved.\n\n\"This is Butch,\" Rayne said. \"He's our guard dog.\"\n\n\"Hi, Butch,\" Kris said.\n\nButch sighed. \"Get inside, Bakshi. They're waiting on this big surprise you said you had.\"\n\n\"Please don't say that's me,\" Kris whispered as Butch held the door for them.\n\n\"That's you! Hey guys, look what I've got!\"\n\nThe Chokecherries turned their heads as one.\n\n\"Is it a guitarist?\" the bassist asked.\n\n\"Got it in one! Everybody, this is Kris. Kris, this is everybody.\"\n\nThe band let out a chorus of hellos as they crowded near, inquisitive and smiling. Rayne caught Kris's hand and tugged him over to meet them halfway.\n\n\"This is Maki, Stef, Lenny, and Brian,\" Rayne introduced. \"Maki on keyboards, Stef on bass, and Len on drums. Brian's our manager. Guys, Kris is going to audition for guitar. I picked him up off the street and promised him none of you are cannibals.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" Kris greeted. He offered them an awkward wave, his other hand still trapped in Rayne's, which no one was commenting on. \"For the record, I never actually thought anyone was a cannibal, but it's nice to know for sure.\"\n\nThe band was less intimidating in real life than they were in the videos. They were dressed casually, hair down, without the flashy stage makeup. Stef wore a pair of thick-framed hipster glasses and a beanie. Everyone was in jeans and T-shirts. Only Brian, the manager, looked skeptical, his arms crossed as he eyed Kris over the tops of his glasses.\n\n\"You picked him up off the street,\" Brian said. \"Rayne . . .\"\n\n\"He just arrived in the city! Listen to him play before you judge me for adopting strays.\"\n\nBrian sighed and dropped his arms. \"It's not strays I'm worried about, it's getting involved with another Fink. Kris? You want to play us something?\"\n\n\"Fink?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"The last guy,\" Rayne supplied.\n\n\"Right.\"\n\nKris slipped away from Rayne, missing his warmth immediately\u2014there was comfort in having his hand held, but he needed to focus\u2014and took his guitar out. He slung the strap over his shoulder, fiddled with the tuning one more time just to have something to do, and shifted on his feet.\n\n\"So what do you want to hear?\"\n\n\"Whatever you want,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"Anything but 'Wonderwall,'\" Stef said. \"If you play 'Wonderwall' I'm vetoing Rayne's vote to bring you in.\"\n\n\"You don't have veto power,\" Rayne said, \"and we're only pretending this is a democracy.\"\n\n\"Ignore them,\" Brian cut in. He had a patient, long-suffering air about him that must have come from wrangling rock stars all day. \"Play anything.\"\n\nKris nodded, blew out his breath, and played.\n\nAs he played, everything else stopped. He didn't worry about money or employment or how his future hung on this one audition: there was nothing in his head but the music. His hands flew over the frets, the strings biting into his fingertips with every touch, and the music swelled to fill the studio with a rich, heavy sound.\n\n\"That's ours!\" Rayne exclaimed as Kris moved into the chorus. \"Did you learn that in the car ride over?\"\n\n\"It's not perfect,\" Kris said, letting the notes peter out. \"I didn't have time to memorize it; there are bits I had to make up as I went along.\"\n\n\"But you got all that by ear in forty minutes,\" Rayne said.\n\nKris shrugged. \"I guess?\" he offered sheepishly.\n\nHe transitioned to a seventies medley of Bowie, Queen, and T. Rex, and Rayne flung his arm around Brian's shoulders, beaming ear to ear. \"We can keep him, right?\"\n\n\"He's not high and he's not jonesing,\" Brian said reluctantly. \"I can tell that much just from looking. Kid? You got any bad habits we should know about? Anything likely to interfere with the band?\"\n\nKris shook his head, hugging his guitar like a shield.\n\n\"You know I wouldn't take that kind of risk this close to the tour,\" Rayne said. \"We're desperate, not suicidal. I've got a good feeling about him, Brian.\"\n\nBrian grunted. \"Kris? You want in?\"\n\n\"Please,\" Kris said. \"Not to guilt-trip you or anything, but the alternative is moving back in with my parents and embracing my Midwest heritage. Or living under a bridge somewhere. Just so you know.\"\n\nBrian winced. \"Let's try to avoid that. Here's what I'll do.\" Everyone else quieted. \"We'll take you on for a trial period. We've got sixteen shows between New York and the Nevada festival. If you make it through all that without a hitch, we'll talk about signing you on for good. But you make one wrong move, and I've got a session musician on speed dial who already knows all the tracks, and is just waiting to jump in and cover for us. All right?\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Kris said quickly. \"I'll be on my best behavior, one hundred percent. No wrong moves.\"\n\nBrian seemed skeptical, but he nodded. \"I'll get a contract drawn up tying you to the tour as far as Nevada.\"\n\nKris's heart skipped giddily and he tried not to let it show.\n\n\"Everybody on board?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"The kid can play,\" Lenny acknowledged.\n\n\"Of course we're on board,\" Maki said.\n\n\"You'd pitch a fit if we weren't,\" Stef concluded.\n\n\"They're all thrilled to have you here,\" Rayne said, fixing the band with a stern look. \"Right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, we're just fucking with you,\" Stef said. \"You sound great. Not that Fink was a tough act to follow, but whatever.\"\n\nMaki shook her head. \"Fink was always a mess. I'm surprised he lasted this long.\"\n\n\"He could play guitar but he was no prodigy,\" Stef agreed. \"And all that fucking heroin was a pain.\"\n\n\"You shouldn't speak ill of the dead,\" Rayne said mildly.\n\n\"He's not dead; he's in rehab.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but he's dead to me. So, Kris\u2014no drugs.\"\n\n\"No, of course not,\" Kris promised. He glanced at Brian. \"Uh. Weed?\"\n\n\"Doesn't count,\" they all said in unison.\n\n\"No hard drugs,\" Rayne amended. \"Weed and party drugs are okay. Partake responsibly.\"\n\n\"I've never done anything besides weed.\"\n\n\"He's cute,\" Maki said decisively, and just like that, Kris was accepted into the fold.\n\n\"I'll pay you back for it as soon as I can,\" Kris said.\n\nThey stood on the sidewalk in front of the music store. The neon letters in the window read OPEN, and the display was full of bright, shiny new instruments Kris didn't have a chance in hell of affording anytime soon.\n\n\"Shut up and let me buy you a guitar,\" Rayne said pleasantly.\n\nInside, the store was low-lit but spacious. Aisles of cords, cables, speakers, and amps filled the front half of the room, giving way to keyboards as they moved farther in. Rayne steered him to the left side near the back where, tucked away in a little nook, the electric guitars and basses were covering every inch of the three walls. They were glossy and bright and came in every size, shape, and color, and Kris's eyes glazed over with want just looking at them.\n\nRayne nudged his shoulder. \"Find one you like.\"\n\n\"Any one?\"\n\nThey both glanced at the double-necked beast on the back wall. It had to weigh more than Kris.\n\n\"Maybe not that one,\" Rayne amended. \"Anything else.\"\n\nKris stepped into the nook with the sensation of stepping into a whole new world. He reached out to touch the nearest guitar. Rayne waited in the main body of the store, letting him explore on his own, for which Kris was grateful. The one-eighty degree spin his life had taken since landing in New York was still catching up to him, as dizzying as a hurricane and keeping him off-balance. Right now, looking at the wall of guitars and knowing he was going to take one of them home\u2014or out of the store, anyway, wherever \"home\" was\u2014he was nearly in tears.\n\nHe checked the nearest price tag and swallowed. His acoustic had cost him fifty bucks. These were significantly more.\n\n\"Pick one up, try it out,\" Rayne said. \"Play me something.\"\n\nKris forced his attention off the numbers and onto the guitars. He landed on a Squier Mini Strat in the back corner, and had lifted it from its hook before he was aware of his actions. The body was a dark cherry red, wood grains showing through black near the base. Rayne hummed in approval. The Fender was smaller than the others\u2014Kris was short and needed a guitar with a shorter neck to match. He knelt down, balancing it across his lap, and gave it a strum. Unplugged, the sound was faint, but the notes were true. He closed his eyes and plucked out a scale, skipping up and down the frets.\n\n\"You like it?\" Rayne asked. \"Plug her in and play me a song.\"\n\nThere was an amp waiting in the corner beside a stool and a pair of headphones. Kris plugged in and spun out a riff to match the Green Day song on the overhead speakers, and Rayne grinned in return. The guitar felt warm and alive under his hands. He liked the look and the feel of it\u2014it was just the money niggling at him.\n\n\"You want to try any others?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"This one's talking to me.\"\n\nThe longer Kris sat with it, the more attached he got. He played until Rayne wandered off to look at something, and as soon as his back was turned, Kris snuck a peek at the price. It wasn't the most expensive guitar on the wall; maybe it was even the cheapest. That didn't make it affordable.\n\nThe cherry-red finish glinted up at him.\n\n\"You sure you don't want to get me a used one somewhere?\" Kris asked, calling Rayne back.\n\n\"You looked at the price, didn't you?\"\n\n\"Maybe.\"\n\n\"You make it hard for people to buy you stuff, you know that?\" Rayne said. \"You like it, right? Best out of all the ones they've got?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but\u2014\"\n\n\"No buts.\" Rayne nudged him until he stood. \"You're in the band; you need a guitar. I promise, the label can afford a decent instrument or two.\"\n\nKris shifted, cradling the guitar in his arms like a baby, and relented.\n\nRayne grinned. \"You'll get used to the whole rock-star thing. Wait till we hit LA. You're allowed to be a diva there. Hell, you're expected to be.\"\n\n\"I'm from Kansas. We don't have divas or rock stars there. We have wheat. And cows.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you look like a cowboy kind of guy.\" Rayne held out his arm, beckoning Kris in. Kris stepped up and Rayne caught him around the shoulders, steering him out of the nook. \"Come on. We've got a show tonight.\"\n\nThey ended up at the register with the guitar, a hard case, a strap, and a pack of extra strings\u2014Rayne said that Fink had left behind his old amplifier, and Kris was more than welcome to inherit it.\n\n\"Hey, Rayne,\" the cashier greeted them. \"Find everything okay?\"\n\n\"This is baby's first electric guitar,\" Rayne said, ruffling Kris's hair.\n\n\"Your boy's got good taste,\" she said, ringing up the instrument. \"You guys have fun?\"\n\n\"I think I'm in shock,\" Kris said. \"Should I wait outside while you pay for this?\"\n\n\"Don't be dumb,\" Rayne replied as the girl punched the numbers in. \"After this I'm buying you coffee\u2014one of those fancy ones with the ridiculous names and ten hundred toppings.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Kris said helplessly.\n\n\"Get used to it, babe. You're living in the fast lane now.\"\n\nThe total flashed up on the register, and Kris broke out in a sweat and had to look away. Rayne paid with his business account without batting an eye, and Kris was only allowed to carry the stuff to their car after fighting Rayne for it first. Butch, who'd been waiting patiently behind the wheel of the '66 Mustang, put the top down and drove them around the block to the nearest coffee shop. Kris bolted from the car, vaulting over the door before Rayne had undone his seat belt, and flung himself into the shop, adamant that he would get in line and pay before Rayne could.\n\nThe barista spelled both their names wrong, and Rayne laughed at him the entire drive back to the studio. Somehow, that didn't stop Kris from enjoying his drink, though he suspected the caffeine was going to fry his nerves. They could get fried\u2014the important thing was staying awake to play the show.\n\n\"You good?\" Rayne asked as they pulled back into the studio lot, twisting in his seat to look back at Kris. Butch killed the engine and disembarked, warning them not to linger too long.\n\nKris rolled his cup between his hands and breathed. \"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just trying to wrap my head around everything. I feel like I left Kansas in the real world, and I landed in some parallel dimension where everything is just . . .\" He met Rayne's gaze. \"Wild. Unbelievable. And good? But like.\" He let the condensation from the cup drip over his fingers. Rayne smiled encouragingly. \"I have no idea what I'm doing,\" Kris finished.\n\n\"I didn't give you a lot of time to think about it\u2014\" Rayne began, but Kris cut him off with a shake of his head.\n\n\"I want this,\" he said firmly. \"This could be the best thing that's ever happened to me. You met me a few hours ago, and you've already bought me a guitar, man! This isn't how real life works. I should be working twenty hours a week as a cashier making minimum wage in some crappy convenience store, not\u2014\" He gestured up and down to Rayne.\n\n\"The guitar suits you,\" Rayne said. \"You look good with it.\"\n\n\"It outclasses me by a mile.\"\n\n\"You wouldn't have picked it if you thought it wouldn't work for you, and you wouldn't have blown that audition out of the water if you weren't meant for this.\"\n\n\"I want it to suit me,\" Kris said. \"I think it could, but . . . maybe a version of me that doesn't exist yet.\"\n\n\"It will,\" Rayne promised. \"Maybe you think I'm nuts for offering you all this when I barely know you, but listen\u2014I have a good instinct for people. When I saw you in the park, even before I heard you play, I knew you were worth taking a chance on. You're pure potential right now, and we're going to shape you into something incredible. Besides, Brian won't let you fuck up too badly.\"\n\nKris thought about the little red guitar in the trunk of the Mustang and tried to imagine himself onstage with The Chokecherries, in leather and makeup and too much glitter, playing for a crowd of thousands\u2014his old dream, glimmering on the brink of coming true. His head spun at the thought of it.\n\n\"That,\" Rayne said. \"Whatever you were thinking right there. That's what we're going to make you into.\"\n\n\"I'm in.\" Kris's mouth was dry and his heart beating too fast. \"Just tell me what to do.\"\n\nRayne described the show as \"intimate,\" but the venue looked plenty big to Kris. The set list had twelve tracks, all covers the band had chosen once it became apparent Fink wasn't coming back and they couldn't train a new guitarist on their original material in time. Kris knew all the songs and could play most of them; those he couldn't, he was confident he could fake. Bowie, the Rolling Stones, Nirvana\u2014they were so deeply ingrained in Kris's mind he could play them in his sleep. He'd cut his teeth on The White Stripes' song, learning to play back in middle school.\n\n\"You're going straight from Britney Spears to Nine Inch Nails?\" he asked.\n\n\"Have to keep them guessing,\" Rayne said. \"They'll love it.\"\n\nIt was already 5 p.m. The show was slated to start at eight. Kris was running on caffeine and not much else, and he hadn't played with a real live band in ten years. Brian walked him through all the equipment as the others warmed up. The tech was familiar, albeit fancier and more expensive than Kris was used to, but muscle memory kicked in and he managed well enough, even if he felt like a kid pretending to be a grown-up.\n\n\"You're fine,\" Brian determined. \"We'll get you in better shape by the time we hit the road, but you'll do for now.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Kris took a deep breath. \"I've got this.\"\n\n\"Ready?\" Rayne asked.\n\nKris shifted his guitar around until it felt like part of his body and nodded. \"Okay. Go.\"\n\nHe kept to himself at first, concentrating on the music and the equipment and learning how the different players fit together. The Chokecherries were so familiar with one another they could communicate without words, and Kris felt left behind\u2014like he was stuck on the ground trying to understand the beauty of a flock of birds. Maki and Lenny were the easiest to pin down; they stayed by their stations, Lenny emanating quiet ease while Maki seemed effortlessly cool, keeping to herself until she needed to trade sarcastic asides with Stef. Stef, meanwhile, took up every inch of space they could manage, strutting back and forth, their hair falling in their face as they thrashed their bass around with a palpable aggression.\n\nAnd then there was Rayne.\n\nHe stayed near his mike stand, giving directions and suggestions between tracks, sometimes pacing, but with nowhere near the energy Kris had seen in the videos. Rather than making the rehearsal feel dull in comparison to them, the air was thick with anticipation, like the room was waiting for the tiger to burst from its cage.\n\nBy the time they had run through every track, it was one hour till showtime. They tucked themselves away backstage in a single dressing room, waiting for the audience to pile in.\n\n\"It's a going-away show,\" Rayne said. \"Mostly friends and family. It's really small; a few hundred people, tops. We're not even dressing up for it.\"\n\nKris nodded and pretended he wasn't being eaten alive by nerves. The others were all comfortably settled in their preshow rituals, and he didn't want to interrupt to demand reassurances. He knew the songs, could use the equipment, and the rehearsal had gone fine. Rayne believed in him. Kris swallowed his anxiety, wiped his palms on his jeans, and smiled. It felt shaky, but no one questioned it. He spent the last hour as a ball of nervous energy, pacing backstage, tuning his guitar, trying to sit, drinking too much water and then running to the bathroom every five minutes. He could hear the venue starting to fill, a low thrum of voices and bodies behind the curtain, waiting for the band.\n\nHe left his flannel shirt folded over the back of the dressing room couch and hoped he didn't look too out of place. The Chokecherries were exotic even in plain clothes, and Kris wondered if he might have preferred taking the stage for the first time behind a mask of makeup and high fashion.\n\n\"You good?\" Rayne asked brightly.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Kris croaked, holding his guitar in a death grip.\n\n\"It's going to be great.\" Rayne slung an arm around Kris's neck and toppled him off-balance into a hug. \"They're going to love you.\"\n\n\"Right. No, totally. I'm not even nervous.\"\n\nRayne flashed him one last smile before the voices reached a crescendo and he lunged forward to take the stage. The sudden well of screams\u2014a few hundred, but god, the noise\u2014was the last thing Kris heard before he followed Rayne into the blinding lights.\n\nKris couldn't remember a single detail about the show once it was over. As soon as Rayne was done with the introductions\u2014\"The Chokecherries\" left a rich taste in Kris's mouth: sweet as honey, and just a little bit dirty\u2014and they launched into their first song, his mind went blank and all that was left was the music. It passed like a fever dream: a rush of sound and color that was over as quickly as it had begun. He remembered the feel of the strings under his fingers, and the way the floor vibrated with the heartbeat of the drums, but little else. He couldn't have answered to his own name, but he knew Rayne's. The crowd chanted it like a prayer.\n\nHe returned to himself when he staggered backstage, disoriented and high on adrenaline. Setting his guitar on the couch, he dropped down beside it like his strings had been cut. His ears were ringing and his knees were weak. He'd never felt more alive in his life.\n\nComing in after him, Rayne was flushed and bright-eyed, his hair damp with sweat. He looked ecstatic.\n\n\"Did I do good?\" Kris felt slightly drunk, like all the stress had whooshed out of him during the show, and champagne bubbles had sprung up to take its place.\n\n\"Baby, you did great,\" Rayne said, hauling Kris to his feet to pass him around to the rest of the band like a party favor.\n\nThey all clapped him on the back and ruffled his hair, obviously exhausted and pleased with themselves. Lenny handed him a beer from the minifridge, and Kris cracked it open as they cheered him on. The audience had seemed to love the set and he hadn't messed anything up too badly\u2014not that he could remember, anyway\u2014but it was the band's approval he needed. He caught Rayne's eye amid the group, and Rayne smiled like a cat. Kris let out the breath he'd been holding all evening. He wasn't going to starve to death on the streets. He was going to play festivals and tour the world with a platinum-selling glam-punk band. It wasn't his Madison Square Garden fantasy, but it was better, because it was real.\n\nThey went straight from the show to a party at Rayne's penthouse in SoHo. Butch drove the band in a long black limo, slipping in and out of traffic as they left the venue behind. Sandwiched between Rayne and Stef, Kris wondered whether the never-ending somersault in his stomach was going to level out soon. It didn't seem inclined to, but then, maybe it was his body's way of telling him to stop drinking coffee and start considering solid food again sometime soon.\n\nInstead he was going to give it more alcohol.\n\nRayne's penthouse was bigger than any house in Kris's hometown, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a balcony overlooking the city. Stairs led to an open-concept loft where the bedrooms were housed, and framed art pieces colored the walls. An Indian Buddha statue sat on a table in one corner, gleaming gold and surrounded by leafy houseplants.\n\nA black girl with a huge halo of hair greeted them at the door. She had a bright smile and, like Rayne, was dressed to the nines, jewelry glinting at her throat and fingers.\n\n\"Angel, this is Kris, our new guitarist,\" Rayne said, putting his arm around her and kissing her cheek as they crossed the threshold en masse. \"Kris, this is Angel. She's my best girl, and she's coming on tour with us.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you,\" Kris said.\n\nAngel offered her hand for a shake. Her nails were long and painted with glitter, and she smelled like vanilla and sugar cookies.\n\n\"He's a little bit drunk,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"No, I'm not.\" He was, a little. He'd made peace with his lightweight tendencies years ago.\n\n\"There's food and drinks in the kitchen,\" Rayne directed. \"More people are going to show up within the hour, so if you want to eat, get in there.\"\n\nHe shepherded Kris through to the kitchen with one hand on the small of his back, and Kris, pleasantly buzzed, let himself be steered. There was something reassuring about knowing he would never get lost in New York, because Rayne would never let him out of arm's reach.\n\nThe kitchen island was piled high with trays of nachos, pizza, and fruit and vegetable platters. Bowls of chips and dips lined the counters, with bottles of soda and booze and empty cups standing sentinel behind them. Kris grabbed a paper plate and piled it high. He hoped getting some food in him would take the edge off the tipsiness, but suspected it was half excitement.\n\nHe spent the next three hours in a daze of company, food, and booze. Midnight ticked past and the party grew from the band to friends of the band, and friends of friends, and relatives Kris couldn't keep track of. The girls were all flawlessly made up, charming and dazzlingly sharp, and the men all looked like models, nearly as made up as the girls. Rayne's social circle wasn't only model-beautiful, but beautifully androgynous too. Everyone wore designer clothes; even the punks looked groomed. Kris, used to faded denim and sneakers so old the soles were worn through, drank more and talked faster to keep up.\n\nHe could play the hell out of a guitar, but surrounded by all these glittering socialites, all stars or stars in the making, he felt like a moth in the company of butterflies. His hair was a nondescript brown, his eyes much the same. His mom called them hazel, but she was being generous. He was small, skinny\u2014\"pocket-sized,\" one of his old girlfriends had joked. Definitely nothing that would stand out in a crowd.\n\nJust after 1 a.m., he escaped to the balcony, desperate for some fresh air to clear his head, and ensconced himself on the porch swing nestled in amid a throng of plants.\n\n\"Hey,\" said Angel, approaching with a drink in her hand. \"How you doing?\"\n\n\"Hi.\" Whatever her perfume was, it was intoxicating. \"I'm good. I'm fine. I haven't slept in forty-two hours, but that's cool.\"\n\n\"Rayne said he found you on a street corner this morning. This your first time at a dig like this?\"\n\n\"This is my first time for a lot of things,\" Kris said. \"I'm breaking personal records for how many firsts I've had today. Do you want to sit?\"\n\nAngel slid onto the swing beside him and balanced her drink in her lap.\n\n\"Rayne said you're going on tour with them?\" Kris didn't want to jinx it and say us without signing a contract first.\n\n\"I do makeup and wardrobe. Rayne says it's my job to make everybody pretty.\"\n\n\"Everybody looks pretty pretty already, from where I'm standing.\"\n\nKris could tell when a guy was attractive, though he could never say that kind of thing back home. There, they took pride in their ruggedness, like moisturizer was an affront to their masculinity, and they'd rather die than get called pretty. Here the men preened like peacocks, and Rayne out-peacocked them all, with his earrings, heeled boots, and glittering makeup: the kind of beautiful Kris had never seen before but wanted to see a lot more of.\n\nAngel hummed knowingly and took a drink.\n\n\"You going to make me all fancy for the shows too?\"\n\n\"Yep,\" Angel said.\n\n\"Clothes and makeup and glitter and everything,\" he clarified.\n\n\"The whole shebang. You good with that?\"\n\nHe thought about it. He didn't know how he'd look, dolled up like the rest of the band was in their videos. Would he even recognize himself in the mirror?\n\nMaybe it was time for a change.\n\nThen again, he was a few drinks past tipsy.\n\n\"Sure.\" He shrugged easily. \"Sounds fun; why not?\"\n\n\"You'll be fine,\" she agreed.\n\n\"He didn't find me on a street corner, though. That sounds so trashy. I was on a park bench.\"\n\n\"Ah, you're right. That's much more respectable.\"\n\nShe bumped their shoulders together with a teasing smile, and Kris was almost drunk enough to think kissing her would be a good idea. The one sober part of his brain holding the fort cleared its metaphorical throat and suggested that if they were all going to be touring together, making a move on Rayne's self-described best girl wouldn't be the smartest move.\n\n\"You're really pretty,\" his mouth said, with zero input from his brain.\n\n\"Thanks.\" She was still smiling. \"You're pretty cute yourself.\"\n\n\"I told you so.\" Rayne came out through the back door, his boots clicking against the balcony floor. \"People told me you guys had hidden away out here. I came to make sure you were still having a good time.\"\n\n\"I needed some air,\" Kris said, smiling up at him. Rayne was as pretty as Angel, and just as kissable. Kris bet he knew how to moisturize.\n\n\"He was trying to decide whether to kiss me,\" Angel explained.\n\n\"Whoops. Did I interrupt?\" Rayne asked with a teasing grin.\n\n\"I wasn't,\" Kris said, and tamped down the urge to admit he would consider kissing Rayne too. \"I definitely was not. Also, I'm drunk.\"\n\n\"You are,\" Rayne said. \"You want to come back inside? Maki's making these mixed drinks that are, like, ninety percent sugar\u2014they're amazing. You have to try one.\"\n\nThe sober part of his brain, rapidly drowning in alcohol, shook its head. \"I should probably call it quits, actually. Try to get some sleep before morning.\" Kris froze. \"Um.\"\n\n\"Shit, I'm sorry, I never thought about where to put you tonight,\" Rayne said. \"I should have got you a hotel or something. I've got rooms upstairs if you want to crash here.\"\n\n\"Is that okay? I didn't even think\u2014 I'm still all jet-lagged and weird.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about it.\" He coaxed Kris to his feet, collecting his empty beer can from him as he went. \"Go get some sleep.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" Standing brought Kris a fresh wave of dizziness, and with it, the realization that he was drunker than he thought. \"Bye, Angel. Night, Rayne.\"\n\n\"You can think about kissing me next time,\" Angel said with a wink.\n\n\"Nope,\" Kris said. \"Drunk brain. No kissing anybody.\"\n\n\"Good night, Kris,\" Rayne said, laughing. \"Don't hurt yourself.\"\n\nKris gave them a sloppy salute before heading back into the warm buzz of the party. He waved to everyone he recognized as he passed them and then headed up the stairs to the loft, one hand on the rail for balance. Upstairs was quieter, unspokenly off-limits to the partygoers, and Kris shimmied into the first bedroom he saw, flopping face-first onto the mattress without bothering to remove his shoes, which dangled over the end of the bed. As long as he left them hovering in the air like that, he wouldn't feel rude.\n\nIt was a good party, and he liked Rayne's friends, even if they outpaced and outclassed him. Maybe he could sleep for an hour and then rejoin them, or at least help clean up after. But then, maybe Rayne was rich enough to have a maid. Maybe Butch did cleaning on top of security and chauffeuring.\n\nPreoccupied by thoughts of rock stars and limousines, Kris tipped from drowsiness into sleep between one breath and the next.\n\nHe blinked awake, groggy and disoriented, when someone entered the room. The clock on the bedside table glowed soft and red, the numbers informing him it was 4:13 a.m. His mouth felt like something had curled up and died in it.\n\n\"Ughh?\" he said.\n\n\"Sorry. I didn't think\u2014\"\n\n\"Rayne?\" Kris lifted his head and tried to find a face in the shadows. Everything looked blue and fuzzy. \"Party over? Meant to come back downstairs. Sorry.\"\n\n\"It's okay. Go back to sleep, Kris.\"\n\n\"Am I in your bed?\"\n\n\"I'll take one of the guest rooms.\"\n\nKris frowned. That wasn't right. But before he could protest, Rayne was gone again, the door pulled shut behind him. Kris dropped back to the pillow and back into sleep, unconscious before Rayne's footsteps had faded.\n\nHe woke with the dawn, feeling less zombie-ish than he had at four, but not by much. He shuffled down the hall in search of the bathroom, mentally noting which room was Rayne's so he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. After, he headed downstairs, where he found the remnants of the party scattered over tables and counters, though the guests themselves must have left sometime in the night. He shrugged and found a garbage bag to shift greasy paper plates and food scraps into, moving from room to room as the sun rose. He helped himself to leftover pizza as he went, the cheese congealed but to his slightly hungover self, perfect. The remaining booze he capped and set aside, not looking at it straight on in case his stomach decided to object.\n\nKeeping busy stopped his brain from overthinking things, like how he'd wanted to kiss Rayne the night before. Sober, he had more important things to dwell on. They were leaving for the tour the next day, and Kris still needed to sign a contract and learn the songs. Could he afford an apartment in New York after the tour was over? Would he even want to stay in the city?\n\nHe found a broom tucked away beside the fridge and started sweeping the kitchen, fanning out to the living room and then the balcony, just in case. That was where Rayne found him\u2014Rayne, sporting an incredible show of bedhead and, judging by his bright eyes and easy smile, apparently unaffected by the previous night's events.\n\n\"Hey, Kris,\" Rayne said around a yawn. \"Are you sweeping my balcony?\"\n\n\"Maybe.\"\n\n\"Okay, cool. You want breakfast? Coffee? You can help yourself to anything in the fridge.\"\n\n\"I had pizza, but coffee would be amazing.\"\n\nRayne's nose scrunched up. \"The pizza that was sitting out all night?\"\n\nKris shrugged. It wouldn't kill him.\n\nThey returned to the kitchen, and Rayne got the coffee started\u2014the machine was huge and chrome and insanely complicated\u2014and Kris leaned against the counter as the smell filled the kitchen and made his mouth water.\n\n\"Sleep well?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"Like a rock. Sorry I took your bed. I wasn't really on top of my game last night.\"\n\n\"I noticed,\" Rayne said, smiling easily. \"It's fine. Did you have fun at the party?\"\n\n\"It was great, but I won't remember half those people's names.\"\n\n\"That's okay. Barely any are coming on tour with us.\"\n\n\"About that . . .\"\n\nRayne stilled. \"You're not changing your mind, are you? Because that's not allowed.\"\n\n\"No! Not at all. I just\u2014 The contract?\"\n\nRayne relaxed, though he looked faintly alarmed around the eyes. \"It doesn't tie you to anything further than the festival, but you do have to promise you won't leave us hanging in the middle of nowhere without a guitarist. And Brian's reserving the right to kick you out at the first sign of trouble, just in case.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Kris said. \"It's just, I've never signed a contract before. Should I get a lawyer to look it over?\"\n\n\"Do you have a lawyer?\"\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"The label's lawyers will explain everything,\" Rayne promised. \"No tricks, no mind games. You play guitar, and they give you money. Speaking of!\" He dug into his jeans' pocket\u2014 They were plastered on so tight that Kris didn't think they could fit anything in there at all, but Rayne proved him wrong and pulled out a wad of bills wrapped in an elastic band. \"Here's your cut from the show last night.\" He handed it to Kris with a grin. \"I wasn't sure about your banking situation what with the whole, you know, sleeping on the street, so I thought cash would be safer.\"\n\n\"I have a bank account,\" Kris said faintly. \"This is, like, two hundred dollars.\"\n\n\"You should probably deposit it, then. We can stop and do that on the way.\"\n\n\"The way to what?\"\n\n\"Business first, and then the fun stuff. Drink up and get changed, babe. We're going to make you famous.\"\n\nThe trick to surviving a day of shopping with a friend, Kris had learned years ago, was to let that friend do whatever they wanted. Back home it had been his girlfriend, and all he'd had to do was stand around, tell her she looked good, and hold her bags.\n\nShopping with Rayne and Angel promised to be considerably more interactive. They walked from Rayne's apartment into the heart of SoHo, where block after block of shops crowded the streets, all connected by roads thronged with pedestrians who had no apparent regard for the cars or bikes trying to eke their way through. Butch promised to come by later with the car to collect their bags, and Kris mentally prepared himself for a day of walking, shopping, and spending more money than he could imagine on clothes.\n\n\"We'll start you with jeans and a tee,\" Rayne said, leading him into their first store, a tiny boutique with a green storefront, ironically called The Emporium.\n\n\"I have jeans and tees,\" Kris said.\n\n\"You do.\"\n\n\"Is there something wrong with them?\"\n\n\"No! Of course not.\"\n\n\"You can tell me if there is. I know I'm not up to your fancy rock star standards yet. That's why we're here, right?\"\n\n\"We're shopping for clothes that are a little more fitted,\" Angel said, in an admirable attempt at diplomacy. \"And black.\"\n\nKris glanced down at the jeans he was wearing. They were a basic straight-leg denim wash. \"You want a pair that'll make my ass look good?\" he guessed. \"Because I hate to break it to you, but I don't really have one.\"\n\n\"We'll work something out,\" Rayne assured him.\n\nAfter trying on five different pairs of jeans, Kris was feeling weirdly smug about it.\n\n\"Okay,\" Rayne said. \"You really don't have an ass.\"\n\nKris turned around like he was trying to see himself better in the mirror, but he was actually just flaunting his complete lack of assets. \"I don't know; you want to keep trying? I heard that girls have these padded butts they wear under their pants to make themselves bigger. You want to get me one of those?\"\n\n\"You're the worst,\" Rayne said. \"You're like a couple of toothpicks propping up a pipe cleaner. You're tiny.\"\n\n\"I'm pocket-sized.\"\n\nKris did like the jeans, though. They clung to his legs and made him seem even smaller, somehow; the back pockets were embellished with sequins and stones in little looping patterns. The stitches up the side seams were lighter than the fabric of the pants.\n\n\"Hey,\" he said. \"Are these girls' jeans?\"\n\nRayne and Angel glanced at each other.\n\n\"They fit better, don't they?\" Angel asked.\n\nKris looked back in the mirror. They really did. He actually had thighs and calves in them instead of the skinny, shapeless sticks his men's-style jeans gave him.\n\n\"Huh,\" he said. \"Okay. What else they got in the girls' section?\"\n\nThey left The Emporium with him wearing one outfit and carrying two additional pairs of jeans and an armful of tops: tees, tanks, and what Kris was resolutely refusing to think of as blouses. They were silky and kind of see-through, sure, but he had to draw the line somewhere.\n\nWhen he said it out loud, Angel flatly replied, \"They're blouses. The sooner you make peace with that, the sooner we can move on.\"\n\nKris wrinkled his nose.\n\n\"You said you liked them,\" Rayne pointed out. \"You want to take them back? We can do it right now. We're not even at the car yet.\"\n\n\"I do like them. They're flattering.\"\n\nThey were, but half of that was Rayne telling him they looked good on him. Kris had found himself preening under the attention, and though the trying on and taking off of outfits had been exhausting, not to mention stiflingly hot, there was something about being dressed up to fit Rayne's whims that had given him a little thrill. Rayne hadn't been shy about expressing his appreciation, either, raking his gaze over Kris or stepping into Kris's space to adjust some part of the outfit to his liking. Angel had been quieter, but Kris had figured out how to read her easily enough. She might not say as much out loud, but her opinions resided in her eyebrows and in the shape of her mouth, and she'd seemed pleased with the results so far.\n\nStill.\n\n\"I feel like a kid playing dress-up,\" he said, scrutinizing his reflection in the car window. From the neck down, he could slip into any one of The Chokecherries' videos and feel at home. From the neck up, he was still a nobody from his dusty little hometown. If he came out of this shopping excursion looking half as put together as either Rayne or Angel, he'd be surprised.\n\n\"We'll get you there,\" Angel said. \"Now, about your hair . . .\" It was just dark enough to escape being called mousy, but too light to make a statement. \"You mind if I change it up?\" she asked. \"Dye it, cut it?\"\n\n\"There's not a lot here to cut.\"\n\n\"I'll make it work.\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Knock yourself out, then. I'm in your hands.\"\n\nThey tossed the bags in the trunk and headed for their next stop. Rayne detoured and got smoothies from a trendy little caf\u00e9 where everything was vegan, organic, and obscenely expensive, and they drank them as they walked.\n\n\"Now you need your statement pieces,\" Rayne explained around his straw. \"At least one really good jacket, some boots, some belts. Something with bling. Do you like scarves?\"\n\nKris had never worn a scarf except in winter, but that probably wasn't what Rayne meant.\n\n\"I'm open to scarves.\" Kris was open to anything. He liked the attention, which he had expected, but he also liked being dressed up like a mannequin, which he hadn't. When Rayne and Angel led him into the second shop and took him through the women's section, it felt illicit; his stomach flipped with nerves, and he kept glancing around to see if the shop assistants were looking at him. They weren't. He clearly wasn't even a blip on their radar.\n\n\"You're enjoying this more than I thought you would,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"A guy can't shop?\"\n\nRayne held his hands up in surrender. \"I'm just saying!\"\n\nKris picked up something sparkly and gold, covered in tassels and sequins. He was pretty sure it was a scarf.\n\n\"So, jackets,\" he said. \"If they're not denim or leather I'm kind of lost.\"\n\n\"We can do leather! Come over here.\"\n\nRayne dragged him into another room in the store, where rack after rack of jackets and coats filled the floor.\n\n\"You don't want anything too heavy or it'll look like it's eating you.\"\n\nKris was barely five six; he knew all too well the limits of his wardrobe options. He wandered through the racks, letting his attention drift until a little black piece with too many gold zippers and buckles to make any sense caught his eye. The leather was impossibly soft, the metal impossibly bright. He shrugged it over his shoulders and let it settle, searching out his reflection in one of the mirrors along the walls.\n\n\"Picture that, but with blond hair and eyeliner,\" Angel said.\n\nKris could see it. His heart thudded harder and he tugged at the cuffs. They came down to his knuckles, the zipper tags jingling.\n\n\"This one,\" he said.\n\n\"You don't want to try anything else?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"Nope. This is it.\"\n\nHe handed it to Rayne, who glanced at the tag before adding it to the pile. \"Vegan leather, nice. Points for you. Lunch break and then go find you some shoes?\"\n\n\"I've got shoes.\"\n\n\"You could have new ones.\"\n\n\"These are comfy.\"\n\nThey were so worn in they had no choice but to be comfortable. He wasn't opposed to getting new shoes, but he had never seen the point if his current ones were still functional. Although these were practically slippers now.\n\n\"I will buy you the exact same pair if you really want to stick with Converse,\" Rayne said, \"but the ones you're wearing won't survive the tour.\"\n\nKris wiggled his toes in them. \"Fine. But they have to be high-tops.\"\n\nRayne hauled their loot to the counter, and Kris watched the assistant ring it up. There was the jacket, a collection of scarves, one covered in skulls, and a sequined top that Kris honestly wasn't sure how to wear, but which Rayne had assured him would look amazing.\n\n\"You're getting better at not panicking about the money,\" Rayne observed as the assistant wrapped the items in tissue paper.\n\n\"I've figured out that panicking won't stop you from spending it, so I've decided not to bother.\"\n\n\"Smart move.\"\n\nThey loaded the bags into the car, the trunk getting full, and went in search of a place for lunch. The sun was warm on Kris's face, the breeze ruffled his hair, and Rayne and Angel walked on either side of him, jostling into him occasionally. Sometimes Rayne's hand brushed his, and it sent electric tingles up and down Kris's arm.\n\nPhysical intimacy wasn't done in Kris's hometown. It was reserved as an expression between couples, and anything outside of courtship was put down as an accident. Guys didn't hug; there was no such thing as a casual touch outside of a romantic relationship. So Kris had filled that void with his family and the girls he dated, or wanted to date, until he hadn't realized there was a void at all. Rayne didn't work like that. He simultaneously dragged that void out into the open and set about filling it before Kris could say culture shock. Kris could get used to it. It had only been two days, and he would already miss it if it stopped.\n\nRayne took them to an Indian caf\u00e9 and laughed at Kris when he tried to make sense of the menu. He didn't recognize half the words, never mind the dishes. He finally gave up, ordered an iced tea, and let Rayne recommend him something. He never found out what it was, but it was colorful and tasted good, so he couldn't complain. Rayne told him about the cities he was most excited to play in, their opening band, and the next tattoo he was going to get. Angel talked about the band's fashion, the club she owned, and where they were playing in her hometown of New Orleans. Kris watched them, ate his food, and basked in the warmth and the company.\n\n\"One night ago I was sleeping on a bench,\" he said suddenly, sliding into a gap in the conversation.\n\nThey both looked at him.\n\n\"Sorry,\" he said. \"I wasn't going anywhere with that. It just hit me.\"\n\n\"The world works in mysterious ways,\" Rayne said.\n\nThe second realization hit him like a brick to the face. \"I need to learn two albums' worth of songs before our first show.\"\n\n\"Total faith in you,\" Rayne assured him, though he seemed slightly worried. \"You've already got a couple of them down. As long as you know the tune you can make the rest up as you go, right?\"\n\n\"You want me to fake the riffs? Won't people notice?\"\n\n\"Not fake them so much as improvise. It's a tour\u2014the fans will expect it to sound a little different from the albums.\"\n\n\"Yeah. No, I can\u2014I can totally do that.\" Kris nodded and tried to laugh. It wasn't very convincing.\n\n\"Let's get him some shoes and head back,\" Angel said, clearing her plate. \"Before the boy has a nervous breakdown.\"\n\n\"It's not a breakdown,\" Kris said. \"I just need a minute.\" He held up his fingers to measure the smidgeon of a minute he was taking. \"Just to get my bearings.\"\n\n\"You're good though, right?\" Rayne checked. \"You still want this?\"\n\n\"I'm good,\" Kris promised. He could absolutely learn two albums in twenty-four hours.\n\nBleach, he learned, stung like a bitch. He bit his lip to keep from squirming as Angel wrapped the top of his head in plastic to let the stuff set. It burned his scalp, digging in like fire ants, and he hated it.\n\n\"You'll get used to it,\" she said, seemingly unconcerned about how his entire head was aflame. \"After the first few times you won't even feel it anymore.\"\n\n\"Uh-huh,\" he said, not believing a word of her lies. Her hair was all natural. She was clearly much smarter than he was. He turned the box over in his hands, rereading the warnings for the tenth time. \"You sure this won't blind me or anything?\"\n\n\"As long as you don't rub it in your eyes.\"\n\n\"I wasn't planning to.\"\n\nThey were in Rayne's penthouse, crowded into the bathroom-cum-salon on the lower level. Angel had apparently converted it herself: bright bare bulbs shone in stripes around the mirror, which took up nearly an entire wall; another wall was packed with neat little shelves housing every kind and color of makeup, dye, and polish under the sun. It was glamorous, hyperfeminine, streamlined to the point of peak efficiency, and reminded Kris of some weird science fiction spaceship. It was incredible, and he was scared to touch any of it.\n\n\"Are you bringing all this on tour with you?\" he asked.\n\n\"Only the basics,\" she said. \"Everyone's got their own style figured out except for you, so I can narrow it down to the bare essentials.\"\n\n\"How do I figure out my style?\"\n\n\"We'll start with where you're comfortable and go from there. Lenny just wears a bit of eyeliner; Maki spends up to an hour in the chair before a show. I'll make sure you look good, but you don't have to wear anything you don't want.\"\n\nKris caught Rayne's eye in the mirror. \"No, I'm down to, like, experiment.\"\n\n\"I'm guessing you never tried this back in Kansas,\" Angel said.\n\n\"I never tried a lot of things in Kansas.\"\n\nIn the mirror, Rayne's lips curved in a slow smile. Kris grinned to himself and dropped his gaze. \"In for a penny, right? I want you to make me pretty.\"\n\nHe stayed at Rayne's place again that night. The next morning they would leave for the tour, heading across the country toward Nevada for the Purple Sage Music Fest, a six-day desert festival, playing sold-out arenas along the way. Rayne brushed aside Kris's offer of finding a hotel, saying it would be more convenient for everyone if he just stayed where he was. One less trip for Butch to make in the morning when he collected everyone. Kris caved without more than a token protest. A hotel room sounded lonely after two days of constant company.\n\nThat evening, as the sun started to slip below the horizon, he spread his belongings over the guest room bed and looked at the trappings of a life that wasn't yet his. The little red Fender lay on top, gleaming up at him. It was even brighter and more beautiful by itself, without the competition from the hundred other guitars in the shop, and Kris loved it with his entire heart. He was bringing his acoustic too; he couldn't bear leaving it behind after all these years, even if he wouldn't play it onstage. Folded neatly in a borrowed suitcase were his new stage clothes. He got a buzz just from looking at them, like they had the power to turn him into someone new, and he couldn't wait to find out who that person was.\n\nHis phone buzzed with an incoming text from his mom. Kris, have just heard from your cousin. PLEASE CALL US.\n\nHe winced, moved the guitar aside to perch on the edge of the bed, and video-called home. It connected immediately and his parents and younger sister, Cass, stuttered into frame. He was relieved to see that Brad, his older brother, was absent\u2014while his parents were remarkably open-minded for small-town folks, Brad had leaned increasingly to the right ever since falling in with the wrong crowd at community college, and there was no way he'd be pleased about Kris wearing girls' jeans or joining a glam band, no matter how punk it was.\n\n\"Hi, everybody,\" he said. \"So, I've got news.\"\n\n\"Kris,\" his mom said. \"Kris, your aunt called and told us about Marty. What happened? Why didn't you come home?\"\n\n\"I didn't want to give up that quickly, but it worked out! I was just going to call you and tell you the news.\"\n\n\"Good news?\" his dad asked.\n\n\"Really good news.\" He felt shaky, balancing on the precipice of saying it out loud for the first time to someone else. \"I've got a job and a place to stay, at least for now. The money's good, and I'm excited for it.\"\n\n\"What job?\" his dad pressed.\n\n\"Um, I joined a band . . .\"\n\nCassie gave an excited squeak.\n\n\"A real band,\" he added. \"We're leaving for tour tomorrow\u2014I signed a contract and everything. It's totally professional.\"\n\n\"What band?\" Cass asked.\n\n\"The Chokecherries?\"\n\nShe let out an inarticulate yell and leaped from the couch, pacing with barely contained energy. \"Like, as a roadie?\" she demanded.\n\n\"As their guitarist.\"\n\nShe made a noise like a pterodactyl.\n\n\"Do you know them, sweetie?\" his mom asked.\n\n\"They're huge,\" Cass gushed. \"Kris, you met them? You met Rayne Bakshi?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Kris said. \"Rayne's really nice. I'm staying at his penthouse. And I like their music. This is basically the best thing that could've happened to me.\"\n\n\"You're staying at Rayne Bakshi's penthouse.\"\n\n\"He's in the next room; don't make this weird.\"\n\n\"I have a poster of him in my bedroom,\" Cassie said. \"I learned drums playing along to their songs. Oh my god.\"\n\n\"Hang on,\" his dad said. \"You signed a contract?\"\n\n\"It's totally legit,\" Kris assured him. \"They had lawyers walk me through it and everything. They were really professional. There was a limo.\"\n\n\"And you're getting paid?\" his mom checked.\n\nKris could still see the amount dancing behind his eyelids every time he blinked. There were a lot of zeroes. \"I'm getting paid. It's good money, Mom. I'm going to be okay. I'll send you the tour schedule when I figure it out\u2014we're going west to this Nevada festival first with a few stops on the way, and then heading back east again.\"\n\n\"You're going to be a rock star,\" Cassie stressed.\n\n\"I came here hoping to land a session gig or something, do a few anonymous backing tracks, but this is so much better than anything Marty's boss could have set me up with. It fell into my lap right when I needed it most, and it would be crazy stupid to turn it down, you know?\"\n\n\"Rayne Bakshi fell into your lap,\" Cassie said. \"Oh my god, Kris.\"\n\n\"We're happy for you,\" his mom promised, \"but you'll be careful, won't you? You hear stories about rock bands, and life on the road . . .\"\n\n\"Heroin,\" Cassie coughed.\n\n\"I'll be fine, Mom. We're all adults.\"\n\n\"I know you are! I just worry.\"\n\n\"You don't have to anymore. I've got a contract and a full-blown benefactor and a job I think I'm going to love. If you need to worry, worry about my idiot cousin who got himself kicked out and fired in a single move.\"\n\nHis parents sighed in unison.\n\n\"Marty was never a bright kid,\" his dad said. \"I'm glad you didn't end up staying with him.\"\n\n\"Same. Rayne has a really nice place, you know. There's a balcony.\"\n\n\"Of course there's a balcony. Send me pictures,\" Cassie said.\n\n\"I'm not sending you pictures of his apartment, you little stalker.\"\n\n\"Okay, that was a bit stalkerish,\" she conceded. \"Send me a picture of him instead? Take a selfie! Is he still in the next room?\"\n\n\"He's probably busy; leave him alone. Anyway, I'm sure you'll see videos from the tour.\"\n\n\"I will,\" Cassie said. \"I'll show them to you guys,\" she added to their parents. \"Now that Kris is with The Chokecherries, you have to see everything they've ever done.\"\n\nTheir parents visibly steeled themselves, but nodded.\n\n\"Listen, I'm going to go to bed,\" Kris said. \"We're heading out first thing, and I've had a really long couple of days. I'll text lots, okay?\"\n\n\"Skype when you can,\" his mom said. \"It's nice to see your face. Did you do something with your hair?\"\n\n\"Maybe? Love you! Bye!\"\n\nHe ended the call and stretched out on the bed on top of all his new clothes, his phone held against his heart, and he stared up at the ceiling as the day's last light chased itself over the walls and down below the horizon. After finishing community college, he had worked in his dad's garage, and the years had passed without him noticing. It wasn't until Cassie had decided she was going away to get a bachelor's degree out of state\u2014the first of all the Goldings, to their parents' pride and joy\u2014that Kris had realized he could leave too. Now Cassie was almost done college and Kris was twenty-five, and he felt like he had a whole decade of misspent youth to catch up on. Joining a band and crossing the country on a sold-out tour sounded like a solid way to start. He couldn't stop smiling.\n\nThe Chokecherries shared a tour bus while a second bus housing their opening act, Passionfruit, would join them at their first show in Pennsylvania. The bus was a tight fit, but overall roomier than Kris had expected, with a bathroom at the back and a fridge at the front. There were eight bunks and a couch crammed in, leaving little leg space, but Kris didn't take up much room.\n\n\"The international leg of the tour is all flying,\" Rayne said, \"so I really fought for the buses while we stayed in the States. It's a classic, you know? I wanted that experience.\"\n\n\"I get it,\" Kris said. \"It makes it more about the journey than the destination.\"\n\nRayne beamed. \"Exactly!\"\n\nHersheypark Stadium was only a few hours away, and though the whole band and crew were buzzing with energy, Kris toppled straight into nerves. Despite going to bed early the night before, he'd stayed awake for hours fantasizing about the tour, and now he was ready to crash. He sat on the couch, his back pressed to the window, and listened to The Chokecherries' albums on repeat, struggling to keep up on his guitar. The others gave him space, careful not to interrupt, though he must have been driving them nuts. After the third hour, Rayne finally dropped into the seat beside him, and Kris tugged his earbuds out.\n\n\"How's it going?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"I don't want to fuck up in front of twenty thousand people.\" The words rushed out in a single panicked breath.\n\n\"You played our New York show fine. Pretend it's like that again.\"\n\n\"Yeah, no, I was scared shitless then too,\" Kris admitted. \"I just didn't say anything. And that was only playing covers, but now it's your music, and I might be freaking out a tiny bit.\"\n\n\"Do you think you're going to fuck up?\"\n\nKris shrugged and gnawed his lip.\n\n\"I probably will,\" Rayne offered. \"I mess up lyrics all the time. If anyone asks, I say I did it on purpose, but I don't actually notice. Stef fucked up a bass solo on our first tour.\"\n\n\"Epically fucked,\" Stef agreed from the other side of the bus. \"I was so high I couldn't remember what song we were doing, so I did a Flea cover instead. It was awesome.\"\n\n\"I just want to make a good impression,\" Kris said. \"I thought the nerves would go away now that I've done it once, but I think they've gotten worse.\"\n\nRayne put his arm around Kris's shoulders, and Kris leaned into him, careful not to stick him with the neck of the guitar. Rayne was warm and solid and his hair smelled good.\n\n\"Believe me when I say you're going to kick ass onstage tonight. You're a natural performer, Kris. You might not realize it yet, but you will.\"\n\nRayne said it with a conviction Kris didn't know how to fight, and besides, he wanted to believe it. He turned, leaned his back against Rayne's shoulder, and popped his earbuds back in, returning to track one of their set list as he hefted his guitar back into place. He could do this. Talking about his nerves hadn't made them go away, but Rayne's confidence was hard to resist.\n\nBy the time they rolled into the venue, the borrowed confidence wasn't good enough anymore, and the butterflies in Kris's stomach were ready to eat him alive. His legs shook a little as he disembarked onto solid ground. Rayne intervened as the second bus pulled up behind them, dragging Kris over to meet Passionfruit before he could get any more worked up.\n\n\"Angel introduced us during last year's festival circuit,\" he explained, \"and we just knew we had to do something together. These guys have incredible energy onstage; you have to see them play. They're insane in all the best ways.\"\n\nPassionfruit was a four-man band, and they spilled out of their bus to greet The Chokecherries like long-lost friends, the one at the forefront pulling Angel into a hug before even saying hello.\n\n\"New guitarist, Kris,\" Rayne said. \"Kris, Billie\u2014and Jay, Hatchwork, and Knocks. Vocals, guitar, bass, and drums, in that order.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" the band chorused.\n\n\"Hi,\" Billie said, detaching from Angel's side.\n\nHe was ghostly pale, with messy black hair and smudges of maybe makeup, or maybe signs of exhaustion under his eyes, and he had the softest voice Kris had ever heard. Jay was M\u00e9tis and sporting a devil's lock and a mischievous spark in his eye; Hatchwork wore an impressively waxed auburn moustache; and Knocks was skinny, dark, and had a head of curls that would give Rayne a run for his money. The others disbanded almost immediately after introductions, wandering off in different directions to explore the venue, until only Billie remained.\n\n\"You ready for this?\" he asked.\n\n\"Haven't decided yet,\" Kris said. \"Might sit and panic about it a bit longer.\"\n\n\"That's a valid option,\" Billie agreed.\n\n\"No one's panicking,\" Rayne said. \"We're going straight into rehearsal, and by the time we're done, he'll be raring to go.\"\n\n\"Or that,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Cool,\" Billie said. \"I should go find Jay before he sets something on fire. See you around!\"\n\nKris stared after him. \"Fire?\"\n\n\"Honestly, it's best not to ask,\" Rayne said. \"Come on, come get your stuff set up.\"\n\nRehearsal went as well as Kris could hope. He fucked up a few times, but so did everyone else. Playing a Chokecherries' set felt different from playing covers: the energy was tighter, almost crackling in the air, so sharp Kris could taste it. The butterflies in his stomach spiraled faster in synchronized loops, threatening to choke him, but he swallowed them down and played like his life depended on it. When Rayne finally called a break for lunch and the others dispersed for snacks and water, Kris stayed where he was, his fingers clenched around the neck of his guitar.\n\n\"You're doing great,\" Rayne said. \"You want food?\"\n\n\"Actually great, or you're just saying that so I'll stop freaking out?\"\n\n\"I can't mean both at once?\" Rayne prodded him until Kris relented and lifted the guitar from around his shoulders. \"Eat,\" Rayne ordered. \"Or drink some water, at least. The doors open at seven; we take the stage at nine.\"\n\nIt was 1 p.m. Kris tried to remember the last time he'd had a full night's sleep: before the flight, for sure. Maybe he should get another coffee.\n\n\"Jay's got energy drinks,\" Rayne said, as if reading his mind, \"but they might kill you. Imbibe with caution.\"\n\n\"Caution. Roger that.\"\n\n\"I want to run through this one more time during sound check at five,\" Rayne said, \"and Angel wants you in her chair by six.\"\n\nKris swallowed and nodded.\n\n\"Don't play your fingers to the bone before then, okay?\"\n\nRayne put his hand on Kris's shoulder and ran it down Kris's arm in a long stroke, leaving tingles trailing in his wake. Kris leaned into it, desperate for any reassurance he could get, and Rayne didn't hesitate before pulling him into a hug.\n\n\"I get it,\" Kris said into Rayne's shoulder. \"Why you guys are so touchy-feely. It's because you're all on the verge of a mental breakdown at any second, isn't it? I thought you were all, like, in touch with your emotions and stuff, but you're actually just hella stressed all the time.\"\n\nRayne huffed out a laugh and rubbed circles between Kris's shoulder blades, and Kris went boneless against him, practically purring.\n\n\"You'll get used to it,\" Rayne said. \"The preshow nerves never go away completely, but you'll find ways to manage them. Or you'll get a therapist and a nice antianxiety prescription. Either way, you'll play the shows and you'll be fine.\"\n\n\"Can I keep getting hugs in the meantime?\" Kris asked.\n\nRayne squeezed him tighter. \"For sure. Anytime you need one, you come find me.\"\n\n\"Your hugs are really great.\" Kris dug his chin into Rayne's shoulder\u2014he had to stand on his toes to reach it\u2014and from there he nuzzled into Rayne's mane of hair. Rayne's shampoo was citrusy, but his cologne smelled like sandalwood and peppermint. Kris breathed in deep to carry it with him through the show. \"Macho guys never hug other guys. They're missing out.\"\n\n\"Yeah, they are,\" Rayne said, and ruffled his fingers through Kris's hair. \"You're tiny and pretty and you play guitar like a fucking prodigy. You want to fling yourself into my arms, you do it. That's a sacrifice I can make.\"\n\n\"Take one for the team,\" Kris mumbled.\n\nRayne pushed him back far enough to look him in the eye. \"By the end of the night, you're going to be a rock star, and you're going to love it.\"\n\n\"Promise?\"\n\n\"Cross my heart, babe. You're going to have it all.\"\n\nKris went to find Angel later in the afternoon. She was holding court in the Passionfruit dressing room, engrossed in a conversation about eye shadow brands with Billie. Both seemed to be taking it very seriously. Kris knocked on the doorframe and leaned in. \"Am I interrupting?\"\n\n\"Billie's a makeup aficionado too,\" Angel said. \"This is Kris's first time getting done up,\" she added to Billie. \"He's never tried before.\"\n\n\"Oh cool,\" Billie said. \"You'll love it. I started doing mine in high school\u2014emo phase, you know.\" He shrugged self-deprecatingly. \"One of those things you never really shake.\"\n\n\"Did you need something?\" Angel asked.\n\n\"No, I'm just having a tiny breakdown about the show tonight, so I thought I'd come hang out here.\" Kris scuffed his toe across the floor. \"I mean, if that's okay. I can go somewhere else if you're busy. I'm looking for a distraction.\"\n\n\"I can go get Jay,\" Billie offered. \"He's, like, a walking distraction.\"\n\n\"Setting stuff on fire?\" Kris asked.\n\nBillie frowned. \"Not on purpose. He's accident prone, and the accidents don't always follow the laws of physics, so I've found it's best to prepare for the worst possible outcome and err on the side of caution.\" He paused. \"Actually, I should go find him.\" He slid from his chair, passed Kris, and departed with a backward wave.\n\n\"Billie and I were roommates in art school,\" Angel said. \"He's a doll. That's where I learned that the best way for me to deal with stress is to do makeup, and since you came to me, that's my suggestion. Get your makeup done. You'd have to do it in another hour or two anyway, so you might as well.\"\n\n\"Sure, why not. Beats pacing for another hour, right? And if I practice any more, my fingers are going to fall off.\"\n\n\"That would suck,\" she agreed. She gestured for him to follow her to The Chokecherries' room, where Kris hopped up into the chair and folded his hands in his lap.\n\n\"Close your eyes and let me work some magic on you. You'll feel better in no time.\"\n\nKris obeyed. The dressing room setup was wildly different from her salon at Rayne's: still brightly lit with a huge mirror, but not nearly as streamlined or personalized. It didn't seem to make any difference to Angel; she could probably work in the dark and it would come out great. Her hands were steady against his face, wielding brushes and pencils and other, more exotic instruments Kris couldn't identify. He kept his eyes shut the whole time, and as she worked, she chatted\u2014about her club in New Orleans, how she met Billie and Jay in art school, and how Billie was the first person she'd ever come out as trans to, and about her plans for after the tour. Her words washed over Kris like a stream, and he gradually relaxed, muscle by muscle. He didn't have to talk back\u2014he tried a few times, and she told him to stop moving his face\u2014but he hummed here and there, just to show he was still paying attention.\n\nAfter maybe half an hour, her talking lulled for a second and he twitched.\n\n\"Okay,\" she said. \"Open your eyes.\"\n\nKris blinked and stared into the mirror reflecting a face he couldn't recognize. It looked bewildered but very, very pretty.\n\nOver his shoulder, Angel smiled. \"What do you think?\"\n\nKris opened his mouth and all that came out was \"Wow.\"\n\n\"Good wow?\"\n\nHis lips were dark red, like oxblood; his eyes were done up with smoky eye shadow in jewel tones, and rimmed with thick black kohl. The mascara made his lashes feel like spider legs. He blinked, his reflection blinked back, and the fact that it was really him slammed into him. The makeup didn't have the exaggerated contours of drag, and he didn't look like a girl, but he didn't look much like a boy anymore either. He was caught somewhere between the binaries in a space he hadn't realized existed, and it thrilled him to his core.\n\n\"It's really drastic in the light,\" Angel said, \"but onstage it'll be amazing. Just wait till the others see you.\"\n\n\"Wait, don't bring anyone in yet,\" Kris said. \"I want a minute to admire myself first.\"\n\nHe looked like some hedonist's wet dream from the seventies, androgynous and fey.\n\n\"You do that,\" she said. \"I'm going to do your hair.\"\n\nHe still wasn't used to the blond. It was so pale it was nearly white, and next to the makeup it made him seem ghostly. Angel had buzzed the sides short back in New York, and now she fluffed it up along the top, teasing it with hairspray before easing wax along the roots and the bangs. It wasn't long enough to really style, but Angel promised she could work magic with anything as long as it sat still, so Kris waited, making faces in the mirror until he could recognize himself again. Angel fixed his hair up like a cockatoo's ruff and stood back with her hands on her hips.\n\n\"Rayne is going to drop dead when he sees you.\"\n\n\"In a good way?\"\n\n\"In the best way,\" she promised.\n\nKris grinned. A pleased little blush spread over his cheeks, visible even through the makeup, but he didn't care. Angel had been right\u2014the routine and the attention had calmed him, and now that he had a mask in place, he felt ready to take on anything. He changed into his stage clothes, feeling heady and invincible, and from there went backstage for sound check and one last rehearsal.\n\nIt didn't take long for Rayne to notice him. Kris kept his head down and his attention trained on his guitar. He didn't stop when he heard Rayne's boots clicking over the floor behind him, and he didn't stop when Rayne circled around to stand in front of him and stare, either.\n\n\"It's good, right?\" Kris asked, aiming for confidence and falling just short.\n\n\"Fuck, Kris.\"\n\nHe glanced up.\n\nRayne was studying him in open appreciation, from the outfit to the makeup and hair and back again. Kris licked his lips self-consciously and came away with the bitter taste of lipstick on his tongue.\n\n\"Gorgeous,\" Rayne proclaimed, though he seemed like he wanted to say something more.\n\nKris fidgeted with his guitar and ducked his head, infinitely pleased. His face was hot.\n\n\"You're going to inspire a thousand crises of teenage sexuality,\" Rayne said, slinging his arm around Kris's shoulders.\n\n\"Just what I always wanted,\" Kris deadpanned. \"My mom will be so proud.\"\n\n\"She should be. You ready?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\n\"Close enough. I still get nervous before a show. Like I've got a live wire running through me. It's good.\" Rayne nodded, seemingly more to himself than to Kris. Kris nodded along anyway.\n\nPassionfruit, Kris learned, was not just an opening act. They weren't worried about converting The Chokecherries' fans to their music; they brought their own fans who screamed for them and knew all their lyrics, and Passionfruit whipped them into a frenzy. Kris watched from the side, burning with secondhand adrenaline. They were half-feral and completely unrecognizable from when Kris had first met them. Billie was unstoppable. Whether Jay was slamming into him like a battering ram or the crowd was surging up against security to mount the barrier, he never missed a note, singing his throat raw.\n\n\"The crowd looks ready to riot,\" Kris said.\n\nRayne laughed. \"You didn't get many punk bands out your way, huh?\"\n\n\"We were more of a country town. Banjos and shit.\"\n\n\"That's terrifying,\" Rayne said mildly. \"You ready?\"\n\nOnstage, Passionfruit didn't wind down so much as drop abruptly out of their last song. Billie said something about love and respect\u2014the crowd screamed\u2014the drum kit crashed\u2014and the band came staggering backstage as the lights went dark. They were all soaked in sweat but their smiles were incandescent; The Chokecherries hugged or patted them as they passed.\n\n\"Twenty minutes,\" Rayne said in Kris's ear.\n\nThe crew nipped out to turn the stage over for them, clearing away things the fans had thrown\u2014pamphlets and flowers and the occasional item of intimate clothing\u2014and wiping up the spilled water. Kris vibrated with restrained energy as the crowd chanted in a low rumble of anticipation, waiting to overflow. His blood felt like mercury in his veins.\n\nSomething must have shown in his expression because Rayne said, \"Come here,\" and drew him into an embrace, tucking him in close so Kris couldn't protest.\n\nKris pressed his face against the ridges of Rayne's jacket buckles, careful not to disturb his makeup, and breathed in. Rayne smelled warm, like spices, and his jacket was clean and leathery.\n\n\"You've got this,\" Rayne said. \"They're going to love you.\"\n\n\"Promise?\"\n\n\"Promise. I do, so they have to, because I'm not getting rid of you anytime soon.\"\n\nOne by one, the rest of the band slipped onto the stage until it was only Rayne and Kris left behind. The crowd sounded insatiable. Lenny kicked up the drums to a roar of screams, and Stef opened with a slinky bass line minutes later. By the time Maki set the keyboard in motion the roar was deafening\u2014twenty-seven thousand voices all demanding Rayne.\n\n\"Your turn,\" Rayne said.\n\nHis eyes were dark in the dim lights, and Kris could feel his heart skipping through their clothes. Kris gave him one last squeeze for luck before ducking through the curtain and taking the stage.\n\nIt was blinding. The noise was unreal, even through his earpieces; the stage pulsed under his feet with every beat. He could barely see the crowd through the stage lights\u2014they were a sea of dark shapes, no faces, only voices. He took his position on stage left, planted his feet, and tried to breathe. The music helped. He matched his breaths to the rhythm of the bass and struck up the chords to the intro as the screams reached a crescendo, and he knew Rayne was coming.\n\nThey charged into the intro song as Rayne took the stage, the crowd falling back as soon as he started to sing. By the time they reached the chorus, the pace was blistering, the crowd manic, and Kris's nerves were seared away under the onslaught. He felt bare\u2014no insecurities, no fears, no stress. It was like he belonged on the stage, like he'd been born there, and there was nowhere else in the universe he should be instead.\n\nThe intro finished with a flourish and the crowd roared as Rayne grinned and took the mike from its stand.\n\n\"Hi, guys,\" he said, then waited for the cries to die down again. \"It's great to be back. A lot's changed in the past two years\u2014maybe you heard we got a new guitarist? Well, maybe not. We've been keeping him a secret.\"\n\nKris twanged out a few chords in response and Rayne laughed. A ripple ran through the crowd.\n\n\"I like him,\" Rayne continued. \"I hope you guys do too. But first, let me introduce the more familiar faces. On bass, we have Stef Morganstern.\"\n\nStef thumbed out something dark and sexual as Rayne swayed to the beat, center stage.\n\n\"On drums, Lenny Lawson.\"\n\nEvery beat brought Kris closer to his own introduction, and his heart lodged in his throat, nervous and tight. The butterflies in his stomach were so intense he thought their hurricane might carry him away.\n\n\"On keyboards, the lovely Maki Ito.\"\n\nMaki played a little scale, so sharp it had teeth.\n\n\"And finally, on guitar.\" Rayne turned to him. The lights lit him up from behind like he was haloed. \"Our brand-new member, Kris Golding!\"\n\nKris launched into his solo like he was throwing himself off a cliff. His hand stayed steady on the strings, though he couldn't remember a single note they'd practiced together. He flew into an improvisation, barely knowing what the next note might be, and above it all, the crowd screamed their greeting.\n\n\"Now you know,\" Rayne said, \"this is his first time touring. In fact, this is the very first show over a hundred people that he's ever played. So I want you to give him a lot of love, okay? Give him as much love as you can.\" He let them scream themselves hoarse a minute longer before continuing. \"And obviously I'm Rayne Bakshi, and we are The Chokecherries.\"\n\nIf Kris hadn't taped the set list to the floor in front of him, he would have been lost. As it was, he swam through the next few songs back-to-back with barely a pause to catch his breath. How Rayne did it, he didn't know. Kris only got lost once, stumbling for a second at the start of the third track, but if anyone noticed they didn't say. He invented a melody when he had to; it was too early to rely on muscle memory. But even when he couldn't remember the name of the song they were playing, the words to the next verse, or exactly how his solo was meant to go, he breathed in the thick air, crackling with energy, and reveled in it.\n\nThere was nothing better than sweating through his shirt under the volcanic glow of the lights, basking in the attention of twenty-seven thousand fans, all screaming Rayne's words back to him. He lost himself in the rhythm, concentrating on playing. Rayne was on fire, and the crowd was wild, swelling and crashing like a wave against the barrier. Kris looked up in time to see Rayne prowling over and a reckless feeling surged through him, his fingers never slowing against the strings. When Rayne was close enough to touch, Kris wondered what he was doing, but that wonder stuttered out in a split second as Rayne closed the gap, curling his hand behind Kris's neck to draw their mouths together.\n\nKris shut his eyes and saw red, a flood of heat that started in his lips and surged through him like a bolt of lightning. Every atom in his body sang, and when he inhaled, all he could smell was Rayne: peppermint and citrus and sandalwood and sweat. His knees buckled and he keened, leaning into Rayne for balance, his guitar the only thing stopping him from melting into the embrace.\n\nHe opened his eyes when Rayne let go, dazed and dizzy, and Rayne smiled like a promise before turning back to the crowd. Kris fumbled a note before regaining his wits. His legs were still weak; he locked his knees and braced himself to keep from falling. Across the stage he caught Stef's gaze. Stef winked and blew him a kiss.\n\nKris dropped his eyes back to his guitar, staring at his own hands like he was twelve and just learning to play. The rest of the show passed in a blur of colored lights and heat and a beat so throbbing that Kris could barely tell whether it was the bass, the drums, or his own pulse. As they crashed into their final track, Kris felt drunk from success. The last note from Stef's bass ripped through the air, and he staggered offstage to untangle himself from his guitar and dump a bottle of water over his head. Rayne collided with him like a freight train, wrapping his arms around Kris's chest from behind and pressing his face into Kris's neck. Kris sagged back against him like he'd been waiting for it all his life.\n\n\"Encore in five,\" Rayne announced, his hands trailing over Kris's shoulders as he withdrew.\n\nKris paced backstage, running his fingers through his hair. The water had done nothing to the spray; whatever Angel used, it was impervious to the elements and kept Kris's hair in place like a crown. When Rayne finally called them back to the stage, Kris felt more jittery than before, but stepping under those lights and hearing the roar of the crowd let him breathe again.\n\n\"We were perfect,\" Rayne said.\n\nThey shed their instruments and most of their clothes backstage, downing water like they were dying. Kris peeled his shirt off, not caring who was watching, and all the while Rayne circled them like a shark, unable to keep his hands off anyone for too long.\n\n\"You like your first show?\" Stef asked.\n\n\"Perfect,\" Kris echoed, panting through his grin.\n\nRayne grinned back, catching his hand and tangling their fingers together, and for a second Kris thought Rayne was going to kiss him again. His enthusiasm was infectious, and so was his skin hunger. Kris launched himself at him, and Rayne wrapped his arms around Kris's middle, lifting him off the floor. Burying his face in Rayne's neck, Kris laughed.\n\n\"I'm in a band,\" he said, breathless as soon as his feet touched the ground. \"I'm touring in a band. I'm going to be famous.\"\n\n\"As soon as those videos go online, you will be,\" Stef said. \"You're Rayne Bakshi's new boy toy.\"\n\n\"There are worse things to be,\" Rayne said.\n\nHe still hadn't let go, though Kris was standing on his own two feet again. They kept their arms wrapped around each other, leaning in. Kris was trapped in orbit and wildly, excruciatingly happy. He felt so high coming offstage he thought his heart might burst straight from his chest\u2014he understood why so many bands got caught up in drugs and booze and parties trying to sustain the sensation. He shivered at the memory of the kiss, his lips burning as he raised his hand to brush his fingers over them. Rayne just pulled him closer, one hand mussing through Kris's hair as the other planted itself warmly over his heart.\n\n\"Yeah, there are worse things,\" Kris agreed.\n\nThe band eventually separated, wandering off to find food or drinks or a bathroom, and Kris headed for the bus, needing to lie down before he fell over. His phone buzzed with a text before he even left the venue.\n\nCass: OMG YOU DOG.\n\nIt took him a solid minute to realize that of course his sister would have been scouring the internet for concert footage, and of course there would be a lot to find. He had kissed Rayne in front of twenty-seven thousand people\u2014or rather, Rayne had kissed him, and he'd kissed back.\n\nHis parents were going to see that footage.\n\nOops? he replied.\n\nShe called him less than a second later.\n\n\"Hi, Cassie.\"\n\n\"That show looked so good!\" she yelled. He held the phone away from his ear. \"You looked amazing\u2014holy shit, I couldn't recognize you at first! If I hadn't known it was you, I never would have guessed.\"\n\n\"Thanks?\" he hazarded.\n\n\"So good,\" she stressed. \"Amazing. Was it good? Did you like it?\"\n\n\"The show?\"\n\n\"No, dumbass\u2014yes, the show! I'm not actually going to grill you about the kiss,\" she added. \"If it was anyone else up there, I'd say it was hot, but as my brother, you made it weird.\"\n\nHe decided not to dig into that. \"The show was mind-blowing,\" he said instead. \"It was everything I ever wanted. You have no idea, Cass, it was . . . everything.\"\n\n\"I bet,\" she said wistfully. \"Shit man, I'm so happy for you. Mom and Dad watched the video, by the way. You should've seen their faces.\"\n\n\"Uh, maybe not.\"\n\n\"No, you should have! They're going to call you next, you know, so you should call them first. They seem cool with it. I told them it was a performance thing. Fan service, you know? Lots of guys get freaky onstage for attention. Anyway, the video was pretty crappy; it was too low-res for them to get really scandalized.\"\n\n\"That's good?\" Kris offered, hesitantly.\n\n\"Was it scandalous, though?\"\n\nKris thought about the hot press of Rayne's lips on his, the brush of his hair against Kris's face. \"I don't know. It happened so quickly.\"\n\n\"Did he slip you the tongue?\"\n\n\"I thought you weren't grilling me about this.\"\n\nShe crowed in triumph.\n\n\"No!\" he said. \"No, he didn't! Or\u2014I don't think he did. Or I did.\"\n\nThey both paused.\n\n\"I told you he was hot,\" Cass said.\n\nKris sighed. \"Bye, Cass. I'll text you later, 'kay?\"\n\n\"Bye, Kris! Give my love to Rayne!\" She ended the call with a wet smacking noise and, from what Kris could tell, zero shame.\n\nHe texted his parents rather than call them, a quick note that he was heading out with the band and he'd call in the morning. Then, like a complete coward, he turned his phone off and hoped his brother wouldn't find the footage along with the rest of his family.\n\nAs far as Kris's hometown was concerned, he was straight. He'd never kissed a man before Rayne, and he'd definitely never done more than that. He might have thought about it with different people over the years, but since he liked girls and girls liked him, he'd seen no reason to push himself into uncharted territory that would have gotten his teeth kicked in in certain parts of town. That, and everyone knew some distant relative or friend of a friend who'd been disowned for getting involved with the wrong sex. Though Kris couldn't imagine his parents doing anything like that, he couldn't help but heed the warnings.\n\nSo he knew bisexuality was a thing, and that it almost definitely applied to him, but he'd never had the chance to take it for a test run, as it were, back in Kansas.\n\nBeing on tour with The Chokecherries was providing ample opportunity.\n\nAnyone could see Rayne was attractive. Girls wanted him and men wanted to be him, and maybe there was a little crossover between the two. Kris wasn't entirely sure on which side of the line he fell\u2014though he had suspected it ran to the former, even before they'd kissed\u2014but he had the chance to find out, and that was more than most people could say.\n\nHe shook his head. His post-show nap would have to wait; he needed to see Rayne.\n\nKris found him lounging on the couch in their dressing room, sharing a smoke with Angel. Rayne was still dressed for the stage, black from head to toe, with rhinestones on his boots and glitter in his hair.\n\n\"Want a hit before Butch drags us back to the bus?\" Rayne asked, offering the pipe. It was glass, handblown, with a multitude of colors swirling around from stem to bowl.\n\nKris accepted it and took a drag. The weed helped bolster his courage. \"Thanks. Can I talk to you for a sec?\"\n\n\"Yeah, of course.\" Rayne blinked, then visibly pulled himself together. \"Oh\u2014are we cool? I should have asked earlier. I get carried away sometimes, and boundaries, you know, blur.\" He raked his hand through his hair, looking sheepish. \"Do I need to apologize?\"\n\n\"For offending my delicate sensibilities?\"\n\n\"Or something,\" Rayne agreed.\n\nKris's lips tingled in memory of the kiss, and his gaze dropped to Rayne's for a second of its own accord. Angel glanced back and forth between them, cleared her throat, and stood. \"I'm going to go find Billie and the guys,\" she said. \"You guys just . . . have a chat.\" She patted Kris on the chest as she left.\n\nKris took another hit as he considered how to best approach this. However interested Kris might be, Rayne was the one keeping him in the band and off the street, and getting involved with the boss seemed like a monumentally bad idea\u2014especially with Brian threatening to watch for the slightest reason to kick him out of the band. Anyway, it wasn't as if Rayne had kissed him and Kris had fallen instantly in love. He needed to draw a line, make sure they were both clear about where it lay, and then be careful not to cross it.\n\n\"The thing is, I like girls,\" Kris said. \"I've only ever been with them.\n\n\"Okay,\" Rayne said slowly. \"Are you trying to let me down gently or something?\"\n\n\"I don't want any, like, misunderstandings,\" Kris said, sinking into the couch, his knee knocking into Rayne's as he handed the pipe back. \"I'm not complaining, like, at all. I like kissing. I just want to make sure we're on the same page.\"\n\n\"That I'm not harboring any latent, pent-up desires for you?\" Rayne asked, lifting the pipe to his lips again.\n\n\"Right. Exactly.\" Kris's insides burned at the thought. He doused them with the threat of being kicked out of the band if things turned sour.\n\n\"I don't know. Are you offering?\" Rayne jostled Kris's shoulder as he grinned. \"No. It was a lot of adrenaline, and it was our first show together, and I got a bit overexcited. But I make a point not to get involved with straight guys, so it won't happen again.\"\n\n\"Why would a straight guy get involved with another guy at all?\" Kris asked blankly.\n\nRayne shrugged. \"They want to prove how open-minded they are, or they want to experiment, or whatever. Doesn't matter. I won't do it. That way lies heartbreak and misery, believe me.\"\n\nKris opened his mouth with no idea what he was about to say. Before he could find out, Butch stuck his head around the corner, eyed them, and waved them over. \"Bus time, guys. Up and at 'em.\"\n\n\"Hold that thought,\" Kris said to Rayne as they got up, each taking one more long drag on the pipe. He needed a minute to get his brain straightened out. That line he'd drawn looked a little shaky.\n\nKris thought about the kiss for the next hour, tucked away in his bunk as the bus trundled down the highway to New Jersey for their Camden and Newark shows. He lay on his back, his guitar across his ribs, strumming up and down the frets with no real intent. When, after sixty minutes of practicing riffs, he couldn't shake the memory of the kiss from his lips, he set his guitar aside and went to find Rayne. The weed was still curling through his thoughts, heavy and sweet, urging him to erase lines and push boundaries.\n\nRayne was stretched out along the couch in as private an alcove as there was on the bus, his boots propped up on one arm with his head on the other, looking like a giant cat, relaxed and languid.\n\n\"Hey,\" Kris said, testing the limits of his faculties, which were rapidly expanding in all directions. \"So I was thinking about that kiss.\"\n\nRayne rolled his head to the side to glance at him. \"What about it?\"\n\nKris took a deep breath and let his words out in a rush. \"You want to do that again?\"\n\nRayne perked up, lifting his head.\n\n\"Onstage,\" Kris clarified. \"For the show.\"\n\n\"As a regular thing?\"\n\n\"Yeah, like, to amp up the tension and stuff. They'll eat that shit up. Or that's what my sister says, anyway. You said no straight guys, but I'm\u2014\" He cut himself off before he could out himself, and changed tracks. \"I mean, if it's just for the show, that doesn't count, right?\"\n\n\"Kissing,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"Or more. I'm not asking you to maul me out there, but I thought. I wouldn't mind?\"\n\nRayne's eyebrows were up near his hairline. \"Straight.\"\n\nKris shrugged. He didn't want to publicly commit to a label until he was a hundred percent sure of it, and if Rayne thought he was straight\u2014ish\u2014in the meantime, that kept things simple. That, and his Midwest upbringing left him cautious of announcing he was any variety of queer at all, even when he was surrounded by the most welcoming people he could imagine. He just needed the chance to figure out what he liked without the risk of anyone getting hurt, and if Rayne was into it . . .\n\n\"You'd let me do . . . anything?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"I'm pretty sure there are public decency laws and stuff, but anything legal, sure.\"\n\n\"Kris Golding,\" Rayne said, like he was savoring the taste. Kris liked how his name sounded in Rayne's mouth. \"You're a bit of a wild card, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Is that a yes?\"\n\nRayne sat up, dropping his feet to the floor, and stood, tall and suddenly looming. Kris tilted his head back and waited, his breath caught in his throat, as Rayne moved his hand to Kris's hair. He went slowly enough that Kris could duck away if he wanted, but Kris didn't move. Rayne threaded his fingers through Kris's crown.\n\n\"You've never been the center of attention before,\" Rayne said in a low voice. \"You sure you want that?\"\n\n\"As your boy toy?\" Kris asked, repeating Stef from earlier. \"You worried people might think we're fucking?\"\n\nRayne's grip tightened for a second. \"No. Aren't you?\"\n\nKris butted his head against Rayne's hand. \"Nah. It's just kissing. We'll tell everyone it's for the show; it's not like I joined a band and suddenly turned gay. The fans will love it, my family will understand, and you can handle the press.\"\n\nRayne's eyes went dark, the green almost eclipsed by pupil.\n\n\"We don't have to.\" Kris bit his tongue, needling the tip with his teeth as he waited.\n\n\"Honestly? I'm wondering how far you'll let me push it.\"\n\nKris prodded him in the chest, under the collarbone where his chains and pendants started to tangle. \"Probably pretty far. Try it and find out.\"\n\n\"Kissing,\" Rayne said.\n\nKris's lips buzzed with a phantom touch.\n\n\"Hair pulling?\" Rayne tugged on a lock to demonstrate. Kris leaned with it, sparks zinging through his scalp.\n\n\"I'm going to grow it out. By the end of tour it'll be long enough to yank around for real.\"\n\nRayne's lips parted for a second. \"Can I touch you?\"\n\n\"You're touching me right now.\"\n\n\"For the show, brat.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Kris said, and purposefully didn't ask what kind of touch Rayne meant. When Rayne touched him skin to skin, it burned like a furnace and sent him shivering all over in its wake. \"You don't need to write up a contract, you know. You can just do whatever feels right. Whatever you think will work.\"\n\n\"Carte blanche.\" Rayne looked like he wanted to eat Kris alive.\n\n\"Yeah. That.\" Kris's mouth was desert-dry. He ran his tongue over his lips and Rayne's eyes went unfocused for a second before he seemed to snap back into himself and put space between them.\n\n\"God, you're something else. And I thought I might have upset you with that kiss.\"\n\n\"I'm pretty easygoing.\"\n\n\"I'm so lucky I found you.\"\n\n\"I'm the lucky one,\" Kris countered. \"But we're cool?\"\n\n\"We'll mess around onstage and put on a show,\" Rayne said. \"No strings, no complications, no messy feelings.\"\n\nThat sounded perfect. Kris bumped their fists together. \"Sounds good, man.\"\n\nRayne sat back down on the couch, smiling like this was an everyday transaction. Kris thought about lying down and trying to sleep as his skin buzzed from the memory of Rayne's lips on his with twenty-seven thousand people screaming for more. His thoughts were slow and rambling, the high still curling around his brain and making it hard to focus on anything but that kiss.\n\n\"You should find out where Angel gets her stuff,\" he said absently. \"This is good shit.\"\n\n\"She knows what's up,\" Rayne agreed, tipping his head back and letting his eyes fall closed.\n\nThe days turned into a week as they went from New Jersey to Virginia, then Michigan, and Indiana; down to Florida for three shows, to Alabama for one, until they were thirteen days in and playing in New Orleans to twelve thousand people, and Kris had barely had time to catch his breath, let alone work out the details of his attraction to Rayne. In between shows, Rayne did press, giving interviews and sound bites for the flashing cameras, coy when they asked about his love life and honest when they wanted to talk music. Kris didn't know how he had the patience for it, but Rayne took the business side of his music seriously, and gave the press just enough intrigue to keep The Chokecherries in the public eye.\n\nThe band threw themselves into their shows without hesitation. They never played a crowd under ten thousand, and as soon as the people knew to expect Rayne and Kris's midshow kiss\u2014they always had at least one, but as the shows went on the number climbed\u2014they screamed and cheered for more. Kris had worried that with the booze and drugs out of their systems, he and Rayne would reconsider the discussion they'd had after Hershey. It was the most pointless worry Kris had ever had in his life. Rayne's daring only grew as the tour went on, kissing Kris harder, for longer, and more often, running his hands through Kris's hair, tugging on his shirt, playing with his belt while Kris tried not to miss a chord.\n\nThe fan sites swarmed with videos and theories. Cassie sent Kris links to fanfiction featuring his and Rayne's imagined backstage love life, which he quickly learned to avoid without opening, though the first one stuck with him. There was something unsettling about strangers speculating on the details of his nonexistent sex life, especially in such graphic detail\u2014though he could admit it was hot, from under his blanket of embarrassment.\n\nThe more people reacted, the more Rayne pushed, until Kris was looking forward to Rayne's kisses as much as he looked forward to his solos, and their energy burned and crackled as they ramped it up with every show they played. After two weeks of near daily making out, and hugs and casual touches in between, Kris was so acclimatized to Rayne that he thought he might go into withdrawal if he went a day without him.\n\nLuckily, that didn't seem likely\u2014the fans and the press ate up the shows, and the rest of the band seemed delighted by the reaction. Kris was in heaven. By the time they played New Orleans, he felt like he could do this for the rest of his life.\n\nAs soon as they finished their set, Angel was waiting to whisk them offstage and back to the bus, cramming both bands in one, to see her club.\n\n\"Is it like a strip club?\" Kris hazarded, glancing sideways at her to gauge her reaction to his guess.\n\n\"The White Rabbit's a burlesque club,\" she corrected, as Butch turned the engine over and pulled out onto the road. \"We do strip shows, but not like you're thinking.\"\n\nKris's hometown had a bar where the girls dressed provocatively, but technically there was no stripping. Whatever went on in the back room was done under the table, and Kris had never asked about it. He'd only been once, and that at Brad's behest\u2014it had taken him a week to shake the sleazy feeling and look his girlfriend in the eye again. Angel didn't seem capable of running a joint like that.\n\n\"So what's burlesque like?\" he asked.\n\nAngel just smiled, sphinxlike, and Rayne laughed. It didn't answer a thing, but Kris nestled in between them and watched the city stream by, all glowing neon and car taillights, and decided he didn't mind finding out firsthand.\n\n\"My godfather sold me the building for a fraction of its worth,\" Angel explained, \"and I turned it into something completely new.\"\n\n\"It's a beautiful club,\" Rayne added. \"Billie helped design it, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, you bought the place like a year after graduation?\" Billie said. \"And you asked me to help with bits. It was fun, like a giant installation project.\"\n\n\"That was before I met Rayne,\" Angel said.\n\n\"And she didn't introduce me to Billie and Passionfruit until last year, when we\u2014Passionfruit and The Chokecherries\u2014were both playing the same festival together, and Angel was touring with us as our makeup artist,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"Huh,\" Kris said. \"Small world.\"\n\n\"Not too small, or we'd get bored,\" Angel said. \"Here we are.\"\n\nThe bus slowed and pulled over to the side of the street. The White Rabbit was identified by a neon rabbit on a door that was otherwise unmarked, squeezed in between the brick walls of two other clubs. The rabbit glowed fat and white, neither inviting nor off-putting as Angel led them through the door, down the narrow stairs, and onward to greet the bouncer at the bottom. They slipped through without a cover charge, and the guard held the second door open for them as they entered the club beyond.\n\nThe White Rabbit was sumptuous, decadent, and sybaritic, like it had rolled out from an erotic Victorian fantasy. Leather couches lined the walls; the bar glittered with a hundred different kinds of alcohol in glass bottles and crystal decanters. The walls were a deep, rich red like bloodshed or rose petals, the ceiling was covered in tiny mirrors that winked in the changing light, and the place was full of the most beautiful people Kris had ever seen, dressed in leather or lace or lingerie or, in some cases, very little at all. On the stage at the back, someone hidden by huge ostrich plumes like a flapper pinup posed under a spotlight, nothing but long legs, pale skin, and high heels.\n\n\"They're expecting me to take the stage,\" Angel said. \"Grab a seat and enjoy the show.\" She pressed a quick kiss to Rayne's jaw before darting away behind the stage to change.\n\n\"Drinks,\" Rayne said. \"She'll say they're on the house, but we're not doing that. I've got this round.\"\n\nKris ordered something stiffer than his usual; it seemed like he was going to need it. They crowded around a couple of tables that had been saved for them near the stage, and Kris tried to figure out how to look at the other people in the room without being rude. Some of them wore masks and little else, making it impossible to meet their eyes. Kris settled on staring at their shoulders and trying not to blush. Rayne laughed at him, and Kris hid his face behind his drink.\n\nWhen Angel took the stage, the music swelled and the conversation quieted. The beat was sultry and seductive, and she walked out in an enormous fur wrap that covered her from throat to thigh, her heels so high she was almost walking en pointe. She was like a showgirl from the Moulin Rouge, her mouth dark and pouty, her eyes glittering in the low lights of the club. Kris wondered again how he had stumbled out of his universe and into this one\u2014it must have been here all along, just waiting for him to pull back the surface and take a peek.\n\nAngel danced like every eye in the world was on her, and she knew how to give them exactly what they wanted. The fur came away inch by inch revealing a smooth expanse of dark-brown skin, interrupted by the crisscrossing straps of her lingerie, refusing to give away the whole picture at once. She caught Kris's eye, and his mouth went so dry he nearly choked on his own tongue. Rayne put his arm around Kris's shoulders and spoke in his ear, close enough to be heard over the music.\n\n\"Better than you expected?\"\n\n\"Different,\" Kris agreed.\n\nThe music deepened, and Angel stepped from the stage, leaving her fur in a heap behind her. She wore a bra and garter set designed to look like flower petals, and Kris had never seen a more beautiful girl before in his life. She approached Jay, who sat nearest the stage, and curled her fingers under his chin as everyone jeered and wolf-whistled.\n\n\"I'd do this for Billie,\" she said, \"but I know he's shy when he's not onstage.\" She sidled in closer until she was right over his lap, and Jay dropped his head back, laughing helplessly under her attention.\n\n\"I'm filming this and sending it to your fianc\u00e9e,\" Billie cackled.\n\n\"She'll love it,\" Jay countered. \"She'll just be mad she's not here in person.\"\n\nAngel rolled her eyes without pausing in her dance. She swayed her hips, careful not to touch him, her arms crossed above her head as Jay clearly tried to work out where to put his hands without making it awkward. He eventually settled on tucking a folded bill into the top of her stocking. She kissed him on the cheek, leaving a rose-petal of lipstick behind, and stepped back, still moving to the beat.\n\n\"Who else wants to dance with me?\"\n\nRayne looked at Kris, who squeaked.\n\n\"Oh, honey,\" Angel said, stepping closer on those impossible heels until she was near enough to smooth her hand through his hair. \"You don't have to have a dance if you don't want one.\" She leaned in until her lips ghosted over his cheek, and his eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. \"But if you change your mind, you let me know.\"\n\nShe left him and sauntered back to the stage, where the music swelled again and the lights flared to welcome her back. Kris's heart was beating a mile a minute now, and Rayne's arm stayed heavy around his shoulders.\n\n\"You know when you're a kid at a restaurant and someone tells the waiter it's your birthday?\" Kris said.\n\n\"You think being offered a lap dance is as bad as having a roomful of strangers sing at you?\"\n\n\"How red is my face right now? I feel like I'm burning up.\"\n\n\"It makes you look healthy,\" Rayne said.\n\nAngel's number ended and despite Kris's embarrassment, he kept his eyes on her until she disappeared backstage, and the club exploded in applause.\n\n\"Let's get you another drink,\" Rayne decided.\n\nKris couldn't agree more.\n\nHe was buzzed but not drunk when Angel returned, wearing a silk robe over the lingerie, and shoes that, while still aggressively fashionable, seemed considerably less dangerous to walk in. With all the alcohol in his system, Kris had a harder time keeping his eyes from wandering; Angel caught on straightaway and smiled.\n\n\"Like what you see?\" she asked. \"You're allowed to look as long as we're both in the club. That's the whole point of me being onstage.\"\n\n\"You look . . . really nice,\" Kris stuttered, trying his hardest to stay polite.\n\nShe laughed and put her hand on his arm. \"You're the sweetest thing.\"\n\n\"You'd never know I found him on the roadside like a kitten in a cardboard box,\" Rayne agreed. \"Such a gentleman.\"\n\n\"Every time you tell this story, it gets worse,\" Kris complained, without meaning it. \"I was busking!\"\n\n\"You didn't have a permit.\"\n\n\"You need a permit to busk? That might be the first illegal thing I've ever done in my life. Besides the weed, I guess.\"\n\n\"Weed doesn't count.\"\n\n\"I'm sure it won't be the last thing, anyway,\" Angel said. \"Next round is on the house, and, Rayne, don't even try to sneak the bartender your money. I see you. Let's get turned up.\"\n\nKris wasn't sure how he ended up dancing in between Rayne and Angel half an hour later. He wasn't drunk enough to excuse it, but between the post-show high, the exhaustion preceding it, and the giddiness that had followed him ever since meeting Rayne, he might as well be ten shots in. Rayne's hands were on Kris's hips as they moved in tandem to the music, a slow, rhythmic beat slinking out from the speakers. There was a bare inch of space between their bodies; little enough that he could feel Rayne's body heat through his clothes, but they didn't touch. Angel caught his eye and nudged him back to close the gap. Kris's shoulders met Rayne's chest as Rayne caught and held him there, lightly, so Kris could squirm away if he wanted\u2014but he didn't move. He leaned back and let Rayne turn him around so they were face to face, and looked up to meet Rayne's eye.\n\n\"Hi,\" Rayne said.\n\nIn close quarters, surrounded by people, it would be second nature to reach up and kiss him. Kris fought the urge and slipped from Rayne's arms before he could do anything impulsive. No strings, no complications, and no causing trouble. \"I'm going to get another drink.\"\n\nTaking a deep breath, he headed for the bar, signaling for a refill of whatever he'd had last time. He slid onto a stool beside a stranger: tall and blond, not attached to either band, but clearly not a White Rabbit performer, either. The man was wholesomely handsome in a way that made him stand out among the club's sultrier inhabitants, and Kris gave him a smile before reaching for his wallet to pay for his drink.\n\n\"Hey, let me get that,\" the man said, smiling back and offering a few bills to the bartender. \"I'm Tom.\"\n\n\"Kris. Thanks for the drink.\"\n\n\"Are you performing tonight?\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm not\u2014 I'm in a band,\" Kris explained, stupidly proud of being able to say that. \"We're just hanging out.\"\n\nKris was still wearing his makeup from the show, but doubted it had survived without smudging. Angel and the other burlesque performers were flawless, not a line or hair out of place. Maybe Tom was drunker than Kris.\n\n\"I've been coming here for the past few months,\" Tom was saying. \"I haven't seen you before but I assumed\u2014I thought you must be one of the dancers. You're very pretty.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" Kris said again, preening a little. He liked being called pretty; no one ever had before he met Rayne. \"So what do you do, Tom?\"\n\n\"I'm in seminary school,\" Tom said brightly. \"I want to be a youth pastor.\"\n\nKris blinked. \"And you're hanging out in a burlesque club?\"\n\nTom blushed and the freckles on his nose stood out. \"I just wanted to see what it was like. I haven't taken any vows yet.\"\n\n\"Huh.\"\n\n\"There's beauty in everything,\" Tom said, clearly warming to his subject now that Kris hadn't run away screaming. \"I don't want to preach about sin and shame; I want to appreciate God's work in everyone and everything.\" He looked into the depths of his glass. \"I might be drunk.\"\n\n\"I'm not judging you, man,\" Kris said. \"I think it's great that you've got an open mind.\"\n\n\"I don't want to condemn people,\" Tom said, \"not when they haven't hurt anyone. Look at you\u2014a nice young lady\u2014just because we met in a place like this, doesn't mean\u2014\"\n\n\"Hang on,\" Kris said.\n\nTom blinked at him, his expression open and painfully sincere.\n\n\"Never mind,\" Kris said. The alcohol made it seem like too much effort to correct him, and besides, he was strangely flattered by the attention, however misguided. \"Doesn't mean what?\"\n\n\"That you're not blessed,\" Tom said. \"Everyone in here\u2014we're all blessed. Can I get you another drink?\"\n\n\"Why not.\"\n\nKris was tucking into his second, something pink and sugary and with a significantly higher alcohol content than his usual, because girly drinks didn't fuck around, when Rayne joined them, flagging the bartender down.\n\n\"Making friends?\" he asked Kris.\n\n\"This is Tom,\" Kris said. \"He thinks I'm the prettiest girl in the whole club.\" Rayne raised one eyebrow and Kris shrugged. \"What's up?\"\n\n\"Brian,\" Rayne said, with uncharacteristic sourness. Kris made a concerned noise and Rayne waved him off. \"Business stuff. Don't worry about it. I'm just not drunk enough for the conversation he wants to have. I'll tell you about it later.\" The bartender slid him his drink and Rayne took a gulp as he put his money down. He swallowed and smiled. \"Seriously, don't worry. You two kids have fun getting acquainted. Nice to meet you, Tom.\" Rayne saluted them with his drink and slipped back onto the dance floor.\n\nKris watched him go, wondering if he should chase him down and press him for details, but Tom spoke before he could decide.\n\n\"Are you on tour?\"\n\nKris shook Rayne's moodiness off. If it was due to business, he'd find out the cause sooner or later. \"We're heading west to Nevada for the Purple Sage Music Fest. It's my first festival. It's my first lots of things.\" Two weeks into the tour didn't feel any realer than it had on the first day, and he smiled around his straw, bright and tipsily enthusiastic. \"Have you ever been?\"\n\n\"No, I've never done much either,\" Tom said.\n\n\"Well, if you have a pre-priesthood bucket list, add it. A lot of people have, like, spiritual awakenings at music events. Maybe you'll get something out of it.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" Tom agreed, hesitantly. \"I'd like to try as many spiritual experiences as I can.\"\n\n\"Isn't that blasphemous?\"\n\n\"I don't think so. God is everywhere, after all.\" Tom examined his drink again. \"I think He is, anyway.\"\n\n\"You're the one with the calling,\" Kris said with a shrug. \"You must know better than most.\" Tom seemed reassured, and Kris swallowed the last of his drink and clapped him on the shoulder. \"Come see us if you decide to head that way. I'm going to go find my friends.\"\n\nHe found Angel sitting on one of the long, low couches, her legs crossed and a drink in her hand as she looked around her club with the air of a queen surveying her castle. Rayne was beside her on the arm of the couch, and there was something uncharacteristically tense in the way he was holding himself that made Kris pause in his approach, and then hang back amid a throng of dancers.\n\n\"I haven't decided anything yet,\" Rayne was saying, \"but I don't want Kris to hear it from anybody but me. Okay?\"\n\nAngel raised her hands. \"I'm steering clear of all of this.\"\n\nRayne glanced around but apparently didn't catch sight of Kris, then slid down onto the couch cushions, put his arm around Angel's shoulders, and whispered directly into her ear. Intrigued, Kris snuck in nearer, having drunk too much to feel properly guilty about eavesdropping. Something was bothering Rayne, and if Kris was even tangentially involved, he wanted to know what it was. He took up residence behind a giant potted fern at the far end of the couch and tried not to feel overly ridiculous. He missed the first half of Rayne's whispered sentence, but caught \"publicity stunt\" near the end.\n\n\"Me and some guy at the festival,\" Rayne finished.\n\n\"What kind of stunt?\" Angel whispered back.\n\nKris didn't catch what followed, but Angel gasped, and flashed a wicked smile that she quickly hid behind her hand. Rayne heaved a sigh. \"I shouldn't be talking about this at all.\"\n\n\"Security breach.\" Angel nodded sagely.\n\n\"I should go.\"\n\n\"You do that. Get some sleep, and when you've got your head on straight, then you decide what to do about it. No decision-making when you're drunk. You got that?\"\n\n\"Don't tell Kris.\"\n\nRayne swam back into the sea of dancers, and Angel shook her head at his retreating back. Kris, crouched on the floor in the shadows of the plant, tried to make sense of what he'd heard, but all he got for his troubles was a twist in his stomach that had more to do with Rayne keeping secrets than from the alcohol. It served him right for eavesdropping in the first place. He stood, careful not to disturb the leaves and give himself away, and circled around to approach Angel as if he hadn't been hiding amid her d\u00e9cor for the past two minutes. The whole thing left him feeling a bit like a scumbag.\n\nAngel straightened when she caught sight of him and smiled, extending her free hand to beckon him in.\n\n\"Hi,\" Kris said. \"Am I interrupting?\"\n\n\"Of course not; I was just admiring the view. Come sit.\"\n\nKris sat gratefully, tipping sideways into Angel's shoulder. He stole a sip of her drink and she laughed. \"Enjoying yourself?\"\n\n\"I'm good. I like it here. In the club, with the band and everybody.\" He forced the million questions on the tip of his tongue to the back of his mind. He didn't want to think about secrets, not even business-related ones, not when he was so close to having everything he'd ever dreamed of. Shuffling down, he rested his head in her lap. \"This okay?\"\n\n\"Mm. You're an affectionate drunk, aren't you?\"\n\n\"You're just really nice. And comfortable. What's owning a club like?\"\n\n\"A lot of work. I love it, but some days it feels like this place is determined to fall apart around me.\"\n\n\"You can't tell from looking.\" Kris couldn't, anyway; the place was beautiful, and Angel had clearly poured every drop of love she had into it.\n\n\"Boy, this whole place is smoke and mirrors.\" She petted his hair, and he closed his eyes, drifting contentedly on a current of drunkenness. \"I need a live-in repairman to keep on top of things. I wouldn't trade it for the world, though. Not for anything. What I should do is start managing it full-time again, get everything back on track.\"\n\n\"It must be nice to have somewhere to come home to. Somewhere that's all yours.\"\n\n\"Kansas isn't home for you?\" she asked.\n\n\"Nah. Not my hometown, anyway. It's a good place to grow up, or a good place to retire, but there's nothing to do in between. I had to get out.\"\n\n\"Lucky thing Rayne found you.\"\n\n\"Lucky I met him. Lucky I met you too. Need you to keep making me pretty.\"\n\n\"Rayne seems to appreciate it.\"\n\nKris snorted and flicked her knee. \"I appreciate it. I never got to play around with any of this stuff back home. I didn't have the guts. Now you're dressing me up in girls' clothes and makeup and I'm\u2014 Onstage, with the\u2014 It's fun. I wish I could have started years ago.\"\n\n\"Well, you're too old now,\" Angel said matter-of-factly. \"Can't make up for lost time.\"\n\n\"I'm baby-faced.\"\n\n\"Over the hill. Ancient.\" She fluffed his hair. With all the spray in it, it stayed in whatever position she put it. Kris was counting down the days until it would be long enough for her to have some real fun styling. \"Soon you'll go bald, and then what? Career, over.\"\n\n\"I'll get a wig. Rayne would get me a wig, right?\"\n\n\"Honey, I think Rayne would get you anything you asked for.\"\n\nKris hummed, pleased. \"Good.\" He poked her knee again. \"He's a good kisser, you know.\"\n\n\"I figured. A couple hundred thousand people figured.\"\n\nKris grinned and turned to look up at the ceiling, where the mirrors glittered and winked above them. He remembered first meeting Angel; he'd been drunk then too, and had spent the night wondering if he should kiss her, or maybe kiss Rayne. In the end Rayne had made the choice for him, and he didn't regret how it had played out. He didn't regret anything about that night, or anything about the tour after. The constant travel and playing had left him exhausted, but the drinks had taken the edge off and left him boneless and content. Angel was warm beneath him, her fingers twining through his hair, and he was suddenly, intensely grateful for the turn his life had taken.\n\n\"You're a good friend, you know that?\" he said. \"Rayne's lucky to have you. You're just\u2014you're a really a good person, and I'm glad I met you.\"\n\nShe laughed, and he felt it all the way through his body. \"How much have you had to drink, hun?\"\n\n\"Some,\" he admitted, \"but it's still true.\"\n\n\"Well, thank you.\"\n\nTheir conversation paused for a second, and the questions Kris had tried to bury came tumbling back. He chewed on the inside of his lip before finally asking, \"Do you know what's bugging Rayne? He was annoyed with Brian, but he wouldn't tell me what about. Did he talk to you about it?\"\n\n\"It's business stuff, but it might turn out to be nothing. If it is something, he wanted to tell you himself. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, in any case.\"\n\nEven drunk, Kris was skeptical. \"Promise?\"\n\n\"You haven't been around long enough to see the business side of things,\" she said. \"I promise: if it's really important, Rayne or Brian will call a meeting. This is just . . .\" She shrugged. \"Rayne likes to make a fuss once in a while. He's a diva at heart, you know. Then he'll get over it and move on.\"\n\nKris couldn't imagine Angel lying, so he took her at her word and let it slide. Rayne would tell him eventually, and in the meantime, he would pretend he'd never heard anything at all.\n\nThey lapsed back into silence, watching the dancers move over the floor like fish shimmering in a pond. They were beautiful, all leather and lace, and Kris wondered again how he had ended up in such a place, and why it had taken him so long to realize it was where he belonged.\n\n\"Angel?\"\n\nShe blinked and looked down at him. \"Hm?\"\n\n\"When did you know you were trans?\"\n\nShe paused. \"That's a big question,\" she said eventually. \"I didn't start calling myself trans till I was almost through art school, but I did drag for a while before that. I took baby steps to figure it out. Some people know and are out from the minute they're born, and others take a more scenic route, like me. There's no wrong way to do it.\"\n\n\"So you didn't just, like\u2014\" Kris wet his lips. He could still taste the sugar from his last drink on them. \"You didn't just wake up one morning and start dressing in girls' clothes, and like . . .\"\n\n\"Turn queer?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"I don't think it works like that.\" She smoothed his hair down again. \"Why? You got something on your mind?\"\n\n\"The clothes, and the makeup, and stuff. I like it. I like wearing it.\" He bit his lip and glanced up at her. \"I can still be a boy if I do that, right?\"\n\n\"The gender police aren't going to come arrest you because you like wearing skinny jeans, hun. If you want to be a boy, you're a boy.\" She tapped his nose. \"Just like kissing Rayne onstage doesn't make you gay.\"\n\nHis ears burned, suddenly too hot under the club lights. \"I still like girls,\" he blurted, trying to force his blush back before it gave him away.\n\n\"Sure you do,\" she replied, obviously fighting a smile. \"You can still like girls and like kissing Rayne at the same time. They've even got a word for folks who like both. Hell, they've got a couple of words.\"\n\nHe poked her. \"Stop making fun.\"\n\n\"I'm not, sweetie. I'm just saying.\"\n\n\"I don't know if I'm, you know. Ready. For those words yet.\"\n\nHe felt her hum more than he heard it. \"I get that. Anything in particular holding you back?\"\n\nHe shrugged ineffectually. \"Not really? Where I grew up\u2014Kansas isn't a great place for stuff like that. Experimenting, or coming out, or . . . any of it. I guess I'm still wrapping my head around things.\" He chewed on his lip for a minute before tipping his head back to look at her properly. \"You won't tell anybody, right?\"\n\n\"Course not. You can tell whoever you want when you're ready.\" She paused. \"Rayne would be excited to hear it, though. Everybody would, but especially him. Just so you know.\"\n\n\"He's a good guy,\" Kris agreed. \"I know he'd be supportive of whatever.\" He caught a glimpse of Angel rolling her eyes as he settled more comfortably. \"What?\"\n\n\"Nothing, hun.\"\n\nHe huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, still lying on his back with his head on her lap. He knew he looked ridiculous, but he didn't mind. \"He's right, you know,\" he said, apropos of nothing. \"The not-a-priest-yet over there.\" He waved to the bar.\n\n\"Tom? He's been coming here a few months now. He's a good regular. What's he say?\"\n\nKris smiled. He could feel his blush lingering over his nose; it felt like he was glowing. \"That we're blessed. That we're all blessed.\"\n\nThey rolled into Texas at ten the next morning, a solid ten hours before their Dallas show. While the majority of Passionfruit and The Chokecherries seemed happy to bury themselves in their bunks and take the time to sleep in, Rayne was out the door as soon as the bus stopped moving. Kris followed him, blinking in the sudden sun. Whatever had been bothering Rayne at the club seemed to have dissipated overnight, which Kris hoped meant Angel had been right about it being an overreaction. In the meantime Kris, though still curious, was happy to let it go.\n\n\"My tattoo artist from LA has a guest spot at one of the parlors here this week, and I've got an appointment,\" Rayne said, fairly buzzing with energy.\n\nKris was aware of a certain internet faction's obsession with Rayne's tattoos. He'd just never seen more than two in person in any detail before. He knew the mercury sign on Rayne's left thumb and the burst of rose blooms on the side of his neck, but the others remained hidden, only caught in stolen glimpses when Rayne changed backstage. The pictures on the internet didn't do them justice, and anyway, Kris was trying to feel as little like a stalker as possible.\n\nCassie, who emailed him scanned magazine spreads, wasn't helping.\n\n\"What are you getting?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"A snake. She sent me the drawing a month ago, and I've been freaking out ever since. It's going to be amazing. Do you want to come?\"\n\n\"Yes. Can I? I've never been to a tattoo parlor before.\"\n\n\"It's going to take the whole day,\" Rayne warned. \"It's a long session.\"\n\n\"If I get bored I'll go walk around, or I'll have a nap in the corner,\" Kris said. \"No big deal. I want to see.\"\n\nThey walked to the tattoo parlor, Rayne insisting it was just far enough to stretch their legs, while Kris was happy to tag along and soak up the sun. The only thing to identify the place was a koi fish painted on the door; there was no sign or window or anything else to indicate the nature of the building. Rayne pushed through the door and led Kris up a narrow staircase wallpapered in art, over the landing, and into the shop above. A long black couch sat in front of the reception desk and framed art hung on the walls. The buzz of tattoo guns filled the air as a handful of artists worked at their stations, scattered around the room.\n\n\"Rayne!\"\n\nThe woman who greeted them was maybe forty, with spiky black hair and inked art covering every inch of exposed skin below her jaw.\n\n\"Hey, Jiao,\" Rayne said with a wave. \"This is Kris; he's just here for company. Kris, this is Jiao Fang, my artist.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Kris,\" Jiao said. \"Come over here, take a look at the final design.\"\n\nShe led them to her station in the back corner. The two walls were covered floor to ceiling in art: pencil sketches, charcoal, watercolor, ink\u2014Kris's mouth dropped open at the sheer skill of it. There were dragons and phoenixes and flowers, unidentifiable monsters, fish, knights, and portraits drawn with such delicate attention to detail that he couldn't fathom the time they must have taken. He could understand Rayne's devotion to Jiao; if he were going to have a drawing tattooed on his body forever, he would want it from someone as skilled as her.\n\nJiao fished a drawing from her desk drawer and handed it to Rayne. It was marked with a faint grid, but on top of the lines was a thick, coiled serpent, its scales immaculately rendered, flashing its fangs as it reached back for its own tail.\n\n\"This is what I sent you earlier,\" Jiao said. \"If you're happy with it, we're all set.\"\n\n\"It's perfect,\" Rayne breathed. \"I love it.\" He beckoned Kris over. \"Isn't it perfect? Jiao's done every tattoo I have. She's the best there is.\"\n\n\"I believe it,\" Kris said.\n\nJiao smiled and retrieved the drawing. \"I'll transfer it to the tattoo paper and we'll be ready in a minute.\" She headed off in the direction of the printer to do just that, leaving Kris and Rayne alone.\n\n\"Where are you putting it?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"My arm. It'll start here\"\u2014Rayne pointed to his shoulder, right where it met his chest\u2014\"and wrap around down to my elbow.\"\n\n\"That's huge. Won't it hurt?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but in a good way.\"\n\nKris's eyebrows lifted of their own accord.\n\n\"What? You don't think there's different kinds of hurt? This is worth it because you get to walk away with something amazing at the end. It's not like you're suffering for no reason.\"\n\n\"Uh-huh, sure.\"\n\nRayne waved him off. \"Get one yourself and you'll see what I mean.\"\n\nKris looked back at the wall of art. He'd never really considered it before, but then, he'd never considered a lot of things before The Chokecherries. Not seriously considered, anyway. His eyes were smudged from yesterday's makeup, his nails were painted black, and he had left home for the big city and joined a rock band he'd never heard of before. It occurred to him that he was the perfect candidate for a spontaneous tattoo.\n\n\"Huh,\" was all he said aloud.\n\nBefore Kris could elaborate, Rayne took his shirt off and Kris lost his train of thought entirely. He could see Rayne's tattoos.\n\nRayne had two birds perched on his chest, one near either shoulder. The left wore a crown, and the right had an arrow through its heart. Under his throat, running parallel to his collarbone, was an old-fashioned key. His right shoulder was capped with flowers, the same roses that crawled up the side of his neck to sit under his jaw, always half hidden by his hair, opposite where the snake's tail would start. The tattoos were all blackwork, and all recognizably Jiao's. Kris wanted Rayne to turn around to see if he had any more on his back. Maybe there were others below the waist of his jeans.\n\nHe swallowed.\n\n\"Like them?\" Rayne asked, his tongue poking out between his teeth.\n\n\"They're beautiful,\" Kris replied, and Rayne's eyes softened and lost their teasing edge.\n\n\"Thanks. I've got these ones too.\"\n\nHe turned; between his shoulder blades was a mandala like the sun, and when he lifted his hair there was a second mandala hidden along his hairline, peeking out down the back of his neck, like the fan of a peacock's tail. Kris inched closer to get a better look. The ink was older there, but it was still Jiao's work.\n\n\"The one on my neck was my first,\" Rayne said, dropping his hair and turning back. \"I had an undercut then; it's a full mandala, but I grew my hair out and you can't see the top half anymore. It's supposed to be\u2014\"\n\n\"A peacock,\" Kris finished. \"I can tell. It suits you,\" he added. \"They all do.\"\n\nRayne preened but whatever he was about to say was cut short by Jiao's return. The snake was printed on transfer paper, the design in reverse, and she smoothed it over Rayne's arm bit by bit, adjusting the angles as she went, starting at his chest and working her way down. When she removed the last of the paper, the snake coiled blue around Rayne's arm with not a scale out of place. Rayne twisted around to see it from all angles as Jiao held up a mirror, waiting patiently as he examined every inch of it.\n\n\"Okay, I'm set,\" he finally announced, sliding onto the chair. Jiao took up her position at his side, snapping her gloves into place, and her gun buzzed to life. Kris pulled a nearby stool closer and settled in to watch.\n\nWhatever Rayne said about the pain, it didn't show on his face. His hair fanned out over the chair's headrest, and he chatted back and forth with Jiao and Kris like he was out for coffee, rather than getting a tiny needle dragged repeatedly over his skin. Kris winced for him, but couldn't look away. The fingers of Jiao's gloves turned black with ink as she wiped away the excess, moving slowly and methodically over her design. The snake came to life under her hands one scale at a time, and Kris stared, transfixed. Rayne didn't watch. Occasionally something else leaked over his skin besides ink, and Kris leaned in closer, intrigued.\n\n\"Is that blood?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yep.\" Jiao swiped it away with her cloth. \"Inner bicep has thin skin. He'll bleed more here.\"\n\n\"Sounds fun.\"\n\n\"It's not that bad right now,\" Rayne said, \"but I guarantee I'll be bitching about it tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Adrenaline,\" Jiao said wisely. \"He likes it though. I gave him his first piece six years ago, when I opened my shop in LA. He's been coming back ever since.\"\n\nThe black ink was smoky and rich against the brown of Rayne's skin, and Kris wanted to touch the healed ones, just to see if they were as smooth and indistinguishable as they seemed.\n\nMaybe later he could ask.\n\n\"Benji is free this afternoon,\" Jiao said, \"if you're interested in a small piece. Her appointment canceled, so she left the slot open for walk-ins.\" She didn't look away from her work.\n\n\"No pressure,\" Rayne said. \"Your first tattoo, you should know for sure.\"\n\nKris wet his lips. \"Isn't your first tattoo supposed to be something meaningful? Because I'm feeling pretty impulsive here.\"\n\n\"Tattoos can be whatever you want,\" Jiao said. \"Get one if you want one. You should be sure you want it, but it's only ink.\" She shrugged. \"Not the end of the world.\"\n\nKris was saved from answering when his phone buzzed with an incoming call from his brother. \"I'm going to take this.\" He patted Rayne's knee. \"You keep at it, champ.\"\n\nHe crossed to the emptier side of the parlor and sank onto the couch. \"Hey, Bradley.\"\n\n\"Hey, Kris. Sorry I didn't call earlier. I heard you joined a band.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I did. It's going great. How's work?\"\n\n\"Good, good,\" Brad said absently. \"Listen\u2014I've seen some of the concert footage.\"\n\nKris picked at his nail polish and waited.\n\n\"You doing okay?\" Brad asked. \"Mom and Dad told me how plans fell through with Marty; you must have been really stressed trying to find something. I get if you just grabbed the first thing that came your way, but there are always other options, you know? You can always come home.\"\n\n\"I like the band, Brad.\"\n\n\"I know you like playing guitar, but you're a country kid, Kris. This\u2014what you're doing onstage\u2014you know that's not you, right?\"\n\n\"Pretty sure it is,\" Kris said, a thread of annoyance winding through him. \"And I never played country. I played bluegrass.\"\n\n\"I'm worried about you.\"\n\n\"Well, don't be,\" Kris shot back. \"I'm happy. I'm having a great time.\"\n\n\"They've got you dressing up and wearing makeup like some kind of a\u2014\"\n\n\"Bradley,\" Kris warned.\n\nBrad let out his breath. It came across as a crackle of static over the line. \"You can do better than this. Don't change into something you're not just to fit in.\"\n\nKris ended the call, his fingers shaking, and shoved his phone back into his pocket with more force than was necessary. A girl with short rainbow hair was sitting at an empty station, flipping through her phone and pretending not to hear to his conversation.\n\nKris raked his hands through his hair before approaching her. \"Hey, are you Benji?\"\n\n\"That's me.\"\n\nHe smiled, still shaky. \"Can I make one of those walk-in appointments Jiao was talking about? I think I need a tattoo after all.\"\n\nBenji walked him through the paperwork, and he scribbled his signature swearing he wasn't drunk and wouldn't blame them for any complications or change of heart later on, and she led him to her chair, sat him down, and handed him a thick portfolio of flash designs.\n\n\"They've all got their prices marked, or if you want something not in the book, we can make a deal,\" she said. \"Did you have anything particular in mind?\"\n\nKris flipped through the pages of artwork. There were death's-head moths, skeletons, hearts, and daggers\u2014all the classics, all with their original spin. The art was flawless. He chewed on his lip as he thought it over, his heart racing. \"Can I just get a star?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"Like an outline?\"\n\n\"Yeah, just a five point star, right here.\" He pointed to the inside of his left wrist, just below the joint.\n\n\"Sure,\" Benji said. \"Our base charge is eighty bucks, and a star should only take a couple of minutes. I won't charge you more than that.\"\n\nHe handed her the portfolio back and tried to calm his heartbeat. She pulled a marker out, took his wrist, and drew a perfect freehand star on his skin, the lines straight and the points sharp. \"Like this?\"\n\nHe examined it. His pulse still felt like it was going to burst out of his skin, but he nodded and tried not to grin like an idiot. \"Yes, please. Do that.\"\n\nShe donned her gloves, fitted a new needle to her gun, and he gave her his wrist. The first bite of the needle didn't hurt as much as he'd expected, but he still went tense from it. It felt like a hard, biting drag against his skin, but Benji's hands were steady, and he was more excited than uncomfortable. She paused to wipe away the ink and he watched a bright-red drop of blood well up in its wake.\n\n\"So it's like scarring, right? That's why it bleeds?\"\n\n\"It needs to go deep enough for the ink to set permanently,\" Benji said. \"It's technically an open wound until it scabs over; that's why aftercare is so important.\"\n\n\"Gross.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she agreed, and wiped the last of the ink away with a smile. \"But not gross enough to stop people. You're all done.\"\n\nHis wrist now sported a perfect five-point star. The lines looked puffy and tender.\n\n\"I'll wrap it up for you, and then you can pay Alicia at the front desk. All good?\"\n\n\"Perfect. So perfect, thank you so much.\"\n\nShe covered the tattoo in a plastic medical film that stuck to his skin, explaining what she was doing as she worked. He nodded along, unable to take his eyes off his wrist.\n\n\"Alicia will give you a pamphlet with everything written down,\" Benji added at the end, \"but it's pretty easy. Leave this on for twenty-four hours, and then replace it whenever it gets dirty over the next week.\" She handed him a few sheets of the medical product, already cut to fit his tattoo, the plastic waiting to be peeled from its paper backing. \"This isn't plastic wrap from the kitchen,\" she warned. \"They're not interchangeable. This stuff is breathable and antibacterial, and using regular plastic wrap will leave you open to infection. Okay?\"\n\nKris nodded emphatically. \"Special medical wrap, no kitchen supplies. Got it.\"\n\n\"After a week, you can leave it uncovered. Keep it clean and moisturized, and you're good to go. A little one like this should be healed in no time.\"\n\nAfter paying at the desk, which was decorated with sugar skulls and tiny statues of samurai warriors, Kris wandered back to Rayne and Jiao. The snake didn't have a head yet, but it was coming along.\n\n\"You got one!\" Rayne said, clearly torn between delight and accusation. \"I wanted to watch.\"\n\nKris thrust his wrist out, bursting with pride. The star was blurry under the ink and the blood, which collected in the wrap's creases, but he didn't care how gory it looked. It was perfect.\n\n\"Nice,\" Rayne said. \"You decided, just like that?\"\n\n\"It's my body,\" Kris said. \"I get to do whatever I want with it, right?\"\n\n\"Course,\" Rayne agreed, but he caught Kris's hand and held it. \"You good?\" He glanced at Kris's phone, which was sticking out of his shallow pocket.\n\n\"I'm fine,\" Kris promised. \"It was dumb family stuff. Your snake is awesome though\u2014you still bleeding?\"\n\n\"He'll keep bleeding till I'm done,\" Jiao said.\n\nRayne gave a dismissive wave. \"Who cares about that. Did yours hurt? Your first tattoo on the inside of your wrist\u2014that's brave.\"\n\n\"Nah, it's only little. And this plastic stuff is really cool. I thought I was going to get all wrapped in gauze or something, but now I can keep an eye on it the entire time.\"\n\n\"It's the same wrapping they use on burn victims,\" Jiao said. \"It's less work for you than cleaning and moisturizing it every day as it heals. You leave it on for a few days, and when you peel it off, you're all done.\"\n\n\"Burn victims,\" Kris said. \"Don't they use baby foreskins in that stuff?\"\n\nRayne froze. They looked at each other.\n\n\"They have amazing medical properties,\" Jiao said with a shrug. \"Try not to think about it.\"\n\nKris glanced down at the plastic film. Underneath, the excess ink blotted and welled. \"Yeah, you know what? Pretend I never asked.\" He patted Rayne's knee reassuringly. \"Just pretend I never said anything at all.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Rayne said faintly.\n\n\"I've been using that stuff on you for years,\" Jiao said. \"Don't be childish.\"\n\nKris sniggered and Rayne smacked him. He deserved it.\n\nIt took another hour for Jiao to finish the snake. Rayne talked less as time passed, the discomfort finally catching up to him, but Kris stayed by his side until it was done. His own wrist started to sting as the adrenaline wore off, but Rayne was right: it was the good kind of pain. It felt like commitment. No matter what happened on tour, or where he ended up after, he had a piece of it under his skin now, and even if he never wore makeup or girls' jeans or dyed his hair again, his star would stay with him. He rubbed his thumb along the perimeter of the wrap and smiled to himself as Jiao's gun buzzed away, etching the snake into Rayne's arm. Soon the snake and the star would both be healed, smooth and indistinguishable to the touch, and when they were hidden under shirts and jackets, no one else would know they were there.\n\nThey had three back-to-back shows in Texas, and each show ratcheted the sexual tension between them up another notch. The night after their tattoos, Rayne set himself on Kris like a dog on a rabbit, and twelve thousand people screamed their approval. Dizzy from the taste of fame, Kris couldn't tell whether it was the roar of the crowd or Rayne's lips on his that had his blood pumping so hard, but he didn't question it. It was good\u2014the lurch of his stomach, the weakness in his knees, the way he saw stars when he closed his eyes, listening to Rayne's voice soar above the music. Every show, Rayne pulled his hair and petted his chest and stalked him, intent and predatory, radiating want. The crowd's screams always reached their crescendo when they kissed, almost as loud as when they played their encore, and Kris, breathless and drunk on the music and the smell of Rayne's cologne, lapped it up like he was starving.\n\nHe knew how they looked together. Cassie sent him the videos afterward: the same kiss from a hundred different angles, the reverent gasps and shrieks from a thousand different mouths. Backstage after the shows, Kris's whole body tingled with phantom touches. He could remember every brush of Rayne's skin against his own\u2014hand to hand, or at his throat, against his scalp, inside his collar and down his chest, a slow, dragging tease\u2014\n\nHe was more of an exhibitionist than he had thought, but then, the stage was the stage. If he wasn't up there for the attention, what was the point?\n\n\"Just don't get arrested,\" Brian said, when it became evident that their public petting was only going to get heavier. \"Keep all your private bits private. If this leads to public indecency charges, that's on your head, Kris. You're still on a trial run here. And Rayne? You know what happened last time, and none of us want a repeat of that mess.\"\n\n\"That's not happening again,\" Rayne said firmly. \"I have this under control.\"\n\nBrian seemed skeptical. \"And what we talked about in New Orleans\u2014\"\n\n\"I know,\" Rayne said. \"I said I'd tell you when I decided.\"\n\nKris looked between the two of them, not wanting to get on anyone's bad side by asking for clarification.\n\nBrian sighed and waved them away. \"Fine, okay. Other than that, go nuts.\"\n\nPassionfruit joined in on their antics immediately following Brian's reluctant blessing.\n\n\"Don't you guys have fianc\u00e9es?\" Kris asked before the first of their newly sexually charged shows.\n\n\"Yeah, and they've both given their very enthusiastic permission.\" Jay held up his phone; on the screen was a text message that consisted of nothing but exclamation marks, followed by a second one that read GOD YES SEND PICS.\n\n\"Huh,\" Kris said. \"Well, whatever works, right?\"\n\n\"Just a couple of straight guys being dudes,\" Billie agreed, fixing his makeup with a handheld mirror. \"Do you think red eye shadow is too much?\"\n\n\"What is this, 2005?\" Jay asked.\n\n\"Too late, I'm doing it anyway.\"\n\nPassionfruit approached their new stage play with the same aggression they poured into their music: raw and desperate, as compared to Rayne's simmering sensuality. Still, it seemed to work for them. Jay and Billie dragged each other around the stage, hands fisted in one another's hair, and Billie dropped to his knees to scream his lyrics out to Jay's guitar from below.\n\nKris watched from the side. He couldn't deny it was hot, in a feral way. Whatever chemistry Jay and Billie had before\u2014and he was pretty sure Billie had been joking when he'd said they were both straight\u2014it came boiling over now, frothing at the mouth and leaving the crowd hoarse with lust. The band came backstage invariably soaked with sweat and brimming with energy. Jay thumped Kris appreciatively on the chest as he passed.\n\n\"Great idea, man. The best.\"\n\n\"It really adds something to the performance,\" Billie added, watching Jay strip off his sodden shirt and upend an entire bottle of water over his head.\n\n\"Happy to help,\" Kris said. \"Hope the girlfriends like it.\"\n\n\"They'll be so jealous they can't see it in person,\" Jay said.\n\nKris nodded and elected not to pry any further.\n\nThe thing about life on the road, Kris decided sixteen days in, was that it was fucking exhausting. When he stole naps during the day the bus rocked him to sleep like he was a toddler, and at night he passed out cold, impervious to every outside stimulus, from snoring to traffic to blown tires, but he never seemed any better rested. The bunk wreaked havoc on his back, and he longed for a single night without his mattress moving under him. When Brian announced after their Austin show\u2014two stops away from Purple Sage\u2014that they were staying in a hotel, Kris nearly cried from sheer relief. A real bed, in a real room\u2014he was going to sleep for twelve hours straight and there wasn't a force in the entire universe that could stop him.\n\n\"So, there's been a slight mix-up,\" Brian said apologetically that night.\n\n\"Please tell me we have a room.\"\n\nEveryone else had already shuffled off to their respective suites for the night; it was only Kris and Rayne left in the hotel lobby with Brian.\n\n\"You do,\" Brian said. \"But you're sharing.\"\n\n\"Not a problem,\" Kris said quickly. \"No problem at all.\"\n\n\"There's only one bed.\"\n\nKris glanced at Rayne.\n\n\"They can bring up a cot though, can't they?\" Rayne said.\n\n\"I'm not sleeping on a cot,\" Kris said. \"I might as well stay on the bus.\"\n\nRayne, the diva, gave him a look that said he was most certainly not sleeping on any cot either.\n\n\"Forget it. I don't care. We can share a bed, right, Rayne?\"\n\n\"It's queen-sized,\" Brian said, seeming like he wanted to crawl straight into his own bed, and damn their sleeping arrangements.\n\nKris poked Rayne in the arm, careful that it wasn't the tattooed one. \"Your call, big shot. Are we sharing or not?\"\n\n\"We can share,\" Rayne said. \"As long as I can lay down within the next ten minutes, I really don't care.\"\n\n\"Make it sound like such a chore,\" Kris grumbled. Rayne reeled him into a sideways hug, and Kris dropped the act, ducking his head with a grin and hugging him back.\n\n\"Good. Perfect. Here's your key; we're checking out at eight. Don't be late.\" Brian dropped the key in Rayne's palm and departed without a backward glance. Kris couldn't blame him. He and Butch had been taking turns driving, and if Kris was tired, they must be nearly comatose.\n\n\"Dibs on the shower,\" Rayne said, pushing Kris toward the elevator.\n\nReaching their floor a minute later, Kris stumbled along, dragging his bag down the corridor. As soon as they arrived at the room, he face-planted into the pillow. He melted into the mattress as Rayne started the shower; the pipes rattled and the suite filled with the familiar hum of running water. Kris rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, absently listening to Rayne move in the bathroom, the spray shifting as he stepped into the stream. Kris had never lived this closely with anyone before, not even his own family. Touring was like living on top of one another for every minute of the day, a constant crush of forced intimacy, yet it felt good: there was always someone in touching distance, always someone to talk to, no matter the hour. Kris had taken to it like he'd been waiting all his life.\n\nHe understood how it could be overwhelming. Maki disappeared on a regular basis, slipping away to rebuild her personal space without a dozen eyes on her. Stef wore noise-canceling headphones nearly constantly unless they were onstage. Sometimes Kris needed room to breathe too, but he found reassurance in never being alone. He was so comfortable with his bandmates already, and Rayne in particular, like he'd known him a million years.\n\nWhen Rayne came out from the bathroom, Kris was flicking through his phone, looking at conversations he'd had with people months ago, old acquaintances he'd never deleted from his contacts, even after leaving Kansas and assuming he'd never see them again. He felt like a different person now. Would any of them recognize him anymore?\n\n\"Your turn,\" Rayne said.\n\nHe wore nothing but a towel slung low around his hips, inviting Kris's attention. Rayne didn't seem to know how to be shy, not about his body or anything else. Kris took the bait and whistled as leeringly as he could while pretending to be unaffected. Rayne laughed.\n\nIt was hard not to look, though, and Kris didn't fight the urge for long. Rayne was broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, with the faintest suggestion of abs. His skin was warm and rich in the low lamps of the hotel suite, like the darkest shades of amber: gold where he caught the light, and brown in the shadows. He moved like a panther, elegant and self-assured, tiny rivulets of water running down his body over his tattoos as he crossed the room. Kris wet his lips and glanced away.\n\n\"You're dripping everywhere.\"\n\n\"I'll leave a big housekeeping tip.\" Rayne flopped onto his back on the other side of the bed.\n\nKris headed for the bathroom before he could see how far the towel shifted.\n\nIn the shower, he lathered up in complimentary body wash and shampoo. The water was hot, the pressure was perfect, and Kris was not reliving the last kiss they'd shared onstage.\n\nIn fact, he wasn't fantasizing about Rayne at all. This preoccupation was just a matter of bad timing. He hadn't gotten laid in over four months since he and his girlfriend had broken up before he left for New York, and they'd been drifting apart for longer before that. They had parted on mutual terms, and there was no bad blood between them, but still\u2014he was getting antsy. And since Rayne's attention onstage was the only action he was getting, it was only natural for him to get a little distracted. It didn't mean he wanted to do anything about it.\n\nRayne was the kind of tall, dark, and handsome that could make even the most heterosexual man grudgingly admit he was good-looking, and Kris was far from straight. Some might say Rayne was too pretty, but Kris liked that. He liked how Rayne could switch from being a total dork offstage, overenthusiastic, with a braying laugh, to the sultry, slinky predator who stalked around in front of the crowd, and he liked how Rayne was equally sincere in both roles. But they never kissed except during the show. Sex was for the stage, and the stage alone. Passionfruit was equally close, but then, they were odd too. Kris didn't have any kind of baseline for normality anymore. His parents didn't comment on it, his sister jeered and congratulated him, and he hadn't talked to Brad since that phone call in the tattoo parlor.\n\nWould it be easier if he'd been a Chokecherries' fan prior to meeting them? No, it was better this way. Less awkward. He shouldn't overthink things. If he were smart, he'd leave what they did onstage onstage like they'd agreed, and that would be that. He'd compartmentalize.\n\nHe sighed, turned the water all the way to the cold side, and stood under the spray until he was shivering. Getting involved with a bandmate was way too risky when his position in the band was so tenuous. Besides which, he still didn't feel ready to come out. It was ridiculous; he was as safe as he would ever be, and the fans and the press all assumed he was some kind of queer anyway. But his heart stuttered when he thought about making that final leap and saying it out loud, so he bit his tongue and kept it under wraps.\n\nBack in the room, Rayne, now dressed in pajama bottoms, was watching something bright and loud on the television.\n\n\"I thought hotel nights were for hookers and booze,\" Kris said. \"You're watching a musical.\"\n\n\"If you want hookers, you can get your own room,\" Rayne said. \"There's booze in the minibar, though.\"\n\nKris fluffed his pillow and joined him, settling in to get comfortable. \"Nah, I'm good. What is this?\"\n\n\"An Indian movie. I used to watch them with my mom all the time, but I haven't been keeping up the last couple of years.\"\n\n\"Like Bollywood? Aren't those movies all singing and dancing?\"\n\nOn screen, a man in a chariot slashed through an enemy army.\n\n\"A lot of them,\" Rayne agreed, \"but not this one.\"\n\n\"Holy shit, that was epic.\"\n\n\"Big budget.\" Rayne nodded.\n\nIntrigued, Kris kept his eyes glued to the screen as the battle raged on, men getting torn apart in slow motion. \"So movies were a thing for you and your mom?\"\n\n\"She was an actress in India before she moved to the States with my father. He's Persian. I got more of his looks, but I got her flair for the dramatic.\"\n\n\"That's so cool. They must be proud of you, following in her footsteps, huh?\"\n\n\"My dad died a few years before I started the band, and my mom moved back to India not long after, to be with her family.\" Rayne seemed wistful, but not sad. \"I hope he'd be proud of me. I know she is.\"\n\nKris shuffled sideways to fit himself under Rayne's arm, nestling in against his chest. \"I bet they both are. Look at you, man. You're living the dream.\"\n\nRayne hummed.\n\n\"Do you miss them?\"\n\n\"Sometimes,\" Rayne said, after a moment. \"I still visit my mom, and I'll always miss my dad a little bit, but I'm okay.\"\n\nKris gave him a comforting squeeze. \"Is India really like this?\" he asked, nodding to the movie.\n\n\"Kind of? I mean, this is fantasy, but it's recognizable. You could come see it in person, if you wanted.\"\n\n\"Is the tour going through India?\"\n\n\"No, but we could go on our own. The rest of the band's already been, but the two of us could visit. I could show you around.\"\n\nKris twisted around to look up at him. \"Seriously? I've never been outside the States before. I'd love that.\"\n\n\"I'll make it happen,\" Rayne promised.\n\nKris smiled and settled in to watch the movie. He'd already missed the beginning and his vision was starting to blur, making the subtitles a challenge, but the cinematography was beautiful. On screen, an elephant reared up, balancing on its hind legs. \"You should get an elephant,\" Kris said sleepily. \"Make it part of the show. Or, like, put it in your next video or something. That would be awesome.\"\n\nRayne seemed to give that thought way too much consideration. \"I don't think we could use it in the live show. A video would be good though. I should ask Brian.\" He dug out his phone and started texting.\n\nTwo minutes later Brian called. \"Absolutely not.\"\n\nKris giggled into his pillow.\n\n\"No wild animals. Never mind the liabilities\u2014do you know how hard it is to wrangle a bus full of musicians? And you want to add an entire elephant to the mix? No. Stop watching TV and go the fuck to sleep, Rayne. And Kris? I know you're listening, and I know this was your idea. Sleep. Now.\"\n\nHe hung up.\n\n\"I'll work on him,\" Rayne decided.\n\n\"Maybe we can start with like, a horse, and work our way up.\"\n\n\"Or a snake,\" Rayne said around a yawn. \"A big ball python or something. They're exotic. They'd look great in a video.\"\n\n\"For sure,\" Kris agreed. The camera panned over an ancient cityscape as the soundtrack wailed. \"We can get a snake. A snake must be easier to wrangle than a horse or an elephant.\" He tried to think of everything he knew about India, which wasn't much. \"You want a peacock? They're Indian, right? They've got those at the zoo just roaming around, mingling with the visitors and stuff. I bet we could steal one.\"\n\n\"You want to steal me a peacock? That might be the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me.\"\n\nA delightful shiver shot through Kris at the word romantic, but he crushed it down. \"Fuck yeah, I'll steal you a peacock. Also, you should probably raise your standards, but that's your business. But I will absolutely steal you a giant bird to further your rock star aesthetic if that's what you want.\"\n\nRayne tugged him sideways so Kris sprawled the rest of the way across his chest. \"You're the best. Don't get arrested though.\"\n\n\"Why not? That's totally rock and roll. How's anybody going to take me seriously if I've never been arrested?\"\n\n\"Brian would have a heart attack and cancel your contract,\" Rayne pointed out. \"And then I'd have to leave you in jail to stay on his good side.\"\n\n\"That's cold, man.\"\n\n\"That's show business.\"\n\nA jungle stretched across the TV, calmer now that the battle had passed, and Kris's eyes kept drifting closed of their own accord. Listening to the background music, he could pick out similar themes in The Chokecherries' songs: an undercurrent of Indian influence he'd never noticed before.\n\n\"Early night?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"So rock and roll.\" Kris snuggled deeper into the pillow, Rayne's heat a constant burn against his side. \"Going to leach your body heat a bit longer, then I'll move back to my side.\"\n\n\"I knew you were just using me.\"\n\nRayne ruffled Kris's hair until Kris batted at him. On screen, a chariot horse blinked at the camera like it was judging them. Kris didn't care.\n\nSomething nudged him. \"Hey. You awake?\"\n\nKris blinked groggily, willing his eyes to focus. The clock on the bedside table read 3:03. He had been awake, more or less, drifting in that heavy in-between place and flirting with consciousness. \"Mm?\" Rayne was a warm presence against his back, and Kris rolled over to face him. Their knees bumped under the covers as Kris propped himself up on one elbow and yawned. \"What's up?\"\n\n\"Want to talk to you.\" Rayne looked delicious in the dark, his hair unmanageably mussed from the pillow and his eyes soft from sleep.\n\n\"At three in the morning?\" Kris asked around another yawn. \"Okay, sure. Talk about what?\"\n\n\"There's this band going to Purple Sage\u2014Dead Generation. They're signed to the same label as us. They're new, but they're good.\"\n\nKris woke up properly. This must be about Rayne's secret from the club. \"You want to add them to our opening act?\"\n\nRayne shook his head. His hair fell in his eyes, and Kris was momentarily distracted.\n\n\"Their front man, Calloway, got outed in a gossip rag the other week, and he and the label have decided to roll with it. They've asked me\u2014the label has, I mean\u2014to step in for a publicity stunt. Something to put the narrative back in their control.\"\n\nKris blinked and tried to make any kind of sense out of Rayne's words. He must be more asleep than he'd thought. \"Sorry, what? You're going to have to spell it out for me, man. I'm not versed in all this cryptic industry talk yet.\"\n\n\"Me and Calloway,\" Rayne said. \"They want us to go on a few dates, let the paparazzi get a few pictures, spread a few rumors. Just for the length of the festival.\"\n\n\"They want you to . . . pretend to date some guy. Oh my god, they're pimping you out!\"\n\n\"No, that's\u2014 Well, sort of. It's an image thing. Now that he's been outed, the label has to decide how to reinvent his brand. They chose me. Everybody loves me, and I've been out since before I signed. And the papers have been dying to dig into my personal life for ages now. Two birds, one stone.\"\n\n\"This is what Brian was talking to you about in the White Rabbit?\" Kris asked incredulously.\n\n\"You knew about that?\"\n\n\"I overheard you talking to Angel about something that night. You had said it was business stuff.\"\n\n\"Right, well, Brian's not impressed with the idea either, but I said I'd consider it.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Kris said, slightly dazed. \"Fake dating. That makes sense. It's so obvious; why didn't I think of it?\"\n\nRayne rolled his eyes fondly and prodded Kris in the shoulder. \"I'm not pretending the music industry is remotely sane.\"\n\n\"So are you going to do it?\"\n\nRayne was still for a moment. Rayne being still meant he was deep in his thoughts, and that was never a good thing. He was the kind of guy who made split-second decisions and never looked back, like lightning in a bottle. He wasn't careless, but he wasn't given to overthinking. Kris leaned in and tapped him on the forehead, right between the eyes.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Rayne said finally. \"That's why I'm asking you.\"\n\n\"What? Why? What have I got to do with your fake love life?\"\n\n\"Right now, you are my fake love life,\" Rayne pointed out, and Kris's heart gave a thrilling thud. \"A good chunk of people\u2014fans, tabloids\u2014think we're a thing, and they'll keep thinking that as long as we keep doing what we do onstage, no matter what we say. If Calloway and I do this stunt, it'll throw all that for a loop, so I thought I'd better ask before deciding.\"\n\nNot six hours ago Kris had been fantasizing about Rayne in the shower. Now, lying nose to nose in bed together, his thoughts weren't much further ahead, and that wasn't helpful when Rayne was trying to talk about something important. Kris forced himself to concentrate and consider Rayne's proposal. \"Would you having a fake boyfriend affect our shows?\"\n\n\"Brian's advising us to drop the make-outs while I go out with Calloway, but he says that's up to us. People will talk about it either way.\" Rayne smiled wryly. \"The press loves a scandal.\"\n\nKris took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. His brain was still fuzzy, not used to functioning at this hour, let alone making publicity decisions. Rayne was a solid presence in the dark beside him.\n\nKris didn't have any right to monopolize Rayne's attention\u2014or his affection, his sleepy brain added traitorously. Or his touches, or his kisses, onstage or off. Rayne was just being considerate, giving Kris a heads-up like this.\n\n\"If the label thinks it's a good idea . . .\"\n\n\"Brian's skeptical,\" Rayne said, \"but he always is. He stressed it was entirely my choice. They're not going to make me do anything I don't want to.\"\n\n\"They're just going to pointedly encourage you?\"\n\n\"Right.\" Rayne sighed.\n\n\"Do you know this Calloway?\"\n\n\"Never met him. Here, take a look.\"\n\nRayne fumbled for his phone before handing it to Kris, and the screen lit up with a picture of the singer in question. Calloway was heavily freckled under his sun-kissed glow, with coiffed ginger hair and a blinding smile. He was attractive, but anyone could look like a model with enough airbrushing.\n\n\"Irish?\" Kris guessed.\n\n\"So they tell me. I've listened to his band, and they're good. They're not big yet, but they could be, given the chance.\"\n\n\"Okay. So he's pretty, and he's got talent. That sounds like your type, right?\"\n\n\"Evidently. So? Are you going to be my voice of reason and tell me it's a terrible plan?\"\n\nKris thought about it. He and Rayne weren't dating. They weren't even friends with benefits. In fact, they weren't anything at all besides bandmates trying to put on a good show, and that was exactly how they were going to stay, because Kris was a goddamn professional and he wasn't going to ruin his shot at making it big with the band. If Rayne were involved with somebody else, even for a single week, even just for the tabloids, that would keep him strictly off-limits from Kris and his increasingly overactive imagination. A week would be more than enough time for Kris to pull himself together and get over whatever this was. It was perfect.\n\n\"Actually,\" Kris said, \"I think it's a great idea.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Like you said, two birds, one stone. And you could help jump-start this guy's career, by the sound of it. That's got to be good karma, right?\"\n\n\"Right,\" Rayne agreed. Was it Kris, or did he look almost disappointed? No, it was just the way the shadows played over his face.\n\nKris plastered on a smile and socked Rayne on the shoulder. \"It's cool, man. Go sow your fake wild oats.\"\n\n\"We'll have to change our shows a bit,\" Rayne reminded him.\n\nJust the thought of their shows left Kris burning up from remembered kisses. Cold water, he thought. Freezing, ice-cold water. The least-sexy feeling imaginable. \"We'll figure something out.\" He paused, then asked, \"Hey, what was that other thing Brian was talking about earlier? Something about not wanting a repeat of what happened last time?\"\n\nFor a moment it didn't seem Rayne was going to answer, and then he blew out his breath with a rueful smile. \"He was worried about you and I getting involved onstage. He knows my history with straight boys, and what happened before\u2014it got messy and ended badly. As these things do.\"\n\n\"Heartbreak and misery?\" Kris guessed.\n\n\"Something like that.\" Rayne slumped lower, propped up on one elbow. \"It was with Fink,\" he finally admitted. \"Before he got into the hard drugs. We used to fool around\u2014not during the shows, but on tour\u2014and I wasn't great at keeping my feelings in check then. When I told him I'd fallen for him, he just laughed.\"\n\n\"What a dick,\" Kris said, disbelievingly.\n\n\"Yeah.\" Rayne shrugged. \"He said he was still straight, and what we were doing was just for fun. 'A good time,' he called it. I was sitting there pining while he was fucking around the whole time with any groupie who looked his way, acting like nothing had changed between us. I couldn't do the same. After that his drug use got too bad to ignore, and you know how that turned out.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"It was only a matter of time before he left, even if he'd stayed clean. I would have kicked him out myself, I think, heroin or not. Or Brian would have. I could barely be in the same room as him, near the end.\"\n\n\"You can't blame yourself for him getting hooked on heroin, though. Or for bailing on the band like that.\"\n\n\"No, of course not, but I don't think I helped. Brian's right to warn me off you.\" Rayne smiled and shook his hair back. \"It's fine, though. We're good, right? Brian has nothing to worry about.\"\n\n\"We're good,\" Kris promised, catching Rayne's hand to hold it. \"And hey, good riddance, right? You're better off without the guy.\"\n\nRayne cracked a genuine smile and squeezed his fingers. \"You're a marked improvement over him,\" he agreed softly.\n\nKris's insides went warm and melty at that, though his brain was too fuzzy to process everything Rayne had shared. He smiled back and rubbed his thumb reassuringly over Rayne's knuckles. \"You got anything else you need to talk about? Any deep, dark secrets you're harboring? Lip-synching onstage? The long lost prince of Genovia?\"\n\nRayne hesitated for a split second before shaking his head, his curls catching the only light in the room. \"No, I'm done. No secrets, no royal bloodlines.\"\n\n\"Too bad. Guess you'll have to make do being a millionaire rock star.\" Kris's head was dropping of its own accord back toward his pillow as sleep rushed in to meet him. \"Fancy rock star with a fake boyfriend,\" he mumbled, reaching over to swat at Rayne one last time. \"You're like a walking fantasy, man. All those fics Cassie talks about, they've got nothing on the real you.\" The last thing he saw before his eyes slipped shut was Rayne's expression, caught somewhere between startled and wondrous.\n\nHe was surrounded by warmth. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, covering everything in pools of gold. The bedsheets were rumpled, and the body under him arched as Kris's veins flooded with heat. It was the lazy, unquestionable kind of enjoyment that came from familiarity, when he knew every inch of his partner's body and they knew his. Kris didn't even need to open his eyes; they were connected spirit to spirit, pleasure crashing through them with no regard for where one body ended and the next began. Kris dropped his head to his partner's shoulder and breathed in deep. They smelled like oranges and lemon peel, so fresh his mouth flooded with water. He tasted the salt of their skin as he moved his hips in lazy circles.\n\n\"Oh god, fuck,\" he panted, chasing his climax. It felt like burning coals in the pit of his stomach, spreading out through every limb.\n\n\"You feel so good,\" his partner breathed, nipping at his ear. Kris shuddered. \"You feel so good . . . come on, come on\u2014\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Kris gasped. \"Wait, I want to kiss you.\" He leaned down to find his partner's lips, and when their mouths met, his eyes flew open for the first time. He knew that kiss. Looking back at him, sun-dappled in the bed, lay Rayne, his hair tousled and his eyes bright and flooded with want.\n\n\"Oh, fuck,\" Kris said, and woke up.\n\nIt was morning, and Rayne was spooning him from behind, his face buried in Kris's shoulder. Kris was painfully, achingly hard. So, he noticed, was Rayne. Rayne's breathing was slow and steady, fanning over the back of Kris's neck. It felt damp and too hot. Kris shifted, trying to escape it, but only succeeded in pushing himself farther back into Rayne's embrace.\n\nKris paused and considered his options. Rayne was asleep, no matter what his libido was thinking. Kris could extricate himself\u2014very carefully\u2014and slip away to the bathroom, have an excruciatingly cold shower, and pretend nothing had happened. Rayne would probably be awake by the time he came back, and neither of them would have to talk about it. Or Kris could pretend to go back to sleep until Rayne woke and left for the bathroom, and again, neither would have to mention anything. Or least advised: he could stay exactly where he was and wake Rayne up to call him on his accidental intimacy. It was a terrible idea, especially considering their last conversation concerning Calloway, but Kris could still see his dream-Rayne glimmering behind his eyelids every time he blinked. That made it hard to remember why, exactly, he should be keeping his distance.\n\nKris held his breath and waited to see if his erection wanted to subside on its own.\n\nIt didn't.\n\nHe took the third option, shifted onto his stomach, and elbowed Rayne in the ribs.\n\n\"Dude,\" Kris said.\n\nRayne whuffled in his sleep and held him tighter.\n\n\"You are getting way up in my business here, man.\" Kris twisted around just enough to see Rayne blink awake, looking baffled and adorably out of place. He stayed pressed against Kris's back from chest to knee.\n\n\"Huh,\" said Rayne, his voice rough and low from sleep. \"You don't seem to mind.\"\n\n\"You have to make an honest guy out of me now.\" Kris kept his tone deliberately light. \"Roses and fancy dinners and a big fat ring. No fake boyfriend for you after all.\"\n\n\"You're so high maintenance.\" Rayne yawned. \"Fine, we'll detour through Vegas and get married by some Elvis impersonator, how about that?\"\n\n\"Perfect.\"\n\nKris wriggled onto his side, pretending to search for a way out from under Rayne's arm, but actually pressing his ass back against Rayne's hips, testing how far he could push things. Rayne groaned and buried his face in the pillow.\n\n\"You're a menace. Stop moving like that.\"\n\n\"Like what?\" Kris asked, all innocence.\n\n\"You're doing this on purpose.\"\n\n\"So go jerk off in the shower, rock star.\"\n\n\"Aren't you supposed to be straight? Straight boys don't do this, unless the world's been lying to me this whole time.\"\n\nKris bit his lip and hid his face so Rayne couldn't see. \"Maybe I'm just getting you back for rubbing up on me all morning.\"\n\nHe couldn't admit he was still chasing that high from his dream, trying to get close to Rayne in any way he could before they reached the festival and whatever complications it was going to bring. It wasn't smart, whatever the excuse. Rayne narrowed his eyes, and Kris had a second to brace himself before Rayne flattened him onto his stomach, swung a leg over Kris's thighs, and pinned his wrists to the pillow. Kris noted Rayne was keeping their hips conspicuously apart.\n\n\"What are you going to do?\" Kris asked around the pillow.\n\n\"You are such a brat.\"\n\nKris shrugged as best he could, which was minimal. \"You like it.\" He struggled against Rayne's hold, but only for show. Rayne was taller and heavier than him; he didn't stand a chance if Rayne really wanted to keep him pinned. He was pretty sure Rayne was bluffing, though.\n\n\"You going to stare at the back of my head all day, or you going to make good on that threat?\" Kris bucked his hips up, and Rayne jolted up to avoid contact. Kris grinned. \"Didn't think so.\"\n\nHe could feel Rayne's glare through his skull. Rayne held him there for a moment longer as if considering him, before dropping his full weight on Kris's back. Kris wheezed as he deflated, the air fleeing his lungs.\n\n\"Brat,\" Rayne repeated, more fondly now that Kris had been unilaterally defeated.\n\nKris pulled one hand free to smack Rayne in the shoulder. \"Off,\" he wheezed. \"Dying. You win.\"\n\n\"You sure?\" Rayne asked. \"You sure this wasn't what you wanted?\"\n\n\"You're still poking me.\"\n\nRayne shifted around and jabbed his elbows into Kris's ribs.\n\n\"Okay!\" Kris managed. \"Okay, I give up. You win. Off.\"\n\nRayne didn't move, and Kris wondered if he was really going to be crushed to death under an annoyed, blatantly aroused rock star first thing in the morning. He'd just started drafting his final will and testament when Rayne grinned and pressed a smacking kiss to Kris's shoulder and dismounted, hopping off the bed.\n\n\"First shower,\" Rayne announced.\n\n\"Roses and dinner,\" Kris repeated. \"The most expensive shit you can find.\"\n\n\"I can do coffee and a muffin. Maybe weed, if Angel's generous.\"\n\n\"Deal.\"\n\nRayne disappeared into the bathroom, and Kris rolled onto his back, flinging one arm over his face as he palmed himself through his shorts with the other. It was a fluke, he repeated to himself. It had been a while, and Rayne was the only person he'd touched in months. He wasn't in love\u2014he wasn't even in lust, whatever his subconscious was saying\u2014and he was not going to rub one out over his boss-slash-best-friend, no matter what kind of thrill had shot through him when Rayne had pressed him into the mattress like that. Rayne was going to go meet his publicity-stunt-fake-boyfriend, and Kris wasn't going to get between them, because he and Rayne were just friends. Friends and bandmates. Brian would kill him if he pulled a Fink and fucked up the tour, and Kris would kill himself if he pulled a Fink and fucked up Rayne's heart.\n\n\"Fuck me,\" Kris complained to the empty room.\n\n\"Marriage first!\" Rayne hollered from the bathroom.\n\nKris pulled the pillow over his face and groaned into it. He was such a mess.\n\nModern spirituality is a strange thing, often made difficult by the unrelenting fast pace of the twenty-first century, but people find ways to make ends meet. Some attend church; some read Buddhist teachings. Some surround themselves in nature and breathe deeply until they feel at peace.\n\nLeif had started a cult.\n\nHe hadn't meant to, at the time. But it had gotten away from him, as those things tend to do, and before he knew it people had been coming to him for guidance and spiritual well-being, and he could hardly have turned them away with nothing to believe in. He might have fucked up, but he was damn well going to take some responsibility for once in his life and see it through.\n\nSo: cult.\n\nSeven Years Earlier:\n\nThe exact moment it began, he was sitting in the rickety foldout chair in front of his rickety little trailer, parked in a lot of other semipermanent ramshackle homes in the Mojave Desert. Leif did his best with what he had, but he'd always felt there was something missing. The outside of his trailer was rough and weather-beaten, and inside wasn't much better. He might as well be living in a cave somewhere, for all the home touches he lacked.\n\nHis soul was as neglected as his physical surroundings, and like every other hole in his life, he filled his missing sense of purpose with drugs. When his life changed, he was extraordinarily high on a combination of weed, ecstasy, and LSD, to the point where he was barely tethered to reality. His head swam with shapes and colors; his mind was so far open that the universe was pouring in through his third eye and his soul was pouring out and connecting to every other living being in the cosmos, and he understood everything. It was beautiful, but when he came down, it wouldn't have been marked as truly spiritual.\n\nIt was the peacock that tipped the experience into life-altering territory.\n\nLeif had never seen a peacock in real life before, and at first he wasn't convinced the bird was real at all. It was too big, too colorful, too . . . much, to be a real animal existing in three-dimensional space. He flew down to Leif from the sky, surrounded by lights of a billion different colors, colors Leif had never seen before, beyond the spectrum of human visibility. The peacock's wings beat in slow motion as he descended, and Leif's mouth fell open in slack-jawed awe as they fanned his face. The breeze was warm and, it seemed to him, originating from another plane of reality. When the peacock landed on the ground before him, folding his wings back and shaking out his tail in a series of short ruffled waves, Leif was convinced he wasn't looking on any mortal bird, but some divine creature sent from heaven to bring enlightenment to his life.\n\nHe was incredibly high, and he knew he was incredibly high, but what really cemented the idea of the peacock being divinity was that he felt the same once the drugs wore off. Hours later, when he was settled back in his own skin and his mind worked slowly and linearly again, the peacock still gave him that same sense of otherworldly reverence. The peacock regarded Leif with bright, shiny eyes that seemed too intelligent to belong to a bird, and his feathers were so glossily iridescent that Leif thought there must be LSD still left in his system.\n\n\"You're something else, aren't you?\" he whispered, his voice hoarse and his mouth dry.\n\nThe peacock screamed, an unearthly wail that sent goose bumps running up and down his arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck raising in alarm.\n\nHe called his friend Red.\n\nRed was a uniquely belligerent man whose only source of inner peace came from the drugs he imbibed, and he made sure to carry a wide variety on him at all times, a pill for every occasion. He was the type of man more likely to stare at a wall for six hours when he was high than talk about the wonders of the universe, but he and Leif had been crossing paths for years, and found it easier to call themselves friends than anything else. Red was as logical and down to earth as anyone Leif had ever met, if prone to brawling. If anyone could offer some perspective on the peacock, it was him.\n\n\"What do you mean you saw God?\" Red grunted over the phone.\n\n\"Not God-god, a different god,\" Leif said. The peacock watched him, seemingly judging his every word. \"The god of . . . truth, or beauty or\u2014 I don't know. Enlightenment.\"\n\n\"You know you sound nuts, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know. But listen, get over here and judge for yourself, okay? I'm telling you, there's something about this thing. He's not a normal bird.\"\n\nRed grunted again and hung up, but he came. He pulled in on his big hulking motorcycle, the machine choking out fumes, and parked beside Leif's trailer. By then the peacock was perched on the edge of the aluminum roof, his tail cascading down over the window, and he looked back over his shoulder to watch Red's approach. Leif rose from his chair to greet him.\n\n\"That's a hell of a bird,\" Red said eventually. \"Bigger than I thought. Don't know about it being any god, though. You sure all that shit you smoke hasn't fried your brain?\"\n\n\"I haven't tried anything you haven't,\" Leif retorted, but it was the peacock that demanded the last word. He shrieked and launched himself from the roof to assault Red in a flurry of feathers and talons, and Red shrieked in return and fell to the ground, his arms up to protect his face.\n\n\"Okay, all right!\" he hollered, curling up while trying to fend the bird off. \"I believe you! It's a god!\"\n\nThe peacock hopped back a pace and cocked his head to one side, watching him. Red slowly got to his knees, his arms and face covered in scratches. He and Leif watched the bird, wary in case he launched a second attack. Instead, the peacock took another step back and fanned out his tail, keeping his gaze fixed on them all the while.\n\nNow, Leif wasn't given to superstition. He hadn't been raised in a barn. He'd gone to college and studied poetry and philosophy, looking for anything to give his life a little meaning, though the student loans had piled up too quick and he'd dropped out before finishing his degree. Then he'd gone off grid for a while to avoid the debt collectors, and things had spiraled from there. The point was, he'd had an education, and he wasn't the sort to unquestioningly follow the first thing that showed any promise of spiritual fulfillment. But when the peacock spread his tail, Leif dropped to his knees alongside Red, his hands pressed to the dusty ground as he leaned forward until his forehead touched the dirt. Submitting himself like that brought the strangest sense of serenity, like all his worldly troubles were drifting away, out of reach and suddenly meaningless in the face of this beautiful, radiant creature.\n\nAnd sure, maybe the drugs had fried his brain. It was possible. But the thing was, once they started showing the peacock to other people, they all agreed that there was something about the bird as well. The peacock made them feel things about life and beauty and the universe that they'd never felt before, and if that wasn't the sign of some kind of godhood, Leif didn't know what was. That, and the fact that as soon as the peacock arrived, his luck had started to change. Things started to go right again for the first time in years. He'd found a twenty-dollar bill on the ground that very day, and that was only the beginning.\n\nFrom there, the cult seemed like a natural progression of events. He and Red were the only members at first, and they didn't call it a cult then. But the more time they spent communing with the bird, the more attention they attracted from like-minded individuals. Boar came next, a great hulking mountain of a man, like a Viking berserker from centuries past, looking for a community and a purpose. By that time Leif had determined his own purpose in life, which was to devote himself entirely to the peacock in return for his feathery blessing, and he was happy to bring others into the fold. Boar took to worship like it was a lifeline saving him from drowning, and everything escalated quickly after that.\n\nThey named their god to better worship it: Incandescent and All-Seeing. They shaved their heads like monks, forsaking all earthly beauty, and tattooed themselves with the images and messages they saw in their visions. Leif sold his trailer and bought a motorcycle, and traveled to hold court in music festivals and hippie camps, preaching the gospel that flowed from the universe straight into his brain. He had a gift for talking; all those years of reading poetry had left him with a deep, lilting intonation and an unusually developed vocabulary that caused his audience to sit up and pay attention, even the skeptics. Leif didn't actively recruit people to the order, but more did join, here and there. Some stayed for a few days, some for a few years. It always hurt when they left, for whatever reason, but the peacock never seemed inclined to smite them for their abandonment, so Leif didn't either.\n\nThey rarely strayed out of Nevada. The peacock had come to them in the desert, and in the desert they would stay, haunting the highways on their motorcycles as their god watched over them from above. They took money where they found it, whether from hustling pool at roadside dives, or jacking cars for parts when out-of-state drivers broke down in the desert and had to pull over and call for help. It wasn't always a legal living, but Leif thought it was an honest one. Spiritually honest: that was the important thing. Otherwise, the cops should have caught them by now. Bald and tattooed, they were hardly inconspicuous: dressed all in dusty motorcycle leathers, roaming the desert like great earthbound vultures. They had to be on the right path. Otherwise, the peacock would have abandoned them, and they would have gone to jail.\n\nNow:\n\n\"Where to next?\" Red asked.\n\nThere were four of them now, and they had set up camp off the side of the highway, their bikes parked in the shade of the towering cacti. The desert stretched out vast and orange in all directions as the sun began its descent.\n\n\"Purple Sage,\" Leif said, looking up at the clouds. One of their old members would be there\u2014Calloway, who had turned his back on them, seduced by the call of worldly fame and fortune. Leif didn't have any intention of trying to win him back to the fold, but they had parted on poor terms, and he wanted closure. The new kid who had replaced him just wasn't the same. And the peacock had liked Calloway, before he'd left. Had barely screamed at him at all, and never tried to peck at him the way He did Red and Boar.\n\nLeif sighed. Nothing was the same anymore. He wondered sometimes whether he should have founded the order at all. A selfish part of him wished he'd never called Red that day, all those years ago, that he had kept the peacock a secret between him and the universe. Would that have been such a terrible life?\n\nThe peacock screamed and rustled His wings warningly, and Leif abruptly cut off that train of thought. \"Purple Sage,\" he repeated, more firmly this time. He'd made his choice, and he wasn't going to back down now. He couldn't. \"We'll find new people there.\"\n\nThey were three hours out from the festival grounds, and Kris could already feel the change. It wasn't just that it was drier, the desert soaking up the sun and chasing every last shred of moisture from the air: everything looked sharper in the desert, more vivid, like reality was suddenly realer. The atmosphere crackled with expectation, and Kris couldn't keep still.\n\n\"I've never been to a music festival before,\" he said to Cassie on the phone. He was curled up in his bunk as they trundled down the highway, trying to block out the band's chatter. \"I don't know what I'm doing.\"\n\n\"You'd never been to a gig anywhere bigger than a dive bar, either,\" she said reasonably. \"You'll figure it out. We're coming to see you, by the way.\"\n\n\"Wait, what? Who's we?\"\n\n\"All of us,\" Cass said. \"Me and Brad and Mom and Dad. We're on the road now. We should be there tomorrow. We wanted to see you play live!\"\n\nKris tensed up instinctively. \"Why is Brad coming? This isn't his scene.\"\n\n\"He said it had been a while since you two hung out.\" He imagined her offering a careless shrug. \"He said we should have gone to a closer show, but Mom and Dad thought it'd be cool to make a whole trip out of it, so here we are.\"\n\n\"Well, shit. Okay. We'll be here.\"\n\n\"And you'll be awesome. I have to go, but stop freaking out! Go find Rayne and make him give you a hug.\"\n\nKris sighed. \"Say hi to everybody for me. Love you. Bye.\"\n\n\"Bye!\"\n\nHe ended the call and climbed out of his bunk. While he hadn't been avoiding Rayne since the hotel, he hadn't been actively seeking him out, either. He found him on the couch chatting with Lenny, and sat down beside him and buried his face in Rayne's shoulder, slinging his arms around Rayne's waist. Rayne put his arm around Kris's back without missing a beat in his conversation.\n\n\"Hey,\" Kris said during a pause, mostly to Rayne's hair. \"My family's coming to see us play tomorrow.\"\n\n\"That's great!\"\n\nKris groaned.\n\n\"Is it not great?\"\n\n\"I'm worried my parents are going to give me some kind of talk about life choices because of the makeup and stuff, and the last time I talked to my brother we yelled at each other, and I need you to not kick me out of the band after you meet my sister.\" He chanced a glance up. Rayne's eyebrows were raised, and Lenny looked amused. Stef and Maki came over to join them, likely drawn by the promise of drama.\n\n\"That's a lot,\" Rayne said eventually. \"Is there a reason I should kick you out of the band?\"\n\nKris shrugged and nestled closer. \"She's a fan. She has posters of you in her bedroom. It's weird.\"\n\n\"As long as she doesn't have a shrine and an altar, it should be fine. And if your parents or your brother start giving you shit, text me, and I'll say it's an emergency and I need you onstage right this second, no excuses.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nRayne's hand drifted up to Kris's hair, and Kris purred and leaned into it as Rayne scratched his scalp.\n\n\"It's going to be fine though.\"\n\n\"Course it is,\" Kris agreed. \"I'm not even panicking. It's totally cool. What's the festival going to be like?\"\n\n\"Festivals have a different energy than playing a show in a stadium for a few hours,\" Rayne said. \"More of a marathon than a sprint.\"\n\n\"It's hard to describe,\" Lenny said thoughtfully. \"You have to let it happen and decide for yourself.\"\n\n\"You take a desert, right,\" Stef chimed in, \"and you fill it with drugs and music and kids looking for meaning, or love, or just a week of stories to tell after the fact, and mostly everyone's there for the experience and it's all good, but I've never played a festival where things didn't get weird.\"\n\n\"Weird,\" Kris repeated.\n\n\"Not in a bad way,\" Maki said, \"but Stef's right. Festivals are . . . different.\"\n\n\"None of this is filling me with confidence, guys.\"\n\nRayne squeezed him tighter. \"It's like if everywhere else is the real world, then festivals are just slightly off-kilter from it. Everything gets turned up to eleven.\"\n\nKris glanced out the window in time to see a biker gang pass by in a rumble of tattoos and black leather.\n\n\"I don't know if that sounds like a place I want my parents to show up,\" he said.\n\n\"They probably remember Woodstock,\" Stef said with a shrug. \"Bet they know more about the scene than you think.\"\n\nKris decided he'd rather not think about that too hard. \"There's still my brother.\"\n\n\"What's the worst that could happen?\" Rayne asked optimistically.\n\n\"He's a Republican.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nKris buried his face in Rayne's shoulder while Rayne patted his arm.\n\n\"Maybe it won't be that bad?\" Rayne offered. \"You'll be pretty busy; you can avoid him if you have to. We'll help run interference.\"\n\n\"We totally will,\" Stef agreed. \"Like secret agent bodyguards.\"\n\n\"At least Cass should have fun,\" Kris mumbled into Rayne's shirt.\n\n\"You will too. We'll get set up and play our show and meet Calloway and Dead Generation later on, and everything will be great.\"\n\nKris nodded and clung tighter for a second, savoring the contact, before straightening. Once Rayne and Calloway were involved, there'd be no more of that for a while. Kris and Rayne could technically keep sneaking cuddles in private where the press couldn't catch them, but it seemed safer to stop entirely while Calloway was in the picture, so Kris wanted to store up what he could while he had the chance. \"No, you're right. Everything will be fine.\"\n\nThe last of the stages were still being built when they rolled in. The festival sprawled like an oasis in the desert, a tiny city of tents, trailers, and scaffolding all glittering hot as a mirage under the sun. Kris watched it unfold around him, his nose pressed to the window, as the bus made its way through to their campsite. They parked in a clearing, and it dawned on Kris that they were going to be living out of the bus for the next week until the festival wrapped up, outdoor toilets and showers and all.\n\nIt was still better than being homeless on the streets of New York.\n\nBy the time they started rehearsing, Kris's anxiety had settled into a nervous thrum of excitement. The songs came easily now, and he barely had to improvise at all anymore. He had their set list memorized, and he could anticipate Rayne's vocals as easily as he could his own solos. And he knew Rayne's habits onstage too\u2014how he looked when he was wound too tight, his expression and the set of his shoulders when he was about to prowl over and kiss Kris senseless. Kris kept one eye on him during rehearsal, watching for the signs, but they didn't come. They rarely did, except during the live shows, like Rayne wanted to bottle it all up until the pressure was too much and he couldn't keep it down any longer.\n\nKris liked it that way. It kept things clear between them, and clarity was what he needed, no matter what his traitorous body suggested to the contrary. A solid line between what they did onstage and how they were off it.\n\nHe still thought about that dream when he was trying to fall asleep at night. He tried not to dwell on it, but it crept in through the cracks in his resolve, and before he knew it, he'd be half-hard from a memory that had never even happened.\n\nIt was getting ridiculous.\n\nThis stunt with Calloway was the best thing for it. And while Rayne and Calloway were busy, Kris would throw himself into the festival and play so hard his mind didn't have time to wander. He and Rayne would cut down on the fan service onstage, and offstage, Rayne and Calloway would be boyfriends, at least while their pictures were being taken. It would all be good. And then later, when his head was clear\u2014after the tour, when Rayne wasn't influencing his decisions anymore\u2014then he would come out as bi.\n\nThe first night of the festival\u2014when the shadows grew long in the setting summer sun, the last of the stages had finally been erected, and the lanes were flooding with crowds of thousands at a time\u2014they took to the stage and Kris realized with a heavy drop of horror that his plan was not going to work.\n\nRayne kissed him like he wanted to eat him alive. He tangled one hand in Kris's hair, wrapped the other around his throat, and reeled him in like a fish on a hook and held him there, helpless, in front of their screaming fans. Kris's knees buckled and he nearly fell, but Rayne held him fast, licking into every inch of his mouth like he had something to prove. Kris moaned, uncaring if Rayne's mike picked it up, and licked back. His hands kept time on his guitar, moving mindlessly over the chords as his whole body lit up with want, his brain blank except for a chorus of Rayne, Rayne, Rayne.\n\nAfter the show, he stumbled backstage, dry-mouthed with a pounding heart and no plan except to douse himself in the coldest water he could find. It was better than nothing, though he doubted it would help. He had made it this far without rubbing one out because of Rayne, and he wasn't about to start now. His guitar stayed on him like armor, even as the rest of the band pulled him into their customary post-show embrace, sweating and panting and bright-eyed all around. He returned it, still riding the high himself, but this time trying to hide his blatant arousal from anyone else.\n\nHe didn't know why he bothered. Rayne got worked up onstage all the time; it was a combination of adrenaline and elation and Kris didn't want to flatter himself but he imagined he was no small part of it, either. There were entire websites dedicated to pictures of Rayne getting overly excited onstage, and Rayne never bothered denying them, so why should Kris?\n\nHe adjusted the guitar across his lap and skittered back to their dressing room, a separate trailer set up behind the stage, to get changed and clean the makeup from his face. Rayne's kiss had destroyed his lipstick, smudging it and making him look more wanton than usual. Rayne hadn't escaped unscathed either, finishing the show with his own lips darker than usual, but it had only made his smile all the more enticing. The crowd had screamed and wailed, begging them to continue.\n\n\"You good?\" Rayne asked from the doorway. The lipstick was smeared around his mouth, berry-dark. \"You bailed pretty fast.\"\n\n\"Needed water.\" Kris managed a smile. \"I'm good. It's all cool.\"\n\nRayne sidled in, ignoring Kris's attempted brush-off. \"Still worried about your family coming?\"\n\nKris's family had been the last thing on his mind. \"Yeah, that.\"\n\n\"Calloway's arriving with Dead Generation tomorrow morning; we'll tone our shows down once he gets here. Your parents don't have to see you and I doing all that in person. I still haven't committed to anything, though. Not for sure.\" Rayne's expression was a mixture of tentative hope and nervousness, and Kris didn't like seeing it on his face.\n\n\"But you're going to, right?\" Kris asked, pushing aside the way his stomach flipped at the thought. \"I think you should. If the label wants you to, then it must be a good career move. And who knows, maybe you and Calloway will hit it off for real.\"\n\nRayne's face shuttered for a split second before he smiled. \"Yeah, maybe we will.\"\n\nKris smiled back and adjusted his guitar strap, resolutely ignoring the way he felt faintly sick at the thought of Rayne getting involved, offstage and for real, with a guy who wasn't him. \"Cool,\" he said aloud. Everything was going to be fine.\n\nKris's family arrived the next morning, hours before The Chokecherries were due to take the stage again. The festival was a hive of constant activity, with additional bands and attendees arriving every hour, the tents and stages bursting with music and partygoers day and night. Dead Generation arrived around ten, but Rayne said they were busy setting up, and he was going to find them later. The energy was unlike anything Kris had ever felt\u2014maybe it was just because the air was hazy with weed and everyone seemed to be high on one thing or another, but it felt brimming with humanity at its best and most expressive, and Kris thought he could get high off that alone.\n\nThere was really a lot of weed.\n\nBut the combination of performing and connecting with fans he never thought he'd have left him feeling more at home in his skin than ever before, so when his family arrived on site he was dressed half in his stage clothes and half casually, with his hair ruffed up in a faux-hawk and eyeliner smudged around his lids. He wasn't fully done up and wouldn't be until closer to showtime, but he still got a thrill from seeing himself in the mirror with makeup on, so it was creeping further and further into his offstage life. He couldn't apply a convincing smoky eye yet, but if all he needed was a bit of kohl, he was set.\n\nThe downside to his increase in comfort was that he forgot he was wearing the stuff when he met his family.\n\nTo his parents' credit, they didn't comment. Cassie did, but nonverbally\u2014she pointed at him from behind their parents' backs, exaggeratedly miming at his face while grinning and giving him the thumbs-up. Brad stiffened and said nothing. Kris opened his mouth to apologize preemptively, then changed his mind and smiled instead.\n\n\"Thanks for coming all the way out here. You really didn't have to.\"\n\n\"Of course we did,\" his dad said. \"If you're going to go off touring the world, the least we could do was come see you before you left the country.\"\n\n\"I appreciate it. I, uh, I guess Cassie's been keeping you up-to-date on all the shows?\"\n\n\"You do look like you're having fun up there,\" his mom commented mildly, and Kris nearly choked on his tongue. \"That Rayne knows how to put on a show, doesn't he?\"\n\n\"He's a natural all right,\" his dad agreed.\n\nCass elbowed Kris in the ribs, still grinning.\n\n\"Lunch?\" Kris blurted. \"Let's get lunch. They've got decent food here, unless you want to drive out to an actual restaurant.\"\n\n\"Here's good,\" his mom said. \"We're here for the experience, after all.\"\n\nKris led them through the picnic area to the food trucks, where vendors of every possible cuisine had set up shop, from the vegan elites to the place where you went when you were drunk at 3 a.m. and the fridge was empty. They ordered their food and sat at a picnic table. Kris tried not to fidget. He was in his element, and his family was happy for him.\n\nExcept Bradley. Brad didn't seem happy.\n\nKris resolved to ignore him until he couldn't anymore.\n\n\"You're going to introduce us to the band, right?\" Cass asked, shoveling rice into her mouth. \"And Passionfruit too? They look fun. Do you think anyone would let me try their drum kit?\"\n\n\"You can ask about drumming. And I already warned Rayne you were coming, so sure, you can meet everybody,\" Kris said. \"That won't be weird for me at all.\"\n\n\"We met your last band,\" his dad pointed out.\n\n\"In high school,\" Kris replied. \"This is a bit different.\"\n\n\"Your last one didn't dress you up like a girl and grope you in front of a million people,\" Brad said.\n\nEveryone stilled and Kris sighed internally. Of course he wouldn't be allowed to ignore Brad.\n\n\"It's for the show, Brad,\" he said, repeating their press line with as much patience as he could muster.\n\n\"Hell of a show,\" Brad replied.\n\n\"I think it's great,\" Cass cut in. \"People are loving it. Don't crush his entertainment dreams, Brad.\"\n\nBrad held up his hands. \"I'm not here to crush anything. I just want you to realize how it looks to other people.\"\n\n\"It looks fucking punk,\" Cass insisted.\n\n\"Okay,\" his dad said, \"let's everybody cool down. Kris, why don't you tell us about the rest of the tour? What are your plans after the festival?\"\n\nKris dived in gratefully, talking about the band's plans and where Rayne wanted to go, and where the international tour would take them\u2014not that Kris was officially signed on for that part\u2014but he kept stealing glances at Brad out of the corner of his eye. Brad didn't interrupt again, but he didn't relax, either. Kris finally texted Rayne under the table, demanding that he show up and provide a distraction.\n\nRayne came over a few minutes later; Kris knew his arrival by the sharp intake of Cassie's breath.\n\n\"Sorry to interrupt,\" Rayne said, and Kris let out a sigh of relief. He loved his family, he really did, but negotiating Bradley's idiot ideals of masculinity was the last thing he wanted to deal with. \"I was going to borrow Kris for a minute, but if he's busy . . .?\"\n\nKris stood, grabbed Rayne by the wrist and made a gesture like Vanna White. \"So hey, this is Rayne! Rayne Bakshi. Rayne, this is my family.\"\n\nHis parents smiled and Cassie gazed at Kris imploringly, stars in her eyes, pleading for him to stay. He relented, grudgingly abandoning his plan of escape. \"You guys want to walk us back to the . . . stage? Bus? Where are we going, Rayne?\"\n\n\"The bus,\" Rayne said. \"There's been a slight incident.\" He held out his hand to Frank, smiling widely. \"And you're Kris's dad! I've heard about you. All of you,\" he amended. \"Did you have a good drive?\"\n\nKris's dad shook Rayne's hand and smiled back, clearly relieved to find Rayne capable of small talk. \"A good drive, yes, thank you. Beautiful landscape, beautiful country. And it looks like you've got decent weather for the festival too.\"\n\n\"Couldn't ask for better,\" Rayne agreed, offering his hand to Kris's mom next, who seemed charmed. Rayne had that effect on people.\n\n\"And my sister, Cassie,\" Kris said.\n\nCass squeaked, grinned, and thrust her hand out at lightning speed. \"Hi. Rayne. Rayne Bakshi. Hey.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" Rayne said, his eyes sparkling. \"I heard you keep my picture in your room.\"\n\n\"Kris!\"\n\nRayne laughed and patted her shoulder. \"No, I'm flattered. He promised there wasn't a shrine or anything, so it's fine. You want to meet the rest of the band?\"\n\n\"I get why Kris likes you,\" Cass said, allowing his hand to stay. \"You're awful. I love it.\"\n\nThey set out together back to the buses, and if anyone noticed that Brad never got introduced or shook Rayne's hand, no one commented on it.\n\nKris was surprised to find that there really had been an incident with the bands: Knocks, Passionfruit's drummer, had broken his foot and been whisked away to the nearest hospital, and the remaining band members were huddled outside The Chokecherries' bus, nursing various alcoholic beverages and looking morose.\n\n\"What happened?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Jay tried to kill our drummer,\" Billie said.\n\n\"It was an accident,\" Jay said.\n\n\"You tackled him into the middle of his drum kit. You're lucky you didn't break his neck.\"\n\n\"I didn't know he was going to get tangled up in the pedals like that.\"\n\nBillie sighed. \"And now we're trying to borrow Lenny for our show tonight instead.\"\n\nLenny raised his drink in a salute.\n\n\"You're going to play two shows back-to-back every night for the rest of the festival?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"That's what I said,\" Rayne cut in, glowering at Passionfruit.\n\n\"We need a drummer,\" Billie returned, \"and Lenny knows all the songs. Mostly. Kind of.\"\n\nRayne cleared his throat. \"Everyone, this is Kris's family. They're here to see the show.\"\n\nCassie waved. Kris's parents smiled and fidgeted, keeping a polite distance while Brad stood stony-faced, arms crossed and feet planted firmly on the ground.\n\n\"Cass wanted to meet the bands, and the timing kind of sucks, but hey?\" Kris tried.\n\n\"The timing's fine,\" Rayne said. \"It's a festival. There's always something going on.\"\n\nBillie sighed again, more heavily this time.\n\n\"You know I didn't do it on purpose,\" Jay muttered, sotto voce.\n\n\"We're talking about this later,\" Billie said.\n\nKris winced and turned back to his family. \"So, this is it. Passionfruit; The Chokecherries. Check out the glamorous life of bands on tour.\"\n\n\"Accidents happen,\" his mom said diplomatically. \"They're rarely the end of the world.\"\n\n\"But obviously you're all very busy, and we should get out of your hair,\" his dad said.\n\n\"No, it's fine!\" Billie said. \"It'll be fine. Do you want a drink? We've got beer.\" He glanced at Cassie. \"Or water, or Coke?\"\n\n\"I'll have a Coke,\" Cassie said, happily undermining her parents' attempt at retreat. \"Is your drummer going to be okay?\"\n\n\"He'll be fine,\" Jay stressed, pulling a can from the cooler for her. \"Grab a seat, hang out with us.\"\n\nCassie sat down on top of the cooler and looked at the rest of her family expectantly.\n\n\"We really don't want to get in anyone's way,\" their mom began.\n\nAs much as he'd like to avoid Brad, Kris felt bad giving his parents the same treatment. \"Stay until we go for makeup in another hour,\" he said. \"It'll be fun.\"\n\nRayne nodded. Cassie was already making herself at home as if she were among old friends, smiling and chatting away. Brad scowled\u2014almost imperceptibly; Kris didn't think anyone else would notice\u2014but took a seat with the others. Hatchwork, the mustachioed Passionfruit bassist, drew Kris's parents into a conversation about their hometown, which they were only too glad to have. Lenny was engrossed in a quiet argument between Rayne and Billie.\n\n\"You've met Rayne now,\" Kris said to Cass. \"This is Maki and Stef\u2014and that's Lenny, over there.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" Stef said with a smile.\n\n\"Hi.\" Cassie smiled back. \"I've seen your videos. Love your work.\"\n\nMaki caught Kris's eye and gave him a knowing smile. Kris rubbed his hand over his face, not caring about smudging his makeup anymore.\n\n\"I can play drums, you know,\" Cassie said.\n\nEveryone paused and looked at her.\n\nShe shrugged. \"I'm pretty good. Kris can vouch for me. Just putting that out there.\"\n\n\"Cassie,\" Brad said.\n\n\"What? I am.\"\n\n\"How fast can you learn a new song?\" Billie asked, leaning in.\n\n\"I know most of your set already,\" she said, taking a swig from her drink. \"I checked out your albums when Kris said you were opening for Rayne, and I've been watching all your concerts since you started the tour. I bet I could play most of it right now. See?\" She offered her phone to show off a recording of her on her kit in the garage. She played as steady as a metronome, and she smashed out her solos with the energy of a hurricane.\n\n\"Damn,\" Billie said. \"That's actually amazing.\" Cassie preened as Billie glanced around at the rest of his band. \"What do we think, guys?\"\n\n\"Hell with it,\" Jay said. \"Let's audition her. What have we got to lose?\"\n\n\"You can't be serious,\" Brad said, but though their parents exchanged a few whispered words, they didn't voice any objections.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" Rayne said, ignoring Brad entirely in favor of addressing Kris's parents. \"There's a billion people around to keep an eye on her. She won't get into any trouble.\"\n\nCassie beamed and finished her drink. \"No trouble at all,\" she promised, and then she was sauntering off with Passionfruit like that had been her plan all along.\n\nBrad turned to their parents. \"You're really going to let her go off like that without\u2014\"\n\n\"Oh, give her a break,\" Kris cut in. \"It's a festival, she's an adult. Let her enjoy herself for a minute. Jesus.\"\n\n\"I'm sure it's fine,\" their mom said. \"Like Mr. Bakshi said, there are plenty of people around to watch out for her.\"\n\nKris flashed Brad a spiteful smile. He wasn't sure what to make of Cassie auditioning for Passionfruit, but if it annoyed Brad, he was all for it.\n\nLeif was at home in music festivals, and Purple Sage was one of his personal favorites. He sat with his disciples in a clearing between a ring of tents, their bikes parked nearby and the peacock wandering the grounds, as was His wont. The bird never strayed too far, and it wasn't as if He could get lost, so Leif let Him be. He talked about his spirituality in a low, calm voice as he etched a fresh tattoo on Boar's leg. They had attracted a few onlookers, including a twitchy, strung-out youth named Travis who watched wide-eyed as the needle dug into Boar's skin and the ink set.\n\n\"Will you do me next?\" he asked, but before Leif could answer, a black girl with a huge halo of curly hair stumbled into their circle as she rounded the corner of the nearest tent.\n\n\"Sorry,\" she said. \"Didn't mean to barge in on you like that.\"\n\nLeif glanced up from his work to see if she was interested in hearing about their god, and she stared back, apparently not expecting to run into such a gathering. Leif knew how they appeared to casual passersby: pale as bone and covered in strange scribbled tattoos, their heads shaved, and dressed head to toe in scuffed-up bike leathers. Anyone who wanted to hear about the universe, their god, and their coming salvation had to see past their rough exteriors to the truth.\n\n\"It's no problem,\" Rikki said to the young woman.\n\nRikki didn't fit in with the others yet. He was the order's newest recruit: the youngest of them, and the slightest, too, with big pale eyes and a face too earnest to make a living the way they did, though he believed in their god as fervently as Leif could wish. They'd work on him.\n\nThe woman gave Rikki a short nod and sidestepped out of their midst. \"Enjoy the festival,\" she said, and left quickly, without looking back.\n\nLeif returned his attention to Boar's tattoo, but he didn't miss the way Rikki watched the woman as she disappeared into the mess of tents.\n\nIt was easy for Kris to forget that his family was in the audience by the time The Chokecherries took the stage. Passionfruit killed it, playing even more aggressively than usual, as if to make up for losing a member, but Cassie took to it like breathing. Apparently she had nailed the audition, and while Passionfruit had still wanted to test her in front of a live crowd, they had been vibrating with enthusiasm about her skills, telling everyone who passed that she was a genius and they needed to steal her for the rest of their tour. She broke a stick halfway through the set, and Passionfruit looked pleased as anything about it. When they traipsed offstage, she smacked Kris on the chest as she passed, sweaty and wrung out, grinning from ear to ear.\n\n\"This is great!\" she yelled. \"Way better than our band in high school. I get why you do it!\"\n\n\"Nice playing, kid,\" Stef said. \"You're a natural.\"\n\n\"Hell yeah, I am. Go get it!\"\n\nWhen their set began, Kris played as he always did, keyed up with tension the second until the opening riff started and Rayne took the stage. By then he wasn't thinking about his parents or Calloway or the future at all. Rayne commanded the crowd's attention with a crook of his finger and shake of his head, and he stole Kris's just as easily. The Chokecherries played with the same passion they always did, and Rayne sang with the same raw energy, but this time, when Kris waited for their midshow kiss, it didn't come.\n\nKris frowned and tried to catch Rayne's eye, but Rayne wasn't looking.\n\nThere was nothing wrong with changing it up. They could always do the kiss later.\n\nLater came and went, and Kris grew increasingly twitchy behind his guitar. He had thought they would keep their shows as they were until Calloway entered the picture, for the fans' sake. Had Rayne already met with Calloway and begun the stunt without telling Kris?\n\nWhen they only had three tracks left, Kris finally tore a page from Passionfruit's book and launched an attack, barreling into Rayne from the side and jabbing his shoulder into Rayne's chest, all without missing a chord. Rayne took a fistful of Kris's hair, whether to hold him in place or push him away, Kris didn't know. It didn't matter. All he needed was Rayne's hands on him, somewhere, anywhere, especially if it was going to be the last time. He butted into Rayne's space, demanding more, but Rayne still didn't kiss him. He came close, pulling Kris's back in against his chest so Kris could feel their heartbeats thundering in tandem, even above the bass and the kick of the drums, and his lips ghosted over Kris's temple, but they didn't touch.\n\nKris leaned back, eyes closed as he coaxed the riff from his guitar, and dared Rayne to touch him for real. He let the music swell around him and Rayne's heat soak through his shirt as his mouth parted, throat bared to the sky, waiting.\n\nWhen Rayne shuddered, Kris felt it in his whole body. They moved into Stef's solo, and Rayne bent forward, his hand splayed against Kris's chest, and he mouthed, \"You little brat,\" against the shell of Kris's ear.\n\n\"Why did you skip our thing?\" Kris mouthed back. \"Is it Calloway?\"\n\n\"I haven't even met him yet.\"\n\n\"Then stop fucking around.\"\n\n\"Your parents are watching!\"\n\n\"I'm not asking you to fuck me onstage!\"\n\nRayne dug his nails into Kris's skin, and Kris rocked against him. \"Just kiss me before we go backstage again, and give the people their money's worth.\"\n\n\"You're incorrigible.\"\n\nKris twisted around in Rayne's grasp, flinging one arm around Rayne's neck, the other holding his guitar between them, to meet Rayne's gaze. They stared at each other for a second, Kris daring him to do something, anything\u2014and Rayne finally smiled in exasperation and leaned down to press their lips together. It was more chaste than usual, but the crowd screamed right on cue all the same, and Kris shut his eyes and basked in it. Rayne's grip in his hair tightened as he laughed into Kris's mouth, smudging lipstick everywhere.\n\n\"You're the worst,\" Rayne said when they parted.\n\n\"You started it,\" Kris said, his heart pounding at the thought that that might have been their last kiss until the festival was over. \"Now you have to follow through.\"\n\nRayne shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes, and stepped up to the mike stand again. Kris let him go this time as Stef pounded out the last of their solo, and Rayne opened his mouth for the final chorus. Kris returned to his spot, hot all over. He was definitely going to have withdrawal symptoms if he couldn't do that again the next day.\n\nBrad found him backstage after the show. By that point Passionfruit was long gone and the rest of The Chokecherries had dispersed as Kris took an extra minute to pull himself together before rejoining Rayne. Kris glanced up as Brad approached with a guarded expression and leaned against a set of scaffolding, watching Kris for a moment. Kris set his jaw and wiped his face with his sleeve, clearing up the excess sweat near his hairline as he waited for Brad to speak.\n\n\"I get that you're doing it for the show,\" Brad finally said, \"and you don't want to let your fans down. I can respect that. But can you seriously not see how he's using you? He's a predator, Kris!\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah, he's really taking advantage of me up there.\" Kris rolled his eyes and put his guitar away. \"Just let it go, man. I'm having a good time.\"\n\n\"Listen to me. You're my little brother, and I worry about you. And this? What you're doing? I know you think this is the only chance you've got of fulfilling your dream or whatever, but have you stopped to ask yourself if it's actually worth it?\"\n\nKris paused and narrowed his eyes. \"Are you worried somebody's forcing me to do all this shit, or are you worried I'm actually into it?\"\n\nBrad's mouth twisted.\n\n\"No, tell me,\" Kris said. \"What's worse\u2014your little brother being bullied into wearing girly clothes and getting groped onstage, or it being all his idea?\"\n\n\"Kris\u2014\"\n\n\"What's worse?\" Kris demanded. \"That I'm a victim or a pansy?\"\n\n\"I didn't come here to fight,\" Brad snapped. \"If you don't want my support, fine!\" He turned and stalked off the way he'd come, away from the stage and back in the direction of the family car.\n\n\"Fuck you too!\" Kris yelled after him, before he disappeared into the crowds.\n\nCass poked her head around the corner. \"Bad timing?\"\n\n\"Fucking Bradley, sanctimonious asshole,\" Kris muttered.\n\n\"Yeah,\" she agreed. \"Just wait till he tries to warn Mom and Dad about the dangers of me running away with a punk band.\"\n\n\"The Passionfruit guys are sweethearts,\" Kris said automatically. \"Wait, are you really joining the band?\"\n\n\"I passed the audition,\" she said with a shrug, \"and they say I did good on the live show. They need a drummer, at least until Knocks is back on his feet. It's almost as cool as running away to join the circus, and I've wanted to do that since I was a kid.\"\n\n\"Cool,\" Kris said faintly.\n\n\"Cool,\" Cassie confirmed. \"Have you seen Stef? I want to talk to them about something.\"\n\n\"Right, yeah, I'm sure. They were heading back to the buses, last I heard.\"\n\nCassie grinned. \"Thanks, bro. See you later.\"\n\n\"Cassie? No hooking up on the buses! Tour rule!\"\n\nShe waved over her shoulder. \"Sure, sure. Whatever you say.\"\n\nKris flopped onto the baggy couch and pressed a water bottle against his face. Why Brad had even wanted to come to Nevada, he didn't know. The idea that Brad suddenly wanted to spend time with Kris after years of minimal contact was laughable. They hadn't been close since before high school, and by the time they both finished community college, they'd had little in common outside their family tree. If Brad had come along on the Golding road trip out of some misguided attempt to show Kris the error of his ways and guide him back to the conservative, heteronormative light, he was going to have to try harder than that. Even if Kris left the band after they finished the tour and never wore girls' clothes or makeup again, he wasn't going to forget how incredible it had felt to kiss Rayne, or that dream in the hotel, or how he wanted to\u2014\n\nHe rubbed his fingers over his eyes and shoved his thoughts back into order. He could barely remember why he had wanted to keep Rayne off-limits in the first place. Closing his eyes, he let a fantasy run wild for a second. He would come out to Rayne; they'd do a press release and kiss onstage. Then maybe they'd kiss offstage too. He'd talk to Brian and assure him that what had happened with Fink would never happen with Kris, and his family would come around quickly enough\u2014apart from Brad. Maybe he should come out just to spite his brother.\n\n\"Stop it,\" he said aloud, sternly. Fantasy aside, there was too much at risk in propositioning Rayne\u2014like his career, and his friendship, and his dignity, if Rayne rejected him. Rayne had never shown any interest in being more than friends, and Kris didn't need to invite awkwardness into their lives, or joblessness into his.\n\nHis fantasy ran in full Technicolor, suggesting a few other things he could invite instead.\n\nHe groaned. \"That's so unhelpful,\" he muttered to his brain.\n\nThe fact that he wanted to sleep with Rayne\u2014not hypothetically, not in a dream, but in a definite, real, messily undeniable way\u2014didn't get the due diligence it deserved. It seemed like the kind of revelation that should come down like a ton of bricks, but mostly Kris was just annoyed.\n\nThe timing sucked, but Kris was willing to take the blame for that. He should have figured out his attraction earlier; he should have admitted it the second that dream had come crashing through his subconscious. But just because Rayne had dragged his bisexuality over the threshold from a probability to a mouth-watering surety\u2014right at the moment Calloway was due to enter the picture\u2014that wasn't cause for a crisis. It was cause for a plan.\n\nHe had more than a crush, and it was only getting stronger as the days went on; that was fine. His plan could work with that. Rayne would do his stunt with Calloway while Kris worked up the nerve to come out, and if by the time the stunt was over Kris still wanted to sleep with Rayne? Then he'd tell him that too.\n\nKris was itching to meet Calloway in person and get things underway. Neither Rayne nor Brian had announced anything about the stunt to the rest of The Chokecherries yet, but they clearly knew something was winding Kris up. Kris wasn't about to admit to having feelings for Rayne and to depending on a publicity stunt with a stranger to get him over them, so they all circled around each other pretending everything was normal. It was exhausting, and he was strung so tight he might snap, but when he was a second away from flinging himself from the bus to pace the festival, Rayne beckoned him over. Dead Generation was ready.\n\nKris headed across the grounds with Rayne and Angel, his nerves twisting around like it was his career on the line and no one else's. Technically, he didn't need to meet Calloway at all. Rayne was perfectly capable of making a decision about the stunt on his own. But Kris wasn't going to turn down any chance to hang out, no matter how stressful, so he accepted Rayne's invitation to tag along. Rayne looked brightly optimistic and Angel seemed amused by the whole thing, and Kris let them walk ahead while he pulled himself together.\n\n\"You're not slick, you know,\" Angel said eventually, her voice pitched softly enough that Kris assumed she was speaking to Rayne alone. \"You can't stand publicity stunts. You've always said if somebody's music can't stand on its own, it's not worth listening to.\"\n\n\"I have no idea what you're talking about,\" Rayne replied loftily.\n\n\"You talk to . . .?\"\n\n\"He told me I should go for it.\"\n\nAngel glanced back at Kris, who wondered if he should hang farther back to let them talk in peace. He waved, and Angel smiled at him, then turned to Rayne and murmured something too low for Kris to catch.\n\n\"If I were secretly pining for him, sure,\" Rayne said, his voice light, and Angel didn't seem inclined to push the matter further.\n\nThe Dead Generation stage was easy to find, their banner a huge black-and-white thing with skulls and crossbones. Beside them, an androgynous creature with pink hair was rigging a banner that read Neurts and the Synthetic Skunks between two sets of scaffolding for the opening act. Calloway sat on the edge of the stage, kicking his sneakers against the side as he took a swig from his water bottle. When he saw them approach, he lifted his hand in an easy greeting and hopped down to meet them. He was even more attractive in real life: taller than Rayne, with strong shoulders and a vitality that infused his every movement like he was living entirely in the present, and keen to make the most of it. He was less of a twink than Kris\u2014and Kris suspected twink was basically Rayne's type\u2014but that wasn't a fair comparison. Kris was like, the Platonic Ideal of twinkdom. A few tattoos scrawled around Calloway's arms and peeked out from under the neck of his shirt. Kris tried to imagine him and Rayne in glossy tabloid photos together, arms around each other's necks and knowing smiles on their lips. They would look flashy like rock royalty, and the press would eat it up.\n\n\"Hi,\" Calloway said, offering his hand to whoever wanted to take it first. \"I'm Cal. Nice to meet you.\" He had an easy smile and his words lilted with a rough Irish accent.\n\nRayne took his hand with an answering smile, turning on the same charm Kris recognized from his press interviews. \"Rayne. Nice to meet you too. This is my guitarist Kris, and Angel, my makeup artist and . . . bodyguard?\"\n\n\"I'm a lot of things,\" Angel said, taking his hand and flashing a smile. \"Moral support and common sense, at the moment.\"\n\n\"Yeah, we could use some of that,\" Calloway agreed, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish air. When Kris shook his hand next, his grip was warm and sturdy. Every inch of exposed skin was covered in freckles, peeking out from in between tattoos, and the hairs that dusted his forearms were gold from the sun. \"I've heard about you, of course. You've been making quite a splash in the tabloids with your recent shows.\"\n\n\"I don't read the tabloids,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Neither did I, till quite recently.\" Cal looked back to Rayne. \"So, how do you want to do this? Your manager said you were still thinking it over, and I understand your not wanting to jump straight in. Or at all.\"\n\n\"Well, I thought I'd come and meet you, and we'd have a chat,\" Rayne said easily, \"maybe get to know each other a bit. See if we get along well enough to fake a relationship for a week.\"\n\n\"Right, right, that won't be awkward at all.\" Calloway smiled again, and Kris could see why the label wanted to keep him around. A pretty face went a long way in the industry, if Rayne's stories were anything to go by.\n\n\"Let's head to the picnic tables and grab some food,\" Rayne suggested. \"Talk things out. Angel? Kris? You want to join us?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't miss it,\" Angel said, and Kris nodded along agreeably.\n\nThey grabbed some food and took a seat in the picnic area, Rayne sitting between Angel and Kris with Calloway across from them, as if they were in an interview. Rayne still had his press face on, the one that made him look perfectly at ease, but which Kris knew to be a carefully constructed mask. He thought about the first time he met Rayne and they'd gone to that burger place\u2014that had been an interview too, of sorts, but he was sure Rayne had been nothing but genuine the entire time. The thought helped melt some of the nerves away.\n\nCalloway isn't replacing me. It's a stunt to boost album sales, and it'll be over as soon as we leave Purple Sage.\n\n\"A lot of Dead Generation fans love The Chokecherries,\" Calloway said. \"If I have to pull a stunt like this, I'm glad it's with you, at least. Though I'm surprised you're considering it at all\u2014I thought you and Kris had a thing going on.\"\n\n\"I haven't agreed to anything yet,\" Rayne pointed out before Kris could say anything, \"and no. Kris is straight.\"\n\n\"Are you?\" Calloway asked him. \"My god, that's dedication. I'd never have guessed.\"\n\nKris swallowed the panicked lump in his throat\u2014this was his perfect chance to say otherwise\u2014but by the time he opened his mouth, Cal was talking again.\n\n\"I assumed the label was pushing you into this to cover up you and Kris, actually, though I couldn't figure out why. But this is cleaner. And hey, if things go well, who knows what could happen?\" He winked.\n\nKris glanced at Rayne and tried to detect any glimmer of interest behind the perfectly professional veneer. Rayne just looked amused.\n\n\"We'll see how it goes,\" Rayne agreed, and Cal grinned wider in response. \"So how did you get outed? Not to pry, but if the press comes up asking me about a sex tape or something, I'd like to be prepared.\"\n\n\"Now that you mention it\u2014 No, they caught me at a gay club with a friend. The label said if I got a girlfriend and laughed it off, it would blow over fast enough, but I couldn't bear the thought of lying, only to come out on my own years later.\"\n\nA rush of guilt burned through Kris, and he laced his fingers together on the tabletop until his knuckles went white. Angel glanced at him behind Rayne's back, her brows knitted in concern, but he shook his head. If Rayne or Cal noticed anything amiss, they pretended not to, for which Kris was grateful.\n\n\"So they set this up instead,\" Cal continued. \"It really wasn't very scandalous at all, I'm afraid. I'd at least have liked a good story out of it.\"\n\nCalloway was charming enough; he wasn't obnoxious like some front men could be, and he had an easy air to him, like he wasn't inclined to take things personally. If Rayne turned him down, Kris guessed they could all still be friends. Beside him, Rayne relaxed, likely reading those same signs.\n\n\"Tell you what,\" Rayne said, and Calloway brightened and sat up straighter. \"I like what I've heard of your band, and you don't seem like a serial killer. I'll do it. Give me one of your Dead Generation shirts to wear for my next show\u2014that'll be enough to start the rumor mill on its own.\"\n\nCalloway grinned and leaned over the table to take Rayne's hand again. \"This'll be fun,\" he promised. Up close, his eyes were a dark, sparkling blue, and when he turned his smile on Kris, Kris forced himself to smile back. His inner turmoil wasn't Cal's fault, after all.\n\n\"You should come meet the rest of the band,\" Angel said. \"And you three should have a talk about what this means for The Chokecherries' shows, with the kissing and all that.\"\n\nRayne elbowed her and she elbowed him back harder, still smiling brightly at Cal.\n\n\"Kris and I agreed to tone things down while you and I are together,\" Rayne said. \"No more kissing, but we want to keep a little teasing, if that's cool with you. The crowds are into it, you know?\"\n\n\"For sure,\" Calloway agreed, grinning between the two of them. \"It's all for the fans. Definitely nothing else going on.\"\n\nKris bit his tongue to hide his wince and managed to keep his smile in place.\n\nRayne sighed. \"You're going to be trouble, I can tell. Come on, come meet the others. Let's get this rolling.\"\n\nCalloway detoured back to his stage to grab a shirt for Rayne, and Angel looped her arm through Rayne's as they waited. Kris stood, leaning his hip against the table as he soaked up the sun.\n\n\"So?\" Angel asked. \"What do you guys think? You like him?\"\n\n\"I agreed to go out with him, didn't I? Or pretend to, anyway,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"You think he's cute?\" she pressed. \"Maybe hit that thing for real? He clearly wants to.\"\n\n\"Stop it, you.\"\n\n\"It could do you some good,\" she said with a shrug, then glanced at Kris, who kept his face carefully neutral. \"This is your perfect chance to unwind and have some fun, and you don't even have to hide it from the press. Hell, you get to flaunt it!\"\n\n\"You're a terrible influence.\"\n\n\"What do you think, Kris?\" Angel asked pointedly. \"If they're both into each other, can you think of one good reason why they shouldn't give it a shot?\"\n\nKris remembered their inebriated conversation in the White Rabbit\u2014how he'd told her he liked kissing Rayne, and how he'd never declined her offer to find him a label other than \"straight\" to encompass that. She would never out him without his say, but he wished she would, just to get it over with, since he was clearly having trouble doing it himself. Before he could form a semicoherent reply, Calloway came loping back, waving a black T-shirt with the Dead Generation logo sprawled across the chest. He tossed it to Rayne, who shrugged out of his old shirt in a single smooth movement. As Rayne changed, Kris's and Calloway's gazes met and Calloway grinned knowingly before turning away.\n\nKris had seen Rayne shirtless a thousand times by now\u2014privacy was a foreign concept on tour\u2014but the sight was affecting him more and more. He'd have to be less obvious about it if Calloway could see through him so easily.\n\nFully clothed again, Rayne put his arm around Cal's shoulders and pulled him along as the four of them walked back to The Chokecherries' stage. Cal fell in line easily, matching his longer strides to the group's.\n\n\"So what did you do before your band?\" Angel asked.\n\n\"Oh, this and that. Dropped out of university and traveled around. Bit of a vagrant, really. Had a brief fling with a cult; that was exciting, I can tell you.\"\n\nThey all made an inquisitive noise.\n\n\"Yeah, not my wisest life choice, but it served as a wake-up call. I cleaned up my act, and now I'm here.\"\n\n\"Wait, you're not joking?\" Kris demanded.\n\n\"About the cult? Nah. It'll make a good chapter in my memoir, if I ever get big enough to write one.\"\n\nAngel darted in, her eyes fixed on the arm Calloway had slung around Rayne's waist. \"Those tattoos . . .\"\n\n\"Ah, yeah, I'm covering most of the older ones up. I'm a work in progress.\"\n\nShe frowned and took his hand, bumping Rayne aside with her hip to swap places and walk next to Calloway instead.\n\n\"I've seen designs like this before,\" she said, turning his hand over and examining his arm in full. The tattoos were unintelligible, a million miles from what Jiao Fang and her ilk could do. There were bits of writing in languages and alphabets Kris didn't know, scrawled pictures of flowers or strange animals up and down his arms. There was the outline of an eye on the back of his left hand.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Cal said, \"I don't know what most of them are either.\"\n\n\"Where did you get them?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"A guy I knew had his own kit. I'm lucky I never got an infection, but I was an idiot kid. He explained what they all were at the time, but it never made a lot of sense. I can barely remember, now. That was years ago. It all feels like a dream, honestly.\"\n\nAngel dropped his hand and stared at him. \"Did you have your head shaved back then?\"\n\nHe blinked. \"Yeah, actually. We all did.\"\n\n\"What?\" Rayne asked, glancing between the two of them.\n\n\"That's where I saw these tattoos before, on those skinhead guys I ran into earlier,\" Angel said. \"They all had them. You're not joking about the cult. They're here.\"\n\n\"Are they?\" Calloway looked around like he expected them to leap out from behind the nearest tent. \"I'm not surprised. I met them at a music festival in the first place. They like these sorts of places. They're not so bad,\" he added. \"They're not like some ritual death cult or anything. They just go around on their bikes and talk about the universe, really. Like big leathery hippies.\"\n\n\"I'm . . . a bit lost,\" Rayne admitted. \"Angel? You met a cult?\"\n\n\"I missed that part too,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Yeah, I ran into them earlier. I didn't know they were a cult, but I got a weird feeling about them.\" She eyed Calloway. \"You sure they're all right?\"\n\nCalloway shifted uncomfortably. \"They were never dangerous when I was with them,\" he offered. \"I don't think they know I'm here. It's not like we've kept in touch. My manager knows about them, though not the details. I never even mentioned it to the label.\"\n\nThe Chokecherries' stage came into view and they all slowed.\n\n\"Okay,\" Rayne said. \"Just . . . try not to mention it to the rest of the band? Definitely don't mention it to Brian. That's the kind of thing that'll give him an aneurysm, and we like Brian. We need to keep him around.\"\n\nCalloway nodded sheepishly. \"Right. Sorry. Pretend I never said anything.\"\n\nThey headed backstage to where the rest of The Chokecherries were waiting, and Kris took a deep breath. They were committed to the stunt. As long as he didn't interfere, it would go off without a hitch. Brian and the label would be happy, Rayne and Cal would be happy, and he would have enough time to settle his nerves before coming out. And hopefully his feelings for Rayne would dissipate too. He had this covered.\n\n\"Hey, guys,\" Rayne said, tugging Calloway forward to make introductions. \"This is Cal, from Dead Generation, and we're . . . seeing each other?\" The Chokecherries immediately broke into catcalls, and Rayne rolled his eyes at them. \"It's not too late to call everything off, you know.\"\n\n\"Nah, you've got this,\" Kris said. \"It'll be great.\"\n\n\"Course it will,\" Cal agreed. \"So, since the paparazzi have been so keen on making up stories about your stage kisses, would you prefer rumors of cheating, or a threesome now that I've butted in?\"\n\nThe catcalls went up again, led mainly by Stef.\n\nRayne glanced at Kris with an exasperated smile. Angel scowled at all three of them like she wanted to smack some sense into their heads, a line of aggravation between her brows.\n\n\"We don't need either,\" Kris said firmly. \"We'll quit messing around, like Brian suggested, and we'll remind the press that the show stuff was just for the fans, like we've been saying all along. All three of us can tell them at once, if they want. No cheating, and no threesomes.\"\n\n\"A little speculation is unavoidable, but I'm not worried,\" Rayne said. \"The rest of you,\" he added, addressing Stef, Len, and Maki, \"no stirring the pot. It's only while the festival is running; you can give me shit for it later.\"\n\n\"We will,\" Stef assured him.\n\n\"Nothing personal,\" Maki told Calloway. \"He needs to be kept in his place.\"\n\n\"You're all terrible,\" Rayne said. \"Cal? Second thoughts?\"\n\n\"No, no. If everyone's happy to go along with it, I think it should be fun.\" Calloway caught Kris's gaze. \"Assuming everyone is happy?\"\n\nKris put on a smile. \"It's cool.\" He almost believed it, too. Calloway and Rayne looked good together, and that was the most important thing as far as the paparazzi were concerned. And Calloway seemed amiable: maybe a year or two older than Kris, sure of himself without being arrogant, and quick to smile. \"I'm happy for you guys. I hope you have a great fake relationship.\"\n\nCalloway didn't stay long, citing the need to go back and prep his band for the incoming press. Rayne went with him, flashing one last smile back at The Chokecherries before he and Calloway disappeared into the festival, their arms around each other with the same casual intimacy Rayne showed everyone in his chosen group.\n\nKris sat on the edge of the stage and watched them go. The rest of the band dispersed, flitting out between the tents to see different attractions, and Kris leaned back as the clouds drifted through the bright-blue sky. Angel joined him a moment later, dropping down at his side and mirroring his position.\n\n\"Hey, you,\" she said. \"What do you think?\"\n\n\"The press will love it.\"\n\n\"Sure, but what do you think?\" She punctuated the you with a poke to his shoulder.\n\n\"I think the same thing I thought when I told Rayne it was a good idea. And Cal seems like a decent guy. They could pull it off.\"\n\n\"Hm.\"\n\nHe turned to face her. \"What, hm?\"\n\n\"Level with me a minute. All the kissing you two do onstage, and all the hand-holding and cuddling up you do off it, you really don't have a thing for him?\"\n\nKris froze, and in that split second of hesitation he knew he'd waited too long. Angel's expression softened. \"No,\" he said weakly. \"No, it's not . . . We're not like that.\"\n\n\"Kris, honey. I love you, but lying's not your forte.\"\n\n\"It's just a crush. It doesn't mean anything.\" He bit his tongue, hoping his lie didn't sound as blatant as it felt. \"And now that Calloway's here and they're doing this whole thing, I'll get over it.\"\n\n\"You really don't want to tell him?\"\n\n\"I don't want to fuck up and make things awkward. Brian's still got me on a trial run, and I don't want to do anything that could get me kicked out of the band.\" He reached over and squeezed her fingers. \"Honestly. It's just a crush because we're around each other all the time, and he's a great kisser. And he's . . . Rayne. But it's fine. I'm not in love with him, and he's definitely not in love with me. I've got this totally under control.\"\n\n\"Why don't you want him to know you're not straight?\" she asked bluntly. \"You said you weren't ready, and I respect that, but I can see you pining for him. I could see you pining from the moon.\"\n\n\"I'm going to tell him,\" Kris promised. \"But I don't want to complicate things, especially not while he's doing this with Cal. As soon as their stunt's over, we'll talk. And I'm not pining.\"\n\nShe didn't look like she believed him, but he steeled himself and nodded like it was the absolute truth. She finally sighed and patted his knee.\n\n\"Okay, hun. Whatever you say.\"\n\nKris took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. Angel would keep his secret. As far as she was concerned, it was just a crush and it was under control.\n\nNothing could be farther from the truth.\n\nControl was only ever an illusion. Kris knew that, on some deep level, but superficially he still had hope. He lost the last of it\u2014hope and control both\u2014after Angel brought out her costume trunk.\n\nIt wasn't her fault\u2014 Kris didn't want to blame her for anything that happened. She was simply the catalyst that sent everything else whirring into motion like a terrifyingly unstoppable doomsday device. It started with a pair of gold lam\u00e9 booty shorts.\n\n\"We're doing a Rocky Horror tribute,\" Billie said.\n\n\"I have costumes,\" Angel added.\n\n\"Okay,\" Kris said. \"Rocky Horror. Why not.\"\n\n\"I'm Frankie, obviously,\" Rayne said. \"Stef dibs'd Riff Raff, as if anyone else would want him. Maki's Columbia, Billie's Meatloaf\u2014Eddie\u2014and everyone else is a Transylvanian. We're throwing everybody in corsets and glitter.\"\n\n\"What about me?\" Kris asked, feeling the answer in his gut already.\n\n\"You're Rocky, of course,\" Angel said with a wink. \"Not much of a bodybuilder, but I never did like a man with too many muscles.\"\n\n\"I would've thought I was more of a Janet,\" Kris said, \"but hey, whatever floats your boat.\"\n\nAngel pressed the shorts into his hand, and Kris had to turn them over three times to figure out what he was holding. They seemed a lot smaller in person than he remembered from the movie, and he remembered them being tiny. \"Where's the rest of them?\"\n\n\"Oh hun,\" Angel said. \"The rest of it's all you.\"\n\nThe important thing Kris needed to remember about Purple Sage was that it wasn't part of the real world. It might seem like it was, being in the middle of a desert that could be found on any map, and the tickets were paid for with very real money, but the festival itself\u2014the part where the music happened\u2014that was somewhere else entirely. That part was just left of reality, where the laws of nature and common sense and outside society didn't apply. That was the reason Kris didn't question the Rocky Horror getups, or the way Angel carried a veritable cornucopia of recreational drugs, or his own tumultuous, headfirst tumble into heart-throbbing infatuation with Rayne, which he could no longer deny, though he was trying. Questioning was for the real world, as were consequences. He put the shorts on.\n\n\"I think I need a bit more to wear,\" he said, examining his reflection in the mirror in the private dressing-room-trailer he and Rayne had appropriated.\n\nHe didn't mind his body. Sure, he was skinny, with no real muscle definition, and maybe his limbs were a little too coltish to belong on a man of twenty-five, but there was nothing offensive about it. It left his gender ambiguous, almost, at the right angle and in the right light. He'd never really appreciated that before the tour. Less ambiguous in nothing but shorts that barely covered the tops of his thighs, but that was probably the point.\n\n\"Can I get one of those corsets too?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Rayne said absently. \"You have to feel comfortable performing.\"\n\nKris turned from the mirror to find Rayne rolling his fishnets up with agonizing care, sitting on one chair with his foot propped up on another. His corset was unlaced, hanging around his middle with no thought for modesty, and he was barely covered by a pair of black shorts under his garter belt.\n\nKris swallowed.\n\n\"I don't recommend wearing stockings, whatever else you're thinking,\" Rayne said. \"This isn't the first time I've worn them, but I hope it's the fucking last. And fishnets aren't even that bad compared to hose.\" He reached his thigh and clipped the first garter in place, shaking his hair from his face to glance up at Kris. \"Don't do it,\" he repeated, but he was smiling.\n\n\"Noted,\" Kris said, his mouth dry. He coughed. \"No stockings. I need something, though. I can't go out there like this.\"\n\n\"It's good, though. You sure you need to cover all that up?\"\n\n\"When I'm wearing my guitar I'm going to look naked,\" Kris pointed out. \"I'll look like a slapstick sketch. You have to give me more to work with here.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine. Crush all my dreams at once.\" Rayne rooted through a bag of feather boas, gloves, and costume jewelry to pull a corset from its depths. Like the shorts, it was gold. Unlike the shorts, it covered more than a few square inches of skin.\n\n\"Awesome,\" Kris said, holding it up against his torso as he returned to the mirror. All the gold brought the browns in his eyes to life and made his hair seem even paler. Once Angel did his makeup, he would look like nothing he'd ever seen before. Not even his first time in makeup could compare to this, with so many glittering sequins and so much bare skin.\n\nHe'd never worn a corset before. Or, unlike Rayne, any kind of hosiery\u2014or high heels, or\u2014\n\nThe list was endless. There were so many things he had never worn or done or thought about before The Chokecherries, and now he wanted to try all of them at once. He glanced at Rayne in the reflection; he was busy fastening a rope of pearls around his throat.\n\n\"Hey, rock star, you want to help me into this?\" Kris asked.\n\nRayne looked up, his expression inscrutable in the tarnished mirror.\n\nKris hefted the corset. \"I can't reach the laces by myself, unless you want me to wear it backwards.\"\n\n\"No, I can help you do it the right way around.\" Rayne stood slowly. His legs were so long out of his usual jeans. He padded quiet as a panther over to Kris and stopped just behind him, not quite touching, but near enough for Kris to feel his heat. \"Here, hold it around you like this.\"\n\nKris obeyed, offering the edges to Rayne without taking his eyes from their reflections. The mirror was an old one, its surface going silvery and dim, but looking at it, secreted away in the tiny trailer that was all half-lights and dark corners, Kris felt hidden from the rest of the universe, like there was no one in the entire world but him and Rayne. Within this room, no one else existed: not the fans, not the band, not Calloway or the press. It was a dangerous, intoxicating feeling that curled around his ribs as surely as the corset did, and settled in his heart like a bad idea.\n\nIt would be so easy to kiss Rayne here, where no one else could see them.\n\nHe couldn't do it.\n\n\"How tight do you want me to go?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"Tight enough to look good.\"\n\n\"Such an exhibitionist.\"\n\n\"Always,\" Kris said.\n\nHe sank his teeth into his lip at the first bite of the laces; Rayne gave no quarter as he worked his way up, but Kris liked the pressure. It was firm in the way the best hugs are firm, and if it left him a little breathless, that only added to the experience. He watched his body reshape in front of him as the corset forced his waist in, giving the illusion of hips\u2014not much of one, as he had always been flat as a plank in all directions, but enough to stop and take notice.\n\n\"Okay?\" Rayne checked in.\n\nKris pressed his hand against his belly and felt nothing but firm, unyielding fabric. His stomach fluttered and he smoothed his hand down. \"Perfect.\"\n\nRayne tied the laces off and then stopped to admire his work. His eyes were dark in the mirror, and Kris held his breath as he awaited Rayne's verdict. The fans would be delighted, but it was only Rayne he wanted to impress. That was easier to admit when it was just the two of them, even if he couldn't say it aloud.\n\n\"You look good enough to eat,\" Rayne said, his voice a pitch too low to be teasing.\n\n\"Yeah?\" Kris caught Rayne's gaze and held it, his heart beating fast as a hummingbird. \"What you going to do about it?\"\n\nRayne's grip tightened on Kris's shoulder for a second, his fingers digging into his bare skin as surely as the corset laces dug into his back, and then he let go and stepped away, shaking his head with a rueful smile.\n\n\"Let's get you into Angel's chair and try not to break any hearts on the way.\"\n\nKris let Rayne guide him from the trailer, infinitely disappointed in his own lack of courage for not pushing further.\n\nThings only got worse once the makeup was on.\n\nPassionfruit and The Chokecherries crammed into the space backstage, all of them centered around Angel and her makeshift makeup station like she was a queen holding court. Passionfruit did their own makeup, for the most part, though Billie and Angel were collaborating more often as Billie's tastes grew increasingly outlandish. Jay stayed punk and gleefully mocked him, which Billie ignored, and this instance was no exception. Cassie flitted around between the two bands, exploring Angel's makeup collection, unable to hold still, until Angel promised to do her up in turn, if she would just keep her hands to herself for five minutes. Cass compromised by sitting on Stef's lap. Stef, busy applying dark shadows under their eyes, didn't seem to mind.\n\nRayne's makeup was heavier than usual for his Frank-N-Furter look\u2014Angel dusted him with black and purple from his lashes to his brows, painting his eyes with kohl and his lips with a wine-dark red that made his mouth obscenely shiny and wet. Kris, she coated in the gold Maki favored, so his eyelids glittered and caught the light with every blink. She gave him his usual red lipstick, and then painted his nails black, the same black Rayne most often wore.\n\n\"Now sit tight and let that dry,\" she instructed, moving on to Maki's Columbia makeup next. \"If you smear it, I'm putting you in time-out.\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am.\" Kris placed his hands palm-down over his knees and tried not to fidget.\n\nCassie, though making good on her promise to sit still, lacked any incentive to keep quiet. \"So, Angel, are you a professional makeup artist? How'd you meet Rayne?\"\n\n\"It wasn't long after I opened my club, and he was just starting the band,\" Angel said.\n\n\"We didn't have a record deal yet\u2014we didn't even have Brian yet\u2014but I was determined to play every club and dive bar in the country that would have me,\" Rayne continued. \"So I piled everybody into a van and we headed out, usually booking one or two shows ahead as we drove.\"\n\n\"It was insane,\" Stef said.\n\n\"We all nearly quit at one point or another,\" Maki added. \"Our original drummer did. We met Lenny en route.\"\n\nLenny tipped an imaginary hat.\n\n\"So we rolled into New Orleans with no real plan, but I'd heard rumors of this new club that sounded queer-friendly, and\u2014\" Rayne shrugged expansively \"\u2014the rest is history.\"\n\n\"Just like that?\" Cassie asked.\n\n\"Just like that,\" Angel agreed. \"I didn't start touring with Rayne until after he got his record deal, but we kept in touch the whole time. I visited him in LA a few times and nabbed myself a studio space in his house.\"\n\n\"Not New York?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"New York's my second home,\" Rayne said. \"My LA place is bigger; it came first. As soon as I had enough pull with the label, I got Angel signed as our official fashion director. Now we don't do anything without her.\"\n\nAngel shrugged. \"I can't complain.\"\n\n\"I can't believe I didn't think to steal you first,\" Billie groused.\n\n\"To be fair, honey, Passionfruit was pretty grungy when you started,\" she said. \"I love you, but I wouldn't have had much to work with.\"\n\nBillie coaxed his hair into a giant bouffant. \"How about now?\"\n\n\"Baby steps,\" Angel said.\n\n\"Why burlesque?\" Cassie asked. Stef finished their makeup and slung their arms around Cassie's waist, holding her in place.\n\n\"I started with drag shows back in art school,\" Angel replied, taking over the design of Billie's hair, \"but I wanted something more . . . sexual. I liked the camp, but it felt like I was wearing my own skin and pretending it was a costume. Burlesque seemed like the next natural step.\"\n\n\"More sexual,\" Kris repeated.\n\nShe shrugged. \"It's fun. And it's safe, playing onstage like that. There's no room for misunderstandings when you're on a stage and everyone else is paying to watch.\"\n\n\"I get that. I'd never have tried this if it weren't for the stage.\" He drummed his fingers across his knees, waiting for the polish to dry. \"I don't think I'd actually strip, though.\"\n\n\"It's not for everyone,\" Angel agreed. \"Billie would never do it. He's body-shy.\"\n\nBillie rolled his eyes but didn't stop her from fixing his hair.\n\n\"I found it really helped with my body image, personally,\" she continued. \"And now that I have the body I want, I like showing it off. I worked too hard on it for it to go unappreciated.\"\n\n\"And unpaid for?\" Kris guessed.\n\n\"It's worth every penny. You said no to a dance last time; what about now?\" She laughed at the expression on his face. \"No? What about from your man Rayne? He can dance, you know.\"\n\n\"I can,\" Rayne assured them, though he threw Angel a look Kris couldn't interpret. \"I'm a great dancer.\"\n\n\"Can you strip?\" Cassie asked.\n\n\"Can't you go back to being all shy and flustered around him?\" Kris asked. \"He's supposed to be your idol.\"\n\n\"Nah, I'm over it. Can you, though?\"\n\n\"Not wearing a corset,\" Rayne said, but when he met Kris's gaze he was positively predatory. Whatever bait Angel had thrown him, he'd taken it. \"But I can do other stuff.\"\n\nJay whooped and finished drawing on the last of his eyeliner. \"Give Kris a dance and I'll give Billie one.\" Kris couldn't tell whether it was a dare or a threat. Either way, with his nails still wet, he couldn't defend himself.\n\nRayne stood in a long, languid motion. \"How about it, Kris?\" He rested one boot on the edge of Kris's chair, in between his thighs. \"Say no.\"\n\nKris should say no for the sake of his sanity, but Rayne looked delicious made up like that, and Kris was only human. He raised his hands in the universal symbol of surrender\u2014ostensibly to keep his nails from smearing, but mostly to keep himself from trying to touch. \"Go ahead. See who gets more embarrassed.\"\n\nRayne laughed.\n\n\"Bad move, honey,\" Angel said.\n\n\"You know me better than that, Kris,\" Rayne said. \"I don't even know what shame is.\"\n\nRayne could move: he had the coordination, the rhythm, and the sex appeal to do it. He danced onstage, or in clubs, or on the bus; something as simple as rocking his hips to the beat had driven Kris to distraction more than once. Kris had just never seen it from so close an angle before.\n\nRayne returned both feet to the floor and shimmied up, his stance wide, until he stood over Kris's lap, and rested his arms across Kris's shoulders, bending at the waist to reach. He moved slowly, either teasing or giving Kris time to back out, Kris didn't know. He didn't care. His breath hitched in his chest and he blushed, hard. Swallowing, he tried to brush it off and look nonchalant.\n\nIt didn't work. His face was burning up; he could feel the fever-bright heat on his cheeks and in his eyes, and the way his lips fell open of their own accord as Rayne leaned in, his hair brushing Kris's face, to whisper in his ear.\n\n\"You can still say no,\" he breathed, for no one but Kris.\n\n\"Do it, you giant diva. Show me what you got.\"\n\nRayne laughed again, lower this time, and tossed his hair back. \"Keep your hands up, baby. No touching.\"\n\nJay whistled. \"Look at him, all professional. Does it cost extra to touch?\"\n\n\"Kris isn't touching anything,\" Angel said. \"He tries it, I'll skin him. I'm not redoing his nails before the show.\"\n\n\"No touching,\" Kris promised, not taking his gaze from Rayne.\n\nRayne's tattoos showed above the line of the corset, the matching birds dark against his skin. The corset was barely high enough to cover his nipples, and if he shifted in just the right way, they peeked above the border, dusky brown and getting hard from the friction. Rayne either didn't notice or didn't mind as he started to move, striking up a rhythm as serpentine as the tattoo that wound around his arm. Kris still hadn't touched it. The wrapping was off, but after only a week it had to still be tender. Rayne looked like a walking, breathing piece of art, and Kris wanted to fall to his knees in worship, one way or another. He bit his tongue and kept his hands away.\n\nLike when they kissed onstage, Kris was aware of the cacophony of shouts and appreciative jeers around them. Like onstage, he tuned them out and drank Rayne in like it was only the two of them in the whole world. But their stage antics never got close to this kind of concentrated attention. While Kris knew Rayne was playing up the sex appeal for the others, it was still so much closer, so much hotter, so much more of everything that he felt it in every single atom of his being. It had never been like this offstage before, like Rayne was trying to turn Kris on for real\u2014and it was working.\n\nRayne danced like his body was made for it. He kept his arms wound around Kris's neck, twisting his body down toward Kris's lap but always stopping just shy of contact, his hips working in a mesmerizing pattern that left Kris's mouth dry and his blood flooding south.\n\nKris wanted to unlace Rayne's corset hole by hole and watch the muscles shift under his skin as Rayne moved; he wanted to put his hands on him and feel them to be sure this was real. He wanted Rayne to sit down in his lap, and he wanted to push his hands through Rayne's hair and drag him down until their lips met, makeup be damned, and kiss him until Rayne was as breathless and shaky as he always left Kris.\n\nRayne was supposed to be doing this with Calloway, not Kris, but there were no paparazzi backstage. No one else had to know.\n\nWhether it was the dream, the dance, or just the inevitable deepening of friendship to love, something in Kris flipped. Rayne made him want to fling himself into a jungle of unmapped sexuality, and to hell with ever finding his way out again. Kris wanted to taste him and touch him and be touched by him, and with every passing second the thought of announcing his sexuality to the world seemed less intimidating and more exciting. His nerves gave way to curiosity, which gave way to want that squirmed in his belly, taking up residence with his flock of butterflies, which fluttered wildly every time Rayne moved.\n\nKris didn't touch him. Not even when Rayne pressed his lips to Kris's cheek in a lingering kiss clearly designed to leave a dark-red mark against his skin, nor when Rayne straightened and stepped back as the bands cheered and wolf-whistled. Completely wrecked and so turned on he was light-headed, Kris returned his hands to his knees and tried to pull himself together.\n\nAngel fanned herself with a flyer, affecting a wide-eyed, overwhelmed expression. \"Damn, boy. You ever want out of music, come back to the White Rabbit with me.\"\n\n\"I think I got him a little worked up,\" Rayne said in fake apology.\n\nKris groaned and covered his face with the crook of his arm, careful not to smudge anything. His heart was beating in triple time and all he could think of was Calloway, fucking Calloway\u2014he wasn't serving as the deterrent Kris needed him to be. If they were dating for real, Kris would never interfere, but it was fake, and his whole body was burning for Rayne.\n\n\"You better take care of that before we hit the stage,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"No touching,\" Angel said, though she couldn't keep a straight face this time. \"Sorry, Kris.\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" Rayne decided. \"It's a compliment. I'm flattered.\"\n\n\"Cassie, I know you filmed that whole thing,\" Kris said, not removing his arm from his face. \"For the love of god, don't show our parents. Don't show anyone, ever.\"\n\n\"I'm conflicted,\" Cassie admitted, still comfortably settled on Stef's lap. \"On the one hand, you're my brother, and there's no way anything you're involved with can be hot. On the other hand\u2014oh my god, Rayne. Oh my god.\"\n\nRayne nudged at Kris until he dropped his arm to glare at him. Rayne grinned, mercifully not looking at Kris's shorts.\n\n\"I don't know what you were trying to prove,\" Kris said. \"I can't remember. But you did it: Congratulations. You proved the thing. I hate you.\"\n\n\"No, you don't,\" Rayne said fondly. \"Come on, Rocky. Up you get. If you play a good show, you might even get a repeat performance sometime.\"\n\nThere seemed to be something wistful in his tone, lingering just below the surface and unnoticeable unless you were specifically listening for it. A second later Kris thought he must have imagined it, because Rayne had him by the wrist and was pulling him to his feet, laughing with the others. Kris accepted his help in getting up, but was privately sure that a repeat performance would actually kill him, especially if he still couldn't touch. He needed to tell Rayne how he felt; it didn't matter if it was unrequited. Not telling was going to be the actual literal death of him if Rayne kept up like this.\n\nCalloway dropped by before the show, talking animatedly about how the press was already paying ten times more attention to Dead Generation on the basis of a few rumors about Rayne wearing their shirt. Rayne got caught up in his high spirits with admirable ease, and rather than watch the two of them play boyfriends, Kris joined Angel on her quest to the food trucks in search of an apple pretzel.\n\n\"Not that I don't appreciate the company,\" she said, \"but you seem like you're avoiding something.\"\n\n\"Nope,\" Kris said determinedly. \"I'm just giving them space to do their thing, because I'm a supportive friend.\"\n\n\"Uh-huh.\"\n\n\"And I'm trying to get used to moving around in this thing.\" It was weird to walk in the corset; it pulled his spine so straight he felt like a toy soldier, though he looked like anything but. The sequins caught the sun and flashed it around with every step, and his limbs seemed much paler and skinnier than he remembered them being. \"And I like hanging out with you.\" He nudged her with his elbow. \"If you want me to get lost, you can say so.\"\n\n\"No, you can stay. Honestly, I'm glad you're here. I'm not used to wearing so much glitter in public, and having this many eyes on me outside of the club makes me nervous.\"\n\n\"I'm probably not helping you blend in though, am I?\"\n\n\"Not especially, no.\"\n\nAngel's afro always ensured that she would stand out in a crowd, but with the added sequins and sparkles, Kris didn't doubt that every eye in the festival was on her. She might feel self-conscious, but she looked stunning. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, and she shot him a grateful smile.\n\nAs soon as they set foot in the picnic area, a wolf whistle pealed out. Kris cast around for the source, but Angel just squared her shoulders and marched on, making a beeline for the pretzel wagon. Kris hovered by her side as she made her purchase, but the moment they turned to head back to the stage, they collided with a very tall, very wide man dressed in dusty leather, who sent them stumbling back a pace.\n\n\"Watch where you're going,\" the man grunted.\n\n\"You the one who cat-called me?\" Angel asked. The man's lip curled and Angel rolled her eyes. \"Fuck off.\"\n\nShe went to step around him. Kris stayed glued to her side, though he had no idea what he'd do if he had to intervene, but the man blocked their way. An expression of dumb belligerence sat on his face. \"You don't talk to me like that.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I do. Now move, or I'll get you thrown out,\" Angel said. Kris tried to look intimidating, though he barely came up to the man's chest, and was dressed only in a corset, his sneakers, and a pair of uncomfortably formfitting shorts.\n\nWhatever the man was about to say next\u2014and it was doubtlessly going to be asinine\u2014was interrupted by his friends. One of them gave a sharp whistle and the big one's gaze snapped over.\n\n\"Boar! Leave that. Come on back,\" the other man ordered.\n\n\"Yeah, go on, dog,\" Angel said.\n\nBoar glared and stepped forward\u2014Kris and Angel both darted away\u2014when a second one at the table shouted, \"She disrespects us!\" and vaulted the picnic bench, hurtling toward them like a burly red missile.\n\nAngel smashed her pretzel into Boar's face, its apple filling still hot from the oven, grabbed Kris by the wrist, and booked it. Shouts followed them, from all four of the men now, but Kris didn't dare look back. They lost them after a few turns, the tents too closely packed for a longer chase. Once they were sure the men were gone, Kris and Angel slowed their pace to a halt.\n\n\"Fuck,\" Angel breathed, and finally dropped Kris's arm.\n\n\"Fuck,\" Kris agreed. \"And you lost your pretzel too.\"\n\n\"Forget the pretzel\u2014those were the same guys I saw earlier, the ones Calloway said were a cult.\"\n\nKris craned his neck to glance back the way they'd come, but there was no sign of the men. \"No shit. That was the cult? Cal said they weren't bad guys!\"\n\n\"Maybe Cal didn't know them so well.\"\n\nThey adjusted their course for The Chokecherries' stage, slower now that they weren't being pursued. Kris took the time to catch his breath as the adrenaline faded, his heart thumping back to a normal pace.\n\nPassionfruit was just starting to set up when they arrived, Billie running through a mike check as festival goers milled around, drawn by the movement onstage. Kris relaxed, confident they weren't going to get jumped by a cult of skinheads in broad daylight with so many witnesses around. Tom the priest-to-be was there too, and waved when he saw them, bright and blond in the sun. Kris waved back and tried on a smile, but stilled as the youngest of the cultists appeared by the far side of the stage, making his way toward them. Onstage, Billie paused to watch, and Tom hesitated in his approach.\n\n\"Hey,\" said the cultist. He was tall and lanky and impossibly pale, no older than Kris, and didn't seem like he'd eaten a decent meal anytime in the past year. Kris looked to Angel for direction, and Angel crossed her arms and leveled a stoic glare at the interloper.\n\n\"Sorry about your pretzel,\" the kid said. \"And, um, about Boar. And Red. They get riled easily when they're on the booze, and they forget their manners.\"\n\n\"What do you want?\" Angel asked.\n\n\"I brought you a replacement?\" He held out a little package, butter seeping through the paper. \"To make up for it, if you want.\"\n\nOnstage, Billie cleared his throat conspicuously, and Kris glanced up. The singer appeared ready to jump down and fight the kid if he made one wrong move toward Angel, though Kris doubted that even if he and Billie teamed up they'd be much good in an altercation.\n\n\"What's your name?\" Angel asked.\n\nThe kid broke into a smile that lit up his eyes. They were big and pale and silvery, but they didn't seem malicious. He felt Angel relax fractionally beside him. \"I'm Rikki. Do you want it?\"\n\nAngel accepted the replacement pretzel carefully, like it might blow up in her hand. \"I'm Angel. This is Kris. Your friends are assholes, you know that?\"\n\nHis smile slipped but he nodded. \"Yeah. Sorry. I should get back before they miss me.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the pretzel, Rikki.\"\n\nHis smile bounced back into place before he loped off to find his cult. The pretzel dripped butter over Angel's fingers as she and Kris watched him go.\n\n\"You're aware that guy is in a cult, right?\" Billie said from the stage.\n\nTom, perhaps sensing that not all was well, ducked back into the crowd with a little nod of goodbye and a promise to come back later to see the show. Angel tore a chunk off the pretzel with her teeth.\n\n\"So, cults, huh?\" Kris said. \"When everybody was telling me how weird festivals could get, nobody mentioned the bit about cults.\"\n\n\"We should probably tell Rayne and Cal about this,\" Angel said, heaving a sigh and casting her gaze heavenward.\n\n\"And Brian?\" Kris asked.\n\nThey glanced at each other, wincing in unison. Angel shook her head. Maybe not Brian, at least not yet.\n\nKris didn't get the chance to talk to Rayne or Calloway before the show. While Passionfruit played their set, the two of them were busy flirting with the paparazzi and each other, wrapped up to the extent that Kris was reluctant to interrupt. They really did make a good-looking couple: their arms slung around each other's shoulders, sharing earbuds as they leaned in close to whisper and laugh together, seemingly oblivious to the outside world. Of course it was all an act\u2014Kris saw the way Rayne kept the flashing cameras in his peripherals at all times, making sure he and Cal were angled so the paparazzi saw exactly what he wanted them to see, nothing more or less.\n\nHe could always tell them about the cult after the show, though he was no longer sure he had anything to tell. Neither he nor Angel had caught the cult doing anything particularly dangerous; they were just assholes, and that wasn't cause for a group meeting. Lots of people were assholes, especially when you were wearing a corset, a lot of body glitter, and not much else.\n\nInstead, Kris took the time before the Rocky Horror show to think things over. Passionfruit had taken the stage almost immediately after Kris and Angel got back, leaving Kris a very small window to gather his thoughts. He pushed the cult aside temporarily and returned to the issue of coming out to Rayne, sexuality and feelings both. It was love, he could finally admit: full-fledged, cavity-inducing, spine-tingling love. It was hard to think backstage with Passionfruit playing a few feet away, even more raucous and impulsive than usual, as Billie belted out a Meatloaf tune to the roar of the crowd. Kris's corset didn't help either; he was hyperconscious of it, and the constant pressure made his stomach flip in the most distracting way, like the butterflies in there were planning a revolt. Yet despite the butterflies, the corset, and Passionfruit's aggressive brand of music-making, Kris couldn't stop thinking about the curve of Rayne's mouth, half hidden in the shadows of his mane of messy hair, as he slowly danced over Kris's lap.\n\nRayne, apparently oblivious to Kris's turmoil, wasn't helping. His flair for the dramatic combined with the energy implicit in a Rocky Horror tribute show left Kris feeling delightfully debauched. He was grateful for being able to hide behind his guitar, because his shorts hid nothing, and Rayne knew it. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in winding Kris up\u2014he spent the show draping himself over Kris, rubbing up against him, curling his fingers through Kris's hair or around his throat. Kris didn't fight a second of it\u2014but they didn't kiss. They touched, and teased, and Kris leaned in when Rayne came up behind him and wrapped one arm around his chest, tugging him close to sing in Kris's ear, but their lips never met, and this time, Kris didn't push it. People needed to believe Rayne and Calloway were a thing, and Kris wasn't going to interfere with that, no matter how he felt. But he wasn't the only one getting excited.\n\nThe crowd kept yelling for more, hurling themselves against the barricade, singing along until their voices were wrecked, hands in the air, jumping in time. Calloway was up near the front, his ginger hair burnt gold in the stage lights, arms thrown up over his head as he sang along with Rayne. The cult was there too, all pale tattooed skin and black leather off to the side. They could have passed for punks, but there was something separate about them\u2014they didn't throw themselves into the music like the rest of the crowd. Even among the misfits who made up a music festival, they didn't look like they belonged. Tom didn't look like he belonged either, but from what Kris could see from the stage, he seemed to be enjoying himself.\n\nThe band played their set and Kris stayed at Rayne's side the whole time. He'd thought the corset would get more comfortable the longer he wore it, but it never loosened and he couldn't stop thinking about how the laces dug into his skin and squeezed him into a new shape. Rayne's wasn't as tight as his\u2014he needed the room to sing.\n\nAs they reached the end of their set, their lipstick messed beyond hope, Stef started up the bass line to \"Sweet Transvestite.\" The crowd dropped to silence for a single second and then surged back louder and shriller than before. Rayne caught Kris's eye across the stage and grinned, fluffed up his feather boa, and strutted to the mike.\n\nHe'd said he couldn't strip in a corset, but he managed fine. He had laced his backwards, the ties all up the front, to make for easier removal. The boa went first\u2014he leaned over the edge of the stage and wrapped it around Calloway's neck like a gift, dropping a fleeting kiss on Cal's lips before retreating\u2014and then the laces, one hole at a time. Kris didn't pretend to look anywhere else but at him. His heart skipped a beat and lodged in his throat, trembling in anticipation as the corset dropped. The crowd screamed, and Rayne winked and hit the chorus. When he next stalked over to Kris, one hand coming up to trace the lines of Kris's corset, Kris dropped his gaze to his guitar and closed his eyes, dry-mouthed and desperate for the attention. Rayne was more skin than clothes, sleek and fit, his muscles smooth and lithe and barely showing. He seemed to glow under the stage lights, his tattoos coming to life as he moved, and Kris still couldn't touch him. Kris played until his fingers ached, but that hurt less than having all that in front of him, unable to reach out and feel it.\n\nHe couldn't even tell if Rayne was doing it on purpose. What Rayne knew, or suspected, or thought he knew about Kris's feelings, Kris had no idea\u2014other than that he was embarrassingly easy to turn on, but everyone knew that, now. That had been very publicly proven. It didn't mean Rayne guessed anything. He was just messing around, high on the adrenaline from the show, and since Calloway wasn't onstage\u2014\n\nKris wished they'd never agreed to Brian's suggestion of cutting the midshow make-outs. Rayne still lavished him with attention, but it was Cal he was kissing, not Kris, and it was killing him. He'd never been prone to jealousy before, but this was enough to tie him up in knots.\n\nThe song ended and Rayne returned to center stage to say their goodbyes, when a scuffle broke out beyond the barricade. Kris couldn't see what happened, but a girl shouted, and Rikki the cultist punched one of his fellows, and then all hell broke loose. Security swarmed over to tear them apart as Rayne turned back to the stage, frowning, and reached for the mike.\n\n\"There's no fighting at a Chokecherries' concert,\" he said sternly, his voice reverberating without the music to back him. \"We're here for peace and love, guys. Get your shit together.\"\n\n\"He tried to grab me!\" a girl yelled from the front.\n\nRayne's frown deepened. \"Okay, PSA time, kids. Now, I know my fans are better than that. You'd never grab anybody without permission. So listen\u2014you see somebody doing that? Touching, grabbing, trying to throw somebody into the pit who doesn't want to be there? You punch them in the face.\"\n\n\"Peace and love,\" Kris muttered from the side.\n\n\"Peace and love take a back seat when people are getting harassed. We're all here to have a good time, right? So look out for each other.\"\n\nSecurity finally succeeded in hauling the cultists off one another. Rikki glowered at his cohorts, who spat at him. They finally separated, security letting them off with a warning, and skulked away into the twilight. Kris saw Calloway disappear into the crowd, away from the site of the brawl.\n\n\"Look out for each other, be kind, and take no shit. We'll see you tomorrow afternoon. Go forth with love!\"\n\nHow he could deliver a halfway rousing speech dressed only in fishnets, boots, shorts, and a garter belt, Kris had no idea, but Rayne managed it. They traipsed backstage, trailing costume parts in a parade of glitter and sequins.\n\n\"I heard something going down, but I couldn't see from side stage,\" Angel said as she helped Kris unlace his corset. Rayne had disappeared to find Calloway right after the show, and Kris tried not to feel abandoned, missing his post-show dog pile of sweaty hugs and bright smiles. The rest of The Chokecherries were still there, but it wasn't the same without Rayne. Angel, probably sensing that, had stepped in to neatly fill the void. \"What happened?\"\n\n\"Cal's cult friends started shit, and Rayne yelled at them. Well, not yelled, but you heard him. Security dragged them out; I didn't see what happened after that.\"\n\nAngel dropped the corset and turned her back as Kris shimmied out of the shorts and pulled his real clothes on.\n\n\"Well, I'll be happy if we don't see them again for the rest of the festival,\" Angel said. \"And I doubt it'll do Cal any good to run into them, either.\"\n\n\"No, well, Rayne's keeping him pretty busy.\" He bit his tongue, aware that had come out more bitterly than he'd meant. \"I'm dressed; you can turn back around,\" he added as he put his guitar away and avoided meeting Angel's eyes.\n\n\"Come on,\" she finally said. \"Let's go get food and distract you from all that pining.\"\n\n\"I'm not pining for anybody,\" Kris retorted as they headed into the sea of tents again. \"I just have to get used to Rayne spending all his time with somebody else. It's no big deal.\"\n\nAngel mm-hmm'd skeptically, but as they turned the corner of a large but empty tent, they stumbled smack into the middle of a fistfight that stopped whatever Angel had been about to say.\n\nIt wasn't a fight so much as a beating: the three older cultists were surrounding Rikki, Boar and Red laying into him with boots and fists as he curled up on the ground, trying to protect his face and underbelly, while a third man stood back a pace, his arms folded as he looked on impassively. It was with him whom they collided when they turned the corner, and they all tripped back as the fight paused.\n\n\"Sorry,\" Kris said automatically, and then frowned. \"Hang on, what the fuck.\"\n\n\"Walk away,\" the man warned.\n\n\"Get off him,\" Angel countered. Rikki curled up tighter, like a hedgehog.\n\n\"Mind your business,\" Red growled, pulling himself up tall to loom toward her.\n\nKris bristled and tensed his hands into fists, knowing full well that Red could crush him like a bug but willing to throw a punch if he had to. But before he got the chance, Angel swung her handbag and hit Red full in the face. The buckles caught his cheek with just enough force to cut, and he staggered back with his hand pressed to his face in shock, like he'd never seen his own blood before.\n\n\"Get lost before I set security on you,\" she said, and hefted her bag up again when they didn't immediately leave.\n\nThey fled.\n\n\"Shit,\" Kris said. \"That was amazing. Do you carry a brick in there in case of emergencies?\"\n\nShe handed him her bag and he peeked inside. It was mostly makeup, and very hefty. Angel toed at Rikki, still on the ground, with her boot. \"Hey, pretzel-boy. You alive?\"\n\nHe uncurled inch by inch, but didn't try to get up. She knelt down and put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch was gentle, but he flinched away all the same. Kris held Angel's bag in both hands and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.\n\n\"You want me to call the paramedics?\" he asked.\n\n\"No,\" Rikki said, finally lifting his face. \"I'm okay. I can't afford the hospital.\"\n\n\"No broken bones?\" Angel asked. \"Internal bleeding?\"\n\n\"I don't think so.\"\n\nAngel kept her hand on him as he righted himself, pushing up on his elbows and checking himself for injuries as he went. His nose was bleeding, his lip split, and at least one eye was going to go black, but he was all in one piece, even if that piece looked the worse for wear.\n\n\"You got somewhere safe to stay?\" Angel asked. \"Somewhere away from them?\"\n\nRikki sat, pulling his knees to his chest. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears and he seemed impossibly young. He shook his head. \"We're family,\" he explained. \"We came to the festival together. They said they were going to trash my bike.\"\n\n\"How come they turned on you?\" Kris didn't trust the other cultists as far as he could throw them, but it was hard to look at Rikki and see any kind of threat.\n\n\"Boar took offense when I called him out for getting handsy with that girl,\" Rikki said, eyes downcast. \"Leif told him off, but he still said I was causing more trouble than I was worth today.\"\n\n\"Listen,\" Angel said. \"I don't want to leave you by yourself out here. You might have a concussion, or those guys might come back for another round. You sure we can't call the paramedics?\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\" Rikki repeated. \"I've been kicked around enough to know when to worry.\" He offered a wan smile, ruined by the blood in his teeth. \"I've done some kicking of my own before, anyway. Not like I don't deserve it.\"\n\nKris glanced at Angel. Her gaze was fixed on Rikki, who hunched his shoulders against her scrutiny.\n\n\"Right,\" she said decisively. \"Up you get. Come back to the bus. Let me keep an eye on you through the night to make sure your brain's not going to fall out.\"\n\n\"Can I do anything?\" Kris asked her in an undertone. \"Should I tell somebody?\"\n\nShe hesitated. \"Hang out with us for a minute, just to make sure there's no trouble.\"\n\nHe nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket, ready to call for help if things went south. Rikki let Angel help him to his feet, and he swayed there a second before steadying himself against her. He was taller than Kris by almost a head, but he was all gangly limbs and coltish proportions, no matter how the leather jacket tried to bulk him up. They set off at a careful pace and he went along meekly, letting Angel keep her hand on his arm. Kris suspected it was the first time in a long time he'd been touched gently by anyone.\n\nWhen they got to the buses Rikki shuffled obligingly onto the bus couch, and stayed quiet while Angel checked his pupils.\n\n\"You're probably right about being fine,\" she mused as she held his jaw, shining her phone's flashlight into one eye and then the other, \"but I ran into a beating or two back in the day, and I know exactly how much it sucks.\"\n\nKris fetched Rikki a water bottle from the minifridge and perched in the driver's seat while Angel finished her examination. As soon as she proclaimed him unlikely to keel over and die, Kris tugged her aside to whisper, low enough that Rikki couldn't hear, \"You can't just adopt a stray skinhead. Rikki might be okay, but he's still in a cult, and those guys are nuts.\"\n\n\"We couldn't leave him there to get beaten to death,\" she objected. \"And he seems all right. He gave me a pretzel, remember?\"\n\n\"Cult,\" Kris stressed.\n\nThey both glanced down the bus to Rikki, on the couch. Rikki smiled hopefully.\n\n\"You said you guys were a family,\" Angel said, at a normal volume. \"You mean related?\"\n\n\"Oh, no. I don't have a real family. A blood family, I mean. I don't think any of us do.\"\n\n\"What do you guys do? You said you have bikes.\"\n\n\"Yeah, we've got our motorcycles. We drive around, we do . . . well, I guess most of it's illegal.\" He rubbed his hand over his head sheepishly. \"Leif\u2014he's our leader\u2014he hustles people at poker. Carjacking too, stuff like that. Just to get enough money to stay afloat and keep the Avatar safe.\"\n\nKris and Angel exchanged looks before coming to a mutual agreement that they didn't want to dig into the avatar part yet.\n\n\"Have you ever been arrested?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"No.\" Rikki blinked up at them with earnest eyes. \"We're protected. We have the favor of the gods.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Angel said slowly. \"Of course you do.\"\n\n\"Cult,\" Kris mouthed to her.\n\n\"You know a guy called Calloway?\" she asked Rikki. \"Redhead, Irish? About your height?\"\n\n\"I know the name,\" he offered. \"The others talk about him sometimes, but I've never met him. I think he used to be in the order before I came.\"\n\nKris resolved to press Calloway for details as soon as he saw him again. \"What do you guys do besides the hustling and carjacking?\"\n\n\"We serve the Avatar. We spread His message and we worship Him as He deserves.\"\n\nKris could actually hear the capital letters, and he did not like the sound of that one bit.\n\n\"Okay,\" Angel said. \"What are we talking about, exactly? Should we be looking out for sacrificial altars? Black magic rituals?\"\n\n\"Oh, nothing like that,\" he said earnestly. \"No, it's all . . . love. Love, and beauty, and unraveling the secrets of the universe. Leif preaches it much better than I do. And we come to places like this to listen to the music, too. Leif knows almost every band here. You're with The Chokecherries, right?\"\n\n\"We are.\"\n\nRikki nodded. \"He's a fan. Anyway, I'm just grateful they took me in.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I can see that. Hang on one sec.\" She flashed him a smile before turning away to tap out a text to Rayne, which Kris read over her shoulder. Apparently Cal's old cult has a god. Also, they're violent. Steer clear of them.\n\nOn the couch, Rikki rested his head against the arm, a bruise already forming around his eye. He didn't look dangerous so much as lost, and if Kris knew anything about The Chokecherries, it was that they weren't good at leaving people to fend for themselves.\n\nRikki stayed on the bus to rest, promising not to wander off or get in trouble, while Kris and Angel returned to the stage. Evening was setting in, the sunset sweeping over the festival grounds in a great pink and gold wash like the desert was on fire, and people were lighting up their glow sticks like fireflies as the music and the dancing continued.\n\n\"You think Rayne and Calloway are meeting the press again tonight?\" Kris asked. \"They got off to a good start, so I guess they'll want to keep pushing it, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, Rayne said he was going out with Cal again this evening,\" Angel said.\n\n\"Cool, cool. Get some pictures, give some interviews . . .\" Kris let the sentence hang. He didn't know where he was going with it, and it was too late to reel it back in now. \"What should we do about the cult?\" he asked instead.\n\n\"We'll tell security to keep an eye out, and try not to run into them again,\" Angel said firmly. \"Come on. Let's go find you a distraction.\"\n\n\"From the cult, or from Calloway?\"\n\nShe grabbed his hand and dragged him backstage with a wink. \"Both.\"\n\nAngel set her purse on the table where she normally did the band's makeup, digging through its many hidden pockets before triumphantly pulling out a packet of semitranslucent, crystalline drugs. Kris had never done anything besides weed or booze, not because he was leaning toward straight edge, but because back home those were the safest options. Everything else was liable to be cut with so much crap that it would as soon kill you as get you high, and Kris had never been curious enough to take the risk.\n\nAngel guaranteed that she had good drugs.\n\n\"I get my weed from a friend in LA who runs a dispensary, and I get everything else from another friend in Louisiana,\" she explained, holding the packet up between her thumb and her forefinger. \"I don't fuck with the hard stuff, but as far as recreational drugs? I know them, I've got them, and I only carry the best.\"\n\nFootsteps sounded from the stage, and she and Kris looked up as Rayne came around the corner.\n\n\"I was just introducing Kris to my stash,\" Angel said by way of greeting. \"You joining us?\"\n\n\"Yes, please.\" Rayne ambled over to sling his arm around Kris's shoulders, leaning into him in a brief hug before straightening again. \"What have we got lined up?\"\n\n\"I know it's not weed, but that's as far as I can guess,\" Kris admitted. \"It's not cocaine, is it? Because I'm not sure I want that.\"\n\n\"Nope, no coke,\" Angel said. \"That's a hard drug and I'm not about it. This is pure MDMA.\" The little plastic bag was full of pearly shards of crystal that sparkled in the light. \"Or as pure as I've ever found, anyway. You want to try?\"\n\nKris wet his lips. \"Should I be worried?\"\n\n\"If you are, you won't be for long. But no pressure, hun.\"\n\nShe eased the crystals from their bag onto the table, and Rayne took first choice, licking his finger and picking up a single shard on the tip. It glittered there for a second like fairy dust before he wrapped it inside a bit of tissue, put it in its mouth, and let it disappear. Angel followed suit.\n\n\"Can you have a bad trip on MDMA?\" Kris asked, unable to tear his gaze from the crystals. \"Like, if it's my first time, will anything like that happen?\"\n\nRayne and Angel glanced at each other.\n\n\"In my experience?\" Angel said. \"You should be pretty chill. Worst-case, you might get panicky wondering how hard it's going to hit, but if you only take a little, you should be coasting on good vibes all night long.\"\n\n\"If you start feeling weird, find security or one of the paramedics,\" Rayne advised. \"They'll take care of you. Or we will.\" He ruffled Kris's hair. \"Whatever you need, we've got you.\"\n\n\"You want, or should I pack it up?\" Angel asked.\n\n\"Hell with it,\" Kris said. \"No, I want to try.\" He dabbed a shard on his fingertip and stared at it for a second. \"You guys will watch out for me, right?\"\n\n\"Course we will,\" Rayne promised. \"Here, wrap it up like this. You don't want to taste that shit.\"\n\n\"Drink lots of water and don't get overheated,\" Angel said. \"It should hit you in about half an hour.\"\n\nKris popped his finger in his mouth and swallowed. \"Half an hour.\"\n\nRayne caught his hand and tugged him toward the door. \"Come on, baby. Let's dance.\"\n\n\"Wait. You and Calloway have to\u2014\"\n\n\"He's meeting us in a bit. I'm not waiting by myself until he shows up. Come dance with me.\"\n\nThey wound up in a tent on the far side of the festival grounds, where electro music blared and neon lights that hung in the air like jellyfish lit the place up as if it were underwater. Kris danced with Rayne at his back, rubbing up against him in teasing brushes, simultaneously reveling in it and shot through with tension, waiting for Calloway to arrive and put a stop to things. Angel danced with anyone who looked at her, her smile flashing white in the darkness.\n\nThe drug hit him at the half-hour mark like it had been on a countdown. Between one breath and the next, the entire universe rushed into him. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the neon lights were brighter, the music sweeter, his body cleaner from the inside out, like every bad thought had been scrubbed away. His heart leaped in his chest from the sheer wonder of it all, and he turned to Rayne for confirmation that it was real. Rayne put his hands on either side of Kris's face and drew him in, and the touch was electrifying: it ran through Kris's whole body, top to bottom, and he shivered with the pleasure of skin against his skin. He couldn't understand why he'd waited so long before saying anything, or why he'd thought burying his feelings was a good idea. He had love in him, and he needed to let it out, into the world where it belonged.\n\n\"This is perfect,\" Kris said, and it was.\n\nHe felt sparkling, like he had never done a bad thing in his life and nothing bad could ever happen again\u2014he was nothing but love, and love surrounded all of them\u2014it was the only thing that mattered in the world. When he looked in Rayne's eyes, he knew Rayne understood it too. He put his hands on Rayne's waist and petted him there, just to feel the fabric under his hands.\n\n\"Dance,\" Rayne told him.\n\nKris turned and danced. He danced like nothing else mattered, and maybe nothing else did\u2014only his sweat and his heartbeat and the feeling of Rayne pressed against his back, his hands drifting over Kris's body, closer than they got onstage. The lights glowed and made patterns in the air; he could see the shape of the music as it pounded from the speakers in a rhythmic thump thump thump that demanded his body move to meet it. He danced until the music filled him up and he breathed in colors and his head flooded with elation, and he had to stagger back from Rayne just to breathe.\n\n\"You okay?\" Rayne asked, following after him.\n\n\"I'm perfect,\" Kris said. \"I'm perfect\u2014I never knew I could feel like this.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\nKris didn't know how to describe how he felt made of love\u2014the same particles that made up the whole universe, but not the universe he had lived in up till now: a different one, a purer one, like it had been at the time of the Big Bang, or even earlier, before anything else got in the way.\n\n\"I love you,\" Kris said instead. It tumbled out of his mouth like he couldn't contain it a second longer, alive and spoken in the same instant it occurred to him. He loved Rayne, completely and absolutely, and now he'd finally said it aloud. He kept talking, too engrossed in cataloging every feeling to panic. \"I know you think this is the drugs talking, but I need you to know\u2014I love you, more than I've ever loved anything. You're everything to me. It's not a crush, or a\u2014 I love you.\"\n\nRayne touched Kris's hair, his cheeks, his mouth. \"I love you too. You're beautiful.\"\n\nKris felt beautiful, and if Rayne said it, it must be true. Rayne breathed beauty; he bled and sang and exuded it with every minute he spent on Earth. He was beauty incarnate. Kris reached out with one trembling hand to rest it on Rayne's shoulder, where the wild roses twined under his shirt. Though Kris couldn't feel them through the fabric, he imagined them pulsing with a life of their own. He imagined laying Rayne down and stripping him bare and tracing every one of his tattoos line by line, until he had them ingrained in his mind's eye, never to fade. Opening his mouth, his thoughts raced a thousand miles ahead of his body, intending to say these fantasies aloud, safe in the dark glowing crush of the crowd. Rayne looked at him with soft wondrous eyes, his lips parted as if waiting with baited breath for Kris to speak.\n\n\"Rayne . . .\"\n\nThey both moved in at once, as if in slow motion. Kris's heart thudded in his chest like it was underwater, his blood rushing through his veins and tingling in his lips in anticipation of the\u2014\n\n\"Sorry, am I interrupting?\"\n\nKris froze as his heart skipped faster and his blood spread through his face in a wave of heat. He turned to find Calloway standing a few feet off, watching them with a smile, even as a faint line furrowed his brow.\n\n\"Cal.\" Rayne smiled and held out his hand. \"You made it.\"\n\n\"You sure I shouldn't come back later?\"\n\nKris wished Cal would. He had forgotten, in that rush of love and understanding, that Calloway was coming, that that had been the plan all along. He was so close to telling Rayne everything\u2014they were on the same level, he and Rayne, bonded by the music and the neon lights. He'd been going to tell Rayne with more than words\u2014they had been so close!\u2014but he'd needed to make sure Rayne knew what he was saying first. But now, with Calloway here, his certainty stuttered. He didn't know what to do.\n\n\"No, stay,\" Rayne said, taking Calloway by both hands and drawing him closer. \"We were waiting for you.\"\n\n\"You're both very high.\"\n\n\"You're not?\"\n\nCalloway shook his head. \"I stopped all that when I quit the cult. I don't even drink anymore.\"\n\n\"You can dance, though.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I can dance. Rayne, listen.\" He glanced at Kris, but when Kris didn't say anything, he continued. \"I know where a few guys from the press are hanging out. If we go over there now, by tomorrow everyone will be talking.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Rayne said, tracing the lines of one of Calloway's tattoos up his arm until it disappeared under his sleeve. Kris squirmed, longing to do the same to Rayne, somewhere quieter and more private.\n\n\"Rayne.\" Calloway was laughing, his touch gentle as he caught Rayne's hand. \"Are you listening?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I am. We're going to find the press. Kris? Will you be okay staying with Angel?\"\n\nKris had lost Angel somewhere in the crowd. He pictured her dancing with a hundred strangers under those incandescent jelly lights, swimming through the sea of bodies like a minnow dancing under the waves.\n\n\"Kris,\" Rayne repeated.\n\nHe and Calloway both looked concerned, clearly waiting for Kris's response. Kris could see their auras, shimmering around their silhouettes like heat waves. Calloway was attracted to Rayne, he realized, even beyond the basic friendly attraction that had prompted him to agree to the publicity stunt in the first place. They were still holding hands, Cal's thumb brushing Rayne's almost unconsciously. Kris watched as tiny sparks of light like fireflies jumped from the point of contact.\n\nHe had missed his chance. No\u2014he had given his chance away when he'd told Rayne to agree to the whole scheme. It was supposed to have made things easier, but it had made everything impossibly worse. His thoughts whirled uselessly. He was too high to solve this problem, too high to . . .\n\nHe made himself smile and relax and meet their questioning gaze. \"I'm good. I'm okay. You guys go . . . go do your thing.\"\n\nRayne glanced at Calloway before letting go of his hands and stepping in close to Kris again. Kris leaned in instinctively to meet him, their bodies hot and too complicated for him to consider with his mind like this. He touched Rayne's arm, trailing up to his shoulder and his neck. The wild roses again. He leaned in\u2014\n\nCalloway gave a polite cough from over Rayne's shoulder.\n\n\"Kris?\" Rayne said, softly, like he didn't understand at all.\n\n\"I need water,\" Kris said abruptly. Rayne and Calloway needed to convince the world they were dating, and Kris had no place in that. Cal's aura shimmered like gossamer, all wound up in Rayne's. Kris pulled his hand back, missing the touch before it was even gone, and retreated a step, forcing distance between them until his head cleared. \"I'm going to walk outside,\" he said. \"I want to see . . . everything.\"\n\nAngel reemerged from the crowd, flushed with sweat from dancing.\n\n\"Will you be okay by yourself?\" Rayne asked. \"It's still your first time on molly.\"\n\n\"I'm good,\" Kris said firmly. \"I'll meet you at the bus later, okay?\"\n\n\"You sure?\"\n\n\"I'm sure. Keep dancing. Go find your paparazzi.\"\n\nRayne smiled, his hesitation melting away like it had never been, and Angel pressed a bottle of water into Kris's hands. \"Remember, if you feel weird, just find festival security,\" she told him. \"They'll get you back to us.\"\n\n\"I'll be okay,\" he promised. Angel kissed his cheek, and when he touched it after he found that her lipstick had left a little mark on his skin.\n\nCalloway took Rayne by the shoulders, and leaned in close to whisper something in his ear, and Rayne smiled and laughed, low and dark and full of promise. Kris slipped from the tent before he had to see them kiss, leaving behind the jellyfish swimming through the air above the dancers' heads, and into the night air. It was crisp and fresh and it filled his lungs with the sweetest taste he could imagine, the kind he hadn't known since childhood\u2014like bonfires, with pinprick stars in the void, fireflies, and frogs chirping, forever out of sight. It was a relief to replace Rayne, and all the feelings Rayne evoked\u2014love like he couldn't even articulate\u2014with the air and the stars and the insects, if only for a moment.\n\nHe walked in no particular direction at all. Half the time he spent staring up at the sky, watching the constellations shimmer in and out of existence, and the other half winding around tents and dancers and makeshift campsites under the open sky. He felt connected to every single person he passed. They were all children, all finding themselves on the same planet, all spinning through space and time and life together. They were all love. He hummed to himself as he walked, skipping between Rayne's lyrics and songs he remembered his mother singing to him when he was a child. He basked in the beauty of the world and the fate that had led him to this particular moment, this moment out of a million, billion possibilities, and then he saw the peacock.\n\nHe had wandered to the edge of the festival grounds where tents were scarce and people were scarcer, but it was lit up with pot lights that bathed the desert in a golden glow. Looking around, he cast glances over his shoulder, but there was no one nearby to confirm that the bird was real.\n\nThe bird looked at Kris with bright eyes and bobbed his head. He was the most strikingly regal creature Kris had ever seen, but what a peacock was doing in the middle of the Mojave Desert, Kris couldn't guess. The peacock didn't seem lost, in as far as any peacock could seem lost or not, but he obviously didn't belong. Unfortunately, Kris and the peacock were the only living beings in sight.\n\n\"Hey there,\" he said.\n\nThe peacock strutted closer, his head cocked as he regarded Kris with frank curiosity.\n\n\"I'm Kris. What are you doing out here?\"\n\nHe didn't answer, for which Kris was grateful. Instead, as if pleased to have found an appreciative audience, the peacock spread his tail feathers in a magnificent fan, and Kris's knees buckled in the face of such overwhelming splendor, and he sank to the ground to stare.\n\nHe needed to find Rayne.\n\nThe thought came to him unbidden but, once in his head, was undeniable. Kris didn't want to experience this alone, and Rayne was the only person Kris could imagine appreciating it as he did. Rayne and the peacock were kindred spirits, after all, bound by the mandala on the back of Rayne's head. Kris dug his phone from his pocket and texted him, his fingers skittering over the letters.\n\nYou have to see this, he wrote. Come find me by the lights.\n\nThe peacock strutted closer, apparently annoyed by Kris's lapse in attention, but preened, appeased, when Kris raised his phone to snap a picture. It came out blurry and unidentifiable, but he sent it anyway.\n\nRayne texted back a series of question marks.\n\n\"Okay,\" Kris said, staring at his phone screen. \"This isn't going to work.\" He pushed himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily as he found his balance, and held out his hand to the peacock. \"I hope you're a cooperative kind of bird, because it's really important that Rayne meets you.\"\n\nThe peacock rustled his fan, blinked, and seemed to shrug. Kris took that as consent and proceeded with his plan. The peacock was amicable enough about letting him approach, and though Kris was nervous about putting his hand in range of the beak, the bird didn't startle or snap or appear remotely concerned about the strange, drug-addled human trying to touch him. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease with the idea.\n\n\"Good boy,\" Kris said, like the peacock was a strange, colorful dog instead of a misplaced exotic bird. The bird's feathers were soft, and so bright they seemed to glow when he touched them. Kris shuffled nearer, and the peacock obligingly folded his tail down, and allowed Kris to pick him up and tuck him under his arm, his tail trailing to the ground behind him as he settled in against Kris's side.\n\nWarmth unfurled in Kris's chest at his success. Rayne was going to love it.\n\nKris didn't remember passing out, but the next thing he knew, he was waking up again. It happened slowly. He drifted out of his dreams bit by bit, until his brain was awake but his body wasn't, and another indistinguishable amount of time passed before he could convince his eyes to open. He would have been happy to float in the ether awhile longer, but Rayne approached his bunk\u2014Kris recognized his footsteps even half-asleep\u2014paused, and said, \"What the hell is that.\"\n\nKris blinked. His mouth was so dry his tongue was glued to his palette, and he had to unstick it an inch at a time before he could talk. It felt like he'd been clenching his jaw in his sleep. The trade-off for a night of life-altering revelations, he supposed.\n\n\"What?\" he croaked. He rolled over\u2014a wave of dizziness followed him, with nausea on its tail\u2014and found himself face to face with a very large, very glossy blue bird. \"Oh.\"\n\n\"Kris, why do you have a peacock in your bunk?\"\n\nThe bird cocked his head at Rayne and bobbed closer; Kris put his arm around the peacock to keep him from escaping.\n\n\"I have an explanation,\" Kris said, \"but it involves a lot of drugs.\"\n\n\"You had one hit of MDMA, the same as the rest of us, and no one else appropriated a wild bird.\"\n\n\"I don't think it's actually wild,\" Kris said, fishing around his bunk for his water bottle. The bird nestled in under his arm and regarded Rayne with an appraising eye. \"It seems pretty friendly.\" He took a swig, wincing as the water burned its way down his parched throat.\n\n\"Should I ask where you got it, or should I keep my plausible deniability?\"\n\n\"I didn't steal it,\" Kris protested. He sat up, fighting how his head spun at the movement, and ducked out of the bunk to join Rayne on the bus floor. The bird perched on the edge of the mattress and ruffled his wings. \"He was just wandering the grounds, all by himself. I wanted to show you.\"\n\n\"That's what you were texting me about?\"\n\n\"It was too dark to take a good picture.\"\n\n\"So you brought it back to the bus, but then you fell asleep before you could show me,\" Rayne guessed. \"Did you use it as a pillow all night?\"\n\n\"He didn't mind,\" Kris said awkwardly. The peacock screamed pleasantly. \"Anyway, it's a present. I said I'd get you a peacock, and I did.\"\n\nRayne stared at the bird. The bird stared back.\n\n\"I was having some kind of revelation last night about life, the universe, and everything, and the peacock seemed really important at the time. You have to admit it's perfect for your look. Like, it's not an elephant, but it's pretty good.\"\n\n\"It is,\" Rayne agreed, his reluctance plainly slipping fast as the bird stared him down.\n\n\"And I couldn't just leave him wandering the desert. Peacocks aren't supposed to be all the way out here. The coyotes would get him.\"\n\n\"They would.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\nThe bird fluttered down to the bus floor, measured how much room he had, and spread his fan, shaking it in Rayne's face until he made the appropriate appreciative noises. Then, despite the extremely tight fit, the peacock began strutting up and down the length of the bus, screaming, until everyone else poked their bleary faces from their bunks to see what the fuck all the commotion was.\n\n\"Meet our new mascot,\" Rayne said helplessly.\n\nThe peacock leaped up to land on Rayne's shoulder, where he surveyed his new kingdom with a proud and godly air, his tail feathers trailing down Rayne's back like a cape.\n\n\"You do look good,\" Stef said, before retreating back behind their curtain. \"We should bring it onstage next time. Now for fuck's sake, let me go back to sleep.\"\n\nThe bird pecked at a strand of Rayne's hair and seemed perfectly content to stay on his shoulder.\n\n\"Okay then,\" Rayne said. \"I guess we're keeping it.\"\n\nKris wasn't infused with light and love and an understanding of the universe anymore, but he still got a buzz of satisfaction from knowing his instinct to share the bird with Rayne had been the right one.\n\nKris found Angel sitting outside with Rikki, both drinking coffee from Styrofoam cups. They sat cross-legged facing each other, Rikki gazing at Angel with unabashed attention, which Angel seemed to accept as her due.\n\n\"Morning,\" Kris said. His dizziness was mostly gone, though his stomach was still churning uneasily. \"You two do anything fun last night?\"\n\n\"We got high; we talked. We slept outside on the ground, for some reason.\" Angel grimaced. \"My back is killing me.\"\n\n\"You said you needed to connect to nature,\" Rikki provided. \"The stars were all sparking in the sky; we watched them for hours. It seemed important to you, so I didn't try to talk you out of it.\"\n\n\"Yeah, no, that was a bad idea.\" She turned to glance up at Kris. \"He told me more about his order's spirituality, their god and all that. That was something.\"\n\nKris's eyebrows went up. \"Oh yeah? Is he like you guys, that whole shaved-head, biker-gang style?\"\n\n\"Oh, no. He doesn't look anything like us,\" Rikki said. \"He's the most beautiful being in all creation. He embodies it. We look like this so He won't think we're trying to compete.\"\n\n\"He doesn't sound very compassionate,\" Kris said. \"Maybe you should upgrade.\"\n\n\"Reject the patriarchy,\" Angel said, raising her fist while bringing her coffee up to her mouth again with her other hand.\n\nRikki blinked. \"I wouldn't know how to find another god. Or a goddess. Or . . . any other kind. I wouldn't know where to start.\"\n\n\"You think they're going to let you back in the cult?\" Kris asked. \"I mean the gang. Um. The family?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Rikki confessed. \"I don't know what to do if they won't take me back.\"\n\nAngel nudged him with her boot. \"You can stay with us till you figure it out. We'll watch out for you.\"\n\n\"I don't want to be abandoned by my god.\"\n\n\"I'll find you a new one,\" she promised. \"Don't worry, hun. You'll find the family you deserve.\"\n\nRikki seemed doubtful, but he asked, \"Can I meet yours? It's okay to say no,\" he added quickly. \"Most people would rather not meet me, so I get it.\" He bit his lip with a hopeful expression, but not much of one.\n\nAngel looked at Kris. Kris looked at Rikki. He didn't have any opposition to introducing the kid to the others, though he wasn't sure what Calloway's reaction would be. Cal seemed confident in having left the cult behind, but Kris didn't want to put that to the test with the publicity stunt at stake. Though Rayne could walk away from the stunt with his career intact, the press would still have a field day trying to connect him to a cult, and Kris couldn't imagine Brian being too pleased about that.\n\n\"We'll avoid Cal for now,\" Angel said, evidently following Kris's line of thought without having to ask. \"And try not to mention the whole god thing just yet, okay?\"\n\nRikki nodded, entirely eager to please.\n\n\"All right, come on, then.\" Angel stood up in increments, stretching her back as she rose.\n\n\"Do you know where Rayne and Cal ended up last night?\" Kris asked, aiming for casual and missing it by a mile.\n\nAngel regarded him knowingly. \"I wasn't with them, but I've heard some things.\"\n\nKris swallowed. \"Is that good or bad?\"\n\n\"Well, it's good for Calloway.\" She took Rikki by the arm. \"Let's go find breakfast. Kris? I'll see you around?\"\n\n\"For sure,\" Kris said faintly. Angel waved goodbye over her shoulder and left him there, wondering what exactly \"good for Calloway\" meant, and if that meant it was bad for Kris. He needed more information before going to see Rayne again, and if he needed information about paparazzi rumors, he needed to find Cassie.\n\nShe was sitting behind the drum kit on their otherwise empty stage, tapping out a beat as she nodded along to the rhythm. Kris watched her for a minute, wondering what might have happened if they'd stuck together in their old high school band after all, before he stepped up to get her attention.\n\nShe set her sticks down and grinned from ear to ear, which was a strong indicator that something had indeed happened last night, and she knew exactly what it was.\n\n\"Guess what!\"\n\nHe really didn't want to. \"What?\"\n\n\"Calloway propositioned Rayne last night. It was filthy. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were the real thing.\"\n\nKris's throat went dry. \"What did Rayne say?\"\n\n\"Why? You jealous?\"\n\n\"Cassie.\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes. \"They didn't start screwing in the middle of the festival, obviously. Here, check this out. The pics from last night are already online. The label must be ecstatic\u2014look at them! Don't they look good together?\"\n\nShe handed him her phone, the screen lit up with tiny pictures. They were too small for Kris to see many details, but didn't leave much to the imagination. Either Rayne and Cal were that dedicated to their performance, or there was something more going on between them. Kris bit his lip and scrolled down.\n\n\"This is a video. That's, uh. Daring.\"\n\n\"It's not a sex tape, genius, it's an interview.\"\n\nSuccumbing to curiosity against his better judgment, Kris pressed Play. Rayne and Calloway swam into focus, Rayne's arm slung casually over Cal's shoulders, with Cal's hand at his waist. They appeared intimately at ease together, and though Kris knew Rayne had been high, he didn't look it.\n\n\"So are you two serious?\" the interviewer asked.\n\n\"It's too soon to say,\" Rayne said easily. \"Maybe it'll turn into something and maybe it won't; we're just enjoying the chance to hang out at the festival.\"\n\nCal nodded along. He obviously wasn't as practiced as Rayne at acting for the press, but Kris was sure he'd get there. Rayne was the best teacher he could hope for, after all.\n\n\"So where does your burgeoning romance leave your guitarist, Kris Golding? You're familiar with the rumors that you two were an item on the down-low, of course?\"\n\n\"He's not into guys,\" Rayne said immediately, and Kris winced. \"We always made it very clear to everyone\u2014press and fans alike\u2014that what we did was just a performance, and I stand by that.\"\n\n\"Kris is a solid guy,\" Cal added, leaning into Rayne's side and entangling their fingers. \"He's a good friend and a great bandmate, but there's really nothing else there. I'm not a home-wrecker.\"\n\nThe interviewer laughed obligingly. \"Okay, so Golding isn't interested. What about you, Rayne? You never had any feelings on your end? I hate to push this,\" she added, \"but my viewers would be out for blood if I let it slide.\"\n\nKris held his breath as he waited for Rayne's reply.\n\n\"No, none of that, I'm afraid,\" Rayne said, and he winced apologetically at the camera as if in sympathy for his disappointed fans. \"I don't get involved with straight boys anymore, no matter how enthusiastic they are. I learned that lesson ages back, and it's not an experience I'm keen to repeat.\"\n\n\"Fair enough. Are your shows going to change, if you and Calloway do get serious?\"\n\nRayne and Cal shared a glance. They were sitting so close they were practically in each other's laps, having apparently decided subtlety was the enemy.\n\n\"We'll have to discuss that when it comes up,\" Rayne finally said. \"For now, Kris and I are toning down some of the more risqu\u00e9 performances, just while Cal and I get our bearings.\"\n\n\"The fans are very invested in your perceived relationship with Golding,\" the interviewer pressed.\n\nCal intervened before Rayne had to.\n\n\"They put on a hell of a show and I'm not trying to mess with that,\" he said. \"I'm sure we can work something out to everyone's satisfaction. The fans don't have to worry about a thing.\" He smiled broadly and pressed a kiss to Rayne's jaw, lingering there until Rayne laughed and obligingly turned to meet his lips.\n\nThe video clip cut out, and Kris stared at the end screen for a second before handing the phone back to Cassie.\n\n\"Cool,\" he croaked. \"It looks like it's going well. I'm happy for them.\"\n\nShe narrowed her eyes. \"No, you're not. You're being weird.\"\n\n\"No, really. If they want to get together for real, that's . . . awesome. I'm just going to go . . . elsewhere. For a minute. And, uh.\"\n\nCassie watched him critically. \"You want to tell me what's going on, or am I supposed to guess? You don't want me to guess.\"\n\n\"You don't have to guess anything. There's nothing going on.\"\n\nCassie's expression intensified.\n\n\"Shut up,\" Kris said. \"It's true.\"\n\nHe nodded definitively, turned on his heel, and left the stage. He heard Cassie pick up her sticks again, a snappy little beat following him as he went. He hadn't lied; he would absolutely congratulate Rayne and Cal if they decided to give it a shot. But he really fucking hoped they didn't, because Kris wasn't just going to tell Rayne he was bi: he was going to tell him he was in love with him too, sober and for real, and he wasn't going to risk waiting till after they left Purple Sage to do it.\n\nLeif rarely raised his voice or lost his temper, but when neither he nor Red nor Boar could locate the peacock when they got up that morning, he came close. He shut his eyes and forced his temper down, his hands in fists at his sides.\n\n\"We'll find Him,\" he said, his voice admirably calm. \"And find Rikki.\" The boy had been causing trouble the day before; he might have retaliated by stealing the Avatar away. Leif concentrated on his breathing meditation, and gradually his temper cooled to something more controllable. Maybe Leif had been too harsh on the boy\u2014letting Red and Boar give him that beating had been one thing, but threatening to strip his bike down and sell it for scrap metal might have pushed Rikki over the edge. \"Fan out; search the grounds. Find them both.\"\n\nHe set off through the heart of the festival toward the picnic area. Eventually, the boy would need to eat. And when he did, Leif would be waiting.\n\n\". . . the last time you ate a real meal?\" a familiar voice said.\n\nLeif strained his ears, recognizing it but not remembering from where until the speaker stepped into the clearing where the tables were set up. It was the young black woman he had encountered twice already\u2014she'd hit Boar in the face with that pretzel, and hit Red later with her handbag when she interrupted their fight. And at her side was Rikki, the insolent little whelp\u2014Leif was right that the boy had defected. The Avatar, however, was nowhere to be seen.\n\n\"You're skin and bones,\" the woman continued.\n\n\"I've always been like that,\" Rikki replied.\n\nHe was all limbs, like a scarecrow that had learned to walk. His cuts were healing up though, even if he was still too pale and the skin around his eyes too dark to look healthy. But he would live; Red and Boar hadn't done him any lasting damage. Leif was sure they would have if he'd let them; their inherent violence was getting increasingly difficult for him to rein in. He couldn't say what would happen when he finally lost control.\n\n\"We'll get you some food, then you can meet the bands. Though we should wait before introducing you to Calloway, just in case. Kris is right; that sounds like a mess waiting to happen.\"\n\nLeif blinked at the mention of Calloway. It was too great a coincidence to be anyone but his former order member, the one who had abandoned them not so long ago. He waited until they were near enough before he stepped out from his hiding place to intercept them.\n\n\"You,\" he glowered, \"have stolen the Avatar.\"\n\nRikki stopped dead in his tracks, one arm flung in front of his companion like he could protect her. Leif stiffened and puffed himself up, though he kept one eye on the woman in case she decided to launch another offensive.\n\n\"Who stole it?\" Rikki demanded.\n\nLeif paused. \"You didn't?\"\n\n\"No! I never touched it.\" Rikki folded his arms over his chest and glared. Leif, broader if not taller, glared back more formidably.\n\n\"Rikki was with me all night,\" the woman cut in. \"He hasn't been anywhere near your avatar, whatever it is.\"\n\nLeif studied her long and hard, and she bore his scrutiny with cool eyes, her chin held high. Finally, he determined she was telling the truth, and turned back to Rikki. \"If it wasn't you, then it was someone else, and you're going to help us find it.\"\n\nRikki looked at the woman, visibly hesitating. Leif ground his teeth together, his patience fraying. This was the longest the peacock had been away from him since His arrival, and His absence grated at him, worse than road rash. Did his god's protection extend that far? Would his luck finally run dry without the bird? He didn't want to test it.\n\n\"Of course I'll help you,\" Rikki finally said, when the woman did nothing to intervene. \"We're family, right?\"\n\n\"The Avatar is more important than that,\" Leif replied. Rikki wouldn't be welcomed back into the fold, but he could serve his purpose before they cut him loose. \"Come. We should talk.\"\n\nRikki nodded and glanced back at the woman one last time.\n\n\"You know where to find me,\" she said.\n\nLeif took Rikki by the arm and dragged him away. The boy kept looking back over his shoulder as they walked, his expression lost, but unafraid. The last thing Leif heard before exiting the picnic grounds was the woman uttering a heartfelt \"Fuck.\"\n\nKris needed to work up the courage to talk to Rayne. He was sure that once his feelings were out in the open, even if they were unrequited, he would feel better than he did bottling them up and pretending there was nothing there. Once Rayne had all the facts, the ball would be in his court, and he could do what he wanted. He was pretending to date Calloway\u2014so what? Unless they made it real, it didn't have to get in the way. The publicity stunt had always been a weak excuse to keep Kris's feelings from evolving.\n\nBut then, Cal and Rayne were getting along well, and Kris couldn't have imagined Cal's attraction to Rayne the night before. The only difference between Kris and Cal was that Calloway was openly gay, and it was his job to make people believe he and Rayne were an item. That gave Cal the upper hand, but Kris wasn't going to give up. Rayne could choose Kris, or Cal, or neither, but the weight would be off Kris's chest. He would reassure Brian that what had happened with Fink would never happen with Kris, because Kris wasn't straight, and more than that, he was in love.\n\nNo more secrets. He was going to let it all out.\n\nBut first, he got drunk.\n\nAnd then he got drunker.\n\nIt was all Jay's fault. After the first few days of touring, the bands hadn't usually imbibed too heavily. They'd partied hard for a short time, and then the novelty had worn off and the reality of surviving bus life with a hangover sunk in, and they'd stuck to mostly social drinking. But once in a while, someone wanted to turn up, and insisted on dragging everyone else along for the ride.\n\nWhen their set ended that afternoon, Kris staggered backstage and Jay greeted him by pushing a bottle of whiskey into his hands.\n\n\"Tonight we drink!\" Jay crowed. A ragtag cheer, more confused than enthusiastic, went up around him. The peacock, which Rayne had christened Freddie Mercury, shrieked. Brian had read them the riot act about what would happen if the bird got hurt onstage, or hurt one of them, or turned on the audience, as if he were a stampeding elephant after all, and not just an overgrown and unusually vain bird. However, it turned out to be too much work trying to keep him offstage and safe. Like his namesake, Freddie had a thirst for fame, and escaped his handlers to insinuate himself in the center of attention at every opportunity, to Brian's despair. Of course Rayne also enjoyed the extra attention, and Kris was pleased that his gift\u2014however drug-induced\u2014had gone over so well.\n\nFreddie seemed equally pleased with his newfound stardom.\n\nOnly Calloway was uneasy about it, asking repeatedly where Freddie had come from and appearing worried when Kris told him that the bird had been wandering the festival grounds, then downright shaken when Kris offered up his drug-addled spiritual experience on finding him.\n\n\"Maybe you shouldn't share that story too widely,\" Calloway suggested. \"People might come looking for him.\"\n\n\"What, like animal-control guys? Do you need a license to tour with a bird like this?\"\n\n\"Just be careful, that's all I'm saying. Maybe he escaped from a zoo or somebody's private collection or something. It might cause trouble for you.\"\n\n\"I'm sure Brian's taking care of any legal stuff.\" But Calloway's concern was palpable. They might be in competition for Rayne's attention, but it was hard to dislike the guy, especially when he was so clearly distressed. Cruelty didn't come naturally to Kris in any case, so he smiled and gave Calloway a reassuring thump on the arm. \"Don't worry about it. It's not like we adopted a stray tiger to take onstage.\"\n\nKris got drunker than he had since their going-away party, maybe more so. He wound up on the bus couch with his head in Angel's lap and his feet in Jay's, watching Rayne tell a story about his first show with Passionfruit, and trying not to look at Cass and Stef sitting on top of each other in a near acrobatic feat of intimacy that he really didn't need to see, like, ever. Calloway stood near the bunks, leaning against them as Rayne talked. Kris's attention kept drifting from Rayne to Cal and back again, the alcohol pushing him to search for clues. Were they together for real? Should he ask? No, Rayne would have told him.\n\n\"And then the drum kit caught fire,\" Rayne said with a flourish, nearly spilling his drink.\n\n\"Knocks, you have the worst luck,\" Cassie said.\n\n\"My luck's just fine,\" Knocks said, tapping his rocker boot and pointing to Jay. \"It's this little asshole who keeps fucking me over.\" Knocks was more or less ambulatory since getting back from the hospital, but unable to play drums in the cast. So while Cass stayed behind the kit, he'd taken up rhythm guitar rather than sit out entirely.\n\n\"How was I supposed to know it was flammable?\" Jay asked. \"It was a total accident, and I already apologized about your foot today. Anyway, you're having a great time on guitar.\"\n\nKnocks glared in a way that said he knew Jay was right, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of agreeing.\n\n\"Anyway,\" Cass said loudly. \"We're cool. Right?\"\n\n\"We're fine,\" Billie said. \"Jay's a live wire; we all know to give him a wide berth onstage.\"\n\n\"As if,\" Cassie snorted. \"You guys can't keep your hands off each other for five seconds.\"\n\n\"Stealing all our ideas,\" Rayne said mournfully. \"You used to be so much more innovative, Billie. What happened?\"\n\n\"We're not\u2014 Jay, stop it,\" Billie said, as Jay dropped Kris's feet to the cushions and rose, advancing on Billie. \"It's just for the show!\"\n\n\"Giving me a wide berth,\" Jay said. \"I'll show you a wide berth\u2014\"\n\n\"That doesn't even make sense!\" Billie howled, before Jay pounced and took him from his chair to the floor.\n\nCassie whipped out her phone without moving from Stef's lap. \"Sending this to both your girlfriends,\" she sang. Jay flipped her the finger without getting off Billie, who thrashed weakly, making strangled cries of exaggerated anguish as he tried to shove Jay off. Kris made himself comfortable, stretching out along the couch.\n\n\"I feel like I should intervene,\" Rayne said, \"but the view's too good. I can't bring myself to do it.\"\n\n\"Fuck you,\" Billie said from the floor. \"I would've helped you, you traitor.\"\n\n\"I don't know if I'd be complaining,\" Calloway said.\n\n\"Well, I might if it was Jay,\" Rayne mused.\n\n\"Fuck you!\" Jay laughed. \"I'm a fucking catch and you know it.\"\n\n\"I don't know, you're not quite my type . . . I mean, if it were Kris or Cal, that's a different story.\"\n\n\"If I were what?\" Kris asked.\n\n\"Engaging Rayne in an impromptu wrestling match,\" Angel said.\n\n\"Oh. Do you want me to?\" Kris asked Rayne, looking for somewhere to put his drink. \"I can totally do that, hang on.\" He handed his drink to Angel and got to his feet. The change in elevation brought the drunkenness on suddenly, and he had to take a moment to collect himself.\n\n\"Don't think you're going to be wrestling anybody, sweetie,\" Angel said, her hand on his hip to steady him.\n\n\"Nope, I got this. Bit drunker than I thought, but I got this.\" He leveled one finger at Rayne. \"You stand there and hold still, okay?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure this is a great idea,\" Rayne said, but he didn't move. Calloway backed up a pace, out of the line of fire.\n\n\"Get him!\" Jay yelled from the floor.\n\nKris made a valiant attempt, but the floor tipped sideways under him and Rayne met him halfway, sweeping him up in an embrace that took Kris off his feet, laughing helplessly as Rayne swung him around before setting him down again.\n\n\"That's not wrestling,\" Kris said. \"This is just, like, a hug.\"\n\n\"I like hugging better.\"\n\n\"Get a room,\" Cassie called.\n\nIt was the best idea Kris had ever heard, but he swallowed it with the rest of his whiskey and smiled and tried not to let his heart show too obviously. He had no idea whether it worked, but Rayne laughed and poured him another drink. Calloway watched them without saying a word.\n\nThey carried on until well after midnight. The stars peeked out one by one until the sky was a dazzling array of rhinestones against the black, and the desert air grew cool and sharp. Somewhere beyond the festival perimeter, a coyote howled intermittently. Gradually the bus quieted until everyone had retired save for Kris, Rayne, and Calloway. Cal didn't drink, and outstripped them in terms of sobriety by miles, but seemed happy to keep them company. Finally, when Passionfruit had returned to their bus and the rest of The Chokecherries had lost the battle with consciousness, he stretched and got to his feet, gesturing to the door. Rayne nodded and drew them both outside, leaving the others to sleep.\n\n\"I should head back to my bus,\" Cal said, his voice soft in the night.\n\n\"We'll walk you.\" Rayne put his arm around Cal's waist and leaned into him, looking back expectantly at Kris. \"Coming?\"\n\n\"Don't want to get in your way,\" Kris said.\n\n\"I don't think there's anyone around worth putting on a show for,\" Calloway said. \"Come on, walk with us.\"\n\nKris walked a pace behind them, cataloging how their arms looped around each other's bodies and how Rayne leaned against Cal, his boots scuffing through the dust as he walked, remarkably sure-footed, through the maze of tents and stages. Kris was pleasantly drunk and getting sleepy, though the sharpness of the air canceled out some of the haze. Rayne and Cal complement each other nicely, he thought blurrily. Rayne's slender, darker figure bent flower-like toward Cal's broader, sun-kissed frame. When they reached the Dead Generation bus, they paused, three points under the vast night sky.\n\n\"I'll see you tomorrow,\" Calloway said. \"Take care of yourselves, all right?\"\n\nRayne darted in to press a kiss to his jaw, his curls brushing Cal's face for a second before he pulled back. \"We'll be fine. It's just us and the stars out tonight.\"\n\nThey let go of each other and Calloway nodded to Kris. \"Good night.\"\n\n\"Good night,\" Kris echoed as Cal disappeared into his bus.\n\nRayne swayed back to him and dropped an arm over his shoulders. \"Okay?\"\n\n\"Do you like him?\" Kris asked, his heart in his mouth as he waited for Rayne's reply.\n\n\"Sure I like him. Don't you?\"\n\n\"No, I mean\u2014Cassie said he propositioned you last night.\"\n\nRayne broke into a smile. \"Yeah, he did. I have to say, he made a very tempting offer.\" The night cast his face in shadows of blue and violet and his expression turned thoughtful. \"The possibility's there. He asked if I wanted to do more, since we were already\u2014for the press, you know? I didn't say yes, but I didn't turn him down, either.\"\n\n\"Do you want to?\" Kris asked, biting the tip of his tongue. If Rayne said yes, Kris was done. If he said no\u2014\n\n\"A lot of things seem like a good idea on MDMA,\" Rayne said vaguely. \"I might . . . I could like him. Or more than like. But I don't, not yet.\"\n\n\"Is he a good kisser?\"\n\nRayne grinned and pulled Kris tighter, so Kris tripped over his own sneakers and stumbled against Rayne's side. They both laughed in hushed voices as they righted themselves.\n\n\"Yeah, he is. We had fun.\"\n\n\"A better kisser than me?\" Kris pushed, not entirely joking.\n\n\"Course not. You're my favorite, baby. Always will be.\"\n\nRayne pressed a kiss to Kris's temple, sloppy and a bit off the mark as he laughed, but Kris closed his eyes and hummed, warm all the way through. He knew Rayne was only teasing, but that didn't mean he was lying. Kris tilted his head back to take in the stars. The sky looked infinite, and he found a weird comfort in his own insignificance. Gazing up at the stars like that, it didn't matter what he did or didn't do; the universe didn't care.\n\n\"Hey, Rayne. Remember what I told you last night? When I was high?\"\n\n\"About the peacock?\"\n\n\"No, dumbass, about you.\"\n\nRayne bit his lip. Kris looked away. He had the whiskey bottle by the neck, dangling loose from his fingers, its glass catching the scarce light left to them.\n\n\"You want a nightcap?\" Kris asked. \"Come on, come back to the stage.\"\n\nThe festival never slept, even if individuals had to. Kris and Rayne wound through music tents and raves and drum circles until they reached their stage, which was dark and empty for the night, and crept through the back to their tiny makeshift dressing room, where Kris set the whiskey bottle down on the table and took a minute to consider how drunk he was. Drunker than Rayne; they were evenly matched for consumption, but Kris's size had always made him a lightweight. Drunk enough to do something reckless, like tell Rayne how he felt for real. Maybe not drunk enough to regret it in the morning.\n\nHe'd have to wait and find out.\n\n\"When I told you I loved you,\" he said, \"and you said you loved me too. You said I was beautiful.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"I meant it.\"\n\n\"You were so high,\" Rayne giggled.\n\n\"And now I'm so drunk,\" Kris agreed. \"Tell me I'm pretty?\"\n\n\"God, you're the prettiest.\" Rayne reached out to pet Kris's hair and Kris leaned into it, his eyes fluttering closed for a second at the feeling. \"Even without the makeup, your face\u2014 I love that you wear it, though. I love that you don't care what anybody thinks.\"\n\n\"I care.\"\n\n\"Not enough to stop.\" Rayne carded his fingers through the tufts and down the back of Kris's neck to hold him there, warm and steady. Kris blinked up at him.\n\n\"Fuck, Kris,\" Rayne breathed. \"You don't know what you do to me.\"\n\n\"You and Calloway\u2014\"\n\n\"We're just friends, I don't know if we'll ever be anything but friends, I don't even know if I want to be more\u2014fuck, it's not like you and me, you know that\u2014\"\n\nWith more coordination than the drink should allow, Kris pulled Rayne in for a kiss. He closed his eyes, expecting the roar of the crowd; his heart skipped a beat when it never came. The only sounds were their own hurried breathing, the wet sound of their mouths meeting, and the rustle of their clothes as they pressed together. Kris threw himself into the kiss like he was dying for it, and Rayne returned with equal fervor. They only broke apart when they had to pant for breath, their foreheads touching as they held each other's faces, eyes wild and chests heaving.\n\n\"I want\u2014\" Kris began, but he didn't know how to finish. The booze swam in his head, dizzying and pushing him off-balance. Rayne hadn't let go: he stood with his eyes closed, his hair falling in his face. His lips were dark and swollen from the kiss, and Kris darted in to nip at them, pulling a desperate moan from Rayne's throat.\n\n\"Kiss me,\" Kris said against Rayne's skin. \"Just kiss me\u2014\"\n\nRayne kissed him. He started at Kris's jaw and bit and sucked his way down Kris's throat until Kris was panting breathless syllables into the dark, one hand knotted in Rayne's hair. By the time Rayne reached his collarbone, mouthing at the bend where his neck met his shoulder, Kris was aching for it. He wound his arms around Rayne's neck and buried his face in Rayne's hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, needing to feel and touch and taste nothing in the world but him.\n\nHe didn't know which of them moved first; maybe they moved at the same time, an inevitable collision of bodies and wants. The first touch brought the best kind of friction, relieving and desperate both at once, and Kris bucked his hips forward, instinctively seeking more.\n\nWhen their hips met, they both froze.\n\n\"Okay?\" Kris asked, not raising his face from Rayne's hair.\n\nRayne stroked his hands up and down Kris's sides. \"Fuck,\" he whispered. His voice was rough. Kris shuddered and twitched forward again, a fraction of an inch.\n\n\"We're really drunk,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"Is that a no?\"\n\n\"No, god, no. Please don't stop.\"\n\nAs far as sex went, it was the least sophisticated Kris had had since his adolescence, but he didn't care. Burning up in the wake of Rayne's touches, he was too drunk for anything more complex. He finally had Rayne and Rayne wanted him back. He couldn't believe he'd wasted so much time.\n\nThey made out like teenagers, rubbing up against each other fully clothed, stealing kisses with every breath. Kris went into it harder and faster than he'd meant, crashing up against the edge of orgasm without any finesse, wanting to draw it out longer but too desperate for Rayne's touch to manage. He came without even undoing his jeans, gasping out a curse in the dark and clinging to Rayne like a lifeline. Rayne pressed his open mouth to Kris's neck, muttering a steady litany of fuck, fuck, fuck against his skin, and followed a second after.\n\nAfterward, neither of them spoke at first. On the other side of the room, the mirror stood like a silent witness. Rayne's pupils were huge, blown out with lingering lust and a look so fond that Kris's heart leaped giddily in his chest. He was less drunk than he'd been a minute before, but drunk enough to dare to run his finger over Rayne's face, from his brow down his nose to trace the curve of his lips. Rayne smiled against his fingertip and Kris smiled back, helpless and glowing.\n\n\"Good?\" Kris asked, before he could stop himself.\n\n\"You're perfect,\" Rayne said, catching Kris's hand. \"How are you even real?\"\n\n\"Magic.\"\n\nRayne kissed his knuckles, a wet press of his lips, and led him down the steps and past the stage, back into the night. The air caressed Kris's skin like a lover. He felt on top of the world, and when they returned to the bus and he crawled into his bunk, his eyes drifting closed as the last of the whiskey chased itself through his blood, he could still taste Rayne on his tongue, like cinnamon hearts and sea salt. He fell asleep promising himself that it wouldn't be the last time.\n\nKris woke with a hangover so bad he thought he might die. He hadn't drunk enough to black out so there was no reason he should feel so close to death, but maybe there was something in the whiskey that did it; he didn't know. He got up as slowly as he could, his head throbbing, and resolved to never accept a drink from Jay ever again. Playing that afternoon was going to be a nightmare. He'd be lucky not to puke halfway through the set. He settled one hand protectively over his stomach while the other groped blindly along the bus as he staggered outside into the sun.\n\nHe instantly wished he'd stayed in bed. The sun was blinding and his head protested with a scream so shrill he actually flinched; he forced his eyes open and found Freddie staring at him judgmentally. He flipped the bird off and stumbled his way to the picnic area, dreading solid food but hoping a Gatorade might fix him. He hadn't had enough water the night before, and felt like he'd been keelhauled fifty miles down the desert highway.\n\nDespite feeling like death, there was an undeniable spring in his step, and he gave a bright wave to Cassie and Stef breakfasting together as he passed. He'd finally gotten with Rayne and it had been amazing, and no amount of alcohol-induced misery could take that away from him.\n\nRayne was sitting at a picnic table beside Calloway, nursing a coffee and a quiet conversation. He looked bleary and barely able to keep himself upright, while Cal appeared healthier, but vaguely apologetic about something. Kris couldn't hear their words, but they seemed intimate. Cal straightened and nudged Rayne in the side at Kris's approach, and Rayne let whatever he'd been saying trail off.\n\n\"Morning,\" Calloway greeted. \"Coffee?\"\n\n\"Morning,\" Kris said, \"and yeah, I need it.\"\n\n\"I'll get you one,\" Cal offered, his hand on Rayne's shoulder. \"Anything in it?\"\n\n\"Just black, thanks. Extra-large. Extra-triple-large. Or bigger.\"\n\nCal nodded and headed off to the vendor, glancing over his shoulder as Kris leaned one hip against the table.\n\n\"Morning, sunshine,\" Kris said to Rayne. \"How's your head?\"\n\nRayne grunted and tipped nose-first into his drink. \"Probably not as bad as yours. About last night . . .\"\n\nKris broke into a stupid grin. \"Yeah?\"\n\nRayne patted the table. \"Sit.\"\n\nKris slid onto the bench on the opposite side. Calloway returned a second later with the coffee, and reclaimed his place beside Rayne. That was where Kris wanted to sit, pressed up close beside him to leach his warmth in the morning sun, but they were in public and Cal and Rayne had appearances to keep up.\n\n\"You look miserable,\" Cal said to Rayne. \"There's a guy with a camera just over there\u2014give us a smile?\"\n\n\"I am miserable,\" Rayne complained. \"I'm hungover, among other things.\" He smiled anyway, and Kris doubted anyone else would notice how it seemed strained around the edges. He wondered what the \"other things\" were.\n\n\"Listen,\" Cal said. \"Why don't you two go someplace private for a chat? I'll come find you later and we'll do lunch.\"\n\nRayne nodded and beckoned for Kris to stand.\n\n\"Okay, sure,\" Kris said, glancing between the two of them in confusion. They had obviously been talking before his arrival\u2014about the night before? Rayne wasn't meeting his gaze, but Calloway carried an air of sympathy. \"Thanks for the coffee,\" Kris said, at a loss for any other words.\n\nRayne led him back to the dressing room, closing the door behind them and leaning against it. He did look miserable, the tension etching lines between his shoulders like he was expecting a blow. Kris couldn't imagine from whom.\n\n\"About last night?\" Kris prompted.\n\n\"We were really drunk.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Kris frowned. \"You don't think it was a mistake, do you?\"\n\n\"No,\" Rayne said quickly.\n\n\"Because I don't regret it. I regret the timing, and I regret drinking that much, but I needed some liquid courage to\u2014you know. It might get messy with us both being in the band, and I never want to compromise that, or your stunt with Calloway, but I meant what I said, Rayne.\"\n\n\"What you said when you were high on molly.\" Rayne raised his hands before Kris could protest. \"I believe you. I just\u2014 We had a good thing going on, onstage, didn't we? It was all for the show. And now I don't know what you want from me.\"\n\nKris floundered. It had never occurred to him last night that they weren't communicating on the same level. \"I want . . . more. Of what we did. I liked it. I thought you did too?\"\n\nRayne raked his fingers through his hair, tousling it up as he looked away. \"Kris, when you joined the band, you told me you liked girls. You said you were straight.\"\n\n\"I do like girls. Back home, I always said I was straight, but that was different.\"\n\n\"And when we were messing around, we said that was for the fans. No strings, no complications.\"\n\n\"Last night wasn't for the fans,\" Kris pointed out.\n\n\"Last night's why we're having this conversation. Kris . . .\"\n\n\"I said that I'd only ever been with girls, which was true. I never got a chance to explore anything in Kansas, and I didn't want to accidentally lead you on, or let you lead me on, because we're in a band together and I didn't want to fuck that up. And I still don't, but I do want . . . more. Of everything. From you.\"\n\n\"You've never even been with a man.\"\n\n\"I'm trying to be with one right now,\" Kris said.\n\nRayne sighed.\n\nKris's heart dropped like a rock. He folded his arms like he could keep it from dropping any farther, and gnawed on the inside of his lip. \"This isn't how I imagined this going,\" he admitted. \"I know you're into me. I know you were into me last night.\"\n\n\"I've tried it on with straight guys before,\" Rayne reminded him, \"and it's not something I want to do again. If you're bi, or pan, or . . . whatever else, that's great, and I'm happy for you. But I don't want to be the person you experiment with to figure it out.\" He raked his hair back from his forehead and finally met Kris's eyes. Kris couldn't make out his expression in the shadows, but it seemed like it might be one of regret.\n\nKris cast around for any way to drag the conversation back on track. \"We had fun though, didn't we?\" he tried. \"It was good\u2014\"\n\nRayne's expression shuttered and Kris knew he'd fucked up.\n\n\"Wait, that's not\u2014\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Kris. I can't go through another scenario like Fink where I get dragged through the mud for someone else's entertainment, especially if they don't even feel\u2014\" Rayne took a deep breath. \"It's not fair to me\u2014it's demeaning, and I can't\u2014I won't do it.\"\n\n\"That's not what I meant,\" Kris finished in a small voice.\n\n\"We were drunk,\" Rayne said. \"And I've got a chance with Cal. I like him and he likes me, and he's openly gay, Kris. He knows what he's about, and he told me so right from the start.\"\n\n\"You and Cal are just a publicity stunt.\"\n\n\"So are you and me,\" Rayne said gently.\n\nKris swallowed. \"Fine. I'll see you onstage.\"\n\nRayne nodded and slipped from the room. As soon as he was gone, Kris leaned back against the wall, his head throbbing from a hangover and from grief. He couldn't figure out where he'd gone so wrong.\n\n\"What did you do?\" Cassie asked bluntly.\n\nThey were waiting for their parents to come by and take them for brunch; the sun was sweltering and the highway asphalt was hot enough to melt rubber.\n\nKris shuffled around and didn't answer. Cassie rolled her eyes.\n\n\"I know something happened,\" she said. \"You got up this morning like you were on top of the world, and now you're all mopey. What's up?\"\n\n\"Me and Rayne,\" Kris finally said.\n\nCass whooped.\n\n\"No, no whooping. I fucked up and now it's all weird.\"\n\nShe quieted, but it took visible effort. \"But you two did get it on,\" she confirmed. \"Like, offstage, in private, just the two of you? How far did you get? Third base? Homerun?\"\n\n\"I hate sports metaphors. We, uh.\" He made a gesture. Cassie screeched. He sighed and covered his face with his hands. \"We were so drunk, Cass. It was such a mistake.\"\n\n\"Is that what he said, or are you having an identity crisis because you got off with a dude?\"\n\n\"Why does everyone keep assuming I don't know what I want?\" Kris demanded. \"I didn't wake up one morning and think, 'Oh, I wonder what it's like batting for the other team.' Like, I'm into guys. I always have been. Just because I haven't had a ton of\u2014any\u2014experience, that doesn't mean I don't know what I like.\"\n\n\"You've never talked about it before,\" Cassie pointed out.\n\n\"Neither have you,\" he countered.\n\n\"Point. So you're\u2014what? Bi?\"\n\n\"Bi,\" he said. \"I'm bisexual.\" It was the first time he'd said it aloud, and it felt scary and thrilling and relieving all at once, like going out in makeup for the first time, or lacing up a corset.\n\n\"Okay, well, does Rayne know that?\" Cassie asked. \"Or does he still think you're straight? And why would you even let him think that if it's not true? These guys shit rainbows, dude. You're not going to get a better opportunity than this to come out.\"\n\n\"He thinks I want to use him to experiment.\" Kris's insides went leaden at the reminder, and he curled in on himself, wishing he could disappear.\n\n\"Oh my god, are you in love with him?\"\n\n\"I\u2014\" He couldn't be, not now that Rayne had so thoroughly rejected him, no matter what Kris had thought he'd seen in Rayne's face in that dressing room the night before\u2014\n\n\"You are,\" Cassie breathed. \"Oh, shit. That sucks, man.\"\n\n\"Well, he doesn't want that,\" Kris said, with heavy resignation. \"He was talking about maybe trying to get somewhere with Cal. So it doesn't matter.\"\n\n\"You should really talk to him.\" She poked him in the arm. \"You guys could still work it out.\"\n\n\"Maybe?\"\n\n\"Talk to him, Kris. You're both adults\u2014physically, if not mentally some days\u2014and this might just be a huge misunderstanding.\"\n\nKris wanted to hole up somewhere dark and lick his wounds, but not talking was what had led to this mess in the first place. And regardless of whether he and Rayne could work things out, Cassie would be after him like a dog with a bone until he made an attempt. He sighed. \"Fine. We'll talk.\"\n\nShe settled back. \"You better. See me missing my chance to have Rayne Bakshi for a brother-in-law\u2014I don't think so.\"\n\nTheir parents' car pulled up and they got to their feet.\n\n\"As soon as we get back,\" Kris promised. \"I'll find him and we'll talk it out.\"\n\nTheir parents took them outside the festival to a little diner on the side of the highway, a quaint, family-owned place that proudly advertised its famous pies. Cassie hijacked the conversation, steering it clear of Kris with an ease born of years of jostling for attention. Kris didn't object; he only pitched in occasionally to corroborate some of her less believable Passionfruit anecdotes, all while Brad sat quietly, humming here and there to contribute, but mostly leaving well enough alone. Kris was glad for the respite\u2014he didn't want to pick a fight in the middle of the restaurant, not with his parents trying to treat him, but he didn't think he could resist if Brad started in on him.\n\n\"The festival's nearly over,\" his dad said. \"Are you looking forward to a change of scenery?\"\n\n\"It'll be good to be back on the road,\" Kris agreed. Purple Sage had left a sour taste in his mouth now, and he didn't want to set foot in that dressing room ever again. The fact that he and Rayne would still be sharing a bus\u2014he didn't know what to do about that, but quitting the band was out of the question.\n\nI'm going to talk to Rayne as soon as I get back, he told himself firmly. Cassie was right: he had probably blown this whole thing out of proportion. He should have taken Rayne's history with Fink into account and been more sensitive; he would apologize for that, and they could salvage things. Even if Rayne didn't want anything more than friendship, surely they could still have that.\n\n\"I think I'm still a bit hungover,\" he apologized.\n\nCassie slid his plate into her spot without a word and tucked in to the remains of his meal. \"Lightweight,\" she said cheerfully, around a mouthful of pancake. \"I think it'll be great to hit the road! I've never been on a road trip before, unless you count driving out here.\"\n\n\"With your Passionfruit band?\" their mom asked.\n\n\"And The Chokecherries,\" Cassie said, moving onto the hash browns. \"At least until Knocks can play again, but I'm having a great time, and the guys all like me, so.\" She shrugged. \"We'll see how it plays out. I'm happy to stay as long as I can.\"\n\n\"You'll be careful though,\" their dad said. \"They seem like a rowdy lot.\"\n\n\"I'll be careful, Dad. Jay's and Billie's girlfriends are joining us like two stops over anyway.\"\n\nTheir parents looked mollified at the thought of chaperones.\n\n\"And what about Rayne?\" their mom asked Kris. \"I've heard rumors flying about some young man he's been spotted with a few times now.\"\n\nBrad clenched his fingers around his fork.\n\n\"I don't know that it's anything serious,\" Kris said, keeping his voice even. \"I think it's hard to date on tour. I wouldn't want to try it.\"\n\n\"Well, there'll be plenty of time for that after,\" she said, \"what with you being so successful now. I've seen how the girls scream in the audience, you know, throwing all sorts of things at the stage. Young women will always love a man in a rock band.\"\n\n\"Seen some of the boys screaming too,\" their dad added.\n\nKris coughed and quickly took a drink of water. \"I'm just happy they like the music,\" he choked out.\n\nCassie thumped him on the back without looking up from her plate. \"I'm dating Stef, by the way,\" she said. \"The bassist? You guys met the first day we got here.\"\n\nKris sank deeper into his seat, grateful the attention was off him again. What he needed was to collect himself before his parents asked for any more details about Rayne, or Cal, or anything else.\n\nTheir parents glanced at each other.\n\n\"We'll have to talk to\u2014er,\" their dad began.\n\n\"Them,\" Cassie supplied.\n\n\"It would be nice to get to know them better,\" their mom finished. \"We'll take you both out to dinner before we leave.\"\n\nCassie brightened before glancing at Brad, who thinned his lips but only said, \"Congratulations.\"\n\n\"That would be nice, Mom. I'm sure Stef will like that.\"\n\n\"They definitely won't turn down a free dinner,\" Kris said. \"I didn't know you were actually dating.\"\n\n\"This is a family restaurant, Kris,\" Cassie said. \"We're calling it dating.\"\n\nTheir dad cleared his throat as the waitress returned with fresh coffee. \"Anyone want pie? I'm getting pie.\"\n\nHe and their mom both ordered; Cassie, having already eaten her waffles and most of Kris's pancakes, begged off.\n\nKris jumped at the chance for a minute alone. \"I'm going to go for a walk, see if that'll help my head. I'll meet you back here when you're ready to go, okay? Enjoy the pie.\"\n\nHe headed out to do a few laps around the parking lot, hoping the sun would bake the angst from his brain.\n\nBrad joined him a minute later.\n\n\"Hey,\" he said. \"We got off on the wrong foot the other day. Can we talk?\"\n\nKris squinted at him, then shrugged. It couldn't go worse than their last talk; it definitely couldn't go worse than his talk with Rayne.\n\n\"Jump in the car,\" Brad offered. \"Let's go for a drive.\"\n\nBrad slid into the driver's seat and waited for Kris to buckle up next to him before pulling out onto the highway. It stretched endlessly in either direction, cutting through the rust-colored desert rocks. Brad steered away from the festival, drumming his thumbs against the wheel. Neither of them spoke for the first few minutes. Something with a banjo twanged on the radio.\n\n\"Are you really happy?\" Brad finally asked.\n\nKris didn't know where to begin, but he wasn't going to prove Brad right by saying so. \"Sure I am. You still hung up on how I look onstage?\"\n\n\"You're wearing makeup right now.\"\n\nKris stole a glance in the side mirror. Whatever he'd been wearing last night had smudged around his eyes, making him look more goth than glam.\n\n\"It's hardly drag. So?\"\n\nThe highway lines passed under them in streaks.\n\n\"You and Rayne. Tell me he's never tried anything with you offstage.\"\n\nKris laughed. It sounded unpleasant, even to his ears. \"You trying to protect my virtue, Brad? That's a losing fucking battle, man. I've done more in the past week than I've done in my entire life, and if me and Rayne did do something, what's it to you? We're both adults.\"\n\nBrad's mouth twisted. \"You're still my little brother. I don't like seeing you like this.\"\n\n\"Successful?\" Kris offered. \"Getting paid to make music and hang out with some really cool people I respect and admire?\"\n\n\"It's degrading.\"\n\n\"Sorry, what?\"\n\n\"I'm not saying anyone's forcing you to do anything,\" Brad said, \"but someone's clearly influencing you. Makeup, girls' clothes, letting some gay rub up on you like that\u2014you would never have agreed to any of that before you moved away.\"\n\n\"No shit. You giving Cassie this talk too, or am I just special?\"\n\n\"She's twenty. Every college girl goes through a phase like this; it'll pass. You\u2014you're old enough to know better.\"\n\n\"Wow. Say that to her face\u2014she'll have your balls, man. I wish I'd had half her guts at twenty to be myself.\"\n\n\"Mom and Dad think you can take care of yourself,\" Brad continued, as if Kris hadn't spoken. \"Cassie will always side with you to spite me. But I didn't come all the way out here just to fight with you, Kris.\"\n\n\"No? Why did you come, Brad? Because I don't believe for a second that you missed me. We've barely talked since you went all right wing, and honestly, I was good with that. That was working for me. So what changed? Why are you suddenly pulling this concerned-older-brother crap that we both know is bullshit?\"\n\nBrad's mouth was set in a thin, hard line. \"Did you ever think how your little stage antics would reflect on the rest of us? Dressing up like this, the makeup, the kissing, like you're some kind of sex toy for him to play with up there, while he's fucking some other guy the rest of the time\u2014did you stop and think how that would make the rest of us look?\"\n\n\"Mom and Dad don't care\u2014\" Kris began, and then he stopped. \"I'm embarrassing you.\"\n\nBrad's knuckles whited out around the steering wheel.\n\n\"All your straitlaced conservative friends found out about me, and you freaked.\" Kris barked out a laugh. \"This is pathetic, man! You came all the way out to Nevada to bully me into quitting the band so you could save face with those assholes? Like that was ever going to work. Just get better friends.\"\n\n\"You don't understand anything,\" Brad said coldly, in a tone that meant Kris was exactly right. \"But I want you to know, I'm doing this for your own good.\"\n\nA thread of fear slipped through Kris. They were fifteen minutes out from the diner, and another fifteen after that from the festival. They hadn't passed a single car on the entire drive. \"What are you talking about?\" he asked, fighting to keep his voice level.\n\nBrad pulled onto the shoulder and let the car roll to a halt. \"Consider this an intervention. Give me your phone.\"\n\n\"Like hell!\"\n\n\"Now!\" Brad snapped.\n\n\"Fuck you. I'm calling Mom.\"\n\nKris made it to the second ring before Brad grabbed his wrist and smacked the phone away, sending it clattering to the car floor.\n\n\"Get out of the car,\" Brad said, his hand still wrapped bruisingly hard around Kris's wrist.\n\nKris tried to yank his arm free to no avail. \"You're kidding. You're fucking nuts, Brad. Do you really think this is going to get you anywhere?\"\n\n\"Everything's going to be fine,\" Brad said through gritted teeth. \"Now get out of the goddamn car before I drag you out.\"\n\n\"Fuck you.\"\n\n\"You think you can play guitar with a broken wrist?\" Brad twisted his hand, and Kris's bones ground up against one another until he swore and hit the car door with his free hand.\n\n\"Fine! Fucking\u2014fine. Let go of me.\"\n\nBrad let him go incrementally. His fingers left white marks like bands, which throbbed hotly around Kris's otherwise red wrist. Kris rubbed it as he braced himself against the door and squared his shoulders. \"Asshole.\"\n\nBrad growled and before Kris could defend himself, lunged over like a juggernaut to force the passenger side door open, undo the seat belt, and shove Kris out to land on his ass on the road.\n\n\"What the fuck!\" Kris scrambled to his feet, but Brad had already pulled the door closed again and locked it.\n\n\"I'm telling Rayne you want out,\" Brad said through the window, retrieving Kris's phone from under the seat.\n\n\"He'll never believe you.\"\n\n\"I'm texting it from your phone. I'm not an idiot; I know you two fought earlier. He'll believe it if you're the one who says so. And then you can move on with your life, and forget this whole dumb stunt ever happened. Go back to acting like a man again.\" He rolled the window down far enough to toss a water bottle into the dust at Kris's feet. \"Somebody will pick you up before you starve to death. You'll thank me for this, one day.\"\n\n\"Fuck you,\" Kris said. \"Fuck you with a giant fucking chainsaw, Brad, I swear to god, if you drive away\u2014\"\n\nBrad drove off before Kris could finish the threat, a spurt of dust exploding from the back tires and, to add insult to injury, sending Kris into a coughing fit that only made his lingering headache worse.\n\nThe car disappeared from sight, heading toward the diner where the rest of his family waited. He wondered what Brad would tell them.\n\n\"Lying bastard asshole.\"\n\nNo one replied.\n\nOnce Leif put his plan to recover the Avatar in motion, it was easy. According to the grapevine, it was The Chokecherries who had stolen it, so all he had to do was go to them to get it back. He knew the band; he had been to enough festivals to have encountered them prior to Purple Sage, and Rayne Bakshi stood out even among the throngs of music artists and crowds of partiers. Finding the band wouldn't be an issue. Convincing them to return the Avatar without getting security involved would be a greater challenge, but Leif had a plan for that as well.\n\n\"Travis, would you like to do a favor for the All-Seeing God?\"\n\nTravis nodded fervently. He wasn't ideal as far as new order members went\u2014he was too skittish, too twitchy, and too strung out for Leif's liking, but Leif had worked with worse before. Travis seemed curious about the order, and most importantly, eager to please.\n\n\"I want you to go to the north edge of the grounds and create a diversion. As loud and as riotous as you can manage.\"\n\nTravis's eyes lit up and he nodded again, even more frantically this time. \"I can do that. What kind of diversion do you need?\"\n\n\"Something big enough to distract the festival security. All of them. Can you do that?\"\n\n\"Hell yeah. I know a guy with fireworks\u2014give me ten minutes and it's done.\" He hesitated, seemingly on the brink of running off to find the guy in question. \"And after, you'll introduce me to your god, right? You'll let me talk to Him?\"\n\n\"If you do this well, you'll be one of us,\" Leif promised.\n\nTravis's face split in a grin, and he bounded away to wreak havoc on the north side, leaving Leif and the rest of the order to find Calloway.\n\nIt wasn't difficult. All Leif had to do was walk and let the All-Seeing God guide his steps. Fifteen minutes later he found Calloway at his stage, his hair shining like a golden beacon in the sun where he sat under the great sweeping banner that called people to worship him and his band. Leif had been a little disappointed when he'd learned of Dead Generation; Cal had always been a good disciple, and to find he'd thrown the order aside for a taste of fame still sat uncomfortably.\n\nRed, Boar, and Rikki followed Leif like great loping shadows, awaiting instruction. Rikki had been reluctant to rejoin them, and he'd soon leave the order one way or another. Leif was willing enough to let him go peacefully, especially now that Travis was primed to take his place, but Red's temper was shortening by the day, and Boar had never liked the boy. It was doubtful he'd be allowed to go without some bloodshed.\n\nHe put it from his mind and stepped into Calloway's line of sight. The man froze like a rabbit, and they stared at each other for a long moment. A cluster of security personnel at the far edge of the stage kept an eye on them but didn't move to intervene.\n\n\"Leif,\" Cal finally croaked. \"What are you\u2014\"\n\n\"Don't bother calling for help,\" Leif warned. \"Security will be busy elsewhere in a minute. This will be easier if you cooperate.\"\n\nOn cue, the nearest security officer's radio screeched to life, and he frowned, raising it to his ear as the person on the other end said something about \"a disruption\" between sharp bursts of static. The officer nodded to his fellows and they took off at a run, heading north.\n\nCalloway glanced around furtively before edging closer and dropping his voice. \"Why are you here?\"\n\n\"The Avatar is missing and you know where it is.\"\n\nCal looked panicked. \"No, I don't.\"\n\n\"The Chokecherries have been bringing a peacock to their shows. You know Rayne Bakshi. You're going to take me to him to help negotiate its return.\"\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about,\" Cal insisted, but his eyes gave him away.\n\nLeif stepped forward and Cal scrambled back, but not quickly enough\u2014catching him by the forearm, Leif dragged him in close.\n\n\"You're coming with me,\" he growled, \"and you're going to ensure this negotiation goes smoothly for everyone involved. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Why can't you talk to him yourself?\"\n\n\"Because I don't want to escalate things if I don't have to.\" They both briefly eyed Red and Boar. \"He trusts you. He's more likely to return the Avatar if you ask than if I do, and then no one has to get hurt.\"\n\nCal hesitated before finally nodding, dropping off the stage to take his place at Leif's side. Leif kept his grip firm around Cal's arm and set off through the festival without looking back.\n\n\"Slow down,\" Cal hissed, stumbling in his efforts to keep up. \"If you're trying not to look suspicious\u2014\"\n\n\"I don't care why they've stolen it,\" Leif said as he walked, ignoring Calloway's protests entirely. \"I don't care what they were thinking. We need the Avatar back; I don't have to tell you its importance. Once we have it, we'll let His Serene Majesty decide their fate.\"\n\n\"I'm sure this is all a huge misunderstanding,\" Cal said, trying in vain to pull his arm from Leif's grasp. Leif tightened his grip until Calloway's bones shifted under his fingers, and Cal stopped struggling. \"Maybe the bird just wandered off on its own.\"\n\nRed and Boar scoffed from behind them, and Leif paused long enough to level a truly fearsome glower in Cal's direction. Cal shrank back and shut his mouth.\n\n\"We're going to The Chokecherries. If you try any tricks, I'll make you regret them.\"\n\nCal nodded, eyes downcast, and pointed in the direction to go. Leif nodded stonily. They walked in silence, and whenever Calloway looked like he might try to lead Leif astray, Leif tightened his grip until Cal got back in line. Calloway might have left the order, but he wasn't stupid; he knew the All-Seeing God's power, and he knew Leif wasn't so easily fooled.\n\n\"What are you going to do to them?\" Calloway asked in muted tones.\n\n\"Whatever His Serene Majesty dictates, as always.\"\n\nTruth be told, Leif had no interest in punishing those who had stolen the Avatar any more than would mollify Boar and Red. He was growing tired\u2014not of his god, nor of caring for the Avatar, but of the never-ending parade of festivals and acolytes, spreading the word day after day to countless unbelievers. It was exhausting, and after so many years, it was beginning to take its toll. He wanted to retire, and care for the Avatar in peace. Maybe he would rent another little trailer, somewhere he could sleep every night and call home, eating ramen and drinking beer and letting someone else preach about the wonders of the universe.\n\nBut Boar and Red were still fervent in their faith, and they would demand retribution for this slight. All Leif wanted was to keep them content so they would leave him be.\n\nUnfortunately for The Chokecherries, what kept them most content was violence.\n\nCalloway led Leif and his ragtag order to The Chokecherries' bus, and there he stopped, digging his heels into the earth. \"I don't want any part of this. I never wished you any ill will when I left, Leif.\"\n\nLeif inclined his head. That was true, despite the hurt he'd felt at the time.\n\n\"I have a career now,\" Cal continued, his voice pleading. \"I have the chance to really make something of myself. I can't\u2014 I'll do anything to keep that alive. Please, just\u2014\"\n\n\"You'll be fine,\" Leif interrupted, \"as long as you do as I say. You'll find a lot has changed since you left; I have far less patience than I did. But you were a good one; I'd hate for anything to happen to you as a result of this . . . unfortunate incident.\" He gestured to the bus. \"Get your friends.\"\n\nCalloway tugged his arm free, and this time Leif allowed it. Cal crept to the bus door, standing open in the desert heat, and paused to peer up the steps while keeping out of sight from the bus's occupants.\n\n\"I don't see the peacock,\" he whispered.\n\n\"Find out where He is,\" Leif returned. \"Maybe they've hidden Him in one of the bunks.\"\n\nCalloway put one finger to his lips and turned all his attention to the conversation within the bus. Leif followed suit with his arms crossed, waiting one pace back.\n\nRayne Bakshi sat on the bus couch like he'd been shot, staring at his phone with an expression somewhere between shock and heartbroken bafflement. The last time Leif had felt either of those emotions was when he'd woken to find the peacock gone, and it was doubtful the rock star had ever lost anything half as important. He watched as Angel scooted in beside the man and leaned into his shoulder to look at the phone.\n\n\"It's fucking Fink all over again,\" Rayne said.\n\nAngel frowned and took the phone. She read: \"'I've finally had the chance to think things over, and I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sorry I have to do it this way, but I feel it's my only chance to get out. I never should have let you do the things you did, or let things get as far as you took them. Sorry I couldn't give you more notice, but this is best for everyone. Please don't try to get in touch.'\"\n\n\"He's gone,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"You have a show in four hours. He wouldn't bail on that, no matter what happened.\" Angel twisted around to sit cross-legged on the couch and face him. \"But something did happen between you two. You finally hooked up in private, didn't you? He was practically glowing when I saw him this morning.\"\n\n\"We hooked up,\" Rayne admitted. \"We were both so, so drunk. It should never have happened. God, why didn't I listen to Brian? He's going to have a fit when he finds out.\"\n\nCalloway winced in apparent sympathy, and Leif dropped his hand on Cal's shoulder, wordlessly ordering him to focus.\n\n\"Kris didn't look like he regretted it. He looked pretty damn happy about it, from what I could see,\" Angel said.\n\n\"That was before we talked.\"\n\nShe fixed Rayne with a stare so unimpressed that he flinched.\n\n\"I told him I didn't want to be his experimentation project,\" he said. \"Which, if I'd been halfway sober the night before, I would have said in the first place and we could have avoided all this.\"\n\n\"But you didn't.\"\n\n\"Because I got distracted by him kissing me when he didn't have to just for the show,\" Rayne said miserably. \"I was so fucking happy he wanted to, I didn't stop to think it through.\"\n\n\"I've seen the way that boy looks at you,\" Angel said. \"If you think he's using you to experiment, you're fucking blind, honey.\"\n\nRayne seemed unconvinced.\n\n\"Call him if you don't believe me,\" she said.\n\n\"His phone's turned off.\" He pushed his hands through his hair, bleeding distress.\n\n\"Then talk to Cassie. She must know where he went.\"\n\n\"I don't have time for this,\" Leif told Cal in an undertone. \"They haven't mentioned the Avatar once. If you're just stalling\u2014\"\n\n\"I'm not!\" Cal insisted, his voice pitching up.\n\nRayne and Angel froze, looking first at each other and then to the door.\n\n\"I've had enough,\" Red growled, shoving forward to take his place at Leif's side behind Calloway. \"This is a waste of time. We can make them tell us where the Avatar is.\"\n\n\"Don't\u2014\" Cal started, but before Leif could intervene, Red drew his hunting knife from the sheath at his hip.\n\n\"Red\u2014\" Leif began warningly, but it was too late: Cal broke away from the others and bounded up the bus steps to slam into the driver's seat.\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" he gasped. \"I didn't want to bring them here. You have to get away\u2014\"\n\nRed's shadow stretched up the steps and into the bus ahead of him, the knife's blade long and glinting dully in his fist. \"Rayne Bakshi,\" he said, the sun reflecting off the knife and his shaved skull like a twin spotlight. \"You've stolen something important from us, and we're going to take it back.\"\n\nLeif rubbed his hand over his face and took a fortifying breath. Things were escalating very quickly.\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" Calloway repeated. He had Rayne by the arm, guiding him quickly through the grounds as Leif and the rest of the order followed behind. Rikki held Angel in a similar way, and Leif watched her in case she chose to launch another handbag-based assault, and Rikki in case his fraying loyalty finally broke and he abandoned the order once and for all. Leif saw the way he looked at the woman, like she had hung the stars and the sun. It was how he should be looking at the Avatar.\n\nBut Angel didn't seem to like her chances against the entire order at once, not now that they had their knives out, and let Rikki guide her, however begrudgingly.\n\n\"They found me,\" Cal was saying in a strained whisper Leif chose to ignore. \"They knew you had the bird, and they said\u2014 I couldn't risk it. I'm not with them anymore, I swear I'm not, and I never told them anything, but they knew.\"\n\n\"What are you even talking about?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"We're getting the rest of your band,\" Red cut in. \"We tried this your way,\" he added, turning to Leif, \"using Calloway as a negotiator, and he betrayed us. So now we do it like this.\"\n\n\"I didn't betray anyone!\" Cal snapped. \"You pulled a knife! Everything would have been fine\u2014\"\n\n\"Am I being held hostage?\" Rayne demanded.\n\n\"No!\" Cal said. \"Well, technically, yes, a bit. Please cooperate. I don't like this any more than you do.\"\n\n\"This is insane,\" Rayne said, but no one paid him any attention.\n\nFestival security had all but disappeared, presumably converging on the north side of the grounds where Travis was providing his distraction, leaving Leif, the order, and their hostages to move through the festival unimpeded. When they encountered Rayne's personal security guard, Rayne asked him through gritted teeth to fetch something from the far side of the festival grounds. Though Rayne was clearly banking on him to see it for the wild-goose chase that it was, the guard ambled off agreeably. Leif took it as a sign that luck was still on his side, despite Red's mutiny, and smiled grimly to himself. It was the kind of smile that made other people back away nervously and avoid eye contact.\n\nAfter that it was a simple matter of rounding up the remaining Chokecherries and their opening act. The order steered them at knifepoint with unerring finality into an empty tent at the southernmost border of the festival, as far from Travis and the security personnel as possible. Red had Cal by the scruff of his shirt, his knife held up warningly the entire time, while Boar took up the rear, looming mountainously as he shepherded the captives along. Rikki kept his hand on Angel's arm, and no matter how she glared at him, he ducked his head and refused to meet her eye.\n\nThe order deposited them in the tent and herded them into the center, where a large pole was erected like something out of an old Western, and tied their hands behind their backs, tethering them to the pole in prisoners-of-war style. Calloway was tied up alongside them; he would never rejoin the order, especially not after this debacle, and Leif had no further use for him. By the time the order was done securing everyone, both bands were accounted for, with the exception of Kris Golding, Stef Morganstern, and the new girl with Passionfruit.\n\n\"I feel like we're missing some really important context here,\" Billie said, his voice slightly strangled despite his calm words.\n\n\"We are the Worshippers of His Serene Majesty, the Incandescent and All-Seeing God,\" Leif said, drawing on every ounce of his poetic theatricality as he wrestled control of the situation back from Red, \"and you have stolen His Avatar.\"\n\n\"Um,\" said Billie.\n\n\"What the fuck,\" said Jay.\n\n\"Rayne,\" said one of the captives, in a deliberately calm voice, like the sea before the storm, \"can you explain?\" He was the only one Leif didn't recognize: middle-aged, beleaguered, and obviously not a performer. He must be Bakshi's manager, Brian.\n\n\"Oh my god,\" said Rayne. \"It's the fucking peacock.\"\n\nRed and Boar visibly bristled, and Leif raised his hand to hush them.\n\n\"You don't speak of His Serene Majesty in those tones,\" Red hissed, ignoring him.\n\n\"The bird,\" Brian repeated. \"The one Kris found the other night.\"\n\n\"That's the one,\" Rayne confirmed.\n\n\"Well, give it back so I can return to civilization and press kidnapping and unlawful confinement charges.\"\n\n\"I don't have it! Do I look like I have a peacock on me right now? He's probably wandering around outside somewhere, like he was when Kris found him.\"\n\n\"You should try keeping your Serene God on a leash next time,\" Jay suggested to the order. \"Since this seems to be an ongoing problem.\"\n\nBoar glowered and Red stepped forward, brandishing his knife as if he intended to gut his captive then and there. Jay flinched back even as he curled his lip in a snarl, and the rest of the hostages went rigid.\n\n\"You shut your mouth, boy,\" Red warned, the blade dangerously close to Jay's throat. \"Or I'll shut it for you.\"\n\n\"Jay, shut the fuck up,\" Billie whispered frantically.\n\nLeif wondered, not for the first time, whether he could actually hold Red and Boar back if they decided to kill their hostages. They had never killed anyone before\u2014not in the time Leif had known them, at least\u2014but then, no one had ever stolen their Avatar before, either. The Avatar gave their lives meaning, and Leif realized, watching them loom over the hostages, just how far they were willing to go to protect that meaning. He sighed and wished again that he had never told anyone about the peacock at all.\n\n\"Rayne, I swear to god, if I die in here, I am holding you personally responsible,\" Angel hissed to her companion.\n\n\"Nobody's dying!\" Brian said loudly.\n\n\"How is any of this my fault?\" Rayne demanded.\n\n\"Kris brings you a peacock and you don't question where he got it?\"\n\n\"Are you saying I should have assumed it was attached to a cult? And you,\" he added, twisting in his ropes to face Calloway. \"You knew! Why didn't you warn us?\"\n\n\"There are lots of peacocks in the world,\" Calloway said under his breath. \"I couldn't be sure it was the same one. I told Kris to be careful\u2014\"\n\n\"Where is Kris, anyway?\" Brian interrupted.\n\nLeif and the order frowned.\n\n\"He left,\" said Rayne.\n\n\"For brunch,\" Brian said slowly.\n\n\"The band.\"\n\nBrian's face went white, then red, and a vein in his forehead throbbed like it was going to burst. For an instant Leif was less worried about the hostages meeting their end by Red and Boar's hands, and more worried about the health of the band's manager.\n\n\"He has a contract,\" Brian said, still speaking with deliberate slowness, as if he could put the universe back in order through sheer force of will alone.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Rayne said, his misery evident in his voice. \"I know you warned me\u2014\"\n\n\"We'll talk later,\" Brian said.\n\n\"This Kris is the one who stole the Avatar,\" Leif said, hauling the conversation back under control.\n\n\"He didn't know it was the avatar,\" Calloway said quickly. \"He just thought it was a fancy bird. He didn't mean anything by it.\"\n\nLeif silenced him with a look. \"Then why did he steal it?\"\n\n\"He wanted to show me,\" Rayne said. \"He thought I'd like it. And he was high as balls, but, uh.\" He glanced at Brian. \"I don't think that's a legal defense.\"\n\nBrian shook his head.\n\n\"This is insulting,\" Boar said. \"His Serene Majesty the All-Seeing God should smite you for this.\"\n\n\"Let him fucking try it,\" Jay said. \"You'd think he would've done it already, though. Since we stole his avatar and everything.\"\n\n\"Please stop antagonizing the cult,\" Billie said.\n\n\"They ain't shit.\"\n\nRed stepped in and dealt Jay a vicious backhanded blow across the face, snapping his head to the side as the rest of the hostages burst out in yells, struggling against their ropes. Jay glared and jutted his chin out like he was actually going to fight the order from the floor with no hands.\n\nLeif rubbed his temples and wished he were high enough to deal with this calmly. When they got out of this, he was going to try switching Red and Boar from psychedelics to sedatives for a while.\n\nAs Jay and the others continued to bait Red and Boar, shouting increasingly derogatory things about their god, Brian cleared his throat and Leif circled around to him to begin negotiations. After a few minutes it became apparent that the man had no concept of the peacock's importance to either the order or the All-Seeing God, so Leif dismissed him to turn his attention back to Rayne.\n\n\"Ah,\" said the rock star. \"Yeah, you missed a bit.\"\n\nLeif stared. There was an empty space beside him where Angel had previously been sitting, and she and Rikki were nowhere to be seen. The ropes had been hacked away\u2014Rikki's switchblade, Leif realized belatedly. No one had thought to disarm him, despite his obviously wavering allegiance. A long slice in the side of the tent's canvas confirmed their escape.\n\n\"Yeah, you dumb fucks,\" Jay crowed from the other side of the pole. \"That was worth a black eye, right?\"\n\nRed aimed a kick at him but Jay just laughed. He sounded slightly manic.\n\n\"Oh, for fuck's sake,\" said Leif.\n\nKris kept up a steady litany of curses under his breath as he trudged back toward the festival, his shoulders set and his jaw squared. The sun was deathly hot and the highway stretched bare, disappearing over the horizon into the eternity of rocky orange desert on either side. It would be pretty if he weren't so fucking furious. He tried to calculate the distance in his head\u2014over half an hour by car, on the highway\u2014and when he might reach the festival grounds. Whatever fuckery Brad was causing, The Chokecherries had a show at four, and it was already half past one.\n\nKris didn't like his chances.\n\nAlso, his math was telling him it was going to take eight hours to walk back, and that didn't sound right, but he couldn't check the numbers because Brad had stolen his fucking phone.\n\nHe was going to throttle Brad with his bare hands when he finally caught up to him.\n\nA car engine rumbled in the distance, and he flung himself into the road in his haste to flag it down. It slowed to a crawl as it drew up alongside him, pulling over to the shoulder and rolling the window down.\n\n\"Hey, Kris. You need a ride?\"\n\nKris squinted and pushed his hair back to make sure he wasn't looking at a mirage. Tom smiled at him from inside the car, leaning over to wave as Kris panted in the sun.\n\n\"Fuck, please. It's an emergency.\"\n\nKris stumbled into the car and slammed the door shut behind him, gulping down his now-lukewarm water while Tom watched in consternation.\n\n\"You okay?\"\n\nKris wiped his mouth, shook his head, then nodded. \"I need to get back to the festival. My brother's sabotaging my career and Rayne thinks I hate him, which I don't, but he might hate me. I don't know. I need to fix everything. Can you drive me back?\"\n\nTom looked taken aback, but he adjusted the rearview mirror and set his hands back on the wheel. \"Sure, of course.\" He pulled onto the road and Kris sank into his seat. Tom glanced at him before cranking the air-conditioning. \"Tough day, huh?\"\n\n\"Understatement. But I'll make it work. I'll talk to Rayne\u2014everything will be fine. Or, at least\u2014almost fine. Manageable, anyway.\"\n\n\"That's a good start,\" Tom said encouragingly. \"Is there anything I can do?\"\n\n\"Honestly, just being in the right place at the right time like that was the most I could ask for. If you hadn't picked me up, I don't know where I'd be.\"\n\n\"It's dangerous to hitchhike. I always want to believe in the best in everyone, but you hear stories about girls\u2014 Well. I'm sure you've heard them.\"\n\n\"Lucky me it was you, then.\"\n\nThey drove in silence for another mile.\n\n\"So is Rayne your boyfriend?\" Tom asked eventually. \"I only ask because what you said earlier\u2014 Well, it sounds like relationship troubles. I don't mean to pry.\"\n\n\"Seems Rayne's love life is all anybody wants to talk about.\"\n\n\"Sorry. Forget I asked.\"\n\n\"No, it's okay.\" Kris took a deep breath, scrubbed his hand over his face, and confessed everything in a single exhalation. \"You've seen our shows. You know what we do onstage. Up until last night, that was all we did\u2014and then I pushed for more because I got tangled up in feelings for him, but I didn't have the balls to say it without a drink first, so he didn't take me seriously. He's fake-dating somebody else for the publicity but now he's talking about doing it for real, and if he does, I've lost my chance to convince him I'm not just messing around. Everything's fallen apart, and I don't know how to fix it. I wouldn't know how to fix it even without my brother interfering. God knows what he said to Rayne.\" He sucked his next breath in with a gasp of relief. It was easier to talk to a stranger than a friend, and anyway, wasn't that the whole point of a priest? \"And now he thinks I've pulled the same shit on him that his heroin-addict ex-guitarist did earlier\u2014fucking around and then quitting the band\u2014which is the furthest thing from the truth!\u2014but I need to tell him that so he believes me.\"\n\n\"I'm sure it's not as bad as you imagine,\" Tom offered. \"Things rarely are.\"\n\n\"I'm in love with him, you know.\"\n\n\"I guessed,\" Tom said. \"I'm not blind. I hoped you might\u2014 But I guessed.\"\n\n\"I should have told him I was bi right from the start, but it's so stupid\u2014I was scared, you know? For no reason. It's not like anything would have happened to me. Even my parents . . .\" His parents would be fine with it. They'd always been decent about that stuff, if not necessarily vocal in their support. \"When you get ordained and you start preaching and stuff, promise you'll never say anything to make people scared of coming out? Not even accidentally. Because it gets right inside your head, man, so that even when you know nothing bad's going to happen, you're still nervous to do it, years later on the other side of the country. And it sucks.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" Tom said, and crossed himself with a painfully earnest expression. \"No, I would never. No one deserves that.\"\n\nKris stared out the window. The desert stretched on and on, like a green screen on a loop in a cheap movie. \"I don't know about God, but somebody's been playing a hell of a joke on me since I touched down in New York.\"\n\n\"The Lord works in mysterious ways. What else can I say? I feel like I should have more answers if I'm going to be a priest and offer guidance, but I don't. I'm not sure what that says about my calling.\" Tom shrugged helplessly. \"All we can do is our best.\"\n\nKris tapped his fingers against the door. His nail polish was chipping; he should fix that when he got back to the bus. There was something soothing about dragging the brush over each nail, one by one. Angel had been right about the calm a makeup ritual could bring.\n\n\"I'm not a girl,\" Kris said.\n\nTom blinked.\n\n\"Since we're confessing shit,\" Kris added. \"I thought you should know.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Tom said, after a minute. \"You just said you were bi, and I didn't realize\u2014now I feel a bit silly, but okay.\"\n\n\"You seriously thought\u2014\"\n\n\"I met you in the White Rabbit. I assumed you were one of those, you know, punky androgynous girls. I was tipsy. You never corrected me.\"\n\n\"Sorry. I found it kind of flattering at the time. I was figuring some stuff out. Are you mad?\"\n\n\"I wish you'd said something sooner, but no. Getting mad never makes anyone feel better about anything.\"\n\n\"I like that,\" Kris said thoughtfully. \"That's a good philosophy. Sorry if I, like, embarrassed you.\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had worse. I can absolve you though, if you like,\" Tom offered. \"Not officially. I'm not sworn in yet. But I think, as far as misdeeds go, your brother's outstrips yours by a long shot. There's no sin in wanting to feel loved.\"\n\n\"I hope not,\" Kris said. The highway in front of them shimmered in the heat, and he held his breath, waiting for the festival grounds to roll into sight.\n\nKris threw himself from the car before Tom had it in park, and made a beeline for the buses. He'd make it up to Tom later\u2014a bottle of wine, the really nice stuff, or expensive chocolates or\u2014something. A house, maybe. He'd figure it out later.\n\nThe buses were empty.\n\nHe tried the stage next, anxious but not alarmed yet. When the stage was empty too, his anxiety started to solidify into a rock in the bottom of his stomach, and he had to tell himself in no uncertain terms that Brad hadn't convinced both bands to pack up and leave altogether. He poked around the back of the stage, peering into the shadows and skirting the edges of the dressing room, when he heard Angel from outside, her voice unusually raised, shout, \"You kidnapped us!\" Kris wheeled around to follow the sound.\n\n\"You held us hostage like a bunch of thugs!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" A second voice, softer\u2014Rikki. \"They said\u2014 I didn't know how to stand up to them. They just want the Avatar back.\"\n\n\"It's a bird,\" Angel said flatly. \"Get another one.\"\n\n\"That's not\u2014\"\n\n\"Nope. You telling me one bird is worth all our lives?\"\n\nKris rounded the next tent, trying to figure out what the hell they were talking about.\n\n\"I'm getting security if I have to drag them here kicking and screaming, and this is all going to be over,\" Angel said. \"No birds, no hostages\u2014\"\n\nKris caught sight of them by a tower of scaffolding between two empty stages a few yards off and veered toward them.\n\n\"You can't call the cops!\" Rikki blurted. \"We'll all get arrested.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Please don't send me to jail.\" Rikki was still, his eyes downcast except to sneak glances up every now and then, shining and hopeful and full of regret. Angel opened her mouth to reply, but Kris interrupted before she got the chance.\n\n\"Angel!\"\n\n\"You!\" She smacked his arm as soon as he came into reach, then grabbed his hand and gave him a relieved squeeze.\n\n\"Me. Where is everybody? And did Rayne get a weird text from me earlier saying I quit the band?\"\n\nAngel narrowed her eyes. \"He did. You've got some explaining to do, but it'll have to wait. The skinhead cult is holding the bands hostage in a tent and security's tied up dealing with some nutcase who started a fire on the far side. Apparently he's barricaded himself on a stage with a bunch of fireworks and is trying to incite a riot. Where's that damn peacock you stole the other day? The cult wants it back.\"\n\n\"Sorry, what part of that requires less explanation than a text?\"\n\nShe took him by the arm and dragged him along through the tents, intent in her direction. \"The peacock. They want it. Badly. They call themselves The Worshippers of His Serene Majesty, the Incandescent and All-Seeing God. That peacock? That's their god. And you went and stole the thing because you thought Rayne would think it was pretty. Which he did, and it is, but oh my god. And Rikki defected and helped me escape, which is the only reason I'm not throwing him to the wolves right now.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Kris said. \"Awesome. Hi, Rikki. And I didn't steal the peacock\u2014I just picked him up and carried him around for a while. It's not like he was locked up on private property.\"\n\n\"He likes to wander,\" Rikki said. \"Leif said it would be degrading to keep Him in a cage, since He's a god and everything.\"\n\n\"Uh,\" said Kris. \"Do you believe he's a god?\"\n\nRikki shuffled uncomfortably.\n\n\"He's still thinking about it,\" Angel supplied.\n\n\"I mean, I know He's not literally a god,\" Rikki said. \"But Leif and the others were always really sure about it . . .\"\n\n\"Crisis of faith later,\" Kris decided. \"Where are they? It's three against three now, right? We can bust them out.\"\n\nAngel looked skeptical, but nodded anyway.\n\n\"They'll have noticed we're missing by now,\" Rikki said, \"but they can't do anything about it if they want to keep guarding the others. Do you have any weapons?\"\n\n\"What? No, I don't have any weapons. Just\u2014 Take me to the tent, and we'll try to bluff them into giving up. Unless you think we can fight them,\" he added. He didn't know how to fight, but he could try.\n\n\"Let's try to avoid that, if possible,\" Angel said. \"They've got knives.\"\n\n\"They have knives? This is insane. This is a terrible plan.\" Kris's voice pitched higher, and he tried to tamp down on it before it evolved into full-fledged hysterics. \"Rikki, I'm sorry, but I'd rather you get arrested than anybody get stabbed.\"\n\n\"That's okay,\" Rikki said. \"I have a knife too, if that helps.\"\n\n\"Rikki's right, though,\" Angel admitted grudgingly. \"Cops aren't the best idea. They'll want to do things by the book: bring in backup and a hostage negotiator, the whole nine yards. That gives Leif and his friends too much time to get stabby if they panic. Besides which, the cops will take too damn long to get here.\"\n\nKris pushed both hands through his hair, aware he was exuding stress all the way into outer space. We're not going to die at the hands of a bunch of stab-happy bird enthusiasts, he told himself sternly. Who even needs cops? Or backup? Fuck. He took a deep breath. \"Okay. Let's go. Aim for minimal bloodshed.\"\n\nAngel led them through the festival to the tent in question. The cult's motorcycles were parked outside, hulking like shiny black beasts awaiting their masters' return. Boar stood outside the entrance, apparently watching for any passersby who strayed too near. Angel, Rikki, and Kris crept up from the side, ducking behind whatever cover they could find.\n\n\"We got out there,\" Rikki said, pointing to the slice in the side of the tent. \"We can get back in that way, unless you want to fight Boar.\"\n\n\"His name is Boar?\" Kris asked. \"Jesus Christ. No, I'm not fighting a skinhead named Boar. Let's sneak in.\"\n\nThey slunk up to the side of the tent and Rikki crawled through first, his muscles bunching as he fought to keep quiet. Angel slipped through after him, with Kris following on her heels, wondering how the hell his life had come to this.\n\nRed was waiting for them, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.\n\n\"Ah, shit,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Kris?\" Rayne said. Kris couldn't see him around Red, but Passionfruit, The Chokecherries, and Cal were huddled around the center pole, sitting on the floor, tied up and looking so ridiculous that Kris did a double take.\n\n\"Hey, Rayne,\" he said. \"Bad timing, but we have to talk later.\"\n\n\"No talking,\" Red growled.\n\nRikki pulled his knife.\n\n\"No!\" Angel shouted. \"Nope. No knives. Rikki, put it down.\"\n\n\"You little punk,\" Red said. \"You think you can pull a knife on me? I'll take you apart with my bare hands.\"\n\nAngel jerked Rikki's arm down. \"Nope. Nobody's pulling any knives or fighting anybody. Rikki, stop it.\"\n\n\"But we have to\u2014\"\n\n\"No,\" she stressed.\n\nRed smacked the knife out of Rikki's hand like a bear swatting a fly. \"Traitor. You can join the others.\"\n\n\"Wait!\" Kris shouted. Everyone stopped. \"Wait. This is about the peacock, right? I'm the one who stole him; it's me you want. Let everyone else go and I'll get him back for you.\"\n\n\"That's not good enough,\" Red said. Boar lingered in the tent entrance, near enough to hear the conversation while still keeping a lookout. Leif watched them, weary looking and exasperated. \"If you'd returned Him after an hour, maybe we could let this affront go, but it's been days. The All-Seeing God deserves a sacrifice to right this insult.\" Red glanced at Boar and Leif. Boar nodded enthusiastically; Leif very deliberately shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.\n\n\"What?\" Cal cut in. \"We've never sacrificed people!\"\n\n\"We do now.\" Boar frowned. \"The All-Seeing God needs to know these people are sorry.\"\n\n\"We're sorry!\" Kris yelled. \"Jesus, don't\u2014 It's just a fucking bird!\"\n\nThat was, of course, the wrong thing to say, Kris reflected as Red dragged him to the pole and knotted his hands behind him. Diplomacy had never been his strongest suit, especially not when people were threatening to sacrifice him and all his friends to a glorified feather duster. Maybe that was something he should work on, now that he was living in the public eye.\n\n\"Hey, Rayne,\" he said glumly. He was tied up in between Rayne and Cal. It was sweltering in the tent, pressed up against so many other bodies, all of them sweating from stress and making the enclosed space more humid than the desert had any right to be.\n\n\"Hey, Kris,\" Rayne returned, his tone carefully unemotional. \"You came back.\"\n\n\"I never left. My brother\u2014\"\n\n\"Stop talking,\" Leif ordered.\n\nKris obeyed, but leaned his shoulder against Rayne's in a silent bid for understanding. After a second, Rayne leaned back.\n\nIt was a start.\n\nThere were few things worse, Kris decided, than listening to three giant skinheads discuss whether or not they were going to kill you, when you were tied up with no hope of escape. The prospect of dying without knowing how Rayne felt about him was one of those few things.\n\n\"We need to talk,\" Kris repeated under his breath, while the cultists argued back and forth about whether or not to kill them.\n\n\"I'm listening,\" Rayne said. \"It's not like I have anywhere to be, after all.\"\n\n\"Whatever that text said, it wasn't me.\"\n\nRayne tilted his head. They were trying not to look at each other in case their conversation became obvious, but the tension between them was palpable.\n\n\"It said you regretted everything, you should have stopped me before we went so far, and you were leaving the band,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"That was Brad.\"\n\n\"Why was Brad texting me from your phone?\" Rayne asked, his tone suspicious but his face bewildered.\n\n\"He stole it and kicked me out of the car. The point is, it's not true. Did you seriously think I was just going to run out on you guys like that?\"\n\n\"No? But the things he said\u2014\"\n\n\"He made them up, because he's a lying bastard who lies!\" Kris said, louder than he meant to. The cult paused in their conference and stared at them. \"And you guys,\" Kris continued. \"I thought my biggest challenge today was going to be stopping Brad from imploding my career, but you really blew it out of the park, didn't you?\"\n\n\"Don't antagonize them,\" Cal muttered.\n\n\"Fuck antagonizing them! I've had a shitty day since I got up. I didn't need to be kidnapped on top of that. Fucking peacock cults, what the fuck? Why didn't you warn us when you saw I brought the bird back? You were all vague and unhelpful\u2014how was I supposed to guess the peacock was from a goddamn cult? You never said a thing!\"\n\n\"I didn't think they were going to do this!\" Cal protested. \"I couldn't know for sure about the peacock, and if it was a different one, I didn't want to cause trouble for no reason, not with the label already taking a chance on me\u2014\"\n\n\"Cults are more important than your music career! Jesus. I'm out. If they want a human sacrifice, fucking kill me already, man. Put me out of misery. I'm ready. I'm done.\"\n\nLeif shifted uncomfortably. \"It's not human sacrifice. It's\u2014\"\n\n\"Justice,\" Red cut in. \"The All-Seeing God needs justice, so it's only right\u2014\"\n\n\"That we give Him an offering worthy of His Serene Majesty,\" Boar explained.\n\n\"And you're not,\" Red added.\n\nKris felt irrationally offended. \"Then who is?\"\n\nThe cult turned to Rayne.\n\nThe tent broke out in a cacophony of shouts from the hostages, all at once.\n\n\"You can't sacrifice him!\" Kris shouted above the din, grappling desperately for any excuse, no matter how outlandish. \"He's the chosen one!\"\n\nThe tent fell silent like someone had pulled the power cord.\n\n\"That's why I took the bird,\" Kris said, talking slowly as he tried to invent a story out of thin air. \"Because your god chose Rayne as the next . . . prophet.\"\n\nCal and Rikki stared at him with huge eyes.\n\n\"You're lying,\" Leif said.\n\n\"No, I'm not! Rayne, show them\u2014show them the peacock tattoo!\"\n\nRayne looked at him wildly. \"Right. That's right, I have a peacock tattoo.\" He bent forward as far as the ropes would allow, not that anyone could see anything though his mane of hair.\n\nLeif stepped forward, a frown marring his brow, to grab Rayne by the back of the neck and push his hair aside. The mandala was plain to see against his skin, even crisscrossed by the necklaces. Red and Boar crowded in to see, and all three of them stood there for a minute while Rayne, still bent double, waited, looking increasingly nervous.\n\n\"See?\" Kris said. \"That's a sign! You can't deny that's a sign.\"\n\n\"That doesn't mean\u2014\" Boar began.\n\n\"Yes, it does!\" Kris shouted.\n\nOn cue, an eerie scream went up from outside the tent, and the cult froze like they'd been electrocuted.\n\n\"See?\" Kris insisted.\n\nLeif let go of Rayne's head and Rayne reared up just in time for Freddie Mercury to come flying into the tent like divine retribution, screaming the whole time and pushing the cultists aside to land in Rayne's lap in a whirlwind of feathers and talons.\n\n\"Look,\" Angel cut in. \"Your god is beauty incarnate, right? So who's a better earthly incarnation of beauty than Rayne Bakshi?\"\n\n\"He's literally perfect,\" Kris added. \"The peacock knows it. Do you want to risk the wrath of the All-Seeing God by flouting his will like this?\"\n\nLeif, still frowning, stepped forward, flicking his knife out. Everyone on the floor flinched. The peacock flared his wings warningly, but Leif only knelt, reached around, and cut Rayne's rope. He drew Rayne to his feet\u2014Rayne was shaky, but drew himself up tall\u2014and studied him up and down as if examining a prime cut at the butcher's.\n\nRayne kicked Kris surreptitiously in the ankle in an obvious bid to know the plan. Kris winced and then shrugged. Freddie, devoid of lap in which to sit, began screaming again.\n\nLike flipping a switch, Rayne cleared his throat and donned his stage persona like a robe.\n\n\"Your god is moving up in the world,\" he said, his voice low and smooth. It wasn't the voice of a hostage bargaining for his life: it was the voice of someone who held all the cards, and knew how to play them. \"He wants to be admired by more than just four people. He wants to be adored by millions. That's why he chose me\u2014I'm already loved the world over.\"\n\n\"But we've done everything He ever wanted,\" Red said plaintively. \"Aren't we good enough anymore?\"\n\n\"You did wonderfully,\" Rayne soothed, his voice like honey, \"and you'll be rewarded for it. He's not dismissing you. This is just the next step of his plans.\"\n\n\"But He should have told us His plans,\" Boar protested. \"We would have carried them out for Him.\"\n\nRayne straightened up another inch and glared. The cult took an involuntary step back.\n\n\"He should have?\" Rayne demanded. \"Maybe he thought you were getting too presumptuous; maybe that's why he left you. He's in me, now. I'm All-Seeing, and if you claim to worship me, prove it. Otherwise, I'll leave you here in the desert and find worthier acolytes.\" He glanced down at Kris, who nodded encouragingly. \"I have the tattoo.\"\n\nThe cult nodded, slowly.\n\n\"You saw how Freddie\u2014how the avatar came to me.\"\n\nThey murmured among themselves in quiet agreement.\n\n\"Have you ever seen anyone more beautiful than me?\"\n\nA frown and a ripple of debate.\n\n\"Have you?\" Rayne demanded, steelier this time.\n\nKris was biased, but still, he couldn't see how they could deny it. From Rayne's dark complexion and the way his skin held the warmth of the sun like a jewel, to the sea-glass color of his eyes, to his curls\u2014thick and silky, never a split end or a strand out of place\u2014legs for miles and narrow hips\u2014\n\nKris swallowed, distracted. Of course Rayne was the most beautiful man they'd ever seen. To think otherwise was blasphemy.\n\n\"I'll worship you,\" he said, over the cult's muttering.\n\nRayne and Cal both looked at him, startled.\n\n\"I will too,\" Angel said.\n\n\"And me,\" said Rikki.\n\n\"Fuck, sure,\" Jay agreed. \"Why not.\"\n\n\"Good speech,\" Billie added.\n\n\"Stef will be furious they missed this,\" Maki said, \"but I'll worship you.\"\n\n\"And me,\" Lenny sighed, regret plain in his words.\n\nHatchwork and Knocks chimed in, clearly lost, but amenable as long as it got them untied.\n\n\"Jesus Christ,\" Brian sighed. \"Rayne\u2014\"\n\nRayne cleared his throat pointedly and tapped his foot.\n\n\"Your Serene Majesty,\" Brian corrected himself.\n\n\"And me,\" Cal said. \"I'll worship you too.\" He glared at the cult before turning his gaze back to Rayne, who nodded to him.\n\n\"See?\" Rayne said to the cult. \"New acolytes.\"\n\nThe cult jostled one another for a second longer before reaching their decision and prostrating themselves, foreheads touching the floor. Rikki twitched but, being bound, couldn't join them. Cal closed his eyes for an instant with a wistful sigh. Rayne took a step back and looked around, shooting Kris a helpless glance before resuming his haughty stage character. Freddie walked between their prone forms, inspecting each one as they held quaveringly still, and everyone tied to the pole held their breath, waiting.\n\n\"Attention!\" a voice blared from outside, crackling through a megaphone. Everyone jumped. The three cultists twitched and leaped to their feet, hands going to their knives. \"We have you surrounded,\" the voice continued. \"Come out with your hands up.\"\n\nThe cult glanced at one another. The megaphone screeched with static.\n\n\"You have until the count of three,\" the voice said. \"On three, we're coming in, and we're not afraid to use force. One\u2014\"\n\nFreddie shrieked and took wing, flying directly for Leif's face. Flinching, Leif ducked back with a shout as the bird drove him toward the tent entrance with beating wings and a tail that seemed far too heavy to fly. He fell through the opening, a scuffle sounded, and the megaphone blared again.\n\n\"Your compatriot has surrendered. I repeat, come out with your hands up.\"\n\nRed and Boar exchanged a look and silently obeyed. As soon as they were out, the tent entrance flared open and the sun came streaming in, revealing Cassie, wearing a security guard's vest, and a very pleased Stef, who was wielding a megaphone. Butch headed an assortment of sooty-looking security personnel as cops and medics swarmed in the background, forcing the cultists into cuffs. The press, confused and overexcited, stood by with their cameras flashing.\n\n\"What's up?\" Cassie asked. \"You guys look like you had a fun afternoon.\"\n\n\"Please untie us,\" Kris said. \"Now, please. Immediately.\"\n\n\"Sure, sure,\" she said easily, pulling a knife from god knew where. \"So a cult, huh? An entire hostage scenario! And I missed the whole thing. I'm glad you're not dead, though; Mom and Dad would have had a fit. What happened with you, anyway? Brad said you weren't feeling good so he drove you back to the festival early\u2014did you get your talk with Rayne?\"\n\n\"I'm standing right here,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"Brad,\" Kris said. \"Is he here? I'm going to kill him.\"\n\n\"Yeah, he'll probably be here in a sec,\" she said. \"Why are you killing him?\"\n\nShe finished sawing through his ropes and he rubbed the feeling back into his wrists before trying to stand. Rayne took his elbow and helped balance him, while fishing his phone from his pocket and handing it to Cass. \"Read the last texts from Kris.\"\n\nAs Cass did, her eyebrows climbed higher and higher until they threatened to disappear into her hairline. \"Brad sent these? What a dick. I missed a lot.\"\n\n\"What we get for sneaking off to make out,\" Stef said, cutting Passionfruit free. \"Who wants a quickie when you can get kidnapped instead?\"\n\n\"Seriously,\" Cass agreed. \"And then there was that fire on that north-side stage! Most of security's still dealing with that. They caught the guy, though. See?\"\n\nShe pointed to a couple of personnel who weren't manhandling the cultists: instead, they had in custody a skinny, twitchy-looking man who seemed to have been caught in an explosion. He was covered in ash from head to toe and littered with scratches, his hair standing on end and his eyebrows missing, but beaming manically. He shouted, squirming around in the security guard's grip as he tried to wave at Leif, who stoically ignored him.\n\n\"Huh,\" said Kris. \"He's connected to the cult too?\"\n\n\"Wild stuff.\" Cassie nodded. \"You okay though, Kris?\"\n\n\"Mentally?\" Kris asked. Rayne still hadn't let go of his arm. His hand was warm, but he stood farther off than he normally did, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to touch. \"We still need to talk,\" Kris said. \"That's what I was coming to do before the fucking peacock cult got involved.\"\n\n\"Go,\" Cassie shooed. \"Not far\u2014the cops will want to talk to you. But go talk!\"\n\nKris led Rayne through the side slit in the tent, ducking around the congregation of bemused but warily entertained law enforcement at the front, to stand a few yards back in an illusion of privacy, hidden by the tent's shadow.\n\n\"So,\" Kris said.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Rayne said immediately. \"I never should have believed you would drop everything and run like that. I know you wouldn't, not for any reason, no matter how it looked. You're not Fink. You're nothing like him.\"\n\n\"I'm in love with you.\"\n\nRayne blinked, lips parted in shock. Kris doubled down and rolled with it.\n\n\"I've been in love with you this entire time.\" He forged on, speaking over the crazy pounding of his heart and the way his palms broke out in sweat. \"Since way before we messed around. Maybe since you bought me that guitar and offered me a contract. And it wasn't messing around,\" he corrected himself. He needed to be completely transparent this time. \"I needed to get drunk before I could make a move on you, but I didn't regret it, and I wasn't experimenting. I like guys too, Rayne. I've always liked guys, even when I was scared to say so back home. I'm bi, always have been, and I didn't need to get my hands on your dick to figure that out. But mostly I just like you. And I'm pretty sure you like me too. So, uh, anytime you want to say something, feel free to jump in. Please.\"\n\nRayne wet his lips. He looked lost, and like the sun coming through the clouds, radiant and hesitant and overwhelmed all at once. \"Okay,\" he said. \"I like you too. A lot. And I'm sorry for what I said this morning\u2014I was scared of getting hurt, and I thought getting involved with you was going to hurt a lot. It usually does,\" he added, running his hand through his hair, \"when straight boys are involved, and after Fink, I never wanted to take that chance again. I didn't want to risk the band, and I didn't think the sex would be worth the fallout.\" He dropped his gaze. \"I didn't want to risk my heart again, either. Fink trampled it pretty ruthlessly, even if I was over him by the time he quit the band for good.\"\n\n\"Fink's a dick,\" Kris said bluntly, \"and I'm sorry for everything I did that made you think I was like him. I should have told you I was bi sooner, but I'd never said it aloud before. I didn't want to complicate things, especially once Calloway showed up, but I still should have said something.\"\n\nHis heartbeat had calmed now that Rayne had heard him out, though as the adrenaline faded it left him weak-kneed and in need of a hug. Rayne made an aborted movement like he wanted to reach for him, but Kris shook his head. \"Obviously I managed to complicate everything anyway. I wasn't planning on falling for you, if that helps.\"\n\n\"Complicate everything by encouraging me to do this stunt with Calloway, even though you liked me the entire time, for example?\"\n\nKris's heart leaped at Rayne's cautiously teasing tone. \"I was hoping that if you were off-limits, it would help me get my head on straight and I'd get over you,\" he admitted. \"It kind of backfired.\"\n\n\"That night in the hotel, when I asked you whether I should do that stunt, I was hoping you'd tell me it was a dumb idea,\" Rayne said. \"I was looking for some sign that you wanted me too.\"\n\nKris stared at him for a second before he started to laugh. \"Oh man, did we ever fuck up. So, you and Cal . . . still just fake?\"\n\n\"Yeah. We talked this morning, after you and I . . . after you left, but before Brad sent those texts. Cal said he wasn't ready for anything serious, but he didn't feel right about messing around when I was clearly hung up on someone else. And I'm not really into the whole casual-sex thing anyway.\" Rayne paused. \"Of course, now he might be under arrest with the rest of the cult. I should go see about that.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you can convince the cops it wasn't his fault. Though you might have to fight Brian first. He's pissed.\"\n\n\"I can't blame him.\"\n\nKris shifted from one foot to the other. \"So, are we okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I should have seen this coming, though. I knew you'd be trouble the minute I saw you.\"\n\n\"The good kind of trouble?\" Kris asked, daring to look Rayne in the eye.\n\n\"I think so. I hope so.\"\n\nRayne caught his wrist and tugged him near. Kris let Rayne reel him in, inch by inch, until they were standing a breath apart. Tipping his head back, he met Rayne's gaze, simultaneously shy and daring. His stomach flipped like it did when he'd first seen his own reflection after Angel had made him up, or when he'd walked out of the change room wearing girl's clothes for the first time, or when Rayne had come prowling up to him onstage and the crowd's roar swelled to a crescendo. He was going to kiss Rayne Bakshi\u2014Rayne Bakshi was going to kiss him\u2014in broad daylight, when they were both sober, and there was no audience to impress. He couldn't stop smiling as he leaned in. Rayne's hands hovered just above his shoulders, like he couldn't believe Kris was real, and\u2014\n\n\"You!\" a voice thundered.\n\nThey jumped apart.\n\nBrad Golding stopped a yard away, glowering, one finger pointed accusingly, at which of them, Kris couldn't tell.\n\n\"You never learn, do you?\" Brad demanded. \"I thought I took care of this, but obviously\u2014\"\n\n\"Shut up,\" Kris interrupted. \"What is even wrong with you? This is none of your business, man. Let it go.\"\n\n\"No. You\u2014\" Brad jabbed his finger at Rayne. \"You're exploiting him for your sick gay exhibitionist fantasies, and he's going along with it because he thinks he needs the job. You messed with his head, and now he's confused, and he's dragging the rest of us down with him. I'm bringing him home to work in Dad's garage until he figures his shit out again, and we can go back to being a normal family!\"\n\nKris punched him.\n\nIt wasn't a very good punch, as Kris had never had much practice, but it made a satisfying thwack when it connected, and the pain that shot up Kris's arm from his knuckles spoke of a job well done. Brad reeled away clutching his jaw.\n\n\"Oh, shit,\" Rayne said.\n\nKris shook out his hand. \"I'm going to need an ice pack. You think the medics have one?\"\n\n\"Yeah, probably.\"\n\nBrad was bent double now, holding his face in obvious pain.\n\n\"Should we just . . . leave him?\" Rayne asked.\n\n\"You just wait until Mom and Dad hear about this,\" Brad swore.\n\n\"What are you, five?\" Kris said. \"Get over yourself or I'll hit you again.\"\n\n\"I feel like I should be more offended about the exploitation comment,\" Rayne said, \"but he's clearly nuts.\"\n\n\"Republican,\" Kris agreed. \"If you want to fight him to defend your honor, I'll totally back you, though.\"\n\nBrad, seething, walked up and shoved Rayne hard in the chest. Rayne staggered back a step, then shoved him in return. Shoving quickly turned to grappling, completely ineffectual on both sides, while Kris tried to figure out whether he should pull them apart or join in. Rayne was the taller of the two, and more fit, but Brad was clearly running on unadulterated anger, while Rayne had just escaped a hostage scenario and looked faintly baffled by the whole thing. When Brad resorted to hair-pulling, Kris intervened, wading into the fray to grab hold of Brad's ear\u2014the only handhold he could manage\u2014and yanking. Brad howled and pulled harder on Rayne's hair; Rayne yelped, and the police and medics, who were gathered at the front of the tent presumably straightening out the story behind the cult, finally took notice and poked their heads around.\n\n\"We're being attacked!\" Kris yelled, pointing at Brad.\n\nBrad finally let go, looked around wild-eyed, and booked it. He ran straight past the cops to the nearest motorcycle, which he leaped onto as if he had any idea how to ride the thing. He kicked the engine to life and made a bid for freedom. For a minute it seemed like he might succeed\u2014Kris wasn't about to chase him down, and they'd run into each other at the next family gathering anyway\u2014but the bike let out a shuddering cough and lurched to one side. At that precise moment Freddie Mercury, apparently seeing his own reflection in the shiny chrome of the motorcycle's body and deciding it was a threat, charged the thing head-on and latched on to Brad's scalp with an unearthly wail, louder and shriller than the engine. Brad yelled and drove straight into the nearest tent, which collapsed around him in a wave of canvas as the bike made a horrible noise and literally fell apart underneath him. The engine choked, sputtered, and went dead from under the wreck. Freddie fluttered out to land a few feet away, rearranging his wings and looking pleased with himself.\n\nKris and Rayne watched the tent settle. There was a conspicuous broken-motorcycle-shaped heap in the center of it, and it wasn't moving.\n\n\"Do you think he's all right?\" Rayne asked eventually.\n\nKris couldn't muster any convincing amount of concern. \"Let the medics figure him out,\" he said. \"Let's go see how everybody else is doing.\"\n\nRayne slung his arm around Kris's shoulders like he'd done the day they first met, and Kris leaned into him, comfortable and warm, as the butterflies in his stomach finally settled into something hopeful rather than anxious, and together they walked back around to the front to rejoin the rest of their band.\n\nIn the end, the fallout went like this:\n\nBrad ended up with a broken leg, some cracked ribs, and a colorful assortment of scrapes and bruises. He might have escaped unscathed had he not made the mistake of grabbing Rikki's half-dismantled bike instead of one of the other cultists' more functional ones, but Rayne said that was karma in action. Kris wondered if he should feel bad about not feeling bad, but if anyone deserved a hospital trip, it was Brad.\n\nThe cult was arrested on twelve counts of kidnapping and unlawful confinement\u2014Travis, the fireworks arsonist, was likewise arrested and charged\u2014though Rikki narrowly escaped thanks to having been tied up at the time of their rescue, and Angel's fierce insistence on vouching for him.\n\nCalloway likewise avoided charges, though that wasn't to do with Angel, but with the label stepping in to smooth things over. Kris didn't hold a grudge, though Angel said she did, a little. Rayne seemed sympathetic, but not enough to resume their publicity stunt for the remainder of the festival\u2014not that Brian would have let him anywhere near Cal following that whole debacle. Cassie was insufferably smug about the whole scenario, though Kris probably would have been too if he'd mounted a rescue mission like that while twelve people had let themselves be captured and tied up by three or four pseudo-religious skinheads.\n\nButch confessed that he spent the afternoon alternating between kicking himself for leaving them unguarded in their moment of need, and quietly laughing at them for being taken down so easily. He swore he would never take anything Rayne said at face value again, in case he was actually being coerced into sending his security away. Rayne apologized at great length and promised to negotiate a raise, which Butch said he would use to invest in a GPS tracker implanted under Rayne's skin so he couldn't get himself kidnapped again. Brian seemed uncomfortably keen on that idea, not that Kris could blame him.\n\nNeither Passionfruit nor The Chokecherries were any worse for wear following their adventure, though Brian was verging on apoplectic as he conferred with the cops and made long-distance calls to lawyers, trying to cement the charges and get everyone's stories straight. Kris did his best to stay out of Brian's path, hoping that as long as Brian was preoccupied with those legal matters, he wouldn't have time to kick Kris out of the band for bringing the peacock to Rayne and starting the whole mess in the first place.\n\nAfter giving their statements to the cops, the bands only had a minute to spare before stumbling onto the stage for their afternoon show. Passionfruit played a good set, their adrenaline giving way to giggles as they bounced off one another, reveling in their freedom. Kris watched the show from side stage, pressed up against Rayne, their hands entangled between them. They hadn't tried to kiss again. Kris knew they would during their show, and he'd love it as he always did, but after\u2014when they left the stage, and the crowd finally went quiet\u2014they were going to tuck themselves away somewhere dark and private, away from prying eyes. He could feel the promise in Rayne's heartbeat and the heat from his body, and the light that glinted in his eyes, and in the curl of his hair.\n\n\"Are you going to tell them you've been promoted to godhood?\" Kris asked, standing on tiptoe to reach Rayne's ear and be heard above Passionfruit's din.\n\n\"I do like it,\" Rayne admitted. \"I think I'd make a good god, don't you?\"\n\n\"Like your ego needs any more stroking,\" Kris scoffed, but his heart still skipped a beat at the thought of worshipping Rayne like that, him laid out on an altar while Kris knelt for him, mouth watering.\n\nRayne squeezed Kris's hand tighter.\n\nKris didn't remember much of the show. The lights burned and the crowd screamed and Rayne was on fire, prowling to and fro like he couldn't keep his hands off Kris, and singing like he needed the whole world to sing with him. Kris sang too, away from any mike\u2014he couldn't hear his own voice over the rush of blood and the screams from the audience and the pounding music, but he sang until his throat was raw and his head was spinning and he thought, Yeah, I can see where the cult is coming from. There was nothing like losing yourself in the oblivion of something beautiful, and Rayne\u2014he was perfect. He demanded adoration, and the crowd was only too happy to give it to him.\n\nTheir stolen kisses came in rushes, hot and wet and all too brief, snuck in between verses. They were smiling too widely to do it properly, but Kris didn't care\u2014he didn't care about a thousand people watching, either, because this time he knew it was for real. The kisses didn't taste any sweeter for it, not yet. They were still a shot of sweat and cologne, bumped noses and teeth, but with every one Rayne reinforced the promise that soon\u2014as soon as they got offstage\u2014he was going to take Kris apart atom by atom, and Kris was going to love every second of it.\n\nKris finished the show in a daze, drunk on possibility. They didn't stay for an encore\u2014\"Tomorrow,\" Rayne said, \"for the last show, but not now\"\u2014and Kris handed his guitar to Cassie without a word, not even stopping to get changed, as Rayne grabbed his hand and dragged him back to their bus, while the rest of the bands whooped and wolf-whistled behind them.\n\n\"What happened to the no-fucking-on-the-bus rule?\" Kris asked.\n\nRayne paused, one foot on the step. \"Is that what we're doing right now?\"\n\nKris wanted to do everything and then some. In lieu of answering, he climbed the last step of the bus and reached up to wrap his arms around Rayne's neck and kissed him on the mouth.\n\nIt was better than kissing drunk or kissing onstage. Kris waited for the screams, or fireworks, or for the earth to tilt off its axis. None of it came. All he felt was warmth, starting in his lips like the burn from eating too many peppermints, and traveling down his body to burst around his heart and pool in his stomach, low and burning, until every inch of his body was transfused with it. He felt like he was glowing, but he didn't want to open his eyes to look.\n\nRayne was solid against him, his hands running up Kris's shoulders to tangle in his hair, teeth tugging at Kris's bottom lip like he wanted to eat him alive. Kris would have let him.\n\n\"Can we\u2014\" Rayne began.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nRayne laughed and backed Kris farther into the bus, toward the bunks. They stopped only when the backs of Kris's knees hit the edge of his mattress. Rayne met his gaze, a question in his eyes, before pushing Kris down to sit. \"I thought about this,\" he confessed, \"a lot more than I meant to. I imagined a hotel where I could spread you out on a real bed and take my time with you. Show you how good it can be.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Really draw it out,\" Rayne promised. \"Make it last for days.\"\n\nKris blushed hard and his mouth went dry. He could practically feel his pupils blowing out, and he straightened, reaching for Rayne. There was little room in the bus, and as soon as they both tried to cram into Kris's bunk there would be even less, but he was up for the challenge. He didn't need to take up much space.\n\nRayne laughed. \"God, I can't believe I ever thought\u2014 'Historically straight,' as if you were ever\u2014\"\n\n\"Stop talking,\" Kris ordered, grabbing Rayne's wrists. \"Either kiss me or take your shirt off, I don't care which.\"\n\nRayne pulled his wrists free and unbuttoned his shirt one hole at a time, teasingly slow. The silk shifted, revealing his skin in glimpses, and Kris's heart beat faster with every inch Rayne exposed.\n\n\"Tell me what you want,\" Rayne said. \"Tell me what you thought about.\" He finally let his shirt fall open, and dropped it behind him on the bus floor. Kris shuffled forward until he was sitting on the very edge of the mattress, his feet on the floor, with Rayne standing between his knees, the opposite wall of bunks within touching distance of Rayne's back. Kris put his hands on Rayne's hips, his thumbs brushing the skin just above his belt.\n\n\"Get down here.\"\n\nRayne ducked and crawled into the bunk beside Kris, all warm skin and still too many clothes.\n\n\"I need to memorize every single one of your tattoos now,\" Kris told him.\n\n\"Okay,\" Rayne said, breathlessly. \"Sounds good.\"\n\nKris started at Rayne's throat, on the side of his neck where the wild roses were. He kissed his way down to their leaves on Rayne's shoulder, leaving tiny lipstick marks like petals as he went. His lipstick was purple this time, so dark it was nearly black. He couldn't tell the difference between the ink and the plain skin by taste alone\u2014it was all sweet and salty\u2014but he was diligent in tracing every line, either with his tongue or his fingers. He kissed his way across the key under Rayne's collarbone. He kissed the two birds on his chest. His breath ghosted over the snake that curled down Rayne's arm; the last of the scab had since fallen away, but it was still so fresh in Kris's memory that he was scared to touch it. He ran his fingers over the mandala on the back of Rayne's neck and the sun between his shoulder blades, slow and deliberate, while Rayne panted and shivered under him. Kris was in no rush. Their last time had been so hurried\u2014he didn't regret it, not for a second\u2014but now, he wanted to take his time.\n\nHe nipped Rayne's skin, and Rayne tightened his grip in Kris's hair, warningly. Kris laughed, his breath huffing over Rayne's chest. \"You can tell me to stop,\" he pointed out, \"if you have a better idea.\"\n\n\"I might,\" Rayne said.\n\n\"Does it involve taking off your pants?\" Kris dipped lower, down past Rayne's ribs to follow the faint line of his abs, then over to bite at the jut of his hip bones. He traced the veins in Rayne's stomach down to where they disappeared under his belt. \"You hiding any more ink down there?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nKris sat up. \"Guess I'm done, then.\"\n\n\"You're the actual worst,\" Rayne informed him, and pulled him into a kiss. Whatever was left of Kris's lipstick smeared between them, and he moaned into Rayne's mouth. When they pulled apart, Rayne looked fucked and all they'd done was make out; Kris couldn't imagine how he appeared, with his makeup trashed and his hair mussed. Debauched might be the word for it.\n\nHe could always get more debauched.\n\n\"You, sit,\" he said, and climbed over Rayne and out of the bunk to kneel on the bus floor, manhandling Rayne into the position he wanted: upright, with his feet on the floor and knees spread wide. Rayne went obediently, and soon Kris was sitting between his thighs, at eye level with his belt buckle. Kris wet his lips, his insides turning somersaults.\n\n\"I don't really know how to do this, so you don't get to complain about technique, okay?\"\n\n\"Baby, you could bite it off and I'd probably thank you,\" Rayne said. \"I mean, try not to, but the bar is low.\"\n\n\"Personally, I'm just going to try not to choke.\" Kris took a deep breath. He was shaky, but the expression on Rayne's face\u2014like Kris was awe-inspiring, down on his knees like this\u2014was exhilarating. He reached for Rayne's belt. \"Okay, rock star. Let's see what you've got.\"\n\nRayne threaded his fingers through Kris's hair and tugged to get Kris to look up again. \"Hey,\" Rayne said. \"Love you.\"\n\nKris's butterflies flipped over and he grinned. \"Love you too.\" He slid Rayne's belt from its buckle and smoothed his hands over Rayne's hips. \"Okay. Here we go.\"\n\nAfter, they lay side by side, crammed in the narrow bunk, sweaty and glowing.\n\n\"I still owe you dinner and roses,\" Rayne commented, dragging his fingers up and down Kris's side like he was petting a giant cat.\n\nKris hummed and stretched, tangling their legs together in the sheets. \"We're pretty close to Vegas. We could do a stopover before we head to LA. Hit the strip, find a little neon chapel, and get hitched on the down-low . . .\"\n\nRayne flicked him in the ear, and Kris laughed and squirmed away.\n\n\"Can you imagine what Brian would say?\" Rayne asked. \"He wouldn't let us out of his sight for the rest of our contracts. Maybe never.\"\n\n\"Okay, no shotgun wedding.\" Kris shuffled over to lie on his side, propped up on one elbow to look Rayne in the eye. Rayne gazed up at him, blissed out and adoring. \"Roses and dinner for sure, though. No cop-outs this time.\"\n\nRayne caught Kris's hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing kisses over Kris's knuckles. \"No cop-outs this time,\" he promised. \"Like I said in New York\u2014whatever you want, I'll get you. Anything in the whole world, babe, it's yours.\"\n\n\"Well, I want to stay in the band,\" Kris said. \"After my contract's up, I want to sign on for good, if Brian's not out for my head.\"\n\nRayne nodded. \"He likes you, really. He'll let you stay.\"\n\nKris smiled, relieved. \"And I want to do this again. Or something like this.\"\n\n\"I wasn't joking about the hotel,\" Rayne said immediately. \"Or if you don't want a hotel\u2014anywhere. Anytime. Whatever you want, that's what I want.\"\n\n\"Will you still take me to India and show me around? With or without the band, I'd really like that.\"\n\n\"Yes, absolutely. I'll take you everywhere and show you everything. What else?\"\n\nKris bit his lip. \"Mostly I just want you, any way I can get you.\"\n\nRayne kissed him softly. \"I'm sorry I didn't believe you the first time you told me. I panicked. I thought you were too good to be true.\"\n\nKris rested his head on Rayne's chest and let Rayne play with his hair. \"I'm pretty sure I've fucked up my fair share in this. Let's call it even.\" He dropped a kiss to the nearest bird tattoo.\n\nRayne laughed and tugged his hair. \"So we're good?\"\n\n\"We're good.\" Kris kissed the underside of Rayne's jaw and flung an arm around his ribs, nestling in close. \"We're perfect.\"\n\nThe next morning, Kris, Angel, and Rikki sat side by side in the shade of the bus, their legs stretched out in the sand, watching the clouds drift by. They were white and fluffy like cotton candy, and Kris wanted to remember the image forever: the bright-blue sky and the fierce orange desert sand, cacti on the horizon, and the endless highway winding through it all. Angel's thigh was warm where it pressed against his, casual and unobtrusive. Rikki sat on her far side, and Kris shut his eyes, breathing in the hot, dry air, and took a moment to enjoy the company. They were a million miles from Rayne's penthouse where he and Angel had first met, and Kris couldn't imagine life without her now\u2014her or Rayne.\n\n\"You and Rayne are a sure thing now, for real?\" she asked.\n\n\"For sure for real,\" he confirmed.\n\n\"Finally. It was driving me crazy trying to get you two on the same page, you know. Like you were both determined to make things as hard as possible.\"\n\n\"Sorry. Next time I'll listen to you from the start.\"\n\n\"Smarten up and there won't need to be a next time,\" she suggested.\n\n\"That's fair.\" He couldn't speak for Rayne, but now that he had him, Kris had no intention of letting this relationship slip through his fingers. He poked Angel in the shoulder. \"Thanks for not giving up on us.\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes and swatted him away, but she was smiling.\n\n\"What will you do after the festival?\" Rikki asked Angel.\n\n\"I'll finish the tour, then head back home to my club for a while. What about you? You've got no gang anymore.\"\n\nRikki watched the sky for a minute, his expression contemplative. \"I think that's good, though. I don't know what I'll do, but I'll figure something out. Like a fresh start.\" He dropped his gaze and turned his hands over in his lap, knotting his fingers together before asking softly, like it had been bothering him for a while: \"How come you took a chance on me?\" He kept his head down like he was afraid of what he might see in their faces.\n\n\"Did you not want us to?\" Angel asked.\n\nHe shrugged.\n\nShe touched his chin and raised his head. His gaze flickered before settling on hers, his eyes wide and cautious. \"I'm a black trans girl living in America: I have to believe in the good in people. If I weren't an optimist, I might as well be dead. I'll help you figure things out, if you want.\"\n\nWhen Rikki leaned in to kiss her, he did it slowly, like he expected her to move away or shove him back, but she did neither. Kris cleared his throat and got to his feet.\n\n\"I'll leave you to it,\" he said. They ignored him, so he ambled out of the shadow, scuffing the dust with his sneakers as he walked. It was a beautiful day, and cults notwithstanding, he'd be sorry to leave the desert. Still, he expected LA would be just as breathtaking, if in a different way. Hopefully with less kidnapping.\n\nHe returned ten or fifteen minutes later and dropped back down beside them like he'd never left. They both seemed bonelessly content, their fingers tangled together in the dust between their legs, shy smiles on their faces, eyes downcast. Kris thought back to his night on MDMA, when every touch sparked like electricity. Angel and Rikki were practically glowing; was that how Kris had seemed when he looked at Rayne? He elected not to comment apart from jostling Angel with his shoulder as he got comfortable.\n\n\"So?\" he asked.\n\n\"He said he'd come back to the White Rabbit with me. Help out with repairs, that kind of stuff.\"\n\nRikki nodded, something reverent in his gaze. \"Anywhere. Anything, as long as it's with her.\"\n\nKris decided to trust Angel's judge of character. \"Well, good. I'm happy for you.\"\n\nThe clouds had long since drifted past, leaving the sky bright blue and blue alone. Rikki curled up against Angel, leaning his head to rest on her shoulder, and traced shapes on the back of her hand with his thumb.\n\n\"You see that blond guy over there?\" Kris asked, nodding to Tom, who was wandering the grounds, seemingly elated by his surroundings, and possibly high. \"He's going to be a priest someday. If you still have questions about finding a new god, you should talk to him sometime.\"\n\n\"I don't know if I want a new god,\" Rikki said.\n\nThe way he looked at Angel, he might have already found one.\n\nTom paused in his walk and glanced over. He brightened and waved. Kris and Angel waved back.\n\n\"I'll introduce you,\" Angel said. \"Never too early for him to start practicing sermons, right?\"\n\n\"Oh, I gave him a head start on that already,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Okay,\" Rikki said, turning so he was nestled more securely against Angel's shoulder, her hair brushing his face. \"I'd like that. Anything you want.\"\n\nAngel hummed and held him close.\n\n\"So, back to the White Rabbit, huh?\" Kris said. \"You're done with the music industry?\"\n\n\"Not until this tour is over,\" Angel said. \"I'll get Rayne set up with a new makeup artist long before I call it quits. The Chokecherries will get by fine without me. I miss my club; it deserves some undivided attention for a time.\"\n\n\"Course it does. It's your baby.\"\n\n\"And we'll still see each other,\" she added. \"Hell, Rayne will probably book you to play there before the year is up. We'll be just fine.\"\n\nKris wasn't worried. He felt on top of the world, like he had everything he'd ever wanted. It was hard to worry in that state.\n\n\"Tell me about your club?\" Rikki asked.\n\nAngel smiled and tipped her head back to look up at the sky. \"It's a burlesque club. You know anything about burlesque?\"\n\nTheir parents came to say goodbye that afternoon, whisking Kris and Cassie out for lunch one last time before they parted ways. Brad had been left behind at the hotel, apparently sulking like a toddler but unwilling to start another fight with his leg in a cast and his ribs bruised to hell and back, in almost as bad shape as his dignity\u2014that, and the fact that Freddie Mercury was still roaming the grounds as part of Rayne's ensemble.\n\n\"The doctors say he'll recover just fine,\" their mom said as they sat around the diner table, \"though he'll be sore awhile.\"\n\n\"As soon as he's come down from his painkillers, we'll be giving him a talking to, you believe me,\" their dad added. \"It's not how we raised him\u2014not how we raised any of you\u2014and we won't stand for it any longer, not as long as he calls himself a Golding.\"\n\n\"I'm sure that'll go over great,\" Kris said. \"Rayne's offering to help pay the medical bills, by the way.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear\u2014no, we couldn't possibly accept that,\" their mom said, visibly flustered. \"Tell him thank you, but we'll get by.\"\n\nKris shrugged. He had protested the idea too at first, but Rayne was as stubborn as he was loaded, and the battle had been short-lived.\n\n\"I'm not a saint,\" Rayne had said. \"I'm not offering because I think he deserves a second chance. I just want to see his face when he realizes he owes me his life, and I won't let him pay me back to settle the score. Anyway, your parents shouldn't have to shoulder his bills all by themselves.\"\n\nKris was confident Rayne could win his parents over as well.\n\n\"You and Rayne, though,\" his mom said.\n\n\"Us,\" Kris agreed.\n\n\"The young man he was seeing earlier wasn't serious?\"\n\n\"That's a funny story, but no. They're not together. They never were.\"\n\n\"But you two are? Should we expect him for Christmas?\"\n\n\"I think so, and . . . I don't know? But it's good. I'm happy.\" He let his grin burst out. \"I'm really happy.\"\n\nHis parents beamed back at him as Cassie leaned over for a fist bump.\n\n\"So, Knocks is getting his cast off in a couple of weeks,\" Cassie said, smoothly changing the subject as she chased her waffles through a sea of syrup, \"but the guys have been talking.\"\n\n\"Knocks has been playing rhythm guitar in the meantime,\" Kris supplied for their parents.\n\n\"He likes it,\" Cassie said. \"A lot. So much, actually, that they asked if I wanted to stick around for the rest of the tour.\"\n\n\"Is that something you want?\" their mom asked.\n\n\"Hell yes, absolutely. This is the best thing I've ever done. I was thinking . . .\"\n\nTheir parents looked at each other in trepidation.\n\n\"About what happens after the tour. Assuming I stay on as their drummer, of course.\" She speared a waffle piece with a strawberry on it and popped it in her mouth. \"Because they said they like playing with me, and if Knocks wants to keep playing guitar, well, after the tour they're going to start work on their next album.\"\n\n\"You want to join the band for real,\" Kris said.\n\n\"Obviously.\"\n\n\"You've got your last year of college starting in September,\" their dad pointed out, in a careful, nonjudgmental voice.\n\n\"That's the part I was thinking about,\" Cassie said. \"I can put school on hold and go back next year if this doesn't work out, but I won't get another chance to join a band like this. Not without starting from scratch and forming my own, you know?\" She looked back and forth between them.\n\n\"This isn't something you should jump into,\" their dad began.\n\n\"Like I jumped into drumming for them?\"\n\nHe held up his hands. \"It's your future, Cassie, and your education on the line. You've only known them a week.\"\n\n\"We're not saying don't do it,\" their mom added. \"We're saying sleep on it a little longer.\"\n\n\"These are all hypotheticals,\" Cassie said. \"We have to finish the tour first. Hell, we have to get Knocks's cast off first. I just . . . I think it would be really cool. I'm happy here. I feel like I could do it forever.\"\n\nTheir parents softened.\n\n\"Both my babies growing up and joining bands,\" their mom said. \"Touring the world. What a turn.\"\n\n\"I'm twenty-five,\" Kris said, without much rancor. \"I've been grown-up for a while.\"\n\n\"You look like you're going through a second puberty, though,\" Cassie pointed out cheerfully. \"You're wearing more makeup than I did in high school.\"\n\nKris kicked her under the table and she kicked back, grinning.\n\n\"As long as you're happy,\" their mom said again.\n\n\"We are,\" they chorused together, and Kris had never felt anything truer in his life.\n\nWhen they returned to the festival, he called Brad. He was still angry; Brad getting thrown through the wringer hadn't changed that.\n\n\"Hey, listen: we're heading to LA in a day and then we're going for the international leg of the tour, so we won't see each other again for a while. I wanted to make sure you knew something, before I left.\"\n\n\"What?\" Brad croaked. He sounded terrible, but if the doctors said he was going to be fine, Kris wasn't going to worry about it.\n\n\"We hooked up, me and Rayne. I sucked him off and he told me I was pretty, and we had a really good time. And in another day or two, after we're back on the road, we're going to book a hotel and I'm going to ask him to fuck me, for real.\"\n\nBrad sputtered incredulously over the line.\n\n\"And I'm going to fucking love it, Brad, and there's nothing you can do about it.\"\n\nHe ended the call before Brad could respond and turned off his phone with a smile. Though his heart was racing, he felt insurmountable.\n\n\"Are you going to be okay?\" Kris asked.\n\nHe and Calloway stood by The Chokecherries' bus. Passionfruit was wrapping up their final show, and he was due to take the stage in a few minutes. The last show of Purple Sage.\n\n\"I feel like I owe everyone an apology, though I'm not sure what to say,\" Cal said. \"I'm grateful Rayne's not pressing charges.\"\n\n\"He's good like that.\"\n\n\"I should have spoken up as soon as I saw you with the bird. But I was scared the label was going to drop me if I caused the slightest problem, and I hoped . . . you know. I hoped I was wrong about the cult and everything. I hoped the whole thing would blow over before it could come to a head.\" Cal rubbed the back of his neck. \"I fucked up on that one, and I'm sorry for it.\"\n\n\"No lasting damage done,\" Kris said amiably, \"but yeah, an earlier heads-up would have been nice.\"\n\nCal nodded. \"I feel like I should apologize on behalf of the label, as well, for that whole publicity stunt. I suppose I got in the way a bit, didn't I?\"\n\n\"The stunt definitely wasn't your fault. I fucked that part up on my own. We all made our fair share of mistakes the past week or two.\"\n\n\"I suppose we did. Granted, some were bigger than others.\" Cal shook his head with a wry smile. \"But you and Rayne are an item now, I hear? That's good. He was fucking pining for you, man, as sure as you were for him. Absolutely painful to watch, I'm telling you.\" He tentatively touched Kris's shoulder. \"I'm glad you got it sorted. Sorry I wasn't much help.\"\n\n\"Sorry your stunt got cut short,\" Kris said sincerely. \"I guess you never got enough press coverage to really boost your career like you wanted, huh? Now all people are talking about is the hostage-cult thing.\"\n\n\"Ah, it's for the best, I think. I'm not sure I'm ready for the sort of fame Rayne has. I'll take a few years to grow into it.\" Cal tipped his head back to squint at the sun. \"Actually, I thought I might take a break once this bit of touring is over, see a counselor, maybe. Talk about the whole cult scenario, get it off my chest.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\nButch hollered at them from the stage, beckoning Kris over.\n\nKris clapped Cal on the arm. \"Listen, it was cool meeting you, despite everything. Good luck with the band and the counseling, if you go that route. I think it'd be good for you.\"\n\nCal smiled widely, the same smile from that picture Kris had seen way back before he'd met him. \"Good luck to you too. We should keep in touch\u2014Rayne Bakshi's fake love interests. Though of course you're the real thing now.\"\n\n\"We should. We will,\" Kris promised as Butch yelled again, this time with greater insistence.\n\n\"Go on,\" Cal said, laughing. \"Give him one last kiss from me, will you?\"\n\nKris grinned and shivered\u2014he could kiss Rayne now, he was allowed, and there was no one to stop him. Waving goodbye to Calloway, he broke into a run, heading to the stage for their last show as his heart tripped with excitement in the best way possible.\n\nHe arrived backstage just as Lenny drummed out his cue. Slinging his guitar strap over his shoulder, he ran to take his place in front of the crowd. Rayne caught him before he went out, pressing close to drop a kiss to Kris's cheek. Kris twisted around to kiss him back\u2014mostly teeth, he couldn't stop smiling\u2014before slipping out onto the stage.\n\nTheir intro song flared up around him as he shouted a hello to the crowd, which roared back at him in adulation. Standing there, soaking up the noise and the heat and the love, he felt like he was flying. He got to kiss Rayne again and mean it, and keep meaning it, for as long as they were together. He couldn't think of anything better.\n\nWhen Rayne took the stage, Kris could feel the crowd's excitement all the way down to his bones. He kept pace with the rest of The Chokecherries as they careened through their intro song, and then everything dropped off, music and screaming cheers alike, as Rayne slunk up to the mike.\n\n\"This is our last show of the festival,\" Rayne said. The crowd cheered. \"But these kinds of things stay wild right to the end. Did everybody have a good time?\" Screams. \"Yeah? It got crazy there for a minute, let me tell you. But as long as it turns out all right in the end, that's what matters. You have to remember that.\" He turned to look at Kris. \"Now, this show\u2014I want to dedicate it to all the lovers out there. I don't care if you're fifteen or fifty or ninety-three, if it's your first love or if you met an hour ago or if you've been married for thirty years. All the lovers, and everybody who's still looking: this show is for you.\" He paused for Lenny to tap out a beat. \"So let's get started. You know how it goes. You going to show me you love me?\"\n\nThe crowd screamed and stomped and flung their hands up in worship, and Kris closed his eyes and let it all wash over him. When he opened them, Rayne was watching the crowd, leaning on his mike stand with both hands as he basked in their attention, the stage lights casting a halo down around his curls. He was larger than life, his skin shimmering with glitter, and Kris had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.\n\n\"Yeah, just like that,\" Rayne said. \"Okay. Let's roll.\"\n\nDear Reader,\n\nThank you for reading Arden Powell's A Summer Soundtrack for Falling in Love!\n\nWe know your time is precious and you have many, many entertainment options, so it means a lot that you've chosen to spend your time reading. We really hope you enjoyed it.\n\nWe'd be honored if you'd consider posting a review\u2014good or bad\u2014on sites like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Goodreads, Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, and your blog or website. We'd also be honored if you told your friends and family about this book. Word of mouth is a book's lifeblood!\n\nFor more information on upcoming releases, author interviews, blog tours, contests, giveaways, and more, please sign up for our weekly, spam-free newsletter and visit us around the web:\n\nNewsletter: riptidepublishing.com\/newsletter\n\nTwitter: twitter.com\/RiptideBooks\n\nFacebook: facebook.com\/RiptidePublishing\n\nGoodreads: tinyurl.com\/RiptideOnGoodreads\n\nTumblr: riptidepublishing.tumblr.com\n\nThank you so much for Reading the Rainbow!\n\nRiptidePublishing.com\n\nThank you first and foremost to my beta readers: Lin, for reading my very first draft and telling me about New York; Neurtsy, for assuring me it was funny and fact-checking my drug scenes; and K.D., for general encouragement and positivity, even when I'm sure I was driving her mad.\n\nThanks to my parents, Earla and Jamie, for listening to me ramble on about writing and rewriting for months on end, and promising to buy a copy (or ten) when it was done.\n\nThank you to my entire publishing team at Riptide, who made my book beautiful, but most specifically my editor: for pulling me from the purgatory of the slush pile, for excising my draft of errant semicolons, and for helping shape this book into something much better than I could have done on my own.\n\nReset to Zero\n\nThe Botanist's Apprentice\n\nArden graduated from St. Francis Xavier University with an Honours degree in English literature and the realization that essay writing is just another form of making up stories. They also came away with an overriding and all-abiding love of semicolons, to the general dismay of their editors. Arden lives in Ontario with a dog, a fellow human, and an unnecessary number of houseplants.\n\nWebsite: ardenpowell.wordpress.com\n\nTwitter: twitter.com\/ArdenPowell\n\nGoodreads: goodreads.com\/author\/show\/8053059.Arden_Powell\nEnjoy more stories like A Summer Soundtrack for Falling in Love at RiptidePublishing.com!\n\nRunning with Scissors\n\nKeeping secrets on a tour bus isn't easy.\n\nriptidepublishing.com\/products\/running-with-scissors\n\nRock N Soul\n\nHe's a ghost. I'm a bellboy. What could possibly go wrong?\n\nriptidepublishing.com\/products\/rock-n-soul\n\n","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}
+{"text":" \nS T O N E W A L L\n\nD A V I D\n\nC A R T E R\n\nS T. MARTIN'S G R I F F I N   N E W Y O R K\nSTONEWALL.  \n _Copyright \u00a9 2004 by David Carter.  \nAll rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.  \nNo part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever  \nwithout written permission except in the case of brief quotations  \nembodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address  \nSt. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue,  \nNew York, N.Y.  \n10010_.\n\n_www.stmartins.com_\n\n_Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data_\n\n_Carter, David_.\n\nStonewall: the riots that sparked the gay revolution \/ by David Carter.\n\n_p. cm._\n\n_Includes bibliographical references (p. 311) and index (p. 323).  \nISBN 0-312-20025-0 (hc)  \nISBN 0-312-34269-1 (pbk)  \nEAN 978-0312-34269-2  \n1. Homosexuality. 2. Lesbianism. 3. Gay liberation movement\u2014United States. I. Title_.\n\n_HQ76.C3155 2004  \n306.76'6'0973\u2014dc22_\n\n2004040226\n\n_First St. Martin's Griffin Edition: June 2005_\n\n_10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1_\n_To the gay street youth  \nwho fought and bled at Stonewall_\n_I have no doubt we shall win,  \nbut the road is long, and red with monstrous martyrdoms_.\n\n\u2014OSCAR WILDE,  \nLETTER TO GEORGE IVES\n\n# C O N T E N T S\n\n_Prologue_\n\nSETTING THE STAGE\n\n1. Greenwich Village, USA\n\n2. Oppression, Resistance, and Everyday Life\n\n3. On the Street\n\n4. The Stonewall Inn\n\n5. The Skull\n\n6. Dawn Is Just Breaking\n\nTHE STONEWALL RIOTS\n\n7. A Friday Night Out\n\n8. \"We're Taking the Place!\"\n\n9. Lancing the Festering Wound of Anger\n\n10. \"Christopher Street Belongs to the Queens!\"\n\n11. \"They've Lost That Wounded Look\"\n\nGAY LIBERATION\n\n12. Seizing the Moment\n\n13. \"We're the Gay Liberation Front!\"\n\n14. The Heroic Age\n\nConclusions\n\n_Author's Note_\n\n_Acknowledgments_\n\n_Notes_\n\n_Bibliography_\n\n_Oral Histories_\n\n_Credits for the Photographs_\n\n_Index_\n\n# Prologue\n\nThe Stonewall Riots were a series of violent protests and street demonstrations that began in the early morning hours of June 28, 1969, and centered around a gay bar in the Greenwich Village section of New York City. These riots are widely credited with being the motivating force in the transformation of the gay political movement. Everything else about these riots\u2014how they started and who was responsible; who were the patrons of the Stonewall Inn; who were the owners; what happened at the riots; who was there and who was not; and pretty much everything else revolving around these riots\u2014has been a bone of contention between various individuals and interest groups within and without the gay world. This book attempts to bring together everything that is known about the Stonewall Inn, the riots themselves, and the life and times of the people involved (gay men, lesbians, transvestites, and others) to present the clearest possible picture of what happened and why.\n\nIt was only a few decades ago\u2014a very short time in historical terms\u2014that the situation of gay men and lesbians was radically different from what it is today. At the end of the 1960s, homosexual sex was illegal in every state but Illinois. Not one law\u2014federal, state, or local\u2014protected gay men or women from being fired or denied housing. There were no openly gay politicians. No television show had any identifiably gay characters. When Hollywood made a film with a major homosexual character, the character was either killed or killed himself. There were no openly gay policemen, public school teachers, doctors, or lawyers. And no political party had a gay caucus.\n\nIt is common today to trace the tremendous gains made for lesbian and gay rights since the early 1970s back to the Stonewall Riots of 1969, when gay men, transvestites, and lesbians fought the police during a routine raid on a popular gay club in Greenwich Village. It is also commonly asserted that the riots, which continued on and off for six days, marked the beginning of the \"gay rights movement.\" Gay people had founded a political movement for the rights of gay people prior to Stonewall, although of modest means, and it was the Stonewall Riots that resulted in the birth of the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) and later of the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA). These exemplars of a new kind of gay organization, imbued with the militant spirit of the riots that engendered them, soon inspired thousands of gay men and lesbians across the country\u2014and ultimately around the world\u2014to join the movement for gay civil and human rights.\n\nThe immense changes precipitated by the Stonewall Riots make us want to know more about this event and to understand its causes. Yet the riots have seemed to a large degree inexplicable. Why did a sustained resistance occur when the police raided this particular club? Why did gay men take a stand at that time and at that place?\n\nResearch conducted for this history revealed that the riots occurred for a number of reasons having to do with timing, social history, cultural changes, and local history and geography, as well as political events. Moreover, many of these causes were as subtle as they were real and thus have long eluded notice. The factor of time further complicates determining the event's causes: not only did these causes and contributing factors not occur simultaneously but they were spread out over wide vistas of time, with some of the underlying causes occurring decades prior to the event while others were as fresh as that week's headlines. How these various strands eventually came together to create a turning point for the gay rights movement is the subject of this history. Given the varied nature of the riots' causes, their origins at different points in time, and their multiplicity, the way in which these factors converged to create the Stonewall Riots is an intricate story. Yet almost all the causes lay where the riots took place, in America's bohemia, Greenwich Village.\n\n# S E T T I N G\n\n# T H E\n\n# S T A G E\n\n#\n\n# Greenwich Village, USA\n\n## G R E E N W I C H V I L L A G E  \nB E F O R E T H E S T O N E W A L L R I O T S:  \nH I S T O R Y A N D T R A D I T I O N S\n\nIn the late 1960s, Tony Lauria, known to his friends and associates as Fat Tony, the son of an important Mafioso named Ernie, decided to open a gay bar in Greenwich Village. He did so despite the unhappiness it caused his father, a man so conservative that it was said that meeting with him was almost like having an audience with the pope. Ernie had made his fortune in traditional Mafia operations such as the carting business and felt that running a \"fag bar\" was for people on the lower echelons of the Mafia hierarchy. The father had high ambitions for Tony and sent him to Xavier, a Catholic preparatory school. Despite the quality education Tony had received\u2014as shown by his good diction\u2014he preferred to hang out on the street with other neighborhood boys whose thick Italian accents made them sound like actors playing mobsters. The father's success, his lofty aspirations for his son, and his displeasure at his son's barroom venture suggest that an archetypal father-son conflict may have been behind Fat Tony's decision.\n\nFat Tony's father owned the apartment building on the southwest corner of Waverly Place and Sixth Avenue, in which he and Fat Tony lived. An impressive structure, the proud building towers over its neighbors and displays knights carved in stone on its facade. At seventeen stories it is high enough that its upper floors command a fine view of the neighborhood.\n\nLooking east, Washington Square Park, for many the very epitome of the Village, is just a block away. The popular park has a history hardly suspected by the many New Yorkers who think of it only as a pleasant place to walk, little knowing, for example, that the golden leaves they enjoy strolling through in the fall have grown out of the bodies of other New Yorkers. In the city's early days, when most of New York's population still inhabited Manhattan's southern tip, a marsh covered the park. During the 1798 cholera epidemic the city desperately needed an out-of-town paupers' graveyard and drained the marsh to meet this exigency. On the northwest corner of Washington Square an extremely tall English elm tree stands only about ten feet from the park's edge. A straight line drawn west from this tree would practically hit the front of Tony's father's building. Some say the tree on the corner is the oldest tree in the entire five boroughs. Oldest or not, the Hanging Elm earned its name when Manhattan established a public gallows and chose it as the site for executions. Perhaps the city chose the tree because of its proximity to the paupers' graves, which allowed the city authorities to dispatch its least valued citizens without bothering to haul the bodies away. When the graveyard had consumed ten thousand bodies, the poor were not even shown the minimal respect ordinarily granted a final resting place, for the graveyard was converted into a military parade ground. Eventually, the beggars and the criminals had their revenge. When the army brought in their heavy artillery to show it off, the weight proved too much for the decaying bodies to support and the weapons collapsed into the unmarked graves of the poor. After that unexpected defeat, the city turned the site into a park.\n\nTo the west of Ernie's building lay another vista with a compelling past. The street that runs from the Hanging Tree to the front of the mob-owned apartment building intersects Christopher Street just where Fat Tony's new business was situated\u2014but not before passing the Northern Dispensary, the city's oldest clinic, where Edgar Allan Poe had been a patient. (Poe would no doubt have appreciated the irony that immediately adjacent to the building where sick people had gone seeking to escape the grave there was once a sausage factory; in recent years, as if inadvertently betraying its ancestry, the ground floor of the same building housed a leather clothing store.)\n\nFat Tony could hardly have found a street with a more colorful history than Christopher Street for his new business. The oldest and longest street in Greenwich Village, Christopher Street at one time extended beyond its current length to about the middle of what is now West 8th Street between Fifth and Sixth avenues. Where Christopher Street used to begin was the location of the Eighth Street Bookshop, the most influential bookstore in Manhattan for Beat literature. In 1964, when Allen Ginsberg\u2014better known to some for being openly homosexual than for his poetry\u2014returned from his long stay in India, he stayed in a room above the store while looking for a place of his own. It was at the Eighth Street Bookshop that Al Aronowitz, the _New York Post_ reporter who had written some of the first articles on the Beats, dropped by one day with a young folk singer he wanted Ginsberg to meet, namely, Bob Dylan.\n\nGiven Christopher Street's length and history, it is not surprising that a walk down even a couple of its blocks can provide a sampling of the long Village tradition of bohemian life and its influence across time. In walking from where the Eighth Street Bookshop stood to the Northern Dispensary on Christopher Street, the short physical distance traveled suggests a parallel journey of ideas over a vast expanse of time. Allen Ginsberg found inspiration in the work of Edgar Allan Poe, calling him \"the first psychedelic poet,\" making this short tour all the more suggestive, for while 8th Street had the Eighth Street Bookshop as a cutting-edge literary presence in the 1950s, in the late 1960s the street became one of the main purveyors of psychedelic posters and clothes.\n\nWhere Christopher Street begins today, at its intersection with Greenwich Avenue, we find the former site of Luke Connor's, a popular gathering place for the actors and writers of the Provincetown Players, an association of some of the twentieth century's most important talents in the theater, such as Eugene O'Neill. A few doors in from Greenwich Avenue is 11 Christopher Street, where the influential poet e. e. cummings once lived. Farther down the block, just two doors west of where the Stonewall Inn would open, was the Lion's Head, a pub popular with writers. This bar offered refuge for creative spirits from playwright Lanford Wilson and composer David Amram to writers James Baldwin, Norman Mailer, and Frank McCourt. At the end of this block of Christopher Street, at the corner of Seventh Avenue South, _The Village Voice_ 's office was in a building whose jutting triangular shape resembled a ship's prow, suggesting the forward-looking aspirations of the innovative writers and artists who worked for _The Voice;_ among them, photographer Berenice Abbott, underground filmmaker Jonas Mekas, and poet Frank O'Hara. Through its encouragement of Off Off Broadway theater, _The Voice_ helped to expand the very concept of theater.\n\nIn a subtle way, another element of the avant-garde history of these few blocks ties into this history. Just as the Village's population rose and fell over the decades and centuries, so did its reputation as a bohemian quarter. (It was the Village's reputation for unconventional lifestyles that first attracted gay people to the area around the turn of the century, as they sensed that a place known for wide tolerance might even accept sexual nonconformists.) When both Seventh Avenue and the Seventh Avenue subway line were extended south into the Village, the new easy access led to a rediscovery of the area as a bohemian enclave. This in turn led to a burgeoning of the real bohemian scene and the birth of a tourist-trap imitation one. It was in part because of the propinquity of the new subway station that Sheridan Square, close by Christopher Street, became the epicenter for both kinds of venues. These were composed mainly of clubs and another Village institution, tearooms, which were very modest restaurants that often catered to a particular clientele.\n\nWith the onset of Prohibition, artists, intellectuals, and gay men and lesbians began to socialize more and more in tearooms, since bars could no longer serve alcohol. Among the rare early American books to depict lesbian love is the autobiography of \"Mary Casal,\" _The Stone Wall_ , published in 1930. That same year, two former stables at 51 and 53 Christopher Street were merged into one building at the ground-floor level and became Bonnie's Stone Wall, which soon gained a reputation as one \"of the more notorious tearooms\" in the Village, a reputation not easily earned in a time when tearooms were routinely raided by the police. It seems reasonable therefore to assume that in naming her \"notorious\" business Bonnie's Stone Wall, the owner, presumably Bonnie, was alluding to the new memoir to send a coded message to lesbians that they would be welcomed there. The tearoom's notoriety does not seem to have harmed business, for Bonnie's Stone Wall was one of the rare cases of a tearoom that not only survived but also evolved into a full restaurant. Decades later, Bonnie's Stone Wall had lost its rebellious edge and become a popular place to hold wedding receptions and banquets and had even become a particular favorite of policemen. By the 1940s its name had already changed to the more bucolic-sounding Bonnie's Stonewall Inn, and by the 1960s it had been changed again to the Stonewall Inn Restaurant. It was the former Stonewall Inn Restaurant that, in 1967, having sat vacant for some time after a fire gutted it, metamorphosed into the gay club the Stonewall Inn. While the staid restaurant's uproarious origins were quite forgotten by the second half of the twentieth century, it seems as if fate had marked the place from its very beginnings as a site of homosexual rebellion.\n\nChristopher Street's origins go back to the time when the area that became Greenwich Village seemed remote from Manhattan's southern end, where the Dutch founded the city. When the Dutch government wanted to reward Wouter Van Twiller, the third director of New Amsterdam, with a farm, he was given two hundred acres of land within the present-day Village, near the Indian settlement known as Sapponckanican. With the passage of time, the original Dutch farmland was subdivided and resubdivided as the population of farmers slowly grew. The tempo of populating this portion of Manhattan sped up dramatically when a series of four epidemics of yellow fever and cholera struck lower Manhattan between 1791 and 1805. Early New Yorkers fled to what was then seen as an outpost so distant that they could not imagine a plague following them that far.\n\nThese flights from plague eventually transformed the Village from a rural country hamlet into an area so populous that it became necessary to lay down roads. From their earliest days, Villagers have shown a certain appreciation of their own traditions and a willingness to defend them. Perhaps the earliest manifestation of this trait occurred when the first Village roads were planned by the residents who were careful to see that the roads followed the footpaths left by the original Indians as well as those added by the early settlers. A number of the Village's original streets were therefore laid out because Indians and farmers, with their close ties to the earth, had followed paths that seemed natural to them, so that the Village's streets were created for the convenience of human feet and not for wheeled vehicles. When an attempt was made in 1817 to impose a grid plan on all of Manhattan's streets, the citizens of Greenwich Village successfully resisted the plan and the Village became the only part of Manhattan north of the Wall Street area where the new street plan was not implemented. This resistance shows that the Villagers' sense of their community as a unique place and their resistance to conformity have deep roots. To understand Villager psychology, this ingredient of feistiness must be factored in. Villagers have long been willing to fight for what they want as well as to applaud those who have the courage to stand up for their beliefs. When the antecedent to the subway trains, elevated trains (the \"el\"), were built too close to Village residences, housewives angered by the trains' loud racket are said to have stacked bricks in their kitchens to throw at the passing trains. Villagers were so proud of a leader of a riot that they named a street for him: Gay Street was named for attorney Sidney Howard Gay, the editor of the _Anti-Slavery Standard_ , to honor him for his role in the 1834 abolition riots.\n\nThe New York Public Library has a collection of 54,000 photographs of old New York, taken between the 1870s and the 1940s. The first appearance in this collection of the two buildings that would one day become the Stonewall Inn bar is a photograph taken in 1899 that shows two white horses drawing a trolley as they approach 51 and 53 Christopher Street. It is appropriate that a pair of horses are featured in the earliest image of these buildings, since they were both built to serve as stables in an era that relied heavily on animal muscle for transportation. The horses bespeak a period when Americans lived closer to the land, a slower time when people were not so alienated from their own natures or from their fellow beings. Even in bustling Manhattan, businesses took the time to pay attention to the amenities: of these two Christopher Street stables, one was home to the all-black horses that delivered goods for Saks Fifth Avenue, and one of the stable keeper's duties was to paint the horses' hooves black to match their coats.\n\nHowever, 1899 was also the year that Henry Ford started the Detroit Automobile Company and that New York City got its first fleet of taxicabs. The next image in the library's collection of these buildings is taken in 1928, and 53 Christopher Street is a French bakery. Number 51 still has \"The Jefferson Livery Stable\" emblazoned on its facade, but these words are obscured by a larger poster nailed on top of it proclaiming that the building is about to be altered into \"most desirable STUDIO APARTMENTS.\" A clear view of 51 and 53 Christopher Street is blocked by a car and a delivery truck.\n\nWhile Greenwich Village grew by fits and starts\u2014and had occasional declines\u2014it maintained a certain level of isolation until well into the twentieth century because its irregular street plan impeded a direct flow of traffic into the Village. The increasing popularity of both the automobile and the recently introduced subway system added to the public pressure to extend Seventh Avenue. At the close of World War I, Seventh Avenue, which used to end at 11th Street, was extended south, with its new section named Seventh Avenue South. _The Greenwich Village Historic District Designation Report_ , which documents 1969 Greenwich Village in detail, states that due to the extension south of both Seventh Avenue and the West Side subway line, \"the physical isolation of Greenwich Village from the main traffic routes of the City was lost forever.\" As horses and stables became rarer and rarer, gas stations and automobile supply stores filled up the small triangular plots the cut-through had made along Seventh Avenue South. The triumph of impersonal mechanical speed over a gentler and more natural mode of transportation meant that the last horses at 51 and 53 Christopher Street were evicted, and in 1930 the two buildings became one.\n\nAt the west end of the block on which the Stonewall Inn club would later open, a number of streets\u2014Christopher, Seventh Avenue South, West 4th, Sheridan Square, and Grove\u2014crisscross and converge. The resulting effect of a traffic hub in an entertainment district with busy pedestrian traffic has struck more than one observer as a scaled-down version of Times Square. Running underneath the surface of Christopher Street, a PATH commuter train connecting the Village to New Jersey runs at almost a right angle to the Seventh Avenue subway line, dropping off passengers both on lower Christopher Street, close to the Hudson River, and on 9th Street near Sixth Avenue, only about 150 feet from where Christopher Street begins. The Sixth Avenue subway was extended south at the end of the 1920s, and an entrance to the West 4th Street station, with its seven subway lines, is only a little farther away from the Stonewall Inn's door than the Christopher Street station. All in all, the Stonewall Inn was only a block away from eight subway lines, only about two short blocks away from a PATH train station, and between three major avenues: Sixth Avenue, Greenwich Avenue, and Seventh Avenue South. More significantly, the club was only a short city block and a half from Greenwich Avenue, the premier cruising ground for gay men in New York City in the 1960s. Moreover, the new bar was located the same distance from what these men called The Corner, the intersection of Greenwich Avenue and Christopher Street, the most popular meeting place for gay men on all of Greenwich Avenue. The new bar could not possibly have been more centrally located.\n\nIn addition to the highly centralized location of the Stonewall Inn, its immediate geography also had some unusual features for New York City. First, by Manhattan standards there is an unusual amount of empty space around the Stonewall Inn. Directly in front of the club lies Christopher Park and, just a little to the east of the park, the area around the triangular Northern Dispensary is fairly open, being the intersection of three streets (Grove, Christopher, and Waverly Place). Indeed, _The Greenwich Village Historic District Designation Report_ noted the way the geography of Waverly Place by the Northern Dispensary gives \"the feeling of openness, so rare in our streets today.\"\n\nThat feeling of openness sprang from the Village tradition of citizens standing up to those in power to protect their interests, for Christopher Park had formerly been the site of an awful tenement. When it burned to the ground in a fire that killed more than forty persons, Villagers protested the idea of another residential building being built there and insisted that the land be turned into a park.\n\nOther events in the history of the immediate area surrounding the small park demonstrate the Village's long history of open-spiritedness. Near the base of the triangle formed by Christopher Park is 59 Grove Street, where Thomas Paine died. Paine's pamphlets played such a vital role in starting the American Revolution that Thomas Jefferson praised him as the only American who could write better than himself, and William Blake put him in a class with Jesus as a worker of miracles for overthrowing \"all the armies of Europe with a small pamphlet.\" In spite of these accolades, Paine was so unconventional as a freethinker that he often ended up in trouble. After he went to France to support the French Revolution, he was imprisoned. When New York State gave him a free home in New Rochelle to honor him for his role in the American Revolution, his unconventional beliefs so outraged his conservative neighbors that they tried to kill him several times. At the end of his life when he needed a refuge, the Village provided it.\n\nOn the south side of Christopher Park, directly across from the buildings that became the Stonewall Inn, was the home of Phillip Stokes. Stokes had a great interest in Eastern mysticism, and so, in 1932, he invited the Indian spiritual master Meher Baba to stay in his home. It was there that Meher Baba first met the American public. He had been observing silence since 1925, communicating by means of a small board he carried on which the letters of the alphabet were painted. At the gathering at the Stokes home, Meher Baba pointed to the letters on the board to spell out his message, saying that he was observing silence only so that he could one day break it, which he said would bring about a spiritual upheaval: \"America has tremendous energy, but most of this energy is misdirected. I intend to divert it into spiritual and creative channels.\" Asked how his speaking would help such current social problems as those of politics, economics, and sex, he answered that when he spoke the results would be gradual and would affect all aspects of life. \"New values and significance will be attached to matters which appear to baffle solution at the present moment,\" he asserted. He later explained that constructive and creative forces were being released that, although working silently, would \"bring about the transformation of man.\" Harbingers of radical change\u2014artistic, political, and spiritual\u2014surrounded the diminutive triangular park.\n\nAt the west end of the block where Stonewall was located, there is a confusion of street names: Seventh Avenue South is generally called Seventh Avenue, and Sheridan Square\u2014shaped like a triangle in spite of its name\u2014is commonly referred to as West 4th Street, while everyone calls the park across the street from the Stonewall Inn \"Sheridan Square,\" even though its official designation is Christopher Park. That a statue of General Philip Sheridan looks out over Christopher Park\u2014and not Sheridan Square\u2014may have caused the confusion, whereas the statue of a Civil War general opposite an establishment named Stonewall caused at least one person to assume that the statue represented Stonewall Jackson.\n\nThe several one-way streets intersecting around Christopher Park confuse even Village residents. Someone sitting in Christopher Park, facing west and surveying the corner lampposts on the park's western end, will see that some of the lampposts have two signs, each saying ONE WAY. Because of the oblique angles at which streets intersect there, the one-way signs seem to point in opposite directions. The way streets come together into a hub here results directly from the extension of Seventh Avenue farther south. When the extension was created, it cut through the existing crazy-quilt pattern, created a century earlier when the Villagers fended off the imposition of the grid plan. With the \"quilt\" being cut again, its pattern became even crazier around the sheared-off edges, and nowhere more so than around Christopher Street, where a person standing today can see the almost surrealistic shape of some buildings sliced apart by what Villagers referred to with dread as the cut-through.\n\nThe east end of Christopher Park can be just as confusing. There Waverly Place achieves the distinction that makes it unique among all the streets of New York City: the only street in the city to wrap around itself, it does so where it crosses Christopher Street, throwing itself around the three-sided Northern Dispensary (as a New Yorker once put it, \"Where Waverly intersects Waverly intersecting Waverly\"). From this point, as if having succeeded in confusing itself, Waverly takes a sudden sharp bend like the irregular path of a drunk and continues east to Sixth Avenue. But not before running into Gay Street on its northern side, a surprisingly short street that in its own diminutive existence of one block cannot keep itself straight, veering back upon itself at an odd angle, only to turn back into Christopher Street.\n\nChristopher Street became so gay in the 1970s that some gay men wrongly assumed that Gay Street had been named in their honor. Still, from a turn-of-the-century perspective, this confused knot of streets could certainly be termed, however anachronistically, a queer geography. It was in the midst of this tangle of irregular streets and triangular open spaces that the largest gay club of the 1960s opened.\n\nTo comprehend the club's significance, however, it is first necessary to understand the various social and political forces that were shaping the specific features of the homosexual world that the Stonewall Inn would inhabit. Some of these forces were national, and many of them were specific to New York City. These factors provide the context that explains why the Stonewall Inn became a special place for gay men in general and for particular subsets of the gay population in particular. A survey of the legal situation of homosexual men and women in the United States and particularly New York City in the 1950s and 1960s will provide a framework to understand the dynamics at work in both the local gay population as well as the history of gay political organizations in New York City. The successes and failures of gay political activism did much to influence the reception and fate of the Stonewall Inn\u2014and even influenced the kind of club it would be.\n\n## T H E L A W\n\nThe homosexual is an inveterate seducer of the youth of both sexes, and... is not content with being degenerate himself; he must have degenerate companions, and is ever seeking younger victims.... Some male sex deviants do not stop with infecting their often-innocent partners [with homosexuality]: they descend through perversions to other forms of depravity, such as drug addiction, burglary, sadism, and even murder. Once a man assumes the role of homosexual, he throws off all moral restraints.\n\n\u2014 _Coronet_ , 1950\n\nThis history is one in which almost all the action takes place in the 1960s. The phrase _the sixties_ inevitably brings to mind images of freedom and rapid social and political change. The irony is that for almost the entirety of that decade homosexual men and women, far from experiencing a great burst of freedom, found themselves in the worst legal position they had been in since the republic's birth.\n\nBecause of a Puritan heritage, America's laws had traditionally oppressed those who engaged in same-sex lovemaking. With the increasing shrillness of the far right after World War II, exemplified by both a rabid anticommunism and the demand for total conformity that characterized the 1950s, laws aimed at homosexuals became so harsh that at times they were draconian.\n\nThe Defense Department hardened its policy of excluding homosexual servicemen and -women, tripling the World War II discharge rate and, in a reversal of prior practice, generally giving less-than-honorable \"blue discharges.\" These punitive discharges stripped thousands of veterans of the benefits that had been promised them in the GI Bill of Rights. After Lt. Roy Blick of the Washington, D.C., vice squad testified before the Senate in 1950 that 5,000 homosexuals worked for the government (a figure he had invented), the Senate authorized a full investigation into the matter by a subcommittee chaired by North Carolina senator Clyde Hoey. The Hoey subcommittee's report said that \"those who engage in overt acts of perversion lack the emotional stability of normal persons.\" Having concluded that \"one homosexual can pollute an entire office,\" the subcommittee urged that the military's recent purge of homosexuals be the model for civilian agencies.\n\nThe Civil Service Commission and the FBI complied by initiating an intense campaign to ferret out homosexuals by, for instance, correlating morals arrests across the United States with lists of government employees and checking fingerprints of job applicants against the FBI's fingerprint files.\n\nAfter Eisenhower became president, he signed Executive Order 10450, in April 1953, which added \"sexual perversion\" as a ground for government investigation and dismissal. The government shared police and military records with private employers, resulting in the dismissal of hundreds.\n\nWhile McCarthyism encouraged the toughening of laws toward homosexuals because they were believed to be security risks, America's Puritan tradition was producing hysteria over child molestation. Homosexuals were believed to be the main culprits. As the right-wing demonization of homosexuals proceeded apace, the negative qualities attributed to them overlapped until it became a common assumption that any homosexual man or woman was so beyond the pale that he or she must also partake of the most forbidden ideological fruit of all: communism. Homosexuals thus became handy scapegoats for both of these postwar obsessions. Antihomosexual laws were correspondingly made more severe.\n\nStates passed new laws that either stiffened the penalties for homosexual sex or created new categories to criminalize. For example, California governor Earl Warren thought the sex offender problem so serious that in 1949 he convened a special session of the state legislature to deal with the issue. That session passed laws that increased the penalties for sodomy and invented a new crime: loitering in a public toilet. The name of anyone convicted of spending too much time in a toilet was registered with the state. Twenty-nine states enacted new sexual psychopath laws and\/or revised existing ones, and homosexuals were commonly the laws' primary targets. In almost all states, professional licenses could be revoked or denied on the basis of homosexuality, so that professionals could lose their livelihoods.\n\nBy 1961 the laws in America were harsher on homosexuals than those in Cuba, Russia, or East Germany, countries that the United States criticized for their despotic ways. An adult convicted of the crime of having sex with another consenting adult in the privacy of his or her home could get anywhere from a light fine to five, ten, or twenty years\u2014or even life\u2014in prison. In 1971 twenty states had \"sex psychopath\" laws that permitted the detaining of homosexuals for that reason alone. In Pennsylvania and California sex offenders could be locked in a mental institution for life, and in seven states they could be castrated. At California's Atascadero State Hospital, known soon after its opening as \"Dachau for Queers,\" men convicted of consensual sodomy were, as authorized by a 1941 law, given electrical and pharmacological shock therapy, castrated, and lobotomized. _Gay Law_ author William N. Eskridge Jr. summed up the legal status of homosexuals at the beginning of the 1960s: \"The homosexual... was smothered by law.\"\n\nNor were transvestites spared. In New York State an old antilabor statute, passed in the nineteenth century to suppress tenant farmers who donned disguises to demonstrate against their landlords, was dusted off to use against men and women who dressed in the clothes of the opposite sex. In practice, New York police used the guideline that any person wearing fewer than three articles of clothing appropriate to their sex was, according to subsection 4 of section 240.35 of the New York Penal Code, \"masked... by unusual or unnatural attire or facial alteration\" and thus subject to arrest.\n\nIt has often been pointed out that no specific statute outlawed being homosexual, that only homosexual acts were illegal. While this is technically true, the effect of the entire body of laws and policies that the state employed to police the conduct of homosexual men and women was to make being gay de facto a crime. The very harshness of the laws made judges generally unwilling to sentence homosexual men, lesbians, and transvestites to such inhumane punishment. Instead, judges tended to hand out light fines or to place those convicted on probation. But the random or selective use of far harsher penalties and the potential threat of their use, combined with other sanctions and harassments, major and minor, official and nonofficial, more than sufficed to keep the vast majority of homosexual men and women well within the lines that society had drawn for them. Thus lesbians and homosexual men lived in an uneasy state of fear and spiritual suffocation.\n\nOnce all manner of sanctions had been created to make it difficult for homosexual men and women to meet their own kind, the police aggressively patrolled the few places where homosexuals could mingle: bars and bathhouses (both private and public) and outdoor cruising places such as streets, parks, and beaches. Agents planted microphones in park benches and used peepholes and two-way mirrors to spy on homosexuals in public rest rooms.\n\nWhile the law classified homosexuals as criminals and the scientific establishment used psychology to medicalize homosexuality into an illness, gay men and lesbians found almost universal moral condemnation from religions, whether mainstream or obscure. Thrice condemned\u2014as criminals, as mentally ill, and as sinners\u2014homosexuals faced a social reality in post\u2013World War II America that was bleak, if not grim.\n\nDoric Wilson had come to New York in 1958 from Washington State to pursue a career as a playwright and often came to the Village to meet other gay men. One Sunday he circled a block on Greenwich Avenue. He had circled the block twice already and hadn't met anyone. In the early sixties it could be hard to meet someone, the encounter was so ritualized. The shops were closed on Sundays, but he circled the block looking at the shop windows; then he walked by without looking. Then he went around the block again, passed an attractive man, and stood and feigned a studious interest in the goods displayed in the window. Would the good-looking fellow stop and also stare? Maybe the other man would signal his interest by tapping his foot as they both window-shopped. Then Doric could ask the other man if he knew the time or had a light for a cigarette? They started the long, drawn-out procedure of approach. Did he live here? What did he think of the Village? And so forth. Suddenly Doric felt a sharp pain in his back. The blow was accompanied by a command: \"Move on, faggots! Move on!\" Doric didn't bother to argue with the police officer. He just moved on.\n\nOne reason Edgar Allan Poe went to the Northern Dispensary was because it was practically next to the small row house where he had found a very inexpensive apartment. The house where Poe lived happens to be across the street from the building Fat Tony's father owned. Barry Miles wrote that \"American bohemianism is said to have started with Edgar Allan Poe,\" and the incongruous juxtaposition of the mobster's large apartment building with the bohemian's small row house in some ways parallels the paradox in which gay New Yorkers in the 1960s found themselves trapped. As word increasingly got out nationwide that there were large numbers of gay people in Greenwich Village, more and more gay men and lesbians were drawn to New York City. Eventually New York had the largest gay population in the United States, and the Village increasingly served as a center for the growing homosexual subculture. Sociologists Martin Weinberg and Colin Williams, who studied New York's homosexual population in the late 1960s, wrote that they found twenty-six bars, twelve nightclub\/restaurants, four hotels, and two private clubs that catered to homosexuals, as well as all five of the city's lesbian bars, in the Greenwich Village area. They added: \"Cruising areas abound.\"\n\nParadoxically, New York was also the city that most aggressively and systematically targeted gay men as criminals. George Chauncey's _Gay New York_ traces the rise of a visible gay population in the city from the 1890s to 1940, as well as the rise of powerful antivice societies to combat prostitution, alcohol consumption, homosexuality, and other behavior viewed as immoral. In response to the great influence that these societies exerted over politicians, police vice squads\u2014which New York City was the first to create\u2014attempted to control homosexuals by observing locales where they congregated, using decoys to entice them, and raiding gay bars and baths.\n\nWhen Prohibition ended in 1933, the state passed many laws to regulate the sale and consumption of alcoholic beverages. As the word _Authority_ in its name suggests, the laws that created the State Liquor Authority (SLA) made it undemocratic, giving it practically total leeway in administering and enforcing these laws. The SLA interpreted the laws so that even the presence of homosexuals\u2014categorized as people who were \"lewd and dissolute\"\u2014in a bar made that place disorderly and subject to closure. The result made New York City the \"most vigorous\" investigator of homosexuals before World War II. Responding to right-wing pressure after the war, New York City modernized its stakeout, decoy, and police raid operations, and continued to haul in thousands of homosexuals, sometimes just for socializing at a private party. More commonly, the police arrested gay men at bars and in cruising areas. By 1966 over one hundred men were arrested each week for \"homosexual solicitation\" as a result of police entrapment.\n\nMaking it illegal for bars to serve homosexuals created a situation that could only attract organized crime. The Mafia entered into the vacuum to run gay bars, which in turn set up a scenario for police corruption and the exploitation of the bars' customers. These victims were not likely to complain, because they had nowhere else to go and because they feared the mob. Moreover, the involvement of the Mafia in gay clubs further increased the legal vulnerability of gay men and lesbians.\n\nIn the mid-1960s\u2014the very time when a wave of freedom, openness, and demand for change was cresting\u2014New York City increased its enforcement of antihomosexual laws to such an extent that it amounted to an attempt to impose police-state conditions onto a homosexual ghetto.\n\n## R E S I S T A N C E\n\nThroughout much of American history lesbians, homosexual men, and transvestites at times offered resistance\u2014however weak, fleeting, or ineffectual\u2014to the social and legal institutions that oppressed them. The first sustainable political resistance began in 1950 in Los Angeles when Harry Hay founded the Mattachine Society. This marked the birth of the homophile movement. The founders of the Mattachine Society used the word _homophile_ because they believed that this new term, with its incorporation of the Greek word for love, could help counter the stereotype of homosexuals as obsessed with sex. The Mattachine Society took its name from medieval societies in which those playing the role of fool could speak truth to those in power.\n\nHay and his colleagues articulated in a statement of purpose a plan of action in which homosexuals who lived \"isolated from their own kind\" were, first, unified and then \"educated\" in order to develop an \"ethical homosexual culture\" similar to that of other minorities. After progress had been made toward the first two goals, the intent was \"to push forward into the realm of political action.\" The Mattachine Society began taking political action sooner than planned when a police officer entrapped one of its founders. The new organization resolved to fight the charge, a radical idea at the time. Astonishingly, Mattachine won, making their name renowned among California homosexuals and spurring a membership surge.\n\nNot long afterward, however, word began to circulate of the radical politics of some of the Society's founders, most notably Hay who had been a member of the Communist Party. When it became clear that the organization would falter if Hay did not withdraw from it, he did so at the Mattachine Society's 1953 national convention. The organization then incorporated as an educational and research group, espousing the belief that by providing accurate information about homosexuality to the public it could \"eliminate discrimination, derision, prejudice and bigotry.\" The Mattachine's new leaders, including those in New York City, reasoned that since they had no validity in society's eyes, they could borrow from those who did, namely, psychologists and psychiatrists, the supposed experts on homosexuality. The vision of political activism was lost.\n\nIn Chicago, sixteen-year-old Craig Rodwell, a high school junior in 1957, left his mother's apartment each weekday to walk to school. Although he had the money to pay the bus fare, he walked the entire distance. Craig walked to and from school on days when it was hot as well as on days when the stiff winter winds that howled in off Lake Michigan blasted the city, making pedestrians scurry to escape the misery outdoors. Money was hard to come by for Craig, whose mother's salary as a secretary was stretched thin to support him and his older brother. But Craig was a very determined young man, and he was especially eager to save all the money he could. The more he saved, the sooner he could realize his dream. Besides saving money by walking to school, Craig started asking for money for his birthday and for Christmas.\n\nOn many days after arriving at school, he walked to the library, went straight to the unabridged dictionary resting on its stand, and began to turn the pages. He continued looking until he came to the word. The word he had come to the library to see over and over again. _Homosexual_. He stared at the word as if to make sure that it was still in the same place and on the same page where he had so often seen it. To Craig, it proved that he existed.\n\nNeeding to stare at a word in the dictionary to validate his very being showed just how radically Rodwell's experience of his sexuality had changed. Only a few years before, he had easily expressed his sexuality with other boys, for he had spent much of his childhood and early adolescence in an all-boys institution run by the Christian Science church. \"We lived for our free time when we could go out in the woods. We liked the kissing and the holding hands and other things too. It was all very natural,\" he recalled. When a housemother occasionally saw Craig being intimate with another boy, she would tell them that they could not do what they were doing. Her injunctions always angered Craig.\n\nAs for Craig's being at the institution, there, too, money had played a role: his mother had sent him there after her husband had deserted her. With no income, she had to spend all her time working to support herself and her sons. And so Craig was sent away to the Christian Science School until he was fourteen, when he returned to Chicago to live with his mother. By this time his mother had remarried, and the family economic situation had improved enough that Craig could take ballet lessons.\n\nSome months after returning home, Craig was walking one night to the el with Frank, a gentle Italian dishwasher, when suddenly two police cars, their lights whirling, converged on the two. Policemen got out of the cars and separated and questioned Craig and Frank. The police refused to believe that it was the fourteen-year-old Rodwell who had picked up the older man. The district attorney put heavy pressure on Craig to lie by saying that the older man had approached him and given him money. Craig refused. Frank was sentenced to five years for having sex with a minor, even though Craig explained that he had claimed to be older. No doubt it was Craig's noncooperation with the authorities that caused them to recommend he be sent to a reformatory.\n\nThis was more than Craig's mother could bear after she had already been separated from him for so much of his life. She broke down crying and screaming, got down on her knees, and begged the juvenile hearing officer to have mercy. The officer relented and said that if Craig's mother sent him to a private psychiatrist, she would place him on probation instead of sending him away. Despite the arrest and barely escaping reform school, Craig's confidence in the rightness of his behavior was not shaken. On the contrary, he now became, in his own words, \"an angry queer.\"\n\nAbout two years later Craig met a man named Harry at Chicago's gay beach. Harry told him about the Mattachine Society and showed him some of their publications. Craig was immediately fascinated with the idea that gay people were actually organizing to do something about the way they were treated. Craig decided to go to the Chicago chapter of the Mattachine Society right away. Once at the address listed in the publication, his heart sank as he scanned the building directory in vain for the words _Mattachine Society_. He wandered the halls looking for a door with the word _Mattachine_ on it. Finally he realized that what he had imagined as a large, busy headquarters was just a mailing address. Craig felt the bottom fall out of his life.\n\nNot long afterward he heard that all queers lived in Greenwich Village. He immediately decided to move there as soon as possible, which meant after graduating from high school. He started walking to school.\n\nIn the nation's capital, on some evenings in 1959 Franklin Kameny lay awake in his bed unable to fall asleep. Malnutrition had caused him to lose so much weight that his bones hurt where they touched the mattress. Less than two years before, he had had a good job, as befitted someone with a Ph.D. in astronomy from Harvard. The job had come from the U.S. government, which had hired Kameny to make more accurate maps for the military.\n\nHe had once served in the military himself, having left college in 1943 to fight in Europe on World War II's front lines. Frank was intellectually precocious, so that when he started studying astronomy after the war, he made steady progress in his field. In the 1950s he went to a Tucson observatory to do the research for his Ph.D. thesis. After he had completed his research, he decided to travel around the country by bus on his way back to Cambridge. On a stop in San Francisco a stranger had approached him as he walked through the bus terminal. When the man walked up to Frank and groped him, plainclothes police officers emerged from their hiding place and arrested Frank and the stranger. Unfamiliar with legal proceedings, Frank did not fight the charge, since he was told that after being on probation for three years, his arrest record would be expunged. Because of the promise of expungement, Frank had not worried about the old arrest record when he applied for a job with the military.\n\nAt the end of 1957, while working on a military project in Hawaii, Kameny received a phone call summoning him to Washington immediately. Once there, he met with a representative of the Civil Service Commission.\n\n\"We have information that leads us to believe you are homosexual. Do you have any comment?\"\n\n\"What's the information?\"\n\n\"We can't tell you.\"\n\n\"Well, I can't give you an intelligent answer if you can't tell me, and in any case, I don't think it's any of the government's business.\"\n\nSoon after that terse exchange, Kameny received a standard dismissal letter. Frank decided to fight back. In the meantime, he could not find a job, because almost all the positions for observational astronomers such as himself were with the U.S. government. Unfortunately, Frank did not know anything about working at jobs other than the kind for which he had been trained. As Frank pursued his solitary fight, his funds dwindled, and he lived on food such as Jell-O, hot dogs, and mashed potatoes. On the best days, he had a pat of butter to put on his mashed potatoes. On the worst days, he had nothing to eat.\n\nHe followed the administrative appeal process all the way through to its end without success. After twenty months, Kameny finally found a science and engineering job that did not require a security clearance. For almost anyone else, that would have been the end of the fight. It was perfectly clear to Frank, however, that while he had done nothing wrong, the government had. Frank Kameny decided that the United States would have to change its policies.\n\nRandy Wicker was so determined to unravel the mysteries surrounding homosexuality in order to understand himself that he majored in psychology and sociology. He was disappointed in his studies, however, for in the academic literature he found only case studies and the standard theories of the day, such as the Freudian orthodoxy that male homosexuality was caused by a son having a weak father and a dominant mother. Yet all Randy's reading about homosexuality ultimately paid off in a different manner than he had expected when he read about a very large place where homosexuals went to meet one another: Greenwich Village. The following summer, he traveled to New York to explore the Village. Hanging out in his first gay bar, Lenny's Hideaway, Randy heard of a mysterious and very powerful organization called the Mattachine.\n\nThomas Lanigan-Schmidt grew up in the sister towns of Linden and Elizabeth, New Jersey, towns that, while having their own governments and boundaries, blend into and overlap each other on the ground. These are gritty industrial towns, whose chief industries in the 1950s and '60s were represented by companies like Singer Sewing Machine, General Motors, and Gordon's Gin. Growing up there in a time before there were any laws against air pollution, Tommy had trouble seeing how to drive his paper route through the pollution that mingled with the morning fog. The gray air that engulfed Tommy penetrated his nostrils with a sulfurous stench that reminded him of rotten eggs.\n\nPerhaps Tommy drew with bright colors to make a contrast with his gray surroundings. He loved to make pictures of parrots and peacocks. When he depicted tropical fish, he favored Siamese fighting fish because of their rich, vibrant colors.\n\nTommy attended a Catholic grammar school. There the nuns noticed Tommy's talent for drawing and put him in charge of decorating the bulletin boards. Unlike the nuns, who encouraged Tommy's artistic temperament, Tommy's father feared his son's interests indicated a lack of masculinity. In an attempt to change Tommy, his father had persuaded him to work the paper route. His father had explained that this was the path to independence and promised Tommy that he could buy anything he wanted with the money he earned.\n\nTommy set his heart on an object in the local Woolworth's that he considered an item of rare beauty: a little opalescent pink-and-gold teacup made of very thin china, with a delicate stem on its bottom and an elaborate gold handle. He dutifully saved the small amounts of money from his paper route for its purchase.\n\nWhen the great day finally came, Tommy proudly carried the cup home. Rather than being pleased at seeing Tommy use the money to buy something he wanted, his father was enraged that his son had bought a lady's teacup. The next morning Tommy found the teacup in the middle of the kitchen table, lying on its side, its small pink bottom snapped off. Tommy carried the broken teacup up to his room, carefully placed it in an Easter egg box, and hid the box.\n\nThe agitated twenty-four-year-old with a trim build, blue eyes, and brown hair was practically yelling at Dick Elman, WBAI's public affairs director. \"Why do you have these people on that don't know a damn thing about homosexuality?\" he demanded. The furious young man's piercing voice, the result of a deviated septum, certainly was irritating. Randy Wicker continued, \"They don't live it and breathe it the way I do.... I spend my whole life in gay society.\" Wicker was infuriated because the previous night New York's progressive radio station had broadcast a program on homosexuality in which the only persons talking had been straight psychologists and psychiatrists. Predictably, they had given the psychological establishment's party line on the subject. Elman replied, \"Get a group together, and I'll come up and do an interview.\"\n\nThese were words Wicker had been waiting to hear. For years Randy had tried everything he could think of to get out accurate information about homosexuals and homosexuality. His first brainstorm had come in 1958 when he had persuaded the Mattachine Society of New York (Mattachine\u2013New York) to publicize its lectures. Randy had printed and distributed hundreds of flyers, which had drawn an overflow audience. He also captured the attention of the police, who then pressured the Mattachine Society's landlord into throwing the organization out on the street. The loss of the brand-new quarters was especially painful because members of the society had just spent months renovating them. Half of the organization's fifteen members thought more firebrands like Randy were just what the organization needed and pointed to all the people who had come to the lecture. The other half pointed to the lost lease as evidence that rabblerousers like Wicker would doom the organization.\n\nWicker's next venture took place about three years later when he learned of a public forum called a speak-out that was held on the corner of MacDougal and West 3rd streets. A speaker could stand on a soapbox and talk about issues considered radical or offbeat. Randy trembled as he mounted the box, fearful that the crowd might stone him. He decided to talk about a gay bar that operated just down the street. He explained that the bar paid off the cops and that this was not in the interest of the cops, for it corrupted them. In turn, the cops corrupted the city government. It therefore served everyone's interest for homosexuals to have the right to gather in their own places. To Randy's amazement, his peroration was greeted with a round of applause. After another positive encounter at a speak-out, Randy concluded that whatever the shortcomings of their government, the American people were accepting and wanted to be informed.\n\nRandy became most angry when he read the misinformation printed whenever the media discussed homosexuality. They carefully fed the public images of homosexuals as communist spies, child molesters, or men who played a stereotypical \"queen\" role by plucking their eyebrows and speaking in a high voice.\n\nIn his determination to break the media silence on homosexuality, Wicker tried everything from having matchbooks printed with a one-line homosexual rights message to advertising unsold homophile publications for a nominal price as a \"sample packet of homosexual publications,\" ads that were rejected by most newspapers and magazines, including _The Village Voice_.\n\nWhen Randy had buttons made that said \"Equality for Homosexuals\" and wore one to a gay party, he sold a button to everyone there. Usually, however, he had little luck in promoting the cause in the homophile community. He also found the machinery of group decision-making inordinately slow for his taste and concluded that a considerable number of the Mattachine's members were either too frightened or brainwashed to fight for their rights. The group that exemplified this overly cautious mentality for Randy was the West Side Discussion Group, a gay social group sponsored by the Mattachine Society that tended to be home to the most conservative members and affiliates of the homophile movement. The liberal attitude toward homosexuality in the late fifties and early sixties was that homosexuals were not criminals but mentally ill people who might be cured if given understanding and a lot of expensive therapy. The West Side Discussion Group was so conservative, however, that some of its members were not even able to digest the liberal theory. One of them said to Wicker, \"How can we expect the police to allow us to congregate? Let's face it; we're criminals. You can't allow criminals to congregate.\" Randy blew up at the man, saying, \"It disgusts me. Why do I have to sit here and listen to idiots like you say things like that? You've let society brainwash you.\"\n\nIn the spring of 1962 Randy finally got so fed up that he formed his own one-man operation, the Homosexual League of New York. He had business cards printed and presented himself to WBAI as the public relations director of the \"organization.\"\n\nOn a humid spring night several weeks after Wicker had confronted Elman, the WBAI public affairs director arrived at the Upper West Side apartment of a friend of Randy's. With the windows open, the eight men Wicker had assembled sat on the floor with Elman to tape a candid discussion of their lives. Realizing that it was breaking new ground, WBAI sent out a press release about the broadcast, bringing the event to the attention of Jack O'Brian, a columnist with the _New York Journal-American_. O'Brian was deeply offended by the very idea of such a program. Labeling Wicker an \"arrogant, card-carrying swish,\" O'Brian suggested the station change its call letters to WSICK. The media-savvy Wicker realized that he had just been handed an opportunity and, with characteristic energy, carried copies of O'Brian's article to newspaper and magazine offices until it had reached the desk of every news editor in the city.\n\n_The New York Times_ did two stories on the broadcast. In a review headlined \"Radio: Taboo Is Broken,\" _The Times_ pronounced that the program \"succeeded... in encouraging a wider understanding of the homosexuals' attitudes and problems.\" _Newsweek_ gave the event a full page. _The Realist_ used several of its issues to print an entire transcript of the ninety-six-minute program. And _Escapade_ , a _Playboy_ imitator, printed a condensed version of the transcript. The _New York Herald Tribune_ and _Variety_ carried favorable articles as well.\n\nThe immediate payoff had been golden, but the resourceful Wicker leveraged it into platinum. He assembled copies of the transcripts and the extensive press coverage and sent them to writers whom he continued to buttonhole, offering \"field trips\" into homosexual New York. As historian John D'Emilio noted, the coverage of homosexuality in the national media from 1962 to 1965 increased markedly as a result of Wicker's campaign. Articles on the subject in the _Reader's Guide to Periodical Literature_ increased sixfold between 1962 and 1963 alone. A crack had been made in the wall of media silence.\n\nArthur Evans took his belt off, went to the closet in his small dormitory room, and opened the door. After scrutinizing the clothes bar in the closet, he decided his idea would work. He could attach his belt to the bar, wrap the belt around his neck, and end his life.\n\nMost people would have figured that a student in his junior year of college at an Ivy League school who was bright enough to be there on a full scholarship would have everything in life to look forward to. All the more so considering that he had come from a poor, working-class family in a dismal neighborhood of York, Pennsylvania.\n\nArthur was tortured by his overpowering feelings of attraction toward other boys. He had experienced these feelings since age eleven, when puberty hit early and hard. He knew that his longings were dangerous and was careful not to act on them, believing that if other boys found out how he felt he'd be beaten up or killed. When he tried to read about homosexuality in the school library, he found only Freudian theory; in the Bible, condemnation.\n\nArthur felt he had to escape York. He found the means to leave when he won a scholarship from the local paper company to study chemistry at Brown University. Though Brown at that time enrolled only males, Arthur at first found no sign there of other men who felt as he did.\n\nArthur was beginning to be interested in political activism. He started the Free Thinkers Society of Brown with his roommate, Michael. While Brown was a secular institution, it had a weekly chapel service at which attendance was compulsory. Considering themselves militant atheists, Arthur and Michael hatched a plan to protest the service. They demonstrated in front of the chapel, handing out leaflets and urging those who agreed with them not to stand but to sit through the chaplain's prayer. Arthur and Michael got five students to join them. This surprised Arthur, for this was before campus protests became common.\n\nThe protest made the front page of one of Arthur's two hometown newspapers. The Glatfelter Paper Company, which had given Evans his scholarship, was run at that time by Christian fundamentalists. After the article on the protest appeared, Glatfelter informed Arthur that it was revoking his scholarship. Arthur then got in touch with Joseph Lewis, the millionaire head of the National Free Thinkers Society, and explained the threat Glatfelter had made. Lewis wrote to Glatfelter saying that if they terminated Evans's scholarship, he would sue them and drag their name through the mud in the media. Glatfelter then backed down. This victory over the paper manufacturer became a shaping event for Arthur's future.\n\nEvans's triumph convinced him to change his major to political science. Arthur concluded that the confrontation with Glatfelter offered several lessons for successful political activism: take a principled stand, be smart about it, get a lot of media attention, and have some friends who can pull strings for you.\n\nMeaningful as it was, Evans's victory did not solve the problems of loneliness and sexual frustration. Instead, the feelings intensified. Even worse, other students were coming on to him. Evans couldn't believe they were like him, so they could only be coming on to him because they wanted to get him to give himself away. This was more than he could bear.\n\nEvans decided to act. He went to the closet and had just started the preparations for ending his life when a wave of deep dread came over him. An image of standing on the edge of a precipice above a pit so deep it had no bottom welled up before him. A sudden wave of nausea swept over Evans, and he stepped back from the edge.\n\nSoon afterward, in the spring of 1963, Arthur picked up a national magazine and read in it that a lot of homosexuals lived in Greenwich Village. That he was not alone after all was a complete and sudden revelation. Evans decided to give up his scholarship and move to New York City.\n\nDick Leitsch was born in Kentucky, which he called \"the land of horse-shit, tobacco and the mint julep.\" His Kentucky childhood was in many ways typical. For example, on Saturdays he went with his friends to the movies. But while his companions fantasized about being cowboys, westerns failed to engage Dick's imagination. He was, however, mesmerized by the great screen actresses of the forties and fifties. The lives they portrayed in urban settings made Kentucky seem decidedly lackluster. Dick began to dream of \"going to New York, drinking cocktails, smoking cigarettes, and having stupid love affairs, just like Bette Davis.\"\n\nWhile Leitsch may have found Kentucky lacking in cultural sophistication, there was some sophistication about homosexuality, both in the larger society and in Dick's Catholic family. Dick's mother had gay male and lesbian friends who were couples and came over to the house and visited. His parents were totally accepting of his homosexuality when the first man with whom Leitsch had sex indiscreetly sent him flowers the following morning with a love note attached.\n\nHis mother asked, \"Is it true? Is this your boyfriend?\"\n\n\"I had sex with him last night.\"\n\n\"Well, Father Valentine used to be a chaplain in a prison and said that you would probably grow up to be a homosexual. We've been watching and thought that you probably were. I guess he was right.\"\n\nDick's parents continued to be supportive, urging him to introduce them to his friends. Meanwhile, Dick's childhood fantasies about New York as the epitome of sophistication had continued to grow as he listened at night to live radio broadcasts from the Stork Club and the Copacabana.\n\nAfter moving to Cincinnati in 1958, he and Derrick, a man who had lived in New York but had not liked the city, became lovers. Leitsch ultimately persuaded Derrick to give it another try. Derrick went back first, got reestablished, and wrote to Dick to come join him. Arriving at Pennsylvania Station in early 1959, Leitsch was greeted by Derrick. They got into a taxi and, as the cab passed through Times Square, Dick saw the crossroads of the world and felt intensely happy. It looked just as he had imagined it, except that in color it looked, if possible, even better.\n\nOn Sundays Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt often went with his friend \"Mark\" Vag to the Greek Catholic church Mark attended. Tommy had easily embraced the Catholic church in which he was raised, but when the nuns sent him to the grammar school library to do his bulletin board artwork, he discovered the highly mystic traditions of the Russian and Greek Orthodox churches. The school library had Greek Orthodox volumes because there was a local population of Greek Catholics, who belonged to a branch of Catholicism that blended Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox teachings.\n\nTommy had been shocked as a Cub Scout when his den mother, in spite of Mark being a member of the den, had warned them to stay away from the local Greek Catholic church because the priest there had a wife. He also felt sorry for Mark because the local toughs would mock his name, walking up to him and saying loudly, \"Hey, Mark FAG!\"\n\nGood male friends were not plentiful in Tommy's young life. The tougher kids in school picked on him. Between classes they would walk up to him and hit him hard in the stomach.\n\nTommy had befriended Mark, and Mark in turn invited Tommy to attend his church. The rich fabric used by the priests, the highly ritualized ceremonies, and the abundant use of incense immediately appealed to Tommy's spiritual and aesthetic sensibilities. The local Greek Catholic church had held an air of mystery for young Tommy, especially when he saw its doors standing open on Easter mornings.\n\nNow that he was in high school, he was old enough to stay up till midnight, the symbolic hour of deepest darkness, when the Greek Catholic Easter service begins. As Tommy entered the church, something seemed odd. Gradually, he realized that no candles were lit. A life-size portrait of Jesus on a piece of cloth was arrayed over a large coffin-shaped box. A priest emerged and told everyone to leave the church. As the worshipers left, they intoned slowly and repeatedly, \"Christ is risen from the dead,\" in a droning dirge that was deep and sad.\n\nAs they left the church some worshipers stumbled in the darkness. By late night in a factory town like Linden, the air smells heavy because the factories release much of their effluvium in the evenings, and by this time of night the polluted air had settled down to street level. The foul odors intensified the plainsong's sadness.\n\nThe chant continued mantralike until all the congregants were outside. Then the singing stopped and the words were intoned. The pace of the chant quickened until it was almost frenetic. Suddenly a priest holding a large gold Bible stepped forward. He was wearing the brightest vestments Tommy had ever seen: gold embroidery spangled with silver threads shimmered in the candles' light. The priest read the story of Jesus' disciples going to the tomb and seeing the angel who said, \"He is risen.\" The crowd repeated, \"Christ is risen.\" The priest approached the church's double doors and knocked loudly on them with his crook: _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ And the doors sprang open.\n\nTheir candles lit, there was a rush of fire as the churchgoers hastened inside, chanting, \"And on those in the tombs bestowing life!\" a moment in the ritual that represents being brought back from death's realm into life. Inside, Tommy found the church transformed: every chandelier was turned on, all of the church's bells began pealing, the choir started to sing, and the church, previously bare, was filled with flowers. As he stepped back outside the church into Linden's foul air, Tommy had an inexplicable feeling of hope. This moment was to return to him unexpectedly years later.\n\nSoon after his arrival, Dick Leitsch was introduced to New York City's gay scene, including the neighborhood he initially settled in, the Upper West Side. Curiously, many of the places that were pointed out to Dick had recently been closed down, from Milano's, a rough trade bar, to the All-State Caf\u00e9, a dance bar, to Omega, a hustler bar, as well as many others. This shuttering of gay businesses was the result of a recent and massive campaign of police harassment under Mayor Robert Wagner. During the crackdown the licenses of gay businesses had been revoked. Many people had been arrested, and many more had been entrapped and harassed. The mayor's campaign against gay men was the main topic of conversation in the gay male world. Although Leitsch found a much bigger homosexual scene in Manhattan than he had known in Louisville, he noticed that it was more underground. \"I just couldn't believe that was happening in New York, which I thought was the capital of civilization. It had never occurred to me that it was going to be more conservative than my hometown.\"\n\nAs Arthur Evans settled into his new life in New York City, he often went to Washington Square Park to sit and read. Politics remained very much on his mind, and as he contemplated the park's arch, built to honor George Washington, he noticed a quotation by the revolutionary inscribed on the arch's top: \"Let us raise a standard to which the wise and the honest may repair.\" Whenever he returned to the park, he read the inscription, which seemed to speak to him.\n\n#\n\n# Oppression, Resistance, and Everyday Life\n\nDick Leitsch went to Greenwich Village from time to time, but he found gay men there a bit cliquish and self-consciously bohemian. He found a real communal social life with other gay men in the area along Central Park West, where homosexual men went to relax by socializing at evening time.\n\n\"Every night after dinner we'd go walk on Central Park West and we'd run into all of our friends, the people we worked with, and half the West Side gay people\u2014which were thousands\u2014on Central Park West between 59th and 86th. In those days, there was one long bench from corner to corner, solid with gay men. Hundreds and thousands of them walked back and forth singularly, in couples, and in groups.\"\n\nThe huge chattering crowds made a considerable din, which led to complaints from nearby residents, and the police would make from three to five sweeps along the park most nights. A sweep might consist of a single car or as many as six at a time, each with large bright lights mounted on its top. While driving by and shining the lights on the gay men, the police used megaphones to order, \"Move on. Keep moving, faggots. Keep moving.\" Dick recalls that the gay men would all get off the benches and walk up the street very slowly, as though they were going home. Once the police cars disappeared from view, the gay men would scramble back to the benches, wait for the police to circle again, and repeat the same charade.\n\nLate in the winter of 1962 a suave, tall, and handsome thirty-two-year-old Wall Street banker was cruising Central Park West. When he reached 88th Street, he noticed an attractive man and approached him. The banker's name was Harvey Milk and the man he had cruised was Craig Rodwell.\n\nCraig Rodwell and Harvey Milk had little in common. Milk was Jewish and a native New Yorker, whereas the midwestern Rodwell described himself as a Christian Scientist. The banker held the right-wing political values common in his profession, while the young ballet student was politically progressive. Whereas Rodwell was eager to take on the whole world's prejudice against homosexuality, Milk was very secretive about his sex life.\n\nWhen Craig had arrived in New York in the late summer of 1959, he was only eighteen, yet he felt it had taken him forever to get to a city with an active Mattachine chapter. On arriving at the Mattachine\u2013New York office, Rodwell was told that he could not join because he was too young: he would have to wait until he was twenty-one. Craig could not wait that long. On his own he made up flyers urging people to join the Mattachine Society and put them in the mailboxes of Village residences with two men's names on them, figuring that the recipients were probably a gay couple.\n\nWhile Rodwell was studying at the American Ballet School thanks to a scholarship, he had little money left over for living expenses. He got a low-paying job in a flower factory and did not make enough money to go to gay bars. One night while he was cruising in Washington Square Park a police officer gave Craig the usual order to move on. Rodwell retorted, \"This is harassment of homosexuals.\" The officer immediately arrested him and took him to jail. Craig's resistance was unprecedented. That night in jail one policeman after another came by Rodwell's cell to see the upstart homosexual. \"What'sa matter, lose your purse?\" baited one. Craig shot back, \"What'sa matter, never seen a faggot before?\"\n\nRodwell continued to haunt Manhattan's cruising grounds until he met Milk, with whom he would have his first serious romance. Each morning, Milk, a born romantic, gave Craig a wake-up call invariably accompanied by a joke. On Christmas morning, Harvey, the son of Orthodox Jews, arrived early, laden with presents that showed thoughtfulness and a romantic touch. Craig was soon swept off his feet.\n\nBut the pair's divergent politics tested the romance. While in his early teens Rodwell had idolized Adlai Stevenson, Milk had championed Barry Goldwater. When Rodwell told Milk about another of his evening forays putting flyers into mailboxes, Milk yelled at him, \"You shouldn't do that to people! Getting those in mailboxes will make people paranoid that everyone knows about them being gay.\"\n\n\"You're just thinking about how you would react if it showed up in your mailbox,\" Rodwell retorted.\n\nThere were other problems beyond politics. When Milk discovered that he had gonorrhea, he concluded Craig had been unfaithful, for Milk had not slept with anyone else after the two had started dating. When Milk confronted Rodwell, Craig admitted to having sex with other men, even though he was in love with Harvey.\n\nIt was not only homosexuals from out-of-state who heard about the Village and found their way there. Jerry Hoose recalls his first trip there as an eighteen-year-old: \"Around the end of '63 or the beginning of '64, I heard about Greenwich Village. I was living in Brooklyn and kept dreaming about finding other gay people. One day I just said, 'I got to find it!'\n\n\"And I got on the train and got off at 8th Street. I got to Sixth Avenue and 8th Street, at that time the Mecca: it was Greenwich Avenue from Sixth Avenue to Mama's Chick'N'Rib on Charles Street. I crossed Sixth Avenue and I saw all these very gay-looking people, and I said, 'Well, I've found my world.'\"\n\nTree is another native New Yorker who discovered the Village as a gay place in his teen years. His favorite place was not a bar but the restaurant many gay men from the era still remember affectionately, Mama's Chick'N'Rib. With perhaps a touch of hyperbole, Tree remarks, \"It was considered the gay hangout of the world.\" Tree was at Mama's so often he ended up working there in the late 1950s.\n\n\"This place was more crowded than any bar. Of course the bars in those times were all owned by the Mafia\u2014they charged you to get in, watered down drinks, a little roughing up if you got too drunk. But Mama's Chick'N'Rib was a home. We had a waiter there named Jack. They called him Joan Crawford. And there was myself, Jerry, Garth, and a few others.\n\n\"Now, certain nights, when it was all friends in the place, we wouldn't let anybody in. We would lock the door because we were packed. And we'd fog up the windows by turning the heat and air-conditioning on, so there was a little dancing, a little kissing here and there. Everybody would eat and drink for free all night long and then in the morning when everybody knew Mama was coming, Jack would pass around two boxes, one for the register and one for the tips. Everybody would throw money in both of them. And at the end of the night Mama looked in the cash register and she was so happy. She made five, six hundred dollars and Jack and Garth and everybody that worked there was happy because they made like fifty, sixty dollars for their tips, which is a lot of money in the fifties. Mama never knew the difference.\n\n\"She was a little old Greek lady that you had to love her or hate her....In all the years she had Mama's she only wore two dresses. One was blue and one was black. She had a favorite strand of pearls and wore them every day. She looked on all the customers in her place as her children. It was 'my boy' this, and 'my boy' that, and as she talked to you she always played with her pearls. She could hold a handful of coins for a minute and then tell you to the penny how much was in her hand.... She counted french fries, sliced tomatoes that you could read a newspaper through. If you dropped food on the floor, it went back on the plate. It was that kind of place, but movie stars were seen in there.\"\n\nEven though Mama's was not run by the Mafia, as the place catered to gay people, Mama still had to pay off the police. \"Brown bag Friday it was called. Cops would come around to bars and restaurants that catered to gay people, and they would have a little brown bag like a container of coffee with no coffee in it. It was all full of money for the neighborhood precincts\u2014uptown, downtown, midtown. 'You want your windows broken?' 'No.' 'Well, you let all these fags hang out in there.' So, we had to give a little envelope every once in a while.\"\n\nOn Labor Day weekend of 1962, Craig Rodwell headed for the beach like millions of his fellow Americans. The beach Craig chose, however, was the one at Riis Park, where thousands of gay men and lesbians congregated. After he had enjoyed the beach for a while, he headed for the bathhouse, where hot dogs and soda were sold. Craig had heard the talk on the beach that since this was a homosexual beach, on Memorial Day and Labor Day the police enforced a blue law written early in the century that outlawed a man wearing a bathing suit that did not cover his navel and reach at least the midway point between his knees and his groin.\n\nCraig left the beach without a towel nonetheless. When he reached the boardwalk, the policeman stationed there started writing him a ticket. Craig protested that this was harassment of homosexuals and that they all knew what was going on, it was a quota system, and...\n\nA crowd began to collect.\n\nThe policeman quickly grabbed Craig and hustled him into a small room maintained by the police inside the bathhouse. As soon as the policeman had Craig behind the closed door, he slammed him down on the hard floor. \"Faggot!\"\n\nCraig Rodwell had always been told to tell the truth as part of his Christian Science upbringing. He had learned that following that precept could be dangerous for himself as well as for others. When Frank had been arrested in Chicago, he had lied, saying he was Craig's uncle. Craig had told the truth and the dishwasher had been sent to prison for years. The district attorney had told Craig to lie and he had not, which was why his mother had had to get down on her knees, crying, to keep her son from also being sent away.\n\nAfter being arrested at Riis Park, Craig appeared before a judge who gave him a court date. The kindly judge who had taken him into his chambers said the fine would be routine and to be sure and bring the amount to pay it, around twelve dollars. Two weeks later Craig went to court carrying the cash. He found, however, that a charge of inciting to riot had been added to the charge of violating the dress regulation. Asked by the judge what had occurred, Craig said that the charge of inciting to riot made no sense, that he'd been immediately hauled into a small room away from the public. The judge dismissed the charge. Asked about the other violation, Craig turned to look into the face of the judge, who was sitting right next to him. Craig explained how the law worked, that it was an old law currently used only to harass homosexuals.\n\nCraig saw the immediate change in the judge's eyes on hearing the word _homosexuals_. His face turned beet red as he banged his hammer down on the gavel, looked away from Craig, and gave him the maximum penalty, twenty-five dollars. Since Craig did not have that much money on him, he had to go to jail for three days.\n\nRodwell remembered that after his arrest in the park, the police had come by his cell for hours to taunt him. He knew they had been looking for an excuse to work him over, so he had held his tongue except for the one mild rejoinder when he had asked the guard if he was the first \"faggot\" he had seen. He also remembered that when he'd been asked his name at Riis Beach, after he had answered, the officer had taunted him by asking him to give it over and over again.\n\nAsked his name at the prison, he refused to give it. Within a short time, a huge guard walked into the holding area where Craig was.\n\n\"All right, where's the guy who won't talk?\"\n\nSomeone pointed to Craig. The guard slammed Craig's head against the wall, took his wallet from his pocket, and held it upside down so that its contents fell out.\n\n\"Pick it up!\"\n\nHis head bleeding, Craig got down on his knees to gather up the pieces of paper. Through his tears, he could make out the photograph of his mother.\n\nSeveral days had passed since Craig had not returned home, and Collin, Rodwell's roommate, had no idea what had happened to him. The phone rang and Collin answered. Harvey Milk again. No, Collin still didn't know where Craig was. Milk had slowed down on calling Craig after he had gotten gonorrhea from him, but with Craig gone and his roommate having no idea why, he was very concerned.\n\nWhen Craig was released from prison, he got together with Harvey. Craig noticed Milk's strange expression on seeing Rodwell's shaved head. When the wake-up calls came even less frequently, Craig understood that in the eyes of the conservative Milk, he was now not only unfaithful but also a marked man who might endanger Milk's very successful career.\n\nShattered over the end of the relationship, Craig decided to take his life. He got rid of his cats, gave notice at his job, and dropped out of school. He bought a bottle of the depressant Tuinal. When Collin went out to a double-feature movie one night, Craig started taking the pills. He'd already written a note asking Collin to call Craig's aunt on finding the body. Above all, Craig didn't want his mother to get the news from a policeman.\n\nWhen Craig Rodwell opened his eyes in Harlem Hospital, he saw a police officer. Although Craig was tied down, the very sight of a cop so infuriated him that he bolted upright with enough energy to break the restraints. His roommate, Collin, had been bored at the movies and come home early and found Craig unconscious. Chance had caused his attempted suicide to fail, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be alive.\n\nA long difficult period followed. After a month in the Bellevue psychiatric ward he was transfered to St. Luke's psych ward. Then a wandering period in which Craig moved to Pleasantville, New York, Chicago, and on to Hollywood. As soon as he got off the bus in Los Angeles, Craig realized he'd made a mistake. He stayed for about a month, during which time John Kennedy was assassinated. By January 1964 Craig was back in New York.\n\nStriving to give meaning to his life, Craig decided to work for the gay movement and volunteered to work full-time at the Mattachine Society. At the Mattachine office he typed the newsletter, edited it, stuffed envelopes, and did anything else that needed doing. He found using all his free time in this way \"just thrilling.\" Craig Rodwell had found his life's calling.\n\nThe marginal quality of homosexual existence was rendered literal in the Village along the waterfront. While the shores of oceans, lakes, and rivers are still used in many cities by gay men as places to meet because of the privacy they afford, in the postwar Village the banks of the Hudson River became a meeting place because of the trucking industry. Commercial trucks that hauled produce and other cargo into the city usually unloaded their goods either at warehouses or at the waterfront loading docks. While the trucks were waiting for a load to take back out of the city, the empty trucks were parked unattended, with the backs unlocked.\n\nMarle Becker recalls the orgies that took place in the trucks: \"There was no fence. The trucks would back right up to the river and it was pitch-dark in there. Every now and then you could see somebody with a cigarette in back of a truck. There would sometimes be two or three hundred people in them.\" While Becker enjoyed the sex in the trucks, he adds: \"If we had our druthers we would have been happier checking into a hotel like any other couple, but that wasn't always an option for us.\" As for the criticism aimed at homosexual men by heterosexuals for having sex along the riverbank, Becker remembers how on his first visit to New York City he and his lover had been refused a hotel room because they were gay: \"There wasn't any place for us to go. If you didn't have an apartment or if you had roommates or what have you [the only option] was to have sex in Central Park or the trucks or some out-of-the-way place where hopefully you didn't get caught and arrested.\" Even an invitation by another person to his place could be problematic: would the other person turn violent or turn out to be a plainclothes policeman? \"It was like, should I trust this person, shouldn't I trust this person? You didn't know from one minute to the next what was going to happen. So it was safer to be with two hundred people in the back of a truck.\"\n\nAdding to the Village waterfront's appeal as a gay outpost, there were at various times in the postwar era a few waterfront bars that catered to homosexuals. The best-known of these, Keller's, operated in the sixties as a seaman's bar during the day and a gay bar at night.\n\nIn the postwar era, even in the Village, most social life for gay men took place in bars. Under increasing police pressure, the gay male bar and cruising scene migrated from West 8th Street to Greenwich Avenue between Sixth Avenue and Seventh Avenue South, until eventually in the early 1960s Greenwich Avenue became gayer than 8th Street.\n\nAlthough police pressure had been very severe in 1960, it probably reached its apogee beginning in 1963 under the administration of Mayor Robert Wagner as the city began a concerted drive to make homosexuals invisible in time for the 1964\u201365 World's Fair in New York City.\n\nPhilip Bockman arrived in New York City in 1963 after falling victim to a campaign of harassment at the University of Michigan. Called into the dean's office the day after he had refused to give the names of other gay students to a police officer who had roughed him up, he was told that unless he \"changed his ways\" he \"really should not be registered at the school.\" He recalls, \"I did come to New York, only to find that Mayor Wagner had this crackdown on the gay bars. Everything was closed up when I got here. The only gay bar open was the Cherry Lane. There were a few others that operated very surreptitiously. In 1964 for the World's Fair they started entrapping people as much as they could to clean up the homeless, the prostitutes, and the homosexuals. A lot of people were caught in that dragnet. I remember going to bars and some of the undercover policemen got to be known because they would always be in the bars and some people got to know who they were. I remember a couple of instances where we would form a circle around them and we'd spread the word to everybody in the bar. Sometimes we'd even follow them from bar to bar.\"\n\nEdmund White, who came to New York in 1962, recalls: \"During the World's Fair time, the mayor didn't want there to be a gay image to the city so he closed virtually all the bars. It felt to me, like whereas gays used to cruise in a rather furtive way on Greenwich Avenue, they were now coming down Christopher Street and moving farther and farther down toward the water.\"\n\nIt seems likely that gay men who cruised Greenwich Avenue and did not find a sexual partner had established the practice of circling the block again, and Christopher Street was one of the most convenient places to turn back for such a maneuver. The sex scene at the trucks and one or two waterfront bars also began to draw men there, and the most direct route from Greenwich Avenue was down Christopher Street.\n\nOne winter night in 1964 Dick Leitsch was walking down Greenwich Avenue and spotted a boy who struck him as very pretty standing in the doorway of a bakery at the corner of Greenwich Avenue and Christopher Street. It had been almost two years since Leitsch's love affair with Derrick had ended when Derrick decided for the second time that he did not like New York City and had decamped for Florida. The young man Leitsch had eyed started walking down Christopher Street, stopped, and leaned up against a building. The maneuver struck Leitsch as odd, for gay men cruised on Greenwich Avenue and on 8th Street, not on Christopher Street. Nonetheless, Leitsch followed him. The two men struck up a conversation, and Dick accepted Craig Rodwell's invitation to his apartment.\n\nCraig and Dick started seeing each other, but when Rodwell told Leitsch that he was in the Mattachine Society, Leitsch laughed at him. Dick had been to a Mattachine\u2013New York meeting in 1962 and heard Albert Ellis, a psychologist on the board, give a talk on homosexuality as illness and was appalled when Ellis got a standing ovation from the membership. Leitsch may have been bemused by Rodwell's involvement in Mattachine, but he soon learned that it was total. \"Every time I called Craig and said, 'You want to go to the movies,' he said, 'I have to go to Mattachine.' Finally, just to be with him, I started hanging out at Mattachine.\"\n\nConcerning the relationship between Leitsch and Rodwell, there is little that the two men agreed on except that it did not last long and ended badly. Rodwell maintained that he never wanted more than a sexual relationship and that Leitsch was obsessed with him to the point of being violent; Leitsch states the opposite, that it was Rodwell who \"decided that he was going to be my lover.... He seizes on you and won't let go.\" Whatever the truth of the matter, the two agree that it was because of their sexual involvement that Leitsch got involved in Mattachine\u2013New York.\n\nAlthough Rodwell had not been able to join formally because of his age, he had been active in Mattachine prior to 1964. He and Randy Wicker strongly advocated that the organization abandon the educational and research approach and take a militant stance. Frank Kameny had, with Jack Nichols, founded the Mattachine Society of Washington (Mattachine-Washington) in 1961. After Kameny and Nichols met Rodwell and Wicker, the four of them worked together to share strategies and support one another in their quest for a militant homophile movement. They were further supported by and worked with a lesbian couple, Barbara Gittings and Kay Tobin.\n\nLesbians had started their own organization, the Daughters of Bilitis (DOB), not long after the Mattachine Society was founded. If lesbians were less likely to draw the attentions of the police than homosexual men, that was in part because they had fewer institutions, whether social, political, or cultural. The needs of American lesbians were so basic in the 1950s that DOB turned inward to try to meet those needs by providing discussion groups and get-togethers. Barbara Gittings founded the New York chapter of DOB in 1958 and served as its president until 1961, the same year she met Kay Tobin. When Gittings met Frank Kameny in 1963, he greatly influenced her thinking and attitudes. \"If you take the position that Frank has (that homosexuality is fully on par with heterosexuality) then you get a very clear view of what you have to do. He really crystallized my thinking.\" In 1962, Barbara had become editor of DOB's publication, _The Ladder_. Influenced by Kameny's and Wicker's militancy, she used her editorship to try to edge DOB toward an activist stance.\n\nAs a dialogue got under way between militants Rodwell, Wicker, and Kameny and members of the Mattachine\u2013New York board, the board began to listen more seriously to what the militants had to say. One board member in particular, Julian Hodges, a rising star within Mattachine\u2013New York, seemed more open than the others. When he became the organization's president-elect (the equivalent of vice president) he invited Kameny to give the organization's 100th public lecture.\n\nIn July, Kameny came up to New York from Washington, proclaiming like a fiery Old Testament prophet the message that a militant civil rights and social action approach was the way for gay men and lesbians to achieve their rights. Kameny argued that the homophile movement should be modeled on the black civil rights movement as formulated by nonviolent militant leaders such as Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. Kameny warned of the dangers inherent in the position that homosexuality was a mental illness. Having used his scientific background to study the psychological literature, Kameny stated that \"until and unless valid, positive evidence shows otherwise, homosexuality, per se, is neither a sickness,... a neurosis, a psychosis, nor a malfunction of any sort.\"\n\nKameny courageously carried his logic to its conclusion, saying, \"Not only is homosexuality... not immoral, but... homosexual acts engaged in by consenting adults are moral,... right, good, and desirable, both for the individual participants and for... society.\"\n\nThe effect of Kameny's passionate and eloquently argued speech was electric. Dick Leitsch, who read Kameny's speech over a dozen times, credited it with making him political for the first time in his life.\n\nLeitsch started putting in so many hours volunteering at the Mattachine office that Hodges asked him to become his assistant. Leitsch became editor of the organization's newsletter as well and used it to further the militants' agenda by emphasizing coverage of legal, political, and governmental events that bore on homosexuality and by writing in support of the black civil rights movement.\n\nHodges and his supporters decided to run a slate of militant officers in the 1965 Mattachine\u2013New York elections. Hodges's slate included Kameny, the progressive psychologist Dr. Hendrick Ruitenbeek, and Dick Leitsch. Their ally Randy Wicker, ever the individualist, ran for the office of secretary as an independent. Leitsch was urged to run for president-elect and accepted the nomination in spite of not wanting the position. (Leitsch had urged Rodwell to run for president-elect, but Rodwell refused.) In his campaign statement, written by Rodwell, Leitsch promised to work to end police entrapment, discrimination by government and private agencies, and discrimination and prejudice in general against homosexuals. The militants won the May election in a sweep, making Julian Hodges the president of Mattachine\u2013New York.\n\nThose were heady times for the insurgent activists. Having elected a slate of militants to run New York's Mattachine Society, they pressed forward with what were probably the two most controversial (and for the militants exciting) ideas in the homophile movement: public demonstrations in support of homosexual rights and an attack on the psychological establishment's position that homosexuality was a mental illness.\n\nPicketing proved to be the most exciting experience for the militants. The first picketing was to protest against Castro's plans to put homosexuals in concentration camps. These protests\u2014one in Washington, D.C., at the White House and one the next day in New York at the UN\u2014went so well that the activists decided to mount a series of picket lines at strategic sites in Washington. The participants found the experience to be so liberating that they felt elated.\n\nCraig Rodwell considered the picketing at the White House to be \"the most wonderful day in my life.\" Saddened that the series of picket demonstrations was ending, he had a sudden brainstorm: the activists should picket once a year on July 4 in Philadelphia, where the United States had been born, to remind the American people that there was one minority group that still lacked basic rights. Rodwell's idea was accepted, and in 1965 activists traveled to Philadelphia to march in what came to be called the Annual Reminder.\n\nIt was during the time when Leitsch was just getting to know Julian Hodges that, out on a walk one day, they came across a politician who wanted to talk to them. The politician was campaigning to be district leader of the Village Independent Democrats (VID), then a new organization. He told Leitsch and Hodges about how Illinois had decriminalized sodomy and why New York should also do the same. The politician went on to say that adultery and divorce should be legalized as well. Although both men agreed with his position, Leitsch had walked away feeling that there was something very obnoxious about the politician, whom he had not taken very seriously. The politician lost the election, and his attempt to win elected office was derisively labeled \"the SAD Campaign\" because of Ed Koch's emphasis on legalizing sodomy, adultery, and divorce.\n\nDoric Wilson, feeling miserable as well as confused, entered the Cherry Lane Bar. His play _And He Made a Her_ , an Off Off Broadway hit, had just been moved to the Cherry Lane Theater as part of that theater's Monday evening playwrights series. Doric had considered this move to the well-respected Cherry Lane as proof of the professional theater world's stamp of approval. But the version of the play he had just seen did not at all resemble the one he had previously seen performed at the Caffe Cino. The new director had killed all the play's humor. Doric felt total despair, for he now saw his future endangered instead of assured. A drink in the Cherry Lane Bar, where gay men often gathered, would give him a chance to collect himself.\n\nA stranger came up to him and offered to buy him a drink.\n\n\"No, leave me alone. I'm in a rotten mood,\" was Doric's terse reply as he exited the bar.\n\nWilson walked to another bar. The same man who had approached him in the Cherry Lane had followed him and again walked up to Wilson. Doric said, \"No, get away from me!\" He left that bar and found a third one.\n\nBy the time he entered the third bar, he was beginning to calm down. The man from the Cherry Lane Bar showed up again. Feeling better, Doric yielded to the persistent fellow and accepted the drink, though it seemed only fair to warn him that he was not open to any further advances.\n\nDoric faced his would-be suitor: \"Look, I'm not interested in you. I've had one of the worst days of my life, but if you're going to follow me around, yes, you can buy me a drink, but I'm not going to be good company.\"\n\nThe man took out a badge and announced that Doric was under arrest.\n\nOne day in October of 1964 Leitsch picked up _The New York Times_ and read the headline about Greenwich Village. He learned that Ed Koch had made a 180-degree turn: he and Carol Greitzer, Democratic leaders of the First Assembly District, were demanding that something be done about \"the problem of... homosexuals who have been congregating on Village Square at Eighth Street and the Avenue of the Americas.\" Two days later _The Times_ reported that Koch was \"head[ing] a drive to rid the area\" of homosexuals \"and other undesirables.\" The article explained that after Koch had met with Police Commissioner Michael J. Murphy, Murphy had announced \"plans to increase surveillance of Greenwich Village to curtail loitering and solicitation by homosexuals.\" In the article Koch boasted \"that Commissioner Murphy had assured him that more 'effective' measures would be taken to curb activity of homosexuals.\"\n\nThe drive Koch and Greitzer launched led to the closing of a number of gay bars and the entrapment of hundreds of homosexuals, leaving many of them unable to get licenses or well-paying jobs for years into the following decade. In April of 1965, Koch asked Wagner for another \"cleanup\" of the Village and got it, during which more gay bars were closed and thousands of gay people were harassed on the Village's sidewalks. Three months later, Koch got yet another drive started, this one targeting Christopher Street.\n\nEntrapment was an issue much on Dick Leitsch's mind as he continued to volunteer at the Mattachine headquarters. At times in the midsixties the phone would ring in the Mattachine office all evening with calls for help from desperate men trying to save their families, their livelihoods, and their reputations. As Leitsch talked to one victim after another, he noticed certain patterns.\n\nLeitsch realized that the police explanation for arresting gay men\u2014that they were locking homosexuals up because they were prowling the city making unsolicited advances\u2014was patently false. The entrapped men had been arrested by police officers in plain clothes who had gone into gay bars and cruising areas dressing and acting as though they were interested in sex. When the gay men had responded in kind, the cops arrested them. Gay men also noticed that the policemen who did this kind of work tended to be very attractive men who dressed provocatively for the occasion. The policemen who went into public bathrooms were not supposed to display themselves, but Leitsch heard over and over from those arrested that the men they met in a toilet often not only were displaying their penises but also had erections and were masturbating to look as inviting as possible.\n\nOther patterns emerged as well as Leitsch continued to answer the calls for help. For example, it was not uncommon for the police to suggest the names of certain attorneys who might be able to defend the men arrested for solicitation and\/or loitering. When those charged consulted the attorneys, they were asked to pay exorbitant fees, far beyond the normal charge for such an infraction. Leitsch also noticed that after the charges had been dropped, the police officers, previously so serious and gruff, suddenly became quite amiable. Entrapped gay men commonly concluded that one reason for the high fees charged by the lawyers the police steered them to was to grease the wheels of \"justice.\"\n\nLeitsch had run for president-elect of Mattachine\u2013New York on a platform of ending entrapment. This issue was arguably the most pressing in the homosexual community, and it also seemed to Leitsch that it should be the easiest to address since it was so obviously unpleasant and went against everything that most Americans stood for. Once Leitsch had been elected, the question was how to go about ending entrapment.\n\nGay men in New York had learned that besides major events such as a world's fair, elections were also likely to trigger an increase in police entrapment. In May of 1965 John Vliet Lindsay, the six-foot-three lean, good-looking Republican congressman from New York's Silk Stocking District, announced that he would run against the incumbent mayor, Democrat Robert Wagner.\n\nAs the election campaign grew heated in the summer of 1965, Leitsch was in the Mattachine\u2013New York office one afternoon when a reporter from the _New York Post_ (then a paper with progressive politics) named Joseph Kahn came by to discuss a proposed change in the sodomy law that was under consideration in the state legislature. As Leitsch and Kahn tried to talk, they were constantly interrupted by the phone ringing with calls from entrapped men. When Leitsch explained to Kahn both how entrapment worked and how common it had become within the male homosexual community, Kahn reacted skeptically. Leitsch made the reporter an offer: would he like to talk to some entrapment victims?\n\nTommy Lanigan-Schmidt graduated high school in 1965 and went to New York City to apply to the Pratt Institute to study art. At the end of the application process he was told that they would let him enroll because he drew so well but that he wasn't going to graduate because he lacked self-discipline.\n\nWhen Tommy enrolled at Pratt he found the instructors uninspiring and the way they taught very limiting. Moreover, the art movement held up as a model in the classes Tommy took was Bauhaus, the antithesis of the medieval art he loved. With money a problem, he also did not see how he could complete a degree. Tommy made a conscious decision: to keep his dignity, he would stay in Pratt and learn the material taught, but he would make sure he failed.\n\nIn June of 1966 he received an official letter of dismissal. On that day, he returned home to Linden and showed the letter to his father, who was exasperated by the news.\n\nTommy's father determined to take matters into his own hands. Within hours, he took Tommy to downtown Linden and had him sign up on a ditch-digging crew. It was summer work that through the right connections might eventually lead to a union job for his son. Maybe it wasn't too late to make a man out of Tommy after all, his father thought.\n\nOn signing up to join the crew, Tommy saw that the other crew members were some of the tougher kids he had gone to high school with. Tommy knew it would have given them all a laugh to bury him alive. On leaving the office, he walked outside, took the dismissal letter out of his pocket, and looked at it. He already considered the letter his own personal declaration of independence. A moment of great clarity came to him, and he knew what he had to do.\n\nTommy went home. His father asked him, \"You want to go get the newspaper?\" Tommy said yes, and his dad handed him seven cents. He had sixty-five cents in his pocket. Seventy-two cents wouldn't get him to New York from Linden, but it would from Elizabeth. Tommy walked to the train station in Elizabeth, bought a ticket, and climbed aboard. Arriving at Penn Station, he headed down to the Village. He'd make it as an artist on his own somehow.\n\nChange seemed to be everywhere in the air in the fall of 1965 as John Lindsay was elected mayor. An aura of excitement pervaded the city as the new mayor prepared to take office, his youthful good looks inspiring comparisons with John Kennedy, whose election had likewise inaugurated a season of hope. New York's homosexuals also felt cautiously hopeful about the new mayor. They had fared worse under the Wagner administration than under any other in the city's history. Maybe conditions would improve for them with Lindsay.\n\nAlthough Dick Leitsch was also curious about how the new mayor would treat the gay community, a major change had already taken place in his life. As he remembered, one day Julian Hodges had come to him and said that they had to talk. Hodges confessed to Leitsch that he had been misappropriating Mattachine\u2013New York funds. Leitsch replied that Hodges must inform the organization's treasurer of this wrongdoing. Mattachine\u2013New York's treasurer, the head of a major Wall Street accounting firm, agreed to make up the shortfall but told Hodges that he would have to leave town. Mattachine\u2013New York accepted Hodges's resignation, which made Dick Leitsch the organization's president just in time for the Lindsay administration.\n\nOn a March night in 1966 the top brass of the new Lindsay administration were having a tough time keeping order during a raucous meeting at Judson Memorial Church in the Village. Police Commissioner Howard Leary, Chief Inspector Sanford Garelick, and Lindsay's human rights commissioner, William Booth, had all come there to pour oil on troubled waters after a cleanup campaign aimed at drug use, noise, congestion, and homosexuals in the Village had made some very public pratfalls. Two weeks prior, Garelick, New York's highest-ranking uniformed officer, had personally supervised an attempt to seal off an entire section of the Village around MacDougal Street, where young people drawn to the city went looking for a good time. The chief of police had ordered fourteen blocks around MacDougal Street closed to traffic on a Friday night, a peak time for the rowdy youths who came to enjoy the nightlife. Soon 1,500 youths were sitting in the middle of the empty streets, clapping and chanting, \"Up with the Village and down with the police.\" A half hour later cars were allowed inside the area. The press had a field day mocking the police, and residents were up in arms.\n\nCrowded into the church, Villagers had their boisterously independent spirit on full display as various political factions vied to control the agenda and the evening's tone.\n\nGarelick was getting discouraged by the chaos when suddenly a nasal voice sounded from the room's rear. \"I'm from a minority group in the community that is rarely heard from. Why aren't private nonracketeer businessmen allowed the legal right to run restaurants for homosexuals just as they run restaurants for heterosexuals?\" asked Randy Wicker.\n\nSanford Garelick, speaking in his best professional tone, replied, \"We have to enforce the law on licensed premises. You say repression; I say enforcement...\"\n\nWicker was having none of it. \"Are sexual deviates supposed not to eat? And what about those plainclothesmen, whose psychology even the homosexual doesn't understand, who come into places dressed in tight pants to lure people into illicit acts?\"\n\n\"Entrapment,\" intoned Garelick, \"is a violation of our rules and a violation of our procedure.\"\n\nWhen Wicker pointed out that many solicitations in gay bars were made by plainclothes policemen, Garelick denied it. This prompted Aryeh Neier, the NYCLU's executive director, to walk up to the podium and say that Garelick showed \"a certain naivet\u00e9\" in denying that entrapment occurs, before adding, \"It's alarming to think that the Chief Inspector doesn't know that a large number of police spend their duty hours dressed in tight pants, sneakers, and polo sweaters' to bring about solicitations.\" The audience erupted into a loud ovation and shouts of \"Bravo!\"\n\nPressed on how frequently police officers tried to entrap homosexuals, Garelick demurred but stated, \"I'm very severe in my condemnation of entrapment.\" Looking obviously uncomfortable, he added that he hoped that if incidents of entrapment did occur, the public would report them to the police \"as they would crimes.\"\n\nDick Leitsch had to allow himself a smile. His plan of placing Mattachine members in the audience to ask the right questions had worked beautifully, as had the entire campaign he and other Mattachine\u2013New York members had relentlessly pursued since Lindsay had taken office. The timing of the Kahn series on the vice police in the _New York Post_ had been perfect. The Wagner administration had ignored the articles and all the questions they raised, but Kahn had confronted Police Commissioner Walsh on the entrapment of homosexuals in particular and Walsh had said that entrapment was not police department policy. The _Post_ had then run an editorial calling for an end to entrapment. Leitsch and other Mattachine members had called the _Post_ to urge them not to let the issue fade, and the newspaper had promised to keep the heat on. They did, exposing both the seamy nature of such police operations as well as how wasteful they were of city resources and police manpower.\n\nWhen Garelick left Judson Memorial Church that evening, he no doubt felt relieved that the meeting was over. Unfortunately for him, his troubles about homosexual entrapment were not. When Dick Leitsch arrived home late that evening, his phone rang. He picked it up and heard the voice of John Lassoe, an Episcopal priest and Mattachine\u2013New York supporter. The information Lassoe had was perfect: a vice plainclothesman had just entrapped a heterosexual priest at Julius', only a few blocks away from where Garelick had been speaking. Leitsch hung up the phone and started calling reporters to make sure they had the story in time for the next day's papers.\n\n_The New York Times_ put the story of Garelick's request that the public report instances of entrapment to the police next to a story about the entrapment occurring simultaneously in the same neighborhood. Shortly afterward the _New York Post_ ran a story detailing a typical instance of bathhouse entrapment: a policeman, standing by his locker, dressed in his underwear, clutched his groin as he moaned. When a forty-year-old Brooklyn tailor asked him if he was ill or needed help, the tailor was arrested. Columnist Pete Hamill spoke with the man's devastated wife, who asked as she sobbed what would happen to her husband. In spite of her crying, she managed to speak softly so that her children would not hear the conversation.\n\nAfter he had read the press reports about the entrapment at Julius' coinciding with Garelick's denunciation of entrapment, Leitsch rolled a sheet of paper into the typewriter and started a letter to Sanford Garelick. He had, after all, asked to be informed of any instances of entrapment.\n\nLeitsch's cleverness, while understandable, had not been needed. By now the new administration had clearly gotten the message, which was confirmed when Lindsay invited Leitsch to a meeting. The meeting brought together various factions: officials of the Lindsay administration, Village politicians, and representatives of Village groups that had been harassed by the recent police drives. The meeting took place at the Village Vanguard and got off to a humorous start when Allen Ginsberg voiced concern about poets and avant-garde theater people caught in the cross fire of the Mafia, the police, and the city's cabaret laws. Ginsberg told Lindsay there had to be someone in the License Department who could handle culture.\n\n\"He's right behind you,\" Lindsay answered, indicating the deputy commissioner from the License Department.\n\n\"But is he culturally hip?\" Ginsberg pressed.\n\n\"I can assure you,\" Lindsay deadpanned, \"he is not.\"\n\nWhen the subject of entrapment arose, the mayor said that \"he had told the police department that the practice would stop immediately and would not be resumed\" so long as he was mayor. Ed Koch grew red-faced, jumped up, and started yelling in protest. Leitsch smiled broadly as he sat next to the apoplectic Koch. He and Mattachine\u2013New York had won the war on entrapment.\n\n## S L A P O L I C Y\n\nEven before the success of the campaign to end entrapment, Leitsch had already started an effort to end police harassment of gay bars, which he saw as the second-most pressing problem facing the local gay population.\n\nAccording to both Dick Leitsch and Randy Wicker, in the late 1950s there were a considerable number of gay bars that operated openly in New York City. Leitsch puts the number of gay bars at \"more than forty\" in 1959 and says that they were businesses that had been around for a long time and were controlled by \"private individuals.\" But a great wave of bar closings began in 1960, which Leitsch felt was the fallout of a large investigation into corruption within the State Liquor Authority (SLA). When the New York City Police began a systematic campaign in 1960 to close all gay bars, they all lost their licenses, with one exception, the bar of the Cherry Lane Theater (though even that bar finally lost its license during Koch's 1966 antigay crusade).\n\nThe result of the 1960 crackdown, according to Leitsch, was that \"the organized crime syndicate saw an opening and rushed in, opening bars all over town.\" Leitsch claims that \"during one period\" Mafia gay bars were able to remain open by paying off \"strategic people\" but that \"when that became more difficult after the scandals in the State Liquor Authority, the bars began to operate only until they were raided, at which time they would pick up the entire operation, bar, employees, clientele and all, and move to another place in the same neighborhood, with the licenses in another name.\"\n\nLeitsch later commented in a lecture that whenever a crackdown occurred, \"homosexuals knew the 'Mafia' would find some way to supply us with a place to meet and socialize. The sad philosophy of the gay world was that expressed by Brecht's Mother Courage: 'Our only hope lies in corruption.' \" Leitsch saw the problem as the SLA having \"surround[ed] the liquor business with so many rules and petty restrictions that honest men cannot survive,\" so that the business \"reverts to the hands of those crooked enough to have the knowledge and lack of scruples to ferret out and work with crooked liquor agents.\"\n\nWith so many powerful interests having so much at stake, how could Mattachine\u2013New York go about making gay bars legal? To try to determine how to approach the problem, Mattachine\u2013New York paid an attorney to do a detailed study of New York's Alcoholic Beverage Control (ABC) Law. The memorandum that was prepared found: \"Contrary to the contention of many bar operators, there is no provision in New York which flatly prohibits homosexuals from gathering in bars and there is no provision which flatly prohibits bars from serving homosexuals.\" However, the memorandum's author immediately added, Section 106(6) of the law, which prohibited a licensee's premises from becoming \"disorderly,\" had been interpreted as not allowing licensed premises to serve homosexuals or for homosexuals to gather in drinking places as \"a reflection of the attitude of the State Liquor Authority and... most of our courts.\" As Leitsch and his colleagues studied the memorandum, it seemed to them that before they could get very far in trying to make gay bars legal, what was initially needed was some clarity about the New York State Liquor Law. The liquor law's vagueness with regards to serving alcohol to homosexuals rendered the issue murky.\n\nDanny Garvin ordered a beer and settled against the bar to relax with his navy buddies. He felt a tap on his shoulder and was told to turn around and face the bar. \"Why?\" Danny asked. The bartender explained that this was the bar's rule to prevent being closed on charges of solicitation. Danny did not understand how he was supposed to cruise if he was facing the bar. Wasn't that the point of coming to this bar, to meet other men?\n\nDanny remembered the first time he had walked into Julius'. Some of his navy mess mates had brought him here, perhaps to show off their worldliness. They had said that though he was only seventeen he would not have any trouble getting a drink. The bar had seemed so ordinary that Danny had no inkling that it was a homosexual bar until a rather stereotypically feminine-looking older man, seeing Danny and his buddies' haircuts, had spoken to them: \"I bet you three are servicemen. I can tell fortunes. Let me see your palms.\" Taking one of each of their palms, he had pretended to study them before announcing, \"Well, I'm going to tell you, one of you is homosexual, but I'm not going to tell you which one. I'm going to give all three of you my phone number, and the one that is will know to call me!\"\n\nThat was how it always seemed to work out for Danny: the only men approaching him were older men whose sole interest in him was sexual. That was just fine, he told himself. He was mainly interested in getting his rocks off, and men seemed more sexually available than women.\n\nOne reason the all-male crowd at Julius' hadn't struck Danny as unusual was that it seemed like any of the neighborhood bars where men went to socialize in Inwood, the middle-class immigrant neighborhood he had grown up in. An all-male gathering in a corner bar was common enough in Inwood, perhaps in part because of the strong Irish presence there. So much of Danny's identity seemed wrapped up with his Irish heritage. His grandfather James, freshly arrived in America, had helped to assemble the Statue of Liberty, and Danny's father, Michael, had smuggled messages for the IRA in Ireland until he was caught. It was only because Michael had been born in America that the British had released him, but only on the condition that he return to the States.\n\nAnother part of Danny's Irish heritage was the guilt that seemed to come with growing up in a devout Catholic family. When he reached puberty his older sister had told him that if he ever started to have an erection or experienced a wet dream, he should get out of bed, fall to his knees, and pray to the blessed virgin Mary. No, he wasn't really gay: he was just getting his rocks off. At least he hoped so, because judging from all he knew of it\u2014the older men who had come on to him in public toilets or theaters\u2014it seemed a very seamy life. It was such a confusing scene, too, with all the lingo he didn't understand, like men calling each other she and Mary Duggan. And there were strange terms like _flame queen_ and _scare drag_. Sometimes he couldn't even follow it.\n\n_\"The closet door was so tight back then.\"_ That's how he would try to explain it years later.\n\nThe stratagem Leitsch and his colleagues devised to seek clarity on the state's liquor laws revealed the extent to which they modeled their activism on the black civil rights movement. In a move that was both creative and ingeniously simple, they determined that several members of the Society would enter a bar, announce themselves as homosexuals, and ask to be served. If they were refused service, as they expected to be, they would make a complaint against both the bar and the SLA for violating their constitutional rights to free assembly and equal accommodation. To make sure that they made their point, they invited the press along.\n\nThey sent telegrams to the press announcing that three Mattachine members would show up at noon on April 21, 1966, at the Ukrainian-American Village Restaurant on the Lower East Side to ask for drinks. That restaurant had been targeted because it displayed a sign saying: \"If You Are Gay, Please Go Away.\"\n\nWhile the conception of the challenge to the SLA may have been ingenious, it seems to have been ill-fated from the start. By this time Craig Rodwell had quit the Mattachine Society because Mattachine\u2013New York's board would not agree to some of Rodwell's proposals to do more public outreach. However, Leitsch had planned to mount his challenge with John Timmons, and Timmons had insisted on inviting Craig along, to which Leitsch reluctantly agreed. Craig, in turn, told Randy Wicker about the event and Wicker, ever eager for publicity, showed up uninvited. Wicker's presence annoyed Leitsch, for although it was Mattachine\u2013New York that had coordinated the gay challenge at the Judson Church and Wicker was the organization's secretary, he had identified himself that night as speaking for his own one-man operation, the Homosexual League.\n\nThe four men arrived at the Ukrainian-American Village Restaurant later than planned and found it closed. The press had informed the manager of the planned action and asked how he would respond. The manager had thwarted their plans by simply closing shop. The activists then walked over to a Howard Johnson's on Sixth Avenue and 8th Street, where Dick Leitsch read a statement identifying the group as homosexuals and asking for service. The manager, Emile Varela, doubled over in laughter and ordered a waiter to bring the men bourbons, saying that he knew of no regulation against serving homosexuals. Having failed twice, the men improvised a third target, the Waikiki, another Sixth Avenue spot popular with gay men. There the men were again served. After huddling yet again, the men walked two blocks west to Julius', where the bartender was also willing to serve them. Leitsch talked to the manager, who explained that as they were already facing a license suspension he did not want any more trouble. When Leitsch explained how valuable his refusing to serve them could be and promised that Mattachine\u2013New York would help get them legal assistance with their current case, the manager agreed to play along. Refusing to serve the men, he told the press that since the men had said they were homosexual, he would not serve them, saying, \"I think it's the law.\" Dick Leitsch then told the press that he would file a complaint in Mattachine\u2013New York's name with the SLA.\n\nMattachine\u2013New York got extensive media coverage for what _The New York Times_ dubbed a Sip-in, but the SLA refused to play their part in the game the organization had set up. The day of the Sip-in, the media asked the SLA's chief executive officer, Thomas Ring, about his agency's policies concerning homosexuality. After years of suspending and revoking licenses when homosexuals had been entrapped in bars, Ring said that the SLA \"do[es] not discriminate against homosexuals\" and claimed that their regulations \"leave service to the discretion of the management.\" Four days after the Sip-in, the SLA told the press that it \"would take no action against bartenders or liquor licensees who refuse to serve drinks to homosexuals.\" The SLA chairman, Donald Hostetter, asked about the Mattachine\u2013New York complaint, answered, \"We would take no action on such a complaint,\" but added, \"This might be a matter for the [New York City] Commission on Human Rights.\" The SLA had decided to pretend that it did not discriminate and had no oversight over such discrimination, while shuffling the problem off to another entity. Commissioner Booth was eager to cooperate and, based on the city's law that outlawed discrimination on the basis of sex, declared that \"[d]enial of service to a homosexual... would come within those bounds.\"\n\nSubsequent events and explanations would eventually clarify that the SLA's new line was that homosexuals could be in bars and be served liquor as long as they were not \"disorderly,\" by which the post-Sip-in SLA meant that homosexuals who behaved largely as heterosexuals were allowed to\u2014kissing, touching each other intimately, or dancing in an overtly sexual manner\u2014were a disorderly presence and hence could endanger a bar's license. In the meantime, Booth had been reluctantly forced to conclude that the New York City Commission on Human Rights was limited by law to investigating sex discrimination only in the field of employment and so was powerless to take action against a bar that refused to serve homosexuals.\n\nThe publicity gained by the Sip-in did have the effect, however, of inspiring a number of bars outside New York City, especially in New Jersey, to get in touch with Mattachine\u2013New York and request its assistance in fighting their own state liquor authorities. Over the coming years Mattachine\u2013New York would continue to whittle away at the tools the police and the region's state liquor authorities used to harass bars and restaurants that served a lesbian and\/or gay male clientele. Most significantly for New York City, the police department could no longer use entrapment against gay men as a tool to deprive a business of its liquor license.\n\nFor all that had been achieved by Mattachine\u2013New York under Dick Leitsch's leadership, there were a lot of strains and divisions among the leading East Coast homophile activists. Leitsch had been furious when Mattachine-Washington did not pay what he saw as their portion of the cost of producing both a 1965 regional conference and the _Eastern Mattachine Magazine_ , a joint publication venture of the two organizations. After a falling-out over this matter, Leitsch felt alienated from Kameny.\n\nRandy Wicker had made so much money selling his gay buttons that he was busy preparing to launch a shop that would specialize in political buttons, and he began to withdraw his energies from Mattachine\u2013New York.\n\nBy the spring of 1966 Craig Rodwell had become alienated from the Mattachine Society because of a disagreement over a project he had proposed. Rodwell had wanted Mattachine\u2013New York to open a storefront operation to make the organization more visible and accessible. His idea was that from such an office the organization could make available pamphlets and magazines published by the homophile movement as well as books on the subject of homosexuality. When the board rejected the idea, he quit Mattachine\u2013New York in protest and began to spend his summers working on Fire Island cleaning rooms at a hotel popular with gay men. He planned to save his money and open his own bookstore.\n\nAfter two seasons of working at Fire Island, Rodwell had enough money to open a bookstore that would stock only gay and lesbian reading material. Rodwell named the store the Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop. He intended the store to function as a center for the gay and lesbian community at a time when there was no such community center in New York. After quitting Mattachine\u2013New York, Rodwell took a leaf from Randy Wicker and started his own organization, which he named HYMN, for Homophile Youth Movement in Neighborhoods. While the organization never had more than a few members, it gave Craig a public platform. Rodwell emphasized the idea of identity and activism by setting up the organization so that \"memberships are not sold... you 'join' by being gay\u2014because this is a _movement_ ,\" as he explained to a reporter. A few months after opening his bookstore, Craig started publishing a newsletter that he named the _Hymnal_ , which he intended to use to inspire gay men and lesbians to become politically active. As Barbara Gittings had done with _The Ladder_ , Rodwell highlighted news of militant actions and major successes, especially from Europe, where the gay legal and social situation was much better than in America. The _Hymnal_ 's first issue informed readers that Britain's House of Commons had given initial approval to a law that would legalize homosexual sex.\n\n\"Why don't you just tell them you're queer?\"\n\nDanny Garvin, only 17 in early 1967, just shook his head once from left to right. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. First Chuck says that Danny has to leave because he's AWOL and under eighteen and Chuck could get arrested, and now Chuck's telling him to tell the navy he's homosexual!\n\nIt seemed that everything that could go wrong in several hours had. After getting drunk the previous night he'd overslept and not reported back to base on time. Then he discovered that he'd left his military ID in the liquor store where he'd picked up the booze for the impromptu party last night. When he had called his sister, she'd said the FBI and the CIA were looking for him. That was when he had really panicked. Now he'd run to Chuck, the one gay person his own age he'd gotten to know, and he's telling him to get lost. Danny left Chuck's, went to a drugstore, and bought some razor blades.\n\nThe Mattachine Society of New York had had a partial success in legalizing gay bars through the so-called Sip-in, beginning a legal challenge to the practice of denying licenses to the bars that served homosexuals. The incomplete victory created ambiguous results. While the SLA had retreated into a strategy of obfuscation instead of joining the battle, the success of Mattachine\u2013New York in ending entrapment and changing the SLA policy so that businesses with liquor licenses could serve homosexuals resulted in legitimate businessmen beginning to invest in non-Mafia clubs. In March of 1967 Mattachine won a very significant ruling from New York's highest court: the SLA could not revoke a license on the basis of homosexual solicitation. The SLA's ability to prevent bars from serving gay men and lesbians was being eroded.\n\nThe Mafia apparently could read the writing on the wall just as well as the SLA. Running gay bars would become increasingly like running any other bar, and so the profits would go from exorbitant to ordinary. The Mafia was not interested in ordinary profits.\n\nA year after these Mattachine successes, _The New York Times_ , always eager to be the first to spot a new trend, reported on its front page that because of the declining profits in the gay bar business due to the encroaching legalization, the Mafia had a new strategy: operating gay bars as private clubs. Since they were private, the paper explained, these clubs enjoyed \"the same legal sanctuary as an individual's home against police inspection without a court warrant.\" _The Times_ reported that some of these new clubs charged high annual dues, extra fees for admission to special rooms, and high prices for setups or illegal liquor.\n\nThis strategy created new challenges for the police. Courts were refusing to issue search warrants \"without specific complaints and evidence,\" and patrons of these businesses were generally unwilling to give the police the kinds of detailed information needed for warrants. When plainclothes police tried to enter the clubs to gather evidence, they had \"been ejected bodily when they failed to pass a recognition test.\" These new kinds of operations, _The Times_ reported, \"have tight security and member identification.\"\n\nDanny Garvin looked at the piece of paper the U.S. Navy wanted him to sign. It seemed a reasonable exchange: he wanted an honorable discharge; the navy didn't want to pay any benefits. By this time he'd had enough of both the navy and psychiatric wards. After he had cut himself with two razor blades and only succeeded in scratching his wrist up, he knew that he couldn't bring himself to commit suicide. He had then gone to Bellevue on the advice of a psychiatrist and asked to be admitted. The navy had come and picked him up from Bellevue and transferred him to St. Alban's Naval Hospital.\n\nThere had been plenty of strange moments during the three months he had spent at St. Alban's. Volunteering as a movie projectionist, he had shown the film _Gigi_ seven or eight times a week to soldiers just back from Vietnam who were missing legs or whose faces had been burned away. Only a few weeks ago when he'd obliged a nurse by helping to take a body to the morgue, workers there had grabbed his hand and slapped it on the ice-cold chest of a corpse that had been stored there for God knows how long. But by far the most absurd aspect of Danny's hospitalization was his inability to discuss what troubled him the most, his homosexuality, because he wanted the honorable discharge.\n\nDanny picked up a pen and signed the general release. Hours later he walked out of St. Alban's Naval Hospital, where he had turned eighteen. He was the same age his father had been when the British had given him his freedom, also in exchange for getting something they had wanted.\n\nIt seemed appropriate therefore that it was also St. Patrick's Day. Danny had touched death, but he was alive.\n\nHe would go to Julius' that night to celebrate.\n\n#\n\n# On the Street\n\nWhile gay men and women in the 1960s were pressured into keeping their sexual lives very closeted, they succeeded in creating a diverse subculture. Then as now, the lesbian and gay male community had its own divisions and subcultures based on everything from sex, to sexual proclivities, to class and race. While it is not within the scope of this history to survey all or even most of these groups then existing in New York City, one group that demands our attention was a band of very young gay men whose social life existed mainly on the street. Although these youths stood in contrast with the activists because of their lack of respectability, the two groups shared two common traits beyond their sexual orientation: the social life of both was centered on the Village, and the members of these two groups were among the very few homosexuals of the era who chose to be visible.\n\nWhen Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt arrived in New York City, he had no plan about how he was going to survive, let alone realize his dreams of becoming an artist. He did not know anyone who could help him get a job, and he initially looked to other homeless gay youths to help him survive. With no money and no job, Tommy turned to panhandling.\n\nOne cold night a man walked up to him and asked, \"Are you all right, Mary?\"\n\nTommy, confused, protested, \"I'm not Mary!\"\n\n\"Mary, Grace, Allison\u2014what difference does it make? After all, we're all sisters. Aren't we?\"\n\n\"But I'm a man!?\"\n\n\"Listen, Jesus would not want someone freezing in the street. If you need a place to stay, I have one.\"\n\nThe street queen who had so kindly offered Tommy lodging was alternately known as Opera Jean, because of his love of opera, and Sister Tooey, as he was infamous for going through people's medicine cabinets searching for the downer Tuinal.\n\nTommy soon found a very inexpensive apartment, thirty-five dollars a month, on the Lower East Side. It was in a terrible building, with around six of its apartments burned out. He had almost no money at all after paying for his rent and food, and so he lived very close to the street and found his friends there among the drag queens, street queens, and runaways.\n\nThere was Stanley, a queen who was always in drag and prone to bizarre pronouncements. When Stanley told Tommy that he had gone to a famous school, Tommy innocently asked him which one. Stanley answered exasperatedly, \"You're crazy! 'A Famous School' was carved above the door! We operated on lions and alligators in biology class, not frogs!\" Congo Woman, a \"very nasty\" black queen, used to throw bricks through store windows to get whatever she wanted, usually some drag item such as a dress or a wig. She also carried a stone in her purse just to have handy to throw at people. Irish Sylvia used drugs fairly regularly, and so when he fell to his death from the roof of the St. George Hotel many assumed that he had fallen because he was high, but there were rumors that he had been pushed. Tommy recalls that \"that was the first queen funeral that I went to.\" Bambi, who got his name because of his large eyes, was never seen without a bottle and a bag. He had a habit of standing in the middle of the street to stop traffic and then banging on drivers' car windows as he demanded change. Tommy emphasizes Bambi's unpredictability by saying that he was \"a creature of the moment.\" Nelly, a Latino youth also known as Betsy Mae Kulo (as in Spanish for \"kiss my ass\"), was so young-looking that when he went hustling in drag no one would have thought him a man. Orphan Annie was so called because his white skin, red Afro, and unique eyes immediately called to mind the hollow-eyed comic strip character. He claimed to have an extremely wealthy grandmother who sent him money. Another youth who wore a Beatles haircut and had good teeth almost never said anything but always wore a suit or a coat and usually a tie. Sometimes the shirt would get very dirty, but Tommy never saw this young man without a coat and figured this was his way of trying to hold on to some dignity.\n\nWhereas the youth with the Beatles haircut looked quite conventionally male, a few of the youths were extremely feminine. Tommy recalls, for example, one boy who, although he always wore men's clothes, had such feminine mannerisms that the overall effect\u2014his body language in combination with his fine features, long hair, and plucked eyebrows\u2014was decidedly feminine.\n\nAlmost all the boys, some as young as fourteen, were runaways. A few actually lived with their families and went home at night but made the streets their second home. Most of them had come from abusive families. They were predominantly white, with a few black and Latino youths.\n\nWE WERE STREET RATS. PUERTO RICAN, BLACK, NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN WHITES. \"DEBBY THE DYKE\" AND A CHINESE QUEEN NAMED \"JADE EAST.\" THE SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF POSTAL WORKERS, WELFARE MOTHERS, CAB DRIVERS, MECHANICS AND NURSES AIDES (JUST TO NAME A FEW). UNTIL PROPERLY INTRODUCED IT WAS DE RIGUEUR ARGOT TO CALL EVERYBODY \"MISS THING,\" (AFTER THIS, IT WAS DISCRETIONARY USAGE).*\n\nBob Kohler is a native New Yorker who has lived in the Village almost all his adult life. After being seriously wounded while serving in the navy in World War II, Kohler worked as a talent agent. At forty, Bob had decided to take some time off from work to consider where his life was going. Kohler lived in the Village on Charles Street and had a schnauzer named Magoo that had to be walked several times daily. It so happened that Magoo's route went by Christopher Park. During his furlough, Bob went by the park so often he noticed the gay street youth who often hung out there and began to talk to them.\n\n\"They loved my dog. That was the big thing. They would ask to walk the dog, and they became even younger with the dog. That became like a link, being able to walk the dog. I was old enough in those days to be their father. I think in the beginning they were very surprised that I wasn't looking for anything at all, which is one of the reasons they trusted me. I think that was basically the bond from them to me, the dog and the old person.\"\n\nBit by bit Kohler became extremely interested in the youths and their stories. Sometimes he would circle the park with Magoo and one or two of the youths. As they walked, one of the youths would betray his tender age by swinging around a parking meter that had been hit by a vehicle so that, loose in the sidewalk, it leaned at an angle. The more Bob listened to the young men talk, the more he sensed the pain they felt over having lost their connections with their fathers: \"I always felt that what the kids saw in me was a father. At least for most of them that was their biggest problem.\"\n\nBob often gave them small amounts of money to buy food at Smilers Deli, a neighborhood convenience store. \"You'd give them a quarter for potato salad and another quarter for macaroni salad, and you had to give them another quarter for Ex-Lax because they were so constipated from all the starches. But that's what they lived on, back and forth to Smilers. You could almost see the dent in the road.\"\n\nThe stories of the street youth's behavior are often shocking. As Bob Kohler explained, \"They were rotten kids. Of course they had been made rotten.\" One young man Tommy met on the street had an enormous burn scar covering his face and most of the rest of his body. His mother had decided that she didn't want men to be \"tempted\" anymore by her son's good looks and had held his face in the flames herself. He was not the only one among the street youth who had been burned. Bob Kohler recalled one boy among the street youth who bore the impression of a clothes iron on one of his buttocks, also made by one of his parents. In other cases parents or other relatives had thrown boiling water on them.\n\nWE SAT ON THE CURB-GUTTER AROUND THE CORNER FROM A DANCE-BAR CALLED THE STONEWALL. HE HAD WOUNDS SUTURED UP AND DOWN HIS ARMS. THE ARMY HAD REJECTED HIM FOR BEING \"A QUEER.\" HIS FATHER HAD THROWN HIM OUT OF THE HOUSE THROUGH A GLASS DOOR.\n\nOnce a youth urgently said to Bob, \"If I could only have my breakdown, if I could only have my breakdown, then I know they would help me.\" Bob asked him what he was talking about. The boy explained, \"They would always help my mother when my mother had her breakdowns. They would take her away and then she would come back and she'd be fine.\"\n\nKohler recalls, \"Death was a very, very common thing. You didn't miss a beat when somebody said... 'She died,' or 'She got shot.'... There were always bodies being fished out from the river.... I know of two that I knew. I remember one queen waking up on a very high rooftop in the blazing sun, stoned out of her mind from the night before and had slept through the whole day, burned to a crisp, and just wandered around the roof, just fell off. One called the wrong person a nigger and was murdered.\"\n\nExposure to the elements worsened their chances of survival. \"They slept in doorways in the rain. They slept on the benches when it was nice. So it was a very harsh life that they lived, and in the winter especially.\" Tommy says simply that \"most of the people I knew from back then were already dead within four years after I met them.\"\n\nAccording to Kohler, the kids operated on a constant cycle from searching for drugs, to getting high, to crashing, back to seeking more. Many of them would take anything they could lay their hands on. Still, they had their preferences even as they bartered, stole, and begged for drugs. \"The down of the day was Darvon. Then Black Beauties, Christmas Trees. The downs were to take away the pain that was always there. The ups were to keep them going, so that they could go out on tears all night. They never slept. It was just collapse, hoping they made it to a bench before they couldn't go another step.\"\n\nThey would shoplift from the local A & P grocery, or sometimes they would steal from Smilers. Several would enter together and two would pretend to fight to distract the staff so that a third could steal food. Another way of stealing a meal was known as \"eat and tip,\" as in \"tip out the door.\" This ploy was mainly used at the local Howard Johnson's when the youth wanted what for them was a really good meal. Located on Sixth Avenue at 8th Street, the Howard Johnson's was cavernous and had a very long counter with a zigzag shape. The youths would situate themselves far from the exit the waitresses used to get from behind the counter and after eating, at a signal, would all get up at the same time and run out.\n\nAs much as Bob cared for the youths, he did not idealize them. Even when they walked Magoo, he did not completely let down his guard: \"I used to watch, because I thought they're going to either eat him or sell him if somebody offered them five bucks.\n\n\"I became many things. I became a father confessor. A stasher of stolen goods. I became a patsy at times, too, because these kids lived to get over, and I was no exception. Just because I was as much of a friend as they could have, I still was somebody that they wanted to get over on. So I never turned my back. But they would tell me all their troubles.\"\n\nBilly, a blond youth also known as Miss Billy, was one of the boys Bob was closest to: \"He was a cute, cute kid. A real tall kid and very young. He was gay, gay, gay, but he was not a drag queen. I sort of became a protector of Billy. I tried to help him more than the others. Billy leaned on me more. I bailed him out of jail a couple of times.\" Billy was one of the youths who lived at home but spent as much time as he could on the streets.\n\nJust because some of the youths had homes did not necessarily mean that they had easy lives. Robert Rivera, more usually known as Birdie, for example, came from a Puerto Rican family in the Bronx. Although his Jewish father had a male lover, Birdie recalls that \"my parents didn't want me anywhere near the house.\" He became the lover at age eleven of Joe, a police officer who became his legal guardian, but Joe, who insisted that Rivera wear dresses, also beat him.\n\nAccording to Birdie, by 1965, while he was still in high school, he and other gay youth had formed their own gang, the Commando Queens. Members had to be over eleven and under eighteen. Their code of ethics was: \"You had to be kind to someone every day; you had to make sure your makeup was okay; couldn't be dirty; had to protect somebody who was getting beat up, someone who was queer; couldn't wear bras or girdles, no leather.\"\n\nBirdie became a very tough street youth whose philosophy was to hit before being hit. He and other street youth friends of his staked a claim to Riker's, a restaurant at the intersection of Christopher Street and Seventh Avenue South, and were intimidating enough that they \"took it over from the winos.\" They ran wild in the subways and didn't necessarily spare other gay people, such as the old men and cabdrivers they hustled: \"We used to terrorize those queens\u2014would tease them about who they had sex with and for what. We called them 'dog food.' \" Birdie's closest friends were Martin Boyce and Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt, both of whom recall Birdie's fearlessness.\n\nWhen the street youth were able to get a little money they would sometimes find transient lodging in cheap hotels like the Albert, the very popular Broadway Central (until it collapsed), the Earl, the Marlton on 8th Street, the Haliburt on University Place, and the Keller.\n\nWhen they were able to get into a hotel, they almost always ended up getting thrown out. Bob Kohler went to the Essex to visit Orphan Annie. After he and some of Annie's friends had been sitting and having a normal conversation for some minutes, Annie suddenly leaped up, picked up the radio, threw it out the window, and sat back down. No one acted as if anything unusual had happened, so Bob also kept quiet. Minutes later, Annie, for no apparent reason, picked up a lamp and threw it out the window.\n\nCross-eyed Sylvia instructed Tommy in how to make what the street queens called a drape dress, a resourceful technique for a queen who had no female attire and needed to find some in a hurry: \"Check in a place like the Hotel Albert and be sure to have a shopping bag with you. Since the curtains have hems on their tops and bottoms and a lining on the back, you simply cut the seam off the top and the bottom, slip in between the cloth and the lining, put on a belt, and attach a broach. After you've put your male attire in the shopping bag, you're ready to leave the hotel in your new dress.\" The Broadway Central's large windows made it particularly popular with New York's street queens.\n\nTommy explains, however, that usually the street youth were thrown out of hotels not because of vandalism but either from generosity or their own survival needs: they either tended to let their homeless comrades stay the night or brought johns to their rooms.\n\nThe cabaret laws, laws against homosexuality, and the SLA laws complicated life at the few businesses that might have had some special appeal to these youths as gay young adults. For example, the Tenth of Always was an ice-cream parlor run by the Mafia and targeted at gay teenagers. The prohibition on selling alcohol to persons under eighteen years of age was compensated for by selling hamburgers and sodas at hugely inflated prices. The Tenth allowed dancing, an activity that attracted teenagers, notwithstanding the small size of its dance floor. But Tommy recalls how the staff would yell at customers if they even sat close to each other. Since the Tenth did not have the required license to allow dancing, when the police made one of their frequent stops by the place the Mafia staff would turn on a chandelier as a signal for everyone to stop dancing.\n\nWhy had these youths been so totally abandoned? Apparently the reason is that most of them were much more feminine in behavior than the average homosexual man of the time. They were a band of youths from New York City and around the country who were generally not wanted by their families or schools or hometowns because they were so obviously queer. Hearing that the Village was the best place for them, they found their way there. At least in the Village they could find others like themselves\u2014or so they thought\u2014but other gay men shunned them. With the exception of Marsha Johnson, drag queens also shunned them. People in the apartment buildings around Christopher Park threw things at them from their windows. They were a world unto themselves, cut off by their age and by being so out of control. The interest Bob Kohler took in these youths and the kindness he showed them were unique.\n\nUnfortunately, the youths directed the rage they felt at being so completely abandoned against one another. Kohler recalls, \"They were constantly at odds. In a given week every one of them would stop speaking to every other one of them, and then they'd be back as sisters again. Most of them carried either a pair of scissors or a nail file, the preferred weapons because if they got arrested they would claim either that they were going to beauty school or that they were cutting people's hair and doing nail filing, assertions that the police could not disprove.\n\n\"It was nothing to be sitting there and it would be fine, and all of a sudden you'd hear a bottle break and that was always the weapon, the broken bottle, and they'd go for the face. If it was a drag queen, they'd go for the tits to deflate them. They would fight over pills. They would fight over whose bench that was. They would stake out benches.\n\n\"The fight would be about nothing. It would be over in a finger snap. Getting hurt was not important. Getting dead was not important. They'd rip their toes open wearing stupid open-toe sandals, and their feet sometimes would be so swollen up. There was no value placed on these kids by the gay community, by the medical community, by anybody, but mostly by themselves.\"\n\nThe boys' sense of humor helped dissipate some of the anger. Tommy recalls \"When gay people talk to each other there can be this really competitive performance. Street queens have that in machine-gun motion. It's so rapid-fire in their competition because they like to get each other to laugh and they like to get each other laughing at how clever and smart and interesting they are. So usually they would rather get each other laughing than hitting or knifing each other. There was a respect for someone that could really turn a phrase in a crazy way.\"\n\nSometimes, too, camp humor could be used to express group solidarity while trying to shock heterosexuals. In a spirit of youthful fun, at times when the street youth would be cruising on Greenwich Avenue, they would spontaneously throw their arms around each other and sing to the tune of \"It's Howdy Doody Time\" their own gay-affirming lyrics:\n\n_We are the Village Girls!_\n\n_We wear our hair in curls_.\n\n_We wear no underwear:_\n\n_We show our pubic hairs!_\n\nHumor was also the one weapon the street youth could use against the police.\n\nTHE COPS (SINGULAR AND PLURAL) WERE GENERICALLY KNOWN AS \"LILY LAW,\" \"BETTY BADGE,\" \"PATTY PIG\" OR \"THE DEVIL WITH THE BLUE DRESS ON.\"\n\nTommy recalls, \"The bubble-gum machine meant the cop car, because back then they only had one light in the middle. So someone might say, 'Lilly and the bubble-gum machine' or just 'Here comes Lil.' Because it was the sixties, sometimes she was called Patty Pig, which was more easy for the cops to interpret, so it wasn't said that much. Lilly Law they mostly didn't know. Especially when we said 'Lil': 'Lil, there she is.' Some queens called her Alice Bluegown. And she rode in the bubble-gum machine, so if someone said there were a lot of bubble-gum machines out, we knew there were a lot of cops there.\"\n\nProstitution (or hustling, as it is called in the gay world) was not only a way to get cash by trading sex but also gave the youths an opportunity to steal from johns. The youths would ask Bob, \"Can you hold this?\" and his apartment came to be filled with stolen items. When they would go down to the piers, they would also ask him to hold their money\u2014if they had any\u2014because they themselves were often robbed while hustling.\n\nAccording to Kohler, \"Very, very few, if any, were drag queens. They lived by panhandling, stealing, and hustling down at the piers at night. This is the only time that they ever went in drag, and it was pathetic drag. I mean, they had no money. They sometimes were able to steal wigs from 14th Street.\" Being very young, with their features not fully formed, many of them succeeded in impersonating women by using their own natural looks with just a little makeup and a few additions to their own clothing. With long hair being the style for young men in the mid-1960s, many of them could even dispense with wigs or falls. In the summer they usually wore shorts and at other times flowing bell-bottom pants, which was the fashion for young men at the time Bob met the street youths: \"The street kids had bag-woman drag. They wore sandals and tied their blouses or shirts in a big knot midriff, and that was basically it. The drag queens that were down at the piers couldn't have fooled a blind man. It was just ragged, hausfrau drag, whatever they could get together.\" Some simple jewelry like earrings might be added and the bell-bottoms would sometimes be in a lightweight, sheer material, so they looked like a long gown.\n\nAn example of a young man who hustled at the waterfront, though not in drag, was Jackie Hormona. He enhanced his natural good looks by dying his hair blond, putting on a little facial powder to make his skin appear smoother, and applying a touch of eyeliner. Although his overall appearance was masculine, like most of the street boys he was a bit more feminine in comportment than most gay men of the time. While Kohler explains that Jackie was known as Hormona because he wanted to take hormones, Jerry Hoose thinks otherwise, attributing the name to camp humor: \"Even his name, Hormona, was sort of like a put-on, really. Because he really wasn't that outrageous, like a drag type. The 'Hormona' was an exaggeration, sort of a goof. A lot of us back then took on exaggerated kinds of names and things just to be outrageous. But I don't think he had any plans on changing his sex or anything.\" While Hoose recalls the subtle use of makeup, he never saw Jackie wear a dress or use lipstick.\n\nOne of the more enigmatic of the street youth, Jackie seems to have maintained a certain emotional distance between himself and others. Tommy knew him so little at the time that he didn't even know his street name: \"She was always walking by and waving and then kept walking.\" Jerry Hoose agrees, saying that although he always got along with Jackie, \"Not really many people were very intimate with Hormona. She was sort of a loner, more than the rest of them.\" Hoose remembers havng the impression that Jackie was from the South, for there seemed to be a slight southern twang in his speech. Hoose also recalls that Jackie \"always gave the impression like he was from money. Whether that was true or not, who knows? But that's the impression he gave a lot of us, that he's living on the streets and doing all this shit because he wanted to, but not because he had to.\"\n\nHoose knew Jackie from cruising areas: \"Jackie was a regular on Greenwich Avenue\u2014and on Christopher Street, sitting on the stoops, getting drunk. I saw Jackie drunk many, many, many times. You know, bottles in a brown paper bag, stuff like that.\"\n\nHoose links the constant drinking to another of Jackie's characteristics: \"He would just do anything to make a splash. He really had no fear. He was extremely wild, one of those I-have-nothing-to-lose kind of characters.\"\n\nJust how wild Jackie could be Hoose remembers from the place he saw Hormona most often, the trucks: \"The trucks used to be raided like two or three times a night. Out of nowhere police cars would come from all directions, with the police smashing their nightsticks against the trucks. Everybody would fly out. They'd beat us\u2014try to grab people, smash people in the head with the nightsticks. People would run in all directions, but there'd be a small crowd of people here and there like me that screamed back, but I remember he would like go a little further than me\u2014throw things at the police. He was pretty fearless. Jackie wouldn't just sit around and take it.\"\n\nBeyond Jackie's nothing-to-lose attitude, an additional explanation for his resistance to police oppression may lie in an attribute that Tommy recalls in Jackie, that of simple fairness: \"Jackie had good moral leverage, being someone who wouldn't get into fights or wouldn't encourage stupid fights. He was the kind of person that if two people are fighting would say something like 'You know, it's not worth fighting about' or 'It's your friends, so why are you acting like this?' He was one of those people that had the nerve to tell people they should treat each other better. Most people were more expedient than fair. There was a very typical kind of opportunism among street queens, who were robbing each other a lot. So if someone could step in and get people to be a little more levelheaded, I always respected that. And it was unusual, because that person had to have a certain presence and confidence to not get murdered doing that. I would just be quiet and fade into the background because I didn't know who was going to go off, but Jackie would say, 'Don't do that to people.'\"\n\nAnother of the street youth who hustled and did so in drag at times was a black male known as Nova or, more fully, Zazu Nova, Queen of Sex. A good-looking man, Nova had a strikingly soft complexion of rich color, with a long nose and a distinctly African silhouette. A bit aloof, he carried himself almost as if he were royalty. Jerry Hoose thought he looked good as a man but made a rather masculine woman, for Nova was a very tall, muscular man with large hands. Tommy heard that Nova came from upstate New York. A staunch Unitarian, he took great pride in his religious upbringing. By all accounts, Nova had a fierce temper, even to the point of having a violent nature. The word on the street was that Nova not only had been in prison several times; there were also rumors that he had served time for murder.\n\nOne of Tommy's best friends from the era is Martin Boyce, who lived at home but socialized on the streets. Martin knew Nova was a force to reckon with, for he had seen her in action. Boyce was exiting Grand Central Station at three o'clock one morning when he ran into Nova on 42nd Street. As Martin greeted Nova, he grabbed her breast because it looked real and he wanted to see what it was made of. He didn't realize that five men had surrounded them. When one of them said, \"Look at that. He's touching that tit and doesn't get nothing out of it,\" Martin realized that he and Nova were about to be jumped. Fortunately, Nova was prepared: \"She had in her purse a chain that could tie up a truck. She swung that fucking thing\u2014it really looked like an anchor was attached to it. She whipped that fucking thing out and they fled.\"\n\nWhile Marsha P. Johnson was not one of the street youth per se, she was very much of the street. Born in Elizabeth, New Jersey, the city Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt grew up in, Malcolm Michaels Jr. moved to New York the same year Tommy left home for good, 1966. The two youths also shared a deep religious sensibility, but Marsha Johnson was deeply disturbed, so that while her religious pronouncements could have the oracular tone of direct experience, they also had the unsettlingly weird quality of statements made by persons suffering from psychosis: \"Sometimes I have visions. In one of them, there were ten suns shining in the sky, gorgeous and freaked out, like the end of the world. I love my saints, darling, but sometimes the visions can be scary.\" Her off-center nature is also shown by the way she used materials she found on the street for her wardrobe: costume jewelry earrings became ornaments not for her ears but her hair, sometimes she wore red plastic high heels, and she might deck herself out in flowers, either real ones discarded by flower merchants or plastic flowers or artificial fruit from a five-and-dime. But this describes Marsha years after she arrived in the Village. In the early days she tended to go out mainly in semidrag and called herself Black Marsha. (When she later dropped the _Black_ and started calling herself Marsha P. Johnson, she explained that the _P_. stood for \"Pay it no mind.\")\n\nThat energy and craziness were essential characteristics of Marsha's life is seen in her acknowledgment that by 1979 she had had several attempts made on her life by johns, eight nervous breakdowns, and innumerable arrests\u2014after one hundred she had stopped counting. But the characteristic most often cited by those who knew Marsha best was her essential goodness. Tommy remembers seeing Marsha stealing a loaf of bread early one morning from a delivery left behind a shopkeeper's gate and then passing it to a homeless person. Randy Wicker flatly stated that Marsha \"was the most generous person I ever knew.\" And a volunteer at a thrift shop where Marsha bought her outfits, recalling \"the fella that used to buy all the gowns,\" described Marsha as a \"wonderful, sweet person.\"\n\nBut Robert Heide recalls another side to the childlike Marsha, who could be both helpless and charming. He sometimes saw a demon emerge, especially when Marsha was in his male persona as Malcolm. \"I think we all have that to some degree, but apparently in Malcolm\/Marsha's case there was this real duality and it would take hold. There was a schizophrenic personality at work, for Malcolm Michaels could be a very nasty, vicious man, looking for fights. You could say hello to him and if he was Malcolm that day, he might not recognize you or you might be in trouble or a fight might even ensue.\" Heide's experience of this side of Malcolm is borne out by Randy Wicker, who took Marsha in as a roommate decades later. While Marsha was generally an ideal living companion, on one occasion she wrecked Randy's residence. A 1979 _Voice_ article also reported that Marsha's \"plumed saintliness\" was \"volatile\" and quoted a Christopher Street shop manager who described her as a \"bully under that soft sweet manner\" and listed a roster of gay bars from which she had been banned.\n\nDespite her toughness, the incessant police harassment stung. Marsha was as much an habitu\u00e9 of 42nd Street as she was of the Village waterfront, and she spent much time in the cheap \"hot-spring\" hotels that prostitutes favored for their liaisons. Sitting with her fellow prostitutes in the small hotel rooms, she had a recurring fantasy, that one day they would be able to walk around and not get busted by the police: \"That was a dream we all had, sitting in those hotel rooms or in the queens' tanks of the jails.\"\n\n*The extract in full capitalization is from _Mother Stonewall and the Golden Rats_ , a work of art in the form of a handbill by Thomas Lanigan-Schmidt.\n\n#\n\n# The Stonewall Inn\n\n_There were some lesbians, hustlers, married people, single people, some transvestites, but not too many. It was the heart and soul of the Village because it had every kind of person there_.\n\n_\u2014Philip Eagles_\n\nOpening the Stonewall Inn was a venture that took little money and even less imagination. When the Stonewall Inn Restaurant closed after a fire in the midsixties, the building sat empty for some time, until Fat Tony converted the space into a gay club with a minimum of effort. Harry Beard, a waiter at the Stonewall, recalls \"one of the managers remarking, 'Yeah, paint the joint black and give it a little class.' So, consequently, the walls and the ceiling and anything else that happened to get in the way were painted black.\" Apparently the color was chosen not only because so many gay bars at the time were painted black but also because one coat of black would cover the burned wood and save the expense of replacing it. An extensive contemporary description of the club noted: \"There's a certain hastiness about the look of the place. It seems to have only recently been converted from a garage into a cabaret in about eight hours and at a cost of under fifty dollars.\"\n\nThis early reviewer was correct in his estimation that only a small amount of money had been used to open the bar. Chuck Shaheen, who helped Fat Tony open the Stonewall Inn, estimates the total spent at less than a thousand dollars. However much money may have been expended on remodeling, Shaheen is precise about how much cash was used to start the club: \"Tony invested $2,000 and three guys invested $500 each, and that's what started the Stonewall. I remember distinctly the $3,500 being the exact amount... because Tony always said, 'We did this on $3,500.' \" For his partners Tony chose Zookie Zarfas, who was in the firecracker business, \"Tony the Sniff,\" and \"Joey,\" apparently because all three were childhood friends. But there was another more significant partner who did not have to put up any money: Matty Ianello, known as Matty the Horse, had been given control of that section of the West Village by the Genovese family and so, according to Mafia protocol, automatically got a cut from mob businesses in that territory. Without investing a dime, he was considered \"the real boss, the real big boss.\" The modest investment would soon make the four partners who did put up money a tidy fortune.\n\nThe mobsters did have the white Greek Revival columns that had graced the entrance to the restaurant demolished, perhaps so they could more easily install the heavy doors they wanted to provide security for their new bar. Around this same time, a fresh coat of stucco was applied to the building's exterior, hiding the brick that had become exposed as the building had deteriorated during the Stonewall Inn Restaurant's decline.\n\nNot even much imagination was used in naming the new \"club\": all that Fat Tony did was lop _Restaurant_ off the name of the former enterprise, which allowed him to keep the enormous rusting sign hanging just above the club's entryway. Fat Tony did not even bother to have the word _Restaurant_ painted over.\n\nIn spite of recent modifications forced upon the SLA, because Fat Tony intended to serve a clientele that he could not legally sell liquor to he needed a ruse. The ploy that Fat Tony used was a common Mafia ploy for running a gay bar, the fiction that the operation was a bottle club, a private club serving its members. To that end a charter that had been issued to the Red Swan Social Club in 1929 was obtained for the new club. In a true bottle club, members could bring their bottles and leave them at the club with their names on them. Waiters at such a club could pour a drink from the member's private stock and the club members would tip the waiter for doing so. But the staff of the Stonewall Inn just made up names, wrote them on strips of paper, and attached the strips to bottles to fool the police. In practice, the club served anyone the doormen admitted.\n\nIf little imagination was used to create the Stonewall Inn, the club did break new ground by being a large gay club in a rather open area and on a main thoroughfare, instead of on a side street, as was more typical in New York City, which is what Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt remembers noticing about the Stonewall Inn the first time he saw it.\n\nA customer entering the Stonewall Inn would see that the entrance was in the middle of a brick edifice, directly under the hulking metal sign and between two large horizontal windows that, as was true of the windows of almost all street-level gay bars in New York City at the time, were blacked out so that the police and the public could not see inside, providing the clientele privacy and security. For extra protection, the windows were reinforced from the inside with plywood, which was further reinforced with two-by-fours to prevent the police from being able to simply break through the windows and rush inside.\n\nThe thick oak doors were rendered more secure by steel doors inside them and several inside locks intended to slow down the police in a raid. Each of the front doors had two small vertical openings cut into it at eye level. One of the four openings served as a peephole to screen potential customers, giving the establishment somewhat the feel of a speakeasy. Dawn Hampton, a black heterosexual woman and former torch singer who had worked in many gay clubs, remembers that \"at that time there was a lot of entrapment going on, police coming to the door and pretending they were of that life.\" Chris Babick, a frequent customer, recalls that \"the door of the Stonewall had wrought iron bars across this little peephole, a little wooden thing that slid open. And the man inside would look at you and, if you looked like you belonged there, would let you in.\"\n\nAnother technique used to screen out undercover police or heterosexuals who might not blend in well was to ask would-be customers to describe the inside of the Stonewall Inn as proof they had been there before. The most common test of entry, however, was simple recognition by the doorman. Blond Frankie, who had worked at a number of gay clubs before working at the Stonewall, had a nearly photographic memory for faces, which earned him a spot at the door. Harry Beard remembers that \"a favorite ploy of the vice cops was to pass themselves off as a typical patron, and the Stonewall... would always say, 'This is a private club, for members only.' I assume that the standard response in those days was, 'Well, I've been here before.' And Frankie would just look at their face and go, 'Well, no, you haven't.'\" The entrance's final defense was a switch that the doorman could throw to turn on the bright white lights inside as a signal that the bar was being raided.\n\nWhen a customer had passed inspection, the door was opened and the bouncers would be found sitting at a table to collect $1.00 for admission on weekdays and $3.00 on weekends. On the weekends after a patron plunked his money down, one of the doormen would tear two tickets off a roll and hand them to him. Each ticket could be traded for a drink. (Rolls of tickets of different colors were rotated to prevent customers from cheating on readmission and\/or holding unused tickets for a later weekend.) A special lamp was also used for door control: customers wanting to step outside and return later could tell the doorman they were coming back, and he would stamp their hands with an invisible ink that would show up under the lamp's blue light.\n\nCustomers were asked to sign a book as part of the Stonewall Inn's fiction of being a private club. The book-signing ritual served in part to prevent straight people from entering. One regular club goer remembers that in the summertime the front doors to the Stonewall Inn would sometimes be open. \"They would stop straight people who were coming in: 'No, this is a private club.' That's the reason for the book to sign in.\" Theoretically, the book could also have been introduced in court as evidence of the Stonewall Inn being a bottle club. Perhaps it functioned too as a kind of prop to mock or try to confuse the police. Certainly some customers were in on the joke, for they scrawled campy names such as Elizabeth Taylor and Donald Duck in the book. But there was also a measure of self-protection in using the false names: if the police did seize the book, it could not implicate anyone as a \"deviate.\"\n\nUpon entering, those who wanted to check their coats turned to the left, where the checkroom was located on the left side of a dead-end corridor, directly behind one of the large windows. Hampton remembers that homosexual men dressed more formally then than in the years after the gay liberation movement launched a more casual and identifiably gay style of dress: \"Most of the men were wearing outer jackets. They weren't wearing so much leather back then or so much denim at that time. There was a whole different mind-set: there were some men who wore hats in those days.\"\n\nBeing a heterosexual woman did not stop Hampton from enjoying a warm relationship with the club's clientele: \"I wasn't hitting on anybody. I wasn't trying to straighten anybody out or anything like that, so I was very accepted. A lot of the kids called me Mommie. It used to be a fine joke for me when someone would say something to me about having children and I said, 'I have a ton of them.'\"\n\nTo get into the main bar\u2014located on the east side of the Stonewall Inn\u2014those with nothing to check simply turned to the right at the end of the lobby, passed through an inner door that was usually open, and stepped down one step.\n\nA customer who had gotten this far was now into the Stonewall Inn's largest room, whose most prominent feature was a long bar, with many round stools. While the clientele was generally in their upper teens and lower twenties, those at the front bar tended to be white men in their upper twenties and lower thirties, with men over the age of thirty-five being unusual, though by no means unheard of. On the wall in back of the customers seated at the long bar was a narrow ledge on which customers could rest their drinks.\n\nAt the end of the bar was an area reserved for dancing, with the music provided by a jukebox stocked with singles, which could be played for ten cents a song or three for a quarter. The music made it possible for customers to dance, which was the Stonewall Inn's main attraction from the day it opened its doors.\n\nOn St. Patrick's Day of 1967 Danny Garvin headed downtown, figuring that he would enjoy an evening at Julius' before heading to Chicago to stay with his sister. He would go to Illinois to pull his life back together, but being Irish, he would never have considered not celebrating the holiday. An older man walked up to the fresh-faced youth and demanded, \"What are you doing in here?\"\n\n\"Well, I'm having drinks.\"\n\n\"You should be around the corner with all the chicken.\"\n\nMore language confusion. Danny gave the older man a quizzical look.\n\n\"That new bar that opened up around the corner tonight, Stonewall. They're all over there.\"\n\nDanny walked one block over to the Stonewall Inn and entered. The place was \"fairly well packed\" with young people, but what really struck Danny was that people were \"dancing all over the place.\" Shocked anew, he thought, _Men don't dance with other men! This will never last!_\n\nChris Babick was also impressed the first time he went to the Stonewall Inn by the sight of men dancing, but for him the reaction was positive: \"And there were men dancing with men. And when I [saw] the two men\u2014there were several couples dancing together\u2014I had such a thrill in my stomach. It was... like an electric shock. And it was so fucking exciting.\"\n\nDawn Hampton recalls, \"I was there when they originally opened it as a dance palace. People came there because they loved to dance.\" _The Homosexual Handbook_ , published in 1968, said: \"The younger, more agile and more sensationally demi-dressed, jerk and bump on the rather large dance area at the end of the [front] room.... Spotlights are pointed directly down and they light the dancing youths dramatically.\" All contemporary accounts of the Stonewall Inn are unanimous in their agreement on the centrality of dancing to the club. Dawn Hampton told an interviewer, \"It's not like the places that had back rooms in the last twenty years. It was just a place where they loved to dance. They loved to be together and wanted to be with their own kind.\"\n\nAn habitu\u00e9 of the club concurs: \"There was a sense of community feeling in the Stonewall. You would meet your friends there. It was a fun time, a good time. There was a warmer feeling in the bars, a nicer feeling, I'd say, than there is now [1989]. Maybe because bars are advertised now.... You didn't know then, so someone had to point the Stonewall out to you, or let you know, or somehow you just happened to see a bunch of men walking in there. Because you wouldn't see two guys on the street holding hands then, so it was more of an in place. Gay people were different back then. Guys would ask you to dance.\"\n\nOf course dancing was not the only activity that went on in the front room. Vito Russo remembered the front room as a place for cruising and camping. For people who wanted to sit, there were some tables set up in the club, usually for two, with little candles on them.\n\nDrinks were priced at a dollar each, a high price for the era. There was pressure from the Stonewall staff to order a drink very soon after entering: \"You got a ticket, but they wanted you to buy your drink _zip_ when you went in and that was the main bar,\" recalls Chuck Shaheen. On weekend nights, after customers had gotten two drinks by trading in their tickets, the staff would then pressure them to buy more. Even though drinks were priced high, the mob was only passing out watered-down drinks. Even so, the staff was pouring liquor that had been stolen or obtained from bootleggers. Shaheen remembers that it all \"came from Matty the Horse's company,\" explaining that \"none of the liquor was brand-name liquor. We would go in the back at the beginning of our shift and take Dewar's bottles and pour whatever swill we could get into it. The same with vodka. It wouldn't be Smirnoff. Nothing would be what it said it was.\" The club kept one bottle each of a couple of call brands for favored customers. According to Shaheen, everything that was sold in the Stonewall Inn came only from Mafia suppliers, the liquor, the cigarettes, and even the music on the jukeboxes.\n\nThe lighting was very dim throughout. The first room had a low ceiling that combined with the darkness to create a cavern-like feel. Smoky air filled the bar, for the club's only ventilation came from several small, inadequate air conditioners. However, the men liked to wear perfumes, such as Tabu and Ambush, both marketed to women, whose aromas gave the place a rich, saturated atmosphere.\n\nIn the wall dividing the front from the back room was a doorway with swinging black doors through which one passed, stepping up one step, to the back room. There was one other route between the two main rooms\u2014through the bathrooms at the club's rear. The rest rooms had doors on both ends, which allowed them to be used as passageways. The women's room was distinguished by having a red lightbulb, which irritated some of the scare queens (men who affected a feminine presentation without trying to pass as women) and transvestite club goers, for the dim light made it difficult for them to adjust their makeup.\n\nThe men's room was distinguished by having its own attendant. Beard remembers him as \"an old black guy named John. He used to dispense colognes and underarm deodorants, and razors and soap and towels and toilet paper and such.\" Michael Fader remembers John as heterosexual. He sat in the corner, at the ready to give a club goer a shot of cologne on his neck for a tip. A rest room attendant in a place as down-at-the-heels as the Stonewall Inn sounds improbable; however, he may have been there to discourage men from having sex in the rest room and making the Stonewall even more legally vulnerable.\n\nWhether reached via the main doorway or by cutting through one of the club's rest rooms, a customer who reached the Stonewall Inn's second room found himself in a setting different from the front room. While the first room was dominated by its long bar, the second room was much smaller and had only a small bar and even dimmer lighting.\n\nHarry Beard recalls that the back room had \"a service bar with a few stools around it.\" The back room had some cheap wood paneling, a ledge to set drinks on, and a few tables, with a bench against the wall providing additional seating. While usually only one floor waiter circulated in the front room, a number of floor waiters worked the back room, and they pushed drinks very aggressively.\n\nTommy preferred the music on the jukebox in the back room. There the records were releases by artists who put a lot of feeling into their songs, such as Otis Redding and Stax recording artist Carla Thomas (called the \"Queen of Soul\" by Redding). In the front room, the jukebox offered more mainstream performers such as the Beach Boys. The back room, with its more soulful music, made up in spirit whatever it lacked in size. Its lively feeling derived from its being the favored place of the homeless youth, as well as of young blacks and Puerto Ricans. Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt recollects how some people called the front room \"the white room,\" because of its racial makeup and its music. For similar reasons, patrons dubbed the back room the \"black\" or \"Puerto Rican room.\" Always crowded, the younger and the \"in\" crowd claimed the back room as their domain. The back room's flagstone floor gave it an advantage for energetic dancers.\n\nJust a few feet inside the doorway one found the Stonewall Inn's most unexpected feature, a full-sized wishing well constructed of stone and cement. Surrounded by benches, the five- or six-foot-tall well had a roof over it. In the days when the club operated as a restaurant, the wishing well had often graced wedding receptions, and many pictures of brides and grooms had been carefully posed with the well as a prop. Now the well stood incongruously in the dim light amid the jukebox's constant blare, its potential for romance and charm not even noticed by the Stonewall staff, who used its interior as a makeshift storage space. Tommy recalls how he never knew what he might see inside it: bags of ice, empty boxes, or boxes full of beer temporarily parked there on the way to being consumed.\n\nThe back room had its own social geography, with the street end being where the most marginal of the Stonewall's customers congregated, including Tommy: \"It was where the most down-and-out queens hung out, because that was the furthest out place.\"\n\nThe question of different parts of the Stonewall being favored by different clientele raises the long-debated issue of what kind of club it was after all. Who went there and who did not? Did some group or groups predominate so that it can be categorized as a particular kind of gay bar?\n\nWhile the clientele was mainly male and young, Hampton says that the bar had \"some of everything... a lot of them were businessmen and didn't want their families to know, naturally.\" She states that the mixture included various ethnic groups: \"They were mixed Spanish, whites, and blacks, but there were more whites than the others.\" Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt agreed that \"somehow, it covered the range... the whole mixture of everyone gay at the time.\" Robert Bryan said the mixed clientele reminded him of how a gay bar in a small city would draw all kinds of gay people \"and you get the women, and the leather, and the collegiate, and the drag queens,\" and he felt the similarity was explained by a corresponding cause, that the Stonewall Inn \"was _the_ gay bar in the city.\"\n\nFader says that \"eighty percent [of the crowd] you wouldn't know anybody there from [somewhere] else,\" before making the critical point for understanding the Stonewall Inn: that \"anyone who was in the margins of gay society would be free to go there, because they were totally accepted.\" Bryan says: \"The street queens were the predominant force in there, although there were all types of people,\" with the result that \"it did have an overall kind of a trashy reputation, and certainly, that was the predominant ambience: trashy, low, and tawdry.\" Vito Russo similarly recalled: \"It was a bar for the people who were too young, too poor or just too much to get in anywhere else. The Stonewall was a street queen hangout in the heart of the ghetto.\" Perhaps Allen Young characterized it best when he said the club was the \"favorite hang-out of the freest of the gay people\u2014those most likely to be labeled 'fag' and 'drag queen.'\" The nature of the Stonewall's crowd made Young so uncomfortable that he \"preferred the more up-tight and sedate (read, 'masculine') crowd at Danny's, a few blocks closer to the waterfront.\"\n\nOne of the more disputed points about the Stonewall clientele is to what extent women went there and how many of those were lesbians. Hampton says that \"all gay men went there. Very few, if any, gay women at all. Usually I would practically be the only woman around.\" Shaheen said, \"It was 98 percent men.\"\n\nCertainly some of the women were heterosexual. One Stonewall regular recalls, \"Some women who would go to the Stonewall were hippie straight women, or some woman who would look like a drag queen.\" One gay man who went to the Stonewall Inn with a female\u2014although a very young one\u2014was Chris Babick. When Chris started going there in 1968 he was a seventeen-year-old high school senior but looked so much younger that he relied on his fifteen-year-old friend Peggy to buy him drinks. Shaheen adds that \"the floormen [waiters who circulated selling drinks] always loved girls to come in because [the floormen] were straight.\"\n\nEarly Stonewall researcher Tina Crosby concluded in 1974: \"The screening process at the door effectively excluded women; each person I talked with remembered the Stonewall as an exclusively male bar, with the only exception being an occasional tough lesbian or female friend of one of the male patrons.\" Jennifer \"Hardy\" (not her real last name) remembers seeing a lesbian of this very type on her first visit to the Stonewall Inn as a seventeen-year-old runaway: \"There was this woman in there, and she was big.... That's not what I was looking for. I didn't want somebody that would control me and beat me up and that's kind of the impression I got from her, that she was strong and that she was mean. I don't know if she was a bouncer or what she was, but I steered clear of her.\" The presence of this kind of lesbian at the Stonewall reflects the predominance in the lesbian social scene at that time of the butch-femme model.\n\nThe one dissenting voice about the kind of lesbians who frequented the Stonewall is Shaheen, who remembers beautiful hairdressers, which suggests that \"femme\" lesbians patronized the Inn and raising the intriguing possibility that they might have been mistaken for heterosexual women or even for \"fag hags,\" since they brought along their male homosexual counterparts: \"There were lesbians and they were not of the very butch type of lesbians in those days. Remember that its biggest clientele were hairdressers.... They were big tippers, and some of them were women and some of them were gay.\"\n\nThe last hotly contested issue about the clientele is the extent to which transvestites came to the Stonewall. The general consensus confirms the usual presence of a few. Certainly all credible witnesses agree that the Stonewall Inn never became a \"drag queen bar.\" But what determined if a drag queen was admitted? Shaheen said simply that \"it all had to do with the doorman knowing you.\" Some of the drag queens Shaheen recalls going to the Stonewall Inn are Tiffany, Desiree, Spanola Jerry (a hairdresser), and Tammy Novak, but he quickly added, speaking of the first three, \"They were spenders. That's why they got in,\" making it plain that not any transvestite could walk up to the door at any time and be admitted. As for Tammy Novak, she clearly belonged to a special category, having lived with Fat Tony and Chuck Shaheen.\n\nThe presence of drag queens at the Stonewall Inn has been much exaggerated over the years for a number of reasons. One of the first is a terminology problem. The word _queen_ was more widely used in the late sixties to indicate any gay man who was not conventionally masculine, whereas today the word usually occurs in the phrase _drag queen_ or indicates a very feminine gay male. Thus when a contemporary person reads about \"a whole bunch of queens,\" the picture that may come to mind is one of transvestites, whereas the 1960s usage probably simply indicated a group of gay men, with the understanding that none of them were totally straight-acting.\n\nComplicating the picture is the existence in the late 1960s of gay men known as _scare queens_ or _flame queens_. One of the club's regular customers explains the meaning of these terms that describe a kind of gay male who became practically nonexistent not long after 1969: \"What you had back then was the flame queens, which were very similar to the character Emory in _The Boys in the Band:_ they were supereffeminate, hair would be teased, they would wear eye makeup, Tom Jones\u2013type shirts, maybe hiphuggers, bright colors. A good example of this was Brandy Alexander, who used to perform at the 82 Club and who was an extra in the movie _Midnight Cowboy_. I remember Brandy saying to me she would have to go up there and do the streets, and even then, even though Brandy was a performer in drag\u2014in the movie [when] they would show you the drag queens on 42nd Street, they're flame queens. You couldn't do the whole drag thing [in the film], because that's not how people dressed: you would be arrested. So as far as the Stonewall being all these drag queens, no, there were flame queens. Even Barbara Eden [a male, Barbara Eden being a camp name] who worked there in the coat check didn't do drag except once in a blue moon.\"\n\nThis distinction helps resolve some of the seemingly contradictory accounts about how many transvestite and transsexual customers patronized the Stonewall. For example, Chris Babick spoke to Michael Scherker as if the transvestite population at the Stonewall was quite sizable. However, when Babick describes what he wore, it fits the description given earlier of \"scare\" or \"flame\" queens: \"I had bleached hair and I started wearing makeup [because] I had this acne problem. My favorite outfit was these black pair of hiphuggers, bell-bottoms, and my straight girlfriend embroidered daisies on the bottom of them, this trim.... And I had this favorite cotton satin-type shirt.... And I'd wear that with this big belt with a big buckle and my boots.\" It also seems clear that while there was high drag at the Stonewall, there was also low drag, which practically fits into the previously mentioned category of \"flame queen,\" as is the case with the following person Edmund White saw there: \"There was one [drag queen] that was always there, this very tall black one who I called the whirling dervish because he would get out by himself on the dance floor and turn around with his leg just shooting through the air. He was under thirty and would wear pedal pushers and a midriff shirt and maybe a wig, but the kind of thing that he could take the wig off and put it in his pocket and look kind of like a boy, because I think a lot of times these boys had to go back to Harlem at night. They could make the transition pretty quick\u2014maybe they carried shopping bags and checked those. I'm not quite sure, but I have a feeling they did a quick change on the subway as they were going up to Harlem late at night.\" From White's description, one can imagine that someone who saw the whirling dervish with his wig on might describe him as a drag queen (with the understanding that he was not trying to pass as a woman), but someone who saw him without the wig would undoubtedly consider him a \"flame queen.\" Perhaps the most accurate way to characterize the Stonewall Inn in terms of what we currently call transgender identity is that while there was a lot of gender transgression going on there, this was largely a reflection of the male homosexual world of the time, that most men who went there were conventionally masculine, but that there was a considerable minority of men there who ran the gamut from men effeminate in their mannerisms, to scare or flame queens, to a few transvestites and some transsexuals.\n\nFinally, the most important point about the clientele at the Stonewall Inn is that all segments of the gay and lesbian community, including a strong representation of the more marginal elements, defined the Stonewall Inn as a special place in the homosexual world of greater New York, giving it a unique status at that time. Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt was so struck by this feature on his first visit that he described the Stonewall as a kind of temple of homosexuality: \"If the Tenth of Always was like a little parish church, the Stonewall would be like St. Peter's in Rome.... It was big in its scope.... Somehow, it covered the whole mixture of everyone gay at the time.\"\n\nWith two dance floors, the Stonewall Inn became wildly popular. Harry Beard recalls, \"We had a real healthy segment of people with cash, a lot of people from the bar business, since at that time we were the largest gay club anywhere in the country, probably the largest club period.\"\n\nAnd so it was that when the Stonewall Inn opened its doors for business on the night of March 18, 1967, immense profits began to pour in. Chuck Shaheen recalls that \"we used to take out of there between $5,000 and $6,000 on a Friday night and [again] on Saturday.\" With the initial investment being $3,500 and the monthly rent only $300 a month, the Stonewall Inn made back all of its investment and then some the first night, so that after a few hours of operation it was essentially pure profit every day for nearly two and a half years. Shaheen explains that to prevent the loss of such large sums of money, part of the bouncers' job was to \"go around and pick up our banks,\" an errand on which they carried baseball bats. The money was kept in cigar boxes, which had several advantages over cash registers. The first time the police raided the club they seized the cash registers as evidence of the illegal sale of alcohol. After that, the club used cigar boxes, not only because the expensive machines would be lost in future raids, but they could also be used as evidence against the owners, who, as operators of a purported bottle club, were not supposed to be selling anything. After removing the money from the cigar boxes, the bouncers wrapped rubber bands around the rolls of cash and casually tossed them into the Stonewall Inn's office. Chuck Shaheen eventually moved up from being a bartender and lived with Fat Tony as a kind of man Friday, and one of his duties was to run the money over to \"the family bank,\" the Bank of Commerce on Delancey Street, where \"most of the money was put through.\"\n\nOf course it was impossible to make so much money in such a public setting without being noticed. The huge profits certainly caught the eye of Craig Rodwell. Since practically the only social outlet gay people had in New York City was bars, it infuriated Rodwell that these places were controlled by the Mafia and not by the gay community. \"Bars have always been our only place, our haven in a sense. I was always furious that the mob controls so much of our social life.\" Having worked in gay bars, Rodwell had learned how much the management loathed their gay customers: \"They like our money and hated our guts. And that was one of the major issues around the Stonewall. There was that collusion between the cops and the mob, and we were like caught in the middle all the time.\"\n\nCharacteristically, Rodwell took an activist approach to the bar situation. Having his own publication and the opportunity to distribute it in his bookstore, he used the _Hymnal_ to critique the implications of the Mafia's control of the gay bar scene. About the Stonewall's finances Rodwell wrote that the bar was \"one of the... more financially lucrative of the Mafia's gay bars in Manhattan.\"\n\nSuch heady profits also interested the police, who felt they had a right to a piece of the pie. It was common knowledge when the Stonewall Inn opened that it was run by the Mafia and that the police were paid off by the club, the standard practice for lesbian and homosexual clubs in New York City. One reason that the payoffs were common knowledge is that, as Kevin Brew noted, \"It's the kind of thing you don't see in actuality. You don't see the bartender paying the police, but you knew something was going on because they left the bar alone (after the payoff).\" Craig Rodwell noted the same thing in _Hymnal_ in his list of characteristics that explained how to tell if a club was Mafia run: \"Policemen will make periodic and mysterious appearances to talk with the goons at the door.\" Shaheen confirms this method of payment: \"The police were very much on the payroll of the Stonewall.... The Sixth Precinct. I can only account for the Sixth Precinct.\" Asked how often the police came by to collect, Shaheen replied, \"Once a week. There were two [envelopes]. Because in those days there was an officer and that was his beat, and then someone in the precinct, usually the captain or the desk sergeant, would get an envelope.\" As for the amount paid, Shaheen said he did not know the exact amount but was positive it was hundreds of dollars a week.\n\nThe Stonewall was in Manhattan's Sixth Precinct, and from all available evidence, there is no reason to doubt that the Sixth Precinct was paid off by gay bars and clubs. For example, Tim Callahan, who worked at the bar Danny's for around six months during the time the Stonewall was open, said that he saw the precinct captain come by several times. Each time the same thing happened: the captain would have a drink with the bar's owner during which time they seemed to have a congenial conversation, after which they would both walk out to the captain's car. While Tim never actually saw money change hands, he had no doubt that this was taking place. During his time at Danny's, these friendly visits from the captain were the only times Tim ever saw a policeman enter the bar.\n\nOther rare contemporary evidence of the police receiving bribes comes from a letter Dick Leitsch wrote:\n\nThose two cops who came to visit us... have informed me that they discovered one of the cops whose name I gave them was taking payoffs from that club [the Stonewall Inn], and he's been dismissed from the force. The other one is still under investigation and surveillance, though they think he's clean. They're not going to take any action against the Stonewall.\n\nThe amount the Stonewall Inn paid to the Sixth Precinct was $1,200 per month, according to a _Pageant_ magazine article on police corruption. The article was published less than five months after the Stonewall Inn opened. While the article did not name the bar, it sounds like the Stonewall Inn: \"a rather shady bar serving homosexuals.\" The article added that in terms of payoffs, the bar was the largest contributor to the police department. Proof that the bar mentioned was the Stonewall Inn comes from the $1,200 figure being given three times afterward as the amount of the Stonewall's monthly payoff (twice in 1978 and once in 1988) by Ed Murphy, who was associated with the bar.\n\nThat the Stonewall Inn was a Mafia club had many ramifications. While homosexual men were provided with a place to socialize, the downside could be considerable, for the Mafia had little or no concern for their clientele's welfare. But as one person on New York's gay scene in the fifties and sixties explained, since clubs were closed down so often by the police, gay people were desperate for places to meet and usually had to settle for dirty and dangerous environments.\n\nThe Stonewall had both. Chuck Shaheen explains the Stonewall Inn's main affront to hygiene: \"We had no running water behind the main bar. We were unable to clean the glasses. We had two sinks. We filled them up at the beginning of the shift with water. Today you need to have all kinds of hot water and detergents. We didn't use that. Because of the volume, we would just take anybody's glass and run it through the water and refill it and serve it to anybody else.\" This practice apparently caused an outbreak of hepatitis among the Stonewall's customers.\n\nThe lead article in the _Hymnal_ 's first issue attacked Mafia control of gay bars, with the Stonewall Inn serving as the epitome of all that was wrong with such clubs. The article included a report on a hepatitis outbreak: \"New York HYMNAL received a report... that the Stone Wall was going to be closed by the Health Department because it was alleged that a number of cases of Hepatitis (which has reached epidemic proportions among the homosexual community) had been traced to the Stone Wall's bar.\" As the lesbian publication _The Ladder_ pointed out, such risk to customers came as a natural consequence of the SLA's ban on licensing businesses to sell alcohol to homosexuals: \"Since the SLA refuses to issue licenses to gay bars, these bars are generally run... under unsanitary conditions.\"\n\nThe Mafia's refusal to invest in basic amenities literally spilled over into other inconveniences for customers. The front bar had a regular built-in sink and for a second sink made use of a rubber tub. At the beginning of the shift, each was filled with clean water. With hundreds of people passing through the bar on a weekend night, the water eventually got dingy enough that even the Mafia felt compelled to freshen it. \"Mike\" the porter remembers that one of his jobs was to empty the rubber tub. Since the club lacked the proper facilities for doing so, he would take the tub to the men's room and empty the contents in a toilet. Eventually, with the Stonewall's many customers flushing the toilets before and after the water from the rubber tub had been poured in, the total volume would exceed the capacity of the club's pipes and the toilets would overflow. The result was that the bathroom floors, as Lanigan-Schmidt recalls, seemed constantly wet \"with an unpleasant-looking water.\" Rodwell's _Hymnal_ lamented the \"filthy john\" and called the Stonewall Inn \"the tackiest joint in town.\" Robert Heide and his friends referred to it as \"The Cesspool.\"\n\nHowever, the Stonewall Inn posed an even greater physical threat to its customers: the building had no fire exits. Given the crowds that gathered there on the weekends, that the club had no rear exit, that it had only one doorway between its front and back rooms, and that customers fleeing a fire would have had to pass through a narrow lobby before exiting the building, a fire in the Stonewall could have had terrible consequences.\n\nNot satisfied with the huge profits made from diluted booze, the greedy Mafia owners also dealt in drugs. Rodwell explained that \"of course in any of those [Mafia bars] there's going to be a huge drug crowd. The drugs are pushed in there like crazy. That's one reason the syndicate keeps their control of gay bars. Just selling liquor is one of the minor things they do in those places.\" Vito Russo agreed, writing: \"It was possible to buy any known substance available in capsule form.\" Shaheen recalls that \"all the hairdressers were very into Desbutols, which was actually Desoxyn, but it was mixed with Nembutol,\" a combination intended to \"smooth you out as it helps you up.\" One club goer who helped supply some of the drugs denied that hard drugs were readily available: \"It would be the place you would go to cop. If you knew the right person in there, that's where you would get your acid... marijuana or whatever. Nothing like heroin or anything like that.\"\n\nThe chief purveyor of drugs at the Stonewall was the legendary Maggie Jiggs. (Though everyone called him Maggie, he did not work or live in drag. Tish, a female impersonator from the era, explained, however, that \"you knew she was gay when you saw her.\") Tish had gotten friendly with Jiggs in Providence, when Tish was living in Connecticut and commuting to Providence for school. One night as Tish took the commuter bus home, he was surprised to see Jiggs. \"I said to her, 'Where are you going?!' and she said, 'I'm going to New York.' I say, 'Really?' She says, 'Oh, yeah. I just robbed a john and I got $100, and I'm going to go to New York.'\"\n\nDespite being chubby, having a receding hairline and a clubfoot, and standing only about five and a half feet tall, Jiggs had an outgoing personality that made him hugely popular. When Tish moved to New York, he was surprised to find Jiggs a ubiquitous presence in Manhattan's gay bars.\n\n\"I start going to the clubs, and I see she's behind the bars. I would go to some new bar and I would [say], 'Well, Jesus Christ, Jiggs, what are you doing here!?' 'Oh, well, they sent me over here.' And every time I'd go to another club, Jiggs was there! Then we'd leave that club, and we'd go to an after-hours club: Jiggs would be behind the bar! She had a following. If a new bar opened up, the boys\u2014as I like to call them\u2014would say, 'Send that Jiggs there; he's got a good crowd.' You know, we all liked Jiggs.\"\n\nJiggs had a prop that he always used in his work, a tall gold-colored chalice set with stones, which normally sat on the bar. Tish used to tease Jiggs about it. \"I'd say, 'A little offering! Drop it in.' And I'd say, 'Don't forget: Jiggs is going to go to Europe, a little offering for Jiggs.'\" After circulating with the chalice, Tish would then turn to Jiggs and say, \"Well, so far, Jiggs, you've got just enough to get to the airport. You've got to work a little harder.\"\n\n\"She'd slip you the drinks and you'd give her the money and after a time she wouldn't ring it up; she'd put it in her cup, you see. So we all said, 'Oh, she's such a conniver!' But we all liked her and the bosses always knew, if you're working in a gay bar, you're going to take a little off the top.\"\n\nJiggs was even better known for the cigar box he always carried, which served among other purposes as a container for the drugs he peddled. (Jiggs was so well known for the cigar box he used that when he died, his ashes were buried in one.)\n\nStealing from the Mafia was dangerous, even for a popular bartender. Tree recalls that \"the person who collected the entrance fee, or the doorman, or the guy in the shiny suit... walked around watching to see if the bartenders were ringing up the drinks or if the waiters were reselling the entrance tickets.... Arms and legs were broken on a few bartenders and waiters when they got caught.\" In spite of her well-known light fingers, Jiggs survived unharmed because, Tish explains, \"Jiggs knew just about how much to take.\"\n\nEven with police payoffs, illegal bars were raided on an average of once a month but more frequently during an election campaign when politicians, eager to impress the electorate with how \"clean\" they were keeping the city, pressured the police to be more vigilant. Why did the police raid after being paid off? Because they were ordered to, because it was their job, and because of complaints from the Stonewall Inn's neighbors, never very happy with the gay men the Inn drew to the neighborhood.\n\nThe Sixth Precinct did at least warn the Stonewall that a raid was imminent. Chuck Shaheen explains: \"We would be alerted that we were going to be raided before we opened, so all kinds of things could be done. There was always less money on the premises. There was always less liquor... because what they would do when a bar was raided in those days, if you had cash registers, they would impound the cash register... [and] the liquor, and... let all of the customers leave. They would try and identify the people who worked there. It was never, and I repeat never, any of the real management or owners. The bosses would disappear very quickly. That's why they always had a gay person on the door, because that's the person who had to take the heat and actually get arrested.\n\n\"The white lights on the dance floor would go on and... we would have time to jump from behind the bar and mingle. And people would get rid of their drugs and all that stuff. But they were never really interested in looking for drugs and things like that, unless you still had it on your person or something, if you were one of the unlucky people to be chosen\u2014supposedly at random from the crowd by the police\u2014as an employee. We [employees] would immediately jump from behind the bar and try and take the money out of the box [and] put it in our pocket. We'd jump over the bar because we knew they had to break through the front door, which was a very strong door. [The Mafia owners] didn't want them to get the money. They would hold it as long as they could.\"\n\nThere was such close cooperation between the police and the gay bars that the police would time the raids to minimize the disruption to the bars' business. Shaheen explained, \"A normal raid would be before midnight, which would enable us [to prepare for it]... we really never got busy until after midnight on the weekend. Or they would raid it on a Tuesday night. Whoopee. If they raided it on the weekend, it was always that we would know it was going to be before midnight, before we even officially set up.\"\n\nAlthough the Stonewall Inn employees (as opposed to the owners) were occasionally taken away by the police, arrest was not viewed with any alarm. \"We were never frightened of being arrested. The police would just randomly pick people off and say, 'You, you, you, and you.' If we were arrested and taken into the Sixth Precinct, which we were many times, we automatically knew we would be out in a matter of hours. Many times it would happen that people who did not work there were arrested. But the lawyers had them out so quickly, they never even left the precinct house.\" The lawyer the Stonewall Inn used was a \"family lawyer,\" Enid Gerling.\n\nWhile there was dancing in both of the Stonewall's rooms, dancing had more of a communal character and was more expressive in the back room. Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt feels that the real power of the Stonewall for its admirers had its genesis in the music played there. From his perspective as one of the gay street youth, he saw three main ingredients at play: being gay; being unconstrained, because these youths were living from day to day; and being adolescent, they had tremendous sexual energy. Tommy explains, \"The music is carrying the articulation of this emotional need that can't be articulated on the outside publicly. You picture a bunch of kids and the towns they came from: they hear the songs on the radio, Diana Ross or the Shangri-Las, and the way they relate to it is they identify it as someone of their own sex, but they're not telling anyone. But the song is articulating that feeling both through the music and the words. At the Stonewall, all these kids who had to hold this inside in high school can now articulate this completely. At the Tenth of Always I was very conscious of their stopping people from dancing: you were never allowed the full flow of that. The Mafia people there were very gruff about telling you not to dance; they'd really treat you like queers, like you were disgusting. At the Tenth of Always it was always a little tiny dance floor and you'd hear the Shangri-Las' song\u2014something like 'walk across the room and give him a great big kiss'\u2014and you could look across the room and see sexy Vinnie over there and you could get into all the longing, but you couldn't go over and ask him to dance.\n\n\"At the Stonewall Inn the articulation becomes much more complex because not only could you ask him to dance, but a lot of other people could ask him to, so then you could get into _all_ of the feelings, like feeling sorry for yourself in a really beautiful way like a teenager is supposed to. A teenager loves to have that frustration articulated: 'Oh, I wanted to ask him to dance, and he doesn't even know I exist! And there he is dancing with that awful queen!' 'Cause I would get into this thing: 'That queen doesn't know what's good for that man, and I know what's good for him.' And then I'd go and articulate other things that I heard in a movie like, 'Oh, you have hands like Michelangelo's _David_ ,' and the guy would look at me and say, 'So what?' But the usual articulation coming in there was not from Michelangelo; it was from the Supremes and Martha and the Vandellas. So there's this really tremendous articulation seeping into people's subconscious and deepest needs, plus the place becoming a refuge and a strength.\"\n\nThree months after Danny Garvin left New York City to stay with his family in Illinois, he returned.\n\n\"I was at the point that I would have sex with men, but I wouldn't kiss; I was still in the early stages of coming out. Then I ran into this guy one night who picked me up in a Bickford's [a chain restaurant], and he was with a few friends of his. His name was Charlie, and I stayed overnight. The following night we went to the Stonewall and Charlie asked me to dance. And I said, 'No, no, no. I don't dance with men; I don't do that.' So he said, 'Why?' I said, 'I don't want anyone to see me.' He said, 'But you know, everybody in here is gay.' And it was just the fear, you know?\n\n\"So as the night went on we had a few more drinks; he asked me if I found any of the men who were with him attractive; I said 'Yeah, Frank.' And I started crying, 'cause nobody had ever asked me.\n\n\"The following night we went back to the Stonewall, and then Frank came over to ask me to dance. And I realized if I didn't dance with this guy, we probably wouldn't get it on together. It was the first man I was attracted to; it was the first time I danced. I felt embarrassed and nervous, and I realized that I liked this guy. You know, it was my first love. So we dance. It was nice. We slow danced to 'Let It Be Me,' which became our song. That was the first time I allowed myself to dance, to be part of gay life. To go ahead and kiss a man in public.\"\n\nLanigan-Schmidt feels that the appeal of the Stonewall Inn came not only from dancing to music but also from the songs' lyrics. He cites the lyrics of several songs performed by Martha Reeves and the Vandellas as examples of lyrics that could have a particular resonance for those who went to the Stonewall Inn. One example is \"Third Finger, Left Hand.\" In this song the singer exults that although \"friends said it couldn't be done,\" she has succeeded in marrying the man of her dreams.\n\nTommy found magic in the lyrics, applying the idea of the attainment of something said to be impossible to his own situation as a gay man. \"It translates the same way it would to a heterosexual, but it also has other translations, because the whole thing is, it says: 'Friends said it couldn't be done.' I really would think things like, _Here we are dancing!_ because I was very aware of looking and saying, 'There's men dancing with each other and dancing slow dances with each other.' That entered very consciously in a way that impressed me. So a song like this would be like a big, celebratory thing, every word.\"\n\nTommy analyzes \"Forget Me Not\" as a poignant example of how pop music could speak to gay people. The song is written from the point of view of a woman telling her boyfriend good-bye as he prepares to sail for Vietnam. The singer tells her lover that he should remember her when he is away so that when he feels lonely or in despair they will still be united.\n\nTommy points out that not only did people generally never think of gay men as having soldiers for lovers and being separated from them by the war but that \"someone could go out and have a one-night thing with a soldier and hear that song and that song could be the way they hold on to that forever. Or they could actually have a regular steady boyfriend in the army. To have that affair or quickie sex and then come to a place and be able to dance that into a song was a major innovation of the Stonewall, because it wasn't happening anyplace else.\n\n\"Another thing in gay life that happens since you're a little kid is the ability for self-ridicule that we developed to survive, which is about laughing at ourselves with a certain poignancy. You've got all these queens in the street, and they can be pretty mean to each other, but we all get laughing. And these songs can play into that, too. All teenagers make up their own crazy words for what is not in the song. The street queens would do it, too. That song 'Trains and boats and planes are passing by to Paris and Rome for someone else but not for me,' by Dionne Warwick or someone. And these street queens would go, 'Faggots and dykes and queers are passing by; it means a trip to Paris and Rome for someone else but not for me.' Now, you could analyze it as hopes and dreams to go to Paris or Rome, or someone else is getting it, but I'm not, but it's not so serious-sounding that you couldn't laugh at it.\n\n\"At the Stonewall people would invent a line like that and then it would spread like wildfire, where a bunch of people could scream out that line while they're dancing and get into it. And it might fade away in a couple of days or it might be something they'd say forever. I think the best metaphors for Stonewall are words like _home_ , because when you're not living anywhere regularly, home becomes where you make it. A bunch of queens singing that gives each other a mutual strength, and that familial sense of the street queens, it's a kind of tribal loyalty.\"\n\nDick Leitsch also noted the special place the Stonewall Inn held for the gay community's most rejected members:\n\nThe \"drags\" and the \"queens,\" two groups which would find a chilly reception or a barred door at most of the other gay bars and clubs, formed the \"regulars\" at the Stonewall. To a large extent, the club was for them.... Apart from the Goldbug and the One-Two-Three, \"drags\" and \"queens\" had no place but the Stonewall....\n\nAnother group was even more dependent on the Stonewall: the very young homosexuals and those with no other homes. You've got to be 18 to buy a drink in a bar, and gay life revolved around bars. Where do you go if you are 17 or 16 and gay? The \"legitimate\" bars won't let you in the place, and gay restaurants and the streets aren't very sociable.\n\nThen too, there are hundreds of young homosexuals in New York who literally have no home....\n\nJobless and without skills\u2014without decent clothes to wear to a job interview\u2014they live in the streets, panhandling or shoplifting for the price of admission to the Stonewall. That was the one advantage to the place\u2014for $3.00 admission, one could stay inside, out of the winter's cold or the summer heat, all night long. It also saved the kids... from getting arrested as vagrants.\n\nThe tribal energy that Lanigan-Schmidt noticed might express itself in any of a number of ways while dancing. For example, Tommy remembers how the pin spotlights in the front room were playfully used: \"Queens used to use this expression, 'Give me vogue.' They would do these poses that they figured were like models. They'd suck in their cheeks, but they'd try to get just where the pin lights near the jukebox came in. The queens from the back room would go into the front room to show off because in the front room they'd be noticed more.\"\n\nDanny Garvin also remembers how music at the Stonewall Inn fostered communalism, especially in the back room: \"In the back room\u2014because the room was large enough\u2014is where you'd find most of the people would do their line dances. I can remember learning a dance there called 'The Spider.' And it would be a camp, because they'd get ten or fifteen of us all lined up and we'd all go across and somebody would scream, 'Hit it, girl!' and everybody would go down and touch the floor and get back up, and move on.\"\n\nAnd the back room had all the right ingredients to make it the more sexually charged of the two rooms: it had dimmer lighting, was the favored hangout of the street youths, and had better music and dancing. Harry Beard recalls, \"The back bar was for the socializers and talkers and people that wanted to play touchy-feely under the tables.\"\n\nCharles Burch found the dancing in the back room so sexual as to be inspiring. An avid reader of Walt Whitman, he believed in the poet's vision of love in its physical aspects as so free that it was universal. To him the Stonewall seemed \"terribly wonderful\" because it was a place to sexually connect with strangers, the realization of his Whitmanesque fantasies. \"To me it's nice when they play a slow tune that you could use for the kind of dancing where you get up close. 'Cause then I could do my sex dancing with some utter stranger. And that was what I loved.\"\n\nAnother testimony to the power of dancing at the Stonewall comes from Danny Garvin. Asked when it was that he first became aware of being different and how he felt about it, he responded, \"It would have been in the Stonewall that night when I first danced with that guy. I knew I wasn't drinking. I knew I wanted to go to bed with him. I was so scared to [dance with him]... And there was that fear of 'suppose somebody from my neighborhood sees me.' You know, the closet door was so tight.... There were no positive role models. Who'd know what the Mattachine Society was at seventeen?... So, yeah, the Stonewall's the first place where I started to accept myself being gay.\"\n\nWhile other clubs and settings may have offered places for socializing and making romantic and sexual liaisons and while there were a number of clubs where people could dance, the Stonewall was the only sizable place where gay men could express their sexuality freely and openly for sustained periods of time. Bathhouses offered places where gay men could actually have sex\u2014that was the bathhouses' sole purpose\u2014but socializing there was largely incidental to sexual activity. In other words, the Stonewall Inn was the only place where gay men could express all sides of their personalities. Not only could gay men dance freely, but there also could be a certain expansiveness about their dancing, given the physical size of the club and the tight security provided by the Mafia.\n\nTommy Lanigan-Schmidt succinctly sums up the meaning of the Stonewall Inn in this regard when he says, \"It was as real as the street, and also\u2014what was the biggest step in there\u2014at the Tenth of Always, when you'd dance with someone, you always knew that any minute the chandelier would flick on and you'd have to go sit down. At the Stonewall, everyone just kept dancing. It was open a few years before those riots. It sunk its roots deep because it had longevity and because you were never told not to dance.\"\n\nWith its owners interested only in exploiting gay people, the Stonewall was not an ideal place for gay men. Yet it offered its patrons three crucial things: space, security, and freedom. Added to these were longevity and the continuity that longevity made possible. Through the power of music and dance, the club fused these elements to create among most of its regular customers a sense of gay community and identity and thus a loyalty to the Stonewall Inn.\n\n#\n\n# _The Skull_\n\nWhile Chuck Shaheen clearly stated in his interview with historian Martin Duberman how Tony Lauria and his three partners became the prime movers behind opening the Stonewall Inn, when he discussed another of the Stonewall's underworld managers, he never explained how Ed Murphy, a shadowy figure known as The Skull, came to be a manager at the Stonewall Inn. This is fitting for Murphy, who seems to have been so ubiquitous in the gay bar scene in Manhattan that his presence was often taken for granted. Danny Garvin remembers seeing him \"just hanging out\" at the Stonewall Inn and at Danny's. Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt describes him in a similar vein at the Tenth of Always: \"He was always there like a Buddha. You know, he had that presence. I never saw him do anything but sit where he was. Wherever he sat, he sat and that was Murphy.\" It was as if Murphy, an obese man with a gray beard and gray suit, had a knack for insinuating himself into the gay bar scene.\n\nWhile the Stonewall Inn had its negative aspects, for most of its customers these were not usually major issues, especially when weighed against what the club had to offer on the positive side or, for that matter, when compared to most of the other New York City gay bars then in operation. But as it turns out, some of the Stonewall's patrons had more to fear from the club's operators than high-priced weak drinks and occasional police raids.\n\nOne warm evening as Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt headed up Greenwich Avenue with several of his friends, he was delighted to see one of his heartthrobs, Tano, a masculine, good-looking Puerto Rican youth. In spite of his attraction to Tano, the reason for Tommy's glee in spotting him was not because he hoped it would lead to anything romantic or even sexual. Gay men on the street passed the word to each other that Ed Murphy fancied the youth as a favorite boyfriend. Tommy had heard many different rumors on the street about Murphy, suggestions that he was powerful and connected and owned lots of gay bars. To Tommy it all boiled down to \"vague rumors of bad things,\" and so he had kept a certain distance from Tano in spite of his strong attraction. Tano's only response, however, to Tommy's circumscribed friendliness was complete aloofness. Frustrated, Tommy decided to play sour grapes by calling Tano Miss Polka Dot, for Tano often wore polka-dot shirts, like the one he had on this evening. Tommy took a perverse pleasure in baiting him, for it upset Tano enough that Tommy could see the very masculine Latino fighting down an urge to attack him. When Tommy noticed Tano that night, his first thought was, _Oh, good! I'm going to get to call him Miss Polka Dot again and see his angry, sexy face_. But on approaching the youth, Tommy heard the screech of an automobile's brakes and noticed a dark car from which several men emerged. They pulled Tano into the vehicle before speeding off. It was the last time Tommy saw Tano.\n\nIn the coming weeks two versions of a story emerged on the street to explain the youth's disappearance, both of which connected his kidnapping to Ed Murphy. In one version, Tano had stolen something from Murphy. The second rumor was that he had enraged Murphy by becoming involved with someone else. The kidnapping of a man right in front of his eyes had startled Tommy, but when he remembered that he had heard Murphy could have people rubbed out the event no longer seemed so surprising. The suspicion that Murphy was involved in the murders of youths goes back at least to the early sixties. Stephen van Cline recalls, for example, that Murphy had been involved with the early 1960s waterfront gay bar called Dirty Dick's, where, he says, a number of young men were seen for the last time.\n\nEdward Francis P. Murphy had become a hellion at a tender age. Repeatedly thrown out of Catholic schools, he came to the attention of the police at age nine when he attacked the owner of a neighborhood banana store and trashed his fruit stand. After several other brawls, Murphy was sent to a special problem school on nearby Hudson Street. The time he spent there with other juvenile delinquents did not improve his temperament, for he later hit a police officer over the head with a milk bottle in a dispute over Murphy's shoeshine box. For this infraction he was packed off to a reform school in Dobbs Ferry.\n\nWhen Murphy was released from reform school in 1943, he entered the army after a short stint in the gay bar business at the Pink Elephant, an establishment run by the Jewish Mafia. After combat in France, he left the army in 1946 and worked as a bouncer at the Moss Bar on Eighth Avenue.\n\nApparently it was his work as a bruiser for hire that led the ambitious and physical Murphy into a wrestling career. Murphy realized that he had a \"tough top\" and decided to make his head do double duty. He shaved it, anointed himself Skull, and put his cranium to work as a battering ram. The tactic worked well enough to get him into professional wrestling, where spectators came to know him for his special death hold. Murphy's aggressive style seemed to make him a natural for wrestling. A television viewer from the era recalled seeing him rip the microphone out of the announcer's hands, stomp on his opponent's head when he was unconscious, and throw chairs at old women who booed him.\n\nBy the late 1940s Murphy had teamed up with a gay friend to rob dentist offices, targeting them for their shipments of gold from dental laboratories. After robbing seventy-three dental offices, Murphy was finally caught in 1947 and served ten years in prison, the maximum time, spending much of it in isolation for assaults.\n\nWhen he left prison, he worked as a bouncer in gay bars such as the Cork Club, the Bali, Mais Oui, Sans Souci, the 415, the Terrace, and Artie's. Murphy seems to have had a penchant for moonlighting, for he also began to work as a hotel house detective.\n\nWhile the preceding record of Murphy's early career is taken from his own accounts, it was in his work in the hotel business that he first came into the public record in a way that has a direct bearing on gay history. In August of 1965 the police arrested Murphy while he was working for the New York Hilton as a house detective. He was charged with being the head of a ring that had preyed on hotel guests, extorting $100,000 from \"rich playboys and executives.\" While the newspaper report made it clear that sex had been used in the extortion scheme, only those who read between the lines would understand that the blackmailers had targeted homosexual men.\n\nSix months later Murphy's name hit the New York media in a much bigger story that was explicitly connected to homosexual victimization. This time Murphy was accused of being involved in a ring of blackmailers that preyed primarily on homosexual men. The ring had been centered in New York and Chicago, although its reach was nationwide. While the scale of the extortion ring was known to be large from the beginning, by the time the investigations were completed its scope and size were staggering: having operated for almost ten years, the ring had victimized close to a thousand men and taken in $2 million. Equally impressive was how many of these men were highly successful. Among those listed at the time or in more recent newspaper reports were the head of the American Medical Association, two army generals, Admiral William Church, a Republican member of Congress from New Jersey, a Princeton professor, \"a leading motion-picture actor,\" \"a musician who has made numerous appearances on television,\" heads of business firms, \"a much-admired television personality,\" and \"a British producer.\" None of the individuals named here were identified in the contemporary press coverage of the blackmail ring, a credit to both the men prosecuting the cases, Andrew Maloney and Robert Morgenthau, as well as the newspapers that covered the story.\n\nThe investigation began with a fairly routine arrest, when a man impersonating a detective in Grand Central Station was apprehended by a real detective, James McDonnell.\n\nAlthough the ring used several scams, by far the most common one was to send attractive young men into hotels where wealthy homosexual men came to meet such youths. The decoy would lure the man to a hotel room, attack him, and run out of the room with his wallet or other valuables and identification. Then, weeks later, after having found out which men had the most to lose, whether in terms of their families, professions, or reputations, other members of the ring, usually a pair, would call on those deemed vulnerable. The pair would produce police badges from New York or another jurisdiction and an arrest warrant. The \"policemen\" would then threaten to arrest the victim, exposing him as a homosexual. They would soon offer to \"forget about it\" if the victim would give them anywhere from a few hundred to several thousand dollars.\n\nThe nerve the blackmailers displayed was breathtaking. Tracking their victims down in their hometowns and calling on them in their homes was routine for the ring. They called on the New Jersey congressman on Capitol Hill and marched him out of his own office door so he could fly home to pick up $50,000. A surgeon was pulled out of an operating room. Members of the ring went to the West Coast and got inside a nuclear plant. The extortionists were discussing the price of their silence with a nuclear scientist when the scientist's superior walked into the office. The fast-thinking victim introduced the blackmailers as two detective friends of his who were visiting from New York. The scientist, thinking he was dealing with real detectives, suggested that they might want to see the plant. His superior approved and the extortionists were taken throughout a plant that was normally under the heaviest security strictures. When the scientist was invited to New York to testify against those who had victimized him, he at first refused to believe that they were not detectives, saying he was disgusted with the New York police. After all, as the Mattachine Society pointed out at the time, this operation did resemble the New York Police Department's use of police decoys to entrap gay men.\n\nNot surprisingly, these stories sometimes ended tragically. When Admiral William Church, the head of the New York Naval Yards, was approached by Detective McDonnell in Washington, D.C., he refused to accompany McDonnell back to New York to testify before a grand jury. Church told McDonnell that he would drive up the following day. Instead, he drove his car to a Maryland motel and put a bullet in his head.\n\nA particularly noteworthy feature about the contemporary news accounts of this story is that the initial newspaper stories listed Edward Murphy as one of the arrested extortionists, but afterward his name disappeared from the newspaper coverage. For example, in nine _New York Times_ articles on the case published between February 18, 1966, and July 12, 1967, Murphy was never mentioned again after the initial February 18, 1966 story. Yet the initial news story made it clear that Murphy was one of three ringleaders, if not the head of the entire operation. In March of 1968 the _New York Mattachine_ _Newsletter_ asked why Murphy had not been sentenced for his role in the blackmail ring. The newsletter stated that not only had Murphy served several prior prison terms, but he also had recently pled guilty under a federal indictment to extortion charges and was under \"a number of indictments\" at the state level. After pleading guilty to the federal extortion charge, Murphy had merely been put on probation for five years. The newsletter reported that Mattachine\u2013New York \"had been informed that Murphy's sentence has been so often postponed because he had made a 'deal' to turn state's evidence, and the delays are to work out another 'deal' to lighten his sentence.\"\n\nMurphy apparently did give evidence against the two other main figures in the ring: John J. Pyne, a Chicago police officer, and Sherman Chadwick Kaminsky, a Bronx native who also went by the name of Paul Vargo.\n\nHowever, that Murphy, after having been to prison several times before, could get off with serving only part of a five-year sentence merely for giving evidence against his co-conspirators, despite shaking down approximately one thousand men over almost ten years\u2014including a number of men of very eminent social rank as detailed earlier\u2014is astonishing. Moreover, while several names emerged in the newspaper accounts as key players in the scheme, word on the street said that the gang had one ringleader. The _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ of March 1968 named Ed Murphy as that person. The theory of a single person at the head of the enterprise is bolstered by a letter from Richard Inman, a homophile activist battling police extortion of homosexuals in South Florida, written to Mattachine-Washington cofounder Jack Nichols in 1965. In the letter Inman stated that he knew via a friend inside the FBI that there was one \"boss man of the syndicate's homo shakedown detail for the whole U.S.\" That Inman wrote the letter before the police uncovered the national ring adds to its credibility.\n\nThe law of averages dictates that the more prominent and wealthy (and therefore correspondingly more vulnerable) the men Murphy targeted, the more likely he was, on average at least, to get the blackmailer's ultimate prize: men who had the most to lose by any publicity while also having the most money to spend on silence. But Murphy did even better in the waters he trawled: he landed the biggest fish of all, one whose value exceeded even that of money, because this one had the ability to keep law enforcement off his back. Murphy's operation landed none other than the nation's top law enforcement officer, J. Edgar Hoover. The same net that hauled in Hoover brought along a bonus prize: J. Edgar Hoover's \"longtime companion,\" Clyde Tolson, who was, moreover, an associate director of the FBI.\n\nAllen Ginsberg, a man who loved both to gather and pass on gossip, had known since the late forties that J. Edgar Hoover was homosexual. A friend of Ginsberg's happened to be in Washington, D.C., when he ran into the FBI chief. Hoover grabbed the man through his pants, inspiring Allen to write about being \"groped by the FBI in the halls of Congress.\"\n\nAs he recalled homosexual life in the era before Stonewall, Ginsberg explained, \"There was one very tall young guy, rather portly, who later became an insurance executive, who went down to Washington and was wandering through the upper corridors of some very good hotel right near the White House and was accosted, for erotic purposes, by J. Edgar Hoover no less, and told me about that in 1947. So I always had Hoover's number, although it was very difficult to prove. Like Cardinal Spellman, another gent who was supposed to be a closet queen and supposedly had young men accompany him on his trips. That was, of course, never breathed in the newspaper, although both of those guys were fervent anti-Communists and heavy moralists and all in favor of all sorts of censorship. Nonetheless, among the underground or elegant gay world, there were many rumors about them, and even, as I say, one or two encounters, particularly with J. Edgar Hoover.\"\n\nThat Hoover was homosexual and Clyde Tolson his lover is currently generally accepted. The history of _The Homosexual Handbook_ , published in 1968, shows, however, that by the late 1960s, not only was Hoover's homosexuality whispered rather widely in the homosexual world but also that Hoover was, understandably, extremely sensitive about any public suggestion of this information. The book's last chapter, titled \"Uncle Fudge's List of Practical Homosexuals Past and Present with Very Short Biographical Notes\u2014A Hearsay Reference Work,\" includes Hoover's name:\n\nJ. Edgar Hoover: _Celibataire_ , the director of the Federal Bureau of Intelligence [sic], he has for several decades remained the _eminence froide_ of our national great society.\n\nAfter the book appeared, pressure from the FBI caused it to be withdrawn. The publisher soon reissued the book, but with Uncle Fudge's list one name shorter.\n\nKnowing that J. Edgar Hoover was homosexual, Ginsberg made an intuitive leap to explain Hoover's odd and consistent denial of the existence of organized crime. Why would the head of law enforcement for the entire United States claim to know less than what the average citizen knew from reading the newspaper, that organized crime certainly did exist, and abundantly? In 1987, well before a witness came forward to talk about Hoover appearing at parties dressed as a woman, Ginsberg explained his surmise to Obie Benz: \"[Hoover] insisted there was no organized crime. In fact, in those years [the late 1940s] I had the fantasy that the Mafia might have secret movies of J. Edgar Hoover in the basement with some big, hairy Mafia Lothario and were blackmailing him so he'd lay off organized crime, because he insisted there was no organized crime.\"\n\nFrom information published in the 1993 book _Official and Confidential: The Secret Life of J. Edgar Hoover_ , by Anthony Summers, Ginsberg's intuition has been proved correct. Not only did Summers discover that the Mafia had photographic evidence implicating Hoover in homosexual activity, but it also came to light that Hoover at times dressed in female attire. Research conducted for this book strongly suggests that Ed Murphy had one or more of these photographs, which allowed him to avoid serving time in prison for leading an extensive national blackmail ring.\n\nJohn Paul Ranieri, a former prostitute interviewed for this history, provided critical testimony for corroborating and better understanding the larger implications of Murphy's criminal enterprises for gay history. Ranieri said that as a youth from Westchester County he had been forced by blackmail and Mafia-supplied drugs into a prostitution ring in which he remained active for three years before he escaped the mob's control. He claimed that a number of youths in the ring had disappeared after they got careless with talk, for while most of the customers were more or less average homosexual men with money, the regular clientele, according to Ranieri, also included famous men such as Malcolm Forbes, Cardinal Spellman, Liberace, U.S. senators, a vice president of the United States, one of the most famous rock musicians, and J. Edgar Hoover. The mob's order, according to Ranieri, was strictly \"Keep your zipper open and your mouth shut.\"\n\nRanieri said that he met J. Edgar Hoover at private parties at the Plaza Hotel and that Hoover's name was never mentioned. Hoover was always in drag, and Ranieri said he could tell that the FBI director was sure that no one recognized him. Ranieri said that he had ensured his own survival by having in his possession a photograph of himself with Hoover, given to him by the photographer.\n\nHow does the preceding information link Ed Murphy with J. Edgar Hoover? The connection is made evident in a news story written shortly after Hoover's homosexuality and transvestism became public. When Summer's book was published, a newspaper story about the 1960s national homosexual blackmail ring suddenly appeared after a quarter of a century of silence on the subject. Without mentioning Murphy's name, it quoted law enforcement sources who had worked on the case as saying that their investigation into the nationwide blackmail ring had turned up a photograph of Hoover \"posing amiably\" with the racket's ringleader and had uncovered information that Clyde Tolson, Hoover's lover, had himself \"fallen victim to the extortion ring.\" After federal agents joined the investigation, both the photograph of Hoover and the documents about Tolson disappeared.\n\nInformation uncovered in researching this history suggests that having the goods on Hoover, Ed Murphy continued to blackmail homosexual men, using the Stonewall Inn as a prime locale for this new extortion operation. There he targeted professional gay men, especially those working on Wall Street.\n\nAccording to the same 1968 _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ that asked why Ed Murphy had not been sentenced for his role in the national blackmail ring, Murphy had an interest in several gay bars in New York, including the Stonewall Inn\u2014the only club identified in the article\u2014and these clubs' membership lists had been used for blackmail:\n\nMSNY has also been informed that Murphy has an interest in the Stone Wall, a club on Christopher Street, and several other gay clubs in New York. Our source claims that the membership lists of some of these clubs are used to further extortion and shake-down schemes.\n\nStronger evidence of Murphy using the Stonewall Inn for blackmail comes from a 1969 publication that quoted the Mattachine Society of New York. In the 1960s it was not easy to find gay bars and so, as a service, the Mattachine Society of New York began compiling lists of these bars. Eventually a local guide was published by a small business venture as the _Gay Scene Guide_ , and the publishers, on friendly terms with Mattachine\u2013New York, quoted material from that organization's newsletter. Still, the bar lists remained just that, lists of gay bars, with but one exception: In the 1969 _Gay Scene Guide_ , after the entry for the Stonewall Inn, there was a long quote from the _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ inserted in the midst of the brief descriptions of gay bars:\n\nThe following news item was reported in the March 1968 _Mattachine (N.Y.) Newsletter_ , and is presented here in condensed form... the Mattachine Society Inc., of New York, was instrumental in aiding D.A. Frank Hogan's office with information that led to the arrests of a number of blackmailers:\u2014\"Edward F. P. Murphy, an ex-convict who is alleged to have been the head of the national ring which recently was active in extorting money from homosexuals... has served prison terms for larceny and for carrying deadly weapons, and was arrested for impersonating an officer, and for extortion... under Federal indictment on extortion charges... permitted to plead guilty and received a five-year probation. On a number of indictments in the state courts, Murphy pleaded guilty on May 16, 1966... sentencing has been postponed six times... he could get up to 15 years in prison as a second offender, on the robbery charge alone. MSNY has also been informed that Murphy has an interest in the Stone Wall, a club on Christopher Street, and several other gay clubs in New York.\" We _caution our readers NEVER_ to use your real name when cruising, NEVER to give your address to a questionable bar or club, and remember, that trick or hustler you've just picked up may be \"working\" for the management! We urge you, if you've been intimidated or blackmailed in the past, to report it to the D.A.'s office, or to M.S.N.Y.\n\nThat a local guidebook took the unusual step of inserting a warning against giving out information to employees of the Stonewall Inn in the middle of a bar listing is more than suggestive. Indeed, several years later Dick Leitsch was quite forceful about Murphy's role at the Stonewall Inn, writing that he \"seemed to be the manager of the place.\"\n\n_The Homosexual Handbook_ reported that the \"burly\" at the door of the Stonewall Inn \"keeps boxes that hold, or are rumored to hold, thousands of cards upon which are printed the particulars of the many thousands of customers,\" which echoes some of the ideas found in the _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ article and may explain part of how the blackmail routine operated: did some customers naively believe that they were really being screened for membership in a private club and that this screening would protect them by both excluding police officers and helping to establish the identity of the place they patronized as a legitimate private club?\n\nBeyond Murphy's involvement in the Stonewall Inn and in blackmailing gay men, he was deeply involved in male prostitution. Chuck Shaheen, who had a very high regard for Murphy, told Martin Duberman, \"I knew Eddie Murphy for a long time.... He was into young boys. Most definitely. And was very, very involved with procurement of young boys.\" Danny Garvin recalls how he would \"always see these hustlers hanging out with [Murphy]. He had connections, and these hustler kids would hang out with him.\" Tommy explains why the Mafia would operate the Tenth of Always as an ice-cream parlor in terms of Murphy's predilections: \"The Tenth of Always had a kind of particular feeling, that you knew you were there because Murphy liked chicken. In there I felt like I was in some surreal Catholic Youth Organization dance, because everybody was like my age or younger, and the drag queens just looked like regular high-school girls, and the hustlers looked like regular high-school boys. And then it really looked crazy because everyone was sitting, sipping these sodas, and it was like\u2014there's no word to describe\u2014it wasn't a brothel, a bawdyhouse, or whatever. It was like the pickings of johns: that's what it was set up for.\" Bob Kohler, who hated Murphy passionately, cited as evidence of Murphy's loathsomeness that he paid the youths he pimped with counterfeit money.\n\nResearch on this book uncovered a couple of elusive references to a prostitution ring that was run on the second floor above the Stonewall Inn. When one looks at all the available evidence today, there is little doubt that such a ring operated out of the floor above the Stonewall Inn, although few knew it existed. But by Murphy's own account, \"upstairs the Mafia retained a room.\"\n\nCraig Rodwell's _Hymnal_ provides rare contemporary evidence that the Mafia recruited youths specifically at the Stonewall Inn for their criminal activities. Continuing its campaign to warn gay men against Mafia exploitation, the _Hymnal_ reported that \"some of the 'queenie-boppers' on Greenwich Ave. and at the Stone Wall have been approached to be [heroin] delivery boys.\"\n\nOne day, as John Paul Ranieri strolled around the Village during an interview for this history, he pointed out various places that he remembered from his life there in the late 1960s. As we wandered the area around Christopher Street, walking east on West 10th Street, we passed a parking garage on the northern side of the block where the Stonewall Inn used to be. Ranieri then pointed to a door in the reddish-brown wall a few steps above the sidewalk and said that door was the one he always passed through, entering via West 10th Street, to go to the second floor above and to the rear of the Stonewall Inn to pick up his orders. The office above the Stonewall Inn was, he said, one of two locations to which he reported for instructions on his assignations.\n\nAccording to several articles written by the gay bartender Tree, who worked as a page boy on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange in the early sixties, it was \"the world's biggest closet.\" \"Between the dirty ol' men brokers, married and single, and the employees of the NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE there were more gay men than in any gay bar at a single time.\" And if the stock exchange itself was the world's biggest closet, it also boasted, according to Tree, in the men's room on its third floor, \"one of the best T-ROOMS [public rest rooms used for sex] around... spoken about with affection all over the world.\" As if in evidence of the T-room's international pull, two 1990s articles that Tree wrote specifically about homosexuality in the Wall Street area in the 1960s include photographs of Konrad, a beautiful blond youth. The articles explain that Konrad had come on vacation from Durban, South Africa, when Tree met him in the crowded T-room. \"We fooled around a little but the traffic in the men's room was too much.\" Apparently the stock exchange T-room was so popular that it could become practically impossible even to get into at times. As Tree explained, \"Word passes on from one to another.\"\n\nBarry Perrin, a Stonewall Inn habitu\u00e9, remembered the warning he had been given about blackmail after he came out: \"Of course, there was a lot of blackmail. You heard about that sort of thing going on if somebody found out you were gay. I didn't know it then [in the late 1960s]. I found out since [in the early 1970s] that even the bartenders at Stonewall did that. That I didn't know, but they didn't bother with me, I suppose, because I was nineteen and they didn't expect me to have much of a career at that point, or money to give them.\n\n\"The Stonewall staff apparently\u2014and this is not from my memory but from what I've heard since\u2014used to talk to guys that probably looked like they were a little more successful, probably a little bit older. If they found out that you worked for a law firm or a stock brokerage firm or anything like that, you were blackmailed... especially in the stock market areas\u2014it's not that large\u2014you could be blackballed from a whole industry, and that was absolutely so.\n\n\"The good-looking bartenders in Stonewall, who were probably connected to the Mafia\u2014they themselves were probably not actually Mafia, but those were their bosses and they were told to do this, and they did it\u2014the good-looking waiters would get friendly with guys and then find out where they were. It's really so insidious, when you're talking to somebody that you find nice\u2014he's being nice, pleasant finally. Eventually you tell him where you work, and then all of a sudden this happens. It's just so awful.\"\n\nAccording to Perrin, blackmail at the Stonewall worked in a manner parallel to the national ring: those who later became blackmail victims were initially victims of a robbery that included taking documents. The ring then researched which men might be wealthy enough to be vulnerable to extortion. At the Stonewall the waiters did the research.\n\nBut beyond the Stonewall being linked to blackmailing Wall Street employees and blackmailer Ed Murphy being connected to the Stonewall Inn, is there any piece of evidence that directly connects Murphy himself to blackmailing men on Wall Street? There is: In the late 1970s, a friend of Murphy's told Morty Manford that Ed Murphy said that he had been informing on the mob to the FBI. Murphy's friend went on to explain that because the mob had discovered that The Skull was an informer, Murphy had decided to come out, stop working with the mob, and quit informing because he \"wants to become a good guy.\" Manford reacted skeptically to Murphy's claim of being an FBI informer by saying, \"I've heard... that he was involved... in a ring that was blackmailing homosexual men down at Wall Street.\"\n\nDeputy Inspector Seymour Pine had not been moved to Manhattan's First Division of the Public Morals police for long before being summoned to a meeting with his commanding officer. Detective Charles Smythe, who shared joint responsibility for Morals First Division, accompanied him. Pine was glad to have Smythe as his partner, as they knew each other quite well, having fought side by side in World War II. The men enjoyed the comfortable trust old army buddies who have been through combat together naturally feel toward each other.\n\nThe war had considerably disrupted Pine's life, but being Jewish, he had not minded: he was eager to make his contribution to the fight against Hitler. In fact, it was Pine's religion that had determined his career as a police officer, for while he had wanted to join the FBI, his father had discouraged him, knowing that it was difficult for Jews to become FBI agents. Encouraged by his father to become a police officer instead, Pine had taken courses in government and public administration at Brooklyn College before graduating from there in 1941. He entered the police department right away and also enrolled in St. John's Law School but was drafted before finishing his probationary period in the police department.\n\nThe young draftee proved to be quite a catch for the army. Pine had been captain of his college's wrestling team, played football, been president of the school's athletic association, and studied judo in the police department. With such a diverse athletic background and his training in fighting, it is understandable that during his basic training at Fort McClellan in Alabama he readily spotted deficiencies in the army's hand-to-hand fighting techniques. After he convinced his superiors that there were better ways to train soldiers in hand-to-hand fighting, he was sent as an instructor to infantry school. There he wrote a manual on hand-to-hand combat for the infantry soldier that became the army's official manual on the subject. Pine's accomplishment in writing this manual was considered proof at the time that someone who had not gone to West Point could make important contributions to the military.\n\nFrom infantry school Pine was sent to officer candidate school, graduating from the Provost Marshal General School as a second lieutenant and then being immediately assigned to teach hand-to-hand combat there. But Pine longed to be in Europe fighting, and so when he was ordered overseas he turned down an offer by the school to remain there as an instructor. Shipped to Europe at the end of June 1943, Pine was assigned to the Allied Military Government of Occupied Territories (AMGOT) both because he had been a police officer and because he had a knowledge of Italian. He served in AMGOT for a year in Sicily and Italy before being reassigned to the American School Center in England, where he instructed servicemen who were going to be running a military government in the event of victory. He was next transferred to General Patton's staff in military government but requested service in an infantry unit. His request was granted, and he was assigned to a Massachusetts outfit, the 26th Infantry Unit.\n\nServing in AMGOT, he had seen his share of hard combat. \"We would try to capture records so that we could preserve the towns. We would have to be up near the fighting when they were ready to go in, and if the shelling would start very often we would get into a foxhole with somebody else, and they were very happy that we would get in with them, when the ground was shaking and the shells were dropping\u2014you felt as if you were going to explode. You would feel the walls of the foxhole actually shake against you, reverberate, 'cause these shells were falling all around you.\" Pine was tough enough that not only could he keep his cool under such intense fire, but he also was able to calm other soldiers down. \"In between [the shelling] you'd go around and talk to your guys and break that tension, this tremendous fright, where everybody is crapping in his pants.\"\n\nIn Europe, working as a liaison with the underground forces, he was injured in a mine explosion, after which he was hospitalized for approximately thirteen months. Released from the hospital, he retired from the army as a captain and resumed his civilian job as a police officer on limited duty, as he needed hospital treatment three times a week for the following two years.\n\nAs his years in the police force passed, Pine rose through the ranks, eventually attaining the rank of deputy inspector. Before Pine's last promotion he was a captain in Brooklyn's Tenth Division. He impressed Chief Inspector Sanford Garelick by how he handled himself in a tricky situation in a Coney Island race riot. Garelick offered Pine a promotion, but Pine refused it, explaining to Garelick that he had organized a program in which he and all his officers volunteered to work with brain-injured children in patterning: manipulating the arms and legs of the children in an attempt to help them learn how to crawl. As the program was strictly voluntary and Pine had organized it, he felt that if he left the area the program would come to an end. In 1967 Garelick promoted Pine against his wishes but kept him in Brooklyn's Tenth Division. This meant moving him into Public Morals, the only opening to which Garelick could promote Pine and keep him in the Tenth Division.\n\nPine had great success in fighting the mob in Brooklyn and was known not to tolerate any corruption by his officers, and so in the spring of 1969 Garelick transferred him to a troubled unit, Manhattan's First Division Morals. The First Division included all of Manhattan from 35th Street down to Battery Park at the island's southern tip. The types of crime he had to deal with in Manhattan were generally similar to those he had investigated in Brooklyn, except that now he became involved in cases of pornography, censorship, and gay bars. He was also told that it was his responsibility to meet with representatives of the Mattachine Society, which he did from time to time.\n\nAt this particular meeting with their First Division commanding officer, Pine and Smythe learned that financial irregularities discovered in Europe reached back to the deputy inspector's bailiwick. Interpol had noticed that an unusual number of negotiable bonds were surfacing in foreign countries and had requested that the New York Police Department look into the matter: were these legal or counterfeit? The NYPD investigation had found evidence of a collusion between the Mafia and the employees of depositories to steal large numbers of bonds. Moreover, it appeared the Mafia was able to put the squeeze on certain people with access to the bonds because the Mafia had learned that some of them were homosexual. From studying the police reports on various gay clubs the commanding officer had concluded that the center of this activity lay in the general area of the city in which the Stonewall Inn was located. The commanding officer singled out the Stonewall for particular attention: police reports stated that a lot of big cars stopped in front of the club to drop off wealthy straight people who went into the Stonewall. A source of outside money?\n\nThe commanding officer made his wishes clear: He wanted those clubs put out of business. Particularly the Stonewall Inn.\n\n#\n\n# _Dawn Is Just Breaking_\n\nAs Craig Rodwell sat down to write an article for the _Hymnal_ 's fourth issue, due out in May of 1968, he felt the homophile movement was stalled locally. It was natural then that he turned to events on the West Coast, which he found inspiring. As he warmed up to what he felt could be accomplished in New York, he extolled the accomplishments of the Society for Individual Rights (SIR) in San Francisco: \"In three years, it has opened a community center with varied social activities, a theater, a storefront, and has become a force to be reckoned with in San Francisco. Candidates for public office seek their support.\" After mentioning that SIR had 3,500 active members\u2014Mattachine\u2013New York then had about 550\u2014Rodwell wrote: \"The same thing can and must be done in New York City.\"\n\nBy the mid-1960s San Francisco already had a rich history of homosexual activism. In 1961, in response to San Francisco gay bars being shaken down by the police and alcohol authorities, an openly gay drag queen, Jos\u00e9 Sarria, ran for the position of city supervisor by circulating a petition among the city's gay population, helping to set off \"developments that fed a steadily growing stream of gay political activity in San Francisco,\" as historian John D'Emilio has written. One of the new endeavors sparked by Sarria's campaign was the formation of a group known as the League for Civil Education (LCE), which began printing the _LCE News_ , \"the first sustained attempt to bring the movement into the world of the gay bar... its circulation in San Francisco alone [after one year] exceeding nationwide figures of _One, The Ladder_ , and the _Mattachine Review_.\" In spite of the _LCE News_ 's militant tone, by 1963 three mayoral candidates had purchased ads in it.\n\nIn 1962 bar owners and employees had formed the Tavern Guild, which retained a lawyer and bail bondsman for anyone arrested in or near a gay bar and coordinated the fight against California's Alcohol and Beverage Control Department (ABC). Soon SIR formed with a more open and democratic approach than that used by the LCE and California's Mattachine organization \"to create a community feeling that will bring a 'Homophile Movement' into being.\" Recognizing the social needs of gay men, SIR held not only dances and parties but also meditation groups and art classes. It ran a major education campaign on venereal disease with the support of the city's public health department and held voter registration drives. The Guild also published an attractive magazine, _Vector_ , which was sold on newsstands throughout the city. In 1965 the Guild began holding candidates nights each fall where political office seekers faced a gay audience that endorsed pro-gay candidates, including those who have since become leading figures in San Francisco and California politics: Willie Brown, John Burton, and Dianne Feinstein. So successful was SIR that in 1966 it opened the country's first gay community center. By 1967 it was the country's largest homophile organization.\n\nCritical to the success of organizations such as the LCE, SIR, and the Tavern Guild, however, was the Council on Religion and the Homosexual, or CRH, a coalition of homophile leaders and clergy, which, through providing the \"cloak of the cloth,\" as San Francisco historian Paul Gabriel has phrased it, lent an aura of credibility to these organizations.\n\nCRH had incorporated in 1964 and is especially known for the events that unfolded at one of its first undertakings, a New Year's Eve ball at California Hall to raise money for the homosexual community. When the ball was held, the San Francisco Police Department showed up in force and staked out California Hall with paddy wagons, huge klieg lights, movie cameras, and photographers. As guests entered the dance, the police filmed and photographed every one of the hundreds of attendees. Finally, the police, who had promised the clergy not to interfere, found a pretext to shut the dance down and arrested several persons who had helped organize the event. This only galvanized the ministers who had put on the affair, having learned firsthand that what they had been told about homosexuals being harassed and oppressed was not an exaggeration.\n\nWhile the story of California Hall is sometimes celebrated as \"San Francisco's Stonewall,\" the story of Vanguard and Compton's Cafeteria is a similarly compelling one and also has its roots in both CRH and the Glide Memorial Foundation. The Foundation had been started by the wealthy Lizzie Glide to fund a church in the Tenderloin, her vision being of a church that would serve sailors and itinerant workmen.\n\nBy the 1960s, San Francisco's Tenderloin had turned into a district very much on the down-and-out. Its cheap hotels and restaurants made it the section of town where runaway youths gravitated. There homeless gay youths sold themselves, as did transvestites and female prostitutes. Drugs were widely available, and it was a center for police corruption, as its very name suggested: The term _tenderloin_ was imported from New York, where it denoted a district so rich in graft that a police officer who worked there could afford to buy his family a choice cut of meat. As more and more families left the area around Glide for the suburbs, Glide Memorial Church, with its very large endowment, was left with a small and aging congregation. In the 1960s young people were attending church less often, and so churches began to reexamine what forms their ministries should take. In this progressive era, many churches responded to the drop in attendance by emphasizing social services. A number of denominations started inner city ministries to reach out to youths, helping poor youths deal with such problems as drugs, job training, and housing, almost always among black populations. Many of the ministers who did such work became interested in rethinking theology and in getting involved in protest movements.\n\nLouis Durham was sent from Nashville, the national education and training headquarters for the Methodist Church, to lead the effort to revive the dying Glide Memorial Church. After performing an evaluation, he hired three young ministers, the first being Ted McIlvenna, considered a rising star. He had had a personal vision, giving him the belief that in the twentieth century, and especially since the Second World War, a huge biblical revelation, like that found in the Old Testament books of prophets was happening. The vision that had been revealed to McElvena was of a coming into consciousness of the divinity of human sexuality. Ted saw his life's work as opening the world to this revelation. Constantly on the go, he met with everyone on the forefront of sexuality issues, from Kinsey to the leaders of the Mattachine Society.\n\nIn 1963, Ted began to work with young homosexuals in the Tenderloin, where he met a youth who had been castrated by an adult. McIlvenna was appalled, but seeing the disfigured adolescent made his commitment to gay youth total. As McIlvenna began to investigate the youths' situation, he realized that there were no services available for them: no overnight shelters or counseling or vocational services.\n\nTed McIlvenna then brought ministers Don Kuhn and Cecil Williams, the latter a black minister fresh from battling segregation in Kansas, to Glide in 1964. The work these men were doing in the Tenderloin was soon supplemented each year by a church intern who also did youth outreach work. Especially key was Ed Hanson, the youth intern from 1965 to 1966.\n\nAfter years of work, the Glide Foundation ministers were able to bring together members of the homophile movement and Tenderloin neighborhood activists to form the Central City Citizens Council (CCCC). The CCCC published the _Tenderloin Report_ , which documented the lack of education among those living in the Tenderloin, as well as the high poverty and the lack of social services and housing. The CCCC also fought for and won a portion of federal poverty program funds that had been designated for San Francisco.\n\nThe funds were used to create the Central City Poverty Program. And so the interns and the minister set about helping the street youth, the runaways, and the hustlers to organize themselves. Although the ministers hired by Glide had worked primarily with black and other ethnic minority populations, they believed that the approach used in those communities should work with a population of inner city youths who were mainly homosexual. The ministers had found that it was much more effective to hire someone from a disadvantaged group to organize that community to help itself rather than bringing in an outsider to do the same work.\n\nNeil Secor, the first intern to work with the Tenderloin youths, began by inviting them to meet weekly in his living room. The first sessions were almost like consciousness-raising sessions, meetings that served for heterosexuals and homosexuals to get to know, trust, and understand each other. Once they were able to work together, Secor got the youths to organize, and then they began to use Glide's offices. When Secor left and Hanson arrived, the youths were ready to formalize their organization as Vanguard.\n\nThe group of mostly gay youths chose the name of Vanguard by July of 1966 and elected one of their own, Jean-Paul Marat (a pseudonym), as Vanguard's president. An issue of _The Berkeley Barb_ , an underground newspaper, gives a thumbnail portrait of Marat as thin and pale, with wavy black hair, reddish cheeks, and thick, babyish lips. Vanguard soon started a magazine, called _V_ , which, like many underground newspapers of the time, featured original and compelling artwork, all done by Marat. The only requirement for membership in the group was that a person be \"a kid off the street.\" Vanguard embraced the belief of self-empowerment advocated by the Glide Foundation's young, idealistic ministers. The first known news article about the group quotes a member as saying, \"We believe we can take care of a large portion of our problems without the interference of the federal government, head shrinkers or older people, most of whom do not at all understand the problems of the kids.\"\n\nA flyer put out by the group describes their understanding of the problems facing them and how to solve them: \"We protest police harassment of youth in the area when the big time speculators seem to work openly and receive _no attention_.... We protest being called 'queer,' 'pillhead,' and being placed in the position of being outlaws and parasites when we are offered no alternatives to this existence.... We demand justice and immediate corrections of the fact that most of the money made in the area is made by the exploitation of youth by so-called normal adults who make a fast buck off situations everyone calls degenerate, perverted and sick.\"\n\nIt is remarkable that Vanguard had from its inception the militantly unapologetic tone that would characterize the gay liberation movement, which would not be born for another three years. _V_ is also remarkable for its common use of the more affirming _gay_ as opposed to _homosexual_ or _homophile_. Similar to the later Gay Liberation Front's (GLF's) emphasis on self-criticism, the youths showed a willingness to address not only society's shortcomings but their own as well.\n\nAn editorial on prejudice by Marat talked about the gay youths' difficulties in accepting one another: \"Day after day I hear complaints about the prejudice that the straight society has against the gay society. Let's look at our own prejudices. We ostracize people because they do this or that or the other in bed. We make snide comments about the drag queen who isn't quite convincing enough. The 'leather boys' are the butt of many jokes and much ridicule.... If we want society to accept us as we are, we are going to have to start accepting ourselves and others like us.\"\n\nBesides self-help articles, listings of organizations to go to for assistance, and articles on politics, _V_ also featured many articles written by the youths about their own experiences. One of the most poignant pieces is a poem titled \"The Hustler\" that was sent in anonymously and published under a photograph of an attractive young man with a resigned and sad expression:\n\nI sell my love for dollars,  \nIf you can spare the time,  \nA hug is but a nickel,  \nA kiss is but a dime.\n\nI'll go to bed for twenty,  \nAll night for just ten more.  \nNow don't get the idea  \nThat I am just a whore.\n\nFor if I didn't sell my love,  \nWhere else would it go?  \nI have no one to give it to;  \nNo one who'd care to know.\n\nSo open up your wallet  \nAnd show me what you've got.  \nAnd whether I should love you  \nA little or a lot.\n\nOne of the few hangouts available to the street youths in the Tenderloin was a branch of a local chain restaurant called Compton's, especially popular with gay youths, hustlers, and transvestites. According to Tamara Ching, \"It was just a place that we would come and hang out. If you didn't manage up a trick that night, it's where you would hang out with your friends. We'd stay there and then eat breakfast and go home and sleep until it was time to get up and go out on the prowl again.\" Crema Ritz even compared Compton's to \"a community center.\"\n\nHistorian Susan Stryker has found that the gay youth were tolerated at Compton's for years because the evening manager was an older effeminate homosexual. When he died suddenly in the spring of 1966 and new management came in, a decision was made to discourage the patronage of these poor customers who sat for long periods of time and ordered little food. The diner hired Pinkerton security guards to harass them, and invited the police inside for the same reason. The security guards insulted the gay and transvestite customers and manhandled those who did not drink their coffee fast enough. On July 18, the newly formed Vanguard organized a picket line at Compton's to protest the harassment and discrimination. Around twenty-five persons picketed in the evening, from ten o'clock until midnight.\n\nOn a hot night the following month, when a policeman grabbed the arm of a transvestite, she threw a cup of coffee in his face. As if on signal, other gay customers began throwing cups, saucers, and trays at the police and security guards. Compton's immediately closed, \"and with that, the gays began breaking out every window in the place.\" As other gay men ran outside to escape the breaking glass, the police tried to catch them and put them in patrol wagons, according to the only known written account of the disturbance. Those leaving Compton's fought hard, with gay men hitting the police in their groins and \"drag-queens smashing them in the face with their extremely heavy purses.\" One police car had all of its windows broken and a newspaper stand close to the restaurant was burned down as \"general havoc [was] raised that night in the Tenderloin.\" The following night, when the restaurant turned away transvestites, another picket line of \"drag-queens, hair fairies [West Coast equivalent of 'scare drag'], conservative Gays, and hustlers\" picketed the cafeteria. The conflict ended when the restaurant's newly installed windows were smashed a second time.\n\nGiven that the riot at Compton's occurred when the gay street youth of the Tenderloin were receiving significant support from Glide Memorial Church ministers, it is reasonable to conclude that the support these youths, who were regularly abused, received from Glide emboldened them to resist oppression by the police and security guards. No record exists of any resistance by gay or transgendered men on a similar scale prior to the event at Compton's. Susan Stryker, who has studied the history of services available to transgendered persons in San Francisco, offers an additional reason for the Compton's incident. Shortly before the disturbance, a doctor in the area became the first in the U.S. to offer sex-change reassignment surgery. Since his office was only five blocks from Compton's and since transgendered persons took a leading role in the disturbance, Stryker concludes that this new service may have played a role in triggering the riots: transgendered men, a highly despised minority within a minority, were being given hope for the first time ever and thus felt assertive enough to resist oppression. *\n\nCraig Rodwell circled around in the 100-degree heat for at least the twentieth time. There was nothing he could do about it being summer or the lack of shade. He had, after all, chosen this time and this place to protest. Having come all the way to Philadelphia for the Annual Reminder, he wasn't going to miss picketing. He wished, though, that he didn't have to wear a coat and tie. But Craig lost this argument every year. He and some others thought that the idea of a strict dress code for a picket demonstration was absurd. Still, others, particularly Frank Kameny, argued that since they were picketing to establish their right to employment, they must look employable. Maybe next year Rodwell could persuade his colleagues to loosen the rules controlling every aspect of their behavior as they picketed. Meanwhile, he just kept circling.\n\nWhen Arthur Evans had moved to Greenwich Village he began to read a lot of poetry, which changed his understanding of life: \"William Blake had a big impact on me, and I got very excited about Blake. His vision of the recovery of sex is related to the struggle against imperialism and industrialism and the machine: the reaching for the organic, getting down to sinewy nerves and muscles that go way back into history before the mind. And they're more than a machine.... It's the living pulse of the planet coming out.\"\n\nWalt Whitman inspired Evans with his celebration of the body electric and his vision of democracy: \"Whitman speaks of democracy as spiritual practice, something that you have to live and practice the way you would practice a musical instrument, with the same degree of passion and commitment. That sensibility, I think, is in Walt Whitman and it involves sex as well.\"\n\nWhen Evans chanced upon Allen Ginsberg's work, he recognized a kindred spirit to his beloved Whitman: \"Ginsberg has influenced my basic perceptions of things more so than any other living thinker, but it's hard to put it into conceptual words because it's more than that. It affects feelings as well. I was electrified by his poetry. First of all because I thought it was very powerful poetry, and secondly because I thought he was drawing on things that were very important to me. The Vietnam War was not just a conflict. It was saying something significant about American history and it was saying something important about human spirituality. Where did the Vietnam War come from? It came from America's spiritual history and from its sexual history. These things\u2014sex, politics, history, personal life\u2014all these things are interconnected, and Allen Ginsberg, as I saw it, was articulating this vision, expressing these connections between things.\"\n\nFor Evans, as for so many others of his generation, the national conflict over the Vietnam War did much to define him. In 1967 he had enrolled in Columbia University's doctoral program in philosophy. Evans loved philosophy and no doubt in quieter times would have completed his Ph.D. in several years, but Columbia University was, like many others, roiled by the decade's political upheavals. Columbia had claimed it was not supporting the war in Vietnam, but the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) did research that proved that Columbia was lying, which was one of the reasons for the uprisings there.\n\nDuring the student occupation of the campus in May of 1968, Grayson Kirk, the university's president, chose the middle of the night to call in the police, who beat hundreds of students and faculty members. Although Evans did not happen to be present when the police violence occurred, the next day he saw lots of professors and students going around campus with bandages on their heads, a sight that changed Evans: \"That was a radicalizing experience. At that point I realized the administration of this university is the enemy. They're part of the military-industrial complex. These people are not supporters of learning. They are not my friends.\"\n\nIn August Arthur went to Chicago to protest the war in Vietnam at the Democratic Convention. Many thousands of protesters were heading to the Windy City, for it seemed certain that Lyndon Johnson's vice president, Hubert Humphrey, would get the Democratic Party's nomination to be president although antiwar candidate Senator Eugene McCarthy had won more votes in the primaries than Humphrey had. Mayor Richard Daley, the quintessential machine party politician, was determined to prevent the protesters from demonstrating.\n\nIn the weeks before the convention Allen Ginsberg had had an increasingly bad feeling about how things would turn out in Chicago. He had been one of those who had suggested holding the Festival of Life in Chicago as a counterexample to Democratic Party machine politics, and still felt that he should attend in hopes of minimizing the violence that seemed likely. He and longtime colleague Ed Sanders held exercises in Chicago to train protesters in breathing and chanting techniques that if\u2014and only if, Ginsberg well knew\u2014practiced by a large portion of a crowd could help maintain calm when violence and confusion threatened to erupt. Ginsberg also paid attention to more mundane matters, such as meeting with city officials to try to get a permit for a sound system so that those trying to maintain calm could communicate with those protesting.\n\nAs Evans took part in a protest in one of Chicago's parks and was attacked by the police, he noted the event's surreal quality. Simultaneous with the ground attack, he saw tear gas canisters flying through the air with gas beginning to emerge from them even as he heard Ginsberg chanting the Hindu mantra \"Om.\"\n\nEvans found that Ginsberg's chanting \"gave it a sense of significance, that this wasn't just a bunch of people running around. Very important values were at stake here, about meaning and life and our proper role in history and how to deal with violence. All these issues were hanging in the air, and he sort of put that into context by that very simple gesture. These demonstrations were a meditative act, and we were crossing the boundary between politics and spirituality.\"\n\nIn 1968 at the Stonewall Inn one night, Danny Garvin met a man named Craig who invited him to visit him in the gay commune where he lived at the corner of Bleecker Street and Sixth Avenue. This commune, having no grand overarching vision or structure, was rather nonchalant, mainly a place where young gay men and their friends lived and hung out while enjoying hippie culture.\n\nYet the commune was not simply a gay male crash pad. Its members discussed and debated the great issues of the day such as the war in Vietnam, women's rights, consciousness-raising, and the legalization of marijuana. Their standard reading material was the local alternative publications, _The Village Voice_ and the _East Village Other_. Members and their friends listened to albums by the favorite musicians of the day, such as the Beatles, Buffy Sainte-Marie, and the Jefferson Airplane. At other times, a friend might drop by with a guitar and everyone would sit around singing popular songs as they shared bottles of wine.\n\nDanny remembers the end of the sixties as a time of rapid changes: \"All of a sudden men were growing longer sideburns. It was happening throughout society, but it was happening in the gay community a little bit quicker. Gay men all of a sudden would wear bell-bottoms. Clothes became unisex. Men wore hip-huggers. Jewelry became somewhat unisexual, too, because you had men and women wearing love beads and chains and bells.\" When Danny went wearing a bell to meet Frank, the man he had first danced with, Frank began to lose interest. \"You're not becoming one of those, are you?\" he asked.\n\nRemarkably, although the members of the commune had debated the war in Vietnam and the oppression of women they had never discussed the meaning of being gay, even though they lived in a gay commune. Danny recalls that even at that time he figured that he would eventually \"settle down with a woman.\" Garvin attributes the lack of such political awareness among his gay hippie friends to just how oppressive the situation was for homosexuals. Garvin recalls a practice, common at the time, called dropping dimes, in which one gay man betrays another by calling his parents and telling them that their son is gay. \"I knew gay men, usually in their later twenties or early thirties, who eventually got married and would just all of a sudden step out of gay life.\" The generation gap also affected gay men: the older gay men in suits and ties presented an image rejected by young gay hippies in the Village.\n\nGay men suffered from self-hatred as well. While pop and rock music celebrated (hetero)sexuality with joy and abandon, gay men still gathered in bars to listen to \"The Ballad of the Sad Young Men,\" a song that portrayed gay life as morbidly as its title suggests. They also threw acidic lines from Edward Albee's _Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?_ at one another and often quoted the depressing line \"Show me a happy homosexual and I'll show you a gay corpse\" from an Off Broadway play of the period, _The Boys in the Band_. Danny recalls that \"gay life didn't seem a very positive thing to grow old into.\"\n\nThe Stonewall Inn had modified its decor in response to the changing times, though only in the front room. Black lights were added to the dance floor in the first room and a light show was installed behind the bar: lights underneath lit up dark and light squares in a checkerboard pattern. But the main innovation was go-go boys who danced on weekends in gilded cages at each end of the bar. As they danced in paisley or silver or gold lam\u00e9 swimsuits or bikini underwear, light projections swam over their nude bodies. Their cages were perched on top of rickety platforms behind the bar where customers could see but not reach them.\n\nAccording to a number of witnesses, though not all, the clientele at the Stonewall Inn had changed with the passage of time as well. Edmund White felt that the patrons included more blacks and Latinos and that drugs had become much more popular at the club. Two persons interviewed by Tina Crosby in the early seventies told her that \"by 1969 it was getting a 'burnt-out feeling' and was past the height of its popularity.\" However, most persons from the era recall few, if any, changes in clientele over the years. The _1969 New York City Gay Scene Guide_ , published by the Mattachine Society, wrote: \"It continues operating amid persistent rumors of closing. Observers note that 'go-go boys'... have failed to attract the dwindling crowds.\" But maybe this was wishful thinking on the Mattachine's part. After all, Rodwell had written practically the same thing a year before in the June\u2013July 1968 issue of the _Hymnal_ : \"The Stone Wall... is still in operation, unfortunately. Hoping to save their declining business, the Mafia management instituted 'go-go boys' on platforms.\"\n\nAs the decade approached its end\u2014and especially in 1969\u2014the subject of homosexuality was more and more in the air, whether in the context of the arts or political events or merely as a topic of conversation. To give but several examples, in mid-July of 1968 _The Wall Street Journal_ published a lead front-page article that noted the growing militancy among homosexuals who were fighting for \"a piece of the action\" in America. The response to the article was so strong that a later issue devoted an entire \"Letters to the Editor\" column to correspondence about the article. Craig Rodwell highlighted the article in the _Hymnal_ , noting: \"It is said that _The Wall Street Journal_ is six months ahead of society in indicating trends.\" In mid-1968, Criswell, the television psychic, appearing as a guest on the _Tonight_ show, predicted that within several years exclusively homosexual communities would spring up throughout the country. Whereas in 1962 Randy Wicker had made a splash in the media by going on the radio as an openly gay man, before 1968 ended, a group of gay men in New York City that included Bill Weaver and Charles Pitts began broadcasting on WBAI a weekly program on homosexuality called _The New Symposium_ , \"with the aim of inspiring a sense of social identification within our subculture.\" Every member of the program staff appeared under his own name.\n\nIn January 1969, _Time_ magazine published the first cover story by a national magazine on homosexuality, and _Hair_ , whose lyrics contained several positive homosexual references, became the bestselling record album of the year.\n\nGay folk even took the number of the year as a hopeful symbol, sixty-nine long having been a code word for homosexuality, based on reading the numbers as a depiction of a gay couple engaging in mutual oral sex.\n\nEven _Hair_ 's most popular song, which proclaimed \"the dawning of the age of Aquarius\" as an age of \"harmony and understanding,\" has as its source, no matter how few were aware of it, a myth that celebrated homosexual love. The age of Aquarius is named for the Greek server at the banquet of the gods who bears liquid refreshment to the deities, whence his popular astrological designation as the Water Bearer. But the story of Aquarius is that of Ganymede, who, in Greek mythology, was the most beautiful youth on earth. His beauty was so enchanting that even Zeus himself could not resist his charms, and the supreme god of the Greeks, taking the form of an eagle, flew down to earth, seized him, and transported him back to Olympus. After this \"rape,\" Ganymede served the Greek deities when they dined, while Hera, Zeus's consort, grew jealous as Zeus paid more attention to the beautiful youth than to her. But being a mortal, Ganymede did eventually die. Zeus's love for the youth was so great, however, that rather than let him go the way of all flesh, he bestowed immortality upon Ganymede by transforming him into the constellation known as Aquarius.\n\nEarl Galvin recalled how when the calendar turned to 1969, gay men began to say to one another, \"Maybe this will be our year.\" The _New York Mattachine Newletter_ 's gossip columnist, D.D., noted that according to Chinese astrology, in which each year is associated with an animal, 1969 was the year of the rooster, which pleased D.D., who saltily commented that a \"year of the cock\" sounded appealing. If the world was on the threshold of entering an age named to celebrate same-sex love, the coinciding of a rooster year could be portentous, for according to the Chinese astrological system, a rooster year is one in which \"politically and domestically, the downtrodden make their voices heard, the aggrieved or tyrannized will stand up for themselves, and bullies will now get their due comeuppance.\"\n\nIn New York City, apart from steady progress on court rulings that continually ate away at the SLA's ability to revoke or withhold liquor licenses from gay bars, there were few indications of progress. For example, although the New York Police Department had ceased entrapping homosexual men, the Transit Police, who were not controlled by the mayor's office, continued the practice. Then an off-duty Transit cop, Colin Kelly, killed a gay man, John Allison, and another gay man who was with him at the trucks near the waterfront. The circumstances of the killings and subsequent police conduct caused the Mattachine Society to suspect that the men had been murdered. The February _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ reported that two Transit cops, after having arrested three men in a washroom, emptied out their wallets. When one of the men protested, the cop asked him how he would like to be carried out of the washroom with a \"shiv\" in his body. (A shiv is the crude but deadly handmade knife prisoners fashion.) The same newsletter recounted how another Mattachine member had stopped at 1:15 in the morning to talk with some friends near the Stonewall Inn. When two police officers came along and told everyone to leave, he refused to comply, pointing out that the group was neither loud nor obstructing traffic, whereupon he was handcuffed and taken to jail.\n\nJust as the Transit cop who had shot and killed two gay men at the trucks seemed about to go free, there was violence and extortion at the waterfront. Trucking firms and pier owners had hired private policemen to protect their property and vehicles from being damaged by the gay men who used them for sex, but some of the private detectives shook down the gay men. Mattachine\u2013New York tried to alert others to the dangers of pickpockets, muggers, and blackmailers: \"The area has become a mecca for up-tight hoodlums looking for a 'queer' to beat up. One of their favorite games is to shove a homosexual into the cesspool known as the Hudson River. [...] At least four people have drowned in the filth after hitting their heads on pier footings.\" Another man who had performed sex on \"an evidently willing partner\" was beaten so badly afterward that he lost an eye. Urging gay men to stay away from the trucks to avoid physical danger as well as the chance of arrest, the Mattachine Society suggested the baths as an alternative for those compelled to seek out anonymous sex.\n\nIronically, after Mattachine\u2013New York had urged gay men who felt a need for anonymity to seek it in the baths rather than on the waterfront, the next issue of the organization's newsletter carried the lead headline \"Bathhouse Raided.\" The Continental Baths, where Bette Midler would be discovered a few years later, was already becoming a fixture of New York City's gay scene. On February 20 it was raided by the police and twenty-two men were arrested. Before the police left, they wrecked the bathhouse. The bathhouse owners said that the raid had happened because they had refused to pay off the police. The newsletter also reported that Colin Kelly had been absolved of any guilt in the killing of the gay men on the waterfront.\n\nOn the West Coast, militancy was increasing far beyond that displayed in previous years by SIR and the Tavern Guild. Leo Laurence, a thirty-six-year-old reporter for San Francisco's KGO radio, had covered the protests at the 1968 Democratic convention. Witnessing young antiwar protesters putting their bodies on the line had made him a radical. Laurence began writing for both _The Berkeley Barb_ , an underground newspaper, and SIR's _Vector_. Early in 1969 Laurence was elected by SIR's membership to edit _Vector_ , and he wrote at the time that \"this is the beginning of a new revolution in San Francisco, the Homosexual Revolution of 1969. When the black man became proud, he became more militant. That same power is starting to hit the homosexual movement in the Bay Area.\" Laurence called for gay people to form coalitions with other militant and radical groups such as the Black Panthers and the antiwar movement.\n\nBecause Laurence believed it was important to be honest about one's sexuality, he had a picture of himself and his lover, Gale Whittington, with the latter shirtless and Laurence embracing him, published in the _Barb_. Gale, who worked as an accounting clerk at the States Steamship Line, was immediately fired from his job. Laurence soon lost his position as editor of _Vector_ as well after he characterized West Coast homosexual organization leaders as \"timid... middle-aged up-tight conservatives.\" The article was titled \"Gay Revolution\" and Laurence complained that such leaders were \"hurting almost every major homosexual organization on the West Coast and probably throughout the nation.\" While they loved to say, \"Gay is good,\" at gay meetings, Laurence complained, they were afraid to say it in public, which to him only made them so many hypocrites. \"About the only people with that kind of courage are the new breed of young gay kids. And that's just why organizations like SIR keep them out. The old-timers are scared that these kids will come in and really create a gay revolution.\"\n\nFired from his editorship position and thrown out of SIR, Laurence started a new organization called the Committee for Homosexual Freedom (CHF). Far from being intimidated by what he had experienced, Laurence kept up the attack. \"We are organizing a campaign that will show the State Lines, or any other employer, that they don't indiscriminately fire homosexuals who are good employees and get away with it.... The social revolution that is sweeping the country has given new pride to the Blacks and is now giving fire to the homosexuals,\" Laurence predicted in the _Barb_ 's pages. After demanding that State Lines rehire Gale, he said: \"If they don't, militant homosexuals will show that company what Gay Power really means.\" He finished with a prediction: \"The public has a big surprise coming this year if they think they can push homosexuals around and get away with it.\" Laurence appealed for help: CHF needed people to make signs and posters as well as to demonstrate.\n\nSoon dozens of homosexuals under twenty-five were showing up to help, as well as heterosexuals. It was decided to mount a picket line in front of the State Lines' offices in San Francisco's financial district. The picket demonstration would be held every weekday starting at noon for one hour. On the first day of the picket line over fifty people demonstrated.\n\nState Lines refused even to meet with CHF to discuss their demands. The picket line grew and soon a young minister from Los Angeles by the name of Troy Perry was trying to organize support from that city. Only six months prior Perry had held the first service for a church he was forming in Los Angeles for homosexuals. Spirits remained high on the picket line, as freedom songs rang out, more office workers came to join in, and blacks driving by raised their fists in solidarity. One man organized a phone-in, urging supporters to call States Lines every day and ask for a different department. Michael Cooke, a twenty-nine-year-old who had been thrown out of the University of Texas in 1961 for making a speech about homosexuality, said, \"Fear and intimidation have ruled the gay world for two thousand years. The only legacy this has brought me is the feeling I have precious little to lose. The time is ripe for some militancy.\" Just how much the social and political upheavals of the previous few years had prompted the protest at State Lines was shown not only by Laurence's own experiences in Chicago but also by the presence on the picket lines of gay people who had participated in antidraft groups, the Stanford Sit-In, and a strike at San Francisco State College, as well as other veterans of the bloody events of 1968 Chicago.\n\nAs the State Lines picket demonstration gained momentum, a gay man died after he was shot in the head by a plainclothes police officer who had tried to entrap him in a Berkeley park. When the district attorney indicated that no inquest was necessary, Larry Littlejohn, SIR's president, said, \"It looks like an official coverup.\" A mock funeral motorcade was organized from Glide Methodist Church to the Berkeley Hall of Justice to protest the killing, as the CHF picket line grew grim... and spread to Los Angeles, where Troy Perry led fifteen marchers (mostly young gay men and a number of heterosexual theology students) who attracted a crowd of two hundred onlookers. Reverend Perry observed that with so many onlookers, \"amazed at the courage of our people,\" the picket demonstration \"was the biggest thing in downtown L.A.\"\n\nWhen a Tower Records store in San Francisco fired a clerk, Frank Denaro, on the mere suspicion that he was homosexual, CHF launched a weekend picket at the store specifically geared to stop customers from going inside. The tactic proved effective, as a large number of customers stopped at the picket line, then climbed back inside their cars and drove away.\n\nIn May, a young leftist in San Francisco named Carl Wittman took note of all the militant actions occurring in the city and sat down to write about the events' implications. Before a year had passed, the essay, eventually titled \"A Gay Manifesto,\" would become one of the defining documents of the gay liberation movement. In it Wittman wrote:\n\nSan Francisco is a refugee camp of homosexuals. We have fled here from every part of the nation, and like refugees elsewhere, we came not because it is so great here, but because it was so bad there....\n\nAnd we have formed a ghetto, out of self-protection. It is a ghetto rather than a free territory because it is still theirs. Straight cops patrol us, straight legislators govern us, straight employers keep us in line, straight money exploits us. We have pretended that everything is OK, because we haven't been able to see how to change it\u2014we've been afraid.\n\nIn the past year there has been an awakening of gay liberation ideas and energy. How it began we don't know; maybe we were inspired by black people and their freedom movement; we learned how to stop pretending from the hip revolution....\n\nWhere once there was frustration, alienation, and cynicism, there are new characteristics among us. We are full of love for each other and are showing it; we are full of anger at what has been done to us. And as we recall all the self-censorship and repression for so many years, a reservoir of tears pours out of our eyes. And we are euphoric, high, with the initial flourish of a movement.\n\nIn New York City, the month of May found Mayor Lindsay facing a tough reelection battle. Running against Lindsay for the Republican Party nomination was state legislator John J. Marchi, whom Mattachine\u2013New York described as \"one of the bitterest opponents of homosexual law reform.\" The Democratic candidates were not generally progressive, and some of the better-known candidates included Robert Wagner, whose dismal record regarding homosexuals was only too well known, and Mario Procaccino, who was such a \"law and order\" candidate that even his fellow Democrats considered him repressive.\n\nOn June 17, Lindsay lost his own party's primary to Marchi. The race was thrown into a confused frenzy as Lindsay realigned himself and sought to save his political life by running a fusion campaign, with his name appearing on both the Liberal and Independent parties' lines. Mattachine\u2013New York reported that Marchi's victory speech was \"a panegyric to 'old values' of cleanliness and godliness,\" with much of it sounding like \"a veiled warning to the sexually unorthodox, the minority groups, the people who don't abide by the 'old morality,' and others, to run for the hills.\" Procaccino then tried \"to out-reactionary Marchi\" and succeeded to such an extent that \"he alarmed even former Mayor Wagner.\" In this context, as a growing number of bar raids took place, New York's gay population wondered if it was not seeing a return to the bad old days they had always lived through at election time.\n\nWhat came to be called the counterculture had many manifestations, from communes, to alternative foods, to underground newspapers. One of its characteristic innovations was the alternative schools that sprang up all across America. These organizations were usually free or low-priced and very modest in scope. One of the best-known in New York City was Alternate U., a free school and organizing center founded around 1966 by Tom Wodetski. Located on the Village's northern edge at the corner of 14th Street and Sixth Avenue, its several classrooms and one office inhabited a former dance studio on the corner building's second floor. The school emphasized action, not academics, and encouraged its students to take the skills and ideas they had learned\u2014whether in a class in Marxist theory taught by Stanley Aronowitz or in community organizing by Flo Kennedy\u2014out into the world in order to change it. Although freewheeling, Alternate U. did have a board.\n\nIn early 1969, John O'Brien volunteered at Alternate U. and was soon asked to join the board. He accepted the invitation in spite of being preoccupied with sorting out his feelings about being gay. His sexuality predominated his thoughts, for he had recently been thrown out of the Young Socialists Alliance (YSA), the youth group of the Marxist Socialist Workers Party (SWP), because he was gay.\n\nHe remembered how on his birthday in January 1969 he had been brought in for questioning by the organizers of the New York chapters of the YSA and the SWP. He could tell that they were reluctant to believe that he was homosexual: not only was he a hard-working party member, but his very masculine demeanor\u2014including a very muscular physique\u2014did not fit the gay stereotype. He also knew he could deny the accusation and they would believe him and the matter would be forgotten. But for O'Brien this was the moment of truth. He decided not to compromise his integrity and was summarily thrown out.\n\nThis expulsion upset him, for he had devoted his life since his early teen years to progressive and revolutionary causes. No one in the New Left could doubt his dedication: he had been demonstrating and fighting the police in the streets since his youth, when he had sneaked away from home to demonstrate for black civil rights in Alabama and returned with his hand scarred by a police dog. During the student occupation of Columbia University the SDS had put him in charge of security for one of the occupied buildings. O'Brien often pulled these sorts of dangerous assignments not only because of his muscles, but also because growing up in Spanish Harlem had made him tough.\n\nO'Brien had not served on Alternate U.'s board long when he met a young man by the name of Bill Katzenberg. Bill also belonged to the SDS and had been referred to John by Alternate U. after showing up there saying he wanted to start a gay radical group. But starting a gay anything was about the last thing O'Brien wanted to consider given his previous experiences with gay groups: He had tried to join the picket line at one of the Annual Reminders and had not been allowed to because his clothing did not fit the dress code. A gay student group at Columbia University, the nation's first, had picketed outside one of the buildings there during the student occupation. O'Brien had joyously joined them, but the students had ignored him. Perhaps they had suspected him of being a spy or a provocateur because he didn't look gay. Sex was the only gay thing that seemed to work for O'Brien.\n\nKatzenberg struck O'Brien as being both highly motivated and sincere. He told O'Brien that he wanted to organize radical gay people into a group and that he wanted the group to do more than just complain: it should be a group geared toward action. O'Brien was tempted but decided not to join. He would lend his name to help sponsor the group at Alternate U., and he would help them find a place to meet. Other than that, Katzenberg would have to sink or swim on his own.\n\nBut Katzenberg continued to come to Alternate U. to talk to O'Brien and finally managed to convince him to join the new group. A turning point came when Katzenberg introduced O'Brien to Jerry Hoose, who was very much a part of the sex scene at the trucks and the cruising scene on Christopher Street. Hoose, O'Brien recalls, seemed to know everyone who hung out on Christopher Street. According to O'Brien, in the spring or summer of 1969 Hoose supported the idea of a new group and introduced him and Katzenberg to other people on the street with whom they talked about gay oppression.\n\nOne of the men Katzenberg conversed with was a lithe and handsome young carpenter from Brooklyn by the name of Marty Robinson, who had no shyness about being gay. When his prominent parents had offered him a trip to Europe if he would renounce his homosexuality, he had not thought twice before turning them down. His \"natural aggressiveness\" had caused Katzenberg to approach him about creating a \"new butch image for male homosexuals.\" But Marty had already experimented with the extremes of acting \"ultrabutch\" as well as \"a little screaming and camping\" before going back to just being himself. He turned down Katzenberg's proposal to start a group called the Pink Panthers, because \"[t]he whole idea was a big turn-off to me. There's nothing worse than to try to be a 1950's butch!\"\n\nO'Brien recalls, \"We had a number of discussions, most of them actually standing on street corners on Christopher Street, mostly on the northwest corner of Bleeker. We'd stand there, sometimes on the stoops a little further down, sometimes in the Silver Dollar Restaurant, which was a big hangout for us. We met there. We started, the three of us, then were able to recruit a couple more people, becoming like five people, and we agreed on putting an ad in the paper and finally having a meeting.\" When _The Village Voice_ refused the ad, O'Brien and Katzenberg went to the SDS-affiliated newspaper _Rat_ , which accepted the small classified ad, which announced: \"A group of young radical homosexuals will meet... to develop a critique of heterosexual supremacy, both in society and within the Movement.\"\n\nMattachine\u2013New York's June newsletter brought plenty of bad news for its readers. The body of a man, killed by strangulation, had been pulled out of the Hudson, appearing to be yet another \"dock scene\" victim. In the previous month and a half, three men, apparently gay, had been robbed and murdered on Manhattan's East Side. In May a new gay private club had opened in the East Fifties without any licenses. When the police raided it and arrested the management, the police were well within the law, but they then illegally arrested every customer and charged them with \"disorderly conduct.\" The police also issued a warning: in the future they intended to arrest any person they found in an unlicensed club. Even D.D.'s gossip column had bad news: the police were unusually active in the public parks and the Hilton Hotel was \"hot with private dicks.\"\n\nIn light of so much bad news, the newsletter's lead story\u2014that the New York City's Civil Service Commission (CSC) had grudgingly, after fighting for two years in court, agreed that homosexuality was not an \"absolute disqualification\" for holding city jobs\u2014offered little reason for celebrating. All the more since although this ruling only affected hiring by New York City itself, there were still a number of exceptions to the new policy. The Welfare Department was exempt from this ruling, and the CSC itself quickly pointed out that \"it would probably refuse to hire a homosexual as a policeman or fireman.\" The CSC spokesman then added, \"An admitted homosexual, when the acts are frequent and recent, would probably not be qualified to be a guard in city penitentiaries, a children's counselor, or a playground attendant.\"\n\nAs the newsletter reported that Canada was in the process of legalizing homosexual sex and that West Germany's new laws making gay sex legal would probably take effect by Labor Day, it informed New Yorkers that both _The Village Voice_ and _The New York Times_ had refused to accept ads for _The Homosexual Handbook_ , which had just sold out its second printing of 50,000 copies. While New York's homosexuals read of how U.S. allies, including Canada, were legalizing homosexual sex, they themselves were being fired, blackmailed, beaten, knifed, shot, strangled, thrown into the Hudson, and killed. Meanwhile, the most liberal city government in a decade couldn't bring itself, even after a two-year court battle, to think homosexuals fit to fight fires or work in penitentiaries, and two of the city's most liberal publications would not even run an ad for a book about homosexuality.\n\nToward the end of June word spread through New York's gay community of vigilantism in Queens. A number of homosexual men had found a convenient trysting spot in Kew Gardens, a public park. When men in the neighborhood took umbrage and decided they needed \"to protect their wives and children\" (even though none were ever in the park in the middle of the night), they formed a vigilante committee to harass the men who went there. Using walkie-talkies to coordinate their efforts, a group of as many as forty men would patrol the park, where they surrounded and confronted gay men, shining bright lights in their faces and ordering them to leave. But gay men were not so easily cowed by the decade's end and some refused, asserting their legal right to be on public land. Neighborhood youths also took to going to the park and beating and robbing the homosexuals they found there. When gay men still showed up, the vigilantes got saws and axes and, a night or two after Lindsay lost the primary, chopped down the park's trees. When a concerned citizen saw the mayhem going on, he admonished one of the vigilantes who swung an ax at him. When the man reported the attempted violence to the police, they did nothing to stop the cutting. Other citizens reported the trees' destruction, only to see police cars drive up, and an officer get out and chat with the vigilantes, then leave without taking any action.\n\nIn Greenwich Village, there was no lack of police action at the end of June, as five gay bars were raided over three weeks. Three of the five bars raided were among the most popular gay spots in town, and several bars\u2014the Checkerboard, the Tel-Star, and the Sewer\u2014were closed for good.\n\nIn April _The Advocate_ had announced the appearance of a new gay publication called _Queen's Quarterly_. Started by friends of Craig Rodwell's, the magazine had a philosophy of gay pride and empowerment that practically jumped off the magazine's pages at the reader, starting with its attractive art direction and continuing on through its editorials to articles about gay sexuality that were both frank and positive. The magazine's tenor even prompted heterosexual _Village Voice_ reporter Howard Smith to refer to its readers as \"healthy homosexuals.\"\n\nThe magazine's third issue, which came out in the summer, featured a black-and-white photograph of a beautiful youth made by the famed early-twentieth-century homosexual photographer, the Baron von Gloeden. The photograph of the Sicilian youth was surrounded by yellow and purple pansies as if to accentuate the youth's beauty while subversively standing on its head the use of the flower's name to denigrate gay men. The summer issue featured a fashion spread on sunglasses, a discussion of wine, an article on sadomasochism, an interview with transvestite actress Mario Montez, vacation tips, and an article on how to make a gay marriage last, as well as an article on how to defend oneself if attacked. The article on self-defense included photographs of a nude man with the most vulnerable parts of the anatomy labeled, from the testicles, to the Adam's apple, to the bridge of the nose, and advised that if the reader had \"the time, inclination, and dough, by all means\u2014learn Karate and Judo.\"\n\nThe lead editorial, titled \"Dawn Is Just Breaking..., \" announced:\n\nQQ wants to... present a total picture of gay life\u2014but we're happy being ourselves.... [W]e cannot be something we are not.hellip; We must be ourselves.... Our message is simple: Stop apologizing for yourself... face the facts and accept yourself as you are... there is a real place for us in this world... be proud and excited about being gay\u2014we have earned our place in society and it must now learn its lesson that we are here to stay and that our voice is loud and strong. Dawn is just breaking for gay guys... this is the age of the gay renaissance.\n\nBy the end of June 1969, Pine's and Smythe's campaign to close down Mafia gay bars in the Village had been in full swing for some time. On Tuesday, June 24, Seymour Pine led a raid on the Stonewall Inn, arresting bar personnel and confiscating the bar's liquor. There was a lot of resentment about this raid on the part of gay men in the Village who complained about it over the following nights. Ronnie Di Brienza, a twenty-six-year-old musician, who apparently was inside the Stonewall Inn during the Tuesday night raid, described his feelings and thoughts about the event:\n\nI have had a lot of shit thrown my way, but... I was basically a pacifist. However... how many times can one turn the other cheek?...\n\nBasically, I am not gay, but I am not straight either...\n\nThe establishment and their elite Gestapo, the pigs, have been running things too long. First you had the Negro riots a few years back, which woke up white cats like myself to the fact that, though I am white, I am just as much considered a nigger as the black man is. From those early battles came the more intense militant organizations who, like myself, are sick and tired of being niggers, and want to become real and human. We have reached the bottom of the oppressed minority barrel... gay people... too, have turned the other cheek once too often.\n\nDi Brienza summed up the mood in the Village after the Tuesday raid by saying: \"Predominantly the theme was 'this shit has got to stop!'\"\n\nAs Pine prepared to leave the Stonewall Inn at the evening's end one of the bar's owners sneered, \"If you want to make a bust, that's your business. We'll be open again tomorrow.\"\n\nThe words stung Pine, in part because he knew they were true. But they also sounded to him like a challenge. He would be back.\n\n*This account of the history of Vanguard, the Council on Religion and the Homosexual, and the Compton's revolt is based upon unpublished research by Paul Gabriel and Susan Stryker.\n\n# T H E\n\n# S T O N E W A L L\n\n# R I O T S\n\n#\n\n# _A Friday Night Out_\n\n\"Steve\" Ritter felt on top of the world as he began the day on Friday, June 27. Not only was it his birthday, but he turned eighteen that day, so he knew when he woke up that legally he had reached adulthood: he still couldn't vote, but he could be drafted, and he could drink. Other major social and personal milestones marked this legal coming-of-age: he would graduate from high school in three days; he had found a lover, a muscle builder who wanted Steve to move in with him so they could live as \"man and wife\"; and later that same night Steve was starting a job as a waiter at the Tenth of Always. It didn't bother Steve much that he'd be working in an after-hours place, for he was about to begin his first full-time job, and one at which he could dress in the women's clothes he felt at home in. Besides, the muscle builder had even promised to pay for the expensive process of going through sex reassignment surgery, which meant that Steve would no longer have to hide who he was.\n\nBut tonight he was going to have the big blowout he'd been planning for the entire past week with Kiki, his cross-dressing hairstylist friend: they would both go out \"dressed\" that night to the Stonewall Inn to celebrate Steve's coming of age. Steve had been to the Stonewall and had always gotten in using phony ID, but he had registered for the draft weeks before as required by law so that on the day he turned eighteen he could begin to carry his draft card as required. Tonight he would impress the doormen at the Stonewall by showing them some real ID.\n\nSteve spent the better part of the day getting everything he would need to dress at Kiki's ready. He went to his mother's closet and surveyed her outfits. Luckily for Steve, his mother was a full-figured woman, making it possible for him to fit into her clothes. He selected a really nice empire-waisted black-and-white cocktail dress. Almost sleeveless, the high-waisted dress had a V-shaped back that came down to the middle of his spine and featured a more modest V-shape in the front, while the garment's hem stopped several inches above the knee. All in all, the outfit combined a sophisticated look with sexiness, making it the perfect choice for the evening.\n\nSteve took the dress to his bedroom, where he already had a pair of shoes borrowed from a friend: strapless black shoes with four-inch heels. In addition to the shoes and dress, Steve had assembled a pair of black stockings, some Cover Girl makeup that he had bought for himself, and other makeup he had stolen from his mother. Steve had longish hair, which would help it blend in with the fall he had purchased. He also had a large pocketbook, so that he could roll up a pair of \"boy's clothes\" and hide them there in case he needed to change in a park on the way home.\n\nSteve arrived at Kiki's house in Brooklyn Heights in the late afternoon. They had decided to meet and dress here, since Kiki's neighborhood was a bit more tolerant than Steve's.\n\nAfter exchanging greetings, the two friends began the pleasurable task of slowly transforming themselves into the women they felt themselves to be. For Steve the evening at Kiki's was one of simple fun and innocent self-indulgence: \"I just spent time making up. It would take us hours, and at that time we painted for the gods: it would take us three or four hours to make up.\" However, the preparations were not lengthy simply because of the infinite care the boys took in applying their makeup: \"We spent a whole lot of time kiki'ing around\u2014fooling around. You'd get your hair set. We'd sit around slinging a few cocktails. I was drinking gin and tonic, then vodka and orange juice. We were slamming them back as we were getting dressed.\"\n\nHours later, having completed the transformation that left her male identity as Steve behind, \"Maria\" picked up her pocketbook and walked out the door with Kiki when the car service they had ordered arrived. Maria remembers, \"I was nervous. People would say I was a drag queen, but I always felt like a woman, so this was more natural dress than I'd usually be in.\" But nervousness was not the dominant emotion Maria was feeling that night as the car sped toward Manhattan. \"I felt like I had finally come of age and that I was growing up. I was going to be able to finally live the life I wanted to live. There was an exhilaration because I was growing up and finally getting some freedom.\"\n\nAs Friday evening came to a close, Deputy Inspector Seymour Pine was also feeling pretty good. He had seen to it that the evening's raid on the Stonewall Inn packed some extra punch. He was tired of busting these Mafia clubs only to see them reopen the following day. And now the Mafia managers had thrown a challenge in his face, one that still stung. Well, he would bust them good this time. It may not be a stake through the heart, but he'd bet it would take the Stonewall more than twenty-four hours to reopen with its bars sliced into pieces and hauled out the door. He already had the search warrant that Kenneth Convoy, the district attorney assigned to Public Morals, had gotten Judge Schawn to issue the day before, authorizing Pine to search the premises, seize alcohol, and have the bars cut up and removed along with the Stonewall's vending equipment.\n\nPine had taken the unusual step of getting a warrant to prevent one of the Mafia's lawyers from attempting to use the lack of one as a technicality to have charges against the Stonewall Inn dismissed. He had also asked the city to send an inspector from the Department of Consumer Affairs, which they had promised to do. Having a city inspector along should strengthen the case, for while Pine was capable of citing the Stonewall for infractions of any city laws, it looked better in court if it was done by the city's own experts in overcrowding and the cabaret laws, the regulations that governed nightclubs. As usual, he had requested a federal agent from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. While the Bureau did not always have an agent to spare, they did this night, for Pine's office had received a message stating that one of their agents would be there, which was welcome news. He had no doubt the Stonewall Inn was watering down its liquor, which was a violation of federal law. Federal charges were more serious than state violations, and if the local courts did not take these charges seriously, federal judges might. And while the state courts were subject to local political pressure, the federal courts were more likely to be beyond local suasion. Besides, the more charges, the better it looked in court. Maybe if he hit the Stonewall Inn often enough and hard enough, he just might succeed in shutting it down for good.\n\nWhile Pine needed the policewomen he had requested for this raid, he particularly hated using women undercover, for it always seemed to him that they faced even greater risk than his men. The women went inside in advance, in part so that they could say in court exactly who did what: who mixed and poured the drinks, who served them, which of the men inside the club was giving orders, and so forth. While Pine's undercover men could do that, it was easier to get the women inside the clubs. But he especially needed the women to assist in the arrest of any transvestites. Any men the agents snared in women's clothes would be examined to determine if they were simply wearing women's clothes or were transsexuals who had undergone a sex change: if they had had the operation they would not be arrested. As part of their job, the women were expected to mingle with the crowd and get friendly. And if a Mafia owner leaned on one of them to be more than friendly, duty called for her to play along. Pine cringed at such awful work, and he wondered how those who were married stood it.\n\nTo make sure that all went smoothly and to minimize the risk to the policewomen, he had arranged a meeting for later that Friday evening around midnight in the First Division headquarters on East 21st Street. While such a review before a raid was routine, Pine sometimes skipped it. Tonight the review would be held: Pine wanted to be sure that nothing went awry.\n\nWhen Jennifer Hardy's gay roommate headed out that evening, she decided to tag along. First they stopped to get a bite to eat and ran into some of her roommate's friends. Eventually they ended up at the Stonewall Inn as they usually did. Jennifer, only seventeen, had arrived in New York from California as a runaway a couple of weeks earlier. This was her third visit to the Stonewall. She stayed and ordered a number of drinks even though she did not really care for the Inn, which seemed oppressive to her with its extreme darkness and poor ventilation. Besides, the whole place seemed like the kind of bar one had to slink into. Jennifer also felt very uncomfortable in such an all-male environment. She wanted to find some women. On her first visit to the bar she had noticed one lesbian there, but the woman was so much older than Jennifer that she had not been interested. She wanted to find someone around her own age, someone full of life.\n\nAround ten o'clock the car carrying Maria and Kiki pulled up by the United Cigars Store on Seventh Avenue South where the two young \"women\" paid the driver and headed for the Stonewall Inn. As they approached the bar they ran into a couple of Kiki's friends, gay men older than Maria. One of the men appeared to be in stage makeup, with plucked eyebrows, and a small amount of eyeliner. His appearance made Maria wonder if he was a professional actor or someone who did drag.\n\nAs Maria approached the Stonewall Inn's doors, she had her draft card out, ready for her moment of triumph. \"The last couple of times that I had been there, it was like sneaking in with the grown-ups.\"\n\nAs she entered the Stonewall, Maria proudly displayed her draft card to the doorman.\n\n\"Look, I got proof.\"\n\n\"You've been here before, haven't you?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Well, you little bastard! We could have really got in trouble for that. Don't you know that we could get arrested?\" The doorman would not stop his embarrassing harangue. \"We could be closed down for letting you in without proof.\"\n\nThe verbal slap in the face was in sharp contrast to the congratulations Maria had anticipated. Crestfallen, she followed Kiki inside.\n\nLeaving the Bleecker Street commune, Danny Garvin headed to Danny's, his current bar of choice. He walked over to Christopher Street, waited in line to get inside what was now the most popular gay men's bar in the Village, and purchased his two drink tickets. On entering, he traded in one of the tickets for a soda and then stationed himself at the short service bar in the club's rear.\n\nAfter hanging out for about a half hour, he was surprised to see none other than Keith Murdoch approaching. Danny had gotten involved with Keith after he had split up with Frank, who had disliked Danny's hippie attire. While Danny had not seen Keith since he had left for college the previous summer, he had continued to long for him, in part because he found he had so much in common with Keith. Moreover, they had hit it off sexually. Keith's stunning good looks, dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and cleft chin had not hurt, either.\n\n\"Wow! What are you doing here?\"\n\n\"Wow, how's it going?\"\n\n\"You back in the city now?\"\n\n\"Yeah. You look good.\"\n\n\" _You_ look good.\"\n\nThe two friends started catching up on what had been going on in each other's lives. Danny told Keith that he had moved into an all-gay commune. They went on to talk about all the incredible social and political changes rocking the country, especially the war in Vietnam. Keith learned that Danny had attended a Be-in in Grand Central Station that had turned violent when the police had in effect rioted, charging into the crowd. Eventually they got around to comparing notes on their experiences smoking marijuana.\n\nKeith asked, \"Do you know where I can get some?\"\n\n\"Well, I have some back at the commune,\" Danny answered. \"Why don't we go back there?\"\n\nKeith agreed, and after they finished using up their drink tickets, the two set off for the commune. Their conversation turned to the subject of music, which like everything else seemed to be in a radical state of flux. Each eagerly asked the other if he had heard the latest albums by their favorite artists, including the Beatles and Judy Collins.\n\nWhen they reached the commune, they smoked some marijuana and then headed for Danny's bed.\n\nDick Leitsch threw his suitcase on his bed and started filling it. He and his lover, Bob Amsel, were to leave for Europe on Sunday. It'd been forever since Leitsch had had any rest, so this was a trip he was really looking forward to. He certainly could not have afforded a European vacation on the meager salary he got from Mattachine\u2013New York, but luckily Bob had a well-paying job. As Dick began packing, he turned on the radio.\n\nAt the midnight meeting, Seymour Pine reviewed the plans and his instructions for the bust of the Stonewall Inn with all those who would conduct the raid: the two women he had borrowed for the evening from Chinatown's Fifth Precinct, the five Public Morals officers besides himself, and Inspector Adam Tatem from New York City's Department of Consumer Affairs. It did not matter that the federal agent was not at this meeting, for it was up to him to get into the club on his own. After they had busted the Stonewall, the federal agent would simply identify himself to the police and then wait around while they gathered up the liquor so that he could take a sample for one of the Bureau's laboratories to analyze.\n\nThe review of the plans finished, the four undercover police officers\u2014the two male members of the Public Morals squad and the two female police officers\u2014and Tatem left Pine's office first as they needed time to get inside the Stonewall Inn and observe its operations.\n\nAs Kiki and Maria settled in at the front room bar for an evening of fun and celebration, Kiki ordered a round of drinks to toast Maria's eighteenth birthday. Later, with the music of the Supremes playing in the background, Maria bought a drink or two for herself while waiting for friends who had promised to come help her celebrate.\n\nBut the friends never arrived.\n\nJohn O'Brien never had to think about what he was going to do on a Friday night. He was so passionate about politics that every Friday night he looked forward to going to his favorite place to discuss political issues: the east side of Sixth Avenue below 8th Street. There he'd find activists hawking pamphlets as they worked the crowds who came to buy incense and beads from hippies who sold these goods on the sidewalk. It was not only a great place to hang out and talk, but there also were a good number of gay men among the political debaters and shoppers, so it was an excellent place to cruise as well.\n\nAbout half an hour after the first undercover officers had departed from the First Division office, Seymour Pine, Charles Smythe, and the two other plainclothes police officers left the 21st Street office. None of the four used police department vehicles, and Pine and Smythe traveled together in Pine's automobile. They drove to Greenwich Village, parked separately within a few blocks of 51 Christopher Street, and walked to their designated rendezvous, the interior of Christopher Park.\n\nThere the four men stood and watched the Stonewall Inn's entrance, waiting for the two undercover men to exit, which they did after a while. Everything was going according to plan, so Pine confidently waited for the female undercover agents to leave the bar, which would be his cue to raid the place.\n\nTommy Lanigan-Schmidt decided to visit his favorite bar late in the evening. When he got to the Stonewall, he saw that Johnny Shades was at the door. Tommy had no idea if Johnny Shades slept with men, but he found him very sexy. Johnny, however, far from even noticing Tommy, was dismissive of him. On this night, Johnny refused even to let Tommy inside. Disappointed, Tommy took off down Christopher Street.\n\nSeymour Pine continued to stare at the entrance to the Stonewall, but the policewomen still had not come out. Had something gone wrong? Pine was aware that some members of the Mafia knew police procedure even better than some police officers, and the two female officers were carrying guns in their purses. Perhaps the women had been discovered. Were they in danger? Should he go in now or wait? As Pine nervously weighed his options, he noticed that the place seemed unusually busy and mentioned this to Smythe, who seconded the observation.\n\nJennifer Hardy was getting rather drunk. _Shit_ , she thought. _I want to get out of here_. She walked outside, crossed the street, and entered Christopher Park to smoke a cigarette. \"I was kind of milling around in the park and trying to clear my head a little bit, because I was getting a real funny feeling in my head. I felt alone that night. I felt really lonely, really alone.\"\n\nCraig Rodwell and his lover, Fred Sargeant, left their friends' apartment near New York University where they had just finished a game of bridge. As they headed back to their Bleecker Street apartment, Craig noticed that it was unusually hot, even for late June.\n\nPine continued to wait. Still there were no policewomen. He discussed the situation with Smythe and his two men. _What could have happened?_ he wondered. He decided to wait awhile longer before going inside.\n\nDisappointed at her friends' standing her up, Maria tried to make the best of the evening by talking to some of the club goers, still eager to share her excitement about her coming-of-age and the freedom she anticipated. \"I knew in my heart that I wasn't gay, but I felt that these people were more accepting than any other people I had met. I felt happy to be with them, yet sorry for myself and for them that we had to hide\u2014hide who we were, hide who we loved, hide who we wanted to be.\"\n\nA club patron walked up to one of the Stonewall Inn's jukeboxes, dropped in a coin, surveyed the offerings, and selected a song by the Rolling Stones. The androgynous Mick Jagger's voice cut urgently through the dark, perfume-scented air inside the Stonewall Inn, singing, \"I can't get no satisfaction.\"\n\n#\n\n# _\"We're Taking the Place!\"_\n\nSeymour Pine finally decided that he could wait no longer, for it now seemed a real possibility that the undercover policewomen inside the Stonewall Inn could be in danger. Turning to his men, he said, \"Let's go, fellas.\"\n\nAnd so it happened that around one-twenty on the morning of Saturday, June 28, four plainclothes police officers from the First Division morals squad wearing dark three-piece suits and ties, two patrolmen, one carrying a radiotelephone, and Detective Charles Smythe, all led by Seymour Pine, walked through Christopher Park's north gate and crossed Christopher Street to raid the Stonewall Inn. Pine stopped at the Stonewall Inn's thick wooden double doors and announced, \"Police! We're taking the place!\" As always, they were delayed at the door for several seconds. By the time Pine, Smythe, and one of the other two officers who had been waiting in Christopher Park\u2014the officer carrying the radiotelephone initially stayed just outside the Stonewall Inn because the bulkiness of the unit would make him too vulnerable in case something went wrong\u2014were stepping across the Stonewall Inn's threshold, they were joined by the two undercover men who had been inside earlier. Once the raiding party (except for the officer in charge of the radiotelephone) was inside, they used a pay phone to notify the Sixth Precinct of their action and ask for backup.\n\nOn entering the front room, Pine caught a glimpse of Inspector Tatem sitting at the bar talking animatedly with a transvestite. Obviously Tatem was trying to put the make on her, but the officers, not wanting to give him away, merely walked by him without saying anything.\n\nMorty Manford was dancing when the music suddenly stopped and the lights were turned up. Abruptly stopping in midbeat, he noticed \"some very vicious men\" moving through the bewildered crowd.\n\nMichael Fader, a twenty-six-year-old insurance salesman, was confused by the white lights that he associated with closing time. He had been in his favorite club such a short while that he didn't even feel settled in yet. The Rochester native knew from experience that the Rochester police did not harass homosexuals. If someone threw a rock through a gay bar window in his hometown, the police arrested the rock thrower, not the homosexuals, so naturally Michael did not equate the arrival of the police with harassment. \"It crossed my mind that it was a fire drill or something. I didn't know what to think. I learned very quickly that the police were raiding the place. It immediately flashed through my mind, _What for?_ \"\n\nPhilip Eagles was standing close to the dance floor by the bar in the front room, having a drink and watching the go-go boys dance in their gold-lam\u00e9 bikinis, when \"there was a commotion, and I saw policemen filing into the bar, and I thought, _Here we go again!_ \"\n\nJoel S. remembers the night as a regular one until the lights came on. \"People were just kind of standing there talking to each other, 'What's going on?'\u2014waiting to see some kind of direction. 'Are the lights going to go off, are we going to be able to start dancing again, or...?' \"\n\nAs soon as Maria Ritter noticed the police, however, she did not need any elucidation. \"The cops had gone into the back room and started pushing people out. I realized it was something when I saw a cop. I headed for the bathroom, hoping there was a window. If there had been I would've gone out it. I have this strange recollection of wanting to get the hell out of there.\" Maria went through the back room and entered the women's rest room. No sooner had she closed the door than a police officer ordered her out. When she emerged, he grabbed her by the arm, and said, \"Over there!\" directing her to the east side of the club's front room.\n\nAs whispers went around the club that the place was being raided, customers rushed to locate friends. \"Are we going to be arrested?\" one shocked young man asked. Another terror-stricken man moaned, \"I'll lose my job. What will happen to me? My family! Oh no, no, no!\" Then the police sealed the doors of the bar.\n\nMaria remembers that \"people were trying to get out, but to no avail. It was havoc; it was chaotic\u2014it seemed things happened Bam! Bam! Bam!\" Michael Fader's recollection is similar: \"Things happened so fast you kind of got caught not knowing. All of a sudden there were police there and we were told to all get in lines and to have our identification ready to be led out of the bar. And I noticed while waiting in line to leave, the policemen were running around the facilities and the room.\"\n\nAnother witness described how the customers felt: \"I was anxious. Everybody was, not knowing whether we were going to be arrested or what was happening next. I wouldn't say that I was afraid. It was a nervous mood that set over the place.\"\n\nThe sudden arrival of the cops and the blare of the lights had transformed the scene from one of festivity to sadness. The jukeboxes fell silent, and the shimmering go-go boys left their cages to put on their street clothes.\n\nPine called the female police officers to the side and got information from them on whom to arrest. He first wanted to know why they had not come outside. The women explained that soon after their arrival the bartenders changed shift and, wanting to identify the workers in both shifts, they had been waiting for the change of staff to finish.\n\nAs the police officers moved around the club, the four undercover agents who had been inside pointed out the managers and workers, noting which ones had poured drinks and who had served them. Other policemen gathered up the alcohol. Pine noted that many of the bottles on the bars bore labels, although none in the storage room did. As the Public Morals police moved through the club, uniformed officers from the Sixth Precinct who had been on foot patrol began to show up outside. Having checked in with headquarters on their call boxes they had been told, \"Get your ass over to the Stonewall; they're going to make a bust there.\"\n\nMaria noticed a number of other \"women\" in the area where she had been directed to wait, as the police moved quickly to separate the Stonewall customers into groups according to their official interests. Adam Tatem was shocked to see the \"woman\" he had been putting the make on pulled to the side as a transvestite.\n\nTwo decades later Pine recalled the raid's beginning: \"We immediately\u2014I don't remember who it was\u2014'Everybody get his identity cards out,' and that kind of thing. And we began moving everybody out. In the meantime, the people who were actually working there, in the club, were isolated and put in the back [west] room, and we began taking information from them, names and so forth.\"\n\nBut even this early in the evening nervousness was not the only emotion customers in the bar were feeling. Michael Fader remembers that, standing in line waiting to exit, \"I thought, _I don't want to leave!_ That crossed my mind very strongly. I just got here and I'm supposed to leave? And stand in line to get checked for my ID? And I felt myself boiling up inside, getting more and more angry. And then I noticed the police were doing some damage to the room. The side [west] room had benches along the wall that you could sit on. They had a hollow cavity underneath\u2014and the police were ripping apart these benches, tearing them apart. I thought, _What are they doing that for?_ \" Suddenly he remembered the Democratic National Convention the previous August, when he had watched on television as the Chicago police had rioted, savagely beating the crowd of nonviolent protesters gathered in front of the Hilton Hotel.\n\nAlmost immediately after entering the Stonewall Inn, the police encountered resistance. Philip Eagles witnessed customers \"giving the cops lip\" by saying things such as \"We're not taking this\" and \"I'm not showing you my ID.\" Philip asserts that he and some other customers in the front room also initially resisted showing the police their ID or only did so with \"a lot of attitude.\" One man refused to leave the club, and Pine demanded to see his identification. When the man complied, Pine made a note of the name to follow up on later. As the customers were made to line up, word passed down the line that the police were not letting people without identification out. Those in line began to conspire together to share their identification, figuring that if a person had an extra form of ID on him and it did not have a photograph, that ID could be lent to a person who had none. Michael Olenick remembers that someone in his group of four friends had an extra Bloomingdale's credit card that he lent to a friend of theirs without ID.\n\nWhatever grumbling there may have been from the gay men, the police soon ran into more significant resistance from other patrons in each of the two rooms.\n\nAccording to Pine, \"We had a couple of the transvestites who gave us a lot of flak. We'd have policemen standing at the door and most of the transvestites that frequented these places were known to us, so you sort of weeded them out and said, 'Okay, you stand over here, everybody else out.' The transvestites were picked up near where the bathrooms were, because we used to at least walk them over there, because that's where they were going to be checked. And the policewoman would take them by the elbow and say, 'Okay, let's go in and check you out,' and usually, that was it. They would say, 'All right, honey, I'm a man.' I don't think anybody really checked them. I think it was almost like we were satisfied in embarrassing them, that 'we know who you are and get out!' So you took one collar just to add to the evidence that this place was illegal. Whoever was the unlucky one was the one who gave you lip. We did have the right to check for transvestites, and as transvestites, most of them were prostitutes as well, and we were concerned about that.\" Still, Pine insists, \"if the place didn't turn into a rhubarb, we probably would have thrown everybody out, including those we verified as transvestites, except the management. I mean, there was no plan to take these people.\"\n\nHowever, this night, according to Pine, the transvestites resisted by refusing to go into the Stonewall's bathrooms to be \"examined.\" \"We separated the few transvestites that we had, and they were very noisy that night. Usually they would just sit there and not say a word, but now they're acting up: 'Get your hands off me!' 'Don't touch me!' They wouldn't go in, so it was a question of pushing them in, fighting them.\"\n\nTo Seymour Pine, it was the transvestite resistance that made the raid take on a broader scope than its intended original targets, the Stonewall Inn's owners and employees: \"So, we then decided that we would take everybody in. We collected all the liquor, and those transvestites that had given us some trouble, we decided they would stay, and everybody else out.\" Pine put the transvestites and some of the bar personnel into the back room to hold them, but that allowed the transvestites' insurgent attitude to spread to the Stonewall personnel under arrest.\n\nWhile the police had their hands full with the transvestites in the second room, they had been getting more than lip in the front room as well. According to Philip Eagles, there were some lesbians standing against the back wall who, when approached by the police, said, \"We have a right to be here,\" and, \"What are you doing?\" Philips states that the cops were \"feeling some of them up inappropriately or frisking them,\" so it seems likely that the lesbians' challenging the cops and the police frisking of them are related, although it is impossible to say which occurred first. Either way, Philip says that the lesbians \"were being pushed around and bullied\" and this plus the frisking of them made \"everybody generally very uncomfortable.\"\n\nAccording to all other accounts, however, most patrons in the front room only seemed aware of a long and nervous wait, which might be because they were not close enough to the lesbians to witness their plight. Manford recalled that \"confusion and uncertainty reigned... until they were ready to move us out.\" Manford estimated that it was \"ten or fifteen minutes\" after being lined up that the club goers started to leave the place.\n\nBut for many others inside the bar, whatever the actual passage of time may have been, it felt much longer than fifteen minutes. Raymond Castro, a twenty-seven-year-old Puerto Rican baker known to his friends as Ray, had been in the back room standing next to the jukebox watching a couple of drag queens dancing by themselves to a Stevie Wonder tune just prior to the raid. He remembers that the police \"kept us there for so long, it was almost like a hostage situation. The police wouldn't even let you get near them. They wouldn't answer any questions. You couldn't ask them anything. They wouldn't tell you anything. The only ones you could actually still speak to were a couple of the [Mafia] bosses, and all they would tell you is, 'Calm down. Everything's going to be all right, nothing to worry about.' \"\n\nAround this time patrol cars from the Sixth Precinct began to roll up and park directly in front of the Stonewall Inn, to reinforce the two foot patrolmen already present.\n\nWhile most customers were waiting in line in the front room, Inspector Smythe continued to move around the club, supervising the seizing of all the alcohol from the two bars and the club's storage room, he or the other officers making notes as they went along, for each bottle would need to have a tag indicating exactly where the bottle had been found, so that when the seized liquor reached the Sixth Precinct each bottle could be cataloged into the evidence book. Pine was periodically checking on Smythe, one time asking him, \"You're almost finished?\" and a bit later, \"We need another patrol wagon right now?\" By the time Smythe had finished rounding up all the alcohol, he found he had twenty-eight cases of beer and nineteen bottles of liquor on his hands.\n\nThe question of the seized alcohol in fact weighed directly on the need for more patrol wagons: Pine knew that alcohol transported in patrol cars often did not reach the precinct house, so he preferred that it be transported in patrol wagons. Moreover, because the Stonewall Inn had a lot of waiters and Pine had not counted on arresting several transvestites, he would definitely need more than one patrol wagon.\n\nPine next had to figure out how to remove the bars and the jukeboxes. After inspecting the equipment, he notified Emergency Service that he wanted both the bars inside the Stonewall Inn cut up and removed along with the jukeboxes.\n\nMaria Ritter felt worse than nervous as she waited to see what her fate would be. By now not only had her combined coming-of-age birthday and high school graduation celebration been spoiled, but also arrest with all its dire consequences for a pre-op transsexual seemed inescapable. \"My biggest fear was that I would get arrested. My second biggest fear is that my picture would be in a newspaper or on a television report in my mother's dress!\" During the wait, thoughts of her father weighed heavily on her mind. Although he was a research scientist who worked for a pharmaceutical company, her father struck Maria as sounding like Archie Bunker's twin. How could she possibly explain to a man who always called her Butch how she came to be arrested in his wife's dress in a Greenwich Village gay bar on her eighteenth birthday? As awful as the prospect of facing her father seemed, there were still worse fears: \"I had already heard what happens to queers in jail, so... take it from there.\"\n\nFinally the line of detained club goers did begin to move, for Pine, having separated those he wanted to arrest from those he did not, wanted the latter out of the way so that he and his officers could finish inventorying the evidence and taking the names and addresses of those they were arresting without any interference. The process of getting the club goers who were not arrested to exit the Stonewall did not go quickly. As Joel S. noted, every one of the approximately two hundred customers held by the police had to stop and produce identification at the front desk, where the police checked \"every single one\" of the IDs produced. \"It was a tedious chore just getting out of there.\" Those who lacked identification were herded into the coatroom to await questioning by the police.\n\nAs the patrons began to exit the bar in a single file during the early morning hours of Saturday, June 28, the police officers expected them to disappear silently and gratefully into the night as had always happened after raids on homosexual bars. But this night was to be different: after the patrons left the raided club, they stood in the street, watching and waiting, their attention focused on the entrance to the Stonewall Inn.\n\nWhy did the Stonewall Inn's patrons stand in the street and watch that night? Part of the answer is probably simple: the police had chosen to raid the bar at a peak time\u20141:00 A.M. on a summer Saturday morning\u2014so that with a large number of customers in the club when it was raided, there were enough people present to form a crowd. Also, the larger the crowd, the more patrons there were who might be there with friends, hence a larger number who might be inclined to wait and see if their friends were arrested\u2014or beaten. However, a rarely noted contemporary account attributes the eruption of anger that night to the previous raid on the Stonewall Inn, noting that customers had already complained about the earlier raid:\n\nOn Tuesday night... the Stonewall Inn on Christopher Street was raided.... The Stonewall... has survived... for the past three years.... However, the pigs decided to start playing political games... because when did you ever see a fag fight back?... Now, times are a-changin'. Tuesday night was the last night for bullshit.\n\nOn Wednesday and Thursday nights grumbling could be heard among the limp wristed set. Predominantly, the theme [w]as, \"this shit has got to stop!\"\n\nNot only was the previous raid on the Stonewall Inn discussed, but so were the trees that had been cut down in Kew Gardens. The gay men who stood outside the Stonewall talked about the destruction of their lovers' lane as well as about how many of their other clubs had been raided in recent weeks: the Snake Pit, the Checkerboard, and the Sewer. Now not only had the Stonewall Inn been hit twice in one week, but also tonight's raid had come on a Friday night and at the evening's peak. Standing in the crowd, Morty Manford sighed. _Damn_ , he wondered. _Why do we have to put up with this shit?_ 29\n\nJoel S. was among the first few dozen or so patrons to be released. He remembers that \"as we filed out the crowd started to gather in front of the place. I guess more and more people just started to mill around the front. People were kind of staying with friends, looking and hanging out. I mean the street wasn't packed, but there were a lot of people there, and they were spread all around in front of the bar, towards Waverly Place. I remember seeing some of the more ostentatious drags walking in twos or threes down Christopher towards the bar and hearing loud, shrieking little sentences. I don't really know what they were saying, just kind of drawing attention to themselves. They were marching along, trying to show a little anger or annoyance, trying to make some noise.\" Joel noticed the temperature: \"It was a hot, seething night. A real New York summer night.\n\n\"I guess everybody was wondering, _What's going on_?\u2014a little annoyed. _Is something going to happen? Why is this taking so long?_ In fact, some of the drag queens were kind of chanting and skipping along. It was entertaining.\"\n\nFrom his second-floor perch in a storage room The _Village Voice_ rented on the west side of Seventh Avenue South, Howard Smith looked up from his typewriter and noticed a number of police cars on Christopher Street below. Smith kept a pair of binoculars on his desk to inspect people who asked for him at the _Village Voice_ office across the street. Intrigued, he reached for the binoculars and peered at the scene. While he could not tell just what was happening, it seemed out of the ordinary. As he moved around New York City Smith had made a habit of following police cars and fire trucks as well as investigating any other interesting scene he happened upon. _Wow!_ he thought. _Right here! I wonder what it is?_ He also noticed the size of the crowd. \"It was growing very quickly. Every time I'd blink, there were more people.\" His curiosity piqued, he picked up his blue plastic press pass, hung it around his neck, stuffed some notepads into his pockets, ran downstairs, and \"walked up to the cops and tried to figure out what was happening. I saw that it was the Stonewall.\"\n\nThe commotion in the streets had also drawn Lucian Truscott from the Lion's Head to see what was causing all the racket. Truscott, an army lieutenant on leave, was also an aspiring writer and was using his time off from the military to do some occasional writing for _The Village Voice_. Observing the scene and deciding to watch for a while, he soon ran into his _Voice_ colleague. Truscott and Smith talked briefly about what was going on, and when Truscott realized that he did not have a press pass Smith let him into the _Voice_ office to pick one up so that he, too, could go behind police lines. The two men parted company, not to see each other again that night.\n\nThe crowd on Christopher Street continued to grow as the club's ejected patrons reached the pavement where they also were joined by a considerable number of tourists who, having come to the Village on a Friday night looking for excitement, had found it for free on the street.\n\nOne of those now in the crowd was Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt, having decided that enough time had passed since that mean Johnny Shades had refused to let him inside that he could again try his luck at getting past the doorman. Although Tommy had been to the club more times than he could recall, it just so happened that he had never been there during a raid, so that coming across a raid of the club he practically considered home took him aback: \"It surprised me because it was such a secure place that I thought, _Well, how could this happen?_ I immediately felt a kind of indignation because this was like sacred.\"\n\nAround this time Danny Garvin and Keith Murdoch were approaching the downtown side of Christopher Park as they headed north on Seventh Avenue South. After they had finished making love, they had decided to end the evening by dancing at the Stonewall. On the walk over they had talked about what it was going to be like when the revolution they and so many others anticipated happened: even the Beatles were singing about revolution. \"We all figured that the Black Panthers were going to start the revolution. All of a sudden, you see people coming out of the Stonewall, so you knew it was raided.\" High on pot, Garvin's first reaction was: \"The revolution had started!\" Garvin estimates the size of the crowd when he arrived at around 100 or 150 people.\n\nMost patrons exited quietly, but the small crowd cheered some of the club's favorites, many of whom camped it up. As one young man swished by the detective posted at the door, he tossed the classic come-on line at him: \"Hello there, fella!\" Others of the departing men took bows and were hailed by their friends. As customers reacted to the crowd's applause, they became bolder and more confident in their outrageousness. _Voice_ reporter Smith described the crowd as \"prancing high and jubilant,\" while Truscott observed: \"Wrists were limp, hair was primped, and reactions to the applause were classic.\" Said one excited patron, \"I gave them the gay power bit, and they loved it, girls.\" Another ad-libbed, \"Have you seen Maxine? Where _is_ my wife\u2014I told her not to go far!\"\n\nThe scene was not all hilarity, however. Smith, who managed to form a bond with Seymour Pine on the spot, kept near him and observed the police at close hand. He noticed that the police handled the exiting patrons roughly, now hurrying one out quicker than he could comfortably move, now giving another a parting kick.\n\nAs Garvin watched, he saw that \"it started getting ugly. You had attitude: 'Don't touch me!,' which then would ignite the crowd: 'Go get 'em!' So then it became a show. Who's coming out, who's exiting? No one knew that it was going to turn into a riot. In everybody's mind all it was was a bar raid. People were being kicked out of the bar, so there was going to be a little campiness, there's going to be stars coming out onto the street.\" Garvin recalls that some of the exiting men threw their arms up and out in a V shape as if they were performers making a grand entrance on a stage.\n\nAround this time Tom, a young man who worked for the East Village underground newspaper _Rat_ , out with a friend for a beer, stumbled across the scene in front of the Stonewall and asked some of the men in the crowd what had happened.\n\n\"They raided the joint, the fucking bastards.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Operating without a liquor license.\"\n\nA black man yelled, \"Shit, man, they's out like always to chase us down and give us a good fuck. They ain't got nothin' else to do during the summer.\"\n\nAnother member of the crowd approached Tom and asked him if he wanted to buy some speed.\n\nNoticing the crowd's \"skittish hilarity,\" Howard Smith paused in his note taking to peer up at the moon. It was full.\n\nA paddy wagon appeared, seemingly from nowhere. It pulled up part of the way on the sidewalk in front of the Stonewall Inn, just a little east of the entrance, and parked against the flow of traffic, facing east. Joel S. recalls that at this time \"the area was kind of loosely crowded, and the noisy drags, walking along, attracted other viewers. The crowd started getting bigger and bigger.\"\n\nCraig Rodwell and Fred Sargeant were crossing Sheridan Square on their way home after a game of bridge when they saw the crowd gathered in front of the Stonewall Inn. Craig and Fred approached to get a closer look and saw the patrol wagon parked in front of the bar, telling them that they had stumbled upon a raid. While there was nothing new about that, Craig noticed \"a feeling in the air that something was going to happen.\" Craig immediately decided that he was not about to miss out on this, and he and Fred climbed the seven steps to the top of the tallest stoop on Christopher Street, the one just west of the Stonewall Inn, to get a bird's-eye view of whatever was about to unfold. _This_ , Craig thought, _is different_.\n\nThe arrival of the paddy wagon marked the first time that evening that the seriousness of the raid came home to the men and women gathered on Christopher Street. From his vantage point above the street Craig noticed how very quiet the crowd had become.\n\nSeymour Pine exited the Stonewall Inn, prepared to begin loading his haul of prisoners and evidence to the Sixth Precinct station house on Charles Street, but found that he had only one patrol wagon. As Pine recalls, \"This presumably should have been the end of the situation, because the raid was already over. Now, all we had to do was put them in the patrol wagon.\" But Pine saw that he had a problem: \"The crowd had grown to ten times the size: it was really frightening.\" This surprised and confused Pine: \"So many showed up immediately, it was as if a signal were given. And that was the unusual thing because usually, when we went to work, everybody disappeared. They were glad to get away. But this night was different. Instead of the homosexuals slinking off, they remained there, and their friends came, and it was a real meeting of homosexuals.\" Still, Pine was not too concerned about the problem, for certainly neither he nor his men had ever encountered hostility from a crowd of homosexuals. Pine learned that only one patrol wagon had arrived, so he tried to order a second one, but when the officer with the radiotelephone made the call, a mysterious message came over the line: \"Disregard that call.\" This struck Pine as very odd, for the calls went via CB to a central unit. True, anyone in the Sixth Precinct would automatically hear the announcement as well, but why would anyone want to countermand it? Pine would try again later. Having cleared all of the people he did not want to arrest outside the Stonewall Inn, Pine could now load his prisoners.\n\nThe first prisoners to be loaded inside the wagon were members of the Mafia, who were brought out of the club one by one. As the mob members exited the Stonewall and were shoved inside the patrol wagon, the crowd reacted variously, sending up Bronx cheers for the hated Mafiosi, jeering the police, and clapping. Meanwhile, Craig Rodwell, watching the familiar ritual of another gay club being busted, felt the anger build up inside of him until he could stand it no longer and suddenly let loose a yell that pierced the night: \"Gay Power!\" Fred immediately nudged Craig, saying, \"Shut up!\" But everyone heard the cry that reverberated through the still night air and a few took it up and repeated it. But this idea seemed too unreal, too radical, to be taken seriously, and the newly heard slogan soon dissolved into giggles.\n\nThe non-Mafia employees of the club were the next ones loaded into the paddy wagon: bartenders, hatcheck boys, and even John, the black men's room attendant. As Michael Fader watched those arrested being loaded into the paddy wagon, the only one he recognized was John, who had \"always been a gentleman and helpful.\" As he saw this meek middle-aged heterosexual black man climb into the paddy wagon, the whole thing struck Michael as being so absurd and unnecessary. \"It was just kind of a strange cross section of people.\" His sense of social justice offended, Fader began to feel even angrier. The behavior of the police also galled the young salesman: \"They had no sensitivity whatsoever. They weren't brutal in terms of clubbing people, but there was condescension and a contempt.\"\n\nA few cheers went up as the bar employees continued to be loaded into police vehicles, and then someone began to sing one of the most familiar protest songs from that era of protest, \"We Shall Overcome.\" A few in the crowd started singing along, but after a few verses this, too, seemed too dignified to be taken seriously by a bunch of homosexuals and the crowd began to camp on the solemn lyrics. By almost all accounts, until somewhere around this time most of the crowd on the street were largely maintaining a sense of good humor about everything that was happening.\n\nThe next to enter the paddy wagon were three men in full drag, described by Truscott as being among the \"more blatant queens.\" Bob Kohler had arrived on the scene after the patrol wagon and spotted the street kids he knew from Christopher Park standing close to the park's exit onto Christopher Street. He walked up to them with his dog, Magoo, and watched as the well-dressed drag queens were put into the paddy wagon. Kohler recalled how \"the queens... were waving, and the kids were saying, 'Have a good rest,' and, 'Oh, I'm glad they're taking her. She needs a rest,' and, 'Oh, Lily Law's got you, girl!'\"\n\nThe buoyant humor displayed during the riots is noteworthy, especially on the first night, as the crowd deployed its keen sense of camp. Fader remembers, \"A couple of times the police would come out with someone and take him to the paddy wagon, [the crowd] would make quips to the police. There were some people with really good senses of humor, and the crowd would all crack up and laugh. That was intermingled with growing and intensive hostility.\"\n\nThe first hostile act outside the club occurred when a police officer shoved one of the transvestites, who turned and smacked the officer over the head with her purse. The cop clubbed her, and a wave of anger passed through the crowd, which immediately showered the police with boos and catcalls, followed by a cry to turn the paddy wagon over. Edmund White, having chanced upon the scene, noted that \"the cops, used to the cringing and disorganization of gay crowds, snort off. But the crowd doesn't disperse.\" Tom witnessed the same police\u2013crowd interplay: \"People began beating the wagon, booing, trying to see who was being hauled out and off. Several pigs were on guard and periodically threatened the crowd unless they moved back. Impossible to do. 'Nobody's going to fuck around with me. I ain't going to take this shit,' a guy in a dark red tee-shirt shouted, dancing in and out of the crowd.\" White described the temper of the crowd: \"Everyone's restless, angry and high-spirited. No one has a slogan, no one even has an attitude, but something's brewing.\"\n\nGay men began to go to the many pay phones around the Sheridan Square area and call up friends, telling them to rush down to the Stonewall. Others ran throughout the neighborhood shouting that the Stonewall was being busted, and word of the raid passed through the night like a fever.\n\nFader saw a policeman come out of the Stonewall who, though obviously \"trying to disperse the crowd,\" had no idea about how to proceed: \"He didn't know who was from the bar and who wasn't, because by then a few people had come from other areas. I was on the end of the crowd, probably closer to the Lion's Head, but close to the door. I called him a pig.\" Brandishing his nightstick, the policeman grabbed Fader and said, \"Just say that again!\" Fader's experience in many other demonstrations served him well: \"I was very cool at that moment. I had some knowledge, and I thought, _I'm not going to walk into that trap. He's standing there with a revolver and a club. I'm a loser on this one_. I said, 'That would be rather silly, since you have a gun and a billy club, and I don't. I don't see any point in that!' So I remember him taking the billy club and shoving me back.\"\n\nTom noted that with every passing minute, the crowd grew angrier. \"Pennies ricocheted off the van, a beer can hit the door.\" One reason that the crowd was becoming so angry was that they were aware that the police had other people inside the Stonewall Inn and they believed that these people were being beaten by the police. Fred Sargeant voiced this opinion soon after Friday night in a radio interview he gave to WBAI's _New Symposium II:_ \"The kids felt that some of the other kids were being kept inside and being beaten up by the police. I don't know whether it really happened that way or not, but the rumor spread.\" This belief no doubt explains Tom's reporting that \"the crowd... began shouting for different people that they knew were being held. 'We want Tommy, the blond drag queen.' Shouts went up... Suddenly Tommy appeared in blond wig, etc., and walked coolly out the door. Shouts and screaming. 'We want Tommy!' Tommy, not held by the pigs, smiled and suddenly took off into the crowd to the left.\"\n\nRodwell, conscious as always of the Mafia exploitation of gay men, yelled, \"Get the Mafia out of the bars!\"\n\nOne of the drag queens about to enter the patrol wagon was Maria Ritter. \"The cop who put me in was kind of teasing and flirting with me when he helped me get in. He said, 'Jesus, I can't even believe you're a boy!' I said, 'I'm not a boy! You don't understand, I'm a girl, but it's real hard for me to explain to you.' I guess he was just going by the voice and kind of like spooking me. He said, 'Come on, let's go.' I was put in a paddy wagon with a whole group of older drag queens, and I'm thinking to myself, _I'm dead_. They opened the door to get a few more who were dressed in drag into the police bus, and I very gingerly stepped down and kind of shimmied out, saying, 'Excuse me.' As I was walking away the cop who put me in saw me. He said, 'Hey, you! Come over here!' He was a young guy who looked as if he was maybe interested, and I begged him, 'Please! It's my birthday; I'm eighteen. And my mother's going to kill me!' And I was crying, and my makeup was going. He almost looked the other way, kind of gave me the hand motion, and I kept walking. If he comes after me and grabs me by the scruff of the neck, he's going to do it, but if he's not, he doesn't. And he didn't.\"\n\nThe next bar patron to be taken from the Stonewall was a lesbian, and she was decidedly not in a good mood. The existence of this lesbian and her supposed role in the Stonewall Riots have always been among the most controversial aspects of the riots, with some prominent commentators displaying skepticism about her. It is therefore important to look closely at all the available evidence concerning her. Tall and stout, with a short, mannish haircut, she was wearing pants and what one witness described as \"fancy, go-to-bar drag for a butch dyke.\" She clearly fit the role known at the time as a butch lesbian. Jennifer Hardy, who had been watching the raid from Christopher Park, remembers her as a husky \"bull dyke,\" of \"bigger size\" and with a \"nasty temper.\" Steve Yates, who, like Maria Ritter, had had his birthday celebration inside the Stonewall abruptly ended by the raid, went to Christopher Park and stood outside the fence, where his friends joined him. He remembers the lesbian as a \"rather beefy, good-sized woman\" and a \"typical New York butch.\" Another woman who witnessed the scene and wrote about it to a friend a few days later described her similarly: \"a dyke\u2014stone butch.\"\n\nAccording to Harry Beard, a former Stonewall employee, the lesbian's fight with the police had begun inside the bar. She had been visiting a bar employee who was a friend, Beard relates, when the raid occurred. Arrested for not wearing the three pieces of clothing correct for her gender according to New York law, she was handcuffed and, while in the hallway and just a few short steps away from the entrance, was \"yanked\" by a policeman. She told the officer, \"Don't be so rough.\" According to Beard, the policeman's response was to hit her in the head with a billy club. (In two other versions, one given by Beard in 1980 and another one given in 1989 by Beard and two friends, Gene Huss and Don Knapp, it was a request to the police officer to loosen her cuffs that resulted in a blow to her head. Yates's account might corroborate Beard's in part, for he remembers that \"they were manhandling her _out the door_ [emphasis added] to try to push her into a squad car.\" Yates also described her as \"one rather beefy, good-sized woman who had probably given them a ration of shit back,\" which also seems to fit in with Beard's assertion that she had complained to the police while still inside the Stonewall Inn. Like Beard, Yates remembered handcuffs: \"They had her pushed down with her hands cuffed behind her.\"\n\nThere is no doubt that, furious for whatever reason, she put up a fight. Yates says, \"She was giving them their money's worth,\" and remembers that there were three or four policemen on her. She fought them all the way from the Stonewall Inn's entrance to the back door of a waiting police car. Once inside the car, she slid back out and battled the police all the way to the Stonewall Inn's entrance. An unknown woman who recorded the scene in a letter emphasized the lesbian's fury: \"Everything went along fairly peacefully until... a dyke... lost her mind in the streets of the West Village\u2014kicking, cursing, screaming, and fighting.\" But after she reached the Stonewall the police pulled her back to the police car and again placed her inside it. She got out again and tried to walk away. This time an officer picked her up and heaved her inside. Yates estimates that the struggle between the police and the lesbian lasted between five and ten minutes. According to yet another account, at around this time a woman\u2014possibly this same lesbian\u2014urged the gay men watching her struggle to help her: \"Why don't you guys do something!\"\n\nBob Kohler remembers that at about this time \"a couple of the kids threw some change over. I got mad and said, 'Stop throwing your money! I probably gave you that money. Stop throwing it!' The cops closed the paddy wagon, got rid of the paddy wagon, because they obviously felt something was going to happen.\"\n\nAs the heroic fight by the lesbian who had twice escaped the car neared its end, the crowd erupted. The anonymous author of the letter wrote that the woman's fighting \"set the whole crowd wild\u2014berserk!\" Both the _Voice_ reporters are agreed that it was the lesbian's struggle with the police that ignited the riot. Truscott wrote: \"It was at that moment that the scene became explosive.\" Smith's account pinpoints the policeman bodily throwing her inside the car on the third and final attempt to put her in the vehicle as the moment \"the turning point came.\"\n\nThe _Berkeley Barb_ account seems to agree with Smith's version. Smith wrote that after the lesbian was thrown into the car, \"The crowd shrieked, 'Police brutality!' 'Pigs!' A few coins sailed through the air. I covered my face. Pine ordered the three cars and paddy wagon to leave with the prisoners before the crowd became more of a mob. 'Hurry back,' he added, realizing he and his force... would be easily overwhelmed if the temper broke. 'Just drop them at the Sixth Precinct and hurry back.' \"\n\nLeo E. Laurence wrote, \"Pigs were loading her into the wagon when she shouted to a big crowd of bystanders: 'Why don't you guys do something!' That did it. The crowd rushed the police wagon as someone yelled: 'Let's turn it over.' The pig driver drove off escaping the angry crowd.\"\n\nIndeed, it seems possible that it was this extremely masculine lesbian struggling with the police that _Rat_ reporter Tom took for a man when he wrote that \"the pigs started hauling off in a squad car a guy they had dragged outside. The crowd protested wildly, booing, shrieking, 'Up against the wall, faggots!' 'Beat it off, pigs!' A few tried jumping out to disrupt the no-man's-land between the door and the squad car, but most as yet were reticent about provoking any pig violence. Someone tried to sell me some speed, and another asked me for a knife. 'I'm gonna slice up those motherfuckers' tires.' \" That the masculine-appearing lesbian was the person Tom observed seems all the more probable since he mentions that an onlooker immediately asked for a knife to \"slice... those motherfuckers' tires,\" for according to Harry Beard, all four tires of the police car with the lesbian were slashed.\n\nSteve Yates and Jennifer Hardy likewise remember the lesbian's resistance as triggering the crowd's violence. Yates recalled the reaction of his friend Gino, an occasional sexual partner whom he knew only by his first name and describes as an intelligent working-class Puerto Rican \"rabble-rouser\": \"My friend Gino had had considerably too much to drink at this point, and he started yelling at the police. They'd started dragging a woman out in handcuffs, and he started yelling at them to 'let her go! Leave her alone!' and people started yelling for them to 'let her alone,' 'Leave her alone,' 'Let her go!' I never knew her name or knew anything about her. I just remember that was the thing that Gino saw that he just could not [bear to] see. He saw it as a great injustice. There was a loose cobblestone in the pit [surrounding] a tree.\" Gino, who sometimes labored as a construction worker, became so enraged by the woman's mistreatment that he wrenched the heavy cobblestone out of the ground and threw it all the way across Christopher Street. It landed on the trunk of a police car with a terrible screech, \"scaring the shit\" out of a policeman who was standing next to the car, says Yates. \"That's when the police backed in and barricaded themselves in the Stonewall.\"\n\nHardy's recollection agrees with Yates's in that they both depict a gradual buildup of the crowd's anger that suddenly let loose in a violent outburst: \"It just seemed like the catalyst for the whole thing to break loose was her getting out of the car and screaming and getting shoved back or thrown back into the car and then getting out again, because she was getting real pissed off. And the crowd started getting real ugly and bigger. The fun mood disappeared real fast and people started shouting. And then all of a sudden somebody said, 'Let's get 'em!' And cops just vanished.\"\n\nIndeed, while there seems no doubt that the lesbian who twice escaped the police car played a leading role in increasing the crowd's anger that Saturday morning in June, it seems very probable that more than one lesbian was seen resisting the police that night outside the Stonewall Inn\u2014or was being mistreated by the police\u2014and also contributed to the crowd's anger. Kevin Dunn, who had seen a fair percentage of the gay men leaving the Stonewall Inn camping and posing, noticed that \"the lesbians who came out were not in a good humor to do a little pose. They were resistant about being busted. And they had a more serious tone, being arrested.... The lesbians had been thrown in... and sealed [inside the patrol wagon] and not let go of, [and] the crowd seemed to get pretty ornery about that. It was like 'Don't do this to these ladies!' It was sort of chauvinistic in a way, but it was very interesting that they got angrier, it seemed, when the lesbians were thrown in.\" And just as Philip Eagles had seen a small clutch of lesbians inside the club, he also remembers there being more than one outside. He and his friends had gone across the street from the Stonewall Inn and stood on the sidewalk next to Christopher Park to watch what would happen. \"The paddy wagon was eventually driven up in front of the bar and parked on the park side of Christopher rather than on the bar side and drag queens were pushed into the paddy wagon and the cops were roughing up some of the lesbians. I believe one of them was hurt or was bloodied to some extent. Of course, the butch lesbians were among the first to start fighting back as I remember... and so they were getting beaten and hit.\"\n\nThere is no doubt, however, that at this stage of the evening many things were happening simultaneously in the angry crowd. One of the events that further stoked the crowd's fury revolved around Ray Castro. After he had been allowed to leave the club, Ray had walked around a bit and then returned to the front of the Stonewall Inn. When one of the doors opened he spotted a friend much younger than himself inside who gestured to him in a manner that said to Ray, _Do something!_ Ray surmised that his friend was fearful because he did not have ID on him. Castro decided that he would try to find someone in the crowd with some phony ID so that he could go back inside and give it to his worried friend. But before Ray could do anything at all he suddenly found himself being pushed by plainclothes police.\n\n\"At that point I started pushing back and wound up with two plainclothes police pushing me. The next thing I know, there's two plainclothes cops and two uniformed police in the melee. I was knocked to the ground by one of their billy clubs, [which,] put between my legs, tripped me. At that point the handcuffs got put on me, and they had a paddy wagon right in front of the entrance to the Stonewall. When I got shoved up to the door of the paddy wagon, I had two policemen on each side of me. I didn't quite go willingly into the paddy wagon. I didn't want to be arrested. Even though I was handcuffed, I jumped up and [put] one foot on the right of the door, and one foot on the left of the door. I sprung up like a jumping jack and pushed backwards, knocking the police down to the ground, almost against the wall of the Stonewall. Well, they finally dragged me into the paddy wagon.\"\n\nRay's fierce struggle with the police was recorded by Tom: \"A couple more were thrown into the van. We joined in with some who wanted to storm the van, free those inside, then turn over the van. But nobody was yet prepared for that kind of action. Then a scuffle at the door. One guy refused to be put into the van. Five or six cops guarding the van tried to subdue him with little success. Several guys tried to help free him. Unguarded, three or four of those in the van appeared then quickly disappeared into the crowd. This was all anyone needed.\"\n\nFader recalls seeing some of those he had seen placed in the patrol wagon earlier escape. \"The police were undermanned; they had big crowds forming. They thought everybody would just quietly go away and they'd be all matter-of-fact, but no one was in the mood to sit and be good or do whatever the cops told them to do.\" Fader saw the police \"leave the van unattended\u2014the doors were open, so they left.\" His account concurs with Tom's that the prisoners' escape excited the crowd. \"That raised the emotional level, the excitement of them getting away.\"\n\nManford also witnessed prisoners being left unattended but felt that the officers had done so on purpose. \"After everybody who was going to be released was, the prisoners were herded into a paddy wagon parked right on the sidewalk in front of the bar. They were left unguarded by the local police, and they simply walked out and left the paddy wagon to the cheer of the throng. There's no doubt in my mind that those people were deliberately left unguarded.\"\n\nIt seems certain that one of the escaped prisoners was blackmailer and Stonewall manager Ed Murphy. As Murphy told the story, he was handcuffed to \"Frankie\" (very likely Blond Frankie) and the two escaped into the crowd and then took a taxi down to Keller's, where an S and M queen was able to free them from the handcuffs. Manford's belief that the police allowed prisoners to escape seems plausible when one considers that the Sixth Precinct was paid off handsomely by the Stonewall Inn and some of the police present must have known Murphy's role in paying them off. Furthermore, letting the prisoners escape may have been retaliation for Pine's not informing them of a raid in their precinct in advance.\n\nWhile at this point in the night a full-scale riot was probably inevitable, Tom credited Castro's struggle with assuring that violence did erupt.\n\n\"Several others tried [assisting] the guy held by the cops,\" Tom wrote, \"but the latter escaped into the Stonewall. Soon the van pulled out leaving the street unguarded. A few pigs outside had to flee for their lives inside and barricade themselves in. It was too good to be true. The crowd took the offensive.\"\n\nDanny Garvin recalls that it was the police pushing back at the crowd, some of whom were throwing money and other projectiles at the officers, that caused the gay throng to make a useful discovery: a large stack of new bricks at a construction site on Seventh Avenue South. \"All of a sudden a cop would get hit, so there'd be an attitude. Then anger would start on each side. The cops then started to get a little bit physical. They would come at us with nightsticks, and we would have to disperse onto Seventh Avenue, where the people were able to see the bricks.\"\n\nAs the paddy wagon left, it was accompanied by three police cars with their sirens screaming. The crowd, however, was beyond being intimidated by mere sirens and the caravan had to push slowly through the furious protesters, who, enraged, pounded on the police vehicles. Danny Garvin recalls the noise as \"people would run over, grab the paddy wagon, and start shaking\u2014ba-boom! ba-boom!!\" Truscott heard the \"cry [that] went up to push the paddywagon over, but it drove away before anything could happen. With its exit, the action waned momentarily.\"\n\nAt least one\u2014and perhaps more\u2014of these vehicles had some of its tires slashed, slowing them down further. Pine, noticing that the crowd was getting out of control, urgently told one of the departing drivers, \"Hurry back! Just drop them at the Sixth Precinct and hurry back!\" After the police vehicles left for the station house, Pine had eight plainclothes detectives with him, including the two undercover policewomen who had been sent in ahead of the raid and Gil Weissman, a police officer from the Sixth Precinct. Weissman stayed behind with Pine and the initial raiding party, making him the only uniformed police officer left on the scene.\n\nDave Van Ronk, a prominent folksinger, was yet a third person out celebrating his birthday on that discordant evening. Two female friends had taken him out for dinner and drinks at the Lion's Head, Van Ronk's favorite watering hole, just two doors down from the Stonewall Inn. Sitting in the dining room of the basement establishment, he heard the wail of the departing police cars but, being a New Yorker, thought nothing of it. But then he began to hear \"a lot of yelling and screaming\" and saw people running in the street, though from his limited view out of the basement window he could see only feet and legs from the knees down. His curiosity piqued, he decided to step outside. His companions tried to discourage him, but he assured them, \"I'll be right back.\"\n\nOnce outside he asked a man in the crowd what was happening and learned that the Stonewall had been raided. \"Somebody was yelling out that they didn't pay off the cops.\" But then \"somebody [else] said, 'Let's pay them off!' and started to throw change at them.\" The rain of coins began with pennies, which made pinging sounds as they hit the pavement and the Stonewall Inn's windows, accompanied by jeers and the shout of \"Dirty Copper!\" While the heterosexual Van Ronk had never thought much about gay rights, he did not side with the police. \"I had been involved in antiwar demonstrations where the police descended on us like armed locusts. What I saw was yet another example of police arrogance and corruption. As far as I was concerned, anybody who'd stand against the cops was all right with me, and that's why I stayed. The cops had made themselves fairly unpopular over the years with tear gas, with dogs. Every time you turned around the cops were pulling some outrage or another. I reached in my pocket and tossed a quarter or just some pennies and around that time the heavy artillery cut in. I assume that some of the street people in the park had decided to join the fray because beer cans started flying over our heads.\"\n\nShouts of \"Pigs!\" and \"Faggot cops!\" filled the night air.\n\nAs pennies and dimes pelted him, Howard Smith backed up against the Stonewall Inn's door. He noticed that by now the detectives held \"at most a 10-foot clearing.\"\n\nNickels were the next thing to be thrown.\n\nFollowed by quarters.\n\nA glass bottle was lobbed.\n\nThen another one came flying through the dark air. And another.\n\nA flying object clipped Gil Weissman under the right eye. \"He hollers, and his hand comes away scarlet.... They (the police) are all suddenly furious,\" Smith wrote. Three of the officers ran into the crowd to try to scare the rioters away from the door. A beer can glanced off Deputy Inspector Smythe's head.\n\nVan Ronk decided that \"around that time, I guess I'd seen all I needed to, and I thought I'd go back and have a drink and tell my friends what was going on.\" But at that very moment Seymour Pine suddenly leaped into the middle of the crowd and grabbed him around the waist. The musician fell backward, pulling Pine down to the ground with him. Van Ronk decided to put up a fight, rather than be arrested. With the help of two police officers, Pine succeeded in separating Van Ronk from the crowd and hauled him inside the Stonewall Inn.\n\nVan Ronk pointed out that at six-feet-five, \"I'm pretty conspicuous\u2014I was one of the first ones they grabbed.\" While Van Ronk did not precisely remember the others who were seized by the police, he felt certain that the officers did arrest several other protesters around the same time they arrested him.\n\nPine's version of why he arrested Van Ronk is quite different: \"They were coming up and flipping coins into the faces of the policemen. I saw this one fellow come up and do that, and he hit the patrolman in the eye. He reached for his eye, and when he took it away there was blood. And when this fellow saw it, he got pretty nervous, and he immediately ran back into the crowd. And I went right after him.\"\n\nThe cops hauled Van Ronk, his head banging against the ground, into the Stonewall Inn's front room, where they placed a handcuff on his left hand and attached the other end of the handcuff to the flange of a radiator, close to the floor. Van Ronk said he was then kicked several times. He ruefully noted the irony that, handcuffed and lying on the floor, \"from there on all I could get was a worm's-eye view. The episode ended as it began for me, looking at legs.\"\n\nHaving secured Van Ronk inside the Stonewall Inn, Pine exited the club to survey the situation. As all kinds of objects continued to crash around the police, Pine decided that his only recourse was to take refuge inside the Stonewall Inn: it was either that or risk being assaulted by a wild mob. The crowd had begun to sense the policemen's fear. Tom wrote: \"A few plainclothesmen were surveying the crowd, obviously panicked,\" while Ronnie Di Brienza wrote in the _East Village Other_ that \"during the height of the action, you could see the fear and disbelief on the faces of the pigs.\"\n\nPine recalls that immediately after he hauled Van Ronk out of the crowd, \"he [Van Ronk] was rushed inside the place. In the meantime we [the police] were right near the windows, near the doors... And then it got so bad I ordered them back into the Stonewall.\" Pine told his officers, \"Let's get inside. Lock ourselves inside; it's safer.\" Before retreating inside the Stonewall, Pine turned to Howard Smith and, with a paternal tone, asked him, \"You want to come in? You're probably safer.\"\n\nSmith felt confused by Pine's offer but knew that he had little time to choose between two clear alternatives. Smith debated in his mind, \"If they go in and I stay out, will the mob know that the blue plastic thing hanging from my shirt is a press card, or by now will they assume I'm a cop too? On the other hand, it might be interesting to be locked in with a few cops, just rapping and reviewing how they work. In goes me.\" When Smith made his choice, he thought reinforcements would arrive in a few minutes, so the risk seemed negligible. Besides, Smith had always liked seeing things closer than other people. That's why he had gotten police plates on his car, so that he could pursue anything that looked interesting.\n\n\"Oh, I'll go inside,\" Smith told Pine.\n\n\"Fine,\" Pine answered. \"Come on. Right now.\"\n\nSmith hastened to join Pine, Smythe, Weissman, the two undercover policewomen, the four other plainclothes morals officers, and Consumer Affairs inspector Adam Tatem as they quickly retreated inside the Stonewall Inn and shut its doors.\n\n#\n\n# _Lancing the Festering Wound of Anger_\n\nHoward Smith had never been inside the Stonewall Inn and was immediately struck by how dark and dank it was and how strongly it smelled of beer. As soon as Pine and his officers had closed the club's doors, they used the tables inside to barricade the doors. Tables and other objects were also piled up behind the wooden structures inside the Stonewall Inn's windows to reinforce them: the police were now using the very plywood forms reinforced with two-by-fours to try to keep gay people on the outside that the Mafia had built to keep the police out.\n\nBut the objects used as barricades proved poor insulation against the crowd's rage, for at this time, in Pine's own words, \"all hell broke loose.\" He called again for assistance over his portable radio and again got no response.\n\nWhile Smith had taken refuge with the police inside the Stonewall Inn, Truscott had climbed on top of a residential garbage can next to the stoop Craig Rodwell and Fred Sargeant had mounted earlier to get a better view of the action. There Truscott witnessed the immediate reaction to the police retreat: \"The exit left no cops on the street, and almost by signal the crowd erupted into cobblestone and bottle heaving.\" Indeed, Truscott almost fell to the sidewalk when two men whisked the garbage can he was standing on from under his feet and threw it through the Stonewall Inn's west window, where it sat, supported by the window ledge.\n\n\"Some of those guys on the streets [had been] pushing the sides of the paddy wagon and rocking it back and forth and stuff. [When] they pulled the paddy wagon away, they threw the garbage cans through the window. When they threw the garbage cans through the window, that was it. Until then there was just a bunch of people in the street yelling and raising hell.\"\n\nA general assault now began on the Stonewall Inn using anything and everything the crowd outside could get its hands on: garbage, garbage cans, pieces of glass, fire, bricks, cobblestones, and an improvised battering ram were all used to attack the police holed up inside the Stonewall Inn. This was the high point of the violence on the part of the crowd of what would become known as the Stonewall Riots, a fury aimed at the police inside the Stonewall Inn, as if all those in the crowd assembled that night on Christopher Street had decided to personally revolt against the police to express a collective _cri de coeur_.\n\nMichael Fader remembers it this way: \"We all had a collective feeling like we'd had enough of this kind of shit. It wasn't anything tangible anybody said to anyone else, it was just kind of like everything over the years had come to a head on that one particular night in the one particular place, and it was not an organized demonstration. It was spontaneous. That was the part that was wonderful.\n\n\"Everyone in the crowd felt that we were never going to go back. It was like the last straw. It was time to reclaim something that had always been taken from us. It was something that just happened. All kinds of people, all different reasons, but mostly it was total outrage, anger, sorrow, everything combined, and everything just kind of ran its course. It was the police who were doing most of the destruction. We were really trying to get back in and break it free. And we felt that we had freedom at last, or freedom to at least show that we demanded freedom. We didn't really have the freedom totally, but we weren't going to be walking meekly in the night and letting them shove us around\u2014it's like standing your ground for the first time and in a really strong way, and that's what caught the police by surprise. There was something in the air, freedom a long time overdue, and we're going to fight for it. It took different forms, but the bottom line was, we weren't going to go away. And we didn't.\"\n\nThe police, who had blithely assumed that since they were just dealing with a bunch of fairies they would be unchallenged, found that it was as if the fey beings had suddenly and inexplicably metamorphosed into raging tigers. Pine, author of the U.S. Army's manual for hand-to-hand combat in World War II and victim of a mine explosion in the bloody Battle of the Bulge, said simply, \"There was never any time that I felt more scared than I felt that night.\" Pine's partner, Charles Smythe, who had fought alongside him in Africa and Sicily in World War II, would recall \"I was still shaking an hour later. Believe me, I've never seen anything like it.\"\n\nWhile Truscott saw\u2014indeed, felt\u2014the garbage can being thrown, according to _Rat_ reporter Tom, it was the man in the dark red tee-shirt Tom had earlier seen dancing in and out of the crowd who had the honor of throwing the opening volley after the police retreated inside the Stonewall Inn: \"The cat in the tee-shirt began by hurling a container of something at the door. Then a can or stone cracked a window. Soon pandemonium broke loose.\" Morty Manford recalled watching one of the second-floor windows above the Stonewall Inn break: \"With the shattering of glass the crowd [went] 'Ooooh!' \" For Manford, the breaking of the glass was \"a dramatic gesture of defiance.... We had just been kicked and punched around symbolically by the police. They weren't doing this at heterosexual bars. And it's not my fault that the local bar is run by organized crime and is taking payoffs and doesn't have a liquor license.\" When Manford saw the window break, \"there was a slight lancing of the festering wound of anger at this kind of unfair harassment and prejudice.\"\n\nWhether the anonymous man in the dark red tee-shirt was the first to throw something as the riot reached its climactic stage on Friday night or not, people closer to the street played a key role in unleashing the crowd's fury. Kevin Dunn, a nineteen-year-old gay man, dressed in hippie attire and a true believer in the peace movement, recalls how he stood thinking to himself, \"'I'm sick of being told I'm sick' and went to grab something\u2014I don't know if it was a halfway-filled milk carton\u2014it was some kind of a carton\u2014and I was just about ready to throw it, but I stopped and said, 'But you're not supposed to be violent, you're against violence.' \" But as Kevin hesitated, \"a big, hunky, nice-looking Puerto Rican guy\u2014but big mouth\u2014yelling out (at the police) next to me... took that thing out of my hand and threw it! And it was one of the first things that got thrown at the Stonewall. And I just thought after he did that, 'Ah, what the hell! Yeah!' And then I started scrambling to pick up whatever I could find.\" Indeed, the street element seems to have been critical from the riot's inception. According to Bruce Voeller, shortly after the police let the Stonewall patrons not under arrest leave the club, \"a crowd gathered and some of the watchers jeered the police. After a few interchanges, a young Puerto Rican taunted the gays, asking why they put up with being shoved around by cops.\" Voeller goes on to write that according to some accounts, it was this same Puerto Rican who unleashed the barrage of objects thrown at the police by hurling a beer can, adding that it is possible that the young man was not gay.\n\nBob Kohler agrees that the street element was important but credits the gay street kids he knew from Christopher Park: \"Billy was standing next to me, and I remember the first thing, Billy started to run and I grabbed him, because Billy had a court case pending. I said, 'Stay out of this, Billy! Don't get involved!' because it just looked like it was going to be a little skirmish kind of thing. You had suddenly the taunts. It wasn't, 'Oh, there's the girls in blue.' It was nasty, and suddenly all kinds of things were being thrown. Garbage was being thrown, cans. People were fighting. People were yelling. I just remember suddenly the mood getting very ugly. I remember being taken off guard and being scared, because people were sort of running towards the cops, and it was obvious that there was going to be trouble. That I saw. A lot of the street kids started to run towards the Stonewall.\" Before they took off, many of them handed him their stolen wallets, credit cards, and \"so-called diamond rings.\"\n\nThat at least three of these street kids were literally on the front line of this action is documented by a photograph taken that night by freelance photographer Joseph Ambrosini. The caption underneath the photograph\u2014published in the Sunday edition of the New York _Daily News_ just a little more than twenty-four hours after the riot began\u2014describes the photo as showing the crowd attempting to \"impede police arrests outside the Stonewall Inn.\" On the left of the photograph is Jackie Hormona, face-to-face with a police officer, his left hand reaching toward the officer. To his right one sees the feminine young man Tommy knew from the street with the plucked or shaved eyebrows. To the right of that youth stands the young man Tommy always saw wearing a coat or suit and usually a tie. The face of this young man, who sports a Beatles haircut, is partly obscured by another youth with his back to the camera. In addition to this photographic evidence regarding the role played by the street kids on Friday night, there is the memory of Jerry Hoose, who was summoned there by a phone call from his close friend John Goodman. Goodman told Hoose on his arrival at the scene \"that Hormona had kicked a cop, maybe, or punched a cop and then threw something through the window, and then everybody got going. But he was there and he attributed it to Jackie, and I believe that because she was a lunatic. And all the other queens like Zazu Nova Queen of Sex and Marsha P. Johnson had got involved. It wasn't just the drag queens; it was the street people outside of the Stonewall.\"\n\nMany other credible witnesses offer similar testimony concerning the gay street youth. Lanigan-Schmidt says, \"What I know definitely from my own experience is that the people who did the most fighting were the drag queens and the hustlers. [They] fought with the same ferocity they would fight with when any situation of survival put their sense of dignity on the line, very much like Bob Dylan's 'When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.' \"\n\nIt is as if on the morning of June 28, 1969, America symbolically got back the anger she had created by her neglect of her most despised children: the fairies, queens, and nelly boys she had so utterly abandoned, saying she did not want them.\n\nThe question of transvestite participation in the riots is complicated by differences in the gay male community that have developed since the Stonewall Riots. Scare and flame queens hardly exist anymore, and Garvin insists that it was flame queens who contributed most to the fighting: \"When people say, you know, it was the drag queens that started it, it wasn't the drag queens, it was the flame queens. The ones who were getting angriest and giving attitude were the flame queens.\" While Fader is a credible witness who says that \"no one group did any more bravery than any other group that I saw,\" the preponderance of witnesses who are both credible and who witnessed significant amounts of the action agree that the most marginal groups of the gay community fought the hardest\u2014and therefore risked the most\u2014on this and the following nights. (It is worth noting in this context that the lesbian who set the crowd afire with her physical courage was, from all available evidence, non-gender-conforming and, very possibly, transgendered, to use today's parlance.)\n\nStill, it is important to note that it was not only homeless or street youths who were fighting the police. Men like Robert Bryan, a middle-class college graduate, joined the fray. According to him, just before the police barricaded themselves inside the Stonewall, \"every so often, they would sort of reach out and grab somebody from the crowd and pull them in, and they were beating them in the doorway with clubs. They had a circle around; they'd grab somebody at random and beat them in the doorway. I was so appalled at what was going on that I came running up behind one of these policemen who was bent over with a club and, with all my force, kicked him in the seat and knocked him over. Well, at this point, one of the policemen charged out of the crowd after me, and I took off, running. He chased me four or five blocks, almost all the way home to Thompson Street, and I finally escaped from him.\"\n\nJohn O'Brien says that three groups were \"going after the police\": \"You had an underclass of kids who were either hustlers or homeless and a few people like me who were political agitators and troublemakers. Fortunately that inspired some others who were students, which made up the other element of people.\"\n\nWhile it seems beyond dispute that most of the acts of violence during the riots were committed by the more marginalized members of the gay and lesbian community, it is evident that when the police retreated into the Stonewall Inn everybody outside was angry. As Craig Rodwell recalled: \"[After the police drove off in the paddy wagon] there was just like a flash of group\u2014of mass anger.... And this may be five or six hundred people.\"\n\nTruscott wrote that \"the crowd erupted into cobblestone and bottle heaving.\"\n\nManford recalled: \"And it escalated. A few more rocks went and then somebody from inside the bar opened the door and stuck a gun out. Their arm was reaching out with a gun telling people to stay back. And then withdrew the gun, closed the door and went back inside.\"\n\nInside the Stonewall Inn, Howard Smith heard \"the shattering of windows, followed by what we imagine to be bricks pounding on the door, voices yelling. The floor shudders at each blow.\" As the crowd of hundreds shouted \"Gay power!\" and \"We want freedom!\" garbage cans, bottles, beer cans, and any and everything else that could be found was hurled at the Stonewall Inn. Pine recalls how \"now they really in earnest started to come after us. We covered everything [but] whatever we could find to put up against the windows and the doors didn't last very long. They began to batter this down and made some holes.\"\n\nSmith and the police \"found little holes in the wood [behind the Stonewall's windows], little peepholes, so we could look out into the street to see how big the crowd was without getting hurt because they wouldn't know we'd be looking through these little pinholes. And I took my turn and looked out. And the crowd was enormous by then.\" To Smith, it seemed like thousands of people.\n\nSmith asked Pine, \"Where are the reinforcements?\"\n\n\"I don't know. There must be some mix-up,\" Pine answered.\n\nSmith had the impression that Pine did not even want to talk about it.\n\nAs the caravan of police vehicles departed the Stonewall Inn with their prisoners, John O'Brien, out for his usual Friday night recreation of debating politics while cruising, heard the sirens but, like Dave Van Ronk, thought nothing of it. However, when O'Brien saw some young men running down Waverly Place, his interest was piqued enough to ask them what was going on. When they explained to him that the police were raiding the bars and that they were escaping, he decided to walk up Christopher Street and take a look for himself. When he arrived he walked over to the sidewalk on the north side of Christopher Park and saw an enraged crowd yelling and throwing a barrage of objects at the Stonewall Inn. When it was explained to him that the police had raided the club and were now trapped inside, O'Brien needed no further encouragement to join in.\n\nOne of the first things O'Brien saw after he arrived at the scene was men stuffing pieces of paper into cracks at the bottom of the plywood inside the Stonewall's window and holding cigarette lighters to them. Seasoned street fighter that he was, O'Brien could hardly believe his eyes as he watched the youths deploy their lighters. \"Some people went up to it, they'd light it, they'd run away.\" But at this point in the evening O'Brien says that very few people stood directly in front of the Stonewall for long, because they feared the police might fire on the crowd. \"There was a little bit of unsureness about what's next, and everybody just played on the spontaneity of what happened right before that.\" O'Brien thinks at this point people in the crowd were \"just egg[ing] each other on. We wanted to outdo the last person.... Nobody knew how far this was going to go.\" Just as Garvin recalls bricks being used for work on a building, O'Brien remembers that work on the street was being done on Seventh Avenue South close to the Christopher Street subway station and this made it easier to uproot cobblestones, which \"played an important part... [when] people went looking for [something to escalate with].\"\n\nO'Brien noticed a group of people on the sidewalk who were trying to uproot the parking meter that the street kids used to swing on, first trying to dig it out of the ground and then rocking it back and forth to free it from the sidewalk. The men wrestling with the meter looked like street people to John. \"One was a dirty blondish-brownish biker type, and a couple of other guys like that. One muscular guy who was with a couple of other guys working together got it out of the ground.\"\n\nSeveral gay men now used the parking meter as a battering ram on the Stonewall Inn's doors. Danny Garvin remembers that the use of the converted parking meter got an enthusiastic response from the crowd: \"It was like, 'Okay! Boom! Boom!' \" It took more than one attack, however, on the Stonewall Inn's doors to force them open. As the men continued to pound the heavy doors with the parking meter, others in the crowd grabbed whatever they could find to throw. The attack on the police created a cacophony as the sounds of glass shattering up and down the street mixed with the pounding of the parking meter on the doors, while cries of \"Liberate the bar!\" filled the air. All this was punctuated by breaking bottles thrown at the demonstrators from apartment dwellers along Grove Street who wanted to get some sleep. White witnessed the continuing assault on the Stonewall's doors: \"The ramming continues; the boys back up to the park fence, take a flying start, collide with the door as the crowd cheers wildly. Cries of 'We're the pink panthers!' A mad Negro queen whirls like a dervish with a twisted piece of metal in her hand and breaks the remaining windows. The doors begin to give.\"\n\nSeveral observers insist that the crowd only wanted to get back inside the Stonewall Inn to continue partying, implying that the riots had no political or historical meaning. Such a reading ignores the deeper side of this instinctual reaction of the crowd, who sensed that something valuable to them was being taken away and reacted accordingly. (Seymour Pine's intention was to shut the Stonewall down for good.) Fader explains this with considerable insight: \"The crowd was really wanting to bust in and go back in; it was that strong a feeling. We felt like we'd been booted out of our home for no reason.... And the police were in there, and they weren't coming out. We wanted to get back at them somehow. And of course there was no way to really do that with guys who have guns and sticks, and the best we could do, and there was not too much to deal with\u2014pavement stones and people throwing [things]\u2014they didn't have the equipment, so that's why they used a parking meter as a battering ram. We wanted really as [much as] one could without equipment to go after the police and free the Stonewall or whatever you want to call it. And of course you couldn't. People were throwing rocks and different kinds of things. They were symbolic gestures, and they were enough. It was a spontaneous thing. It was a totally emotional\u2014everyone having to live this life where we had to sneak in and all of that stuff, and then the place that everybody likes, to have it taken away in such a brutal way, we wanted to try and rectify this somehow to make it right and get back.\"\n\nInside the Stonewall Inn, the police and Howard Smith grew more anxious when they heard the windows being shattered, and then a loud banging made by what Smith assumed to be \"bricks pounding on the door,\" all mixed in with yelling voices. Smith felt the floor shudder at each blow the doors received.\n\n\"Aren't you guys scared?\" he asked.\n\nThe police answered that no, they weren't, but Smith noticed that they looked \"at least uneasy.\"\n\nThe night reverberated again with the boom of the parking meter on the Stonewall's doors.\n\nWhile most of the crowd were expressing their anger at the police, Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt stood in wonder as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him. To Tommy, who thought naturally in terms of biblical allegories and art criticism, the big double doors of the Stonewall Inn seemed like church doors, so that when he saw them drawn shut by the policemen who had retreated inside the club, he had begun to wait. He wasn't clear exactly what it was he was waiting for but at the same time felt he was waiting \"for something that you know is going to happen.\" Dim echoes of memories from a night years past had suddenly begun to resound inside him.\n\n_In the middle of the night: death, and a crowd that has been made to leave a building goes outside and, reluctant to leave, mills around, waiting. Words are chanted over and over, faster and faster. The yellow flames of lit candles. At the chanting's climax the priest bangs loudly on the double doors, which suddenly spring open. It is the Resurrection_.\n\nWith a final loud blast, the doors of the Stonewall Inn swung wide open.\n\nSuddenly Tommy felt that it was Easter again: a new beginning in the middle of the night.\n\nMeanwhile, Bob Kohler, still standing next to the park fence, noticed several people in the park quietly and methodically pouring a liquid into several empty Coke bottles, a couple of which were distributed by a man he knew by sight, who kept the rest of the bottles for himself.\n\nAs the mayhem continued, the police inside stayed busy as they tried to keep the Stonewall's doors shut, for the mob attacked the doors again each time the police closed them. Each time the doors opened, the crowd threw all kinds of objects inside at the police. Smith wrote that \"bottles and beer cans fly inside. Pine and his men immediately rush to shut it.\" On at least one occasion, \"[a] customer in the crowd picked up a shard of glass from the smashed windows and lobbed it inside. It bounced off the inner wall.\"\n\nOutside the Stonewall Inn, pandemonium reigned as the protesters gave full vent to their fury. Martin Boyce, who spent much of this evening with his friends Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt and Birdie Rivera, recalls how \"all of a sudden the whole street now had had it, and windows started cracking, and people attacked cars and moved cars back and forth, but let the straight people out, who were in terror, really, but nobody hurt them, ever. It's amazing how controlled the rage was, even though it was so hard. This black bus driver, I remember, was caught in the middle. He was laughing, but nervously. I don't think they'd ever seen anything like that, and we hadn't either.\n\n\"Birdie was a natural-born fighter. If she could grab something, no matter what, Birdie was going to get in on it. And Birdie grabbed some oranges and spread them across this car's windshield. I was saying, 'All right, girl, go! That's my sister! Now, that's the sister I love!' But the guy inside opened the door [saying], 'You motherfuckin' bitch!' \" Birdie and Boyce had assumed that because the driver was conventionally masculine-looking he was straight. They both suddenly realized that Birdie had picked on a fellow gay man in error. At that point, they both fled the enraged driver.\n\nThe riot had its surreal moments. The gay street youth kept running up to Bob Kohler now and then, loading him down with wallets and various other stolen goods. Trying to hold on to his armfuls of contraband, keep his dog, Magoo, from escaping, while restraining Billy from joining in the mayhem, Kohler at times resembled a circus clown who was pulling off an especially tricky balancing act.\n\nSomewhere around this time, Craig Rodwell and Fred Sargeant called the _New York Post_ , the _Daily News_ , and _The New York Times_ \"because we wanted to make sure this got in the papers.\" Craig explained, \"I immediately knew that this was the spark we had been waiting for for years.\"\n\nThe police's problem became even more complicated when the rioters started battering the Stonewall's west window's wooden subwall with the parking meter. \"One of the big plywood windows gives, and it seems inevitable that the mob will pour in. A kind of tribal adrenaline rush bolsters all of us; they all take out and check pistols. I see both policewomen busy doing the same, and the danger becomes even more real,\" Smith wrote. Inside the Stonewall Inn, the wooden wall having almost given in so terrified Smith that, having visions of being trampled by the mob, he went searching for a weapon behind the Stonewall's long bar. There he managed to find a fire ax next to a fire hose on the wall. He quickly stuck it under his belt \"like a scimitar because I wanted to keep writing notes, and Pine found that very funny.\"\n\nPine's mood changed quickly when he realized how vulnerable he and his men were. \"We shut the doors and tried to barricade them with tables that were in the place, and we tried to pile things up against the plywood that was backing up the windows. They broke all the windows and crashed open doors regardless. And it was at that point that I realized that my men were very nervous. And I was very apprehensive.\"\n\nOutside, Kohler saw a bottle go sailing through the air and land in the Stonewall Inn, followed by a small trail of smoke emerging from the club.\n\nThe \"Molotov cocktails\" that the crowd began to throw into the Stonewall made Pine and his officers even more anxious: \"There were bottles that came in that exploded with some kind of flame, and we were able to put those out with the fire hose that we had. We were very worried because we didn't know how long we could put these Molotov cocktails out, because they were gasoline and all we had was water. They didn't have the kind of fire extinguishers that would put out a fuel fire.\"\n\nDick Leitsch, who had cut short his packing and rushed downtown as soon as he heard about the rioting on the radio, attests to the kind of fuel being used on the Stonewall Inn: \"I saw [a rioter] take a can of lighter fluid, a Ronson or something, out of his pocket and squirt it all over this plywood, over the front window of Stonewall, and put a match to it. So there were flames. They were blue and had little yellow tips, and lighter fluid is very combustible. It burns, and it's gone.\"\n\nPine had no way of knowing what substance was contained in the bottles landing inside the Stonewall Inn. Given all the tension that Pine and his officers were already under, it is easy to see how they might have feared that they were in danger of dying in a conflagration.\n\nThis fear for their lives combined with the inability to communicate with the outside world put the police and Howard Smith in a frantic frame of mind: \"Every time we tried to use the [portable] radio to call for assistance, a message came back, 'Disregard that call.' Somebody else apparently had our frequency in the crowd, and so we couldn't get a message through. The phone lines apparently were cut, because we couldn't use the phone.\"\n\nPine's men found the fire hose on the wall and a fire extinguisher nearby. They unrolled the hose and used it and the extinguisher to put out the fires caused by the bottles that were lobbed inside at them. However, the fire extinguisher was soon empty, leaving the police inside the Stonewall with only water to fight what Pine and his officers believed to be gasoline bombs. Spontaneously all the law enforcement agents\u2014including the women\u2014took their pistols out. Pine surveyed the officers under his command: \"Everybody was lined up and they had their guns out, and that's when I became frightened that they would shoot, and I ordered them not to shoot, that I would be the first. You're so tense and it's the easiest thing in the world for a shot to go off at that time, and one shot going off will start everybody else off. That's what I feared, because the people were so close to us that there would have been people killed over nothing. The crime that we were arresting anybody for that night didn't warrant anybody losing his life for, and I was afraid that that's what was going to happen. I don't think there was anybody there who wasn't really perspiring\u2014I mean _really_ sweating\u2014because it was touch and go.\"\n\nThe fear of a fiery death, the great din of voices from outside, and the incessant reverberations from metal and rock pounding against the walls and doors of the club were about to overwhelm the police officers when an old war memory suddenly reawakened inside Pine: \"It came back to me as if it was yesterday... this tremendous fright, where everybody is crapping in his pants. And this was a situation that was equivalent to that.\"\n\nPine now knew what he had to do. \"I went down the line with the policemen, and I started to call each man by name: 'How do you feel, Joe?' \" As he addressed each officer, Pine placed his hand on him. \"And they all answered. It's the only way you break the tension, once there was physical contact between them and they have to answer you, 'cause you're holding your breath.\n\n\"Then I got to the reporter, who was standing there with a fire ax in his hand, and I asked him how he was, and he said, 'I'm okay, but I'd feel a lot better if you had the ax and I had the gun.' \"\n\nEven with Pine's cool head and leadership, it was still hard for the police to withhold their fire, for in such a tense situation time seems to pass much more slowly than in ordinary life. At one point, one of the officers stationed at the Stonewall's entrance momentarily lost his composure and threw his revolver at the crowd. It hit the door frame and landed on the ground. Pine remembers why the situation was so difficult: \"I knew that at any moment it could break into a real killing. It was very hard to keep holding while they were attacking and you were doing nothing.\"\n\nBut Pine also knew the dangers of not \"doing nothing\": \"I'd been in war situations where somebody panics and, instead of holding fire, shoots; and once that first shot is off, everybody lets go.\" Even so, Pine felt that if they had fired, they still would have been killed: \"If they would have broken through, no matter what we would've fired they would've continued going. It's the old riot situation: the people from the back don't know what's going on in front and they keep going and we would've been killed.\" Smith exactly shared Pine's estimate of the situation: \"It looked like they [the police] were gonna be killed. Because what if the crowd did break through and he yelled: 'Fire!' I don't think that would have mattered. There were so many people in the mob, only the people in the front would be hit and then we'd be overrun. I don't think firing would have saved anyone's life. It looked that enraged, the mob.\" Smith expressed this in his 1969 account by writing: \"By now the mind's eye has forgotten the character of the mob; the sound filtering in doesn't suggest dancing faggots any more. It sounds like a powerful rage bent on vendetta.\"\n\nHoward Smith agrees that Pine's presence of mind was critical in preventing a bloodbath:\n\nI was sure we were gonna be killed, but he was very, very good. He went from guy to guy. He made sure their guns were ready and all that. But he said, \"Anybody who fires their gun without me saying 'Fire!' is gonna be in big, big trouble. You'll be walking the loneliest beat on Staten Island for the rest of your career.\" He was very threatening and very in control of the guys, even though it was very apparent he was scared also. But he didn't want anybody to start firing because I think he knew one cop fires, they all start, and people could really be killed. And he seemed to have a very good sense that you don't do that.\n\nPine was very sharp. He was definitely in command of his men. Some he specifically said: \"You stand over there and don't leave that spot. You watch the door. You watch the corridor. You, I want in the back part of the bar in case there is some way in that we don't know about. You stand back there.\" He definitely positioned everybody. He always had at least two [police in the corridor] facing the door with guns drawn. It was the first time in my life\u2014and ever since then when I read this in articles about any police riot anywhere\u2014where they talk about good supervision and how important it is, how there always has to be a sergeant or lieutenant in any important cop event\u2014I had never understood that until I saw him working in that bar. And I was very impressed. It wasn't like, \"Oh, well, we're in here. They come in, we shoot them.\" Absolutely not. He was being very careful, but he had very little to work with.\n\nIndeed, Pine had less to work with than Smith realized. In 1969 automatic firing handguns were rare. The officers would have only been able to fire as rapidly as they could pull the trigger, but also most of the guns the police had on them that evening would have had to be reloaded after firing five or six shots. As angry as the crowd was, Pine did not feel that he and his men could have stopped it with only several shots each. Moreover, Pine's own gun, a .38mm Smith & Wesson with a wooden handle, had a very short barrel, only about one inch long, reducing its range of accuracy to only about eight to ten feet.\n\nWhile a couple of officers remained posted at the Stonewall's door, Smythe and some other officers and even Smith searched for an escape. Among the prisoners held inside was a bartender who had the keys to the place, and Pine intermittently barked questions at him, demanding to know what various things were and peppering him with queries about the club's layout.\n\nOutside, Garvin recalls, \"it was like being in a war. People were crying. People were cut up. I mean, people would throw bricks, but you didn't always hit a cop. Sometimes you'd hit another queen. So you didn't know when you saw someone cut were they cut because the cop hit the guy or were they cut because of running and falling or what? It was great, but you didn't want to get hit by nightsticks. Yet I had to see what was happening. I had to see! This was unbelievable. My God! It was like\u2014these are the guys at the Stonewall who were\u2014my God, look at... They busted open the doors. I can't believe it.\"\n\nFinally the police succeeded in finding a vent in the back up near the roof, and they struggled to get the smaller of the two policewomen outside through this opening. Pine instructed the woman to go across the roof and to climb down\u2014but not on Christopher Street\u2014report the fire at the Stonewall to the firehouse on the adjacent block, and use a telephone to send an emergency signal for assistance.\n\nThe crowd outside again focused its fury on the Stonewall's western window. Tom watched as \"a sort of wooden wall blocking out the front plate glass windows was forced down.\" Smith wrote: \"One of the big plywood windows gives, and it seems inevitable that the mob will pour in.\" But just then the police inside turned the Stonewall Inn's fire hose on the crowd, hoping to stop the rioters. From the inside, Howard Smith reported: \"The detectives locate a fire hose, [but] can't see where to aim it, wedging the hose in a crack in the door. It sends out a weak stream. We all start to slip on water and Pine says to stop.\" Outside, Truscott saw the youths \"cavort in the spray\" in \"momentary glee.\" Tom wrote scornfully: \"The pigs carried futility to the extreme and turned the fire hose on the mob through the door. Jeers, derision. One of the kids shouted 'Grab it! Grab his cock!' \" While the police did momentarily stop the siege, they did so only because they had provided some entertainment\u2014at their own expense\u2014for their tormentors, adding yet another humiliation to the already considerable roster of such embarrassments the raiders had already suffered that evening.\n\nThe ineffectual fire hose could divert the crowd for only so long, and, as Truscott observed, the rioters soon \"were able to regroup forces and come up with another assault,\" apparently a simultaneous one on both the door and the west window. Edmund White wrote: \"The door is broken down, and the kids, as though working to a prior plan, systematically dump refuse from waste cans into the Wall, squirt it with lighter fluid, and ignite it. Huge flashes of flame and billows of smoke.\"\n\nFinally, it seemed to Pine that he and his officers might have to open fire on the crowd to have any chance of saving their lives: \"We're inside and the fires are coming in and we're putting them out\u2014all the time we're dodging the bricks that they were throwing in\u2014and then they crashed through with this parking meter. And then I was sure we were gonna have to fire, but I was very reluctant to give the order, and I still kept saying, 'Nobody fire! Nobody fire! Let's back up if we have to. Help's going to be coming.' \"\n\nThe crowd outside repeatedly attempted to set a fire through the now-gaping hole where the west window had been. \"Some then lit a trash can full of paper afire and stuffed it through the window. Flames leaped up.\" Morty Manford witnessed the same event: \"People took a garbage can, one of those wire mesh cans, and set it on fire and threw the burning garbage into the premises. The area that was set afire is where the coatroom was.\" That night the closet was set on fire both symbolically and literally.\n\nWhile watching the riot, Truscott had heard more than one person say, \"Let's get some gas,\" yet he still found it a \"shock\" when \"the blaze of flame... appeared in the window of the Stonewall.\" Di Brienza watched as \"some small, scrawny, hoody-looking cat threw a can of lighter fluid through the broken window, and lit it up.\" On the other side of the Stonewall Inn's brick front, Smith saw an \"arm at the window. It squirts a liquid into the room, and a flaring match follows. Pine is not more than 10 feet away. He aims his gun at the figures.\"\n\n\"Then,\" Pine recalled, \"as luck would have it, we heard the sirens.\"\n\nThe sirens that Pine, his officers, and Howard Smith heard inside the club did not belong to the police but to two fire trucks that circled the area, no doubt because they could not get through the packed streets. White wrote: \"Two fire engines pull up,\" accompanied by the patrol wagon Pine had urged to \"hurry back.\" Manford saw the \"fire engine [start] coming down the block,\" evidence that the policewoman who had managed to escape the Stonewall had informed the fire department that the Stonewall was burning.\n\nHoward Smith recalls, \"When I heard the sirens, I was pretty damn happy.\" Pine remembers all the tension disappearing \"because we knew the Tactical Patrol Force would come in very large numbers.\" The Tactical Patrol Force, then known as the TPF or, more commonly, the riot police, was an elite group of police held in reserve in various parts of the city where trouble might be expected to break out. They had special riot equipment such as tear gas and shields and instead of hats wore helmets with plastic visors.\n\nThose trapped inside the Stonewall Inn felt relieved on hearing the sirens, but they had been so unnerved by the fury of the crowd that they were reluctant to venture outside. Smith recalls: \"We made sure there were really a lot of cops there, and then we went out.\" The first reaction of the police and Smith was to check each other to see that each of them was all right. After the head count, they giggled for several minutes to release all the pent-up tension. As the laughter died down, Smith began catching up on his note taking and jotted down: \"The people around me change back to cops. They began examining the place.\"\n\nThe Sixth Precinct police began to move the crowds away from the Stonewall's doors, and Pine, his officers, and Smith walked outside the club into the welcoming night air. Smith, still shaken, stuck close to Pine. \"I didn't want trouble from the newly arrived cops, and I didn't want trouble from the crowd. I was very afraid. I felt I had to find a safe way to re-go through the crowd and back to my office so people wouldn't think 'There goes a cop!' \"\n\nSeveral local radio patrol cars pulled up with their red lights dancing, and one of them soon sent out a mobilization signal, either a 10-13, which means \"policeman in trouble\u2014respond,\" or a 10-41, which would bring the TPF. Whether in response to the signal just sent by the patrol car or to the earlier telephone call by the policewoman who crawled through the vent, police cars from the Fourth, Fifth, and Tenth precincts soon arrived bearing seventeen officers\u2014one sergeant and four or five patrolmen from each of the precincts\u2014all of them predesignated to respond to emergency calls. The seventeen joined the handful of officers who had already shown up from the Sixth Precinct. Pine next used the radio cars to call for an ambulance to take Gil Weissman to nearby St. Vincent's Hospital to have the wound to his eye taken care of.\n\nAlthough the TPF had not yet arrived, Pine now had the patrol wagon he had so sorely been lacking and decided to go ahead and load the alcohol and the remaining prisoners in it. He had the prisoners marched out of the Stonewall Inn to the patrol wagon, parked on Christopher Street near the corner of Seventh Avenue South, presumably because enough of the crowd had not yet been dispersed for the patrol wagon to park right in front of the Stonewall Inn.\n\nAmazingly, Pine still had not learned from the fiery experience he had just been through: \"Even though we had just had all this trouble from these docile homosexuals\u2014who weren't docile anymore\u2014we still didn't think that anybody wouldn't go peacefully.\" He let the prisoners leave the Stonewall with only Van Ronk handcuffed.\n\nVan Ronk vividly remembered leaving the Stonewall Inn: \"I heard sirens. The door opened. Some cops came in and they rousted us, 'Up, out!': that was it. The cops made us [into] sort of a flying wedge to get through [the crowd] to the paddy wagon. There were more people out there when I came out than when I went in. Things were still flying through the air, cacophony\u2014I mean just screaming and yelling, sirens, strobe lights, the whole spaghetti. From what I saw, that mob was not cowed. It would have taken something to get them to disperse. They were loaded for bear.\"\n\nPine recalls, \"Fights erupted with the transvestites, who wouldn't go into the patrol wagon. Some [transvestites] who hadn't even been in the Stonewall came over and started a fight with our guys.\" Marle Becker witnessed the transvestites fighting from across the street: \"All I could see about who was fighting was that it was transvestites and they were fighting furiously.\" Becker's report of the fury with which the transvestites fought is believable, as Pine says that \"some of our policemen [were] roughed up by the transvestites. The only fighting we did with anybody was putting them into the patrol wagons, and that was only the transvestites. The other guys went peacefully.\" The new transvestites were added to the haul Pine had already made.\n\nThere is another possible interpretation of the preceding account: Pine says that no transvestites went on the first patrol wagon trip, but reliable accounts recorded in 1969 have transvestites being loaded on the patrol wagon before Pine and his officers were barricaded inside the Stonewall Inn. Also, Van Ronk said he does not recall any transvestites being in the patrol wagon on his trip over to the police station. It is possible therefore that Pine's memory is inaccurate and that the incident he remembers is actually the combined accounts of the two times the patrol wagon was loaded that evening. In this case, Becker's witnessing of the transvestites fighting the police would be not of the second but of the first loading of the paddy wagon. The problem with this solution of the puzzle, however, is that Becker's positioning of the patrol wagon matches Van Ronk's recollection of where the patrol wagon was when he entered it: up close to Seventh Avenue South rather than directly in front of the Stonewall Inn, where it seems the first patrol wagon was loaded. Either way\u2014whether the transvestites resisted being loaded into the patrol wagon on the first or second trip (or, more improbably, on both trips)\u2014it is probably more significant to note that the transvestites fought as they were put inside the patrol wagon and that the crowd was still not cowed when other police officers rescued Pine and his officers from inside the Stonewall Inn.\n\nBefore the patrol wagon left Christopher Street, the TPF arrived in two buses. They came down Christopher Street from the west\u2014against the flow of traffic\u2014and parked between Seventh Avenue South and the Stonewall, close to the corner. Bob Kohler watched as the TPF got off the buses. \"I had been in enough riots to know that the fun was over. These guys had helmets and lived to break heads.\" Moreover, they had special reason to be angry that evening: \"The cops were totally humiliated. This never, ever happened. They were angrier than I guess they had ever been, because everybody else had rioted. Everybody in America who had a beef had already rioted, but the fairies were not supposed to riot. And nobody else had ever won. The cops realized that just by having to call in reinforcements, just by barricading\u2014no other group had ever forced cops to retreat before, so the anger was just enormous. I mean, they wanted to kill.\"\n\nConcerning the TPF, Pine himself recalls, \"They were not gentle,\" but offers another rationale for their anger: \"They saw the damage that was done to the place, and we had had this policewoman tell them that they were throwing fire bombs in there, and so they were prepared for real action. They scattered the crowds, and then they [the crowd] regathered. They were swinging their nightsticks at the crowd, breaking up these groups of people, and that's when we took off. But that was where my job ended.\" As he left the scene Pine still does not seem to have grasped the meaning of what had happened as the result of the raid he had just led: \"There was no inkling, when the TPF came, that this was going to be a protracted operation that was going to last not only through the night but the following day and night.\" Pine and Smythe left for the Sixth Precinct station house to log in the evidence they had gathered and process the prisoners they had arrested.\n\nHoward Smith also left, returning to his desk overlooking Christopher Park. \"I could see it all from my window when I went back upstairs as it continued for a while, and I tried to write it right away.\"\n\nCraig Rodwell was part of the crowd that the TPF was deployed on Christopher Street to clear. \"They appeared in a V wedge, coming up Christopher Street towards Seventh Avenue because cars couldn't get through or nothing. And we slowly backed up\u2014the same speed as they came forward. And they got to the Square. But meanwhile all of us had just gone around the block and were behind them the other way. And they didn't know that at first. They had just assumed, _Well, we'll just show all of our billy clubs and all of our men's equipment and then the faggots will go home and that would be it_. But it wasn't it. And it's like a tug-of-war that went on for a few hours that night. They would chase us down the street and we'd just go around the block and come back and chant things and throw bottles.\"\n\nO'Brien remembers that \"when they tried to clear the streets is when people resented it, 'cause it came down to 'Whose streets are these? They are our streets. And you cops are not from this area; this is our area. It's gay people's streets.' And I think that was the attitude expressed in different formats.\"\n\nO'Brien feels certain that some of the crowd, both gay and nongay, including those on the streets and those in cars, were purposefully not moving, pretending to merely be curious or helplessly stuck in the crowd. \"People just came by to see what's happening and they couldn't [move] because there were rows of people behind them and the rows behind deliberately [would not move]. A lot of them knew that they were interfering with the cops, and [that] was that passive kind of resistance by a lot of gays. They just stood, but it was their way of showing resistance, and some of the people the cops went after just for standing there, because they want the streets cleared, because then they can bring more police cars in.\" O'Brien adds that it \"was brave to do even that, and it allowed people like me [who wanted to engage the police more directly] to take advantage of the police having to respond to the crowds to go after the police. Because every time their attention was turned towards trying to clear the streets and their backs to us we'd be throwing things at the cops or in front of the cops, going after us.\"\n\nThe police objective was to clear the streets, and given the crowds and the narrowness of the one-way street in front of the Stonewall Inn, the police did not have an easy task, whereas all the crowd had to do was block the section of the street in front of the Inn and traffic was brought to a standstill. To this end a car was overturned, approximately in front of the stoop next to the Stonewall. As O'Brien explained, \"You can wail your siren all day, you're still not getting through if those vehicles aren't moving, and they're not moving if one's overturned and there's a crowd there.\"\n\nAs the TPF and the crowd faced off, some of the youths called upon their street repertoire, probably inspired by the sight of the TPF advancing on them in a line formation. Suddenly the gay street youths linked their arms around one another and kicked Rockette style as they sang their old reprise, but this time changing the word _Village_ to _Stonewall_ :\n\nWe are the Stonewall Girls,  \nWe wear our hair in curls.  \nWe wear no underwear:  \nWe show our pubic hairs.\n\nPerhaps the street youths' humor was more effective than they hoped, for now the fire trucks were used not for firefighting but to help disperse the crowd. Their hoses were turned on the crowd, scattering them.\n\nBeing hosed down was only a temporary setback for the protesters. Over and over that night they re-formed, playing a game of cat and mouse with the TPF, for as Garvin accurately states, \"because of the location, there was no way to contain us.\" The confused geography of the Sheridan Square area of the Village worked very effectively against the TPF. As Bob Kohler watched, the street kids \"were constantly getting over on the TPF. The TPF would chase somebody this way, then the kids would start something behind them so that attention would be taken, and then the TPF would come [the other] way, and then more kids would start something behind them. So the TPF were constantly off guard. It was keeping them on the run constantly.\"\n\nThe kick-line routine was used two or more times that night. Kohler, as well as others who watched, were amazed at the courage of the street kids who dared to mock the TPF to their faces: \"The TPF were down at one end of the street, and the kids lined up in their little Rockette line, and they would kick their legs up, and the TPF would run after them. Suddenly these kids were coming from the other end, and there were maybe four [of them]. They had their arms linked and they were doing Rockette kicks and going towards the TPF. They were taunting them, calling them 'the girls in blue' again and 'Lily Law,' and they would get about as close to them as they felt they should. Then they'd start to run. Some of them, of course, didn't run fast enough.\"\n\nTwo who did not run fast enough were Martin Boyce and Birdie. Boyce recalls, \"We started taunting the cops, 'We are the Village girls, we wear our hair in curls, we wear our dungarees above our nelly knees, and with the constables, we simply hypnotize,' and we're going on, and the police rushed us, and that's when I realized this is not a good thing to do, because they got me in the back with a [night] stick. And I said, 'No, that's not for me.' Miss Birdie was more emboldened by all that, but I wasn't. I split from Birdie at that point.\"\n\nBut others in the crowd did not get off so easily. According to Kohler, \"People were beaten who had no part in it. I remember a very good-looking kid who said, 'What's going on? What's going on?' I said, 'Just stay out of the way.' He said, 'What's it all about?' 'It's a little too complicated.' About twenty minutes later, I saw him being dragged into a police car with blood all over him. He had just come down to find out what's going on, but it was indiscriminate. They lashed out at anybody, at anything.\"\n\nDanny Garvin also witnessed police brutality. So fascinated was he by the evening's events that at one point he went into an apartment building at 98 Grove Street that overlooked the most open area near the Stonewall Inn, the area where the triangular tip of Christopher Park narrows down to a daggerlike point and where Waverly Place juts west around the Northern Dispensary. A friend of his lived in the building, and Garvin thought that from there he could get a better view of all that was happening.\n\n\"I saw a bunch of guys on one side and the cops over there, and the cops with their feet spread apart and holding their billy clubs straight out. And these queens all of a sudden rolled up their pants legs into knickers, and they stood right in front of the cops. There must have been about ten cops one way and about twenty queens on the other side. They all put their arms around one another and started forming a kick line, and the cops just charged with the [nightsticks] and started smacking them in the heads, hitting people, pulling them into the cars. I just can't ever get that one sight out of my mind. The cops with the [nightsticks] and the kick line on the other side. It was the most amazing thing. What was more amazing was when the cops charged. That's when I think anger started. And the cops were used to us calling [them] Lily Law, so the cops were used to some kind of camp coming from us. And all of a sudden that kick line, which I guess was a spoof on their machismo, making fun of their authority. Yeah, I think that's when I felt rage. Because... people were getting smashed with bats. And for what? A kick line.\"\n\nJohn O'Brien was one of those the police were running after. He was in a group of about fifteen or twenty people who banded together and continually taunted the police into chasing them. O'Brien remembers that initially there were two different bands taunting the police, with O'Brien's group repeatedly running up and down Christopher Street from in front of the Stonewall Inn down to Waverly Place and then turning left on Waverly. O'Brien saw that among those who made up the band he had joined up with were some of the youths he and Bill Katzenberg had talked with about the need for gay people to organize. He quickly shared his knowledge of street-fighting tactics by shouting as he ran, \"No, not that way! Don't go up that street, because the cops can follow us. Go down this street and go around. Go opposite of the cars and go through the cars!\" O'Brien explains that \"as someone who had fought the police for a long time I knew that you do not help the police by running in the same direction as the traffic: you go the opposite so they can't get to you in the cars, so the police had to go on foot.\"\n\nThe protests continued into the night. Angry gay men set fires in trash cans and broke store windows and then desperately scoured for more objects to throw. Bob Kohler saw Craig Rodwell go by screaming, \"Gay power! Gay power!\" Occasionally Kohler and some of the street youths would take refuge in Christopher Park, because, for whatever reason, the police did not pursue people into the park that night.\n\nTommy Lanigan-Schmidt's experience must have been typical of many who did not fight but ran along with the crowds through the streets: \"I myself was more part of like a mob that was waving in and out like the ocean. I was part of a mob that had a kind of deep identity and was acting as one force.\" Tommy tended to stay with his friends Martin Boyce and Birdie. Tommy noticed that evening that time took on a special quality. \"[A riot] creates its own time, like weddings, funerals, wakes. A wedding or funeral has something that isn't the time of a clock ticking. It's a time of its own system. It also probably has a time like something of a dream, too.\" Interestingly, Michael Fader noticed the very same phenomenon: \"There was no sense of time; it was all ongoing.\"\n\nAlthough Danny Garvin had lost track of Keith Murdoch \"as soon as the bricks started flying,\" Garvin had continued to participate in the evening's action: \"People kept wanting to come back around to see what was happening. They would chase us up on the end [to] Seventh Avenue; we'd come back around on Tenth Street. They would push us down Christopher Street; people would just sneak around Gay Street and shoot back up onto Christopher.\"\n\nWhile some of the people in the crowd of protesters were having fun and others were frightened, some, such as Ed White's friend Charles Burch, found a certain joie de vivre and exaltation in fighting the TPF: \"They represented an invincible force, which was really fun, because I am enough of a masochist and a romantic that I love the idea of going up against people that you could never look bad losing to, because they were invincible. So you could just try to hurt them and not get hurt yourself if possible. And I developed, in that first encounter, a sense of street-fighting tactics, of how to harass and get away with it; of how to taunt and provoke a response and somehow try to not get hurt. And just years and years of all the resentments and humiliations and things that can come down on the head of a gay person were really\u2014I was really experiencing liberation and radicalization and everything, _bang!_ , right then and there.\"\n\nWhen Jerry Hoose arrived on Christopher Street that night, in response to the phone call from John Goodman, his first response was: \"Thank God!\" Hoose explains that \"I was a very angry person. I'd been waiting for this to happen. I knew it was going to happen. I said, 'Great!' I was the happiest person on the face of the earth; I'm sure I had tears of joy. And I was willing to do anything. I wanted to get into it. Everybody was angry. We were angry people, and we had a lot of reason to be angry. Lot of reason.\n\n\"It was just, to me, more of a feeling of joy, and I think it was to a lot of people. It was like, 'It's about time.' We had finally done something. I was a little sad because I didn't think that we were going in the right direction. I wanted to get the crowd to move down to City Hall and all that, but at least we had done something. And the thing I was most worried about was [that] this would be it. I said, 'This can't be it! This can't be it!' because we were mad. Everybody I knew was mad.\"\n\nO'Brien agrees, \"What was exciting was other people wanted to fight, too. What excited me was that I finally was not alone, that I had found my gay brothers. Until then I had been isolated and alone.\"\n\nEventually, the riot began to peter out, mainly because the rioters were tired or bored. But even as it ended, there was a palpable excitement in the air. William Wynkoop, who lived at 146 Waverly Place at the foot of Gay Street, had been awakened around two o'clock in the morning by the sound of people running. Hearing intermittent shouting as well, he had decided to go outside and investigate. After he had looked around awhile and stood in front of the Stonewall Inn talking with a witness about the evening's events, he noticed that the crowd was beginning to disperse: \"All through Sheridan Square there were people who had been in the crowd and watching what was going on in the bar, [and they] had moved away, I gather, and were standing in groups talking on Christopher Street, all around Sheridan Square, on Seventh Avenue, and over on Grove Street on the other side of Christopher Park, just standing around in groups talking. And here it was, the middle of the night!...They were... moving away because the excitement was over, but they were still so fascinated by it that they were stopping in groups and talking about it. I finally went to bed, probably about four. And when I left, there were still people standing in groups, talking.\"\n\nWhen Kevin Dunn had heard all the sirens, he moved away from the immediate scene, but remained in the area: \"I went back after when things had calmed. And the one thing I remember is that there were little groups of people, maybe like a handful or two on different corners, talking about what had happened and there was this very quiet kind of excitement and buzz in the air. You know, about [whispering], 'Boy, did you catch what happened?' \"\n\nIndeed, the feeling was so real that it could be felt by someone happening across the scene, even if that person was not gay. John Fisk, a heterosexual man who lived in the neighborhood and who had a job in the arts that ended late at night, had a ritual of walking to Smilers for a sandwich after work. As he walked to Smilers that evening, although Fisk did not see any fighting nor any police around, he did notice more than the usual number of people sitting on the stoops and noted an electricity in the air that he felt to be positive in some sense. When he went into Smilers, the counterman made him the largest sandwich he'd ever seen and handed it to him without a word but with a huge smile.\n\nDick Leitsch remembers that \"after a while, everybody thought, _Well, this is boring. All we're doing is running around the block, here. We've done it ten times now and it's dull. Let's do something else_. So we sort of vanished. I remember Christopher Street being so empty, except for the cops, and seeing very few civilians anywhere around. Then I remember the sky being very dark, and there being a terrific moon, and the Village being eerily quiet.\"\n\nNear dawn a number of the individuals who had witnessed the riot lingered on. Bob Kohler recalls, \"We were sitting across the street at the park, and you would see smoldering [garbage] baskets and the street was broken glass. The Stonewall window was smashed, and there were cops all standing around like storm troopers. You'd look a block away and you could see trash cans still smoldering.\n\n\"It was very surreal; it really was. This didn't look like the Village. It didn't look like Christopher Street. We were sitting there, and a couple of kids were bleeding. Nobody really knew what happened. It was like, 'Oh, wow. What was that all about?' It was that kind of thing. The kids had some makeshift bandages. None of the kids were hurt that badly. Other people did get hurt very badly. But that was the end.\"\n\nMartin Boyce's recollections of the end of the night portray a dawning sense of pride: \"Morning came on Christopher, and those broken windows and pieces of cloth inside and diamondlike glass all over. It was a riot, no doubt about it, and there were just exhausted survivors looking dazed. We knew what happened. We all did it. It was like, 'Oh.' Because, you know, the low skyline. There was a certain beauty to the aftermath of the riot. It was a very extraordinary kind of beauty, something to make art out of later. Not directly, but Tommy Schmidt, I'm sure, could see the beauty of shattered glass and certain kind of fag decorations being blown in the wind, by the window. It was obvious, at least to me, that a lot of people really were gay and, you know, this was our street.\"\n\n#\n\n# _\"Christopher Street Belongs to the Queens!\"_\n\n## S A T U R D A Y N I G H T\n\nChris Babick had gone out Friday night with Bob, the twenty-seven-year-old antique dealer he was dating, for Chinese food and had decided he didn't want to deal with the hassles he often ran into in bars as a seventeen-year-old who appeared even younger. Instead they had decided to just go home. Bob woke up first on Saturday and turned on the radio. Soon he was yelling at his still-asleep boyfriend, \"Chris! Chris, you're not going to believe what happened!\"\n\nChris tried hard to focus. \"What? What?\"\n\n\"They rioted. The police raided the Stonewall and they were rioting!\"\n\nChris could not believe his ears. \"And I\u2014it was incredible. Incredible. The fucking queens had rioted.\" Chris later admitted that he did not know what he would have done had he been at the Stonewall the first night, \"But I know what I did the rest of the weekend: Saturday and Sunday nights I was there. Of course Bob and I called our friends.\"\n\nThroughout the day, as the streets were swept and the smashed windows of the Stonewall Inn were boarded up and painted black, the unbelievable news was spreading rapidly through New York's gay grapevine. Many who heard about the insurrection were so excited that they headed down to the Stonewall Inn to see for themselves what had happened. Others sensed that there would have to be some kind of follow-up that night and wanted to be part of it.\n\nAs gay men and women trickled down to the Village, numerous slogans began to appear on the Stonewall Inn's boarded-up windows and the bar's brick facade (some of which were obviously written by the Stonewall Inn personnel), including: \"We are Open,\" \"There is all college boys and girls in here,\" \"Support Gay Power\u2014C'mon in, girls,\" \"Insp. Smyth looted our: money, jukebox, cigarette mach, telephones, safe, cash register, and the boys tips,\" \"THEY WANT US TO FIGHT FOR OUR COUNTRY [BUT] THEY INVADED OUR RIGHTS,\" \"GAY PROHIBITION CORUPT$ COP$ FEED$ MAFIA,\" \"How Can Inspector Smythe Drive a $15,000 Car on HIS Salary?\", \"Support Gay Power,\" and \"Legalize Gay bars and lick the problem.\" Also attached to the front of the club were two copies of the _Daily News_ story about Friday night's events, which struck _Voice_ reporter Lucian Truscott as odd, given the highly negative reporting.\n\nBy around nine o'clock in the evening, enough gay men and lesbians had shown up around the Stonewall Inn to form small groups on the sidewalks. As their numbers steadily grew, police officers in the area would not let them stand still but kept them moving, hoping to prevent a repeat of the previous night's events. But within two to three hours, those numbers had grown into at least a couple of thousand. One lesbian reported that so many people came on Saturday that \"all over the Village... hippies joined the queers & straight places turned gay for the week-end\u2014it was complete madness in NYC.\"\n\nThe Stonewall Inn was the initial focal point for the gathering of mostly gay men along with a few lesbians and a sprinkling of straight supporters. The crowd reached its greatest size late in the evening, probably between ten o'clock and midnight. After the protesters had gathered, they began to sing\u2014including the \"We are the Stonewall Girls\" tune used the night before\u2014and chant, facing off with police officers in front of the Stonewall Inn. The initial chants were slogans such as \"Gay power,\" \"We want freedom now,\" and \"Equality for homosexuals,\" but before long the rallying cries became more militant as the demonstrators shouted: \"Christopher Street belongs to the queens!\" and \"Liberate Christopher Street!\" Some protesters denounced the police for harassing homosexuals. As members of Mattachine\u2013New York and Craig Rodwell handed out literature and people talked excitedly about the meaning of the previous night's events, the area around Christopher Park took on the air somewhat of a political fair\u2014or even a political free-for-all. Edmund White wrote the best and fullest contemporary account of the scene:\n\nA mad left-wing group of straight kids called the Crazies is trying to organize the kids, pointing out that Lindsay is to blame (the Crazies want us to vote for Prococino [ _sic_ ], or \"Prosciutto\" as we call him). A Crazy girl launches into a tirade against Governor Rockefeller \"Whose Empire must be Destroyed.\" Straight Negro boys put their arms around me and say we're comrades (it's okay with me\u2014in fact great, the first camaraderie I've felt with blacks in years).\n\nTruscott described the crowd as being made up of \"onlookers, Eastsiders, and rough street people who saw a chance for a little action.\" Leitsch saw them as \"gay people from all over town, tourists, Villagers, and the idly curious,\" adding that while the crowd had been entirely gay in the beginning, as tourists came along they would inquire about what was going on and, when told that the protest was against the shutting down of a gay club, would become very supportive and either stay to watch or join. Leitsch saw one middle-aged woman, there with her husband, who, after telling a policeman that he should be ashamed of himself, shouted at him, \"Don't you know that these people have no place to go, and need places like that bar?\"\n\nTruscott recorded the raucous scene of speeches and chanting spiced by a lot of camp humor and openly gay behavior:\n\nHand-holding, kissing, and posing accented each of the cheers with a homosexual liberation that had appeared only fleetingly on the street before. One-liners were as practiced as if they had been used for years. \"I just want you all to know,\" quipped a platinum blonde with obvious glee, \"that sometimes being homosexual is a big pain in the ass.\" Another allowed as to how he had become a \"left-deviationist.\" And on and on.\n\nLittle wonder then that a sizable number of the somewhat older gay men who watched, including some who had returned from Fire Island just to see what was going on, \"had strained looks on their faces and talked in concerned whispers as they watched the up-and-coming generation take being gay and flaunt it before the masses.\" Not all those who took a dim view of Saturday night's events were conservative or older: the young radical Ronnie Di Brienza wrote that \"Saturday night was very poor. Too many people showed up looking for a carnival rather than a sincere protest. Queens were posing for pictures, slogans were being spouted out, but nothing really sincere happened in the way of protest.\"\n\nCraig Rodwell disagreed: \"Generally [on Saturday] it was an angry mood, a lot of chanting, a lot of hand-holding, a lot of assertion of being gay... it was a way of saying, 'We're tired of hiding, tired of leading two lives, tired of denying our basic identity.' A general assertion [by] gay people [of] newfound collective pride.\"\n\nChris Babick had a similar reaction: \"It was an absolutely exhilarating experience to know that... they had defied authority. And it was... like the beginning of a lesbian and gay value system. From going to places where you had to knock on a door and speak to someone through a peephole in order to get in. We were just out. We were in the streets. I mean, can you imagine? And when you went to the Stonewall\u2014people did hang out in [Christopher Park]... but you didn't make a lot of noise because the cops would harass you, beat you, whatever. So it was just a matter of two or three people at a time would walk up the street, ring the bell or knock on the door... and... disappear into this cavern, this place called the Stonewall in which there was lively, lively activity. But all of a sudden we were out on the streets. We were there. And I was there.... Here's the homosexual standing on the streets. And it was incredible. And... gay men and lesbians came from all over.\"\n\nWhile the protests continued outside the Stonewall Inn, the Mafia owners were doing their best to attract customers back inside. The owners seem to have realized that the entire context of running their particular business had changed, for not only had there been a riot the previous night, but also the allegations of their illegal activities were in the media and there was a police presence right outside their door. No wonder that when they reopened on Saturday they served only soft drinks, which they gave away.\n\nOutside the Stonewall Inn the chants were repeated louder and louder and more and more frequently. In the midst of this rising emotion, the club owners stepped outside and addressed the gay crowd: \"C'mon in and see what da pigs done to us. We're honest businessmen here. We're American-born boys. We run a legitimate joint here. There ain't nuttin bein' done wrong in dis place.\" In spite of the new sign on the door stating: \"This is a private club. Members only,\" the owners invited \"Everybody\" to \"come and see.\" But the crowd was growing restless.\n\nIt had also grown to a multitude. Craig Rodwell recalled that \"thousands of our people came down... all around 10th Street and all the way up Christopher and around the Square [and] Seventh Avenue.\" Dick Leitsch saw an old woman trying to make her way through the throngs who, while refusing the help of many who tried to assist her, was apparently bewildered and frightened by the unimaginable sight of masses of homosexuals openly gathering in the streets, for she trembled with obvious fear as she walked, all the while muttering to herself, \"It must be the full moon, it must be the full moon.\" The crowds came in spite of the terrific heat. While the previous day had been hot and humid, Saturday was worse: it would be the hottest June 28 in New York City history.\n\nWhen the sidewalks could no longer contain the crowds, people started spilling over into the streets. It was at this point, Rodwell recalls, that \"we decided to block off Christopher Street.\"\n\nRodwell and hundreds of others chose the beginning of Christopher Street at Greenwich Avenue as the place to stop traffic simply because that was where most vehicles entered Christopher Street. Both Rodwell and his lover, Fred Sargeant, say the decision was made to turn Christopher Street into a gay street by saying that no straight people were allowed on the street: taxis and buses would not be admitted unless they were carrying gay people, a turning of the tables intended to make heterosexual people think twice about the nature of discrimination based on sexual orientation and a militant statement that gay people were entitled to something of their own: if America was going to force lesbians and gay men into ghettos, then the ghettos' inhabitants would insist on running them.\n\nApparently the blockade began not so much as an attempt to stop traffic as to harass the occupants of vehicles who were not gay or who would not indicate support for the demonstrations. Rodwell recalled that \"cars that came through and buses, we just rocked them back and forth.\" Leitsch witnessed a showdown between the crowd and a city bus:\n\nA bus driver blew his horn at the meeting, and someone shouted, \"Stop the Bus!\" The crowd surged out into the street and blocked the progress of the bus. As the driver inched ahead, someone ripped off an advertising card and blocked the windshield with it. The crowd beat on the sides of the bus and shouted \"Christopher Street belongs to the queens!\" and \"Liberate the street.\"\n\nLeitsch reports that while the police intervened and were able to persuade the crowd to let the bus pass, the demonstrators immediately came up with a new tactic to slow down the traffic: a human chain was formed across the street and cars were only let through one at a time.\n\nWhile the demonstrators were serious about their intent, an incident with a taxi driver was a warning that they needed to exercise some caution. Unaware of what was happening, a taxicab turned onto Christopher Street from Greenwich Avenue and immediately was caught up in the crowd, the demonstrators apparently not realizing that the challenge to them was unintentional. As the crowd started rocking the taxi back and forth, Rodwell looked in the taxi and saw that both the passengers in the backseat and the cabdriver were terrified, \"scared out of their skulls.\" It seemed to Rodwell and others that the driver was having a heart attack, so a number of demonstrators joined arms to protect the taxi, and it backed up and out onto Greenwich Avenue. Bob Kohler and Craig Rodwell would later hear that the taxi driver died, apparently the only fatality from the riots.\n\nIn an apparently separate incident with a taxicab witnessed by Jamake Highwater, when the cabdriver turned into the crowd, demonstrators banged in the sides of the taxi, jumped on the cab's hood, and paraded on its top. When the driver got out and attacked some members of the crowd, \"about fifteen jumped him. Meanwhile, about 15 others were trying to let the passengers get to freedom.\"\n\nAround this same time, a little farther west, Rodwell saw a barrage of bottles being thrown, apparently by crowds gathered on the Grove Street side of Christopher Park at the police on the other side. One Christopher Street merchant stood in her shop's doorway and berated the police, telling them to behave themselves. Whenever the police headed toward her, she ran into her shop and locked the door. As some of the policemen began acting nasty toward members of the crowd, one youth found garbage can lids and threw them discus style so that they bounced \"neatly off\" the cops' helmets.\n\nRodwell saw this period of time on Saturday night as similar to the time the previous evening between the lesbian resisting arrest and the crowd trying to break back into the Stonewall Inn: so much was being done simultaneously by so many different people that there is no way any one person could have taken it all in. Although the chronology of events is more straightforward on Saturday night than it was on Friday night, there were many more participants spread over a larger area on the second night. If on the previous night gay people had been angry in reaction to the police raid, tonight they were on the offensive. In claiming Christopher Street for their own, they were determined to remove the police and any other hostile parties from it... or at least make it very uncomfortable for them to hold on to it, like territory that an army wins but can only occupy with difficulty against a hostile populace. Rodwell understood it this way: \"[Saturday night] was the first time in history that there was a general assertion of anger by gay people. A public assertion of real anger that was just electric. And even the old queens just came down to walk around the block to see what was going on. They were heroes in a sense, too. Just the fact that they came down. Being there, just standing there watching, they added to the sheer magnitude of the numbers of people there, which was very, very impressive.\"\n\nOne middle-aged gay man who came to see the demonstrators was Dr. Howard Brown, the former chief health officer of New York City, who had resigned from the Lindsay administration in 1968. Typical of many successful gay men of his generation, he was very concerned about passing for straight. He recalled his reaction to stereotypical gay men when, in his capacity as night mayor, a new office created by Lindsay to make the city more responsive to citizens, he had been given a tour of New York City's prison, the Tombs. There he had been shown the section reserved for homosexual prisoners: \"Almost all the men in the crowded cells were demonstrably effeminate. I could not identify with them, and I froze, too terrified to ask any questions about their treatment.\" Over the weekend the uproar from the riots was loud enough that, even though his apartment was a four-minute walk away, with his windows open he could hear the shouting. Intrigued, he left his apartment and headed for the Stonewall Inn. He found that the demonstrators:\n\nwere like the homosexuals I had seen in the Tombs\u2014most of them obviously poor, most of them the sort of limp-wristed, shabby, or gaudy gays that send a shiver of dread down the spines of homosexuals who hope to pass as straight. I could not have felt more remote from them. And yet, at the same time, the scene brought to mind every civil rights struggle I had ever witnessed or participated in.\n\nBy now, fires were again being set in trash cans as they had been the night before. Witnesses report seeing blazes set up and down the street as if in ancient times when bonfires, prepared in advance on mountaintops, would be lit to relay important news over great distances.\n\nFire from another source was also being used to send signals that night. As Doric Wilson stood on the street Saturday night, he looked up toward The Corner and saw red sparks falling from on high, through the night air, as in a gentle rainfall. The sparks were coming from New York City's women's prison, the House of Detention\u2014usually referred to as the House of D\u2014located at the intersection of Greenwich Avenue and Christopher Street. It was a prison with a lot of black and Latina prisoners, many of whom were lesbians. The prisoners were setting toilet paper on fire and dropping it from their cell windows to show their support for the rioters. Chris Babick recalls \"that whole week the women were screaming, cheering us on.... The whole jail, it seemed like, was alive with people, with activity, because the streets were alive with activity. Everything vibrated.\"\n\nIndeed, the crowd was so whipped up with anger that the police became targets. Craig Rodwell was only six feet from an empty squad car with three policemen standing nearby when he saw Marsha Johnson climb to the top of a lamppost and drop a bag containing a heavy object on the car's windshield, shattering it. After the windshield broke, the police immediately jumped into the car but then reached out and grabbed the nearest person they could\u2014a man who had nothing to do with the assault on the car\u2014pulled him into the squad car, and drove off, beating their hapless victim. As Rodwell lamented, \"It was just the nearest faggot. You know, 'We'll teach you,' kind of thing.\" Leitsch witnessed a similar incident in which a police car came up Waverly Place and stopped at the intersection of Christopher Street. The car's occupants sat and stared angrily at the crowd until a concrete block landed loudly on the car's hood. The crowd pulled away and \"then, as one person... surged forward and surrounded the car, beating on it with fists and dancing atop it.\" Soon after the police inside radioed for help, the crowd permitted the vehicle to leave.\n\nAt one point in the evening, Leitsch saw someone attack an officer in a police car:\n\nAnother car, bearing a fat, gouty-looking cop with many pounds of gilt braid, chauffeured by a cute young cop came through. The fat cop looked for all the world like a slave-owner surveying the plantation, and someone tossed a sack of wet garbage through the car window and right on his face. The bag broke and soggy coffee grounds dripped down the lined face, which never lost its \"screw you\" look.\n\nIn a showdown with a bus, possibly the same one described earlier, the police persuaded the crowd to pull back but only to have themselves become the next victims of the enraged citizenry: \"They descended onto the prowl car. They first knocked off the flashing red light. Then they started shaking the squad car sideways as if to tip it over.\"\n\nAccording to _The New York Times_ , the Sixth Precinct had been unable to control the situation and so the TPF were called in for the second night in a row, but according to Dick Leitsch, the Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Ninth precincts had already brought in \"a hundred or so cops who had no hope of controlling the crowd of nearly two thousand people in the streets\" and it was only then that the TPF was called in.\n\nIt was approximately 2:15 A.M. when the TPF units assigned to the East Village arrived in the West Village. About 150 TPF officers arrived, with around one hundred of them getting out at The Corner while another fifty were dropped off at Seventh Avenue South and Christopher Street.\n\nAs the TPF met with a number of high-ranking police officers at Greenwich Avenue and Christopher Street, the crowd sporadically tossed beer cans at their vans and cars. Without any warning, two police officers rushed into the crowd, plucked a youth from it at random\u2014one who, according to Leitsch, \"had done absolutely nothing\"\u2014and carried him off to a patrol wagon. As they did so, while the two arresting officers still held the young man, four other police officers began to pound the boy's face, stomach, and genitals with nightsticks. A \"high shrill voice\" yelled, \"Save our sister!\" and there was a heavy pause, during which, Leitsch recounts, \"the 'butch' looking 'numbers' looked distracted.\" Then \"momentarily, fifty or more homosexuals who would have to be described as 'nelly,' rushed the cops and took the boy back into the crowd.\" Like the Red Sea, which parted to let the Hebrews escape Pharaoh's army only to then close itself against that same army, the queens \"formed a solid front and refused to let the cops into the crowd to regain their prisoner, letting the cops hit them with their sticks, rather than let them through.\"\n\nThe police top brass, having finished their strategic consultations, had the TPF form themselves into flying wedges as they had done the night before. The TPF then marched up and down Greenwich Avenue, forcing parts of the crowd onto 10th Street and others onto Sixth Avenue, although from Sixth Avenue the crowds simply came back south onto Christopher Street. The TPF next marched up and down Greenwich Avenue but this time linked their arms, and as they came to a side street those on the ends of the lines broke off and \"chased demonstrators down the side streets and away from the center of the action.\"\n\nHaving cleared Greenwich Avenue, the TPF focused on opening up Christopher Street between Greenwich Avenue and Seventh Avenue South. It so happened that a number of the young men who had been hanging out in front of the Stonewall Inn had finally grown bored and decided to head to The Corner to see what was happening there when they ran right into the TPF heading toward them. As the TPF advanced, they were a formidable sight. Almost three decades later, Dick Leitsch could still recall the TPF's appearance as they deployed that night on Christopher Street: \"They formed a phalanx in the Greek style. They lined up, shoulder to shoulder, across Christopher Street, and they had big, plastic shields that were half-circles about four feet tall. They covered from the crotch to the top of the head, so they would protect their groin and head from bullets or bricks thrown at them. The shields were semicircular and had handles, and they were inside this half a tube. They also had riot helmets and billy sticks. So they formed this shoulder-to-shoulder phalanx across Christopher Street and then just marched, very slowly\u2014very slowly, not rushing or anything\u2014down the street. It was a solid wall.\" Charles Burch recalls the impressive sight the TPF made when deployed in line formation: \"There was this huge phalanx of blue-helmeted cops with shields, and the light reflecting from their blue plastic-ness [made] an aura of silvery sheen over them.\"\n\nThe TPF succeeded in sweeping the crowd down Christopher Street as far as Waverly Place, where the riot police stopped, with the kids who had just before been hanging out by the Stonewall Inn at the head of the crowd. As they had the previous night, the youths again formed a chorus line and started singing and dancing right in front of the TPF.\n\nAs Robert Bryan watched the face-off between the men in the kick line and the TPF, he was amazed by the gay youths' courage. \"The queens\u2014they were extremely effeminate young men\u2014formed this kicking line all across Christopher Street, and started to do a Rockettes kick. And singing, 'We're the Stonewall Girls, we wear our hair in curls, we don't wear underwear..., ' as it went. And the police started moving ahead, moving towards them.\" The TPF advanced at a slow and steady pace, inching forward. \"And the queens did not move; they just continued to kick and to sing as the police just moved closer and closer and closer; and you just wondered how long are they going to keep this up before they break and run? The police got closer and closer to them with their clubs and their helmets and their riot gear and the whole thing; and I thought it was just very inspiring, their bravery, like Bunker Hill or 'Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes.' They were waiting until the very last minute, and it wasn't until the police were eight feet away from them that the crowd finally broke and ran.\"\n\nIronically, the TPF's psychology of using machismo to try to intimidate protesters whom society had branded as deficient in masculinity\u2014and hence courage\u2014ultimately raised the question of who, indeed, was braver: the TPF hiding behind their shields and helmets, equipped with guns and billy clubs, with all the force of the law and the approval of society behind them, or the gay men\u2014with most of those in the kick line being effeminate to some degree\u2014the objects of society's scorn and ridicule, offering their vulnerable bodies as targets and armed with nothing more than their intelligence and humor?\n\nWhen the protesters finally did run, they merely repeated their tactic from the night before: as the TPF advanced up along Christopher Park toward Seventh Avenue South with the goal of clearing all of Christopher Street, the protesters turned southeast on Waverly, went up Gay Street, and again came out behind the TPF on Christopher Street forming a chorus line, all the while screaming and taunting the TPF.\n\nThe guerrilla tactic of using the Village's many side streets to circumvent the police tactics for clearing the streets with sweeps of the TPF was used by the protesters over and over again, as was the kick-line routine. And just as had happened when the \"nelly\" men rescued a gay man from the clutches of the TPF, Leitsch noted that most of the remarkable examples of physical courage he saw during the riots were done by the more effeminate men, the real \"queens\":\n\nIt was an interesting sidelight on the demonstrations that those usually put down as \"sissies\" or \"swishes\" showed the most courage and sense during the action.... The most striking feature of the rioting was that it was led, and featured as participants, \"queens,\" not \"homosexuals.\" \"Homosexuals\" have been sitting back and taking whatever the Establishment handed out; the \"queens\" were having none of that. The \"butch\" numbers who were around the area and who participated peripherally in the action remained for the most part in the background. It was the \"queens\" who scored the points and proved that they were not going to tolerate any more harassment or abuse.... Their bravery and daring saved many people from being hurt, and their sense of humor and \"camp\" helped keep the crowds from getting nasty or too violent.\n\nThis assertion by Leitsch is corroborated by a memory of Bob Kohler's: a \"plea scrawled on the sidewalk in front of the Stonewall: BUTCHES, WHERE ARE YOU NOW THAT WE NEED YOU?\"\n\nConventionally masculine men were involved in the fighting, but in light of Leitsch's, Kohler's, and other testimony, it seems irrefutable that a highly disproportionate amount of the physical courage displayed during the riots came from the more effeminate men in the crowd.\n\nThe one portion of the Village that the police could close without too much difficulty was the very focus of the protest: the block the Stonewall Inn was on. Before the night was over, the police closed off the block, allowing no one to enter Christopher Park, Christopher Street between Waverly Place and Seventh Avenue South, or Grove Street from either end of the south side of Christopher Park. Shutting down what New Yorkers refer to as Sheridan Square was a victory for the police, but only a partial one, for several reasons. First, there were still plenty of gay people out on the streets challenging the police, who had seized only one small piece of the contested area, enlarged significantly since the previous night. Second, the closing came at an economic price to a number of nongay businesses. Truscott noted the loss of Saturday night business \"even at the straight Lion's Head and 55 [the bar next to the Lion's Head at 55 Christopher Street].\" Another _Voice_ columnist, Walter Troy Spencer, bemoaned that one bar owner on Christopher Street (no doubt one of these same two bars) lost $500 in one evening \"of the indirect embargo.\" Keeping the ghetto's occupants under even partial control for one evening on one block could be expensive. Indeed, things were so out of hand that on the other side of Seventh Avenue South, the United Cigar Store, Riker's restaurant, and Smilers Deli all closed down of their own volition.\n\nThe TPF continued to fight to regain control of other streets beyond the Christopher Park area as the same cat-and-mouse game between police and protesters of the night before was reenacted, but this time with more police officers, more rioters, and more anger on both sides. Not surprisingly, the TPF was brutal. Leitsch simply wrote: \"[T]he TPF again lived up to its reputation for violence and brutality.\" A letter to _The Village Voice_ written by Kevin Liscoe complained that he had \"witnessed many senseless brutalities which there could be no justification for. One guy walking on Sheridan Square across from the disturbance was with his chick (obviously not into it) when a TPF came from behind and just split his head open with his club.\" Truscott reported witnessing one person getting a busted head at or near Sheridan Square and noted that \"the cops amused themselves by arbitrarily breaking up small groups of people up and down the avenue.\"\n\nIn spite of the TPF's numbers and superior equipment, the crowds of protesters were not cowed and made full use of their wit, anger, and resourcefulness in fighting the TPF. As the TPF moved through the streets, they swung their nightsticks with abandon, using them, Leitsch noted, like swords. But when one police officer grabbed \"a wild Puerto Rican queen\" and raised his arm to club him, the queen suddenly asked the cop, \"How'd you like a big Spanish dick up your little Irish ass?\" The officer was so startled he stopped his nightstick in midswing and the man escaped. On another occasion two police officers were chasing a crowd of a hundred or more demonstrators down Waverly Place when one of the demonstrators suddenly realized that they outnumbered the police. He immediately shouted that they should catch the police, rip their clothes off, and screw them on the spot. As the crowd turned on them, the police quickly reversed themselves and ran for blocks with the angry crowd in hot pursuit, yelling, \"Catch them! Fuck them!\"\n\nAmid all these sorties and skirmishes between protesters and the police, Leitsch again spotted the middle-aged woman he had seen several hours earlier telling a police officer that he should be ashamed of himself. This time she and her husband and two other heterosexual couples were in the midst of a large group of homosexuals trying to escape the TPF as they chased them with nightsticks.\n\nStill, with between two and three hundred police on the scene, most of them heavily armed, the streets were reopened and most of the crowds dispersed. It had taken a major deployment of New York City's Finest to wrest control of a small section of the city back from its homosexual citizenry. For approximately two hours Christopher Street had indeed belonged to the \"queens.\"\n\nYet this still was not the end of the evening. While the TPF had restored order by 2:30 A.M., when the bars closed at 3:00 A.M. customers from the Village's many gay bars came by to see what was going on. According to _The New York Times_ , the abundance of helmeted police made the crowd even angrier than the previous night's raid on the Stonewall Inn had, and the new arrivals were quickly organized into a second attempt to \"liberate Christopher Street.\" Accounts of this attempt are extremely sketchy, apparently because with such a heavy police presence the attempt was short-lived. Still, even then, a group of the new protesters broke off and attempted to take over the IND subway line at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Waverly Place. There was a bit of a confusion during which the police tried to figure out if they could enter an area controlled by the Transit Police. After the bureaucratic and political points had been discussed, it was decided that they could, and they entered the station and chased the demonstrators out.\n\nIt was not until around 3:30 A.M. that the police finally succeeded in dispersing all of the crowds. The TPF remained on the scene for some time later. It is even debatable the extent to which the clearing of the streets meant a victory for the police. According to Leitsch, many men had taken advantage of the heavy police presence in the heart of the Village to go to the docks for some recreational sex. Leitsch writes: \"The docks were packed tight with homosexuals having the times of their lives. After all, everything was perfectly 'safe'\u2014all the cops were on 'The Corner'!\"\n\n#\n\n# \"They've Lost That Wounded Look\"\n\n## S U N D A Y\u2013W E D N E S D A Y\n\nAs New Yorkers walked through the Christopher Park area of Greenwich Village on Sunday, teams of gay people\u2014each consisting of one man and one woman\u2014passed out a flyer headlined \"Get the Mafia and the Cops Out of Gay Bars.\" Issued in the name of the Homophile Youth Movement, the typed document proclaimed that \"the nights of Friday, June 27, 1969, and Saturday, June 28, 1969, will go down in history as the first time that thousands of Homosexual men and women went out into the streets to protest the intolerable situation which has existed in New York City for many years\u2014namely, the Mafia (or syndicate) control of this city's Gay bars in collusion with certain elements in the Police Dept. Of the City of New York.\" Written by Craig Rodwell, the flyer reasoned that since January 1968, when Judge Keating had ruled that even close dancing between homosexuals was legal, there was \" _nothing illegal, per se, about a Gay bar_.\" The flyer therefore urged gay businessmen to open legal bars that would not overcharge and that would have \"a healthy social atmosphere.\" It also suggested that homosexual men and women \"boycott places like the Stonewall,\" in order to \"get criminal elements out of\" gay bars, and write Mayor Lindsay to demand \"a thorough investigation and effective action to correct this intolerable situation.\"\n\nBy Sunday it indeed seemed justifiable to hail the two previous nights as historic. Rodwell recalls that even after the first night, \"all kinds of people [were] getting together to discuss what are we going to do, because everybody sensed that nothing's going to be the same after this. We just knew. I'm sure there were some people there that were saying, 'Oh, I don't want to get involved in this,' and ran away, but for those of us that were there\u2014and there were many thousands of us\u2014we sensed that it was a moment in history. There was a lot of very animated talks all over the place. 'What's going to happen now? What are we going to do?' \" Rodwell was not alone in sensing the importance of events: his estranged lover, Dick Leitsch, writing on behalf of Mattachine\u2013New York titled his account of the uprising: \"The Hairpin Drop Heard Around the World,\" _dropping a hairpin_ being homosexual argot from the era for dropping a hint that one is gay.\n\nSunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights remained relatively calm due to the police having learned several lessons from the first two nights of the riots: that in the aftermath of Friday night's raid it would take many more police officers than were initially deployed on Saturday to discourage gay men and women and their allies from attempting to seize the area around the Stonewall, which the homosexual citizens saw as their turf; that the police needed to arrive early in large numbers to preempt the gay citizenry from seizing the initiative; and that such a maneuver must be executed in a low-key manner or their mere presence might precipitate the outbreaks they were hoping to end. (At least the police used this approach on Sunday night and it worked.) The second factor working in the police's favor was that the weekend had passed. Friday and Saturday nights' events had begun late and lasted until the early morning, something most people could not do on an evening before a workday, especially if they had already done so on the previous night or two. Thirdly, some of the demonstrators felt that they had already made their point and nothing more was to be gained by again repeating what was becoming a predictable scenario. Was it worth risking more injuries and arrests, as well as damage to the neighborhood that gay people were fighting to claim as their own?\n\nStill, Rodwell and other activists felt that the protests must continue as long as possible to try to ensure that lesbians and gay men would be heard at last, that the events of the last two days would have some kind of lasting result and not be seen as a fluke.\n\nMattachine\u2013New York, however, after talking to the mayor's office and the police, joined police efforts to stop the protests. A prominent sign went up on Sunday afternoon on the front of the Stonewall Inn's east window:\n\nWE HOMOSEXUALS PLEAD WITH  \nOUR PEOPLE TO PLEASE HELP  \nMAINTAIN PEACEFUL AND QUIET  \nCONDUCT ON THE STREETS OF  \nTHE VILLAGE\u2014MATTACHINE\n\nMattachine officials came to the Stonewall Inn and talked to people who showed up in an effort to discourage them from protesting.\n\nThese attempts to stop the protesters did not work. On Sunday night gay men again turned out in significant numbers on Christopher Street, including a sizable leather contingent. Truscott condescendingly wrote that \"Sunday night was a time for watching and rapping. Gone were the 'gay power' chants of Saturday, but not the new and open brand of exhibitionism. Steps, curbs, and the park provided props for what amounted to the Sunday fag follies as returning stars from the previous night's performances stopped by to close the show for the weekend.\" There were fewer protesters, however, than there had been on the previous two nights, and the police presence was very high. Dick Leitsch wrote that \"there were never enough people to outnumber the large squads of cops milling about\" and that \"all the cops in town seemed to be near The Corner again.\" Truscott felt that \"it was slow going.\" _The Berkeley Barb_ reported that on Sunday \"the word passed for another gay demonstration. Help was expected from the SDS, but they never showed up.\"\n\nNonetheless, there were small acts of resistance by gay people\u2014beyond demonstrating against the police publicly for the third day in a row, which was remarkable in itself: several gay youths took daring advantage of the heavy police presence in the Christopher Street area to make a guerrilla raid on the Sixth Precinct's headquarters. They went to the police station and slapped Day-Glo blue and fuschia bumper stickers reading \"Equality for Homosexuals\" on the police cars, a patrol wagon, and the personal cars of cops who had left their vehicles parked while on duty. Whether any police officers who drove such subverted cars home unawares were able to laugh about it is unknown, but there is evidence that at least some of the police force appreciated the use of humor by New York's gay populace during the Stonewall Riots. A member of Mattachine\u2013New York who was detained by the police reported overhearing the following exchange between two police officers:\n\nOne [cop] said he'd enjoyed the fracas. \"Them queers have a good sense of humor and really had a good time,\" he said. His \"buddy\" protested: \"Aw, they're sick. I like nigger riots better because there's more action, but you can't beat up a fairy. They ain't mean like blacks, they're sick. But you can't hit a sick man.\"\n\nIndeed, there is good evidence that after two days the police had finally learned something about queer community relations: With the Stonewall still open as a \"free store,\" the police were \"begging\" homosexuals to go inside the club, a rich irony that Dick Leitsch noted with glee. And when the TPF made a sweep of the area to clear it, they did so in a nonconfrontational way, not wearing their helmets and in a \"controlled and very cool\" manner.\n\nLucian Truscott was standing in front of the United Cigar Store on Seventh Avenue South watching things wind down when he ran into Taylor Mead, an avant-garde film and literary figure. They stood on the corner and had been talking things over for a while when up walked Allen Ginsberg. Ginsberg had heard about the \"Stonewall battle\" the previous day and had decided to drop by to see what was going on and \"to show the colors.\"\n\nSome gay activists happened by and filled Mead and Ginsberg in on the previous two nights' events, to which Ginsberg reacted enthusiastically: \"Gay power! Isn't that great! We're one of the largest minorities in the country\u2014ten percent, you know. It's about time we did something to assert ourselves.\" A sudden realization seemed to come over Ginsberg, who told Truscott, \"You know, I've never been in there,\" and decided on the spot to visit the Stonewall Inn. As Ginsberg proceeded toward the Stonewall, he practiced his lifelong belief in peace, shaped by his pilgrimage to India, where he had studied Hindu meditation and chanting techniques for calming and quieting the mind. As he walked over he held up the first two fingers of his hand in the V shape used to signify peace in the late 1960s and greeted the members of the TPF not with the epithet \"pig\" but by saying \"hello\" to them. Truscott noted that \"it was a relief and a kind of joy to see him on the street. He lent an extra umbrella of serenity to the scene with his laughter and quiet commentary on consciousness, 'gay power' as a new movement, and the various implications of what had happened.\"\n\nWhen Truscott entered the Stonewall Inn with Ginsberg, the poet immediately began to bounce and dance \"wherever he moved.\" This was also the first time Truscott had been inside the club, and he noted that rock music was being played from speakers placed all around the room, suggesting that a sound system had been brought in, necessitated because the police had destroyed the jukeboxes. Truscott thought that the club looked like \"a Hollywood set of a gay bar.\"\n\nTruscott recounts that Ginsberg \"was real excited by it all. I mean, he was just bouncing up and down with glee. He just thought it was great that all these kids had stood up to the police and that there was a revolution happening. I mean, that's the way he was behaving. And when we went into the Stonewall, he went and danced with a whole bunch of kids.\"\n\nAfter about an hour, Ginsberg and Truscott left the Stonewall Inn and Ginsberg headed toward Manhattan's Lower East Side. As Truscott walked with him, Ginsberg explained what homosexual experience used to be like, drawing the contrast with the poet's experience that evening, and concluded, \"You know, the guys there were so beautiful\u2014they've lost that wounded look that fags all had ten years ago.\"\n\nThe two men parted company at Cooper Square. Ginsberg waved to Truscott and yelled, \"Defend the fairies!\" as Truscott watched him \"bounce\" across the square.\n\nGinsberg's characterization of the change the Stonewall Riots had brought about was so perceptive that when the early gay activist Allen Young interviewed Ginsberg for the literary magazine _Gay Sunshine_ , the only question that Young asked him about Stonewall concerned the circumstances behind Allen's statement. Ginsberg replied:\n\nI wasn't there at the riot. I heard about it, and I went down the next night to the Stonewall to show the colors. A crowd was there, and the place was open. So I said, the best thing I can do is to go in; the worst that can happen is I'll calm the scene. They're not going to attack them when I'm there. I'll just start a big Om.\n\nI didn't relate to the violent part. The trashing part I thought was bitchy, unnecessary, hysterical. But, on the other hand, there was this image that everybody wanted to make that they could beat up the police, which apparently they managed to do. It was so funny as an image that it was hard to disapprove of, even though it involved a little violence.\n\nAlthough Ginsberg's reply to Young is the lengthiest commentary on the riots he ever provided to an interviewer, it did not speak directly to the question about the loss of the \"wounded look.\" Truscott, the person to whom Ginsberg made the comment, thinks he understands what inspired the poet. Pointing out that Allen did not generally hang out in gay bars and using the example of the jubilant looks on the faces of the street youths in the famous Fred McDarrah photographs of the rioters, Truscott explains that \"I think his idea of what a gay bar was at that time was kind of like Julius': a bunch of middle-aged men, standing around in crew-necked sweaters having a drink. What happened was he got to see this real mixed population of queens and drag queens and these young street kids, and some of them were doubtlessly hustlers. All of them were young and had long hair. I mean, this doesn't look like a bunch of middle-aged, unhappy gay men at Julius'. And that's what he was responding to: all these sort of happy-go-lucky young guys, having a good time being gay, and not unhappy about it and not unproud about it and everything. That's what he was responding to, and that's why he said they've lost that wounded look. And that was the truth. Look at the pictures. You can see it on everybody's faces.\"\n\nGinsberg later said about the Stonewall Riots: \"All of a sudden at the height of the antiwar movement, at the height of the black liberation movement, after the triumph of liberation of the word [the end of print censorship], all of a sudden the cops were in there again trying to bust some guys... right in the center of Sheridan Square, the most bohemian traditional place in Greenwich Village!\"\n\nIf Sunday night was \"slow,\" then Monday and Tuesday nights were practically dead. In fact, there is only one contemporary account of those nights, that written by Dick Leitsch for the _New York Mattachine Newsletter_. According to him, while both nights were calm because few gay people were on the streets, by this time both the police and the protesters had become short-tempered. One police officer tried to pick a fight with passing gay men by repeatedly challenging them, saying, \"Start something, faggot; just start something. I'd like to break your ass wide open.\" When one man finally turned and said, \"What a Freudian comment, Officer!\" the cop attacked the man and arrested him, placing him in a patrol wagon to be taken to jail.\n\nWhile Leitsch says that some of the police did maintain \"enormous 'cool,' \" it is clear that others tried to provoke violence, apparently because of their recent humiliations. Leitsch saw two officers in a patrol car repeatedly drive around the area, shouting obscenities at passersby.\n\nHowever, if some police sought to cause trouble, they were not the only ones: so did some gay men. A cop, stationed at the corner of Waverly Place and Christopher Street, made a show of swinging his nightstick while tossing insults at pedestrians. He made too inviting a target for one subversive to resist. A man Leitsch describes as \"[a] wildly 'fem' queen,\" firecracker at the ready, snuck up behind the unsuspecting pillar of society, lit the explosive, and dropped it between the officer's feet. Leitsch describes the result: \"It exploded and he jumped into the air in a leap that Villella would have envied, landing on a part of his anatomy that one queen called a 'money-maker.' He got up screaming like a peasant woman and swinging his stick.\" When the same man tossed another firecracker at the policeman, a general fight broke out in which members of the crowd managed to steal the badge off the policeman's shirt.\n\nSome gay men were so angry that militancy at times overlapped into aggressiveness. Journalist Tom Burke witnessed an exchange at Waverly Place between a youth and a Village resident who walked up and down the street trying to calm the gay crowd, reassuring them that the heterosexual residents sympathized with \"the oppressed homosexual.\" The portly older man in a white shirt tried to reason with a youth with long red hair wearing an acid-green tank top. The youth was having none of it.\n\n\"The hell you say! You don't impress me,\" the youth shouted. \"You are straight and you are my enemy! Don't give me that phoney liberal bull. _You_ made the laws. Nixon's silent army!\" As onlookers laughed, the young man leaned in close to the older one, the youth's face now deep red. \"Now we are gonna get _you!_ \"\n\nThe older man's face turned ashen, and Burke could tell he wanted to flee but was too frightened of what the young man might do.\n\n\"I was in Vietnam, man, how does that grab you? Huh? Huh? And, man, I'll screw your daughter. _But I'll screw your son first!_ \"\n\nOn Wednesday night the riots came back full force. The reason for the sudden resurgence was twofold. The more obvious cause was the appearance of _The Village Voice_ on Wednesday evening, which gave very prominent play to Truscott's and Smith's accounts of the uprising. Dominating the front page, the two stories were run next to each other along with two photographs by Fred McDarrah, one showing some of the rioters and the other the graffiti written on the Stonewall Inn's boarded-up windows. While the stories may have enticed some curious citizens who had not yet heard of the riots to the Christopher Park area to see what was transpiring, the main effect of these accounts was to inflame the gay populace. While Smith and Truscott had done a good job of reporting the rebellion, the tone of Truscott's article\u2014while often sympathetic and objective\u2014was at times one of derision and insensitivity, with phrases like \"Limp wrists,\" \"the Sunday fag follies,\" and \"gay cheerleaders.\" That Smith's article was less offensive than Truscott's, with only two derogatory expressions (the phrase \"dancing faggots\" and the word \"dyke\"), was lost on the readers who, understandably, lumped the two articles together as one. While there was a lot of purposefully effeminate behavior on the part of some in the crowd, the two articles not only focused on this behavior but also ignored the courage shown by conventionally masculine gay men. (The only woman mentioned in the two articles is the lesbian resisting arrest, characterized by both men with the same single word _dyke_ ). Edmund White attributed the writers' tone to their wanting to assure \"readers that the authors are straight.\" Not only did _Voice_ reportage enrage the gay population; it also came quite close to consuming _The Voice_ itself in flames, when a group of gay people considered setting fire to _The Voice_ 's office that night. The anger that led to this discussion of whether to burn down the _Voice_ office was apparently caused by not only the reporting on the riots but also _The Voice_ 's various past slights toward gay men and lesbians. Leitsch wrote: \"That paper's editorial policy has long infuriated most homosexuals, as the paper pretends to be 'liberal' and avant-garde, but actually is conservative and uptight about homosexuality.\" Leitsch let it be known that he held _The Voice_ responsible to a large degree for the flaring up of the rioting that he and others in the Mattachine Society were trying to quell: \"They published two long 'put down' articles about the Christopher Street incidents which contributed heavily to the anger that incited the Wednesday rioting after two relatively peaceful days.\"\n\nThe second reason that rioting resumed in full force on Wednesday is because various radical Left groups came to protest. Leitsch, a man whose politics were eclectic, combining views that ranged from very progressive to those more typically held by the Right, saw the radical Left groups as \"exploiters [who] had moved in and were using the gay power movement for their own ends.\"\n\nWhile Kohler, a leftist, felt less negative about the influx of nongay Left groups, his reading of the crowd's composition and its significance is similar to Leitsch's:\n\n\"A lot of people kept coming down, asking what happened, asking the kids, me, anybody that was around [for] information. You had a lot of curiosity seekers. Because something had happened. Everybody was aware that there was a riot, so a lot of people had questions.\n\n\"You had, for lack of a better word, _provocateurs_ who were seeing an incident that could be used for the good of their movement or a different movement or a coalition of movements. This was one more. It was the last. There was nobody else left to riot, so people with some foresight, more foresight than I [had] at the time, could see that this could again strengthen the radical movement, that people they hadn't really thought about were now up there in the front.\n\n\"The big thing on everybody's mind, especially the police and movement people, was that these were the only rioters that had gotten the best of the police. So that gave them a special strangeness. I mean, people just [wondered], _How could that happen?_ Because there'd been riots with Yippies and there'd been riots with the SDS and Abbie Hoffman, but nobody had ever gotten the best of the police before. The police were never put on the run, and suddenly they were put on the run by the fairies, so those people were very curious: did this really happen?\n\n\"There was no carnival atmosphere; it was just people wanting to know what happened. A lot of grumbling and the kids were laughing and talking it over, getting ready for the night, a couple of people leafleting.... But it was not an exceptional day of any kind. It was just a rehashing.\n\n\"The riot no longer belonged to the kids. That was very obvious. So, yes, there was a difference in the makeup. There were more people rioting that could not be easily categorized, and a lot of that had to do with people that came over from other areas. The straight movement moved in heavily that night as a support. I'm assuming it was as a support. They were, of course, using it for their own ends, too, but you were aware the riot did not belong to the kids [Wednesday] night.\"\n\nThe action on Wednesday night began around 10:00 P.M. According to one report, at that time \"a motorcade of police drove down Christopher Street looking for trouble.\" There was a crowd of at least \"several hundred youths\" gathered near the Stonewall Inn described by the then-sympathetic _New York Post_ as \"shoving and bottle-hurling.\" _The New York Times_ reported it as a chanting crowd and estimated its size at five hundred strong. Leitsch characterized the crowd as composed of \"Black Panthers, Yippies, Crazies and young toughs from street gangs all over the city and some from New Jersey.\"\n\nAround 10:30 P.M. \"queens\" lit some trash at the corner of Waverly Place and Christopher Street, apparently resulting in more fires being set on Christopher Street, to which both the TPF and the fire department responded. While some members of the Mattachine Society were trying to stop such acts, the Mattachine Society leadership was trying to use the riots to advance the cause by distributing handouts stating that \"the disorders showed that 'gay people are reaching the end of their patience.' \"\n\nIndeed, it appears that by Wednesday night patience was in exceedingly short supply on all sides. While the _East Village Other_ reported that \"everything became more than serious,\" _The New York Times_ described the crowd as \"hostile,\" and Leitsch wrote that:\n\nthe street people were no longer half-serious, half-camping. The cops... had taken the offensive and massive retaliation was their goal. Some seemed quite ready to depopulate Christopher Street the moment anyone would give them permission to unholster their guns. Failing that, some of them, particularly some of the TPF men, tried to achieve the same objective with their nightsticks.\n\nRonnie Di Brienza described the scene he witnessed:\n\nOne really fat Bircher-type pig grabbed a friend of mine, who was promptly beaten in front of two hundred people by three other pigs, and then carted off to a waiting patrol car. This was it. From no where the crowd swelled to an estimated thousand, and the battle was on. One head, standing on the corner of Waverly, was unfortunate enough to yell out \"pig\" just when the man was behind him. Well, in front of 1,000 witnesses, he was pummeled, dragged, kicked and lifted down the length of Christopher Street to a waiting squad car on Seventh Avenue....\n\nMy buddy received seven stitches over his left eye for his participation in a freedom of assembly rally.\n\nBetween the anger of the demonstrators and that of the police\u2014with the police of course being better equipped and trained\u2014it is not surprising that many demonstrators were injured. Leitsch describes the bodies of the wounded that littered Seventh Avenue South between Christopher and West 10th streets: \"Young people, many of them queens, were lying on the sidewalk, bleeding from the head, face, mouth, and even the eyes. Others were nursing bruised and often bleeding arms, legs, backs and necks.\"\n\nNor were demonstrators the only ones hurt. At least one police officer, Richard Adkins, a patrolman, was injured seriously enough by a bottle that hit him on the left side of his face that he was taken to St. Vincent's Hospital.\n\nThere is consensus that on this night, as on the first night of the Uprising, it was the effeminate men who did most of the fighting. Di Brienza wrote: \"I have never seen anything worse than an infuriated queen with a bottle, or long nails. Believe me, get their ire up, and you face the wrath of all the Gods that ever lived.... Revolution is being heard on Christopher Street, only instead of guttural MC-5 voices, we hear it coming from sopranos, and altos.\" Indeed, Leitsch takes this view even further, saying that not only were the \"queens\" braver than the masculine gay men, they were also braver than the Black Panthers, Yippies, and other leftists who were there on Wednesday night: \"The exploiters had moved in... blacks and students who want a revolution, any kind of revolution... swelled the crowd... but 'graciously' let the queens take all the bruises and suffer all the arrests. (If they have no more courage than they displayed on Christopher Street, their revolution is a long way off.)\"\n\nFive persons were arrested on Wednesday night. The charges against four of them was harassment; the charges against the fifth person are unknown.\n\nOn Wednesday night Village shops were broken into, apparently by the nongay protesters, for as Dick Leitsch pointed out, \"all the most unlikely places were looted\": shops whose owners were sympathetic to the homophile movement and to the street queens were broken into and the \"fag shops\" that exploited the gay community by selling overpriced wares were not hit.\n\nWhile the police and protesters fought their hardest on Wednesday night, the strife finished quickly. As Ronnie Di Brienza wrote at the end of his account of what he called, with some understatement, the Stonewall Incident, \"This all ended within an hour, and peace was restored.\" He concluded his report with a pithy summation of the meaning of the events he had witnessed from beginning to end: \"But the word is out. Christopher Street shall be liberated. The fags have had it with oppression.\"\n\n# G A Y\n\n# L I B E R A T I O N\n\n#\n\n# Seizing the Moment\n\nThe Stonewall Riots had barely ended when Bill Katzenberg called Charles Pitts, the coproducer of the WBAI series _The New Symposium_. The 1968 radio program had been so successful that the program's producers had mounted a new series, _The New Symposium II_. Katzenberg asked Pitts if he would be interested in helping to start a gay leftist group. Pitts agreed to meet with Katzenberg and invited Pete Wilson, Randy Wicker's lover, who had often appeared on _The New Symposium II_ , to come along to the meeting. Wilson had not only appeared as an openly gay man on the 1969 radio series; he had also marched in most of the early homophile demonstrations and joined the League for Sexual Freedom, an organization Wicker had cofounded that advocated sexual freedom for all along libertarian lines. When Pitts and Katzenberg met, Pitts was so immediately inspired that even before Wilson arrived, he crafted the memorable lines that captured the new defiant spirit of gay New Yorkers. Soon scores of gay New Yorkers would find a piece of paper thrust in their hands that asked: \"Do You Think Homosexuals Are Revolting?\" The same flyer rejoined: \"You Bet Your Sweet Ass We Are,\" before promising: \"We're going to make a place for ourselves in the revolutionary movement.\" The flyer urged all who wanted to help in this new endeavor to show up at the July 24 Alternate U. meeting, the same date that O'Brien and Katzenberg had reserved at Alternate U. before the Stonewall uprising.\n\nUnbeknownst to Katzenberg, O'Brien, and Pitts, a young man named Michael Brown who had witnessed the riots sensed an opening to join newly politicized gay men with blacks, antiwar activists, and other forces on the Left. Although Brown worked in an interior decorating firm on Wall Street and had been on the staff of Hubert Humphrey's 1968 presidential campaign, he considered himself both a socialist and countercultural. He had been thrilled during the riots to see so many gay men be public about their sexuality, for he felt disgusted by the secrecy of gay life and the sordid tone that sometimes resulted from leading such a shadow life. Brown had thrown himself into the effort to support the Stonewall Riots, primarily by helping Dick Leitsch mimeograph and distribute Leitsch's account of the riots, \"The Hairpin Drop Heard Around the World.\" The mimeographed \"Hairpin\" hailed the event as \"the first gay riots in history\" and \"the opening shot\" of what could be \"a long, hot summer\" unless reforms were made.\n\nWhen Brown explained his ideas and feelings to Dick Leitsch before the riots were even over, Leitsch told him to be realistic and underlined the importance of Mattachine\u2013New York not jeopardizing its relationship with those in authority. But Brown insisted that it was an absolute necessity for Mattachine to respond to the riots proactively.\n\nDavid Scott was a twenty-one-year-old who had gotten caught up in supporting the riots when he met Michael Brown handing out mimeographed copies of \"The Hairpin Drop\" near Christopher Park. Scott was so eager that nearly every night after work he went up to volunteer at the Mattachine offices, helping to mimeograph flyers and then distribute them in the area around Christopher Park. While he was at the Mattachine offices he met Marty Robinson, John O'Brien, Dick Leitsch, and Madolin Cervantes, a heterosexual Mattachine member and one of its most enthusiastic supporters. He recalls a major discussion that he heard about a week after the riots among Madolin, Marty, Michael, Dick, and possibly John. \"I remember Madolin saying, 'Oh, we should be nice. Gay people are known as being nice, sweet people.' And like Marty and [others] of them said, 'No! This has all got to change. It's time to get radical. The civil rights movement didn't get where they are by being nice and quiet. The antiwar movement didn't get where it is. We have to be militant, and we have to confront the authorities.' \"\n\nLeitsch yielded to Brown's entreaties and agreed to form an Action Committee and to schedule a meeting where all concerned could express their feelings and reactions to the riots. The meeting was scheduled for July 9 at Freedom House in midtown. Headed \"GAY POWER,\" the flyer advertising the meeting was circulated during the riots over July 1 and 2. The flyer declared that the riots had shown \"that gay people are reaching the end of their patience. At the bottom of the calls for GAY POWER and HOMOSEXUAL EQUALITY is a realization that we can influence our existence\u2014if we can only come together.\" By July 5 a new flyer appeared. This one, titled \"Homosexual Liberation Meeting,\" recognized that the riots presented a rare opportunity for movement forward that must not be lost: \"Many of us in the community have been heartened by the appearance of a new spirit this past two weeks. Now is the time to take a stand on our own behalf. We cannot let the homosexual community fall back into a period of indifference and inaction because we have seen that this leads to persecution and explosive bitterness.\" It concluded with a tenet of the Left: \"[N]o one is free until everyone is free!\"\n\nHow ready the times were for such a new direction is demonstrated not only by the riots themselves but also by how individuals were affected by the uprising in terms of political awareness. When Marty Robinson witnessed one of the kick lines squaring off with the TPF on the first night of the riots he had had a kind of epiphany, discovering in that moment that gay men's sexuality was \"something precious, something worth fighting for.\" That night, he had lain awake in bed, unable to sleep as he thought about \"the responsibility of being in the movement and the importance of doing things that are good for people.\" He concluded: \"If I go out and politicize and repeat and demonstrate this liberation over and over again we will change the way homosexuals live.\" In Marty's mind, that night sealed his commitment to the gay political movement.\n\nMartha Shelley, who had only recently resigned as one of the officers of New York's small branch of the Daughters of Bilitis, had seen the riots on their second night as she was showing the Village to some DOB members visiting from Boston. She had not been aware that she was witnessing a homosexual riot, so that when her visitors had asked her what was going on she had played the New York sophisticate, calmly saying, \"Oh, just a riot. We have them here all the time,\" and had continued her walking tour. But on reading the Sunday _New York Times_ the following afternoon and learning the nature of the riot, she received a jolt. She, too, had barely slept, and not only because she had missed the last bus home to New Jersey after showing her guests around. \"I was slightly feverish from lack of sleep, so I lay on my couch tossing and turning, so excited by it, thinking, 'We have to do something. We have to have a protest march.' I thought, _What am I going to do?_ I thought, _I can make a speech or something_. I said, 'Yes, stand up in public and get shot at.' [But] that part of me that says, _You'd rather die than be called a coward_ , came to the fore and said I have to do it.\" Martha went to the phone and called Jeannie and Eleanor, a lesbian couple who kept the local DOB running. After explaining what was going on, Martha said, \"Look, we've got to do something. Let's have a march.\" Jeannie and Eleanor suggested that Martha go to the Mattachine Society. \"If they agree to it, we'll jointly sponsor it.\"\n\nMichael Brown, Martha Shelley, and Marty Robinson were not the only ones to sense the change in the air. According to historian Toby Marotta, several homosexuals with New Left or countercultural values went to Mattachine\u2013New York, Daughters of Bilitis, and Craig Rodwell to urge radical new action. Those who called on Mattachine\u2013New York and DOB found that \"their budding ideas about gay political activity were very different from the homophile outlooks of the leaders in charge.\" Those who went to Rodwell, who was trying to get people to join HYMN, agreed with him that his \"need to keep his bookstore legal and self-sustaining\" limited the kind of activities that HYMN, as an extension of the bookstore, could undertake.\n\nAs Brown hustled to find recruits for his Action Committee, one of the first he got to join was Bill Weaver, a gay man he had worked with to organize the large New York City antiwar march down Fifth Avenue. Soon Earl Galvin, Marty Robinson, and Martha Shelley were members as well.\n\nHow word had spread through connections at Alternate U. showed how ripe the time was for a new kind of movement. Susan Silverman, the director of programming at Alternate U., had helped set up the July 24 meeting. Silverman had started to think about women's issues in 1967 when only seventeen and a member of the Queens College SDS chapter. There she had been encouraged by feminist Robin Morgan to join New York Radical Women, New York City's first such feminist group. Through New York Radical Women she had participated in some of the key events in the new women's liberation movement, such as the 1968 feminist protest at the Miss America Pageant. Although these demonstrations had given an outlet to Silverman's passionate interest in feminist issues, they had done nothing to help her integrate her lesbian feelings, which she kept secret. Feeling isolated within WITCH, the radical feminist guerrilla theater collective, she quit the organization and began to work at Alternate U. She also ran a feminist workshop at Alternate U. in which she met Lois Hart, a follower of the recently deceased silent Eastern master, Meher Baba. Hart was the first woman Silverman had ever met who was willing to talk about being a lesbian, and both would attend the July 24 meeting.\n\nBut even before the first community meeting was held at Freedom House, another event took place that showed how ambiguously some in the gay community viewed the recent riots, as well as the extent to which the incipient movement would have its work cut out.\n\nIronically, Randy Wicker, the homophile movement's first East Coast militant, had been horrified by the riots. For years he had worked hard to counter stereotypical portrayals of homosexual men, and the reports he heard of the riots sounded like his worst nightmare come true: effeminate boys were in the streets camping it up while drag queens joined gay men in a chorus line to kick their heels at cops and others set trash cans on fire. And they were getting more press than Randy had received even on his best day. Wicker feared that a crazed queen might set one of the Village's old residences on fire and a grandmother or a child might be incinerated alive, obliterating overnight all the progress homophile activists had so painstakingly achieved over the past decade. Wicker had also gone up to the Mattachine\u2013New York office to beseech Leitsch, but to calm things down rather than rev them up. Wicker proposed diverting energy into a positive and peaceful channel, such as the effort the organization already had under way to raise money to replace the trees the vigilantes had cut down in Queens. Somehow the management of the Electric Circus, one of Manhattan's biggest and hippest nightclubs, which was just beginning to see business slacken, heard of the riots and had the idea of opening its doors to gay men and women. Mattachine accepted the offer and the nightclub put out a flyer titled _Oh Boy!_ , extolling itself as offering the city's best recorded sound and light show and saying: \"We don't think it's necessary for gay people to be quizzed at the door, packed into over-crowded, over-heated, over-priced, Mafia-controlled sewers. If you all come, and if the experiment works\u2014it could be beautiful... beautiful enough to do every week.\" The flyer noted that \"we'll be open to the general public as usual, but we're especially encouraging gay people to come\u2014and we really hope that everyone will dance together and dig one another.\" The Electric Circus invited gay people to come and dance on the night of July 6, a Sunday, promising that all the proceeds would go to the Mattachine fund to buy new \"Trees for Queens.\"\n\nWhen July 6 did come around, everything began smoothly. An acid rock band played a medley of popular songs, and some straight couples even joined gay ones on the dance floor. When the music stopped shortly after midnight, Wicker, wearing an American flag shirt (similar to the one that Abbie Hoffman had stolen from him and had been famously seen wearing on television), addressed the crowd and began talking about \"gay power,\" the phrase made famous by the riots. But Wicker also criticized the Stonewall Riots, saying: \"Rocks through windows don't open doors.\" Apparently the Circus had not bothered to inform all of their staff about their guests that Sunday evening, for after Randy had spoken only a few words, one of their employees suddenly realized he might be surrounded by homosexuals. He asked a blond youth standing next to him if he was \"with them\" and when the man replied affirmatively began to pummel him. Jack Nichols, who witnessed the scene, wrote that after the staff member was quelled, he was \"led from the premises screaming and shouting like a madman.\" The violence ended the evening, and Wicker offered to give the bloodied youth a ride home. In the car, Randy learned that the young man had fought at the Stonewall Riots. When Randy asked him what he thought about it all, the youth answered, \"All I know is that I've been in this movement three days, and I've been beaten up three times.\"\n\nWhen the July 9 meeting called by the Mattachine was held, close to a hundred people attended. One of those present was Bob Kohler, who stood up and tried to get attention for the street youths by asking for donations of money or clothing for them: \"We're on the brink of something here. Organizations are forming, and we're hearing 'gay liberation,' but these kids are sitting in the park. I'm doing what I can.\" But those at the meeting were not in a charitable mood and told him to \"sit down and shut up.\" Most of those at the meeting wanted to hold a demonstration to protest police harassment. A vote was taken and the idea of the march won overwhelmingly. The people who wanted to have a march were told to hold a planning session in a room to the rear, to which Martha Shelley and others repaired. It was a hot day, and the newly formed march committee opened cans of beer to quench their thirst as they began to work. The activists decided that the committee should have a name. As various names were proposed, someone put forward \"the Gay Liberation Front,\" a name modeled on the Communist Vietnamese National Liberation Front. Martha Shelley recalls her spontaneous reaction when she heard the phrase: \"I started pounding on the table, saying, 'That's it! That's it! We're the Gay Liberation Front!' \" In her enthusiasm, Shelley hit her hand on her beer's pop top over and over until she began to bleed, as she continued to scream, \"Oh, all right!\"\n\nThe group raised such a ruckus in their joy that Dick Leitsch came in demanding, \"What's going on here? What is this Gay Liberation Front?\" Shelley recalls: \"He was really upset. He thought that we were going to have another organization. There were seven gay organizations in New York, some consisting only of two people and a newsletter. He wanted there to be one gay organization, with him at the head of it. So we hastened to reassure him, 'Oh, no, we're not starting an organization. We're just a march committee.' \"\n\nBut Brown wanted something still more militant in tone and pressed for a second meeting, urging that it be held in the Village, since it was \"the heart of the gay community.\"\n\nThe next meeting was therefore planned to take place at St. John's Episcopal Church on Waverly Place on July 16. In the meantime, it was decided that the action should be both a protest and a commemoration of the Stonewall Riots. There would be a rally with speeches in Washington Square Park, followed by a march to the Stonewall Inn on the one-month anniversary of the riots. An ad was placed in _The Village Voice_ that announced the July 27 demonstration as co-sponsored by the Daughters of Bilitis and Mattachine\u2013New York. The display ad urged the reader to \"SUPPORT GAY POWER\" by attending the demonstration and wearing a lavender armband.\n\nBetween the meetings of July 9 and 16 Brown recruited Earl Galvin, Bill Weaver, and Martha Shelley to join the Mattachine Action Committee, or MAC. As members of MAC were leafleting for the July 16 meeting, they saw flyers advertising a special picket to be held on Bastille Day at the House of Detention for Women in support of the inmates, especially Black Panthers Afeni Shakur (mother of the future rapper Tupac Shakur) and Joan Bird. To show that gay people were now ready to join other oppressed minorities, MAC members joined the July 14 demonstration, which included John O'Brien. For the first time the two streams that had been independently moving toward starting a militant gay activist organization converged. They also got their first press coverage as militant and radical homosexuals in _Rat:_ \"[T]he demonstrators, chanting and singing, marched around the Women's House led by black people who had come to visit their friends inside and who had joined the solidarity demonstration. Then gay people, who now call themselves 'Pink Panthers,'... led the parade from the Women's House to the Stonewall Inn\u2014scene of the Christopher Street riots.\"\n\nThe flyer put out by Mattachine\u2013New York on July 10 called for gay people to end their isolation and apathy by attending the second gay liberation meeting, claiming that the \"positive response\" to the first gay power meeting had shown that \"homosexuals are no longer going to sit back and be apathetic pawns for every politician who comes along.\"\n\nAs it turned out, apathy would be the least of Mattachine's problems at the July 16 meeting. On that night, around two hundred people gathered in a large room with a low ceiling. Things got off to a bad start when Dick Leitsch arrived late. From there it went downhill\u2014or uphill, depending upon one's point of view. Tom Burke recorded what happened:\n\nDick Leitsch, in a staid brown suit, strides to the front. With professional aplomb, he reopens the meeting. Police brutality and heterosexual indifference must be protested, he asserts; at the same time, the gay world must retain the favor of the Establishment, especially those who make and change the laws. Homosexual acceptance will come slowly, by educating the straight community, with grace and good humor and...\n\nA tense boy with leonine hair is suddenly on his feet... \"We don't want acceptance, goddamn it! We want respect! Demand it! We're through hiding in dark bars behind Mafia doormen. We're going to go where straights go and do anything with each other they do and if they don't like it, well, _fuck them!_ [...]\n\n\"Well, now, _I_ think,\" says [Mattachine's secretary] Mrs. Cervantes, \"that what we ought to have is a gay vigil, in a park. Carry candles, perhaps. A peaceful vigil. I think we should be firm, but just as amicable and sweet as...\"\n\n\"Sweet!\" The new speaker resembles Billy the Kid. He is James Fouratt, New Left celebrity [...]\n\n\"Sweet! Bullshit! There's the stereotype homosexual again, man! Soft, weak, sensitive! Bullshit! That's the role society has been forcing these queens to play, and they just sit and accept it. We have got to radicalize, man! Be proud of what you are, man! And if it takes riots or even guns to show them what we are, well, that's the only language that the pigs understand!\"\n\nWild applause.[...]\n\nDick Leitsch tries to reply, but Fouratt shouts him down.\n\n\"All the oppressed have got to unite! The system keeps us all weak by keeping us separate.[...]\"\n\nAgain and again, Dick Leitsch tugs frantically at his clean white tie, shouting for the floor, screaming for order. He is firmly ignored.\n\nThe old wineskin was not able to contain the new wine. Nor was the Mattachine meeting on July 16 the first indication that the gay youth inspired by Stonewall would not follow the forms that an earlier generation had. As Craig Rodwell had ridden to Philadelphia on July 4 on the bus he had chartered for the Annual Reminder, he noticed that the people on the bus, most of whom he had personally recruited, were very animated. Much of the talk on the bus was about the Stonewall Riots, which had ended only a little more than twenty-four hours before the bus had departed New York.\n\nWhen Lilli Vincenz arrived from Washington, D.C., for the Annual Reminder, she immediately noticed a change. Instead of a small and sedate group in conservative dress, she found a boisterous crowd double the usual size, wearing jeans and T-shirts and brimming over with excitement about the riots. \"It was clear that things were changing. People who had felt oppressed now felt empowered,\" she recalls.\n\nWhen the demonstration started, its organizers told the demonstrators to follow the stringent rules always used at the Annual Reminder: pickets had to walk in a circle, single file and without chanting. For half an hour Craig marched in silence in the terrible heat, with no shade, clad in a suit and tie. Inwardly, he and others were seething to cut loose, to \"really make a statement.\" Then he noticed that two young women right in front of him were simultaneously breaking two of the picket demonstration's rules: they were not marching single file and they were holding hands. Craig was just thinking, _Oh-h-h, isn't that wonderful!_ when Frank Kameny, his face red as a beet, moved in between the two women and Craig and with a karate-chop blow broke their hands apart, saying, \"None of that! None of that!\"\n\nFurious, Craig immediately convinced about ten couples he had brought from New York to march holding hands. Bill Weaver scratched out the bland slogan on his picket sign and scrawled: \"SMASH SEXUAL FASCISM!\" on it. Rodwell noticed that the media were \"going crazy\" at the sight of queers actually holding hands in public as they marched in front of Independence Hall on July Fourth. He then spotted Kameny talking to a journalist. By prior agreement, the event's organizers had designated Kameny as the official spokesman, the one person authorized to talk to the media. Rodwell strode up to Kameny and barged in. \"Did you hear about what's going on in New York and the riots last week?\" Craig demanded. \"We're tired of not being able to hold hands in public, and the leadership of our demonstration has to change.\"\n\nThe bus ride back to New York City was just as animated as the one going down had been, but this time instead of the talk being about the Stonewall Riots, it was about the Annual Reminder and dress codes. As he listened, Craig realized that he had just attended the last of the Annual Reminders. Never again would gay people agree to such a controlled demonstration.\n\nThe July 24 meeting at Alternate U. drew about forty people, including Katzenberg, O'Brien, Pitts, Wilson, Hart, Silverman, Brown, Weaver, Galvin, Shelley, Fouratt, and Hoose. The crowd of mostly radical homosexuals was astonished at their own numbers. They decided to have each attendee introduce him- or herself and talk a little about his or her background. After these introductions, the group agreed to meet again in one week. By this time, Brown, Weaver, and Galvin had quit MAC, whose leadership was assumed by Marty Robinson and Martha Shelley.\n\nRobinson and Shelley were the main speakers at the Gay Power vigil and march to the Stonewall Inn six days after the first Alternate U. meeting. By 2:00 P.M. five hundred gay men and lesbians had gathered around the fountain in Washington Square Park. A new logo for the nascent revolution was displayed that day: a lavender banner with two female symbols interlinked on the left and two male symbols interlinked on the right was unfurled. Lavender armbands and sashes were distributed to the crowd. Martha Shelley stood on the fountain's rim to address the throng. She praised those present for their courage in attending such an open meeting: \"The time has come for us to walk in the sunshine. We don't have to ask permission to do it. Here we are!\" As she developed her theme, Shelley's tone became more militant: \"Brothers and sisters, welcome to this city's first gay-power vigil. We're tired of being harassed and persecuted. If a straight couple can hold hands in Washington Square, why can't we?\" The crowd applauded and went into a delirium of screams, giggles, and shouts of \"Sock it to 'em!\" and \"Long live the queen!\" Shelley continued, \"We will no longer be victimized by straight people who are guilt-ridden about sex. We're tired of flashlights and peeping-tom vigilantes. Tired of marriage laws that punish you for lifting your head off the pillow.\" After Shelley finished by naming some famous homosexuals, Marty Robinson addressed the crowd.\n\nThe passionate young carpenter declared that \"Gay power is here! Gay power is no laugh. There are one million homosexuals in New York City. If we wanted to, we could boycott Bloomingdale's, and that store would be closed in two weeks.\" He asked everyone present to join with groups like Mattachine\u2013New York and Daughters of Bililis to press the fight for equality. \"We will not permit another reign of terror. Let me tell you, homosexuals, we've got to get organized. We've got to stand up. This is our chance!\"\n\nThe crowd then marched down 4th Street to Sheridan Square in a four-by-four column, clapping in cadence and shouting \"Gay power\" and other slogans. As traffic was halted for them to cross Sixth Avenue, the protesters gained confidence. This was the first openly gay march not only in New York City but on the East Coast and many could not believe what they were seeing. As _The Village Voice_ reported, \"Even 4th Street's resident gypsies unearthed an Instamatic from the bowels of their trailer and snapped away.... Maybe it wasn't just a joke. Maybe there really was a gay power.\"\n\nAs the crowd assembled in and around the park across from the Stonewall Inn, Marty Robinson appealed for money, as well as for the creation of a gay newspaper. At this point there was tension among some of the protesters, for according to John O'Brien, Robinson had made an agreement with him that after reaching Sheridan Square they would march on the Sixth Precinct station. When someone shouted out that they should march on to the police station, Robinson ignored it and the crowd sang \"a curiously moving 'We Shall Overcome' \" before Robinson and Shelley both urged the crowd to disperse, apparently afraid of potential violence if the march continued to the police station. O'Brien felt betrayed and decided that from then on he would have nothing to do with the Mattachine Society. To the _Village Voice_ reporter it seemed that \"[g]ay power had surfaced.... A mild protest to be sure, but apparently only the beginning.\"\n\nOn July 31 at the second gay militant meeting at Alternate U., the assembly voted to call the new organization the Gay Liberation Front. They chose the name in part as a tribute to the National Liberation Front in its war with the South Vietnamese and U.S. governments. They also selected the name in hope that the new political entity would indeed be a \"front,\" that is, not simply a new organization but a unified alliance with all other gay and lesbian groups. But the vote on the new name would be one of the few noncontroversial votes in the Gay Liberation Front's short and highly fractious history.\n\nIronically or fittingly, the big fight at the first official meeting of the Gay Liberation Front (or GLF, as it soon became known), as Charles Pitts, one of the founders, explained, was over whether the new group \"should be [about] self-enlightenment (as a kind of consciousness-raising type thing) or integration immediately with other revolutionary or militant movements.\" The meeting voted and a slight majority, around 52 percent, favored concentrating on homosexual issues for the immediate future. The outcome caused a lot of shouting and disruptions as the more radical members, intent now on forming their own group, walked out. At this point many people who had attended, including Marty Robinson, were so disgusted they walked out of what now appeared to be a divided movement, leaving the floor to the more revolutionary types. In the second room a more organized meeting proceeded, so that many who had voted against joining the SDS-type radicals joined those in the second room. Jerry Hoose, who was not a leftist, stayed. He explained in retrospect that \"the victory of the radicals was sealed when the responsibility for preparing a statement for _Rat_ announcing GLF's birth was delegated to Michael Brown, Lois Hart, and Ron Ballard,\" the last two members in particular being among the most radical of all of GLF's members.\n\nThe article for _Rat_ in which the Gay Liberation Front made its debut was done in the form of an interview, with the supposed interviewer unidentified. To the first question, \"What is the Gay Liberation Front?,\" the answer given was direct, if grounded in theory:\n\nWe are a revolutionary homosexual group of men and women formed with the realization that complete sexual liberation for all people cannot come about unless existing social institutions are abolished. We reject society's attempt to impose sexual roles and definitions of our nature. We are stepping outside these roles and simplistic myths. We are going to be who we are. At the same time, we are creating new social forms and relations, that is, relations based upon brotherhood, cooperation, human love, and uninhibited sexuality. Babylon has forced us to commit ourselves to one thing... revolution.\n\nThe answer to the second question indicated the strong Marxist strain that would dominate the organization. This ideology influenced both GLF's analysis of the plight of lesbians and gay men as well as the position held by a majority of its members, that true homosexual revolutionaries should, indeed must, ally themselves with other groups oppressed by capitalism:\n\n_What makes you revolutionaries?_\n\nWe formed after the recent pig bust of the Stonewall, a well known gay bar in Greenwich Village. We've come to realize that all our frustrations and feelings of oppression are real. The society has fucked with us... within our families, on our jobs, in our education, in the streets, in our bedrooms; in short, it has shit all over us. We, like everyone else, are treated as commodities. We're told what to feel, what to think [....] We identify ourselves with all the oppressed: the Vietnamese struggle, the third world, the blacks, the workers... all those oppressed by this rotten, dirty, vile, fucked-up capitalist conspiracy.\n\nAsked how capitalism oppressed homosexuals in particular, GLF pointed to the closet, which it saw as the result of a social \"system of taboos and institutionalized repressions\" to control \"sexual expression.\" GLF's analysis of the gay political situation appropriately brought in both Freud and feminism, for marriage was named \"one of the most insidious and basic sustainers of the system\" of sexual repression because, through it, \"a male worker is given the illusion of participating in the power of the ruling class through economic control of his children and through the relation he has with his wife as sexual object and household slave.\"\n\nTo end gay oppression, GLF said that it would \"[relate] the militancy generated by the bar bust and by increasing pig harassment to a program that allows homosexuals and sexually liberated persons to confront themselves and society.\" GLF said it would achieve this through creating encounter groups, holding demonstrations, putting on dances, starting a newspaper, \"and just by being ourselves on the street,\" emphasizing the value of being \"out of the closet\" that would, in contrast to the homophile movement, be one of the hallmarks of the gay liberation movement. GLF already had \"specific plans\" that included opening a coffeehouse and starting both \"a working commune, and experimental living communes.\"\n\nWhile the analysis and the language used by GLF in its coming-out announcement were both revolutionary and highly militant, in practice, as historian Donn Teal recognized, \"GLF did not become SDS-type revolutionary. Its public appearances ranged, as did its membership, from support of Movement-sponsored protests to confrontations over American anti-homosexuality, personal, political, and organizational.\" Toby Marotta concurred: \"Although Brown, Hart, and Ballard took steps [in the _Rat_ article] to identify GLF with all the major concerns of the Movement, they made concessions to win the support of activists eager to deal first with gay issues.\"\n\nIt is also true that because of some of the positions GLF adopted at its inception, particularly that of trying to form alliances with other radical causes, less than four months after its birth GLF would fatally split. In the meantime, the single most important thing that needed to happen did: enough people had recognized the unique opportunity created by the Stonewall Riots to form a new, radically militant homosexual organization. The energy that the riots had released was not allowed to dissipate.\n\n#\n\n# \"We're the Gay Liberation Front!\"\n\nOn a Friday night Martha Shelley spun around joyously in the dance hall to the pounding beat of the rock music that filled the room. It mattered little that this room enlivened by happy faces and animated bodies usually functioned as an Alternate U. meeting room or that the blaring music came from a makeshift stereo and tape deck system. What did matter to Martha and the hundreds of other gay men and lesbians crowded into the room was that they had come together to create this celebratory event where they felt free. Intense bursts of color generated by a light show obscured the political posters that normally provided the plain hall's only decoration. While some men and women taking a break between dances sat in the wooden folding chairs lined up along the sides of the room, others sat in the windows overlooking the street, their feet dangling three floors above the sidewalk. As everyone gathered on the floor to participate in the line dance, the primal tribal feeling grew stronger. The men and women joined together and snaked around the room hooting and shouting, then spiraled into a tight mass before quickly unwinding with such terrific force that Nikos Diaman's glasses snapped in two as he was thrown into another reveler's body.\n\nMartha loved the joy and freedom she found in these communal rituals. Such celebratory dances felt entirely different from her experiences of lesbian bars before the summer of 1969. The watering holes she had frequented were dimly lit and small. As she had danced in those small bars she had felt uptight and uncomfortable. At the GLF dances the coat check was free and a beer cost a quarter. At these dances, friendly GLF hosts wearing name tags constantly circulated looking for anyone who seemed alone, and when they found a wallflower they talked to the man or woman and encouraged him or her to dance. Here the lights were low enough to be romantic, but not so low as to suggest you were in hiding. Off this main room couples found smaller, dimly lit rooms furnished with mats and chairs, a setting that invited quiet conversation and romantic encounters. These elements created an atmosphere of sexiness and camaraderie, as shown by the way the dancers smiled, hugged, kissed, and even pinched each other.\n\nSoon there would be dances exclusively for GLF women, which made them even more ecstatic: \"I remember when we had the lesbian-only dances, we could get undressed. We danced, you know, naked to the waist. Some people even took off all their clothes. I never went that far, but any chance to take off my shirt\u2014Ooh, all right! You know, hot night, summer in the city. And we danced in circles that were like an expression of community, not just coupling off. I'm sure we did too [many] drugs, though I never had that much of a problem with it. People slept around. Sometimes they stayed in couples for long times. But there was this feeling of ecstasy and freedom. It was great.\"\n\nJim Owles was equally enthusiastic about the GLF dances: \"The first time I danced with a man was at a GLF dance, and I really loved it! It was terrific!\" A born fighter and individualist, he had never had sex with another man until his twenty-second year, after he had been discharged from the air force, primarily for protesting the Vietnam War. Jim was still twenty-two when he arrived in New York City just in time to read news accounts about the Stonewall Riots. When he saw a notice about a meeting of \"militant homosexuals\" he decided to attend. At first he felt unsure about whether he should join the more radical group that was forming or stay with MAC. He discussed his reservations with Marty Robinson, who, like Jim, wondered if the radicals' only real intention was to provoke violence to bring about a revolution. Eventually Jim and Marty became lovers and both ended up joining GLF. Although out of the closet for less than a year, Jim wholeheartedly threw himself into the most militant gay organization ever. The young radical even became GLF's treasurer.\n\nThe GLF dances were so popular that people came not just from Long Island or New Jersey but also from as far away as Amherst and Baltimore. While other groups that used Alternate U. sometimes had dances, they attracted only small groups of people. For these gay dances, the line stretched down the block.\n\nThe reasons for the dances' success were clear to Jerry Hoose and Bob Kohler, who organized them. Kohler recalls, \"For the first time\u2014hallelujah!\u2014gay dances would be non-Mafia-run. It would be the first time that it would be gay dances by gay people for gay people, with the money that was handed in at the door going to gay issues and gay causes. This was a fabulous first. I get chills when I think about it. I mean, what had we had up till that point? Our entire existence revolved around oppressive, Mafia-run gay establishments where they hated faggots, where you risked your life.\" For Hoose, who disliked gay bars, the contrast could not have been more marked. He hated everything about the Stonewall Inn except its dance floor and had witnessed Ed Murphy brutalizing a customer at one of the other establishments at which Murphy worked: \"If you got drunk or did anything wrong [in a Mafia gay bar] you not only could get thrown out, you could get murdered. I mean, no one cared.\" Not only did GLF offer gay men and women a free and supportive environment, but also the dances were reasonably priced and those who could not afford to pay were let in for free. Hoose recalls that \"it was such a good feeling at the door because lots of people didn't have a penny and they were treated just as nicely as people who were handing us ten dollars instead of five dollars or three dollars.\" The dances were so appreciated that those who gave more than the suggested donation outnumbered those who asked to be excused from contributing.\n\nNor were gay and lesbian bars neglected as GLF began to exercise its philosophy of street-level activism there. John O'Brien recalls, \"One of the things we had to win from these bars was the right to post flyers. We demanded, and won, the right to have bulletin boards. A lot of gay people today take that for granted, that the cigarette machine has newspapers on top of it or that there are bulletin boards in these places. That was a demand won. That was something that was given with reluctance by these bar owners. And the bigger the mob connection, the less likely they wanted to have bulletin boards or material distributed. They wanted their customers as ignorant and as controlled as possible, with the bouncers at the door serving watered-down liquor. And if you didn't like something, they'd push you around. It was okay for the police to come and raid, because they paid off the police anyway and occasionally there would be a raid. So what? They don't care what happens to you, and they certainly didn't care if you were beaten up on the street outside of a gay bar.\"\n\nWhen two lesbians dancing in a Mafia lesbian bar refused to let a businessman cut in on them, the man punched one of them in the face while a Mafia hood watched and did nothing. When this was reported to GLF, a group of GLF men and women organized a takeover of the bar. As the group arrived, they started playing the jukebox and dancing while making a point of not buying any drinks. The owners did not understand what was happening, and Martha Shelley was selected to go talk to them. \"We were a little afraid because, you know, Mafia, right? You don't know if they're going to bring out the submachine guns and start blowing you away. So I go up to talk to this guy, and I'm standing there with my knees shaking, and I tell him why we're there, to protest that our people aren't getting taken care of, et cetera, et cetera. He says, 'Do you know who I am?' I said, 'I don't know, and I don't care, but we're the Gay Liberation Front!' \"\n\nWhile such moments were scary, they were also empowering. In those early, heady days of gay liberation, the moments of exuberance certainly outnumbered those of fear. GLF reveled in puncturing the smug superiority most heterosexuals of the era felt about their own sexual orientation. Shelley recalls such an instance from GLF's first winter when she took to the streets to sell the organization's newspaper. As she stood in the snow on a Village street corner in a pair of sneakers and a torn leather jacket, yelling \"Get your copy of _Come Out!_ , newspaper of the Gay Liberation Front,\" a well-dressed middle-class couple passed by, pushing a stroller and looking at Shelley with horror. Just as they passed her, Shelley said, \"Get your copy of _Come Out!_ Read what your kid's going to be like when he grows up.\" Shelley recalls, \"And they jumped, and I just loved it. It was a way of giving the world the finger for what they were doing to me.\"\n\nThere was also a special joy in the simple fact of being openly gay twenty-four hours a day in the public square, as practiced, for example, in demonstrations. Shelley described participation in a typical GLF demonstration as \"marching down the streets, arm-in-arm, shouting, 'Power to the people. Give me a _G;_ give me an _A;_ give me a _Y_.' Shouting at the top of our lungs. Dressed in whatever wild and freaky costumes we felt like. Forget the nylons, unless you were a drag queen, I guess. It was let it all hang out. Unzip your fly, and it's all out there, or unzip your mind.\" As John Lauritsen, who had been involved with two homophile groups in Boston before joining GLF, wrote, \"The Gay Liberation Front was a quantum leap forward. No more special pleading. No more apologies. Here was a radical organization, wild, woolly, and wonderful, ready to fight militantly for homosexual freedom.\"\n\nFlush with money from the success of its dances, GLF had moved quickly to fund a series of radical projects: a bail fund for its members, an underground-style newspaper, and a program of free lunches for the poor.\n\nIt was the launch of _Come Out!_ that precipitated GLF's first major demonstration and its first victory. Immediately after its official formation on July 31, and true to its word in _Rat_ , GLF set to work on its own publication. GLF composed an ad for the August 7 _Village Voice_ with the provocative lead-in \"Gay Power to Gay People.\" The ad's purpose was to solicit articles, photographs, and artwork for the new gay publication. After accepting the ad and payment for it, _The Voice_ ran it without the lead-in. Furious GLFers expressed \"general outrage\" at their regular Sunday meeting and discussed an action against _The Voice_ but decided they did not have enough evidence of bad faith to justify it. The group decided to submit another ad using the word _gay_ for _The Voice's_ next issue. That ad for a GLF dance carried the lead-in \"Gay Community Dance.\" After the ad was again accepted with no comment, the person who had placed the ad got a phone call from _The Voice_ the following day, explaining that it was the newspaper's policy \"to refrain from printing obscene words in classified ads.\" Asked why anyone would consider the word _gay_ obscene, the person representing _The Voice_ said that \"the staff had decided 'Gay' was equatable with 'fuck' and other four-letter words.\" Either the ad would have to be changed or it would not run. Since GLF wanted the ad to run and the word _homosexual_ was not an acceptable substitute, GLF accepted _homophile_ to get the ad run, with Leo Martello remarking that the then-outmoded word sounded like a nail file for homosexuals. _The Voice_ promised that it would provide GLF with a written explanation of their opposition to the words _gay_ and _homosexual_.\n\nGLF had asked for the written explanation because they planned to use it as part of the basis for a lawsuit against _The Voice_. The promised explanation was never delivered, and GLF initiated its suit, which necessitated GLF's serving a copy of a letter stating their proposed action to _The Voice's_ publisher, Ed Fancher. When Fancher continually refused to meet anyone from GLF at his office, GLF was forced to serve him at his apartment. As the letter was delivered, GLF asked to speak with Fancher about _The Voice's_ classified policy. He refused to do so, mumbling that GLF \"should not have done such an outrageous thing as to come to his place of residence\" before firmly closing the door in the GLF representatives' faces.\n\nFeeling that Fancher had literally and figuratively closed the door on dialogue, at its next general meeting GLF decided to hold an action and a demonstration aimed at _The Voice_. On the morning of September 12, at 9:00 A.M., GLF threw a picket line up around the _Voice_ offices, mere feet from the Stonewall Inn. GLF protesters recalled Smith's and Truscott's casual use of terms such as _faggot_ and _dyke_ in their coverage of the Stonewall Riots and Walter Troy Spencer's column in which he had referred to the riots as the \"Great Faggot Rebellion.\" In his column, instead of worrying about basic issues of justice and decent treatment of the city's lesbian and gay male population, Spencer had bemoaned that \"one Christopher Street bar operator estimates that a single night of indirect embargo cost him $500 business\" and that the riots may have caused friction among the Sixth Precinct, the TPF, and the Public Morals Division of the police department. Was this the newspaper that Fancher himself had envisioned, and therefore named, as the _voice_ of \"the displaced, disaffected, dissatisfied, and the unhappy\"?\n\nGLF set up a table to give out coffee and collect signatures on a petition condemning _The Voice_ 's policy. They also brought along 5,000 copies of a flyer explaining the GLF action. When Fancher arrived at 10:00 A.M., he was presented with a proclamation of GLF's grievances before he quickly disappeared inside _The Voice_ 's offices. All through the day the picketing and petitioning continued, accompanied by chanting. By late afternoon not many of the flyers remained and many signatures had been gathered on the petition. At 4:30 the GLF submitted a classified ad saying: \"The Gay Liberation Front sends love to all Gay men and women in the homosexual community.\" Soon after, Howard Smith emerged from the building and requested three GLF representatives to meet with Fancher.\n\nOnce inside, the representatives were greeted with a cry of outrage: how could the GLF have chosen the so-liberal _Voice_ as a target? But negotiations were soon undertaken. While Fancher explained that it was _Voice_ policy not to censor the content of the copy its writers submitted (which GLF accepted with the proviso that they reserved the right to oppose anything _The Voice_ did print), he soon relented on the advertising policy, saying that henceforth the newspaper would not alter ads after payment and would print the words _gay_ and _homosexual_ in its classified ads. One of the GLF emissaries leaned out the window and flashed a V-for-Victory sign to the crowd below. The _Voice_ triumph came just in time for GLF's first issue of its own publication, _Come Out!_ On its cover a banner line proclaimed: \" _Village Voice_ Goes Down.\" A victory dance was held in celebration.\n\nArthur Evans and his lover, Arthur Bell, had read about the Stonewall Riots, but the event had not made a big impression on them. Evans, then a student at Columbia University, confesses that although he was a political activist, he had never made a connection between his gayness and the political struggles that were roiling the country. Regarding Stonewall, he says, \"I didn't realize the implications of it. It just went over my head.\"\n\nBut two months after the riot, Evans and Bell were walking in the Village on a balmy, foggy night when a youth, apparently Orphan Annie, handed them a leaflet announcing the existence of GLF. They both decided to attend a meeting to see what it was like. As Evans was to say over three decades later, \"It changed our lives, both of us, forever.\"\n\nEvans was immediately captivated: \"It was exciting because we met people there who were very proud of being lesbian and gay and had a developed sense of politics and political struggle, and who were concerned about the great issues of the day, which were imperialism, racism, and peace. So it was wonderfully exciting to see all this great consciousness bursting out in a gay and lesbian context. The two lobes in my brain came together, making me realize, _Oh, well, my political life is related to my sexual life. There's a connection here_. I saw that connection by just interacting with people there. It wasn't a preached connection; it was a lived connection. They were real people, who embodied it in who they were. That's the most powerful example of all. It was an electrifying, wonderful experience.\"\n\nAround the time that GLF was confronting _The Village Voice_ , an important evolutionary change occurred that would have great implications for the organization. Members of the organization were encouraged to form cells within GLF, structures that would generally function autonomously. When the cell structure began to be implemented, Evans helped start one called the Radical Study Group, most of whose members would later become published authors. One of the first books the group read was Engels's _The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State_ , which had a great influence on Evans's thinking. For Evans, participating in the Radical Study Group was the most meaningful learning experience in his life in terms of reading, a marked contrast with his experience at Columbia, where he was still enrolled. \"The graduate students were walking around, sort of in a daze, trying to get through their exams. The professors were still pretending that the 1960s hadn't happened. The idea that a gay and lesbian sensibility could be relevant to philosophy, they would scoff at that, or scoff at the idea of gay and lesbian history. It was just totally beyond the faculty's comprehension. So I would be in that academic environment, which was so backwards and rigid and foolish, and then get together with my friends, where we were discussing these texts, and it was so lively and invigorating and wonderful, because we were bringing our personal experience to it.\"\n\nEven before Jim Owles and Marty Robinson had joined GLF, as members of MAC, they had discussed how to mobilize gay people into an effective political force. Numerous actions that were taken just before and after the formation of GLF had been conducted under Marty Robinson's scrutiny as experiments in militant organizing: the march on the one-month anniversary of the Stonewall Riots' outbreak, the \"Hang Out\" that was held on Christopher Street stoops, and the protest held where the trees in Kew Gardens had been cut down. While Marty did not complete his formal education, he had an extraordinary native intelligence, as Arthur Evans attests: \"Marty Robinson is the smartest person I've ever known. He wasn't the most learned, but I've never known anybody as smart as Marty was: a brilliant thinker, theatrical, and funny. Marty was a true genius.\" After analyzing his experiences with the July and August actions, Marty, with Jim's assistance, was ready to take their past tactics a creative step further in September as New York's mayoral race moved into its final phase.\n\nOn a warm autumn day, Mario Procaccino, the Democratic nominee for mayor, was campaigning in Queens, with his entourage not letting most citizens get too close. When his guards let a short youth with a Beatle haircut through to shake the candidate's hand, Procaccino pumped the young man's hand and beamed at him. The youth suddenly asked him, \"Mr. Procaccino, what are you going to do about the oppression of the homosexual?\" The smile disappeared and a look of concern came over his face as the candidate began to pat Jim Owles's hand as if in condolence: \"Young man, I can see that you're very interested in this problem. That is one of the many problems that we must face in New York. It is sick rather than criminal, and we must show understanding and compassion for them.\"\n\nAt the Gotham Young Republican Club, State Sen. John Marchi, the far-right-wing Republican nominee, had just finished a speech on urban crises when a member of GLF stood up and asked, \"Senator Marchi, are you aware of the emerging militancy within the homosexual community, and how does this relate to your views on law and order? Will homosexuals become targets or will you be responsive to their needs?\" A stunned silence hit the room and, a reporter noted, \"For the first time that evening the Senator lost his cool, elegant articulate style.\" Marchi tried to avoid answering by saying that he did not feel it necessary to speak on the matter, for \"it was being considered by some committee and was a topic for the state legislature.\" The questioner persisted, \"Senator, it's not just for the legislature. As mayor you have control of the police force. How will this affect the lives of New York's eight hundred thousand homosexuals?\" Marchi answered in a staccato voice, \"I will enforce the laws and prevailing mores of society.\" He would be questioned two more times about the issue before he left the room.\n\nAs a candidates' forum organized by the League of Women Voters on October 1 at the Temple Torah in Queens began, thirteen GLF members were scattered in the audience of two thousand. In advance, they had all submitted questions about homosexuality. After the forum had droned on for an hour and a half, it was clear that, as they had suspected, none of their questions would be addressed by the candidates. A decision had been made prior to the meeting to target the most reactionary candidates, Marchi and Procaccino. Suddenly Marty Robinson stood up in the middle of the audience and said, \"It's 1776, Mr. Procaccino! The homosexual revolution has begun!\" As Marty and then other GLF members peppered Procaccino and Marchi with questions, the audience, many of its members young, began to take their side, hooting at the candidates. When the police tried to remove Marty and Jim Owles, members of the League of Women Voters surrounded them to protect them. When the GLF protesters went outside, much of the audience followed them to talk with them, finding the rest of the proceedings inside boring. Gay liberation politics made the news, with the October 1 confrontation covered by NBC-TV's one o'clock news and the _New York Post_. It would not be the last time.\n\nAfter returning from the Fifth Annual Reminder, Craig Rodwell developed his own idea about how to propagate the energy released by the Stonewall Riots: create a gay holiday by moving the date of the Reminder from July 4 to the riots' anniversary and by changing the place of observance to New York City, the site of the riots. At first he shared his idea only with his lover, Fred Sargeant, and two lesbian friends of theirs who were members of the New York University Lesbian and Gay Student Union, Linda Rhodes and Ellen Broidy. They all liked the idea and, in October at another meeting of the foursome in Rodwell's Bleecker Street apartment, they outlined plans for the event.\n\nFittingly, the move to make the celebration official came in Philadelphia at the November 1969 Eastern Regional Conference of Homophile Organizations (ERCHO). Since Rodwell had offended protocol with his outburst at the Fifth Annual Reminder, he realized that if he was too publicly identified with a resolution to create the holiday it might fail. He therefore let Ellen Broidy take the lead in introducing the resolution. It read:\n\nThat the Annual Reminder, in order to be more relevant, reach a greater number of people, and encompass the ideas and ideals of the larger struggle in which we are engaged\u2014that of our fundamental human rights\u2014be moved both in time and location.\n\nWe propose that a demonstration be held annually on the last Saturday in June in New York City to commemorate the 1969 spontaneous demonstrations on Christopher Street and this demonstration be called CHRISTOPHER STREET LIBERATION DAY. No dress or age regulations shall be made for this demonstration.\n\nWe also propose that we contact Homophile organizations throughout the country and suggest that they hold parallel demonstrations on that day. We propose a nationwide show of support.\n\nThe resolution passed with the support of all the organizations except for Mattachine\u2013New York, which abstained.\n\nFor all of its creative and passionate radicalism, GLF also had a dark side. Over time, events convinced Robinson and Owles that the revolutionaries in GLF were, as Marotta has pointed out, opposed to \"securing reforms that would only make homosexuals complacent about the system\" the revolutionaries wanted to overthrow. For example, to make the gay population more politically aware, Marty Robinson had encouraged Ralph Hall to write a column in _Gay Power_ , a gay underground-style newspaper that had sprung up in the wake of the Stonewall Riots, taking its name from the riots slogan that seemed to best express the event's meaning. Some GLF members then wrote an article for _Come Out!_ that dismissed _Gay Power_ as \"an enterprise designed to make money.\" When an open meeting was held to review material being considered for the GLF newspaper, a consensus was reached to not print the article critical of _Gay Power_. The _Come Out!_ cell then went ahead and printed the article anyway. When a GLF assembly voted not to print a second issue of _Come Out!_ but to use the money instead to start a community center, the _Come Out!_ cell declared its independence. Lois Hart, who belonged to the _Come Out!_ collective, described the secession as a natural \"evolution,\" to which Marty Robinson and others responded that this was \"nothing less than an attempt to steal GLF's mouthpiece, which belonged to all because it had been financed with money raised by all.\"\n\nThere was no shortage of self-righteousness and shrill pronouncements (not to mention extraordinary rudeness) to be heard at GLF meetings and found in the pages of _Come Out!_ When Barbara Gittings and Kay Tobin came to meetings, they were sharply questioned because of their age and more conservative styles of dress about why they were attending. Kay was called a fascist for wearing a LINDSAY FOR MAYOR button. Madolin Cervantes, who had worked hard for homosexual equality for years, was rudely challenged about her right to participate in a conference of homophile organizations because she was heterosexual. Consciousness-raising sessions often amounted to little more than character assassinations. As Martha Shelley put it, \"The downside is that we had so much anger that we also turned it against each other.... It was like if you disagreed, you were a threat.\" Even Bill Katzenberg, the organization's prime mover, quit the organization before it was three months old \"because he thought the radicals spent a ridiculous amount of time criticizing him because he was not open about his homosexuality when working in SDS.\" It was not long before the other main founder, Michael Brown, also quit GLF in disgust.\n\nMost infuriating for many of GLF's members was the way in which the organization through striving for the purest form of democracy became both inefficient and undemocratic. The examples given earlier illustrate how democracy was subverted in the name of autonomy. But it was also the case that any matter that had once been decided could be reopened at any future meeting, parliamentary procedures being considered too restrictive by GLF. Given the freewheeling style of GLF meetings, it could take a very long time to reach consensus on any matter. Understandably, it tried the patience of many to see matters that had been painstakingly discussed and decided reconsidered over and over at meeting after meeting, a practice that drove Arthur Evans in particular to distraction.\n\nBut of all the contentious issues that wracked this most contentious organization (which claimed not to be an organization at all but a loose collection of individuals and small groups of individuals), the most divisive of all was the issue that had bedeviled it from its first meeting, whether it should be a one-issue organization or whether it should ally itself with all other progressive causes.\n\nIn mid-November 1969, that issue came to a head over whether GLF should make a large contribution of money to the Black Panthers. John O'Brien had introduced a motion to donate $500 to the Panthers because he wanted to achieve solidarity with them. After ferocious debate, the motion was defeated. Those who opposed the motion made many arguments against it. Among the most compelling points was that the Panthers often employed language even more virulently homophobic than anything used by the reviled Marchi or Procaccino. In a move to reopen debate on an issue that had already been decided, the following week there was a call for a recount, and the motion passed.\n\nFollowing the vote, Jim Owles resigned as treasurer. Marty Robinson had already quit a couple of weeks prior. That night many members walked out, something that had never happened before. These resignations marked the beginning of the end for the fledgling gay liberation organization, but the birth of another one.\n\n#\n\n# The Heroic Age\n\nArthur Evans had become friendly with Marty Robinson and Jim Owles not long after joining GLF because he felt a strong affinity with their approach to gay politics. It was natural, therefore, that when he began to have thoughts about the need for an alternative to GLF, he turned to one of these men. On a rainy Sunday early in November, Arthur invited Jim to join him and Arthur Bell for brunch. At the end of the meal, over coffee, Evans broached the subject of starting a new group.\n\nJim told the two Arthurs that he and Marty had been thinking along the same lines. In fact, they had already discussed the idea with some of their closer friends. Jim expanded on his analysis of what he saw as one of GLF's main weaknesses, that in trying to align itself with all other oppressed groups, \"homosexual needs were being sluffed over for the big picture.\" He cited how a recent weekly Sunday night meeting had been disrupted by someone arriving with a report that women were being discriminated against at the Electric Circus, whereupon half the people attending left to join in a protest at the Circus. A month prior, in early October, Jim and Marty had considered forming a group dedicated exclusively to the cause of gay liberation, with a constitution, preamble, goals, and purposes. Everyone in the group who wanted to support other causes would be free to do so on their own. All this sounded good to Evans and Bell, and so Jim invited them to meet with him and Marty at Jim's apartment the following night. And so it was that the three men\u2014Marty Robinson, Jim Owles, and Arthur Evans\u2014who would be the most important figures in forming the new gay liberation group, as well as the three persons most prominently identified with it, began work to make it a reality in early November of 1969.\n\nThe small group invited only trusted friends to form a core group of thirteen who would meet during November and December to debate just what form the new group should take. Specifically, they worked on language for a preamble and constitution. Those thirteen were Marty Robinson, Jim Owles, Arthur Evans, Arthur Bell, Kay Tobin, Donn Teal, Tom Doerr, Fred Orlansky, Fred Cabellero, Robin Souza (\"Gary Dutton\"), Leo Martello, Richard Flynn, and Steve Adams. The first meeting of all who wanted to participate in the \"new group,\" as they initially called themselves, took place on November 24. (Arthur Evans missed the meeting to attend a reading by Allen Ginsberg.) After everyone agreed to screen new potential members to keep spies from GLF out, the new group's purpose was discussed. The activists agreed that the group would be radical and activist and \"would take responsible actions only, carefully planned within the framework of our society... without violence.\" Various possible undertakings were discussed, as well as the issue of what they should call themselves. Brainstorming for a name produced nothing satisfactory, and it was at a later meeting that the group settled on the straightforward Gay Activists Alliance. They also agreed that the group should first draw up \"a strong preamble\" and then use that text as a basis to further structure the group. The task of drafting the preamble was assigned to Arthur Evans.\n\nAfter taking suggestions, Evans sat down to work. He recalled: \"What I was concerned about in writing the preamble for the Gay Activists Alliance and the work on the constitution was to incorporate personal lived experience. I had become very suspicious of abstract political rhetoric, even when I agreed with it. I've been heavily influenced by Marxist and anarchist thinking, but I felt that in our movement we had to start with experiential confrontations first: the light would come out of the events themselves. Let's set up the stage so that the right events happen and the light will come out of that.\n\n\"That's what I experienced when I was in Chicago at the demonstration there... that the experience of the activity transcends any ideology. The ideology is important; I'm not saying it's not: I'm a philosopher. I'm interested in ideas and ideology. But... the lived experience... always transcends it....\n\n\"And that's what I saw GAA as doing and saying. You want to talk about revolution, the really revolutionary thing is... the situation of people on the street acting, in that dramatic context.... That releases an energy that goes on forever and keeps transforming people's lives, and that just can't be captured in any ideological formula.... That was one of my objections to GLF. I kept feeling they were trying to capture revolution in an ideological formula, and my feeling was that all formulas are lies.\"\n\nAt the next meeting, Evans distributed his draft of the preamble, and later took critical feedback over the telephone. As the constitution evolved, it contained two critical provisions: that GAA would not endorse any candidates for public office and that meetings would follow _Robert's Rules of Order_ in order to keep the organization democratic.\n\nAfter one more meeting and some revisions, the final versions of the preamble and constitution were refined and adopted at a meeting attended by nineteen people in Arthur Bell's apartment on December 21, which happened to be the winter solstice. The group of activists held an election and selected Jim Owles as their president and Marty Robinson delegate at large. To celebrate the birth of their new organization, they drank champagne.\n\nThe preamble as adopted read:\n\nWe as liberated homosexual activists demand the freedom for expression of our dignity and value as human beings through confrontation with and disarmament of all mechanisms which unjustly inhibit us: economic, social, and political. Before the public conscience, we demand an immediate end to all oppression of homosexuals and the immediate unconditional recognition of these basic rights:\n\nThe right to our own feelings. This is the right to feel attracted to the beauty of members of our own sex and to embrace those feelings as truly our own, free from any question or challenge whatsoever by any other person, institution, or moral authority.\n\nThe right to love. This is the right to express our feelings in action, the right to make love...\n\nThe right to our own bodies. This is the right to treat and express our bodies as we will, to nurture them, to display them, to embellish them...\n\nThe right to be persons. This is the right freely to express our own individuality under the governance of laws justly made and executed...\n\nTo secure these rights, we hereby institute the Gay Activists Alliance, which shall be completely and solely dedicated to their implementation and maintenance,... disdaining all ideologies, whether political or social, and forbearing alliance with any other organization except for those whose concrete actions are likewise so specifically dedicated.\n\nIt is, finally, to the imagination of oppressed homosexuals themselves that we commend the consideration of these rights, upon whose actions alone depends all hope for the prospect of their lasting procurement.\n\nAccording to Arthur Evans, he used the word _activist_ in the first paragraph to emphasize that the members of the organization were not just thinkers but people who acted to secure gay rights. Evans modified the Declaration of Independence's phrase \"let facts be submitted to a candid world\" to \"before the public conscience\" to place GAA's call to arms firmly in the American revolutionary tradition.\n\nEvans considered the right to feelings particularly important, especially as it was mentioned nowhere in the U.S. Constitution. As Evans believed that rights begin with feelings, he thought it necessary to acknowledge the right to feelings and not to only thought and behavior as traditional law did. That is, \"It doesn't matter what your morality is or what your laws are or what your thoughts are: We are entitled to our feelings, and we're especially entitled to feelings of love and beauty. The right to one's own body was written partly in affirmation of people who today are called transgendered people.\"\n\nIn the penultimate paragraph Evans intended to draw the major distinction between GLF and GAA, as he felt the imperative task was to seize the opportunity to create a vehicle that could create an uncompromised sense of gay and lesbian identity. To Evans this identity seemed the necessary bedrock at that historic juncture.\n\nThe final paragraph was intended as an appeal to all living in the closet. As Evans saw it, \"I'm appealing to myself as that lonely child, saying, 'This is the avenue through which you can grow and express your power and become a person.' \"\n\nGAA had forged a revolutionary document. Remarkably, GAA often succeeded in living up to its lofty ideals.\n\nAn advertisement was placed in _The Village Voice_ for the first public meeting of GAA. The event was held at what would become the organization's regular meeting place, the Church of the Holy Apostles on 28th Street and Ninth Avenue. Marty Robinson reported that GAA's first action would be a petition to present to none other than Carol Greitzer, the councilwoman who had often called on the police to arrest gay men. The GAA petition demanded that Greitzer introduce a bill outlawing discrimination in employment on the basis of homosexuality and that she work to end all discriminatory restrictions on gay businesses and remove state laws that criminalized homosexual conduct. Blank petitions were handed out for circulation. This, the activists reasoned, would provide them with a means to meet the public while introducing many citizens to the idea of gayness as a political cause.\n\nFurther progress was soon made in organizational structure. Committees were set up for publicity and political action, as well as a street committee to distribute petitions and pamphlets and to make signs for demonstrations, and a combination pleasure and fund-raising committee. When Marty Robinson ran into _Gay Power_ 's editor, he offered to run a regular GAA column if someone from the group would write it. Arthur Bell volunteered for the job.\n\nAs the eager activists busied themselves with these and other projects, they also fired off letters to newspapers that had made denigrating comments about homosexuals; met with a senior columnist at the _New York Post_ to complain about the same matter; and paid surprise visits to VID and VID's Human Rights Committee to begin to soften up Greitzer as a target.\n\nThe media-savvy group realized that it could be highly beneficial to have a logo or symbol, which was provided by Marty Robinson's new lover, Tom Doerr, a graphic design artist. (Marty and Jim had broken up as a couple in the fall around the same time Marty got involved with the shy and attractive Doerr.) The symbol Doerr suggested was that of the lambda, the eleventh letter of the Greek lowercase alphabet, which resembles an inverted letter _Y_. Tom designed the symbol as chrome yellow on a blue background. The lambda was chosen because in chemistry and physics it symbolizes a complete exchange of energy, \"that moment that's witness to absolute activity.\"\n\nBy the end of February GAA had already grown from fifteen to forty members and thus had adequate mass to plan a large action. On the morning of March 5, GAA members traveled to city hall, planning to enter the building and demand that Mayor Lindsay\u2014newly reelected in large part thanks to gay voters who remembered his actions to end entrapment\u2014take a public stance to end both job discrimination and police harassment. Apparently someone had tipped off both the press and city hall, for GAA members getting off the subway carrying posters were greeted by photographers and reporters. As they approached city hall they saw that police were present in overwhelming numbers, with many on horseback. When the GAA members tried to enter city hall, the police stopped them. They asked the police why other citizens were allowed to enter city hall and they were not. The police answered that \"only private citizens\" could enter, not groups. The activists were warned to \"keep out\" and \"get back,\" but the slight Jim Owles, whom Marty Robinson would later affectionately call \"the scrappiest little faggot in New York City,\" tried to push past the police. After the police bodily evicted Jim, they put up barricades around the city hall promenade. A minor city functionary offered the members of GAA a meeting with a slightly less minor official. GAA stood their ground, insisting on a meeting with the mayor. They were told no dice, that Lindsay was in Buffalo. The activists were not so easily dissuaded, however. They threw up a picket line and stayed for hours, chanting and holding their signs high when not talking to the press. Men kissed men as cameras recorded the scene, and a guitar player with long hair began to improvise songs about Lindsay, sodomy, love, and \"the little piggies that protect city hall.\" The lunch crowd generally reacted favorably, seeming to enjoy the demonstrators. Arthur Bell described the scene:\n\nThe sight... they saw and the answers [the press] got quickly negated any concept of namby-pamby homosexuality. Here, for all Wall Street, City Hall, and the press of America, were honest-to-God flesh-and-blood gorgeous, gorgeous gays. Stereotypes? Gone with the wind.\n\nFinally Michael Dontzin, the mayor's counsel and adviser, walked up to the protesters and agreed to meet with Jim Owles, a photographer from _Gay Power_ , and Arthur Bell, armed with his tape recorder. A general discussion ensued about harassment of gay folk, including specifics about bars, bathhouses, and entrapment by the Transit Police. Whereas Dontzin insisted that the mayor was supportive and sensitive to the issue and cited the progress of recent years, Owles insisted that the days of backroom promises were over: what they wanted was a public stand from the mayor. Moreover, Lindsay and other political figures from now on were going to have to listen to gay gripes, talk to the gay community in public forums, and \"help us when help was needed.\" Dontzin assured them he would present the mayor with their demands when he returned from Buffalo and, as the protesters left, promised to get back to them shortly. Owles recognized Dontzin's talk as political softshoe, however, and did not take it seriously, though Bell thought Dontzin sincere. All the same, as Bell left City Hall that Thursday, he reasoned that it was best to remain prepared to attack whoever attacked the community next.\n\nHe did not have to wait long. The following night Seymour Pine raided the gay bars the Zodiac and 17 Barrow Street. On Saturday night he raided the Snake Pit, an after-hours illegal but non-Mafia bar that, in spite of its name, had a reputation for being one of the friendlier bars in town.\n\nPine claimed that he had had a great many complaints against the Snake Pit for noise and that he was closing down illegal bars, gay or not. Certainly the bar was patently illegal, having neither a liquor license nor a certificate of occupancy, and like the Stonewall Inn was an overcrowded firetrap with only one exit. Around two hundred men were crowded into an area with only one exit that probably would have had an occupancy limit of sixty customers if it had been inspected and licensed by the city.\n\nWhen Pine raided the Snake Pit he had trouble identifying the management, who had slipped into the crowd of customers. But more seriously, Pine was once again faced with a crowd of customers who milled about outside a raided gay bar and did not disperse. The scene seemed explosive to Pine, and the last thing he wanted was a repeat of last summer's rioting. He surveyed the situation and made up his mind: at the Stonewall raid he had let the customers go. Now he had another crowd of gay club customers on his hands as he had at the Stonewall. To prevent a recurrence of that dreaded night of last June, he decided to handle it differently this time: he would arrest all the customers still inside and sort out the bar's management from them at the station house.\n\nIt took a long time for the police to transport over 160 customers in small groups via patrol wagons from the bar to the Sixth Precinct station house. One of the customers who was held inside the Snake Pit the longest was Alfredo Diego Vinales, who had recently started frequenting the bar. Vinales was a twenty-three-year-old Argentinean with an expired visa living in East Orange, New Jersey. Before he was put into a patrol wagon, one of Vinales's friends noticed that he seemed very nervous and extremely frightened. Lawrence (not his real name), one of the club's employees, asked one of the police, \"What rights do we have?\" The cop simply answered, \"Shut your fucking mouth.\"\n\nVinales and the 162 other men taken to the Charles Street station were herded up to the station's second floor, where the scene was chaotic. The police were also verbally abusive of the arrested men, repeatedly calling them faggots and making other derogatory remarks and threats. As summons were about to be issued to all the men taken from the Snake Pit, Pine explained that their identification would not be checked and that no one would have to pay bail.\n\nThe Spanish-speaking Vinales either did not hear or did not grasp the implications of Pine's explanation. Terrified of being deported for being homosexual, Vinales suddenly bolted up a flight of stairs. As one person present in the station house would later recall, \"Suddenly I heard a sound, like something falling, then screams.\" The screams he heard were those of Vinales, who had tried to escape by jumping from a window to the roof of the next building. He had missed and fallen onto a fence below, where he had been impaled on six of its fourteen-inch-long ice pick\u2013sharp iron spikes. When it became obvious that the police could not simply lift Diego off of the fence, Rescue Company No. 1 of the city fire department was called in to use an electric saw to cut off a portion of the fence so that they could transport Vinales to the hospital.\n\nAfter the firemen arrived, a police officer said to one of them, \"You don't have to hurry, he's dead, and if he's not, he's not going to live long.\"\n\nWhile the police may have initially intimidated those they had arrested, these were men who had witnessed the birth of a new militancy within the gay community over the last nine months. As word spread through the station of what had happened to Vinales, the men inside first talked to one another to keep their spirits up. Then, as the crowd had done at the beginning of the Stonewall Riots, they began to sing. First \"America the Beautiful.\" Then the more political \"We Shall Overcome.\" Then a chant first heard during the previous summer's riots began to resound inside the Sixth Precinct station: \"Gay power! Gay power! Gay power!\"\n\nAs the police became preoccupied with Vinales, some of the arrested men wandered into what apparently was the captain's office and took over a pair of phones. They called _The New York Times_ , the _New York Post_ , and the _Daily News_ to apprise them of what had happened. _The Times_ and the _Post_ were not responsive, but the _Daily News_ seemed keenly interested and dispatched a photographer to the Charles Street station. One man called a lawyer. Another man called Marty Robinson and Jim Owles. To even up the score some more, they took record books from the office and dumped them down a shaft.\n\nAt ten o'clock on Sunday morning, Arthur Bell felt groggy as he wandered into his bathroom and turned on the radio. As he listened to the news, word came of a police raid on an after-hours bar in Greenwich Village in which two hundred were arrested and an unidentified man had been seriously hurt. The injured man had been taken to St. Vincent's Hospital. Bell jolted awake as he immediately realized that a gay bar had been raided once again. Bell roused Evans, signaling to him to listen to the news as Bell went to the phone and started making calls to learn what had happened.\n\nNews of the tragic incident had spread throughout the gay community, interspersed with rumors that Vinales had died or was dying, so it did not take Bell long to grasp what had happened. When he could not reach Jim or Marty, he called Bob Kohler and suggested that GLF and GAA and all the rest of the homosexual community join in a protest action that evening. Kohler did not think a protest could be pulled together on such short notice. At noon, Bell finally reached Jim and Marty, who had already gotten the news via the phone call from the police station.\n\nIt was Bell who suggested that all GAA members be called to an emergency meeting. Only two hours later, thirty GAA members were gathered at Jim and Marty's apartment. Everyone agreed that it was essential to act that day to signal the community's outrage. A protest march was decided on, to be followed by a vigil at St. Vincent's Hospital, where Vinales, who had not obliged the police by dying, lay in a coma.\n\nA pamphlet was written by Marty Robinson about the incident, which he began with the resounding lines: \"Any way you look at it\u2014that boy was PUSHED!! We are ALL being pushed.\" The march would be on the Sixth Precinct station and would start from Christopher Park, the site of the riots. GAA swung into high gear as Robinson managed to find a mimeograph machine on a cold Sunday. GAA members divided into teams to deliver the flyers to different parts of the gay world. Bell worked the phone, talking to the news media and encouraging them to cover the evening's protest. Bell found that a number of the reporters with whom he spoke remembered him from the City Hall protest a few days earlier.\n\nLater in the day, Bell noticed that Marty \"was like a tiger on the prowl, pacing back and forth excited and jumpy\": GLF had invited a number of nongay movement groups, so a very large turnout was expected.\n\nBy 9:00 P.M. five hundred demonstrators had assembled at Christopher Park, the site of the Stonewall Riots. The crowd included men and women from GAA, GLF, Homosexuals Intransigent (another recently formed gay organization), and HYMN, many gay people who were not members of organizations, heterosexuals, Yippies, members of a women's liberation group, as well as the Reverend Robert O. Weeks, the very supportive pastor of the Church of the Holy Apostles. From the park the angry demonstrators marched to the Sixth Precinct, chanting \"Say it loud: gay is proud\" and \"Stop the killings,\" as well as the emblematic refrain from the Stonewall Riots: \"Gay power!\" It had been decided the tone was to be angry but orderly, and marshals from GAA and GLF supervised the march to keep it from spilling over into the streets. As the GLF banner accompanied the marchers, Villagers gay and straight spontaneously left their apartments to join the march, while others watched astonished from their windows.\n\nWhen the crowd arrived at the police station they found that busloads of blue-helmeted TPF officers had been brought to greet them, as well as hundreds of uniformed police officers and \"countless\" plainclothesmen who encircled the area, guarding the station.\n\nBut the protesters were not cowed by this show of police force, massive as it was. Instead, the crowd called for Salvatore Salmieri, the captain, yelling, \"We want Salmieri! We want Salmieri!\" When Salmieri did not appear, the crowd chanted, \"Who gets the pay-off? The police get the pay-off!\" and \"There's the Mafia in blue!\"\n\nOwles and the Reverend Weeks approached the police, and Jim suggested that a few representatives from the crowd be allowed to enter the station and talk to the commanding officer to lower the risk of rioting by the crowd. His request was turned down.\n\nOwles turned from the police to the agitated crowd. He shouted, \"Our brother lies near death at St. Vincent's Hospital! We've made our point to the police by our numbers! Now we will march in solemn procession to the hospital.\" The crowd calmed down somewhat and walked over to the hospital, with hundreds carrying lighted candles. There the crowd held a silent vigil march across the street from the hospital. They then returned to Christopher Park, but only after retracing the footsteps of the rioters from the previous summer by spontaneously detouring onto Gay Street as they headed up Christopher Street. To have been able to turn out a crowd half a thousand strong in cold weather in a few hours to march on a police station on behalf of gay rights was a measure of how far the new gay liberation movement had progressed in the seven months since its birth.\n\nThe raid on the Snake Pit and Diego Vinales's tragic accident received fairly intense media coverage in New York City, the most attention the issue of homosexuality had received since the Stonewall Riots. The substantial media coverage that the Snake Pit raid received was a direct result of the way the Stonewall Riots had politicized the gay world: there were presently not only two organized groups of highly militant, activist gay men and lesbians but also three gay newspapers where before there had been none: in addition to _Gay Power_ and _Come Out!_ , there was _Gay_ , which had been started by Jack Nichols and Lige Clarke. The erotic and wildly successful newspaper _Screw_ had given Lige and Jack a column to write on homosexuality in 1969, called \"The Homosexual Citizen.\" The column had proven so popular that Lige and Jack had soon realized that a gay newspaper might be financially sustainable. Also, after Stonewall the couple realized that the homosexual community was entering a historic phase, and they wanted to create a newspaper of record for the era. _Screw_ 's publisher, Al Goldstein, agreed to finance the new paper, and Jack and Lige hired some of their friends from the old homophile movement, such as Kay Tobin, Dick Leitsch, and Randy Wicker, to help record the unfolding history of gay liberation.\n\nWhile both _Gay_ and _Gay Power_ had around twenty-five thousand readers each, the new movement was also having some success with the nongay press. The protest at City Hall was covered by the _New York Post, Women's Wear Daily, Long Island Press_ , WCBS, WINS, WBAI, and WABC-TV, as well as making the front page of the Spanish-language newspaper _El Diario_. _The Village Voice_ noted that the number of gay bars in New York City seemed to have doubled since the Stonewall Riots.\n\nFor these and other reasons, the Snake Pit incident got so much attention that it galvanized the just-born gay liberation movement. Not only did the raid pump more energy into a movement that was already highly energized, but it also inspired GAA to take their previous strategy of creative, direct confrontations a critical step forward to create a new form of political protest, combining militancy, guerrilla theater, and gay sensibility in the form of camp. It was this innovative tactic of bold, face-to-face encounters, created by Marty Robinson, that eventually won the fledgling movement significant media coverage and finally put the issue of lesbian and gay rights permanently on the political map.\n\nArthur Evans recalled how the Snake Pit incident (and GAA's political analysis of the root cause) inspired the invention of what GAA came to call a zap: \"John Lindsay was the mayor of New York who had gotten elected by a plurality of black and gay votes, a Republican liberal with a nice plastic smile, very gracious on television but really unwilling to put any teeth in his rhetoric. As a result, there was a step-up of police raids on gay bars.\n\n\"The Snake Pit incident truly outraged us, and we put out a leaflet saying that, in effect, regardless of how you looked at it, Diego Vinales was pushed out the window and we were determined to stop it. We decided that the politics that were going on that allowed this to happen [was something that] we felt in our personal lives: it wasn't just an abstract political issue with us. People were being impaled. People were terrified, being arrested, careers broken. There was no division for us between the political and personal. We were never given the option to make that division. We lived it.\n\n\"So we decided that people on the other side of the power structure were going to have the same thing happen to them. The wall that they had built protecting themselves from the personal consequences of their political decisions was going to be torn down and politics was going to become personal for them. That meant, in effect, that we were going to disrupt Mayor Lindsay's personal life and the personal life of his family as a result of the political consequences of his administration. So we decided that every time he appeared in public or every time we could get to him, we would make life as personally uncomfortable for him as we could and remind him of the reason why.\"\n\nAs April began, it seemed timely to call on the mayor anyhow, as Jim Owles's estimate of Dontzin's sincerity had been accurate: in the month since their meeting Dontzin had neither taken any phone calls nor answered any letters from GAA.\n\nMonday, April 13, 1970, dawned a perfect spring day, which seemed appropriate for the ceremony planned for that day, the one hundredth anniversary of New York City's most prominent cultural institution, the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At 9:55 in the morning Mayor Lindsay ascended the front steps of the city's great temple of culture, where he was greeted by the museum's director, Thomas Hoving. A band played the national anthem, and then Mr. Hoving wittily introduced the mayor as \"our landlord,\" bringing a grin from Lindsay.\n\nLindsay began to speak, thanking museum patrons for caring \"deeply enough about the city and art to recognize their mutual dependency.\" As Lindsay spoke, no one seemed to pay any attention to a young man with dark hair, wearing a baseball jacket, who was slowly walking up the museum's steps. Lindsay was saying that for an entire century the city and the museum had \"nourished each other\" as the young man got closer to the podium. The mayor had just begun to praise the museum's new plaza for \"extending the museum's beauty out into the street,\" when Marty Robinson spoke into the microphone, his voice suddenly interrupting Lindsay's bland address with the question, \"When are you going to speak out on homosexual rights, Mr. Mayor?\" Lindsay smiled but did not say a word as two helmeted policemen rushed Marty off the scene.\n\nGAA members were scattered throughout the crowd, armed with leaflets, and ready to get in a line that was to form to shake the mayor's hand. As GAA members shook Lindsay's hand, they asked him questions about why he was not supporting gay rights and attempted to give him their leaflets. Some held on to the mayor's hand so long that the police had to pull them apart. While Lindsay toured the museum, one activist stuck a leaflet in his hand. Jim Owles then walked up to Lindsay and said, \"You have our leaflet. Now when the hell are you going to speak to homosexuals?\" Lindsay never quit smiling, nor did he ever say anything in response.\n\nSix days later Lindsay was blindsided again. The mayor had a weekly half-hour television program on WNEW titled _With Mayor Lindsay_ that was taped three hours before it aired. GAA had decided weeks in advance to target the April 19 show, so its members had been writing in for tickets for weeks. By mid-April they had around forty tickets for the April 19 date, enough to make up a third of the audience. That Lindsay still had not responded to the organization gave them a legitimate reason to \"zap\" him a second time.\n\nAt four o'clock thirty-seven men and at least one woman, Kay Tobin, gathered in Bell's apartment. There Arthur Evans coached them on when and how to chant, applaud, and stamp their feet in order to make the experience as unnerving as possible for Lindsay, hoping either to get him to loosen up or for some of them to be arrested. Two hours later they left Bell's apartment, which was near the television studio, departing in small groups so as not to attract attention. They had taken care to dress in a number of different styles so as to blend in with the rest of the studio audience.\n\nAt the studio Arthur Bell ran into Lindsay's counsel, Dontzin.\n\n\"I see you have some of your people here.\"\n\n\"Why haven't we heard from you?\"\n\n\"I didn't know I was to get back to you. Let's get together next week and talk.\"\n\nThat must have struck Bell as more than odd, as he had left many messages with Dontzin's secretary. When Bell pointed this out to him, Dontzin apologized, saying that he \"was over his head with work\" and really was eager to meet with Bell and Jim Owles. In fact, he would tell his secretary to set up an appointment with them for the following week.\n\nDontzin then tried to home in on what GAA had planned. How many GAA members were in the audience? Bell played dumb.\n\nWhen Lindsay appeared on the set, it was obvious that he and his staff knew that the deck had been stacked, for Lindsay was visibly nervous. His hands crammed into his trouser pockets, he crossed and uncrossed his legs repeatedly.\n\nSoon the music that announced the show's opening was played, which, providentially, was Leonard Bernstein's \"Something's Coming.\" The guest that day was Arthur Godfrey, who was appearing as an advocate for the new ecological movement.\n\nThe show started without incident as Lindsay read a Passover greeting off a TelePrompTer, but when Godfrey and the mayor began discussing ecology, the mayor's hands twiddled and he crossed his legs yet again. Marty Robinson's political innovation was already succeeding in tearing down the invisible but real wall that insulates the powerful from the negative emotional impact of their policies.\n\nWhen Godfrey observed that \"soot is what the housewife sees the most of,\" Arthur Evans rushed up to the mayor shouting, \"Homosexuals want an end to job discrimination!\" as another GAA member followed him, saying, \"Let that man speak!\" Security guards grabbed the disrupters and pulled them through an exit door. There was a huge noise created by dozens of stamping feet, accompanied by shouts of \"Answer the question! Answer the question!\" A member of the audience yelled out, \"Are you in favor of repeal of the sodomy laws?\"\n\nThe television cameras stopped rolling, and Lindsay quietly spoke: \"My counsel, Michael Dontzin, will meet with those who want to see him outside.\" The mayor's good-cop act was followed by a member of his staff who darkly but incoherently threatened, \"You cannot disrupt a public meeting under threat of arrest. You either leave in peace or are under arrest.\" As Bell would later write in his _Gay Power_ column, \"Nobody pays him [any] mind.\"\n\nBoth Lindsay and Godfrey, Bell wrote, looked \"terribly uncomfortable.\" As a cameraman said, \"Let's pick it up from...\" a GAA member heard a straight person behind him say, \"Lindsay is phony as hell. He has to read off tapes. He can't answer questions unless he has prepared answers. Now he's threatening arrest.\"\n\nWhen the taping resumed, GAA members in the audience proceeded according to plan, taking statements made by Lindsay or Godfrey, reinterpreting them in gay terms, and firing them back. When Godfrey mentioned abandoned cars, Phil Raia shouted, \"And what about abandoned homosexuals?\" The camera stopped and Raia was escorted out of the studio. When Lindsay made a comment about one-way bottles, Jim Owles shouted, \"What about a one-way mayor\u2014nonreturnable?\" Owles gave a V-for-Victory sign as he was led outside. The funniest improvisation came when Lindsay's observation \"If you're stuck in a traffic jam, it's illegal to blow your horn,\" elicited the response: \"It's illegal in New York to blow anything.\" At that point, according to Bell, the looks on the faces of Godfrey, Lindsay, and the program directors said, _What next_?\n\nTen days later, Marty Robinson, Jim Owles, and Arthur Evans were ushered into Michael Dontzin's City Hall office, accompanied by Arthur Bell and Kay Tobin to cover the meeting for their respective gay newspapers, _Gay Power_ and _Gay_. Present from the city besides Dontzin were Deputy Mayor Aurelio and Harry Taylor, chief of patrol for the New York Police Department, who was there to act as Police Commissioner Leary's representative.\n\nAurelio started the meeting by saying that he did not like GAA's public confrontations with the mayor, which he hoped would cease. Bell retorted that if Lindsay would speak publicly on gay issues, there would be no need for the confrontations.\n\nMarty Robinson then opened a notebook that contained a list of demands. First on the list was a \"moratorium on police raids and harassment to give time to the authorities to work on solutions to the underlying problems of the State Liquor Authority and Police Department corruption.\" Bell noticed that Chief Taylor winced as the indictment of his police force was read, inspiring Bell to say, \"Since the raids on the Stonewall and the Snake Pit and the resulting riots, homosexuals will no longer sit back and take shit from the police. One of the reasons we're here is to forewarn you that spontaneous riots might break out again this summer if police harassment continues.\" Bell's statement in turn inspired Taylor to chime in that Seymour Pine had been transferred back to Brooklyn. Aurelio added, \"It's not the policy of the police department to harass homosexuals per se.\"\n\nArthur Evans spoke up next, observing that there were two kinds of harassment that homosexuals experienced: harassment that has a legal basis and harassment the police did while knowing that there was no legal justification, making the arrests only for the purpose of intimidation. Evans was insistent: \"This last type of harassment must stop immediately. We will not tolerate it. Often police direct verbal abuses at homosexuals that are disgusting. We demand that a directive go out that this police practice stop.\"\n\nAfter more demands by the GAA representatives and assurances by the public officials that they understood GAA's concerns and would work with GAA to address them, the meeting ended. This time it was Bell who left the room doubting the city officials' sincerity about a summer moratorium on raids.\n\nGAA was growing steadily by leaps and bounds, yet Craig Rodwell was having difficulty getting GLF or GAA to regularly send representatives to the meetings he was holding to organize the first Christopher Street Liberation Day (CSLD). After the resolution endorsing the creation of CSLD had passed at ERCHO the previous November, all groups that were ERCHO affiliates were invited to send representatives to the meetings to plan the first observance of the \"gay holiday.\" But few did. This was in part because of distance, for most ERCHO organizations were outside New York City.\n\nCraig and a small number of workers labored on to plan the observance, with Fred Sargeant, Michael Brown, and GLF treasurer Marty Nixon doing most of the work, assisted by Mattachine member Foster Gunnison.\n\nAs was so often the case with lesbian and gay organizing, ideology tended to derail the work at hand. Craig had to ride herd constantly over members of the committee to keep them focused on making the CSLD march a success. As each meeting began, Rodwell tried to forestall debates by reminding the other committee members that although all of them came from different political, sexual, and racial backgrounds, their job was \"to put together a mass community march\" that would bring all the elements of the community together. When discussion did veer off into the theoretical, Craig would let the discussion go on for a while before raising a practical point with a remark such as, \"Who's going to take these leaflets up to the Bronx? 'Cause this woman is offering to put leaflets around on telephone poles. Somebody has to take them up to her.\"\n\nOnce when Craig made a motion to put a notice in _The Village Voice_ to advertise the march, a self-styled radical went off on a tirade, asking, \"How can we spend a hundred and twenty dollars on ads when there are people starving to death in this city?\" Craig then made a motion to scrap the advertising budget for the march and spend the money instead on buying hot dogs to pass out in the Bowery. Taken aback, the man opposed to buying the ad suddenly withdrew his objections.\n\nBy May of 1970 GAA had collected six thousand signatures on their petition addressed to Carol Greitzer, but the councilwoman had refused to accept the petitions. On May 11, Jim Owles met with Greitzer at City Hall and got a frigid reception, with Owles reporting that she \"didn't want anything to do with [GAA].\" She would neither sponsor nor cosponsor an employment discrimination bill, nor would she testify at the City Human Rights Commission.\n\nFrom an article in _Gay Power:_\n\nTwo evenings later... thirty-five members of Gay Activists Alliance confronted Mrs. Greitzer at an open meeting of the Village Independent Democratic Club.\n\n... Before entering the big meeting hall, she... made small talk with a man she called Marty. But then she entered, and suddenly, bedlam. A roar she will never forget.\n\nPoor Carol fidgeted.... She told Marty she was going to leave. She was persuaded to hear it out.... And she and all of those V.I.D.'ers... heard Arthur Evans say, \"Carol Greitzer refused to accept the petitions. She said she would not sponsor a job discrimination bill.... If she doesn't relate to the homosexual cause, the Village Independent Democratic Club doesn't relate and we are prepared to sit in.\"\n\nMrs. Greitzer turned to platform chairman Robert Egan, and said, under her breath, \"I don't want to make a statement.... Tell them I have a terrible cold. I didn't refuse those petitions.... I had too many things to carry....\"\n\n... Carol reneges. Her dark eyes flash.... \"The Attorney General is the person who has done most this past year with civil rights legislation.... I can't get it done.\"\n\nSomeone says, \"You refuse to represent us in City Council?\"\n\nMrs. Greitzer says, \"Is there a specific piece of legislation you're talking about?\"\n\nArthur Evans says, yes, and elaborates the points in the petition.\n\nGreitzer retorts, \"My stand is there is no way of getting this through... not even with bombs.\"\n\nJim Owles says, \"The very least we expect is a commitment, Mrs. Greitzer.... You've never issued a positive statement about homosexuals. You are guilty of a crime of silence.\"\n\nAll join in, [chanting] \"Guilty of a crime of silence.\"...\n\n\"Will you back us up?\" asks someone from G.A.A.\n\n\"Yes,\" says Mrs. Greitzer...\n\n\"Will you co-sponsor a bill?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" says Mrs. Greitzer in a tone that can only be described as exasperated defeat.\n\n\"Do you accept the petitions?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" says Mrs. Greitzer, who fortunately has one free arm for lugging that night.\n\nAs a week of celebrations to commemorate the Stonewall Riots was in full swing, members of GAA planned their own special celebration by sitting in at the Republican State Committee headquarters. Arthur Evans, Marty Robinson, Tom Doerr, Jim Owles, Phil Raia, Cary Yurman, and Arthur Bell and a few other GAA members arrived at the headquarters a little after noon on June 24.\n\nThey were greeted by an emissary who said, \"If you have legitimate grievances, I will see to it that they are forwarded to the right party.\"\n\nArthur Evans replied, \"We want Rockefeller to come out and fight for homosexual rights. Rockefeller is guilty of a crime of silence, and we are not leaving until we get a satisfactory answer to our demands.\"\n\nThe employee with whom they were speaking complained, \"You did not call for an appointment! You have not made a legitimate request!\"\n\nArthur Bell described GAA's quick response to the bureaucratic run-around the employee was trying to pull on them: \"We just unwound and made ourselves comfortable on the floor of the reception room until they got the picture.\"\n\nMeanwhile, downstairs, in midtown Manhattan, a GAA picket line had been thrown up, with demonstrators chanting, \"Two-four-six-eight, gay is just as good as straight! Three-five-seven-nine lesbians are mighty fine!\" and, \"Say it loud: Gay is proud!\" As the day wore on, the pickets began to hold hands, kiss, and hug. Every half hour a member of the sit-in contingent would send a report downstairs that nothing was happening. TV and other news media went inside to photograph and interview the GAA members as they sat in.\n\nAt 5:00 P.M., with the protesters still there, the office could not be closed. At 6:30 a phone call came from the chair of the New York Republican Party agreeing to meet with a representative of GAA. Jim Owles said he would do it provided a member of the press could come along. The chairman would not agree to that, and Owles would not give in on his demand. The police soon showed up, and those sitting in huddled and agreed that Evans, Owles, Raia, Robinson, and Doerr would remain to be arrested\u2014the first people ever arrested for a gay sit-in in New York.\n\nThe five arrested men, soon dubbed the Rockefeller Five, were then taken to be arraigned. Activists worked the phones and by 8:00 had forty people at the Criminal Court. As the five entered, the forty GAA members stood up and held hands, causing a commotion in the courtroom.\n\nAll five were booked on a charge of criminal trespass and let free on their own recognizance. A trial was set for August 5. Outside the courtroom, Marty Robinson made a statement to a _New York Post_ reporter: \"We are trying to use political power to achieve changes that will benefit homosexuals in the state. We want homosexuals to know who has been responsible for inaction regarding their civil rights, and we also wish to charge the state with corruption, such as the State Liquor Authority's nonissuance of licenses to gay bars.\"\n\nRecalling the quotation he had often read on the arch in Washington Square, \"Let us raise a standard to which the wise and the honest may repair,\" Arthur Evans says, \"I think that that's what GAA was doing. We were setting an example for people who were ready to come to that standard and join the struggle and make an example of their lives. That was extraordinary because it was a concept of democracy that almost doesn't exist in this society, a Walt Whitman type of democracy. Walt Whitman speaks of democracy and adhesiveness and the dear love of comrades. All that was in GAA. Democracy for us wasn't voting once every four years in an election which the Supreme Court would then throw out. It wasn't that kind of democracy.\n\n\"It was a direct, immediate democracy. We decided how we were going to govern ourselves and we governed ourselves that way. We decided who our leaders were. We elected them; we knew them all, face-to-face. We went into battle with them. We put ourselves at risk with them. We evaluated in person what we did. When we made a mistake, we evaluated it; we corrected it.\n\n\"So what was wonderful about it, I think, was that we discovered what democracy is. We learned that what we call democracy in this society is really a shadow of democracy. We learned to create a democratic life of work and struggle and sex and love and commitment, and we controlled it all, in person, face-to-face.\n\n\"So we were inspired to take that seed of lived democracy and make it spread into the body politic, to make it spread into the world. And that, I think, was one of GAA's greatest achievements. GAA was a school for democracy.\"\n\nIn the future lay many more zaps that would be planned and executed with brilliant panache and inspiring courage. It came to GAA's attention that an agency named Fidelifacts routinely collected information on individuals who were homosexual and sold that information to prospective employers. GAA inquired about the practice only to be told that \"if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, we call it a duck.\" Members of GAA organized a picket demonstration against the company and Marty Robinson came dressed as a duck. When _Harper's_ magazine printed a highly insulting article on homosexuality and then refused to print an apology or a rebuttal by GAA, members of GAA showed up at their offices unannounced bringing cookies and coffee and while some approached staff members saying, \"I'm a homosexual; have a doughnut,\" others occupied the office of the magazine's editor. When a member of the city's marriage bureau made gratuitous insults about homosexuals wanting to marry, that office was taken over by GAA members who answered the phones and informed callers that \"today we're only issuing marriage licenses to homosexuals. Are you a homosexual?\" And when John Lindsay continued to withhold his full backing to passage of a gay rights law for New York City, GAA members sabotaged the announcement of his bid for the U.S. presidency by handcuffing themselves to the railings of the top balconies of Radio City Music Hall the moment Lindsay strode to the podium. As Lindsay tried to speak, the activists released hundreds of flyers stating their demands on the audience, all the while shouting for Lindsay to address their concerns.\n\nThese brilliant tactics and much more\u2014the constant organizational work done by GAA and GLF, the dances they held, the publications they put out, the centers they started\u2014succeeded in making the gay liberation movement flourish. As Frank Kameny stated, \"By the time of Stonewall, we had fifty to sixty gay groups in the country. A year later there was at least fifteen hundred. By two years later, to the extent that a count could be made, it was twenty-five hundred.\"\n\nLegal gay bars also proliferated in New York City in the early seventies. While Mattachine\u2013New York had done much of the work to make this possible through its legal efforts, Dick Leitsch feels that the main reason for their spread was Diego Vinales's impalement as a result of the raid on the Snake Pit: \"The photos of that sickened the public and outraged even the cops. The public attitude was that the cops (and liquor agents) were out of control [and] being unnecessarily brutal.\"\n\nAs for the Stonewall Inn, the club that played such a pivotal role in bringing about this revolution, it survived the riots by about three months: passersby noticed a STORE FOR RENT sign appeared in its window sometime in the month of October 1969. There are several reasons that could explain its quick demise. First, as an expression of anger at Mafia exploitation, Craig Rodwell urged the gay populace to boycott the club. Second, the bar tried to do business as a juice bar, no longer serving alcohol. This is linked to the third reason, which is probably the true reason the club failed: Chuck Shaheen said that after the riots, the club was too notorious to remain open. Shaheen attributed this in part to timing, for the media was beginning to focus on the issue of police corruption. Shaheen explains, \"We were told, This is it. Forget this. This has gotten too much notoriety, too much everything. We can never let this place open again.\" As for Fat Tony, Chuck Shaheen merely stated that he was \"eventually\" killed without providing any further details. In another part of the interview Shaheen said that Fat Tony, who was a heavy user of drugs, including crystal methamphetamine, talked freely when he was on drugs and that Fat Tony had become an \"embarrassment\" to other mobsters. This is one reason that Shaheen knew as much as he did about the Stonewall's business operations, including things Shaheen said he should not have known. If what Shaheen was told about his former boss's demise is true, perhaps Fat Tony died because he was not careful enough about observing the Mafia code of silence.\n\nThe Mafia-owned bars were initially opposed to the annual celebrations of the Stonewall Riots. But Ed Murphy, seeing that the marches doubled in size between the first and second marches, founded the Christopher Street Festival Committee in 1972 and by 1974 had succeeded in reversing the march's direction. Whereas the first marches began in the Village at the site of the riots and went up to Central Park, Murphy manipulated matters so that the march started uptown and went down to the Village, so that he and his cronies could once again make money off the gay populace as they drank in the bars and ate food at the festival. As the Stonewall Riots became more famous, he took to riding in the annual marches in a car, calling himself \"the first Stonewaller\" to try to take credit for making the riots happen in the first place.\n\nMurphy officially \"came out\" in 1978, claiming to have quit both his careers as a criminal freelancer and an FBI informer because he wanted to work for gay liberation. He then began to put in appearances at political events to talk about gay rights. He told one prominent gay publication that \"he is the only person from Stonewall who is still interested in gay rights; the others 'are too interested in making money in bars.' \" The last place Murphy worked at before his death from AIDS in 1989 was Trix\u2014a hustler bar. In 1992, Randy Wicker led a fight to wrest back control of the festival from Murphy's associates.\n\nAs for the gay street youth, the main instigators of the Stonewall Riots, Bob Kohler dragged some of them to the first meetings of GLF and tried to get them involved. But the youths lacked the political understanding, experience, and emotional maturity to participate in a meaningful way. While they sometimes took part as foot soldiers in the early gay liberation movement\u2014handing out flyers or attending demonstrations\u2014they did not play a role in the politicization of the gay world.\n\nOn Sunday, June 28, 1970, Craig Rodwell went to Sheridan Square to prepare for the first Christopher Street Liberation Day march, not quite sure what to expect. Crowds were to assemble on two nearby streets, Washington Place and Waverly Place between Sixth and Seventh avenues. The first signs were not encouraging. People were throwing eggs from buildings in the assembly areas at those preparing to march, and probably fewer than a thousand people had gathered. Still, Craig told himself, a thousand would be the largest gay demonstration ever. Even his friends on the committee who had planned the event with him had predicted that they would never get more than a thousand people to march all the way from the Village to Central Park, where there was to be an assembly, or Gay-in, at the Sheep Meadow.\n\nThe police did not want to let Craig delay starting the march, despite his desire to do so. He felt certain that more people would eventually show up. Before the march began, those in the crowd were warned not to wear glasses or loose jewelry around their necks in case someone attacked them. A number of local heterosexuals had shown up to watch. How would they react? The crowd seemed nervous. Sam Agostino and his friend had brought their dogs along so that if the marchers were attacked, they could just leave the march and claim that they were out walking their dogs. Half of the gay crowd that had gathered hung back on the sidewalks, trying to decide if they should join in and step out into the street.\n\nWhen the march started, participants walked so quickly because of their fear of violence that later the event was jokingly referred to by some as the \"first run\" rather than the \"first march.\"\n\nBut step off it did, led by a simple banner at the head of the march that read: \"Christopher Street Gay Liberation Day 1970.\" Alongside the banner a blond youth carried an American flag, followed by the Gay Activists Alliance contingent, two hundred strong. Lesbians and gay men had come from Philadelphia, Washington, and Baltimore to participate. Representatives of the Mattachine Society of New York marched, as did members of the Daughters of Bilitis. A new radical lesbian group, the Lavender Menace, joined in, along with representatives from Yale, Rutgers, and New York University. Marching with the Gay Liberation Front contingent were some of the homeless street youth. All in all, approximately twenty different groups were represented.\n\nRight away those marching could see that there were a lot of gay people on the sidewalks, trying to decide if it was safe to join in. Bit by bit they did. The march grew larger and larger, expanding beyond what had seemed probable or even possible. As the numbers increased, the crowd became more and more excited and spirited, inspiring still more gay people on the sidelines to join. Foster Gunnison had come up with his own scheme for calculating the crowd's size, and as the march progressed, he dashed back and forth tracking numbers and performing computations. Finally he ran up to Craig and excitedly announced that at least two thousand people were marching.\n\nFortunately, there was no violence, which Craig attributed in part to bewilderment on the part of heterosexual onlookers: \"I think people were so shocked to see thousands of queers. At first they just can't believe it. 'Queers' was that one person they saw walking their French poodle with the rhinestone collar about ten years ago.... They just couldn't deal with it. They would stand with their mouths open, a blank face.\"\n\n_The Village Voice_ recorded the astonished looks: \"No one could quite believe it, eyes rolled back in heads, Sunday tourists traded incredulous looks, wondrous faces poked out of air-conditioned cars.\"\n\nAs various high points along the route were reached, marchers could look back and get a sense of the march's size. Many could not believe its length. Some marchers in the middle were even more amazed when they noticed that looking in both directions they could see neither the head nor the end of the march.\n\nThe GAA contingent started to chant, \"Out of the closets and into the streets!\" over and over.\n\nAnother group chanted, \"Give me a _G_!\"\n\n_\"G!\"_\n\n\"Give me an _A_!\"\n\n_\"A!\"_\n\n\"Give me a _Y_!\"\n\n_\"Y!\"_\n\nAnd on until, \"What do you have?\" was answered with full-throated yells of \"Gay power! Gay power! Gay power!\"\n\nThe march was fifteen blocks long by the time it hit 22nd Street, where a woman leaned out of an office window to throw streamers of film to celebrate the marchers, who in turn applauded her. As the sun shone brightly, more and more men removed their shirts, lending an erotic cast to the march. Signs included: \"I am a lesbian and I am beautiful,\" \"Hi, Mom!,\" \"Smash Sexism,\" \"Me too\" (on a dachshund), and \"Homosexual is not a four-letter word.\"\n\nThe cathartic moment for most marchers was yet to come, however. As the marchers reached first Central Park and then the Sheep Meadow, they came to a high point by a granite outcropping that gave an almost panoramic view of the march. There, at that high point, many stopped and cried tears of joy in a moment they would never forget, as they looked out at the vast numbers of gay men and lesbians who had turned out to support each other by marching proudly in the open.\n\nFranklin Kameny could hardly believe the crowd of thousands he saw in the Sheep Meadow. It had been only five years and three months since he and Jack Nichols had organized the first picket demonstration by a gay organization. On that day the ten people who participated had been worried that rocks would be thrown at them and so they had not alerted the press about their plans.\n\nIt had been Kameny who had coined and propagated the phrase \"Gay is good,\" and in his 1968 essay with that title he had written: \"I say that it is time to open the closet door and let in the fresh air and the sunshine; it is time to doff and discard the secrecy... to live your homosexuality fully, joyously, openly, and proudly, assured that morally, socially, physically, psychologically, emotionally, and in every other way: _Gay is good_. It is.\" At that first Stonewall Riots commemoration in 1970, it must have seemed to him that his 1968 vision was already coming true.\n\n# Conclusions\n\nThe received wisdom about the Stonewall Riots is that such an event was inevitable. This proposition is untenable, however, for there were many raids on gay bars before and after the raid at the end of June 1969 on the Stonewall Inn, and none of them resulted in any kind of sustained uprising.\n\nIt is equally untenable to maintain that the riots' occurrence around the particular club, the Stonewall Inn, was simply fortuitous, that the events that took place there could have happened at any number of gay bars. On the contrary, the Stonewall Inn both as a social institution and as a geographic site had a number of unique or special features that, taken together, explain why the riots erupted there: the club was located in a large homosexual ghetto, so thousands of gay men and women could learn of the event quickly and become involved; within that ghetto, the club was strategically located, being only about two hundred feet from the ghetto's epicenter, The Corner; the club was centrally situated among several major transportation systems and nodes, which made it easy for those who wanted to become involved to get there quickly; the layout of the streets around the club was a hub design, which gave the rioters the advantage of controlling the streets around the Stonewall, for this pattern made it easy for them to enter and exit the area and correspondingly difficult for the police to seal it off; the combination of being a transportation nexus, having a hublike design, and having a lot of foot traffic meant that there were many public telephones within feet of the club that those supporting the riots could use to notify the press and friends; the club was the city's largest gay club; the club had a significant amount of open space in front of it, so that there was room for a sizable crowd to collect; most of the streets in the Stonewall's immediate vicinity were narrow, one-way streets that gave the advantage to pedestrians and the disadvantage to police vehicles; the street pattern around the club is highly irregular, which made it confusing for the riot police, many of whom lived in other boroughs, whereas many of the demonstrators lived in or frequented the Village and were familiar with the area; unlike most gay bars of the era, which were short-lived, the Stonewall had been in existence for years, which contributed to the sense of identification with the club felt by a significant number of its patrons; the club was popular with all segments of the community, so that when it was attacked, the entire community felt under attack; its broad appeal notwithstanding, the Stonewall Inn was particularly popular with the most marginal members of the gay community, gay homeless youths, so that they felt a special loyalty to the club; because of their anger, their age, and their alienation, these gay homeless youths were ideal candidates to fight in a riot; the club was across the street from one of the main places where these marginalized persons congregated; and the club offered the largest venue for dancing for gay men and lesbians and was the place where they could dance most freely, endowing the club with a special meaning as a site for full and free self-expression. These factors came together with others to create the Stonewall Riots.\n\nSeveral conditions that helped precipitate the event relate to timing: the raid occurred during an election campaign (which had traditionally been the time for the worst harassment operations), making gay people assume that the raid's only purpose was to oppress them; it came late on a Friday night in an entertainment district in the week that schools were letting out, which meant that the club was very crowded and that there were many persons out on the streets; that the raid, atypically, took place late in the evening also meant that the crowd inside the bar had had adequate time to consume alcohol, lowering their inhibitions; it was the first hot weekend of the summer, and riots often coincide with high temperatures, apparently because heat increases irritability; the raid came shortly after a campaign of harassment by vigilantes in Queens, and some gay people present at the Stonewall that night were aware of those incidents; it was the last in a series of raids on gay bars, all in the same neighborhood; and it was the second raid that week on the Stonewall Inn.\n\nThat the Stonewall Inn was located in New York City further contributed to the riots' success: only in a very large city were there gay activists with the specialized skills to take on leadership roles to help shape and direct the event so that it could realize its potential. Consider Craig Rodwell and John O'Brien. The first was a gay activist who knew all the other gay activists in the city, and the second a radical who knew street-fighting tactics. That two such activists happened upon the riots within minutes of each other is not something that could have occurred in many other places. New York's size is relevant to another contributing factor: the riots took place not just in the world's media capital but on a block with two significant media sites: _The Village Voice_ , the country's leading alternative newspaper at the time, was only about fifty feet away, and the Lion's Den, the Village's main social center for journalists, was even closer. That, of all the reporters who covered the riots, Howard Smith, Lucian Truscott, and the unknown _Rat_ reporter\u2014the three who wrote the most detailed accounts of the riots' outbreak\u2014simply stumbled across the event is a striking coincidence. It demonstrates how the power of certain features of the Stonewall's physical and social geography, key in creating the riots, was exponentially enhanced by being in New York City: had the Stonewall's immediate geography been the same, for example, but located in another city that was not a media center, would the event have been covered by the press at all and, if it had been, would such local coverage have mattered?\n\nThere are other factors behind the riots that are significant on the macro level. First, Greenwich Village in the 1960s was both the best-known gay community in America and the place where homosexuality was most aggressively policed. This demonstrates that the basic preconditions were in place for a possible revolt by the members of that ghetto. Second, historians have observed that revolutions tend to happen after periods of liberalization. From all I have learned about the history of the homosexual community in New York City during the 1960s, I feel that this principle is an underlying cause of the Stonewall Riots. Indeed, one sees the same phenomenon occuring in another gay and transgendered community in the 1960s that almost exactly parallels the situation in New York City. Compton's Cafeteria in San Francisco was the principal refuge for that gay community's most marginalized members, transgendered persons and gay street youth. After both of these communities were given hope\u2014by transsexual surgery becoming obtainable and by ministry provided by the Glide Memorial Church and the Council on Religion and the Homosexual\u2014these communities rioted when their sole place of refuge was endangered. Like the Stonewall Riots, this smaller but also violent uprising occurred during a period when harassment was easing in San Francisco because of successes by a local homophile movement. Given the same results in parallel situations, to ignore this principle noted by historians would be to willfully ignore the evidence. It would also make the riots' occurrence during the Lindsay administration difficult to explain: that is, why did the riots occur during the most enlightened administration on matters homosexual New Yorkers had ever seen, particularly as it followed the most repressive administration gay New Yorkers had ever endured, that of Mayor Wagner?\n\nNew York Mattachine's at-times ambivalent response to the riots aside, given this historic tendency it seems probable that without the successful campaign by the Mattachine Society of New York to end entrapment and its partial success in legalizing gay bars, the riots might not have occurred. Indeed, this view was espoused by none other than Craig Rodwell. When Michael Scherker, a historian of the riots, asked him whether \"in the month or weeks before the Stonewall Riots... was there anything different... that... was a preparation?\" Rodwell answered, \"I think the four or five years before the Stonewall Riots were preparation.... Mattachine finally got going.... We finally started having a large membership and... we started to get some media coverage of our issues.... I think largely through the actions of the gay organizations, SIR in San Francisco, Mattachine here in New York in particular, and Mattachine in Washington.\"\n\nFinally, that the Stonewall Riots occurred during a period of great social change and unrest\u2014the civil rights and the antiwar movements in particular\u2014has to be added to the list of factors that caused the riots. The sixties was a time so open that even society's basic beliefs about sex, gender, and sexuality were being questioned on multiple fronts: by the reborn movement for women's rights, the sexual revolution, and androgynous styles in fashion. Challenging bedrock beliefs about sex and gender led to questioning assumptions about sexual orientation.\n\nThis intersection of many varied factors\u2014geographical, social, political, and cultural\u2014at the Stonewall Inn on Christopher Street shows that when Craig Rodwell, pressed by Michael Scherker to explain what had caused the riots, answered, \"There are certain... events in history where... everything comes together at one particular moment,\" he was closer to the truth than he suspected. Certainly it was an event of a kind rare in history, one where without any planning of any kind all the necessary elements came together in just the right way to start a revolutionary change in human consciousness that is profoundly for the better. Rather than being an inevitable event that could have happened almost anywhere, the riots could have occurred only at the Stonewall Inn.\n\nFinally, that the preconditions existed for such an event to not only occur but to bear such positive fruit is demonstrated by the beginnings of a new gay militancy first on the West Coast, as evidenced by, for example, Leo Laurence's activism and Carl Wittman's \"Gay Manifesto,\" and later on the East Coast with Bill Katzenberg trying to start a gay Left group in the months before the riots and _Queen's Quarterly_ urging gay men to learn judo and karate. These attitudes and actions show the influence of the New Left, another critical element of the event's underpinning.\n\nHaving considered what did cause the riots, it is worth considering another event that is often said to have caused them, the death of Judy Garland. The bibliography\u2014that humble and uniquely useful research tool\u2014gives us four essential pieces of information relevant to the theory that Garland's death caused the riots: (1) No eyewitness account of the riots written at the time by an identifiably gay person mentions Judy Garland. (2) The only account written in 1969 that suggests that Garland's death contributed to the riots is by a heterosexual who sarcastically proposes the idea to ridicule gay people and the riots. (3) \"D.D.'s New York,\" the gossip and news column of the _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ , discussed the riots once; that column begins with a description of how the local gay world has been changed since the riots and about halfway through the two-page column there is a lament over Garland's death, with other news items interposed. What makes this last piece of writing so striking is that the author is enamored of celebrities, much of the regular fare of the column being social events, movies, plays, and entertainers. The other purpose the author used the column for was to boost gay politics. Having a strong interest in both gay politics and entertainers, he was precisely the kind of person who, had there been a causal connection between the two events, would have noticed and touted it. On the contrary, what is conspicuous here is that the gossip maven makes the fallout from Stonewall the leading story, places six news items between Garland's death and the Stonewall Riots, and never connects the two events. Rather than being linked in the _only_ piece of indisputably gay writing at the time of the riots where Garland's death and the riots are both mentioned, the two events are not related. (4) _Esquire_ magazine carried an article at the end of 1969 about the emergence of the \"New Homosexual\" in the riots' wake that briefly discusses Garland but does not credit her death with inspiring the riots. The sexual orientation of the author, Tom Burke, is not clear from the article, but it is clear that he is conversant with and appreciative of gay society and culture. Although the author notes that Garland's passing coincided with the riots, he sees this as symbolic, because he sees Garland as emblematic of the \"Old Homosexual,\" who, already out of touch, became hopelessly pass\u00e9 with the changes the riots precipitated. Rather than inspiring the riots, Garland is seen as symbolically allied with the old order the riots ended and hence as a contrasting or oppositional symbol.\n\nIf the preceding is not sufficient to demonstrate that this great artist's tragic and untimely death could not have caused the riots, consider that the main fighters in the riots were street youths. These young men were not of the generation that listened to Garland, their music being rock, soul, or both. Finally, author and activist Vito Russo, a great fan of Garland's, went to pay his respects at her casket on the day the riots would begin and then witnessed the riots that night. He wrote that \"it wasn't good old Judy's death or even the full moon that caused all the trouble that night.\" Like the author of the _Esquire_ article, Russo saw Garland's funeral taking place on the day the riots broke out as symbolic of a sea change, not as its cause. He told historian Eric Marcus, \"[Her burial that day] historically marks the end of the old gay world and the beginning of a new one.\"\n\nThe question of who gets credit for starting the riots is one that deserves consideration. The question, however, contains a premise: that an individual or group of individuals can be singled out as the prime mover in a complex process that many persons collectively created. This is important for two reasons. First, as John O'Brien pointed out, there was a continuum of resistance ranging from silent persons who ignored the police orders to move to those who threw objects at the police. O'Brien maintains that it was because of those persons standing around and blocking the streets and sidewalks and keeping the police from being able to operate efficiently that he and others were able to engage in their tactics as effectively as they did: if there had been only about fifteen youths lobbing objects at the police the young men would have been quickly caught or chased away. Second, I wrote the account of the first night to reflect my understanding of what happened, namely, that until the definitive outbreak of rioting when the police retreated inside the Stonewall Inn, there was throughout the evening both a _gradual_ buildup of anger and, correspondingly, a gradual escalation in the release of that anger. In the course of that buildup there were numerous turning points, some more critical than others. With these qualifications noted, I think it is clear that special credit must be given to gay homeless youths, to transgendered men, and to the lesbian who fought the police. Among these, we can name three individuals known to have been in the vanguard: Jackie Hormona, Marsha Johnson, and Zazu Nova.\n\nA common theme links those who resisted first and fought the hardest, and that is gender transgression. While we do not know how the lesbian who fought the police saw herself, we do know that her clothing was masculine, in keeping with her general demeanor. We know from Pine's testimony that the first significant resistance that he encountered inside the bar came from transvestites, and Joel S. places them among the first outside the bar to resist. Marsha Johnson and Zazu Nova were both transvestites, and, as the reader has seen, the street youth were, generally speaking, effeminate men. All available evidence leads us to conclude that the Stonewall Riots were instigated and led by the most despised and marginal elements of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered community. My research for this history demonstrates that if we wish to name the group most responsible for the success of the riots, it is the young, homeless homosexuals, and, contrary to the usual characterizations of those on the rebellion's front lines, most were Caucasian; few were Latino; almost none were transvestites or transsexuals; most were effeminate; and a fair number came from middle-class families.\n\nWhat can one make of Seymour Pine's claims that he was ordered to put the Stonewall Inn out of business because it was being used as a site to blackmail gay men who worked in the Wall Street area? Having researched the matter as far as possible, I have concluded that Ed Murphy was using the Stonewall Inn for just that purpose. Most of the information on Murphy and blackmail that I found I came upon incidentally as I gathered other material. That I happened upon most of this information piecemeal and inadvertently increases my confidence in this evidence.\n\nThere is no definitive evidence to say conclusively whether Pine is telling the truth on this point. Because his role was so critical and a full report of his account has not been available, I have given his version of the events concerning the Stonewall Riots and have checked it where possible. Having compared his statements about the events with others, most of which were unpublished and thus unknown to him, I can say that the other accounts have on some matters corroborated his, including, for example, statements made by Ed Murphy. For example, Pine said that one of the undercover policewomen who were sent inside the club was from Chinatown's Fifth Precinct; that the two women were chosen based on their sizes (one petite and one large-framed) to look like a butch-femme couple; and that he suspected that one reason they had not exited on time was that they had been indulging in some partying. Murphy said that \"the two cops were drunk.... Even the policewoman was half-crocked. She was a Polynesian broad. And she's been coming there as a dyke.\" Finally, no account I know of disproves any statements by Pine.\n\nProfessionals who have studied the reliability of witness testimony have established two hallmarks of veracity: a willingness to acknowledge what one does not know and a consistency over time in one's recollections. The following factors weigh strongly in favor of Pine's account of the cause of the raid. When I interviewed Pine, he did not hesitate to say when he did not know, could not remember, or was not positive about information. On one occasion, he made an error, noted it, and later drew it to my attention. He has also been consistent over the years in what he has said on the subject. For example, in Morty Manford's papers I found a January 1972 term paper that he wrote while at Columbia University in which he analyzed gay milieux. In the section on gay bars he writes: \"The Gay bar scene has improved considerably in the past few years (since the _Stonewall_ Rebellion). Gays are not hiding as much (opportunities to blackmail Gay clients don't work as well for the syndicates as they used to), and Gay Liberation has flexed its muscles on a number of occasions, keeping individual bar managements in line.\" A footnote appended to the parenthetical statement about blackmail states that \"New York City Police Lieutenant Seymore [ _sic_ ] Pine reported to me that the syndicate's main source of income from Gay bars was not on the liquor, but rather on the securities information they were able to blackmail out of the bar's Wall Street clients.\"\n\nPine's consistency as demonstrated by this quotation is all the more remarkable in that it dates back to, at most, thirty months after the riots, long before there was the intense historical examination of them that began, approximately, with the approach of their twentieth anniversary. Pine gave the same explanation to David Isay in 1989 that he gave to me and also informally to tourists in Israel when he was living there in the mid-1990s.\n\nFurther corroboration of Pine's version of events was found in Dick Leitsch's papers. The following statement is from testimony Leitsch gave before the New York State Assembly at its \"Hearings on Homosexuality\" on January 7, 1971:\n\nLast year, following a wave of thefts from Wall Street brokerage houses, the State issued an order that all employees in the financial industry be fingerprinted. Because of this, many old and trusted employees had to be let go, because bonding companies will not insure known homosexuals and the fingerprint checks turned up evidence of old arrests. Banking and many other fields requiring bonds are off-limits to homosexuals because of this policy of bonding companies.\n\nThis testimony corroborates Pine on several points: first, that there had been an unusual quantity of thefts (\"a wave\") from brokerage houses; second, that \"many\" of those who were in a position to steal such bonds were, in fact, homosexual; third, the time given in Leitsch's testimony fits the time line given by Pine, who says he got the information about the thefts around mid-1969. Leitsch's testimony, given in January 1971, refers to the fingerprint order being issued \"last year,\" or in 1970, _following_ the wave of thefts. If the connection between the stolen bonds and Mafia extortion of Wall Street workers only came to light in late 1968 or early 1969, then a new policy put into effect roughly a year later, sometime in 1970, corroborates Pine's chronology. Further, if Pine was trying to fabricate a cover story based on these historical events to make himself look better in the eyes of history, it seems probable that he would have pointed this material out to me or to someone else or suggested that such material be searched for. Not only did he not point directly or indirectly to the policy changes Leitsch described, but I have found no indication anywhere that he was aware of this information. Moreover, on two occasions where Pine's versions of events at the riots differed substantially from accounts given by others whose presence there is indisputable, I have determined to my own satisfaction that Pine's statements were the accurate ones.\n\nFinally, it is notable that Pine's narrative has its own internal logic when looked at in the context of other new information contained in this history. If Murphy had the goods on J. Edgar Hoover, as I believe he did, then the investigation's origin overseas in Interpol makes perfect sense. Hoover did not control Interpol, and the results of the New York Police Department investigation, as far as Pine says he was told it went, did not implicate Hoover. Therefore, no alarms would have been sounded that would have alerted Hoover to try to quash the investigation.\n\nIf Pine is telling the truth about the reason he was told to shut down the Stonewall Inn, which seems highly probable, and if Murphy was using the Stonewall Inn to blackmail homosexual men on Wall Street, which seems certain, does this change the meaning of the Stonewall Riots? First, common sense and a historical sense would lead us to conclude that the police department's fervor for closing down the Stonewall Inn would have been inspired more by a concern for protecting the wealth of powerful persons and institutions and only secondarily, if at all, by a concern for protecting gay men. Second, while such a cause would give the riots a new context, I do not feel that it changes their meaning. The portrait of the Stonewall Inn as an institution that emerges from the historical record is a very mixed one: while it was a site of refuge and safety for some so that it functioned almost as a sort of community center, for others it was a site of exploitation and degradation. Does this mean that the Stonewall Riots should not serve as a symbol for lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered people today?\n\nI feel that the riots can and should still serve as a potent and inspiring story. The reasons I feel this way are twofold. First, by way of analogy, let us look at the history of race riots in the United States. The first race riot in American history in which African-American people were not the victims of violence but its instigators took place in New York City in 1935. The specific incident that sparked that riot was a belief that the police had beaten or even killed a youth of color. After the riot was over, it turned out that the alleged event never took place. For me, this mistake does not at all diminish the rightness of those who rioted. The affected community was routinely exploited in many ways, including by white merchants who refused to hire black workers. In other words, those who rioted may have been incorrect on that occasion about that specific injustice, but they were certainly right in the aggregate that their community was being ruthlessly exploited by merchants. The 1935 riot was an attempt by the powerless to end that injustice. Just so, several persons I interviewed told me that they felt that the terrible anger that erupted on the first night of rioting at Stonewall was not simply anger at the injustices of that night or of recent weeks but anger that went back to the harsh mistreatment of the community by Mayor Wagner. While I do not support the use of violence as a method of social and political change, I think there are exceptions to this principle. I agree with prominent author, essayist, and editor of gay and lesbian books, Michael Denneny that in this case, given that the community had no reason to believe anything other than that it was being oppressed, the violence was not only justified, it was also necessary: gay men had always been stigmatized in our culture for their perceived lack of masculinity, and their violent resistance against the police proved that these gay men possessed both moral and physical courage.\n\nSecond, Craig Rodwell's response is relevant, for the Stonewall Inn had no harsher critic than Rodwell. Yet when he saw the bar being raided he reacted with anger. As the reader has seen, he became the riots' primary supporter, doing his utmost to keep the riots going and to publicize them. Moreover, it was Rodwell who had the idea of celebrating the riots annually. His example shows that it is possible to recognize the ambivalence of the Stonewall Inn while celebrating the lesbian and gay resistance to the oppression that occurred there. In celebrating the event, the emphasis has always been placed on gay militancy and not on the club: thus the gay community was urged to boycott the Stonewall Inn after the riots, and the celebrations were originally called Christopher Street Liberation Day to underline the idea that gay people were claiming their own territory.\n\nIn conclusion, let me quote from the article \"Where It Was,\" published in a gay periodical on the riots' fifth anniversary:\n\nThe gay Stonewall was actually an illegal after hours club, operated against the laws... the hoods tending the door and roaming the floors were only too obvious. The place was packed, overcrowded and a fire hazard to boot. But \"they\" just kept piling them in.... Two and sometimes three bars dispensed drinks until sun up.... There were dark hidden corners where anything went and where some of the \"customers\" dispensed other things.... Before its arrival... that area of Christopher Street was relatively quiet.... Then came the throngs hanging around on the streets in front of the Stonewall. They sat on cars... pushed [drugs] in Sheridan Square.... Finally the neighborhood was up in arms, and rightly so.\n\nMorty Manford, then president of GAA, wrote in reply:\n\n\"Where It Was\"... bemoans the appropriateness of the Stonewall Inn as a rallying point for the Gay Liberation Movement. There is no question the bar was illegal, dirty, dingy and exploitative: in 1969 it was virtually all we had.... Crumby as it was, it was ours.... The raid was like a number of other raids I'd been in with the important exception that we fought back. A spirit of pride encapsulated in anger was articulated for the first time in modern history by Homosexuals as a group. That spirit said both explicitly and symbolically: \"We are sick of being pushed around; we are sick of being denied our Constitutional rights; and we will persevere until injustice, exploitation, harassment and discrimination end.\" There is no getting away from the fact the Stonewall Inn is a symbol of the past. It was a departure point for Gays like the Bastille was for the French people.\n\nManford concludes his letter by reminding us of some fundamental truths: \"We have undertaken a struggle of tremendous proportions that will understandably be tough, face its set-backs and take a long period of time. It is our struggle. We owe it to ourselves to discern our own best interests and support united efforts with other gays to achieve our liberation.\"\n\nManford is correct: the true legacy of the Stonewall Riots is the ongoing struggle for lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender equality. While this fight is far from over, it is now a worldwide movement that has won many significant victories, most of them flowing from those six days in the summer of 1969 when gay people found the courage to stand up for themselves on the streets of Greenwich Village.\n\n# A U T H O R ' S N O T E\n\nThe Stonewall Riots are the critical turning point in the movement for the rights of gay men and lesbians as well as for bisexual and transgendered people. This six-day struggle by gay people with the police for control of a gay ghetto constitutes an important event in American and world history, for it ultimately led to the inclusion of sexual orientation as a protected category in the civil and human rights movements. This was a significant broadening of these important historic movements and the beginning of the reversal of millennia of oppression.\n\nAs is true of so many gay men and lesbians, I have long been fascinated with this historic turning point. One of the reasons the event has been so captivating is that it seemed to both erupt out of nowhere and effect radical change with precipitate speed: less than six months after the Stonewall Riots _Esquire_ magazine announced the birth of the \"new homosexual\"\u2014and that was before the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA) was born. When I began work on this book, it was my intent to discover everything that I could about the riots in the hopes of creating a much fuller account of this event than had previously existed. I also hoped that I would be able to offer new insights into the event itself as well as to discover explanations for some questions that had long resisted resolution. Having completed this history, I feel I owe it to the reader to give some brief account of how I conducted the research for this volume.\n\nFor the most part I relied on standard methodology: a careful survey of the bibliography, thorough research in archives, and extensive interviewing of witnesses and participants. I interviewed not only persons who were at the riots, but people who participated in the movement for homosexual equality before and after Stonewall, as well as a few others who were simply participants in gay life in the Stonewall era. Those not at the riots were interviewed because they had information that would help explain the context in which the riots occurred and the immediate political changes they precipitated. To understand how radical political changes grew out of the riots and what these changes were is important because the political sea change that occurred after Stonewall is the reason the riots are important. In other words, the Stonewall Riots are important because of the political change they brought about _through_ the birth of the gay liberation movement, a wave of new gay and lesbian political organizations characterized by New Left values, including activism and militancy. Journalists and other writers, however, tend not to connect the events, instead explaining the significance of Stonewall as if one day there was a riot in New York City by gay men and then, in some mysterious way, as a result gay people across the nation formed political organizations. The truth of the matter is that Stonewall intimately links two interdependent phenomena. Bob Kohler made this salient historical point with admirable pithiness when we met one day on Greenwich Avenue. He said, \"The Stonewall Riots would be totally insignificant if the Gay Liberation Front hadn't been formed after the riots.\" After a pause, he added, \"Of course, I guess it took something like Stonewall to make the Gay Liberation Front possible.\"\n\nI began my research with a careful survey of the known bibliography, concentrating especially on the accounts written at the time of the riots. I then searched archives and discovered a number of articles published in 1969 that had not been previously noted. An unpublished letter, handwritten by an eyewitness in 1969, was discovered by historian James Sears as I was researching this book. The final addition to previously unknown 1969 reports came from a person I interviewed who had recorded a radio interview with an eyewitness either during the riots or a few days afterward. Access to interviews conducted by previous researchers with witnesses who were either dead or not locatable provided critical information, as did earlier interviews by other researchers with persons I was able to further interview. When it is not indicated in the body of this work whether someone is speaking to myself or to another interviewer, that information is contained in the notes or in the list of oral histories.\n\nWhile many persons have claimed that the 1969 accounts of the riots either conflict with each other or are not credible, the more I studied them, the more I felt that they were both highly reliable and did not conflict with one another. I discovered that if I simply reversed the order of two events in one account, then there were no major discrepancies among the 1969 accounts.* I then collated them all into one document, arranged chronologically and organized by subject matter. I found not only almost no contradictions among these accounts, but that collectively they provided a fairly detailed history of this event, and especially of the riots' outbreak.\n\nI was able to supplement these contemporary accounts with a wealth of information from oral histories. While interviewing witnesses and participants, I used maps of the area around the Stonewall Inn and asked interviewees to mark on the maps the places where they saw events occur and the position of persons and vehicles as well as where they themselves were situated. This technique sometimes provided corroboration of the testimony of other witnesses. The issue of corroboration leads to what I consider the most important aspect of the interview process for this history. Because the events at the Stonewall Riots have been so disputed, I was careful not to tell any interviewee prior to the interview what other persons had told me nor of the conclusions I had reached based upon my research. This is a critical point, for the reader will see that I was able to achieve anywhere from a moderate to a high degree of corroboration of many of this history's new findings based solely on the many interviews conducted. Further corroboration for new information was also generally obtained from archival and bibliographic materials. I did not give information about the accounts of other interviewees or share my conclusions not only so as not to influence the testimony each person might give me, but also\u2014and primarily\u2014because there has been a small number of persons whose spurious accounts, while having entered the bibliography, do not withstand careful scrutiny. It is in part because of this mere handful of persons that the contemporary accounts of the Stonewall Riots have come to be viewed with a degree of mistrust. This false testimony has naturally also made the informed public quite skeptical of most if not all accounts of the riots, and therefore I have not referred to these inaccurate accounts.\n\nBy a stroke of good fortune, my residence is only a block and a half from the former Stonewall Inn. It is also the collective good luck of those who care about gay history that the Greenwich Village Historic District, which encompasses the area where the Stonewall Riots occurred, was created the very month the insurrection occurred. While the creation of this historic district did not freeze the Village as if in amber, it did preserve the vast majority of the buildings around the locality where the riots occurred and has kept the layout of the streets essentially the same as it was in the summer of 1969. Thus I have been able to walk by the site of the riots countless times during the decade it took me to research and write this book. Being able to contemplate the setting frequently has given me a number of insights about the riots and the factors that caused them.\n\nWhile I have made every effort to quote accurately from the oral histories used in this volume, I have made the normal kinds of editorial changes, such as editing out false starts; deleting sentence fragments that, leading nowhere, would tend to confuse the reader; and supplying words (indicated by brackets) to clarify the speaker's meaning. On several occasions I have combined two or more quotations by the same person from different interviews (or, very rarely, combined an interview with a written record they left, such as a published article) into one quotation for the sake of clarity. Whenever this has been done, the sources of the original quotations are given in the notes.\n\nNames that are given in quotation marks when they first appear indicate use of a pseudonym created for this book. There are three instances in this history where accounts refer to persons without even a first name being known. As noted in each case, I created names for those persons for narrative effect: Tano, Tom, and Lawrence. I chose these names to honor the memory of deceased friends and a family member, all of whom died of AIDS. Tom Casteel and Tano Delgado, lovers in the mid-1980s, were the first new friends I made when I moved to New York. Lawrence Goudreau Jr. was the brother of my sister-in-law, Lynn.\n\nIt is part of gay culture that some gay men refer to other men with feminine pronouns, often quickly switching the gender references about one person back and forth. I have sometimes used this device when it was employed by the persons whose interviews I am quoting, not to confuse the reader but to convey the feeling and flavor of the milieu and personalities.\n\nI have generally tried to use the terminology of the 1960s in writing this history except when doing so might cause confusion or the effect might be jarring. I have also used more current terms when it seemed preferable for the sake of clarity. I have used the current term _transgender_ sparingly for two reasons: first, because the word is of recent mintage, and second, because it is an umbrella term, encompassing both transvestites (crossdressers) and transsexuals, and it usually seemed worthwhile to preserve the specificity of these more precise terms.\n\nFinally, this history is one in which the major actors were male: the Mattachine Society of New York, whose leadership was practically all male, was the only gay political organization in New York City before the riots with any political clout; the Stonewall Inn's clientele was overwhelmingly male; men probably predominated in the riots even more so than they did inside the Stonewall Inn; and most of the founders and leaders of the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) and the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA) were also male.* Given the need to keep the main thread of the story moving forward, it has not been possible to cover lesbian life in a full or representative way, any more than it has been to give a full picture of transgender or bisexual life at the time. I have tried to limit myself to describing events, persons, and communities only to the extent necessary to give the reader an adequate understanding of what led up to the Stonewall Riots and how the riots in turn led to the creation of the gay liberation movement. The same logic applies to the emphasis on New York in this history: since the Stonewall Riots took place in New York and GLF and GAA were born there, activities elsewhere have been brought in only when they seemed directly relevant to the story at hand.\n\nAn archivist who assisted me patiently for years as I worked on this book worried aloud that if too much information was definitely known about the Stonewall Riots, the event would lose its mythological power, the power to inspire. I can only say that for myself, the new material is as complex and ambiguous as life itself, making the story richer. On a more personal note, I would like to add that while working on this book, I met some of the most intelligent, generous, and interesting persons I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Together they taught me much about life and about human nature, so that I will always be grateful for all that Stonewall has taught me.\n\nDAVID CARTER\n\n_Greenwich Village_\n\n_1994\u20132004_\n\n*I am referring to the Howard Smith account published in the _Village Voice:_ If one reverses the order of the arrest of Dave Van Ronk and the police retreating into the Stonewall Inn bar (and key witnesses disagreed with Smith's chronology on this one matter, saying that Van Ronk was arrested before the police retreated into the bar, not afterward) then there is no real disagreement about the events portrayed in the 1969 accounts, other than some disagreements about the meaning of these events.\n\n**I deeply regret that Lois Hart, a key figure in GLF, appears to have left no account of her role in that organization.\n\n# A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S\n\nThe first persons I must thank are those who granted me interviews, entrusting me with their personal histories. I was often touched by the openness with which so many people spoke about their lives. I also am deeply appreciative of how patiently the persons I interviewed answered every question I had, asking them to recall details about events that took place decades ago. While I offer my sincere thanks to all those I interviewed, I would feel negligent if I did not name certain persons who showed extraordinary patience and generosity in answering my every question over numerous interviews: Thomas Lanigan-Schmidt, Danny Garvin, John O'Brien, Bob Kohler, Seymour Pine, and Jack Nichols. Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt also went to extraordinary lengths to help me understand several aspects of gay life critical to this history: without him I never would have understood either the gay street youth or what the Stonewall Inn meant to them, and thus would have missed the most critical elements of this history.\n\nDick Leitsch not only gave me many interviews and faithfully provided detailed answers to follow-up queries, but gave me unfettered access to his personal papers, which proved to be an extremely valuable source. Other pioneering figures who shared their personal papers include Randy Wicker, Barbara Gittings, Kay Tobin Lahusen, Jack Nichols, and Bob Kohler. A special thanks to Joe Kennedy and Robin Souza for assistance in finding GAA sources and documentation, and to historian Donn Teal for help with various leads.\n\nMy work has necessarily built upon the work of previous researchers, whether they have been historians who have made a particular study of the Stonewall Riots or writers who included Stonewall as one of their many interests. Of special usefulness has been the work done by early researcher Tina Crosby, the pioneering work done by writer Michael Scherker, the first real historian of the Stonewall Riots, the interviews conducted by David Isay for his 1989 radio documentary, the research of historian Martin Duberman for _Stonewall_ , his history of the Stonewall Riots, and interviews conducted by Eric Marcus for his book, _Making History_. David Isay, Martin Duberman, Eric Marcus, Nikos Diaman, Paul Cain, and the family of Michael Scherker all generously made the material relevant to the Stonewall era in their possession available to me. Historian John Loughery was generous in sharing documents with me and providing leads. Ken Lustbader provided me with early drafts of his master's thesis on homosexuality in Greenwich Village and also provided me with floor plans and other documentation on the Stonewall Inn. The late Joel Honig kindly provided me with copies of documents and generously shared his unbridled enthusiasm for gay history. It is an honor to thank historians Jonathan Ned Katz and Joan Nestle for their encouragement and support. Frank Toscano, retired from the New York Police Department, assisted me with several questions about the NYPD.\n\nThe number, quality, and accessibility of lesbian and gay archival collections has greatly increased over the last decade and a half, and this book would not have been possible without them. Much basic work remains to be done in collecting and preserving gay history, and I urge the readers of this book to donate materials and funds to your local gay and lesbian archives. Among the many wonderful amateur and professional archivists and librarians I met during my research, I must single out Rich Wandel, founder and archivist of the Lesbian and Gay Community Services Center National Archive of Lesbian and Gay History in New York City, for special thanks. Rich is one of the many unsung heroes of the gay community who volunteers countless hours selflessly, does high-quality work, and seeks no recognition for himself. I must also give a special nod to Henny Brandhorst, Vincent van der Kaap, and Jack van der Wel, the director of Homodok, at Homodok, the Gay\/Lesbian Archives and Information Center in the Netherlands, which did amazing bibliographic research for this history. I also wish to thank the librarians and staff of the following archives and libraries: the New York Public Library's Manuscripts and Archives Division, where I made extensive use of various collections, but particularly the International Gay Information Center Archives; the map division of the New York Public Library; the Irma and Paul Milstein Division of United States History, Local History and Genealogy Division of the New York Public Library; the Lesbian Herstory Archives of the Lesbian Herstory Educational Foundation, Inc., in New York City; Columbia University's Oral History Research Office, with special thanks to Mary Marshall Clark; the Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Columbia University's Butler Library; the Tamiment Institute Library of New York University; the Pat Parker\/Vito Russo Center Library in New York City; the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual & Transgender Library\/Archives of Philadelphia, with special thanks to Steven Capsuto for transferring interviews taped in the early 1970s to MP3 files so that they could be studied; the Human Sexuality Collection in the Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections of Cornell University, in Ithaca, New York, with thanks to collection curator Brenda Marston; the Museum of the City of New York; Jim Lomax, head of the Heritage Committee and archival programs of the SAGE Oral History Project in New York; the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender Historical Society of Northern California in San Francisco, with special thanks to Executive Director Susan Stryker, Paul Gabriel, and Willie Walker; the June L. Mazer Lesbian Archives of Los Angeles, California; the Dodd Research Center of the University of Connecticut Libraries in Storrs, Connecticut, with thanks to Rutherford Witthus, Curator, Literary and Natural History Collections, for help with the Foster Gunnison papers; the One Institute and Archives in Los Angeles; the James C. Hormel Gay & Lesbian Center of the San Francisco Public Library, with thanks to Jim Van Buskirk, program manager; the Gerber\/Hart Library of Chicago, with thanks to Karen C. Sendziak, Gerber\/Hart historian and curator, archives; and the Special Collections Library of Duke University in Durham, North Carolina, with thanks to Elizabeth Dunn and Virginia Daley; and Mike Lanza at New York's criminal court records division.\n\nFor very generous assistance in fund-raising, I would like to thank Bob Rosenthal and the Committee on Poetry, as well as Phillip Ward, Larry Maas, and David Tsang. David Tsang is a jewel of a friend and helped support me in many different ways during the years I worked on this book.\n\nI was honored to receive a grant from the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation to write a nomination to place the site of the Stonewall Riots on the National Register of Historic Places. The nomination, which also created the Stonewall Historic District, later resulted in the district being declared a National Historic Landmark. The nomination could not have succeeded without the three preservationists who were coauthors of the nomination: Andrew Dolkart, Gale Harris, and Jay Shockley.\n\nDeborah Lattimore did an outstanding job of producing a great number of accurate interview transcripts under tight deadlines. Amy Endler also did wonderful work as a transcriptionist. Thanks to Peter Hale for transferring MP3 files of interviews to CD-ROM format.\n\nThanks to all the periodicals that helped me find persons to interview, and a special thanks to Rex Wockner for helping me reach the gay media with requests for witnesses to interview.\n\nThanks to Tony Carini for his plumbing expertise.\n\nMany friends and family members have been very generous in their support during the decade I have researched and written this book. Without trying to name them all, and in no particular order, I would like to thank Mark Christianson and John Kretch; Nina Mankin; Hiram Perez and the late Ray Wenner for providing wonderful hospitality in Miami; Jack Nichols for help with housing arrangements in Cocoa Beach; Henry Santiago; J.; Craig Smith; Stephen van Cline; John Jeseren; Charles Haynes and Christopher Wilson; Charles Lombardo; Steve Wolf; Jane Greenlaw; Pauline Park; Jean-Pierre Boch\u00eane and Olivette Halton; Tad Crawford; E. E. Krieckhaus; Allan Vogt; Robert Locke; Scott Barton; Steve Silberman; Tracy Turner; and Gregg Firth.\n\nPerhaps my greatest debt of all is to Michael Denneny, who first encouraged me to write this book and who gave me unstinting support both as an editor and as a friend. Conversation with a man of true culture like Michael was always a pleasure, and I learned much from him. Because of his seminal role in gay publishing, I consider myself honored to have worked with the man I think of as the dean of gay letters.\n\nWhen Michael Denneny left St. Martin's, I was fortunate that Keith Kahla was the editor who picked up where Michael had left off. Keith's ability to identify the weak spots in a manuscript is fortunately equaled by his ability to suggest practical solutions for fixing them. Keith's assistant, Steve Eichinger, also provided valuable assistance in completing this volume. Robert Cloud expertly shepherded the book through the final stages of revision and correction. My thanks also go to Doric Wilson, not only for granting me an interview but also for his careful preparation of this book's index.\n\nMy brother, William C. Carter, and his wife, Lynn, were very supportive of me as I researched and wrote. Bill was very kind to review the manuscript with the utmost care, and his many valuable suggestions greatly improved this history. My niece, Josephine Monmaney, and her husband, Terry, provided wonderful hospitality during my stay in Los Angeles.\n\nArlo McKinnon not only carefully read various drafts of this book and gave me invaluable, sensitive, and intelligent feedback, he was a mainstay of support as I worked to bring the book to completion. Helping in many different ways without stint, he was the soul of generosity: friends do not come any truer.\n\nFinally, a special thanks to my parents who, while not alive to see this work published, made it possible by inculcating in me an interest in and a respect for history.\n\n# N O T E S\n\nMore than a hundred people were interviewed during the course of researching this book. In addition, several other historians made available to me their independent interviews. Some of these interviews were used only as background information. Others are quoted or summarized within the text. When not otherwise cited in the notes below, a quotation will be from these interviews.\n\nIn these notes, Mattachine\u2013New York is abbreviated as MSNY. The full titles of the _New York Mattachine Newsletter (NYMN)_ and some other sources are also abbreviated, and the shortened form is noted the first time that the source is cited.\n\n## P R O L O G U E\n\n1. In June 1969, the month the Stonewall Riots began, Connecticut became the second state to legalize homosexual sex.\n\n## 1 : G R E E N W I C H V I L L A G E, USA\n\n1. The last names of Fat Tony and his father, Ernie, are not given here. (Lauria is not the family name.) Information in this chapter on Fat Tony, his father, and other Mafia owners of the Stonewall Inn is taken from the Shaheen-Duberman interview.\n\n2. Bill Morgan, _A Walking Tour of Jack Kerouac's City_ (San Francisco: City Lights Books, 1997).\n\n3. The history of how the Village was colonized by gay men and lesbians is recounted in George Chauncey's _Gay New York: Gender, Urban Culture, and the Making of the Gay Male World, 1890\u20131940_ (New York: Basic Books, 1994).\n\n4. Nancy Adair and Casey Adair, _Word Is Out_ (San Francisco: New Glide Publications, 1978), p. 335, and Jonathan Katz, _Gay\/Lesbian Almanac: A New Documentary_ (New York: Harper and Row, 1983), p. 304, and _Gay American History_ (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1976), pp. 548\u2013556.\n\n5. Extreme notoriety of Bonnie's Stone Wall: Rick Beard and Leslie Cohen Berlowitz, eds., _Greenwich Village: Culture and Counterculture_ (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1993), hereafter _GV_ , p. 49. That Bonnie's Stonewall Inn was located at 51 and 53 Christopher Street is established by a 1940s menu, displayed in January 2003 on www.villagewaterfront.org, the Web site of the Federation to Preserve the Greenwich Village Waterfront & Great Port.\n\n6. On Village tearooms, see Terry Miller, _Greenwich Village and How It Got That Way_ (New York: Crown, 1990), pp. 38\u201339 and 223\u2013224; Luc Sante, _Low Life_ (New York: Farrar Straus Giroux, 1991); and Caroline F. Ware, _Greenwich Village, 1920\u20131930_ (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), especially pp. 52\u201354 and 96\u201397.\n\n7. _GV_ , p. 36.\n\n8. _GV_ , p. 38, and Kenneth T. Jackson, ed., _The Encyclopedia of the City of New York_ (New York: New-York Historical Society, 1995), hereafter _Encyclopedia_ , p. 506.\n\n9. Miller, _Greenwich Village_ , p. 2. The author is grateful to preservationist Ken Lustbader for making available his very valuable master's thesis, \"Landscape of Liberation: Preserving Gay and Lesbian History in Greenwich Village\" (Columbia University, 1993), as well as construction plans and diagrams relating to the original Stonewall Inn Restaurant and the later Stonewall Inn club.\n\n10. _GV_ , p. 42.\n\n11. Nos. 51 and 53 built as stables: _The Greenwich Village Historic District Designation Report_ , Vol. 1, p. 117 (New York: New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission, 1969), hereafter _Report_. Introduction of taxicab fleet: _Encyclopedia_ , p. 68. Information on Saks Fifth Avenue horses supplied by Matt McGhee, who heard it from the stable employee's grandson.\n\n12. New York Public Library, Irma and Paul Milstein Division of United States History, Local History and Genealogy, Views of New York, Microfiche 795, D4, D6, D7, and E1.\n\n13. Lustbader.\n\n14. _Report_ , Vol. 1, p. 13.\n\n15. Lustbader.\n\n16. \"The Hairpin Drop Heard Around the World,\" _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ , hereafter _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n17. _Report_ , p. 153. The space around the Stonewall Inn was much more open in the 1960s than it is today. A traffic divider was added at the east end of Christopher Park in the 1990s and a viewing garden was installed in Sheridan Square, which was only covered by asphalt in the 1960s. Unfortunately, the small amount of open space in Village streets diminishes with each passing decade.\n\n18. _GV_ , pp. 291\u201392.\n\n19. Kitty Davy, \"Baba's First World Tour, 1932,\" Part II, _Awakener_ 12: 3, Summer 1968, p. 3, and Meher Baba House, October 16, 1994, letter re 88 and 90 Grove Street; _84 Questions and Answers on Avatar Meher Baba_ (compiled and published by A. C. S. Chari, India: 1969), p. 49.\n\n20. This discussion of Greenwich Village history is generally drawn, except where otherwise noted, from _GV_ (especially the chapter \"Straight Down Christopher Street\"), _Report_ , and _Encyclopedia_.\n\n21. _Coronet_ , September 1950, pp. 101\u20138, quoted in Neil Schlager, ed., _Gay\/Lesbian Almanac_ (NY: St. James Press, 1998), p. 63.\n\n22. Information on Blick and Hoey is taken from David K. Johnson's \"Homosexual Citizens,\" _Washington History_ , Fall\/Winter 1994\u201395, pp. 44\u201363, and William N. Eskridge Jr., _Gay Law: Challenging the Apartheid of the Closet_ (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1999), pp. 68\u201372.\n\n23. Arno Karlen, _Sexuality and Homosexuality_ (New York: W. W. Norton, 1971), p. 609.\n\n24. Eskridge, _Gay Law_ , p. 98.\n\n25. New York Penal Code; \" 'Drag' and the Laws\u2014and a Drag Ball,\" _NYMN_ , January\u2013February 1967; and \"Ku Klux Klan Says It Will Seek Permission for a Masked Rally in City,\" _New York Times_ , hereafter _NYT_ , May 2, 2000.\n\n26. Karlen, _Sexuality and Homosexuality_ , p. 610, and Peter Fisher, _The Gay Mystique_ (New York: Stein and Day, 1972), pp. 133\u201334.\n\n27. Barry Miles, \"The Beat Generation in the Village,\" in _GV_ , p. 165.\n\n28. Martin Weinberg and Colin J. Williams, _Male Homosexuals: Their Problems and Adaptations_ (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), pp. 31, 44\u201345. The authors did their fieldwork between 1966 and 1968, supplemented by two weeks in 1970.\n\n29. Chauncey, _Gay New York_.\n\n30. Eskridge, _Gay Law_ , p. 44. Eskridge points out that although the vice societies were originally organized to combat prostitution, during and after World War I homosexuality became an important focus of their activities.\n\n31. Chauncey, _Gay New York_ , pp. 338\u201342, cited in Eskridge, _Gay Law_ , p. 46.\n\n32. Eskridge, _Gay Law_ , p. 46.\n\n33. Karlen, _Sexuality and Homosexuality_ , p. 610.\n\n34. Stuart Timmons, _The Trouble with Harry Hay_ (Boston: Alyson, 1990).\n\n35. Molly McGarry and Fred Wasserman, _Becoming Visible: An Illustrated History of Twentieth-Century Gay Life in America_ (New York: New York Public Library, 1998), p. 43.\n\n36. Unless stated otherwise, the information on Frank Kameny used in this book comes from Kay Tobin and Randy Wicker, _The Gay Crusaders_ (New York: Paperback Library, 1972), Eric Marcus's _Making History_ (New York: HarperCollins, 1992), and Paul D. Cain's interview with Kameny.\n\n37. _The Voice_ eventually relented after Wicker kept returning with the same ad copy over and over.\n\n38. Dan Wakefield, \"The Gay Crusader,\" _Nugget_ , June 1963, pp. 51\u201352, 71\u201372.\n\n39. \"Jack O'Brian Says,\" _New York Journal-American_ , July 9, 1962. Details about the taping come from \"Minority Listening,\" _Newsweek_ , July 30, 1962, p. 48.\n\n40. _NYT_ , July 16, 1962, p. 47; _Realist_ , August, September, October 1962; _Variety_ and _Herald Tribune_ cited in Edward Alwood, _Straight News_ (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996), p. 47; and _Escapade_ , February 1963, cited in John D'Emilio, _Sexual Politics, Sexual Communities:_ _The Making of a Homosexual Minority in the United States_ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983), p. 159.\n\n41. Toby Marotta, _The Politics of Homosexuality_ (Boston: Houghton-Mifflin, 1981), p. 27.\n\n42. John D'Emilio, _Sexual Politics_ , p. 160.\n\n43. Leitsch letter to Bob Amsel, September 7, 1967. The author is indebted to Dick Leitsch for unfettered access to his papers, hereafter Leitsch papers.\n\n44. Mark is not the real name of Tommy's friend.\n\n## 2 : O P P R E S S I O N, R E S I S T A N C E, A N D E V E R Y D A Y L I F E\n\n1. Kay Tobin and Randy Wicker, _The Gay Crusaders_ , pp. 67\u201368.\n\n2. Edited together from Tree-Carter interview and Tree, \"Beating Around the Bush,\" _Private Lives_ , September 1991.\n\n3. As Jerry Hoose has explained to the author, there were places other than directly on the waterfront where numerous empty trucks were parked that were used by gay men for sex in this era, but those directly on the waterfront were the best known. All of the locations that Hoose knew about were on the western end of the Village and thus proximate to the waterfront.\n\n4. 1960 crackdown: Leitsch letter (unsent?) to Stephen M. Goldfarb, n.d., Leitsch papers; on the effect of the World's Fair crackdown, see Steven A. Rosen, \"Police Harassment of Homosexual Women and Men in New York City 1960\u20131980,\" _Columbia Human Rights Law Review_ 12, No. 2, Fall\u2013Winter 1980\u201381, pp. 167\u201368, and Lustbader.\n\n5. Lustbader.\n\n6. Leitsch letter to Amsel, September 20, 1967, and Leitsch-Marcus interview.\n\n7. On Leitsch's reaction to Rodwell's turning onto Christopher Street, conversation with Dick Leitsch and Jonathan Ned Katz at the Candle Bar.\n\n8. Leitsch-Marcus interview and Leitsch letter to Amsel, September 22, 1967.\n\n9. Leitsch interview with Paul D. Cain, August 16, 1995, quoted here. Leitsch's tone toward Craig in interviews changed markedly after the publication of Martin Duberman's _Stonewall_ (New York: Dutton, 1993), which only gives Craig's version of events, Duberman having never met or interviewed Leitsch. In the interviews before the publication of _Stonewall_ , Leitsch's tone is positive or neutral about Rodwell; afterward his tone is entirely negative. Leitsch told me that he always wondered why he was overlooked by historians writing about the era. After reading Rodwell's account of the era's history in _Stonewall_ , Leitsch says he realized that Rodwell had been \"poisoning the well of history\" for decades by giving erroneous accounts of events, especially with regards to Leitsch. To sort out all such claims and counterclaims between Rodwell and Leitsch and their respective supporters and detractors would take an entire volume in itself. I have tried to limit myself concerning Leitsch and Rodwell to reporting what both seems to be immediately relevant to the story at hand and can be reasonably established. Whatever future research may reveal, there is no doubt that both men played vital roles in recent gay history and that each of them also made very significant contributions to the movement for homosexual equality.\n\n10. D'Emilio, _Sexual Politics_ , p. 166, and Marotta, _Politics of Homosexuality_ , p. 30.\n\n11. Leitsch-Marcus interview.\n\n12. Leitsch-Carter interview. \"Police Are Added in Washington Sq.,\" _NYT_ , August 5, 1964; \" 'Village' Assured of Added Police,\" _NYT_ , August 10, 1964; Randy Wicker, \"The Wicker Report\u2014It's Koch vs. DeSapio Again,\" _Eastern Mattachine Magazine_ , July 1965, pp. 9\u201310; and \"Politicians Make Strange Bedfellows!\" _Gay_ , May 25, 1970.\n\n13. In later years a member of the Mattachine Society told Leitsch that he was himself a vice police officer and that a number of the officers who volunteered for this kind of work were homosexual, suggesting that some of the men on the vice squad who had sexually interacted with other gay men at least acknowledged their homosexuality to themselves: Leitsch-Carter interview. Indirect corroboration of the possibility that a good number of such officers could have been homosexual themselves comes from an interaction Leitsch had during a chance encounter with a judge who recognized him as \"the guy from that homosexual organization.\" Complaining about a Transit Police officer who regularly brought men he had arrested in bathrooms before him, the judge told Leitsch that \"every defendant\" the officer brought in \"said it was the cop who went down on them, then arrested them because they wouldn't pay him.... I told him the next time he showed up, I'd give him three months in prison for sucking cock in public, and I wrote a letter to his boss, telling him the same thing.\" Leitsch letter to Amsel, n.d., Leitsch papers.\n\n14. \"The World of the Homosexual,\" _Star Chronicle_ , third in a series of articles that began on September 27, 1965.\n\n15. Martin Duberman gives a different version of the events surrounding Hodges's resignation. He did not, however, attempt to interview Dick Leitsch for his recollections of these events.\n\n16. This account of the meeting at Judson Church is taken from \"Public Meeting on MacD.: Pirandello Writes Script,\" _Village Voice_ , April 7, 1966; eight-page undated, untitled typescript in Leitsch papers; \"Meeting on Village Cleanup,\" _NYMN_ 11, no. 3; \"Garelick Urges Public to Report Police Trapping of Homosexuals,\" _NYT_ , April 2, 1966.\n\n17. An eight-page undated typescript and an eleven-page undated, untitled typescript, apparently notes for the 1966 annual report by Leitsch to MSNY, the latter hereafter referred to as 1966 Annual Report, Leitsch papers. See also \"Lindsay Placates Coffeehouse Set,\" _NYT_ , May 3, 1966. Leitsch-Carter interview (on Koch jumping up).\n\n18. Ten-page untitled speech on the Stonewall Riots, hereafter Stonewall Speech, and undated letter from Leitsch to Stephen M. Goldfarb, Leitsch papers; Leitsch-Carter interview; and Randy Wicker letter to _NYT_ , October 23, 1963, Wicker papers.\n\n19. Stonewall Speech. On SLA corruption, see, for example, \"Ex\u2013F.B.I Agent Links State Liquor Aide to Mafia,\" _NYT_ , November 30, 1967, p. 50. Mentioned in this article is Matthew Ianello, the Genovese crime family member who controlled mob activity in the Village and was thus considered the \"real\" owner of all the Mafia's gay bars in the Village.\n\n20. Frank Patton Jr. of Ellis, Stringfellow & Patton, representing Mattachine\u2013New York, \"Memorandum [of Law]: The Homosexual and the New York Alcoholic Beverage Control Law,\" Leitsch papers.\n\n21. Leitsch's 1966 Annual Report, Leitsch papers.\n\n22. Telegram sent to twelve members of the press, April 20, 1966, Leitsch papers.\n\n23. Leitsch-Carter interview and \"3 Deviates Invite Exclusion by Bars,\" _NYT_ , April 22, 1966.\n\n24. \"S.L.A. Won't Act Against Bars Refusing Service to Deviates,\" _NYT_ , April 26, 1966.\n\n25. Booth letter to Leitsch, June 16, 1966. Leitsch papers.\n\n26. \"Gay Is Good,\" Craig Rodwell, _Queen's Quarterly_ , Summer 1969, p. 39.\n\n27. \"Signs of the Times,\" _Hymnal_ 1, No. 1, February 1968.\n\n28. Charles Grutzner, \"Mafia Buys Clubs for Homosexuals,\" _NYT_ , November 30, 1967.\n\n## 3 : O N T H E S T R E E T\n\n1. Material for this chapter on the street youths is taken primarily from interviews of Thomas Lanigan-Schmidt, Bob Kohler, Martin Boyce, and Jerry Hoose by David Carter. An interview of Lanigan-Schmidt by Martin Duberman was also used, as was the article \"From Night of Rage, Seeds of Liberation,\" by Rick Bragg, _NYT_ , June 23, 1994. The primary source for material about Birdie Rivera is the interview of him by Michael Scherker.\n\n2. When I interviewed Bob, he asserted that the street youth always hung out in Christopher Park. Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt, however, is emphatic that the park was just one of many places the youths frequented. He recalls sitting more often on stoops on Christopher Street than in Christopher Park. It makes sense that Bob would overemphasize the park, since that is both where he first met the youths and where he continued to meet them. The material about Bob Kohler is inserted here even though Bob did not meet the youths until the spring of 1969, for this is where the material fits logically.\n\n3. Overpriced hamburgers: Barbara Judith Marie, \"Stonewall Remembered Book 1,\" www.inch.com\/~kdka\/stonewall.htm.\n\n4. Because of Hormona's fair features and youthful good looks, he probably could have easily passed as a woman had he wanted to, adding plausibility to Hoose's contention that Jackie did not have a transgender identity and did not want to undergo sexual reassignment surgery. Female hormones were not that difficult to obtain at the time, and had this been Jackie's wish, one would think that had he gone in drag he could have made a fair amount of money as a cross-dressing prostitute because of his good looks and then been able to purchase hormones, which he did not do. We know this to be so, for in the early 1980s Jackie Hormona moved in next door to Hoose. Hoose noted then that the mildly effeminate side of Jackie had totally disappeared so that his presentation was quite conventionally masculine. Note, too, that Hoose is not sure what kind of makeup Jackie applied to smooth over facial imperfections but is sure it was something of the nature of foundation or facial powder. I have chosen facial powder as Hoose stressed the subtlety of the effect.\n\nHoose believes that it was around 1968 that he first saw Jackie Hormona.\n\n5. Physical appearance: O'Brien-Carter interview.\n\n6. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter telephone conversation, June 31, 1998.\n\n7. Prison, murder, muscular: Hoose-Carter interview.\n\n8. Boyce-Carter interview.\n\n9. Sources used for Marsha Johnson are Steven Watson, \"The Drag of Politics,\" _Village Voice_ , June 25, 1979; Andy Newman, \"Death of a Drag Queen,\" _Hoboken Reporter_ , July 19, 1992; Boyce-Carter interview; and Heide-Carter interview. I am grateful to Steven Watson for making available to me a copy of his _Voice_ article as well as a copy of his original interview with Marsha. Randy Wicker kindly provided me with a copy of the _Hoboken Reporter_ article.\n\n## 4 : T H E S T O N E W A L L I N N\n\n1. Painted black after fire: Leitsch-Carter interview; contemporary description: Angelo D'Emilio, _The Homosexual Handbook_ (New York: Ophelia Press, 1968).\n\n2. Shaheen-Duberman interview. Duberman states that the three partners grew up on Mulberry Street in Little Italy and cites as his source his interview with Chuck Shaheen, but this information is not in the interview. Joey is a made-up name: Shaheen could never remember this person's name in the interview. An Anthony Verra was arrested during the Stonewall Riots and charged with unlawful sale, consumption, and storage of liquor according to the _Sunday [New York Daily] News_ (Dennis Eskow, \"3 Cops Hurt As Bar Raid Riles Crowd,\" June 29, 1969, hereafter Eskow), but there is no further information in the article that would allow one to determine whether this person was one of the bar owners.\n\n3. Fred W. and Timothy S. McDarrah's _Gay Pride: Photographs from Stonewall to Today_ (New York: A Cappella Book, 1994), p. 2, has a photograph of the Stonewall Inn Restaurant taken in mid-1966 with Greek Revival columns and much of the second floor's brick wall exposed by the deterioration of the old stucco. I am grateful to Stephen van Cline for the detail about the columns.\n\n4. License: Beard-Scherker interview; names on bottles: Shaheen-Duberman interview.\n\n5. Beard-Scherker interview.\n\n6. Oak and steel doors: Ed Murphy, \"1969 at Stonewall,\" _Equal Times_ , June 1, 1989; locks: Beard-Scherker interview. The _Equal Times_ article, after describing \"two big oak doors,\" says: \"Inside that were steel doors,\" which seems to describe two separate sets of doors but could be read to mean steel encased in oak. Openings in door: See photo by Diana Davies in illustration section of this volume.\n\n7. Describe the inside: unpublished paper by David C. Scott. Blond Frankie's last name may have been Esselourne, according to an article supposedly written by the doorman that appeared in _Gay Community News_ (Frank Esselourne, \"Doorman Remembers,\" June 23, 1979, p. 10). Worked at many gay clubs before Stonewall: Hampton-Marcus interview.\n\n8. Rotated ticket colors: Perrin-Carter and Shaheen-Duberman interviews; lamp with blue light: Shaheen-Duberman interview.\n\n9. Garvin-Scherker interview.\n\n10. Book used to discourage straight customers and signing false names as protection against police: Garvin-Scherker and Garvin-Carter interviews; book could be used in court: Shaheen-Duberman interview; campy names signed in book: Sheldon Ramsdell, letter to Michael Scherker, June 17, 1988.\n\n11. Step down: Garvin-Scherker and Beard-Scherker interview; \"through an inner door that was usually open\": Beard-Scherker interview.\n\n12. \"Many round stools\": Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter interview.\n\n13. Conclusions on age and race based on numerous interviews.\n\n14. Garvin-Carter interview.\n\n15. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter and Perrin-Carter interviews.\n\n16. See, e.g., _Gay Activist_ , June 1971.\n\n17. Garvin-Scherker interview.\n\n18. Vito Russo, \"Still Outlaws,\" _Gay News_ , No. 170, p. 16.\n\n19. Garvin-Carter interview.\n\n20. Manford in Tina Crosby, \"The Stonewall Riot Remembered,\" January 1974, Lesbian Herstory Archives: \"The atmosphere was cavern-like; it was very dark\"; Arcangelo, _The Homosexual Handbook_ , describes \"the inky atmosphere.\"\n\n21. Perry Brass in Crosby, \"Stonewall Riot\": \"there was no ventilation\"; _Gay Activist_ , June 1971: \"the fetid, incredibly smoky air.\"\n\n22. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter interview.\n\n23. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter interview.\n\n24. Garvin-Scherker interview.\n\n25. Joel S.-Carter interview.\n\n26. Perrin-Carter interview.\n\n27. Joel S.-Carter interview.\n\n28. This room was referred to as the back room because it was the last room one entered: one could not enter it directly from the front door. It was not a back room in the sense of a place for having sex. Lights were dimmer in back room: Joel S.\u2013Carter and Beard-Scherker interviews.\n\n29. Tables: Beard interview; benches: Beard-Scherker and Fader interviews; ledge: Garvin interview; paneling is visible in McDarrah photograph (see McDarrah and McDarrah, _Gay Pride_ , p. 4). Number of waiters: Garvin; their aggressiveness: Lanigan-Schmidt.\n\n30. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter interview.\n\n31. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter interview; Shaheen-Duberman interview.\n\n32. Joel S.-Carter interview.\n\n33. Beard-Scherker interview.\n\n34. Garvin-Scherker interview.\n\n35. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter interview; drawings by Garvin and Michael Konnon; Shaheen-Duberman interview.\n\n36. May 10, 1998, conversation with Larry, employee at the Waverly Theatre, who told author he attended the wedding reception for his sister at the Stonewall Inn Restaurant in 1958.\n\n37. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter interview.\n\n38. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Duberman interview.\n\n39. Russo, \"Still Outlaws.\"\n\n40. Karla Jay and Allen Young, eds., _Out of the Closets: Voices of Gay Liberation_ (New York: Douglas Book Corp., 1972), pp. 6\u20137.\n\n41. Garvin-Scherker interview.\n\n42. Crosby, \"Stonewall Riot.\"\n\n43. \"Hardy\"-Carter interview. Hardy is a family name created by the author at Jennifer's request.\n\n44. It should be noted that the terms _drag queen, crossdresser_ , and _transvestite_ are being used here because these are the predominant terms from the era and we do not necessarily know how these people identified themselves in that era.\n\n45. Garvin-Carter interview. Tommy Lanigan-Schmidt points out that today people tend to equate the scare drag of the sixties with the gender-fuck (men purposefully donning female attire without trying to pass as women by, for example, simultaneously wearing dresses and beards) movement that emerged in the seventies in San Francisco. Tommy emphasizes that much of the scare-drag look (e.g., the shirt tied at midriff that could be quickly untied) was about being able to quickly change from a male to a female persona to avoid being arrested or attacked.\n\n46. Note that even by contemporary New York City standards, the Stonewall Inn would still be considered a moderate-sized bar.\n\n47. I use this date because Danny Garvin is able to date the club's opening since he had been discharged from the navy that very day. He also remembers the event because it opened on the weekend of St. Patrick's Day and he had just turned eighteen.\n\nFurther corroboration for this date is found in an interview of Kevin Dunn by Michael Scherker on June 5, 1989, in San Francisco, in which Dunn states that he first went to the Stonewall Inn in March of 1967. When Scherker asked him, \"How did you end up at the Stonewall?\" Dunn replied, \"Some guy told me about this hot _new_ bar\" (emphasis added).\n\n48. \"Mike\"-Carter interview. (Mike is a fictitious name for the former porter of the Stonewall Inn.)\n\n49. Rodwell-Scherker interview.\n\n50. Craig Rodwell, \"Mafia on the Spot,\" _Hymnal_ 1, No. 1, February 1968, pp. 1\u20132.\n\n51. Brew quoted in Crosby, \"Stonewall Riot.\"\n\n52. Rodwell, \"On the Spot.\"\n\n53. Leitsch letter to Amsel, September 18 [1967], Leitsch papers. While Leitsch's letter does not state that the police were in uniform or from the Sixth Precinct, that seems a reasonable assumption, as it was normally the vice squad's job to investigate and catch corrupt police officers.\n\n54. Murphy gave the $1,200 figure to _The Village Voice_ , to Emerald City Television, and to the organization Seniors in A Gay Environment (SAGE). The SAGE account was used in a SAGE theatrical presentation in 1988, and excerpts from the play were published in _Equal Times_ in 1989. See Bob Dolan, \"When the Law Reaches into Your Pocket,\" _Pageant_ 23, No. 2, August 1967, pp. 40\u201346; Arthur Bell, \"Skull Murphy: The Gay Double Agent,\" _Village Voice_ 23, No. 19, May 8, 1978; Murphy, \"1969 at Stonewall\"; and Murphy interview with Gene Stavis of Emerald City Television. Note that the $1,200 a month figure agrees with Shaheen's estimate of several hundred dollars a week.\n\n55. Tree-Carter interview.\n\n56. _Ladder_ , \"Gay Power in New York City,\" October\u2013November 1969, p. 40. Rodwell related in \"On the Spot\" how he tried to report the unsanitary conditions to various city agencies and how unresponsive the agencies were.\n\n57. \"Mike\"-Carter interview.\n\n58. I am indebted to plumbing consultant Tony Carini for explaining to me how a substantial volume of water poured into a toilet could cause a delayed overflow.\n\n59. Carl Lee, \"It's What's Happening,\" _Hymnal_ 1, No. 5, June\u2013July 1968.\n\n60. Seating capacity information on floor plans of the Stonewall Inn filed with the City of New York gives the total capacity of the club at 190: \"185 persons and 5 employees.\" However, Seymour Pine said that on the evening he raided the club it had 200\u2013300 persons inside.\n\n61. A number of people pointed out the club's dangers as a fire trap after the bar closed, e.g., Perry Brass in Crosby, \"Stonewall Riot.\" Other comments on the lack of fire exits are: \"The Stonewall couldn't get a license because it lacked a rear fire exit.\" (\"Stonewall 'Historic'?\" _Advocate_ , August 15, 1973, p. 16), and \"there were no fire exits\" (Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969). Note, too, that the windows were carefully boarded up.\n\n62. Rodwell in Crosby, \"Stonewall Riot.\"\n\n63. Russo, \"Outlaws,\" p. 16.\n\n64. Garvin-Scherker interview.\n\n65. Shaheen-Duberman interview.\n\n66. Tree telephone conversation, ca. June 1999.\n\n67. \"Beating Around the Bush,\" _Private Lives_ , January 1993, p. 100.\n\n68. Enid Girling is also known from the period for being one of the few attorneys available for helping gay men arrested as a result of entrapment, but is controversial for charging large fees for doing so.\n\n69. Dick Leitsch, \"The Stonewall Riots[:] The Gay View,\" _NYMN_ , August 1969, pp. 13\u201314.\n\n## 5 : T H E S K U L L\n\n1. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Duberman and Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Carter interviews. Note that Ed Murphy was known to be especially attracted to Latino and black youths, which could lend credibility to the rumor that the kidnapped Puerto Rican was a boyfriend of Murphy's. Tano is a made-up name for the man Tommy and his friends called Miss Polka Dot, as his real name is unknown.\n\n2. Stephen van Cline\u2013Carter telephone conversation, April 21, 1996.\n\n3. This account of Murphy's life is based on interviews he gave. The sources used are Arthur Bell, \"Skull Murphy: The Gay Double Agent,\" _Village Voice_ , May 1978, pp. 1, 17\u201319; John Hoglund, _New York Native_ obituary, March 27, 1989, \"Eddie Murphy\u2014from Hellion to Hero,\" _Private Lives_ 2, Issue 6, December 1987; \"SAGE Stories,\" _Equal Times_ , June 1, 1989. Some of the details in the preceding sources are corroborated in a general way by Glenn Person, \"CS People,\" _Christopher Street_ , Issue 66, July 1982; in an interview by Gene Stavis on Emerald City Television; and in an interview given to Chris Davis, n.d. (apparently 1983 or 1984, since Murphy refers to the gay rights bill having been introduced before the city council of New York City for \"thirteen years\"). Regarding the violent incidents in his early life, Murphy consistently portrays himself as a victim standing up for himself against his oppressors, a line that interviewers Bell and Hoglund apparently bought, e.g., (Bell): \"One day when shining shoes for quarters, a nasty Irish cop laced into him [Murphy] and broke his shoeshine box. The natural thing to do was to hit the sonovabitch over the head with a milk bottle.\" Hoglund, after characterizing Murphy as \"above all else, a fighter for [...] human dignity,\" quotes Murphy as saying that \"the teacher hit me\u2014and I hit back!!!\"\n\n4. \"Detective at Hotel Is Held in Extortion,\" _NYT_ , August 5, 1965, p. 19.\n\n5. All of the information in this chapter about the blackmail ring quoted as coming from contemporary news accounts is from the following newspaper and magazine articles: \"Gay Bar Closed,\" _NYMN_ , March 1968, p. 5; \"Nine Seized Here in Extortion Ring,\" _NYT_ , February 18, 1966; \"17 Indicted in Hush-Money Shakedown,\" _Herald Tribune_ , 1966; \"Nationwide Ring Preying on Prominent Deviates,\" _NYT_ , February 3, 1966; \"3 Indicted Here as Sex Extorters,\" _NYT_ , June 1, 1966; \"Grab City Cop as Sex-Blackmail Kingpin,\" _Chicago Sun-Times_ , June 25, 1966; \"Detective Accused as a Top Extorter,\" _NYT_ , July 1, 1966; \"Blackmailer of Deviates Gets 5 Years,\" _New York Post_ , August 16, 1966; \"Gets 5 Years in Extortion of Homosexuals,\" _Daily News_ , 1966; \"Blackmailer Gets Five-Year Sentence in Homosexual Case,\" _NYT_ , August 17, 1966; \"Gets 5 Yrs. in Extortion of Homos,\" _Daily News_ , August 17, 1966, p. 9; \"Lands at JFK, FBI Is There,\" _Daily News_ , September 18, 1966; \"More Indictments Due in Blackmail Case,\" _New York Post_ , September 28, 1966, p. 62; \"Blackmail Paid by Congressman\"; _NYT_ , August 17, 1967; \"Member of 70-Man Ring Preying on Homosexuals Given 5 Years,\" _NYT_ , July 12, 1967; and \"2 Found Guilty in Chicago in Extortion of Homosexual,\" _NYT_ , December 9, 1967.\n\nAlthough most of the victims, including those men who were married and had children, were undoubtedly homosexual or bisexual, it seems possible from contemporary accounts that some small percentage of the victims may have been strictly heterosexual.\n\n6. William McGowan, \"Before Stonewall,\" _Wall Street Journal_ , June 16, 2000, p. W13.\n\n7. These nine articles are from Dick Leitsch's personal papers.\n\n8. Richard Inman, letter to Jack Nichols (Warren Adkins, pseud.), September 19, 1965, quoted in James T. Sears's _Lonely Hunters: An Oral History of Lesbian and Gay Southern Life, 1948\u20131968_ (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1997), p. 244.\n\n9. Ginsberg\u2013Benz interview.\n\n10. _Straight News_ , p. 269, and Donn Teal, _The Gay Militants_ , p. 65. Description of Hoover is on p. 267 of what appears to be either the first edition of Arcangelo, _The Homosexual Handbook_ , or a pirated copy of it.\n\n11. Ginsberg\u2013Benz interview.\n\n12. John Paul Ranieri had a lifetime of mental health issues, and I did not always find his accounts of events to be reliable. For these reasons, I only used information from him that was corroborated by other sources.\n\n13. Murray Weiss, \"J. Edgar's Slip Was Showing,\" _New York Post_ , February 11, 1993. I am grateful to Randy Wicker for providing me with a copy of this article. Very suggestive in this context is that Murphy would publicly say in 1978\u2014before it became public information, as it did in the 1990s, that the Mafia had photographs of Hoover involved in sex acts\u2014that he knew that J. Edgar Hoover \"was one of my sisters\" (see Bell, \"Skull Murphy\").\n\n14. It is very suggestive of Murphy's powers to silence opposition that while the aforementioned article ends with the statement: \"We also have other information on Mr. Murphy that will be printed here next month,\" the following month's newsletter did not so much as mention Ed Murphy's name.\n\n15. _New York City Gay Scene Guide_ , Vol. 2, p. 11 (1969).\n\n16. Stonewall Speech. The relevant passage says: \"A man who seemed to be the manager of the place had been arrested several times for shaking down homosexuals and had been recently named as a member of a national blackmail ring preying on homosexuals.\" It is interesting to note that Leitsch originally typed \"blackmailing\" before changing the wording to \"shaking down.\" Leitsch also wrote: \"A man named 'Scumback' Murphy was always around the Stonewall, and was said to be one of the operators of the place.\" Dick Leitsch, \"The Snake Pit Raid: Some Afterthoughts,\" _Gay_ 1, No. 10, April 13, 1970.\n\n17. Arcangelo, _Homosexual Handbook_ , p. 130.\n\n18. Shaheen-Duberman interview.\n\n19. Garvin-Carter interview.\n\n20. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Duberman interview.\n\n21. Kohler-Carter telephone conversation, January 11, 1999. In the _Emerald City_ interview, Murphy talks about being involved in a counterfeit ring but claims that he was acting in the ring as a government agent to break the ring.\n\n22. The only published references to this the author is aware of are Miller, p. 42, which also speaks of rumors and Robert Heide and John Gilman, _Greenwich Village: A Primo Guide to Shopping, Eating, and Making Merry in True Bohemia_ (New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 1995) p. 138.\n\n23. _Equal Times_ , June 1, 1989, p. 19.\n\n24. Carl Lee, \"It's What's Happening,\" _Hymnal_ 1, No. 6, August\u2013September 1968, p. 2.\n\n25. In our talks, as with all the other persons interviewed for this book, no indication had been given to Ranieri of the author's knowledge of the Stonewall Inn's operations nor any other information collected nor conclusions reached, so as not to prejudice testimony. Thus Ranieri had never been told by the author of this history of the rumors that the second floor of the Stonewall Inn was used for prostitution.\n\n26. Ranieri-Carter conversation, June 27, 1998. My handwritten notes on the entrance say: \"Gambino headquarters [were at the] back of 2nd floor\u2014[one] entered by garage. [Ranieri] Thinks front of 2nd floor [was] junk and storage. There may've been an emergency connection from back of 2nd floor to front of 2nd floor, [Ranieri is] not sure.\"\n\n27. \"Beating Around the Bush,\" _Private Lives_ , February 1992, August 1993, and December 1993.\n\n28. Barry Perrin shared his memories of what he had been told about blackmail at the Stonewall Inn spontaneously, without any prompting from the author.\n\nThe question naturally arises about the likelihood that a well-known person would risk giving information about himself to a membership club. A letter by Leitsch to his lover Bob Amsel documents that Cardinal Spellman himself signed the guestbook of the gay bar the Mystique: \"[John Lassoe and I] mapped out a tentative campaign for revising the sodomy and solicitation laws.... We're gambling that we can get enough grass-roots support... to counter-balance the inevitable Roman Catholic opposition. John thinks it's useless, but I'm going to begin another campaign to talk to Cardinal Spellman and see if I can persuade him to remain neutral, if he won't support reform. His name is in the guest book of the Mystique, and he's been seen other places, and I'm not above a little blackmail if it keeps him in line!\" Leitsch letter to Amsel, n.d., Leitsch papers.\n\n29. McGowan, \"Before Stonewall.\"\n\n30. New York Public Library Manuscripts and Archives Division, International Gay Information Center tape 02851, dated February 5, 1978: Morty Manford with Bob Battenberg and Arthur Bell re Ed Murphy. Arthur Bell also reacted with skepticism to Murphy's claims of being an informant: \"I don't believe it. Four or five years ago... the guy in charge of the Joint Strike Force Against Crime... showed me trees [that diagrammed] how everyone [in the mob] was related to everybody else, and he told me Ed Murphy was a dangerous guy and someone to watch out for.\"\n\n31. Information in this chapter on Seymour Pine's career and the order to close the Stonewall Inn comes from Pine-Carter interview.\n\n32. Pine-Isay interview.\n\n33. When Pine was interviewed by Carter he had trouble remembering when he was transferred to Manhattan but thought it was in 1969. He told Isay in 1989 that he had come into Manhattan in 1968. _The Village Voice_ , which interviewed him in 1970 (Jonathan Black, \"The Boys in the Snake Pit: Games 'Straights' Play,\" March 19, 1970), says he arrived in May 1969, so I have used that date. Note also that many press accounts of the Stonewall Riots talk about a \"new\" commanding officer, although some say new at the Sixth Precinct. Asked if there had there been any recent change of commanding officers at the Sixth Precinct, Pine said that there had not been.\n\n## 6 : D A W N I S J U S T B R E A K I N G\n\n1. \"McCarthy Wins Poll,\" _Hymnal_ 1, No. 4, May 1968.\n\n2. The summation given here of gay organizing in San Francisco in the 1960s is taken from D'Emilio's _Sexual Politics_ , pp. 182\u201391.\n\n3. Date of July 1966 is from \"Young Rejects Form Own Organization,\" _Cruise News & World Report_ 2, No. 7, July 1966, which announces the start of the new organization.\n\n4. \"Exiles of Sin, Incorporated,\" _Berkeley Barb_ , November 11, 1966.\n\n5. _We Protest_ , flyer, Donald Lucas papers, Gay and Lesbian Historical Society of Northern California. I am indebted to Susan Stryker for calling this flyer and all the other materials quoted here on Vanguard to my attention.\n\n6. Jean-Paul Marat, \"On Prejudice,\" _V_ 1, No. 2, October 1966, p. 1.\n\n7. Stryker-Carter interview.\n\n8. \"Young Homos Picket Compton's Restaurant,\" _Cruise News & World Report_ 2, No. 8, August 1966, and \"History of Christopher Street West,\" (San Francisco) _Gay Pride_ program, June 25, 1972.\n\n9. Evans\u2013Carter interviews. Although the perception is still widespread that Whitman was the major influence on Ginsberg's poetic development, Ginsberg was clear that Blake was his main inspiration. It is notable that Evans was moved by both Blake and Whitman, both important to Ginsberg, and then was heavily influenced by Ginsberg as well. See, e.g., Allen Ginsberg _Spontaneous Mind: Selected Interviews 1958\u20131996_ , ed. David Carter (New York: HarperCollins, 2001).\n\n10. Garvin-Carter interview and Garvin-Scherker interview.\n\n11. Garvin-Scherker, Garvin-Carter, Shaheen-Duberman, and Beard-Scherker interviews; \"The Night They Raided Stonewall,\" _Gay Activist_ , June 1971; Russo, \"Still Outlaws\"; _1969 New York City Gay Scene Guide_ , Vol. 2; and Arcangelo, _The Homosexual Handbook_.\n\n12. White-Carter interview and Crosby, \"Stonewall Riot.\"\n\n13. \"Gay Power Gains,\" _Hymnal_ 1, No. 6, August\u2013September 1968. The date of the _Wall Street Journal_ article was July 17, 1968; the letters to the editor column containing responses to the article was published in August.\n\n14. \"It's What's Happening\" and \"On Stage,\" _Hymnal_ 1, No. 5, June\u2013July 1968.\n\n15. Lori Reid, _The Complete Book of Chinese Horoscopes_ (Shaftesbury, Dorset; Rockport, Mass.: Barnes & Noble Books, 1997), p. 123.\n\n16. \"Transit Cops Shake Down Wrong Man\" and \"More Police Harassment,\" _NYMN_ , February 1969.\n\n17. \"Cop Kills Two\u2014May Go Free\" and \"Docks, Darkness and Danger,\" _NYMN_ , March 1969.\n\n18. Bathhouse wrecked and no bribes paid: _Los Angeles Advocate_ , April 1969, p. 22. \"Bathhouse Raided,\" \"Dock Killings,\" and \"Your Friendly SLA,\" _NYMN_ , April 1969.\n\n19. D'Emilio, _Sexual Politics_ , p. 230, and _Vector_ , April 1969.\n\n20. \"Gay Rebel Gets Shafted by Uptight Boss,\" _Berkeley Barb_ , April 11, 1969.\n\n21. \"Pink Panthers Gay Revolution Toughening Up,\" _Berkeley Barb_ , April 18\u201324, 1969.\n\n22. \"Killer Cops at Large\" and \"Gay Strike Turns Grim,\" _Berkeley Barb_ , April 25\u2013May 1, 1969, and \"Group Will Act\" and \"Gay Strike Hits Southern Front,\" _Berkeley Barb_ , May 2\u20138, 1969.\n\n23. \"Gays Get Tougher,\" _Berkeley Barb_ , May 23\u201329, 1969.\n\n24. Carl Wittman, \"A Gay Manifesto,\" in Karla Jay and Allen Young, eds., _Out of the Closets: Voices of Gay Liberation_ (New York: Douglas Book Corp., 1972), p. 330.\n\n25. \"Coming Mayoralty Contest,\" _NYMN_ , May 1969.\n\n26. Alternate U. history from telephone conversation with Mike Bradley, October 26, 2003.\n\n27. Tobin and Wicker, _Gay Crusaders_ , p. 173. I conclude that this approach was made by Katzenberg because he was the main person pushing the idea for such an organization and Hoose and O'Brien have no recollection of making the pitch to Marty Robinson. Further evidence that the approach to Robinson came from Katzenberg or someone in his group is that the first press mention of the group that would very soon become known as the Gay Liberation Front is of a demonstration that John O'Brien was present at and it says that the group called itself the Pink Panthers. \"From Outside the Pen,\" _Rat_ 2, No. 15, late July 1969, p. 4.\n\nHoose says he has no memory of meeting O'Brien before the riots and thus does not count himself as a founder of the group that would become the Gay Liberation Front, but when I first interviewed O'Brien, he told me that he had spoken to Jerry Hoose about this and that Hoose did not recall these conversations and meetings. If O'Brien were fabricating this, it seems highly unlikely that he would include Jerry Hoose in the roster of those trying to start a militant gay group before Stonewall when he knew that Hoose would deny any memory of these events. Moreover, in an article in the program of San Francisco's first gay pride march ( _Gay Pride_ , June 25, 1972), an article about how gay pride observations began (\"History of Christopher Street: How It All Began!\") lists Hoose as one of four founders of the Gay Liberation Front. (The other three it credits are Michael Brown, Martha Shelley, and Jim Owles.) Incidentally, Jerry Hoose told the author in an October 26, 2003, telephone conversation that it was he who had coined the phrase _gay pride_ at one of the meetings planning the first celebration of the Stonewall Riots.\n\n28. _Rat_ , July 24, 1969.\n\n29. _NYMN_ , June 1969.\n\n30. David Bird, \"Trees in a Queens Park Cut Down As Vigilantes Harass Homosexuals,\" _NYT_ , July 1, 1969; Don Jackson, \"Reflections on the N.Y. Riots,\" _Los Angeles Advocate_ , October 1969, p. 11.\n\n31. Letter to the editor signed by Kevin Liscoe, July 10, 1969, _Village Voice_ , p. 4; \"Gay Power in New York City,\" p. 40; and \"Reflections.\"\n\n32. \"Dawn Is Just Breaking...,\" _Queen's Quarterly_ 1, No. 3, Summer 1969, p. 5. Most ellipses are in the original editorial.\n\n33. Ronnie Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident,\" _East Village Other_ 4, No. 32, July 9, 1969, p. 2.\n\n34. Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident,\" and Pine-Carter interview.\n\n## 7 : A F R I D A Y N I G H T O U T\n\n1. The experiences of persons recounted in this chapter are based upon interviews and the following: \"Steve\" Ritter's talk at \"The Forgotten Stonewall,\" a Stonewall commemoration, June 16, 1994, and Garvin-Carter telephone conversation, December 12, 1999. In this chapter, for dramatic reasons, most of the thoughts and feelings of the persons reported in interviews have not been given as direct quotations.\n\n2. That the search warrant, number 578, dated June 26, 1969, was over twenty-four hours old when the police initiated the raid is significant, for there have been several variations of a rumor that the raid on the Stonewall Inn the night of June 27 began because of a dispute between the police and the bar earlier that day. Information on the search warrant is from the police log for June 28, 1969, obtained by Michael Scherker under the Freedom of Information Act.\n\n3. \"Satisfaction\" played prior to police raid: Barry Cunningham, _Gay Power: The Homosexual Revolt_ , (New York: Tower Publications, 1971.)\n\n## 8 : \"W E'R E T A K I N G T H E P L A C E!\"\n\nWhile the account in this book of the Stonewall Riots is based on many sources, it makes extensive use of the invaluable accounts published at the time, especially Lucian Truscott's \"Gay Power Comes to Sheridan Square\" and Howard Smith's \"Full Moon over the Stonewall\" (both in _Village Voice_ , July 3, 1969), Dick Leitsch's \"The Hairpin Drop Heard Around the World\" ( _NYMN_ , August 1969), Ronnie Di Brienza's \"Stonewall Incident\" ( _East Village Other_ 4, No. 32, July 9, 1969), and the anonymous \"Queen Power: Fags Against Pigs in Stonewall Bust\" ( _Rat_ 2, no. 14, July 9\u201323, 1969).\n\n1. According to the Sixth Precinct's log for June 28, 1969, obtained by Michael Scherker under the Freedom of Information Act, the raid began at 1:20 A.M. This agrees with the account given in the underground newspaper _Rat_ , which gives the time of the raid as \"[a]bout 1:15.\" By all evidence, the _Rat_ account of the riots is possibly the most precise reporting of the events of Friday night. That the official police account coincides with an unofficial account within five minutes is very strong corroboration.\n\n2. Established from photograph by Joseph Ambrosini in Eskow.\n\n3. Morty Manford, May 1978, student paper, \"The New York Gay Political Movement, 1978: An Organizational and Strategy Critique,\" hereafter Manford 1978, and a 3-page incomplete typescript, \"Stonewall Remembrances,\" hereafter Manford \"Remembrances.\" All Manford manuscripts cited are from the Morty Manford Papers, Manuscripts and Archives Division, the New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations. These accounts of the riots were eventually published as part of an article, \"Why We Should Postpone New York's Gay Rights Bill: A New Look at Gay Political Strategy,\" in _Gaysweek_ , October 16, 1978, pp. 10\u201316.\n\n4. Pine-Carter interview.\n\n5. According to Pine's 1989 interview with David Isay, they called for backup just before entering the Stonewall Inn, but since that is Pine's recollection twenty years after the event, I have chosen to go with what Howard Smith was told by the police, presumably Pine, in 1969: they phoned after all the officers were inside the Inn: Smith, \"Full Moon.\" Also, I have chosen to go with Pine's later statement to Isay that they \"requested a couple of police officers and patrol wagons,\" since a patrol wagon did indeed come, rather than accept the _Voice_ version that he requested \"a patrol car and some officers.\"\n\n6. Note, however, that according to one patron who claimed to be inside the bar when the raid began, the police initially \"kept the music and dancing going so's not to get everyone up.\": _Rat_ , July 9, 1969. Perhaps this seeming inconsistency could be explained by the presence of the two undercover female police in the bar before the raid.\n\n7. Manford later described the raiding officers as a combination of federal Treasury officials and Sixth Precinct policemen. Morty Manford interview with Eric Marcus, hereafter Manford 1989, and Manford \"Remembrances.\" Manford identified some of the raiding officers as federal Treasury officials in not only the 1978 and 1989 accounts but also a January 1972 paper, \"A Comparative Study of Gay Liberationists and Columbia Homosexuals,\" hereafter Manford 1972. (See also Manford, \"Why We Should Postpone.\") This assertion suggests Pine told Manford this, as the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms is part of the U.S. Department of Treasury and Manford 1972 has a footnote citing Pine.\n\nPhotograph accompanying Eskow article shows that the suits plainclothes officers were wearing that night were dark.\n\n8. Manford 1978 and Manford 1989.\n\n9. Manford 1989.\n\n10. Eagles-Carter interview.\n\n11. Pine-Carter interview. Pine added that \"I guess they had a few drinks, too. You know, that was their job, to be part of that crowd.\"\n\n12. Pine-Carter interview.\n\n13. Pine-Carter interview.\n\n14. Pine-Carter interview. Pine demanded to see identification and noted the man's name.\n\n15. Eagles-Carter interview. Possible corroboration of this account of lesbian resistance inside the club soon after the raid began comes from Bruce Shenton, who told the author that he heard about a week after the riots that the genesis of it all was a lesbian confrontation inside the bar. Shenton-Carter interview.\n\n16. \"Confusion and uncertainty\": Manford 1978, and \"ten or fifteen minutes\": Manford 1989.\n\n17. Pine-Carter interview.\n\n18. Alcohol found in storage room: Pine-Carter interview.\n\n19. Paper attached to each container and evidence book: Pine-Carter interview.\n\n20. Quantities of alcohol seized: Eskow. That it was Smythe who cataloged the alcohol: Pine-Isay and Pine-Carter interviews. Cataloging their names and addresses: Pine-Carter interview.\n\n21. Pine estimates the length of time it took between the beginning of the raid and getting all the customers he chose not to arrest outside as from fifteen to twenty minutes. Pine-Carter interview.\n\n22. _Rat_ , July 9, 1969.\n\n23. Manford 1989. Manford saw symbolism in their being held in this area, as if inside a closet. \"Little did the police know the ironic symbolism of that. But they found out fast.\"\n\n24. While this account never explicitly states that the complaining about the raids on the Stonewall took place inside the Stonewall Inn itself, it all but says so, leaving one with that tacit understanding, Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\"\n\n25. Jackson, \"Reflections.\"\n\n26. Jackson, \"Reflections.\"\n\n27. Walter Troy Spencer, \"Too Much, My Dear,\" \"Last Call\" column, _Village Voice_ , July 10, 1969, p. 36.\n\n28. \"Gay Power in New York City,\" p. 40.\n\n29. Manford 1978.\n\n30. Lanigan-Schmidt\u2013Duberman interview.\n\n31. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n32. Manford 1989.\n\n33. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n34. Truscott, \"Gay Power,\" and Smith, \"Full Moon,\" p. 1. Tom is a made-up name for the anonymous _Rat_ reporter.\n\n35. Joel S.\u2013Carter. The direction of the patrol wagon is corroborated by other witnesses, including Maria Ritter.\n\n36. This is Joel S.'s description of the scene at the time the first paddy wagon arrived.\n\n37. Rodwell-Ardery interview. \"The raid was just starting at that time. And we noticed the crowds. We went over there,\" and Rodwell-Duberman: \"When we first arrived there... it was a small crowd... it had just started to gather.\" Game of bridge: Randy Shilts, _The Mayor of Castro Street_ (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1982), p. 42.\n\n38. Rodwell-Scherker interview. While in 1986 Craig Rodwell told Scherker that when he arrived there were two police cars in front of the Stonewall Inn, when he gave an account of the riots to Breck Ardery in 1970 he said that when he arrived \"there was a paddy wagon pulled up.\" I have decided to use the Ardery account concerning the police vehicles present, not only because it is so close in time to the event itself but also because according to Ed White's letter to Alfred Corn, it was while Mafia owners were being loaded into the van that \"[s]omeone shouted 'Gay Power,' \" for White's letter has the ring of someone noting the cry for the first time. He even says \"others took up the cry,\" which sounds similar to Rodwell telling Scherker, \"I can remember yelling 'Gay power' at one point, and people cheering, like this was the first time they'd ever heard something like that, you know. And then people throwing pennies or something.\" Note, too, that most accounts do not have money being thrown until a patrol wagon is on the scene and being loaded with prisoners.\n\n39. Rodwell-Scherker interview.\n\n40. Rodwell-Ardery interview.\n\n41. Pine-Isay and Pine-Carter interviews. Although Pine describes activities in the back room as happening mainly while the patrons were leaving, it is reasonable to assume that they began these activities while the patrons were lined up and waiting. Otherwise, what would the eight police officers have been doing during that time? Note, too, that in the Eskow account the police \"began clearing the bar [...] _[a]fter_ 28 cases of beer and 19 bottles of liquor were confiscated\" (emphasis added). In the Isay interview, Pine stated that the real motivation for removing the bars was to put pressure on the club's owners.\n\nPine never did learn who was giving the orders to disregard his calls for more patrol wagons and reinforcements. As the Sixth Precinct was well paid by the Stonewall Inn and as Pine had violated protocol by not informing them of the raid in advance and the Sixth Precinct was able to countermand the orders, it seems probable that these cancellations did originate from the Sixth Precinct in retaliation.\n\n42. Pine was quite clear in his interviews with the author that he made sure everyone he did not want to arrest was outside the club before he attempted to load any prisoners into vehicles.\n\n43. White-Corn letter. Both White and Truscott (\"Gay Power\") report negative and positive reactions from the crowd as the bar owners and employees are arrested. The accounts are ambiguous and could suggest that they were being either booed because of their own exploitation of gay people or cheered because of their connection with a bar that was a gay institution. Similarly, one could read the accounts as suggesting that the police were being booed (or cheered) for arresting them. White: \"As the Mafia owners were dragged out one by one and shoved into the wagon, the crowd would let up Bronx cheers and jeers and clapping. Someone shouted 'Gay Power,' others took up the cry\u2014and then it dissolved in giggles. A few more prisoners\u2014bartenders, hatcheck boys\u2014a few more cheers.\" Truscott: \"Suddenly the paddywagon arrived and the mood of the crowd changed. Three of the more blatant queens\u2014in full drag\u2014were loaded inside, along with the bartender and doorman, to a chorus of catcalls and boos from the crowd.\" While it is quite possible that different persons in the crowd reacted differently (some seeing the police as the enemy for arresting the mobsters, others applauding these arrests, and still others feeling that both were the enemy), I have interpreted the boos and catcalls at this point at being aimed primarily at the Mafia members and associates, per the account given by Vito Russo to Eric Marcus: \"People were... screaming at who they perceived to be the enemy,... the owners of the bar\u2014people who worked there.\" Even though Russo told Marcus he arrived later, after the patrol wagons had left, if some members of the crowd were screaming at the Mafiosi then, it seems probable that they would have done so earlier as well.\n\n44. Joel S.\u2013Carter interview: \"Sound carried very well that night.\"\n\n45. White-Corn letter.\n\n46. Fader-Carter interview. Harry Beard also saw John in the paddy wagon. Scherker-Beard interview.\n\n47. White-Corn letter.\n\n48. It is worth noting, however, that humor can be a way of sublimating anger, and various writers have noted over the years that as an oppressed minority, homosexuals found\u2014and continue to find\u2014a number of creative ways to express that anger, with camp humor being one of them.\n\n49. White-Corn letter.\n\n50. Truscott, \"Gay Power,\" p. 1.\n\n51. White-Corn letter.\n\n52. Based on numerous reports.\n\n53. _The New Symposium II_ , a WBAI Sunday gay radio program, broadcast transcript. The precise date of the program is unknown. The broadcast begins with an introductory statement by Charles Pitts saying, \"On _The New Symposium_ tonight we will hear an interview with a gay bar owner. But first we want to play a tape we recorded yesterday when we talked to a young man who was in the vicinity of the Stonewall bar during the riots there Friday and Saturday nights of last week.\" If Pitts considered Sunday to mark the beginning of a new week, then it is possible the program was taped on June 29, but it seems more likely from the description of the riots as taking place \"last week\" (instead of \"over the last two days,\" for example) that the interview with Sargeant was taped on Saturday, July 6, 1969.\n\n54. There can be practically no doubt that this was Tammy Novak that the _Rat_ reporter saw exiting. Not only does the description of Tommy fit Tammy Novak, but also Tree explained in a telephone conversation during the summer of 1999 that Tammy Novak's name as a boy was Tommy.\n\n55. When Ritter says \"older\" we need to note that she had just turned eighteen, so she just means older than herself.\n\n56. See Duberman, _Stonewall_ , p. 197, Rodwell-Duberman interview, and Maida Tilchen, \"Mythologizing Stonewall,\" _Gay Community News_ , June 23, 1979, p. 16.\n\n57. Note that the descriptions of her clothing given by several witnesses agree to a considerable degree, especially when one considers that the _Voice_ articles give no description of her clothing or any other details about her. Indeed, a careful reading of the two _Voice_ articles shows that only _one_ word, _dyke_ , is employed in the entirety of the _Voice_ 's reporting to describe this woman. It is therefore remarkable that witnesses Yates's, Hardy's, and Beard's accounts describing her appearance and dress agree in such detail, since the _earliest_ of these was given twenty years after the event. Also, Scherker's interview with Beard has never been published (although it is quoted in _Stonewall_ ) and when I interviewed Yates he had no particular interest in the lesbian, his interest centering more on his friend Gino's reaction to her mistreatment, for Yates thought it was perhaps Gino's cobblestone toss that had triggered the riots. In Mike Long's _San Francisco Sentinel_ article (\"Stonewall: The Night the Girls Said No!\" June 22, 1989, pp. 3\u20134) she is described as wearing \"a man's black leather suit.\" Beard described her to Scherker as being \"fully dressed in male clothing.\" It should be noted that while Duberman cites inconsistencies between Beard's accounts as given to Scherker and to the _San Francisco Sentinel_ , this is not necessarily the case, for while Beard's is the only name quotations are attributed to in the article, some quotes in the article are _not_ attributed, and the article begins by stating that \"three men [are] determined to set the record straight.\" (The other two men, shown in a photo with Beard, are Gene Huss and Don Knapp.) Also, whereas Duberman says (p. 299, n. 39) that Beard \"describes the cop as 'hitting her over the head with his billy club,' \" in the article this is not a direct quotation but a statement by the reporter. Duberman assumes that this information came from Beard, but it could just as well have come from Huss or Knapp. Still, I consider Beard a source to be used with some care, seeming at times given to exaggeration, as when in his interview with Scherker he said that twenty-five drag queens lined up in a chorus line and, under Beard's leadership, kicked the front door of the Stonewall Inn open.\n\nDescriptions of the lesbian's clothing are as follows: \"fully dressed in men's clothing\" (Beard-Scherker interview); \"a man's black leather suit\" (Beard and\/or Knapp and\/or Huss in Duberman, _Stonewall_ ); \"Dark suit. Sport coat, white shirt, tie,\" which Yates summed up as \"fancy, go-to-bar drag for a butch dyke\"; and \"I think she was in pants\" (Hardy, when asked about her clothes).\n\nThe similarities in the independent descriptions of the woman's body are also striking, again, especially after so many years. Yates describes her as \"beefy, good-sized,... probably in her late thirties, dark, very short... mannish haircut, typical New York butch, not Anglo, probably Italian or Jewish: dark hair, dark features.\" Hardy described her as \"bigger, huskier, not a femme, not a real feminine person. Not even a feminine person. Bigger size, nasty temper. She was at least as tall as I am; I'm five-seven. If I remember right, she had darker hair.\" Asked her impression of the lesbian's age, Hardy emphasized that she was only seventeen in June 1969 and has never been a good judge of age and therefore could only guess \"late twenties, early thirties.\"\n\nThe descriptions of this woman as a butch or bull-dyke type further increase the likelihood of these accounts being accurate because of another important piece of unpublished evidence. In the Lesbian Herstory Archives among the records of the film _Before Stonewall_ is the paper written by Tina Crosby on the Stonewall Riots as a piece of folk historical research, \"The Stonewall Riot Remembered.\" Crosby interviewed eight people, seven of whom either went to the Stonewall Inn or had participated in the riots. Crosby wrote that \"each person I talked with remembered the Stonewall as an exclusively male bar, with the only exception being an occasional _tough_ lesbian [emphasis added] or female friend of one of the male patrons.\" This paper is dated January 1974. The early date of Crosby's interviews, combined with the paper's unpublished status, make it valuable corroboration on this point.\n\n58. Hardy, who at five feet, seven inches, is tall for a woman, says that the arrested lesbian was at least as tall as she.\n\n59. Yates-Carter interview.\n\n60. This letter (referred to as the \"Rhoda letter\") was discovered by James T. Sears, who published an excerpt from it in his book _Lonely Hunters_. The letter is found in the Atlanta Lesbian Feminist Alliance Papers, Special Collections Library, Duke University. Unfortunately, not all pages of this letter have been preserved. Also, the manuscript at Duke is a photocopy of the original letter and not the original itself. Whether the original manuscript survives is unknown.\n\n61. Beard-Scherker interview.\n\n62. Long, \"Stonewall,\" June 22, 1989. Note that the two possibilities are not mutually exclusive: the lesbian could have both requested that the cuffs be loosened and protested the rough treatment.\n\n63. Beard's versions of the events surrounding the lesbian seem all the more plausible given the role in them of the handcuffs bothering the lesbian, for the role of handcuffs was also very much on the mind of Dave Van Ronk. Van Ronk explained that the handcuffs the police used on him were Spanish cuffs, metal handcuffs specifically made so that if one struggles to escape, they automatically tighten. However, the cuffs can also tighten simply from general movement. Van Ronk remembers this well because he made his living playing guitar: his cuffs had tightened and by the time he was released from the handcuffs he had lost some feeling in one of his hands. Note also that Steve Yates remembers the lesbian having her hands cuffed _behind_ her back, which is the way Van Ronk remembers his hands being cuffed, another indirect corroboration: it makes sense that the police would cuff all or most of the prisoners arrested in the same place at the same time in the same manner and (presumably) with the same kinds of handcuffs.\n\n64. Truscott, \"Gay Power,\" p. 1, and Smith, \"Full Moon,\" p. 25.\n\n65. Leo E. Laurence, \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops,\" _Berkeley Barb_ , July 4\u201310, 1969, p. 5. Laurence wrote: \"Ironically it was a chick who gave the rallying cry to fight.\" The _Magpie_ , a Los Angeles gay publication, in an August 1969 article by Bobbie Huff, \"N.Y. Po-lice Scream at Queens\" (p. 14), appears to quote the _Barb_ account but instead of calling the woman a \"chick\" identifies her as a \"female customer.\"\n\n66. Laurence, \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops.\"\n\n67. However, chronologically the event in _Rat_ seems too early in the evening and may very possibly have involved a male prisoner. Harry Beard, \"I Was There... the Stonewall Riot,\" _New York Gay Press_ 1, No. 1, July 1980, p. 5. \"The squad car tried to escape with its prisoner. Too late... the cops weren't going anywhere on four slashed tires.\" That police vehicles' tires were slashed is corroborated by four separate mentions in three independent accounts: the _Rat_ account, Beard's account, and two quotations by Morty Manford: a single short phrase in Manford 1978, \"Slashed tires of the paddy-wagon,\" and Manford 1989: \"I can't claim credit for the small acts of violence that took place. I didn't break any windows. I wasn't the one who had a knife and cut the tires on the paddy wagon. I didn't hit a cop and I didn't get hit by a cop.\"\n\n68. Yates-Carter interview. Note that according to Yates, Gino told everyone he was Italian, although Yates said he and his friends \"knew\" Gino was Puerto Rican.\n\n69. Hardy-Carter interview.\n\n70. According to \"I Was There,\" by Harry Beard, the patrol car he saw the lesbian put in had all of its tires slashed, which suggests the lesbian originally in the police car might have been subsequently placed inside the patrol wagon to make driving the police car easier.\n\n71. Dunn-Scherker interview.\n\n72. That Eagles thinks that the injured lesbian he saw had blood on her head suggests that this may be the same lesbian Beard says he saw get hit on the head. If this is the case, it could bolster the scenario laid out in note 70 whereby the lesbian in the police car could have been moved to the patrol wagon, which would also mean that the same lesbian could have been seen entering two vehicles, and thereby magnifying the impression some people had of the number of lesbians present. However, I accept the testimony of Beard, Eagles, and Dunn that more than one lesbian was present, although I think there were probably only two or three lesbians at most inside the Stonewall Inn on this occasion. Another difficulty with Eagles's account about the lesbians is that the arrested Raymond Castro was placed inside a patrol wagon with a lesbian and it is very clear that she was not injured.\n\n73. There can be little doubt that Castro was the person Tom saw fighting the cops, for note both that Tom puts the man \"at the door\" of the Stonewall where Castro was by his own account and Tom writes that \"5 or 6 cops... tried to subdue him.\" Castro told the author that when he got to the police station an officer of higher rank suggested that he was an animal because it had taken five policemen to subdue him. It was very probably Ray whom Fader also had in mind when he said, \"I think there was a fellow\u2014he was a strong guy, and I think he got in kind of a fight with them. They put him in the wagon.\" Fader-Carter interview. Castro's arrest Friday night is also corroborated via Carter's interviews with both Joel S. and Perrin.\n\n74. Manford-Marcus interview. Manford attributed this act by the local police to their being conscripted into the raid by \"treasury police,\" but a more reasonable interpretation is that the Sixth Precinct was angry about not being notified by the Public Morals Division of the raid until the last moment, especially if this would endanger their payoffs from the Stonewall Inn. One also has to wonder whether from where Manford was standing he could see the police struggling to subdue Ray Castro. If not, Manford may not have known why the police were leaving the rear of the van.\n\n75. Murphy-Davis interview.\n\n76. The original account has a typographical error here: \"tried the resting the guy\"; _assisting_ is the only word that would seem to both fit the context and be capable of being misread as \"the resting.\"\n\n77. Smith, \"Full Moon,\" p. 25.\n\n78. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n79. The slashed tires may also help explain why it took the patrol wagon so long to return: perhaps the tires were changed at the Sixth Precinct or another patrol wagon had to be found.\n\n80. Smith, \"Full Moon.\" That the officer Pine spoke to was one of the drivers of the vehicle: Pine-Isay interview. In that interview Pine does not say which driver of which vehicle he spoke to.\n\n81. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n82. Eskow identifies the officer as Gil Weissman.\n\n83. Pine-Isay interview; Smith, \"Full Moon\": \"the only uniformed cop among them.\" He is identified as Gil Weissman in Eskow; see note 82.\n\n84. Van Ronk's birthday was not until the thirtieth of the month, so he was celebrating early, presumably because, as was the case with Steve Yates, it was the weekend closest to his actual birthday.\n\n85. _NYT_ , June 29, 1969, and Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n86. \"Pennies were flung at the door of the bar and the mass of evicted homosexuals tittered in defiance.\" Manford 1978.\n\n87. \"Dirty Copper!\": Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n88. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n89. Under the eye: Smith, \"Full Moon.\" Right eye: Police log, June 28, 1969. Pine in his interview with the author gave a very different account of the incident: Pine is very clear that he saw Van Ronk purposefully approach Weissman and flip a coin directly into his face, causing the injury. Pine further asserts that far from picking someone at random, he knew who had injured Weissman and followed him into the crowd.\n\n90. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n91. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n92. Pine-Isay interview.\n\n93. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n94. Pine-Isay interview.\n\n95. Van Ronk explicitly rejects Howard Smith's account of the police beating him, even going so far as to say that the scene inside the Stonewall Inn was so confused that he is not sure whether the kicks he received were purposeful or inadvertent. Van Ronk\u2013Carter interview.\n\n96. Smith, \"Full Moon.\" Note that according to Pine, it was Smith who approached him: \"At that point, a reporter from the _Village Voice_ came up and asked if he could stay on our side to see what we were doing, and he would cover it from that angle, rather than from out front. He showed me his press card; that was okay with me.\" Pine-Carter interview.\n\n97. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n98. Smith-Carter interview.\n\n## 9 : L A N C I N G T H E F E S T E R I N G W O U N D O F A N G E R\n\n1. Pine-Isay interview.\n\n2. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n3. Truscott-Carter interview.\n\n4. Truscott-Carter interview. Note how closely this agrees with the account in _Rat_ of the meaning of what happened at that time: \"A few pigs outside had to flee for their lives... and barricade themselves in. It was too good to be true. The crowd took the offensive.\"\n\n5. Fader-Carter interview. Note the similarity to a quote published a year later on Stonewall's first anniversary: \"It was our Verdun: Thou shalt not pass and all that.\" Hans Knight, \" 'Other Society' Moves into the Open,\" _Sunday Bulletin_ , July 19, 1970.\n\n6. David Isay, _Remembering Stonewall_ , 1989 Pacifica Radio Archive.\n\n7. _Newsweek_ , October 27, 1969.\n\n8. Manford 1989. Photographic corroboration of Manford's account can be seen in a photograph by Diana Davies taken of the front of the Stonewall Inn shortly after the riot, that shows the lower left pane of the double window immediately above the Stonewall Inn's entrance broken.\n\n9. Manford 1989.\n\n10. Bruce Voeller, \"Stonewall Anniversary: Assessing the Activist Years,\" _Advocate_ , July 12, 1979, p. 30. Voeller continues: \"Stories about the following events differ. In some, a transvestite picked up a rock and threw it at the police; in others, the young Puerto Rican, who may have been nongay, threw a beer can. Whoever acted first started an avalanche.\" That it is Voeller who wrote this is all the more interesting, given Voeller's strong interest in the Stonewall Riots. Unfortunately, Voeller does not say if he was at the riots, whether he witnessed any of this, and, if not, what his sources are.\n\n11. The photograph by Ambrosini is reprinted on the cover of this book.\n\nHoose-Carter interview. The quote is what Hoose remembers his friend the deceased John Goodman telling him immediately after Hoose arrived. Robert Bryan corroborates John Goodman's presence at the riots on Friday. Besides the testimony of Goodman about the leading role of Zazu Nova, we have John O'Brien's testimony that he saw Nova there the first night and in the company of Marsha Johnson, although O'Brien did not see Nova fighting but getting her photo taken on a corner with Marsha. Still, O'Brien arrived after the initial outburst that forced the police to retreat inside the Stonewall Inn, so he could not have seen the first instigators of violence.\n\nTestimony about the primacy of Marsha Johnson's role is widespread but generally second- or even thirdhand. For instance, both Robert Heide and John O'Brien saw Marsha in the crowd outside the club on the first night and both independently described her as being in semidrag, not full drag. Heide says he saw her \"just in the middle of the whole thing, screaming and yelling and throwing rocks and almost like Molly Pitcher in the Revolution or something. I mean, a loud yelling and screaming, 'You can't do that. Who the hell, who the fuck!' \" He is also clear, however, that he cannot say that she was the first to throw an object: \"I didn't see this, but I did speak with someone who claims that Marsha was the first one to throw a stone at a policeman.\" Heide-Carter interview.\n\nAs is true here with Heide, several others interviewed for this history said that soon after the first night of the riots they heard that she was the person who really started it. There is also an intriguing account that Robin Souza told the author that he heard first from Marty Robinson in the fall of 1969 and from Morty Manford in the mid-1970s: that after the police entered the bar Marsha threw a shot glass into a mirror, saying, \"I got my civil rights!\" and that Morty said that was what started the riots. Souza said that in the Gay Activists Alliance that was called \"the shot glass that was heard around the world.\" While I believe Souza is telling the truth when he says that Morty told him this story, there are several problems with it. First is that Morty left several accounts of the riots before his death, including several written by him, and did not once include any mention of Marsha. (This raises the possibility that Morty may have censored his own recorded accounts, fearing that to publicly credit a severely mentally ill transvestite prostitute with starting the Stonewall Riots, and thus indirectly the gay liberation movement, could have been used effectively by the movement's opponents.) Second, Seymour Pine said that there were no black transgendered persons inside the bar.\n\nIt seems clear that whether it was Jackie Hormona who was the first person to be violent (or to perform the first act of violence that precipitated an outpouring of violence), it seems reasonable to conclude that Marsha Johnson was almost indubitably among the first to be violent that night and may possibly even have been the first. Marsha's inability to speak with any coherence and focus is no doubt the reason we do not have a clear account of her own recollections.\n\nTo this date there are no known interviews or accounts by Zazu Nova. This may have something to do with her apolitical nature. According to John O'Brien, who knew Nova from the trucks, \"Basically Nova was very much into her looks. I mean, she was very narcissistic... very much so... was worried about her looks and her face and everything.... She was an attitude queen, but not a political queen.\" O'Brien-Carter interview.\n\n12. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n13. Manford 1989.\n\n14. \"No place for Gaiety,\" _New York Post_ , June 28, 1969.\n\n15. O'Brien noted that the main concentrations of people doing most of the action were at the west end of the Stonewall Inn, close to the stoop that Craig Rodwell and Fred Sargeant had climbed to witness the action and directly across the street from the stoop. Truscott, who the reader will remember had perched himself on top of a garbage can on the east side of the stoop to better witness the action, also remembers the way the crowd focused its anger on the Stonewall's west window.\n\n16. O'Brien, like Kohler, was aware of the meter being loose.\n\n17. O'Brien's description of one of the men who uprooted the meter is corroborated by Fader: \"I remember one guy, kind of a muscular, heavy guy, blond guy\u2014some people had started to pull a parking meter.\" (Fader-Carter interview.) O'Brien's description of the men uprooting the parking meter being masculine in appearance but also with a street feel to them also matches Edmund White's description of the same scene: \"Some adorable butch hustler boys pull up a _parking meter_ [emphasis in original], mind you, out of the pavement and use it as a battering ram.\" White-Corn letter.\n\n18. Eskow agrees that \"windows were smashed.\"\n\n19. White-Corn letter.\n\n20. White-Corn letter.\n\n21. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n22. _Rat_ , July 9, 1969, and Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\"\n\n23. Kohler-Carter interview.\n\n24. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n25. Beard, \"I Was There,\" p. 5. That a piece of glass was thrown in this manner at the police through the open door is corroborated fully by Sargeant's account given to WBAI and partially by _Rat_ 's statement: \"the cops inside were scared shitless, dodging projectiles and flying glass.\"\n\n26. Kohler-Carter interview.\n\n27. Rodwell-Scherker interview October 9, 1986, and Rodwell-Duberman interview.\n\n28. While Smith wrote that it was a \"large wrench,\" Pine is adamant that it was the Stonewall Inn's fire ax that Smith took to protect himself with and not a wrench: Pine-Carter interview.\n\n29. Leitsch-Carter interview.\n\n30. Used hose to put fire out: Eskow and Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n31. _Rat_ , July 9, 1969.\n\n32. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n33. Pine cannot recall whether it was he or Smythe who discovered a way to get the policewoman outside the bar. Since Pine states that his main focus was very much on keeping his men from firing, I have written this account as if it was Smythe who got the policewoman out, which Pine told an interviewer he finds a logical assumption.\n\n34. Smith-Carter interview.\n\n35. \"Wooden wall... was forced down\": _Rat_ , July 9, 1969.\n\n36. \"[T]he mob will pour in\": Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n37. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n38. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n39. \"[C]ome up with another assault\": Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n40. \"[T]he door is broken down\": White-Corn letter. The account of lighting a fire inside the Stonewall is corroborated by Dave Van Ronk, who told the author that he recalled walking past the Stonewall Inn shortly after the riots and seeing that the bottom part of the entrance door had been burned.\n\n41. \"[L]it a trash can full of paper afire and stuffed it\": _Rat_ , July 9, 1969.\n\n42. Manford 1989.\n\n43. The symbolism of the coatroom being burned was noted by Eric Marcus in his interview with Morty Manford.\n\n44. Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\" Craig Rodwell similarly recounted, \"I remember [a] person coming up and squirting lighter fluid into the broken windows and then throwing matches in,\" though, Rodwell added, \"it never caught.\" Rodwell-Scherker interview.\n\n45. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n46. In the last paragraph of page 1 of Manford \"Remembrances,\" Manford makes a kind of impressionistic and dramatic collage of the evening's high points and mentions \"fire trucks circling; the hosing-down of the crowd.\"\n\n47. White-Corn letter. Note that Manford's use of the plural in note 46 is a corroboration of White on there being more than one fire truck at the scene: \"fire trucks\" and \"two fire engines.\"\n\n48. Manford 1989. Original has \"started\" rather than \"start.\"\n\n49. TPF: Pine-Isay and Pine-Carter interviews.\n\n50. Smith, \"Full Moon.\"\n\n51. Police clearing the crowds away from the Stonewall Inn's entrance: Pine-Carter interview.\n\n52. Garvin-Carter interview.\n\n53. Sixth Precinct police log for June 28, 1969.\n\n54. Police predesignated: Pine-Carter interview.\n\n55. Calling ambulance: Pine-Carter interview.\n\n56. St. Vincent's Hospital: Sixth Precinct police log for June 28, 1969.\n\n57. Van Ronk\u2013Carter interview. Location of patrol wagon corroborated by Marle Becker.\n\n58. Becker-Carter interview. Asked how he could be sure they were transvestites from such a distance, Becker responded that they were all wearing dresses and that the only people he regularly saw at the Stonewall Inn in dresses were men.\n\n59. Pine-Carter interview.\n\n60. Pine-Carter interview.\n\n61. Apparently Rodwell means Christopher Park. In the manner of most New Yorkers, he seems to be referring to the park as Sheridan Square.\n\n62. Rhoda letter. Note that the evidence that it was the fire truck hoses that were used on the rioters is inferential, for the Rhoda letter uses the plural, _fire hoses_ , and by all accounts there was only one fire hose in the Stonewall Inn. That the fire trucks' hoses were used on the crowd is confirmed by a brief mention in the collage-style paragraph written by Morty Manford ca. 1978: \"the hosing-down of the crowd,\" which immediately follows the phrase \"fire trucks circling.\" (See note 46 above.) One suspects that for propaganda purposes most witnesses have not wanted to recall the hosing down of the crowd, for it would be the one definite instance during the riot when the protesters were humiliated.\n\n63. Rodwell-Scherker interview.\n\n64. Telephone conversation with John Fisk, October 21, 1997.\n\n## 10 : \"C H R I S T O P H E R S T R E E T B E L O N G S T O T H E Q U E E N S!\"\n\n1. Babick-Scherker interview.\n\n2. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n3. I am grateful to Danny Garvin for providing the fuller text of this slogan, the beginning of which is not visible in the McDarrah photographs, making it clear that the slogan is referring to the Vietnam War.\n\n4. Fred McDarrah, the _Village Voice_ photographer, took photographs of some of the rioters on Saturday night. The first slogan quoted here is visible in one of those photographs. The photograph of the second slogan was made the same weekend, if not on Saturday. For a copy of the photographs with these slogans, see McDarrah and McDarrah, _Gay Pride_ , pp. xxxvi and 3.\n\n5. Dick Leitsch, \"The Stonewall Riots[:] The Police Story,\" _NYMN_ , August 1969, pp. 5\u20136.\n\n6. _NYT_ , June 30, 1969.\n\n7. Rodwell, from leaflet titled _Get the Mafia and the Cops Out of Gay Bars_. Rodwell issued the flyer in the name of HYMN.\n\n8. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n9. Rodwell-Ardery interview.\n\n10. Rodwell-Duberman interview.\n\n11. Within two to three hours: Rodwell-Ardery interview.\n\n12. While Rodwell told Duberman that \"people started to come down here in the early evening, eight o'clock probably or something like that,\" most contemporary accounts have the crowds assembling late in the evening and early morning. Fred Sargeant, Craig's lover, told WBAI Radio within days of the riots that the crowd assembled around 12:00 A.M. (This latter is from my notes made after hearing the WBAI interview, so it is based on my memory and not a transcript.) While it is possible that people began to filter into the neighborhood around 8:00 P.M., it does not sound as if the crowds were truly sizable and identifiable as crowds until around midnight.\n\n13. Rhoda letter.\n\n14. _NYT_ , June 29 and 30, 1969; Leitsch, _NYMN;_ and Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n15. _NYT_ , June 30, 1969; Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969; and Laurence, \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops.\" Craig Rodwell told Martin Duberman that people started \"to come down here in the early evening, eight o'clock probably... and gradually it got to be 8:30, 9:00 o'clock.... Just thousands of people. Spilling over into the street. And that's when we decided to block off the street.\" However, Rodwell told this to Duberman over twenty years after the events. I have noticed in my many interviews with Stonewall Riots witnesses that the element they consistently are the least reliable on is that of time, and they also tend to consistently place times of events earlier than they in fact happened. I base my attribution of error to them because both news and police reports recorded at the time of these events tend to generally agree on the timing of events. Since contemporary news and police reports agree that the crowd started to act up probably around 12:45 A.M. at the earliest, I give these contemporaneous records more weight than Rodwell's much later interview with Duberman.\n\n16. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n17. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n18. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n19. _NYT_ , June 30, 1969.\n\n20. Unfortunately, the accounts that mention the handing out of literature do not make it clear what pieces were handed out except that Edmund White's letter to Alfred Corn states that the Mattachine Society was handing out the pamphlet _What to Do If You Are Arrested_. It would appear very likely that what was handed out by Rodwell was an earlier draft of the leaflet he gave out on Sunday, _Get the Mafia and Cops Out of Gay Bars_ , and that similarly the Mattachine Society of New York was also handing out an early version of Leitsch's \"The Hairpin Drop Heard Around the World.\"\n\n21. White-Corn letter. Note that White's account corroborates O'Brien's assertion that he invited members of the Crazies to the demonstration and that they came.\n\n22. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n23. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n24. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n25. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n26. Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\"\n\n27. Babick-Scherker interview.\n\n28. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n29. Sign on door: _NYT_ , June 29, 1969.\n\n30. Owners trying to coax customers into the Stonewall Inn as chants grew louder and more frequent: Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n31. Crowd growing restless: Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n32. Laurence, \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops\"; Rodwell-Duberman interview.\n\n33. Old lady trying to get through crowd: Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n34. As of 2003, June 28, 1969, was still the hottest June 28 in New York City history: <http:\/\/www.weather.com\/weather\/climatology\/USNY0996?climoMonth=6>.\n\n35. Rodwell-Duberman interview. Leitsch's account corroborates Rodwell on the crowd's overflowing from the sidewalks into the street: \"As the mob grew, it spilled off the sidewalk, overflowed Sheridan Square Park, and began to fill the roadway.\" Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n36. When they decided to block off Christopher Street: Rodwell-Duberman interview. According to Leitsch (\"Hairpin\"), as the crowd began to spill over into the streets \"[o]ne of the six cops who were there to keep order began to get smart and cause hostility.\" Leitsch's very next sentence begins: \"A bus driver blew his horn at the meeting, and someone shouted, 'Stop the Bus!' \" which seems to suggest that the decision to occupy Christopher Street may have been instigated by hostility from unsympathetic heterosexuals, but both Rodwell's and Sargeant's accounts carry no such suggestion. The reader needs to remember that Leitsch was writing as the head of Mattachine\u2013New York and, while his account is both an admirable job of reporting and an important historical record, one should expect it to carry somewhat of a bias in favor of the protesters by emphasizing negative behavior on the side of the police and downplaying any such behavior by the demonstrators.\n\n37. Sargeant on WBAI interview late June or early July 1969 and Rodwell-Ardery interview. It is significant that this assertion is made by both individuals independently in two interviews very close to the time of the riots, yet this aspect of the riots has never been commented upon in any of the literature on the Stonewall Riots.\n\n38. In 1990s terminology, this would be the right to gay (or queer) space. This interpretation of the meaning of excluding nongay traffic is the author's own and is not based on interviews with any Stonewall Riots participants.\n\n39. A witness indicates that vehicles of people who showed support for gay people were allowed through.\n\n40. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n41. Rodwell-Duberman interview.\n\n42. Dick Leitsch wrote to the author in an October 30, 2003, e-mail that he had never heard of this purported death and believed it to be urban legend, but Kohler wrote about it in 1970 and in an e-mail to the author, also on October 30, 2003, confirmed that Rodwell had criticized him \"for being insensitive to the cab driver's death by using it in an article,\" confirming that Rodwell also believed the man to have died. The article \"Where Have All the Flowers Gone\" ( _Come Out!_ 1, No. 2, January 10, 1970), about the street youths, reminisced about the riots. In it Kohler wrote: \"I remembered when... Christopher Street was a battleground... and the Cab Driver who had a heart attack when his cab was overturned (in time of peace and war\u2014the man said\u2014many sparrows fall!).\" Like Rodwell, Kohler also recalls the incident as taking place on the night of Saturday, June 28, 1969. Kohler told the author in a phone conversation on the same day that he sent the e-mail that he remembered that the man was very old.\n\n43. In 1969 author Jamake Highwater went by the name J. Marks. He is quoted extensively on Saturday night's events by Leo Laurence in \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops.\"\n\n44. Unfortunately, Rodwell did not describe the situation in enough detail to make the meaning of this incident clear. Again, since most New Yorkers refer to Christopher Park as Sheridan Square and as a group of policemen had been stationed in front of the Stonewall Inn and in the account just before this Craig is positioned on Christopher Street close to Greenwich Avenue, there can be no doubt that he is talking about Christopher Park, as Sheridan Square is not visible from Christopher Street close to Greenwich Avenue. According to Rodwell, the barrage injured people (at least some of them police, presumably) and made the police very angry.\n\n45. Youth bouncing garbage can lids and shopkeeper scolding the police: Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n46. Howard Brown, M.D., _Familiar Faces, Hidden Lives: The Story of Homosexual Men in America Today_ (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1976), pp. 12, 19\u201320.\n\n47. Wilson to Carter in conversation, September 4, 2003; Babick-Scherker interview.\n\n48. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n49. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n50. Highwater (J. Marks) quoted in Laurence, \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops.\"\n\n51. _NYT_ , June 30, 1969.\n\n52. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n53. _NYT_ , June 30, 1969.\n\n54. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n55. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n56. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n57. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n58. Truscott, \"Gay Power,\" and Highwater (J. Marks) in Laurence, \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops.\"\n\n59. White-Corn letter.\n\n60. Edited together from two _NYMN_ articles. The first and last sentences of this extract are from the August 1969 issue of _NYMN;_ the rest is from the July 1969 issue.\n\n61. Kohler, \"Where Have All the Flowers Gone.\"\n\n62. Note also in this regard that in Leitsch's statement he qualifies his own words by saying \"for the most part\" and \"participated peripherally.\" He is not saying, of course, that all the physical courage and bravery was on the part of the more effeminate members of the crowd but that as a group, they were the most courageous.\n\n63. Although none of the accounts state explicitly that Grove Street, running on the south side of Christopher Park, was shut down between Waverly Place and West 4th Street, it is only logical to assume that it was, given the apparent police objective of controlling the area around the Stonewall Inn, which was the focal point of protests on both Friday and Saturday nights.\n\n64. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n65. References to Spencer are from Walter Troy Spencer's \"Last Call\" column in the July 10, 1969, _Village Voice_ , titled \"Too Much My Dear,\" a highly insulting piece of reportage, p. 36.\n\n66. White-Corn letter.\n\n67. Brutality of TPF: _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n68. Kevin Liscoe letter to the editor, _Village Voice_ , July 10, 1969, p. 4.\n\n69. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n70. Demonstrators on Waverly Place realizing they outnumbered their pursuers: Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n71. Jack Nichols and Lige Clarke, \"Homosexual Citizen\" column, _Screw_ , July 25, 1969, p. 16.\n\n72. Three heterosexual couples fleeing TPF with homosexuals: Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n73. Number of police officers between two and three hundred: Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n74. Bars closing at 3:00 A.M. and patrons coming to Sheridan Square area: Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n75. _NYT_ , June 30, 1969.\n\n76. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n77. According to the June 30 _NYT_ , the TPF was withdrawn at 4:00 A.M.; Leitsch puts the time of withdrawal at 5:30 A.M. _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n78. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , July 1969.\n\n## 11 : \"T H E Y'V E L O S T T H A T W O U N D E D L O O K\"\n\n1. Rodwell-Scherker interview.\n\n2. See chapter 8, introductory unnumbered note.\n\n3. The sign is visible in a photograph taken by Fred McDarrah on Sunday, June 29, 1969. Leitsch told the author that the message was written by the Stonewall's owners, who asked him to okay it, and that he barely glanced at it, telling them that he didn't care if they put it up or not. Such a claim does not seem likely when one compares the literacy and neat lettering of this sign with the crudeness and semiliteracy of the signs put up by the Mafia. Even if the sign were the Mafia's idea, okaying the sign (as Leitsch says he did, however offhandedly), especially with the use of the name of the organization he headed attached to it, Leitsch became obligated to take a large amount of the responsibility for the sign.\n\n4. Crowd turnout Sunday, leather contingent: Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n5. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n6. All the cops at The Corner: Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n7. Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n8. Laurence, \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops.\"\n\n9. Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\" Colors of bumper stickers: Tom Burke, \"The New Homosexuality,\" _Esquire_ , December 1969, pp. 178, 304\u201318.\n\n10. Police conversation reportedly overheard by Mattachine\u2013New York member: Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n11. Police begging homosexuals to go to the Stonewall Inn: Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\"\n\n12. Nonhelmeted TPF sweep: Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n13. Mead and Ginsberg in front of United Cigar Store: Truscott-Carter interview.\n\n14. Alison Colbert, \"A Talk with Allen Ginsberg,\" _Partisan Review_ 38, No. 3, 1971, pp. 289\u2013309, reprinted in Allen Ginsberg, _Spontaneous Mind: Selected Interviews 1958\u20131996_ , David Carter, ed. (New York: HarperCollins, 2001).\n\n15. \"To show the colors\": Ginsberg interview by Allen Young, first published in _Gay Sunshine_ , No. 16, January\u2013February 1973, pp. 1, 4\u201310, reprinted several times, including in Ginsberg, _Spontaneous Mind_ (see note 14).\n\n16. Ginsberg walking to Stonewall and dancing: Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n17. Appearance inside Stonewall: Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n18. \"After about an hour\": Truscott-Carter.\n\n19. Truscott walking Ginsberg home: Truscott, \"Gay Power.\"\n\n20. Young, _Gay Sunshine_.\n\n21. Ginsberg interview for film _Before Stonewall_ transcript, Lesbian Herstory Archives.\n\n22. Cop at Waverly Place as victim of firecrackers and having his badge stolen: Leitsch, \"Hairpin.\" (The badge was found the following day by the police stuck in a string of pickled pig's feet hanging from a tree in Washington Square Park.) Edward Villella was principal dancer with the New York City Ballet in the 1960s.\n\n23. Burke, \"New Homosexuality.\" The article does not give the date Burke witnessed this encounter, but it is clearly several days into the riots.\n\n24. The date of the _Voice_ pieces can easily lead to confusion about chronology. The edition with Truscott's and Smith's articles is dated July 3, Thursday, but although _The Voice_ was dated Thursday it came out late on Wednesday night (another useful corroboration that events on Wednesday night happened late in the evening, incidentally).\n\n25. I do not think it fair to characterize Smith's phrase \"the gay customers freshly ejected from their hangout, prancing high and jubilant in the street,\" as derogatory. As the reader has seen from the accounts in this volume, there was a great deal of very flamboyant behavior at the time of the riots. This was especially true on the first night at the very time Smith is reporting on with the preceding phrase, i.e., the time when the customers were leaving the Stonewall Inn before the protest began to turn serious. A more objective assessment would be that in this instance Smith probably was quite accurate in his recording of the prevalent tone of the camp protest at that particular moment.\n\n26. Smith, \"Full Moon,\" and Truscott, \"Gay Pride.\"\n\n27. White-Corn letter.\n\n28. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n29. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n30. John Thomas, letter to the editor, _Village Voice_ , July 10, 1969, p. 4.\n\n31. _New York Post_ , July 3, 1969.\n\n32. _NYT_ , July 3, 1969.\n\n33. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n34. Protesters' setting trash on fire at Waverly and Christopher: Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident\"; fires set along Christopher Street: _NYT_ , July 3, 1969.\n\n35. The TPF and fire department responding: Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\" Besides the TPF, the only other police presence reported in the media for Wednesday night is that of the Sixth Precinct. _NYT_ , July 3, 1969.\n\n36. _New York Post_ , July 3, 1969.\n\n37. Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\"\n\n38. _NYT_ , July 3, 1969.\n\n39. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n40. Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\"\n\n41. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n42. \"Cop Injured 5 Seized in Village,\" _New York Post_ , July 3, 1969. _NYT_ (July 3, 1969) similarly noted that \"members of the Tactical Patrol Force and police of the Charles Street station [...] were the targets occasionally of bottles and beer cans.\"\n\n43. Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\"\n\n44. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n45. While the July 3 _NYT_ reported that \"at least four\" were arrested, according to both the letter from Thomas published in the _Voice_ and the July 3 _New York Post_ , five persons were arrested.\n\n46. Leitsch, _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n47. Di Brienza, \"Stonewall Incident.\" The July 3, 1969, _New York Post_ account, the only other published account that addresses the duration of Wednesday's rioting, corroborates Di Brienza's statement that Wednesday night's events lasted approximately one hour.\n\n## 12 : S E I Z I N G T H E M O M E N T\n\n1. The account in this chapter of the series of meetings and actions that took place during the month between the Stonewall Riots and the founding of the Gay Liberation Front, unless otherwise noted, is based primarily on Toby Marotta's _The Politics of Homosexuality_ and secondarily on Donn Teal's _The Gay Militants_.\n\n2. While Katzenberg had started to organize a gay Left organization before the riots, the radicalizing effect the street actions had is demonstrated by the difference in tone between the two ads for the same meeting that appeared in _Rat_. The ad placed by Katzenberg and O'Brien before the riots stated: A group of young radical homosexuals will meet this week to develop a critique of heterosexual supremacy, both in society and within the movement. The second ad used Pitts's language: Do you THINK HOMOSEXUALS ARE REVOLTING? YOU BET YOUR SWEET ASS WE ARE. We're going to make a place for ourselves in the revolutionary movement. We challenge the myths that are screwing up this society.\n\n3. _Gay Power_ flyer with date notated, \"7\/1\/69\u20137\/2\/69,\" Leitsch papers.\n\n4. _Homosexual Liberation Meeting_ flyer with date notated \"7\/5\/69\u20137\/6\/69,\" Leitsch papers.\n\n5. _Gay Crusaders_ , pp. 173\u201374; Raul Ramirez, \"I Remember Stonewall,\" _San Francisco Examiner_ , June 4, 1989.\n\n6. Shelley-Scherker interview.\n\n7. Marotta, _Politics of Homosexuality_ , p. 71.\n\n8. _Oh Boy!_ flyer, Leitsch papers; Leitsch-Carter interview; Wicker-Marcus interview; [Lige] Clark and [Jack] Nichols, \"Remember the Stonewall,\" _Gay_ , June 29, 1970; McDarrah and McDarrah, _Gay Pride_ , p. xxxv. While the claim of three days doesn't quite seem to fit with the chronology of the riots and the event at the Electric Circus, these are the youth's words as Wicker remembers them.\n\n9. Shelley-Scherker interview. Bob Kohler heard Shelley proclaiming the name Gay Liberation Front and so has always incorrectly credited her with inventing the name.\n\n10. _Village Voice_ , July 24, 1969, Leitsch papers.\n\n11. \"From Outside the Pen,\" _Rat_ 2, No. 15, [late July] 1969, p. 4; O'Brien-Carter interview.\n\n12. Mattachine\u2013New York flyer, Leitsch papers.\n\n13. Burke, \"New Homosexuality.\"\n\n14. Kimberly Scott, \"Stonewall's Aftermath Spurred D.C. Successes,\" _Washington Blade_ , May 25, 1994.\n\n15. Kameny disputes Rodwell's contention that he used a blow to separate the two women's hands, saying that he simply walked up to the women and passed his hand between them, thereby separating them.\n\n16. Jonathan Black, \"Gay Power Hits Back,\" _Village Voice_ , August 1, 1969, pp. 1, 3; \"Gay Power in New York City,\" quoted in Gay Community News 20, Nos. 1\u20132, June 1994, p.3; O'Brien-Carter interview.\n\n17. Ellipses are in the original article.\n\n18. \"Gay Revolution Comes Out,\" _Rat_ , August 12\u201316, 1969.\n\n## 13 : \"W E'R E T H E G A Y L I B E R A T I O N F R O N T!\"\n\n1. Jonathan Black, \"The Boys in the Snake Pit,\" _Village Voice_ , March 19, 1970, and N. A. Diaman's _Making Gay History_ , an unpublished manuscript. I am indebted to Diaman for letting me quote from _Making Gay History_ for the description of a GLF dance and the GLF meetings where votes were taken over donating money to the Black Panthers.\n\n2. Tobin and Wicker, _Gay Crusaders_ , pp. 29\u201345.\n\n3. Diaman, _Making Gay History_.\n\n4. O'Brien-Carter interview.\n\n5. John Lauritsen, \"The First Gay Liberation Front Demonstration,\" _New York Native_ , June 26, 1989, p. 20.\n\n6. Mike Brown, Michael Tallman, and Leo Louis Martello, \"The Summer of Gay Power and the _Village Voice_ Exposed,\" _Come Out!_ 1, No. 1 November 11, 1969, pp. 10\u201311.\n\n7. On Robinson using the early actions as experiments, see Marotta, _Politics of Homosexuality_ , pp. 135\u201339, and Evans-Carter interview.\n\n8. Teal, _Gay Militants_ , pp. 48\u201350; Tobin and Wicker, _Gay Crusaders_ , p. 168; and _Come Out!_ , November 11, 1969.\n\n9. Rodwell told Duberman in the 1990s that he had the idea for the event on the bus ride back from the Fifth Annual Reminder, but he had told Michael Scherker in 1986 that he had the idea some weeks after his return to New York City. However, on the record \"June 28, 1970: Gay and Proud,\" made for the occasion of the first Christopher Street Liberation Day, Rodwell told interviewer Breck Ardery in 1970 that he and his three friends had brainstormed the entire concept in October of 1969, without saying if or when he himself first had the idea.\n\n10. [Craig Rodwell], \"Gay Holiday,\" _Hymnal_ 2, No. 1, January 1970, p. 8; Rodwell-Scherker interview; Rodwell-Duberman interview; Marotta, _Politics of Homosexuality_ , pp. 164\u201365; and Teal, _Gay Militants_ , p. 300.\n\n11. Marotta, _Politics of Homosexuality_ , p. 90.\n\n12. O'Brien-Carter interview.\n\n13. Teal, _Gay Militants_ , pp. 89\u201390, and Arthur Bell, _Dancing the Gay Lib Blues_ , p. 16.\n\n## 14 : T H E H E R O I C A G E\n\n1. Unless otherwise indicated by a note, this account of the history of the formation of the Gay Activists Alliance and the first six months of its existence is drawn from Bell, _Dancing_ , and Teal, _Gay Militants_.\n\n2. Date of early October is from _GAA Reunion_ 1, No. 6, December 3, 1994, hereafter _Reunion_. Jim and Marty conceived of the organization at 29 Jones Street.\n\n3. GAA 1971 flyer, quoted in _Reunion_.\n\n4. Bell, _Dancing_ , pp. 21\u201323. The text of the preamble is given here exactly as printed in Bell.\n\n5. Bell, _Dancing_ , p. 31, and Souza-Carter interview.\n\n6. \"Lawrence\" is a made-up name for the Snake Pit employee who anonymously gave Arthur Bell an account of the raid and subsequent events at the Sixth Precinct police station in _Gay Power_ , No. 13.\n\n7. This is an inference drawn from a report of the men inside the station calling GAA and another report that Owles and Robinson received a phone call at around that same time notifying them of what was happening, though there are other ways that the news could have reached Robinson and Owles.\n\n8. This account of the Snake Pit raid and the accident Vinales suffered is based on Bell, _Dancing_ ; Teal, _Gay Militants;_ Disk Leitsch, \"The Snake Pit Raid: Some After-thoughts,\" \"The Snake Pit Raid:\" \"500 Angry Homosexuals Protest Raid,\" \"Patrons Tell of Raid from Inside,\" and \"Responsible Cop Cops Out,\" all in _Gay_ 1, No. 10, April 13, 1970; Leo Louis Martello, \"Raid Victim Impaled on Fence,\" _Los Angeles Advocate_ , April 29\u2013May 12, 1970; Arthur Irving (pseud. for Arthur Bell), \"Gay Activists Alliance News and Other Events\" and \"The Morning of the Snake Pit: An Interview,\" _Gay Power_ , No. 13; \"Jumper's Condition Still Grave,\" _New York Post_ , March 10, 1970; and Philip McCarthy, \"Impaled, Saved by Fire 'Docs,' \" _Daily News_ , March 9, 1970. Salmieri's name is misspelled in the article \"500 Angry Homosexuals.\" Thanks to Frank Toscano, formerly of the Sixth Precinct, for verifying the spelling of the captain's name.\n\nFortunately, Vinales lived, despite the seriousness of his injuries.\n\n9. Martello, \"Raid Victim.\"\n\n10. Black, \"Boys in the Snake Pit.\"\n\n11. Scherker-Evans interview.\n\n12. Teal, _Gay Militants;_ Bell, _Dancing;_ \"Gay Activists Alliance News,\" _Gay Power_ , No. 16; and \"GAA Confronts Lindsay at Channel 5,\" _Gay_ 1 No. 14, May 11, 1970.\n\n13. Marotta, _Politics of Homosexuality_ , pp. 166\u201367.\n\n14. Rodwell-Scherker interview.\n\n15. \"Zapping with Carol: Hello Bella,\" _Gay Power_ 1, No. 18. International Gay Information Center Archives, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations.\n\n16. _Gay_ , \"5 Gay Activists Arrested in Sit-in,\" 1, No. 23, July 13, 1970.\n\n17. Franklin Kameny interview for _Stonewall: Myth, Magic and Mobilization_ , Public Radio International, 1994. While Kameny may exaggerate slightly here, consider that John Paul Hudson's _The Gay Insider, USA_ (New York: Stonehill Pub, 1972), published in 1972 (and very likely therefore reflecting the gay world of 1971), takes 627 pages to discuss gay places and groups in America. It lists, for example, merely under the category of gay \"Religious Organizations,\" eighty of them. It also lists 108 gay publications and 386 \"gay liberation\" groups. See also Marotta, _Politics of Homosexuality_ , pp. 322, 324\u201325; Teal, _Gay Militants_ , pp. 196, 205, 310; and D'Emilio, _Sexual Politics_ , p. 238.\n\n18. E-mail from Dick Leitsch to author, October 29, 2003.\n\n19. On the date of the Stonewall's closing, see Carl Lee, \"It's What's Happening,\" p. 2 (this closing date is corroborated by the \"Bar Beat\" column in _Gay Power_ 1, No. 3); Shaheen-Duberman interview.\n\n20. On the march's doubling in size each year, see Craig Rodwell's \"Gay and Free,\" _QQ Magazine_ , December 1971; on gay bars opposing the commemorations of the Stonewall Riots, see Craig Rodwell quoted in Arthur Bell, \"Hostility Comes Out of the Closet,\" _Village Voice_ , June 28, 1973, pp. 1, 16, 18; on Murphy's founding of the Christopher Street Festival Committee, see February 12, 1993, open letter from Randy Wicker to members of Community Board 2; on Murphy's funeral and last place of employment, see \"A Call About Ed Murphy,\" _New York Native_ , February 20, 1989; for Murphy quoted in a prominent gay publication see Glenn Person, \"CS People,\" _Christopher Street_ , Issue 66, pp. 10\u201311; on Wicker's attempt to displace Murphy's associates from the festival, see J. Pederzane, \"Charges of Skimming Roil '92 Christopher Street Festival,\" _NYT_ , June 26, 1992.\n\n21. Rodwell-Scherker interview.\n\n22. Jonathan Black, \"A Happy Birthday for Gay Liberation,\" _Village Voice_ , July 2, 1970, pp. 1, 58.\n\n23. Tobin, _Gay Crusaders_ , p. 134.\n\n24. Bell, _Dancing;_ Teal, _Gay Militants;_ Duberman, _Stonewall;_ Lacey Fosburgh, \"Thousands of Homosexuals Hold a Protest Rally in Central Park,\" _NYT_ , June 29, 1970; Black, \"Happy Birthday\"; Rodwell-Scherker interview; Agostino-Carter interview; and Leo Skir, \"Notes from the Underground\u2014The Road That Is Known,\" _Evergreen Review_ , September 1970, pp. 16, 20, 74\u201377.\n\n## C O N C L U S I O N S\n\n1. I am indebted to John O'Brien for making this point to me.\n\n2. For the effect of high temperatures on behavior, see Emma Brockes and Oliver Burkeman, \"Blame It on the Sunshine,\" _The Guardian_ , May 30, 2001, as well as the report of the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders. Note that the fighting at Compton's Cafeteria also occurred during hot weather. Rodwell also cited the weather as a factor: \"I immediately knew that this was the spark we had been waiting for for years. It's hard to explain. It has to do with the weather and the time of the day and the week and who's around and circumstances, whatever.\" Rodwell-Duberman interview.\n\n3. It seems possible that at least one of the other journalists who initially covered the event may have also come from the Lion's Head, for the _Daily News_ account features a photograph by Joseph Ambrosini, a freelance photographer. The picture was taken at the very beginning of the outbreak from _behind_ police lines at a time when the police were trying to keep people away from the Stonewall Inn. Was Ambrosini also in the Lion's Den and did he call the newspaper to alert them to the story?\n\n4. See, e.g., D'Emilio, _Sexual Politics_ , and Marcus, _Making History_. Given the several parallels, it is worth asking whether the interest Bob Kohler took in the homeless gay youths a couple of months before the riots played any part in their willingness to fight.\n\n5. Scherker-Rodwell interview.\n\n6. Spencer, \"Too much my dear.\"\n\n7. \"D.D.'s New York,\" _NYMN_ , August 1969.\n\n8. Burke, \"New Homosexuality.\"\n\n9. Russo, \"I Remember Stonewall.\"\n\n10. Charles Kaiser suggested to the author that Storm\u00e9 DeLarverie (see _The Gay Metropolis: 1940\u20131996_ [Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997], p. 198) was this woman, but she could not have been. To cite only a few of the problems with this thesis, DeLarverie's story is one of escaping the police, not of being taken into custody by them, and she has claimed that on that night she was outside the bar, \"quiet, I didn't say a word to anybody, I was just trying to see what was happening,\" when a policeman, without provocation, hit her in the eye (\"Stonewall 1969: A Symposium,\" June 20, 1997, New York City). DeLarverie is also an African-American woman, and all the witnesses interviewed by the author describe the woman as Caucasian. Finally, there has been much speculation about who this woman could have been if a lesbian did play a key role. Storm\u00e9 was well known in the local lesbian community at the time of the riots and has remained so ever since, and it is highly improbable that this woman who was seen by hundreds of people could have been a person of note in the community, else she would have been identified at the time or shortly thereafter.\n\n11. It is remarkable\u2014and no doubt inevitable given human psychology\u2014that in the popular imagination the number of transvestites at the riots is always exaggerated. Readers will note that in the McDarrah photos of the riots there is one transgendered person and none of the persons I interviewed, some of whom knew her, ever saw her actively involved in the riots. (Note that the McDarrah photographs, which do feature the street youths, were taken late on Saturday night during one of the lulls in rioting, when nothing in particular was happening. Truscott-Carter interview.) The Ambrosini photo does not show a single transvestite. Craig Rodwell told researcher Michael Scherker that \"one of the myths about Stonewall is it was all drag queens. I mean, drag queens are part of what went on. Certainly one of the most courageous, but there were maybe twelve drag queens... in thousands of people.\" Scherker-Roadwell interview.\n\n12. Stavis-Murphy interview.\n\n13. Manford 1972.\n\n14. David Isay, _Holding On_ (New York: W. W. Norton, 1996); letter from Nancy LaMarr, _Transgender Tapestry_ , issue 80; Fall 1997, pp. 9\u201310.\n\n15. \"Testimony of Dick Leitsch\/Executive Director Mattachine Society Inc. of New York\/ Hearings on Homosexuality\/New York State Assembly\/January 7, 1971,\" p. 8, Leitsch papers. The same news was noted in two gay publications in March 1970: \"Wall Street Purge Causes Job Losses,\" _Gay_ 1, No. 8, March 15, 1970, p. 3, and \"Wall Street Purge,\" _NYMN_ , March 1970, pp. 7\u20138. The latter article states that a \"rash of thefts of negotiated stocks and bonds from banks and securities brokers\" led Attorney General Louis Lefkowitz to decree that \"all employees in the financial district must be fingerprinted. This was because of a reputed Mafia connection with the thefts.\" The mention of a \"Mafia connection\" is further corroboration of Pine. See also \"361 Arrest Records Uncovered by Wall Street Fingerprinting,\" _NYT_ , February 5, 1970.\n\n16. This history is given in the PBS series _New York City: A Documentary History_.\n\n17. Gene Heil, \"Where It Was,\" _Where It's At_ , July 15, 1974, pp. 30\u201331. International Gay Information Center Archives, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations.\n\n18. Morty Manford, letter to the editor, _Where It's At_ , July 21, 1974, Morty Manford Papers, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations.\n\n# B I B L I O G R A P H Y\n\nAdair, Nancy, and Casey Adair, _Word Is Out: Stories of Some of Our Lives_. San Francisco: New Glide Publications, 1978.\n\n_Advocate_. \"Stonewall 'Historic'?\" (August 15, 1973): 16.\n\nAlwood, Edward _. Straight News: Gays, Lesbians, and the News Media_. New York: Columbia University Press, 1996.\n\nBeard, Harry. \"I Was There... the Stonewall Riot.\" _New York Gay Press_ (1:1; July 1980): 5.\n\nBeard, Rick, and Leslie Cohen Berlowitz, editors, _Greenwich Village: Culture and Counterculture_. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1993.\n\nBell, Arthur. _Dancing the Gay Lib Blues: A Year in the Homosexual Liberation Movement_. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1971.\n\n___ [pseudonym Arthur Irving]. \"Gay Activists Alliance News and Other Events.\" _Gay Power_ (No. 13): 4.\n\n___ [pseudonym Arthur Irving]. \"The Morning of the Snake Pit: An Interview.\" _Gay Power_ (No. 13): 5.\n\n___ [pseudonym Arthur Irving]. \"Gay Activists Alliance News.\" _Gay Power_ (No. 16).\n\n___ [pseudonym Arthur Irving]. \"Zapping with Carol: Hello, Bella.\" _Gay Power_ (No. 18): 4.\n\n___. \"Skull Murphy: The Gay Double Agent.\" _Village Voice_ (May 8, 1978): 1, 17\u201319.\n\n_Berkeley Barb_. \"Gay Rebel Gets Shafted by Uptight Boss\" (April 11, 1969): 11.\n\n___. \"Pink Panthers Gay Revolution Toughening Up\" (April 18\u201324, 1969): 11.\n\n___. \"Gay Strike Hits Southern Front\" (May 2\u20138, 1969): 11.\n\n___. \"Gay Strike Turns Grim\" (April 25\u2013May 1, 1969): 7.\n\n___. \"Group Will Act\" (May 2\u20138, 1969): 11.\n\nBird, David. \"Trees in a Queens Park Cut Down As Vigilantes Harass Homosexuals.\" _New York Times_ (July 1, 1969).\n\nBlack, Jonathan. \"Gay Power Hits Back.\" _Village Voice_ (July 31, 1969): 1, 3.\n\n___. \"The Boys in the Snake Pit: Games 'Straights' Play.\" _Village Voice_ (March 19, 1970): 1, 61\u201364.\n\n___. \"A Happy Birthday for Gay Liberation.\" _Village Voice_ (July 2, 1970): 1, 58.\n\nBragg, Rick. \"From Night of Rage, Seeds of Liberation.\" _New York Times_ (June 23, 1994).\n\nBrockes, Emma, and Oliver Burkeman. \"Blame It on the Sunshine.\" _Guardian_ (May 30, 2001).\n\nBrown, Howard, M.D. _Familiar Faces, Hidden Lives: The Story of Homosexual Men in America Today_. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1976.\n\nBrown, Mike, Michael Tallman, and Leo Louis Martello. \"The Summer of Gay Power and the _Village Voice_ Exposed!\" _Come Out!_ (1:1; November 14, 1969): 10\u201311.\n\nBurke, Tom. \"The New Homosexuality.\" _Esquire_ (December 1969): 178, 304\u201318.\n\nChari, A. C. S., compiler and publisher. _84 Questions and Answers on Avatar Meher Baba_. India: 1969.\n\nChauncey, George. _Gay New York: Gender, Urban Culture, and the Making of the Gay Male World, 1890\u20131940_. New York: Basic Books, 1994.\n\n_Chicago Sun-Times_. \"Grab City Cop as Sex-Blackmail Kingpin\" (June 25, 1966).\n\n[Clark,] Lige, and Jack [Nichols]. \"New York Notes.\" _Los Angeles Advocate_ (April 1969): 22.\n\n___. \"Pampered Perverts.\" _Screw_ (July 25, 1969): 16. (The title of the article, \"Pampered Perverts,\" was chosen by Al Goldstein, the publisher of _Screw_. This article was printed in the Homosexual Citizen column of _Screw_ , a forum created by Goldstein. While Nichols and Clark were the sole authors of the articles for this column, they had no control over the title Goldstein assigned to each issue's column.)\n\n___. \"Remember the Stonewall!\" _Gay_ (No. 21; June 29, 1970): 5.\n\nColbert, Alison. \"A Talk with Allen Ginsberg.\" _Partisan_ _Review_ (38:3; 1971): 289\u2013309; reprinted in Allen Ginsberg, _Spontaneous Mind: Selected Interviews 1958\u20131996_ , edited by David Carter.\n\nCrosby, Tina. \"The Stonewall Riot Remembered.\" Lesbian Herstory Archives of the Lesbian Herstory Educational Foundation, Inc.\n\n_Cruise News and World Report_. \"Young Rejects Form Own Organization\" (2:7; July 1966): 1.\n\n___. \"Young Homos Picket Compton's Restaurant _\"_ (2:8; August 1966): 1 and continued.\n\nCunningham, Barry. _Gay Power: The Homosexual Revolt_. New York: Tower Publications, 1971.\n\n_Daily News_ \"Gets 5 Years in Extortion of Homos\" (August 17, 1966).\n\n___. \"Lands at JFK, FBI Is There\" (September 18, 1966).\n\n___ (Sunday Edition). \"3 Cops Hurt As Bar Raid Riles Crowd\" (June 29, 1969).\n\nD'Arcangelo, Angelo (Josef Busch). _The Homosexual Handbook_. New York: Ophelia Press, 1968.\n\nDavy, Kitty. \"Baba's First World Tour, 1932, Part II.\" _Awakener_ (12:3; Summer 1968): 1\u201321.\n\nD'Emilio, John. _Sexual Politics, Sexual Communities: The Making of a Homosexual Minority in the United States_. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983.\n\nDi Brienza, Ronnie. \"Stonewall Incident.\" _East Village Other_ (4:32; July 9, 1969): 2.\n\nDolan, Bob. \"When the Law Reaches into Your Pocket.\" _Pageant_ 23:2; (August 1967): 40-46.\n\nDuberman, Martin. _Stonewall_. New York: Dutton, 1993.\n\nEskow, Dennis. \"3 Cops Hurt As Bar Raid Riles Crowd.\" _New York Daily News_ (June 29, 1969).\n\nEskridge, William N., Jr. _Gay Law: Challenging the Apartheid of the Closet_. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1999.\n\nEsselourne, Frank. \"Doorman Remembers.\" _Gay Community News (_ June 23, 1979): 10.\n\nFederation to Preserve the Greenwich Village Waterfront and Great Port. www.villagewaterfront.org.\n\nFisher, Peter _. The Gay Mystique: The Myth and Reality of Male Homosexuality_. New York: Stein and Day, 1972.\n\nFosburgh, Lacey. \"Thousands of Homosexuals Hold a Protest Rally in Central Park.\" _New York Times_ (June 29, 1970).\n\n_GAA Reunion_ (1:6; December 3, 1994): 4.\n\n_Gay_. \"Wall Street Purge Causes Job Losses\" (No. 8; March 15, 1970): 3.\n\n___. \"The Snake Pit Raid\" (1:10; April 13, 1970): 2.\n\n___. \"500 Angry Homosexuals Protest Raid\" (1:10; April 13, 1970): 3.\n\n___. \"Patrons Tell of Raid from Inside\" (1:10; April 13, 1970): 3.\n\n___. \"Responsible Cop Cops Out\" (1:10; April 13, 1970): 10.\n\n___. \"GAA Confronts Lindsay at Channel 5\" (No. 14; May 11, 1970): 3.\n\n___. \"5 Gay Activists Arrested in Sit-In\" (No. 23; July 13, 1970): 3.\n\n_Gay Activist_. \"The Night They Raided Stonewall\" (1:3; June 1971): 4.\n\n_Gay Power_. \"Bar Beat\" (1:3): 7, 18.\n\nGinsberg, Allen. Interview by Allen Young. _Gay Sunshine_ (No. 16; January\u2013February 1973): 1, 4\u201310.\n\n___. _Spontaneous Mind: Selected Interviews 1958\u20131996_ , edited by David Carter. New York: HarperCollins, 2001.\n\n_The Greenwich Village Historic District Designation Report_ , 2 volumes. New York: New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission, 1969.\n\nGrutzner, Charles. \"Mafia Buys Clubs for Homosexuals.\" _New York Times_ (November 30, 1967).\n\nHaines, Steve. \"Killer Cops at Large.\" _Berkeley Barb_ (April 25\u2013May 1, 1969): 7.\n\nHarrington, Stephanie. \"Public Meeting on MacD.: Pirandello Writes Script,\" _Village Voice_ (April 7, 1966): 1, 24\u201325, 28.\n\nHeide, Robert, and John Gilman. _Greenwich Village: A Primo Guide to Shopping, Eating, and Making Merry in True Bohemia_. New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 1995.\n\nHeil, Gene. \"Where It Was.\" _Where It's At_ (July 15, 1974): 30\u201331.\n\n_Herald Tribune_. \"17 Indicted in Hush-Money Shakedown\" (1966: undated clipping): n.p.\n\n\"History of Christopher Street: How It All Began!\" [San Francisco] _Gay Pride_ [program] (June 25, 1972).\n\nHoglund, John. \"Eddie Murphy\u2014From Hellion to Hero.\" Part 1. _Private Lives_ (2:6; December 1987): 30, 32.\n\n___. \"Obituaries: Edward F. Murphy.\" _New York Native_ (March 27, 1989): 9.\n\nHudson, John Paul. _The Gay Insider, USA_. New York: Stonehill Pub., 1972.\n\nHuff, Bobbie. \"N.Y. Po-Lice Scream at Queens.\" _Magpie_ (August 1969): 14.\n\nIsay, David. _Holding On_. New York: W. W. Norton, 1996.\n\nJackson, Don. \"Reflections on the N.Y. Riots.\" _Los Angeles Advocate_ (October 1969): 11.\n\nJackson, Kenneth T., editor. _The Encyclopedia of New York City_. New Haven: Yale University Press; New York: New-York Historical Society, 1995.\n\nJay, Karla, and Allen Young, editors. _Out of the Closets: Voices of Gay Liberation_. New York: Douglas Book Corp., 1972.\n\nJohnson, David K. \"Homosexual Citizens: Washington's Gay Community Confronts the Civil Service.\" _Washington History_ (Fall\/Winter 1994\u201395): 44\u201363.\n\nKaiser, Charles. _The Gay Metropolis: 1940\u20131996_. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997.\n\nKarlen, Arno. _Sexuality and Homosexuality: A New View_. New York: W. W. Norton, 1971.\n\nKatz, Jonathan. _Gay American History: Lesbians and Gay Men in the U.S.A.: A Documentary_. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1976.\n\n___. _Gay\/Lesbian Almanac: A New Documentary_. New York: Harper and Row, 1983.\n\nKatz, Leonard, and Norman Poirier. \"Blackmailer of Deviates Gets 5 Years.\" _New York Post_ (August 16, 1966).\n\nKepner, Jim. \"Our Movement Before Stonewall\" (booklet printed by Kepner). October 1989; revised 1994.\n\nKnight, Hans. \"'Other Society' Moves into the Open.\" [Philadelphia] _Sunday Bulletin_ (July 19, 1970).\n\nKohler, Bob. \"Where Have All the Flowers Gone.\" _Come Out!_ (1:2; January 10, 1970): 14.\n\n_The Ladder_. \"Gay Power in New York City.\" (October\u2013November 1969): 40.\n\nLaMarr, Nancy. \"Transcriptions.\" _Transgender Tapestry_ (Issue 80; Fall 1997): 9\u201310.\n\nLaurence, Leo E. \"Gay Revolution.\" _Vector_ (April 1969): 11, 25.\n\n___. \"Gays Get Tougher.\" _Berkeley Barb_ (May 23\u201329, 1969): 31.\n\n___. \"Gays Hit N.Y. Cops.\" _Berkeley Barb_ (July 4\u201310, 1969): 5.\n\nLauritsen, John. \"The First Gay Liberation Front Demonstration.\" _New York Native_ (June 26, 1989): 20.\n\nLee, Carl. \"It's What's Happening.\" _New York Hymnal_ (1:5; June\u2013July 1968): 2.\n\n___. \"It's What's Happening.\" _New York Hymnal_ (1:6; August\u2013September 1968): 2.\n\n___. \"It's What's Happening.\" _New York Hymnal_ (2:1; January 1970): 2.\n\nLeitsch, Dick. \"Cop Kills Two\u2014May Go Free.\" _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ (March 1969): 1\u20132.\n\n___. \"Coming Mayoralty Contest.\" _New York_ _Mattachine Newsletter_ (May 1969): 1\u20132. (Not signed.)\n\n___. \"The Hairpin Drop Heard Around the World.\" _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ (July 1969): 21\u201323.\n\n___. \"Gay Riots in the Village.\" _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ (August 1969): 1\u20133.\n\n___. \"The Stonewall Riots[:] The Gay View.\" _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ (August 1969): 13\u201314.\n\n___. \"The Stonewall Riots[:] The Police Story.\" _New York Mattachine Newsletter_ (August 1969): 5\u20136.\n\n___. \"Police Raid on N.Y. Club Sets Off First Gay Riot.\" _Los Angeles Advocate_ (September 1969): 3, 11.\n\n___. \"The Snake Pit Raid: Some Afterthoughts.\" _Gay_ (1:10; April 13, 1970): 13.\n\n___. \"Politicians Make Strange Bedfellows!\" _Gay (_ May 25, 1970).\n\nLiscoe, Kevin. \"Letters to the Editor.\" _Village Voice_ (July 10, 1969): 4.\n\nLong, Mike. \"Stonewall: The Night the Girls Said No!\" _San Francisco Sentinel_ (June 22, 1989): 3\u20134.\n\nLustbader, Ken. \"Landscape of Liberation: Preserving Gay and Lesbian History in Greenwich Village.\" Master's thesis, Columbia University, 1993.\n\nManford, Morty. \"A Comparative Study of Gay Liberationists and Columbia Homosexuals.\" Student paper, Columbia University, 1972.\n\n___. \"The New York Gay Political Movement, 1978: An Organizational and Strategy Critique.\" Student paper, Columbia University, 1978.\n\n___. \"Why We Should Postpone New York's Gay Rights Bill: A New Look at Gay Political Strategy.\" _Gaysweek_ (October 16, 1978): 10\u201316.\n\n\"Marat, Jean-Paul.\" \"On Prejudice.\" _V_ (1:2; October 1966): 1.\n\nMarcus, Eric. _Making History: The Struggle for Gay and Lesbian Equal Rights, 1945_ \u2013 _1990: An Oral History_. New York: HarperCollins, 1992.\n\nMarie, Barbara Judith. \"Stonewall Remembered Book 1,\" www.inch.com\/~kdka\/stonewall.htm.\n\nMarotta, Toby. _The Politics of Homosexuality_. Boston: Houghton-Mifflin, 1981.\n\nMartello, Leo Louis. \"Raid Victim Impaled on Fence.\" _Los Angeles Advocate_ (4:5, April 29\u2013May 12, 1970): 1, 6.\n\nMcCarthy, Philip. \"Impaled, Saved by Fire 'Docs'.\" _Daily font_ (March 9, 1970).\n\nMcDarrah, Fred W., and Timothy S. McDarrah. _Gay Pride: Photographs from Stonewall to Today_. New York: A Cappella Books, 1994.\n\nMcGarry, Molly, and Fred Wasserman. _Becoming Visible: An Illustrated History of Twentieth-Century Gay Life in America_. New York: New York Public Library, 1998.\n\nMcGowan, William. \"Before Stonewall.\" _Wall Street Journal_ (June 16, 2000).\n\nMiles, Barry. \"The Beat Generation in the Village.\" In Beard and Berlowitz, _Greenwich Village: Culture and Counterculture_. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1993.\n\nMiller, Terry. _Greenwich Village and How It Got That Way_. New York: Crown, 1990.\n\nMorgan, Bill. _The Beat Generation in New York: A Walking Tour of Jack Kerouac's City_. San Francisco: City Lights, 1997.\n\nMorty Manford Papers, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox, and Tilden Foundation.\n\nMurphy, Ed. \"1969 at Stonewall.\" _Equal Times_ , 1989 Gay Pride Commemorative Special Edition (1:10; June 1, 1989): 19.\n\n_National_ _Star Chronicle_. \"The World of the Homosexual.\" (undated clipping: third in a series of articles that began with 5:1; September 27, 1965).\n\nNewman, Andy. \"Death of a Drag Queen.\" _The Hoboken Reporter_ (July 19, 1992).\n\n_Newsweek_. \"Minority Listening\" (July 30, 1962): 48.\n\n___. \"Policing the Third Sex\" (October 27, 1969): 81.\n\n_New York City Gay Scene Guide_ , vol. 1, no. 2. New York: Apollo Book Company, 1969.\n\n_New York Hymnal_. \"Signs of the Times\" (1:1; February 1968): 5.\n\n___. \"McCarthy Wins Poll\" (1:4; May 1968): 1,3.\n\n___. \"On Stage\" (1:5; June\u2013July 1968): 5\u20136.\n\n___. \"Gay Power Gains\" (1:6; August\u2013September 1968): 1, 9.\n\n_New York Journal-American_. \"Jack O'Brian Says\" (July 9, 1962).\n\n_New York Mattachine Newsletter_. \"Meeting on Village Cleanup\" (11:3; April 1966): 1\u20133.\n\n___. \" 'Drag' and the Laws\u2014and a Drag Ball\" (January\u2013February 1967): 5\u20137.\n\n___. \"Gay Bar Closed\" (March 1968): 5.\n\n___. \"More Police Harassment\" (February 1969): 14.\n\n___. \"Transit Cops Shake Down Wrong Man\" (February 1969): 14.\n\n___. \"Docks, Darkness, and Danger\" (March 1969): 3\u20134.\n\n___. \"Bathhouse Raided\" (April 1969): 1\u20132.\n\n___. \"Dock Killings\" (April 1969): 5.\n\n___. \"Your Friendly SLA\" (April 1969): 16.\n\n___. \"D.D.'s New York\" (August 1969): 18\u201319.\n\n_New York Native_. \"A Call About Ed Murphy\" (February 20, 1989): 10.\n\n_New York Post_. \"Cop Injured 5 Seized in Village\" (July 3, 1969).\n\n___. \"The Gay Anger Behind the Riots\" (July 8, 1969).\n\n___. \"Jumper's Condition Still Grave\" (March 10, 1970).\n\n___. \"No Place for Gaiety\" (June 28, 1969).\n\n_New York Times_. \"Police Are Added in Washington Sq.\" (October 5, 1964).\n\n___. \"'Village' Assured of Added Police\" (October 7, 1964).\n\n___. \"Detective at Hotel Is Held in Extortion\" (August 5, 1965).\n\n___. \"Garelick Urges Public to Report Police Trapping of Homosexuals\" (April 2, 1966).\n\n___. \"3 Deviates Invite Exclusion by Bars\" (April 22, 1966).\n\n___. \"S.L.A. Won't Act Against Bars Refusing Service to Deviates\" (April 26, 1966).\n\n___. \"Lindsay Placates Coffeehouse Set\" (May 3, 1966).\n\n___. \"3 Indicted Here as Sex Extorters\" (June 1, 1966).\n\n___. \"Detective Accused as a Top Extorter\" (July 1, 1966).\n\n___. \"Blackmailer Gets Five-Year Sentence in Homosexual Case\" (August 17, 1966).\n\n___. \"Blackmail Paid by Congressman\" (May 17, 1967).\n\n___. \"Ex-F.B.I. Agent Links State Liquor Aide to Mafia\" (November 30, 1967).\n\n___. \"2 Found Guilty in Chicago in Extortion of Homosexual\" (December 9, 1967).\n\n___. \"4 Policemen Hurt in 'Village' Raid\" (June 29, 1969).\n\n___. \"Police Again Rout 'Village' Youths\" (June 30, 1969).\n\n___. \"361 Arrest Records Uncovered by Wall Street Fingerprinting\" (February 5, 1970).\n\n___. \"Ku Klux Klan Says It Will Seek Permission for a Masked Rally in City\" (May 2, 2000).\n\nPederzane, J. \"Charges of Skimming Roil '92 Christopher Street Festival.\" _New York Times_ (June 26, 1992).\n\nPerson, Glenn. \"CS People: Ed Murphy.\" _Christopher Street_ (Issue 66; July 1982): 10.\n\n_Queen's Quarterly_. \"Dawn Is Just Breaking...\" (1:3; Summer 1969): 5.\n\nRamirez, Raul. \"I Remember Stonewall.\" _San Francisco Examiner_ (June 4, 1989).\n\nRanzal, Edward. \"Member of 70-Man Ring Preying on Homosexuals Given 5 Years.\" _New York Times (_ July 12, 1967).\n\n_Rat_. \"Queen Power: Fags Against Pigs in Stonewall Bust\" (2:14; July 9\u201323, 1969): 6.\n\n___. \"From Outside the Pen\" (2:15; \"late July 1969\"): 4.\n\n___. \"Gay Revolution Comes Out\" (August 12\u201316, 1969).\n\n_The Realist_. August 1962, September 1962, October 1962.\n\nReid, Lori. _The Complete Book of Chinese Horoscopes_. Shaftesbury, Dorset; Rockport, Mass.: Barnes and Noble Books, 1997.\n\nRodwell, Craig. \"Mafia on the Spot.\" _New York Hymnal_ (1:1; February 1968): 1\u20132. (Not signed.)\n\n___. \"Gay Power Gains.\" _New York Hymnal_ (1:6; August\u2013September 1968): 1, 9.\n\n___. \"Gay Is Good.\" _Queen's Quarterly_ (Summer 1969): 39.\n\n___. \"Gay Holiday.\" _New York Hymnal_ (2:1, January 1970): 8. (Not signed.)\n\n___. \"Gay and Free.\" _QQ Magazine_ (3:6; December 1971): 22\u201327.\n\nRosen, Steven A. \"Police Harassment of Homosexual Women and Men in New York City 1960\u20131980.\" _Columbia Human Rights Law Review_ (12; 1980\u20131981): 159\u2013190.\n\nRoth, Jack. \"Nine Seized Here in Extortion Ring.\" _New York Times_ (February 18, 1966).\n\n___. \"Nationwide Ring Preying on Prominent Deviates.\" _New York Times_ (March 3, 1966).\n\nRusso, Vito. \"I Remember Stonewall.\" _Soho Weekly News_ (6:38; June 21\u201327, 1979): 12\u201313, 22. (The same article was published, slightly edited, as \"Still Outlaws.\" _Gay News_ [No. 170]: 16\u201317.)\n\nSante, Luc. _Low Life: Lures and Snares of Old New York_. New York: Farrar Straus Giroux, 1991.\n\nSchlager, Neil, editor. _Gay and Lesbian Almanac_. New York: St. James Press, 1998.\n\nScott, David C. \"My Autobiography.\" Student paper, New College of California, 1983.\n\nScott, Kimberly. \"Stonewall's Aftermath Spurred D.C. Successes.\" _Washington Blade_ (May 25, 1994).\n\nSears, James T. _Lonely Hunters: An Oral History of Lesbian and Gay Southern Life, 1948_ \u2013 _1968_. Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1997.\n\nShilts, Randy. _The Mayor of Castro Street: The Life and Times of Harvey Milk_. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1982.\n\nSkir, Leo. \"Notes from the Underground\u2014The Road That Is Known.\" _Evergreen Review_ (September 1970): 16, 20, 74\u201377.\n\nSmilon, Marvin. \"More Indictments Due in Blackmail Case.\" _New York Post_ (September 28, 1966).\n\nSmith, Howard. \"Full Moon over the Stonewall.\" _Village Voice_ (July 3, 1969): 1, 25.\n\nSpencer, Walter Troy. \"Too Much, My Dear.\" _Village Voice_ (July 10, 1969): 36.\n\nTate, Laurence. \"Exiles of Sin, Incorporated.\" _Berkeley Barb_ (November 18, 1966): 5.\n\nTeal, Donn. _The_ _Gay Militants_. New York: Stein and Day, 1971.\n\nThomas, John. \"Letters to the Editor.\" _Village Voice_ (July 10, 1969): 4.\n\nThompson, Mark, editor. _Long Road to Freedom: The_ Advocate _History of the Gay and Lesbian Movement_. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1994.\n\nTilchen, Maida. \"Mythologizing Stonewall.\" _Gay Community News_ (June 23, 1979): 16.\n\nTimmons, Stuart. _The Trouble with Harry Hay_. Boston: Alyson, 1990.\n\nTobin, Kay, and Randy Wicker. _The Gay Crusaders_. New York: Paperback Library, 1972.\n\nTree. \"Beating Around the Bush.\" _Private Lives_ (September 1991): 86\u201388.\n\n___. \"Beating Around the Bush.\" _Private Lives_ (February 1992): 74\u201378.\n\n___. \"Beating Around the Bush.\" _Private Lives_ (January 1993): 100.\n\n___. \"Beating Around the Bush.\" _Private Lives_ (August 1993): 86\u201388.\n\n___. \"Beating Around the Bush.\" _Private Lives_ (December 1993): 84\u201385.\n\nTruscott, Lucian. \"Gay Power Comes to Sheridan Square.\" _Village Voice_ (July 3, 1969): 1, 18.\n\nVoeller, Bruce. \"Stonewall Anniversary: Assessing the Activist Years.\" _Advocate_ (July 12, 1979): 30.\n\nWakefield, Dan. \"The Gay Crusader.\" _Nugget_ (June 1963): 51\u201352, 71\u201372.\n\nWare, Caroline F. _Greenwich Village, 1920\u20131930: A Comment on American Civilization in the Post-War Years_. Boston: Houghton-Mifflin, 1935; reprint Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994.\n\nWatson, Steven. \"The Drag of Politics.\" _Village Voice_ (June 25, 1979): 72\u201373.\n\nWeinberg, Martin S., and Colin J. Williams. _Male Homosexuals: Their Problems and Adaptations_. New York: Oxford University Press, 1974.\n\nWeiss, Murray. \"J. Edgar's Slip Was Showing _.\" New York Post_ (February 11, 1993).\n\nWhite, Edmund. \"Letter to Ann and Alfred Corn.\" In David Bergman, editor, _The Violet Quill Reader: The Emergence of Gay Writing After Stonewall_ , 1\u20134. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1994.\n\nWicker, Randy. \"The Wicker Report\u2014It's Koch vs. DeSapio Again.\" _Eastern Mattachine Magazine_ (July 1965): 9\u201310.\n\nWilde, Oscar. _The Complete Letters of Oscar Wilde_ , edited by Merlin Holland and Rupert Hart-Davis. New York: Henry Holt, 2000.\n\nWittman, Carl. \"A Gay Manifesto.\" In Jay and Young, _Out of the Closets: Voices of Gay Liberation_ , 330\u2013342.\n\n# O R A L H I S T O R I E S\n\nThe following interviews were conducted by the author, unless a second name appears, indicating a different interviewer. The use of quotation marks around a name indicates a pseudonym.\n\nAgostino, Sam: Feb. 26, 1998.\n\nBabick, Christopher\u2014by Michael Scherker: Dec. 10, 1988.\n\nBeard, Harry\u2014by Michael Scherker: Aug. 3, 1988.\n\nBecker, Marle: Jul. 30, 1999.\n\nBockman, Philip: Aug. 14, 1999; July 13, 2001.\n\nBoyce, Martin: Sept. 17, 1998.\n\n\"Bruce\": Sept. 16, 1997.\n\nBryan, Robert: Sept. 3, 1999.\n\nBurch, Charles: Apr. 10, 1998.\n\nCallahan, Tim: Apr. 5, 2001.\n\nCastro, Raymond: Oct. 10, 1999.\n\nDunn, Kevin\u2014by Michael Scherker: June 5, 1989.\n\nEagles, Philip: Oct. 1, 1998; Aug. 21, 1999.\n\nEvans, Arthur: Dec. 16, 17, 2000; Oct. 13, 2002. Also interviewed by Michael Scherker: June 8, 1989.\n\nFader, Michael: Apr. 8, 1998.\n\nGabriel, Paul: Dec. 17, 2000.\n\nGalvin, Earl\u2014by Nikos Diaman: Dec. 7, 1992.\n\nGarvin, Danny: Feb. 12, Mar. 14, May 27, 1998; Sept. 29, Nov. 30, 1999. Also interviewed by Michael Scherker: Dec. 15, 1988.\n\nGinsberg, Allen\u2014by Obie Benz: Oct. 17, 1987.\n\nGittings, Barbara: Dec. 15, 2000. Also interviewed by Paul D. Cain: n.d.\n\nHampton, Dawn\u2014by Eric Marcus: Jan. 1994.\n\n\"Hardy,\" Jennifer: Sept. 1, 1997.\n\nHeide, Robert: Aug. 19, Sept. 21, 1999.\n\nHoose, Jerry: Mar. 5, 17, 1998; Aug. 23, 2001; Oct. 16, 17, 25, 2003.\n\nJoel S.: Jan. 5, 1998.\n\nKohler, Bob: Oct. 7, 17, 1997; Mar. 12, 24, 28, 1998; Apr. 5, 2003.\n\nKonnon, Michael: May 5, 1998.\n\nLanigan-Schmidt, Thomas: Mar. 13, 21, Dec. 12, 1998; Sept. 30, 2000; May 6, 2001; Jul. 21, 22, 2002; Aug. 4, 9, Oct. 18, 2003. Also interviewed by Martin Duberman: May 2, 1992.\n\nLeitsch, Dick: Dec. 9, 1997; Mar. 2, 1999; Jul. 21, 2001. Also interviewed by Eric Marcus: Jan. 23, 1989; \u2014by Eric Marcus: Jan. 1994; and by Paul Cain: Aug. 16, 1995.\n\nManford, Morty: Dec. 9, 1989\u2014by Eric Marcus.\n\n\"Mike,\" Stonewall Inn's porter: Mar. 2, 21, 1998.\n\nMurphy, Ed\u2014by Chris Davis: circa 1983; and by Gene Stavis: May 22, 1978.\n\nNichols, Jack: Oct. 4, 7, 8, 1996.\n\nO'Brien, John: Mar. 21, 1997; June 23, 30, Jul. 4, 1998.\n\nOlenick, Michael: Oct. 30, 1999.\n\nPerrin, Barry: Jul. 14, 1999.\n\nPine, Seymour: Sept. 18, Oct. 26, 28, Nov. 14, 1999; Aug. 12, 2000. Also interviewed by David Isay: ca. spring 1989.\n\nRanieri, John Paul: Mar. 17, 24, 30, 1998.\n\nRitter, \"Steve\"\/\"Maria\": Nov. 9, 1997; Apr. 19, 2000.\n\nRivera, Robert\u2014by Michael Scherker: June 10, 1989.\n\nRodwell, Craig\u2014by Breck Ardery: ca. spring 1970; by Michael Scherker: Oct. 9, Nov. 20, 1986; and by Martin Duberman: 1990, 1990, Nov. 14, 1990; and Jan. 25, 1991.\n\nRusso, Vito\u2014by Eric Marcus: Dec. 21, 1988.\n\nScott, David C.: Apr. 24, 1998; Jan. 26, 1999. Also interviewed by Michael Scherker: June 10, 1989.\n\nShaheen, Chuck\u2014by Martin Duberman: Nov. 20, 1991.\n\nShelley, Martha: Dec. 14, 2000. Also interviewed by Michael Scherker: June 5, 1989.\n\nShenton, Bruce: Aug. 31, 1999.\n\nSmith, Howard: Feb. 2, 1998.\n\nStryker, Susan: Dec. 15, 2000.\n\nTish: Jan. 15, Mar. 10, 1998.\n\nTree: Sept. 16, 1997.\n\nTruscott, Lucian K.: Mar. 17, 1997.\n\nvan Cline, Stephen: Apr. 21, 1996; Apr. 18, 1997.\n\nVan Ronk, Dave: Sept. 8, 1997.\n\nWhite, Edmund: Sept. 10, 1997.\n\nWicker, Randy: Nov. 13, 1997; Jul. 6, 2001. Also interviewed by Michael Scherker: Aug. 8, 1988.\n\nWilson, Doric: Aug. 22, Sept. 4, 1999.\n\nWynkoop, William: Nov. 29, 1997.\n\nYates, Steve: Oct. 8, 1996.\n\n# C R E D I T S F O R T H E  \nP H O T O G R A P H S\n\nThe author gratefully acknowledges the following sources for the material reprinted in the photo section:\n\nPhoto Section pages:\n\n2 (top) reprinted courtesy of Milstein Division of United States History, Local History & Genealogy, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations.\n\n2 (bottom) reprinted courtesy of Tree.\n\n3 (top), 5 (middle) reprinted courtesy of Fred W. McDarrah.\n\n3 (bottom), 7 (bottom) reprinted courtesy of Kay Tobin Lahusen.\n\n4, 5 (bottom) reprinted courtesy of Diana Davies Collection, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations.\n\n5 (top) reprinted courtesy of Thomas Lanigan-Schmidt.\n\n6 (top), 7 (top), 8 (middle) reprinted courtesy of Fred N. Orlansky.\n\n6 (bottom) reprinted courtesy of New York Daily News, L.P. Reprinted with permission.\n\n8 (top) taken from \"Gay Freedom 1970,\" reproduced by permission of Queen's Quarterly Publishing Co., Inc.\n\n# I N D E X\n\nThe index that appeared in the print version of this title was intentionally removed from the eBook. Please use the search function on your eReading device to search for terms of interest. For your reference, the terms that appear in the print index are listed below.\n\nAbbott, Berenice\n\n_Advocate_ magazine\n\nage of Aquarius\n\nAgostino, Sam\n\nAlbee, Edward\n\nAlbert (hotel)\n\nAlcohol and Beverage Control Department (California)\n\naction against\n\nAlcoholic Beverage Control (ABC) Law\n\nAlexander, Brandy\n\nAll-State Caf\u00e9 (dance bar)\n\nAllison, John\n\nAlternate U.\n\nalternative schools\n\nAmbrosini, Joseph\n\nAmram, David\n\nAmsel, Bob\n\n_And He Made a Her_ (Wilson)\n\nAnnual Reminder (Independence Hall\/Philadelphia); dress and behavior code\n\n_Anti-Slavery Standard_\n\nAronowitz, Al\n\nAronowitz, Stanley\n\nArtie's (bar)\n\nAurelio, Richard\n\nBabick, Chris\n\nand the Stonewall Riots\n\nBaldwin, James\n\nBali (bar)\n\n\"Ballad of the Sad Young Men, The,\"\n\nBallard, Ron\n\nBambi (street queen)\n\nbar culture (East Coast)\n\nextortion and blackmail\n\ngay bars, legalizing\n\nhomophile movement and\n\nkidnapping and murder, suspicion of\n\nMafia involvement with\n\nnumber of bars in the 1950s\n\nand payoffs\n\npolice and bar cooperation\n\nraids and closings\n\nbar culture (West Coast)\n\nand payoffs\n\nTavern Guild (San Francisco)\n\nbars (East Coast)\n\nAll-State Caf\u00e9\n\nArtie's\n\nBali\n\nCheckerboard\n\nbars (East Coast) _(continued)_\n\nCherry Lane\n\nCork Club\n\nDanny's\n\nDirty Dick's\n\n415 (club)\n\nJulius'\n\nKeller's\n\nLenny's Hideaway\n\nMais Oui\n\nMilano's\n\nMoss Bar\n\nMystique\n\nOmega\n\nPink Elephant\n\nSans Souci\n\n17 Barrow Street\n\nSewer\n\nSnake Pit, The\n\nTel-Star\n\nTerrace\n\nZodiac\n\n_See also_ State Liquor Authority; Stonewall Inn\n\nbathhouses\n\nBeard, Harry\n\nBeat subculture\n\nBecker, Marle\n\nBell, Arthur\n\nand GAA\n\n_Gay Power_ column\n\nand GLF\n\n_Berkeley Barb_\n\nBilly (a.k.a. Miss Billy) (street queen)\n\nBird, Joan\n\nBlack Panthers, homophobia of\n\nblackmail. _See_ extortion\n\nBlake, William\n\nBlick, Roy\n\nBlond Frankie\n\nBob (Chris Babick's boyfriend)\n\nBockman, Philip\n\nBonnie's Stone Wall (Bonnie's Stonewall Inn)\n\n_See also_ Stonewall Inn\n\nBooth, William\n\nBoyce, Martin\n\n_Boys in the Band, The_ , (Crowley)\n\nBrew, Kevin\n\nBroadway Central (hotel)\n\nBrown, Howard\n\nBrown, Michael\n\nand GLF\n\nBrown, Willie\n\nBryan, Robert\n\nBurch, Charles\n\nBureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms\n\nand the Stonewall Inn raid\n\nBurke, Tom\n\nBurton, John\n\nCalifornia\n\nhomosexuals, laws restricting\n\nCalifornia Hall\n\nCRH New Year's Eve ball, police raid of\n\nCallahan, Tim\n\ncamp and street slang\n\nCanada\n\nhomosexual acts, legalizing of\n\nCasteel, Tom\n\ncastration\n\nas punishment for homosexuality\n\nCastro, Raymond\n\narrest of\n\nCentral City Citizens Council (CCCC)\n\nCentral City Poverty Program\n\nCervantes, Madolin\n\nCharlie (Danny Garvin's friend)\n\nChauncey, George\n\nCheckerboard (bar)\n\nCherry Lane bar\n\nChing, Tamara\n\nChristopher Park (Sheridan Square)\n\nstreet kids and\n\nChristopher Street\n\nThe Corner (Greenwich Ave. and Christopher St.)\n\nhistory of\n\nPATH station\n\nStonewall Riots, blocking the day after\n\nChristopher Street Festival Committee\n\nChristopher Street Liberation Day (CSLD)\n\nfirst march\n\ngay movement support of\n\nGay-In (Sheep Meadow, Central Park)\n\nChurch, William\n\nentrapment and suicide of\n\nChurch of the Holy Apostles\n\nCivil Service Commission (CSC)\n\nhomophobia of\n\nand homosexual employment\n\nClarke, Lige\n\nCollin ((Craig Rodwell's roommate)\n\nColumbia University uprisings\n\n_Come Out!_ (GLF newspaper)\n\nCommando Queens (gang of street kids)\n\nCommittee for Homosexual Freedom (CHF)\n\nCompton Cafeteria (San Francisco) riot\n\nCongo Woman (street queen)\n\nconsciousness-raising\n\nContinental Baths\n\nConvoy, Kenneth\n\nCooke, Michael\n\nCork Club (bar)\n\nCorner, The (Greenwich Ave. & Christopher St.)\n\n_Coronet_ magazine\n\nCouncil on Religion and the Homosexual (CRH)\n\nNew Year's Eve ball police raid\n\ncounterculture\n\nalternative schools\n\nCrazies\n\ngay communes\n\nCraig (gay commune member)\n\nCriswell\n\nCrosby, Tina\n\nCross-eyed Sylvia (street queen)\n\ncrossdresser as a term\n\nCuba (and homosexuals)\n\nconcentration camps for\n\nlaws restricting\n\ncummings, e. e.\n\nD'Emilio, John\n\nDaley, Richard\n\nDanny's (bar)\n\nDaughters of Bilitis (DOB)\n\nDefense Department\n\nhomosexuals, exclusion of\n\nDeLarverie, Storm\u00e9\n\nDelgado, Tano\n\nDemocratic Convention (Chicago)\n\nprotests at\n\nDenaro, Frank\n\nDepartment of Consumer Affairs\n\nand the Stonewall Inn raid\n\nDerrick (Dick Leitsch's lover)\n\nDesiree (drag queen)\n\nDi Brienza, Ronnie\n\nStonewall Inn, Tuesday raid\n\nStonewall Riots\n\nDiaman, Nikos\n\nDirty Dick's (bar)\n\nDoerr, Tom\n\nDontzin, Michael\n\ndrag queen as a term\n\ndropping dimes\n\ndrugs\n\nat the Stonewall Inn\n\nand street kids\n\nDuberman, Martin\n\nDunn, Kevin\n\nDurham, Louis\n\nDylan, Bob\n\nEagles, Philip\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\nEarl (hotel)\n\nEast Germany and homosexuals\n\n_East Village Other_\n\n_Eastern Mattachine Magazine_\n\nEastern Regional Conference of Homophile Organizations (ERCHO)\n\nEden, Barbara (drag queen)\n\neffeminate men\n\ncourage of during Stonewall Riots\n\nEgan, Robert\n\nEighth Street Bookshop\n\n82 Club (nightclub)\n\nEisenhower, Dwight David\n\nElectric Circus\n\nQueens tree replacement benefit\n\nelectrical shock therapy\n\nas punishment for homosexuality\n\n11 Christopher Street\n\nElman, Dick\n\nentrapment\n\nand death\n\nJudson Church meeting (1966)\n\nJohn Lindsay and\n\npolitical campaigns and\n\nTransit Police and\n\n_Escapade_ magazine\n\nEskridge, William N., Jr.\n\n_Esquire_ magazine\n\nEssex (hotel)\n\nEvans, Arthur\n\ncoming out\n\nand Allen Ginsberg\n\nand GAA\n\nand GLF\n\npolitical action of\n\non Marty Robinson\n\nand the Snake Pit raid\n\nExecutive Order 10,450\n\nextortion (and blackmail)\n\nWall Street employees\n\nFader, Michael\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\nFancher, Ed\n\nFBI\n\nhomophobia of\n\n_See also_ Hoover, J. Edgar\n\nFeinstein, Dianne\n\nFidelifacts, GAA zap of\n\n55 bar\n\n59 Grove Street\n\nFisk, John\n\nflame queens\n\n_See also_ street kids; transvestites\n\nForbes, Malcolm\n\n\"Forget Me Not,\"\n\n415 (bar)\n\nFouratt, James\n\nFrank (Danny Garvin's friend)\n\nFrank (Craig Rodwell's friend)\n\nFreedom House\n\nGabriel, Pauln\n\nGalvin, Earl\n\nGarelick, Sanford\n\nGarland, Judy\n\nas cause of the Stonewall Riots\n\nGarvin, Danny\n\nand the gay commune\n\nand Ed Murphy\n\nNavy, discharge from\n\nand the year 1969\n\nand the Stonewall Inn\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\nsuicide attempt\n\n_Gay_ (newspaper)\n\n\"gay\" as a term\n\nGay, Sidney Howard\n\nGay Activists Alliance (GAA)\n\nChristopher Street Liberation Day\n\nFidelifacts zap\n\nfocus of\n\nformation of\n\nCarol Greitzer, petition presented to\n\n_Harper's_ magazine zap\n\nlambda symbol\n\nJohn Lindsay, zaps confronting\n\nmarriage bureau zap\n\nand the media\n\nmeetings, structure of\n\nmembership\n\npolitical actions of. _See also below_ zaps\n\npreamble and constitution of\n\nRepublican State Committee headquarters sit-in (Rockefeller Five)\n\nSnake Pit raid protest march\n\nzaps\n\ngay communes\n\n_Gay Law_ (Eskridge, Jr.)\n\nGay Liberation Front (GLF)\n\nbars, demonstrations against\n\ncell structure\n\nchanting\n\nChristopher Street Liberation Day\n\n_Come Out!_\n\nconsciousness-raising sessions\n\nfocus of\n\nformation of\n\nand \"gay\" as a term\n\nGLF dances\n\ninfighting and internal disputes\n\nMarxist ideology and\n\npolitical candidates, confronting\n\nRadical Study Group\n\nSnake Pit raid protest march\n\n_Village Voice_ , demonstrations against\n\ngay lifestyle (pre-Stonewall)\n\nbathhouses\n\ncamp and street slang\n\ngay communes\n\n_New York City Gay Scene Guide_ (Mattachine\u2013NY)\n\nself-hate\n\nstreet cruising\n\ntrucks, sex at\n\nthe year 1969, omens concerning\n\n_See also_ bar culture\n\n\"Gay Manifesto, A\" (Wittman)\n\ngay men\n\neffeminate men\n\nlegal status\n\nmedia depiction. _See also_ media\n\npre-Stonewall situation of\n\ngay movement (post-Stonewall) (East Coast)\n\nAlternate U. meetings\n\nChristopher Street Liberation Day\n\nGay Activists Alliance (GAA)\n\nGay Liberation Front (GLF)\n\nGay Power vigil and march\n\nHomosexuals Intransigent\n\nMattachine Action Committee (MAC)\n\nriots as origin of\n\n_See also_ homophile organizations\n\ngay movement (pre-Stonewall) (East Coast)\n\nbar protests\n\n\"Equality for Homosexuals\" buttons\n\ngay communes\n\nHomosexual League of New York\n\nHYMN (Homophile Youth Movement in Neighborhoods)\n\nJudson Church meeting (1966)\n\nOscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop\n\nPink Panthers\n\nState Liquor Authority anti-gay regulations, challenges to\n\nWBAI broadcast and\n\n_Gay New York_ (Chauncey)\n\n_Gay Power_ newspaper\n\nGay Power vigil and march\n\n\"gay pride\" as a term\n\nGay Street\n\n_Gay Sunshine_\n\ngender-fuck\n\nGerling, Enid\n\nGino (friend of Steve Yates)\n\nGinsberg, Allen\n\nFestival of Life (Chicago Democratic Convention)\n\non the sexuality of J. Edgar Hoover\n\nand the Stonewall Riot\n\nGittings, Barbara\n\nGlide, Lizzie\n\nGlide Memorial Church\n\nGlide Memorial Foundation\n\nGloeden, Baron von\n\ngo-go boys\n\nGodfrey, Arthur\n\nGoldstein, Al\n\nGoldwater, Barry\n\nGoodman, John\n\nGotham Young Republican Club\n\nGoudreau, Lawrence, Jr.\n\nGreenwich Village\n\nbohemian presence in\n\nChristopher Park (Sheridan Square)\n\nChristopher Street\n\nThe Corner (Greenwich Avenue and Christopher Street)\n\ngay population of\n\nhistory of\n\nNorthern Dispensary\n\nstreet layout\n\nsubway and PATH access to\n\nWashington Square Park\n\n_Greenwich Village Historic District Designation Report, The_\n\nGreitzer, Carol\n\nGAA petition presented to\n\nGrove Street\n\nGunnison, Foster\n\n_Hair_ (Ragni\/Rado\/MacDermot)\n\n\"Hairpin Drop Heard Around the World, The\" (Leitsch)\n\nHaliburt (hotel)\n\nHamill, Pete\n\nHampton, Dawn\n\nHanson, Ed\n\nHardy, Jennifer\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\n_Harper's_ magazine, GAA zap of\n\nHart, Lois\n\nand GLF\n\nHay, Harry\n\nCommunist party affiliation\n\nHeide, Robert\n\nHighwater, Jamake\n\nHodges, Julian\n\nHoey, Clyde\n\nHoffman, Abbie\n\nhomophile organizations (post-Stonewall) (East Coast). See gay movement (East Coast)\n\nhomophile organizations (pre-Stonewall) (East Coast)\n\nDaughters of Bilitis (DOB)\n\ndivisions among leaders\n\nEastern Regional Conference of Homophile Organizations (ERCHO)\n\nMattachine Society of New York (Mattachine\u2013New York)\n\nMattachine Society of Washington (Mattachine\u2013Washington)\n\npublications. _See also_ media (homophile and gay movement)\n\nWest Side Discussion Group\n\nhomophile movement (pre-Stonewall) (West Coast)\n\nCommittee for Homosexual Freedom (CHF)\n\nCouncil on Religion and the Homosexual (CRH)\n\nLeague for Civil Education (LCE)\n\nMattachine Society of Los Angeles\n\nSociety for Individual Rights (SIR)\n\nTavern Guild (San Francisco)\n\nVanguard\n\nhomophobia\n\nEd Koch and\n\nMcCarthyism and\n\nin the media\n\nQueens, anti-gay vigilantism in\n\n_Village Voice_ and\n\n\"Homosexual Citizen, The\" (Nichols\/ Lige)\n\n_Homosexual Handbook_\n\nHomosexual League of New York\n\n\"Homosexual Liberation Meeting\" (flyer)\n\nHomosexuals Intransigent\n\nHoose, Jerry\n\nand GLF\n\nand Mafia-run bars\n\nand the term \"gay pride,\"\n\nHoover, J. Edgar\n\nHormona, Jackie\n\nHostetter, Donald\n\nHouse of Detention for Women\n\nBastille Day picketing\n\nStonewall riot, inmates and\n\nHoving, Thomas\n\nHoward Johnson's (Greenwich Village)\n\npolitical action (sip-in) at\n\nstreet kids and\n\nHumphrey, Hubert\n\nHuss, Gene\n\n\"Hustler, The,\"\n\nhustling (male prostitution)\n\nHYMN (Homophile Youth Movement in Neighborhoods)\n\n_Hymnal_ newsletter\n\nIanello, Matty (the Horse)\n\nIndependence Hall (Philadelphia)\n\nAnnual Reminder\n\nInman, Richard\n\nInterpol bond investigation\n\nIrish Sylvia (street queen)\n\nJack (waiter at Mama's Chick'N'Rib)\n\nJefferson, Thomas\n\nJewish Mafia\n\nJiggs, Maggie\n\nJoel S.\n\n\"Joey\" (partner in the Stonewall Inn)\n\nJohn (men's room attendant)\n\narrest of\n\nJohnson, Lyndon\n\nJohnson, Marsha P. (Malcolm Michaels, Jr.)\n\ngenerosity of\n\nand the Stonewall Riots\n\nJulius' (bar)\n\nKahn, Joseph\n\nKameny, Frank\n\nand the Annual Reminder (Philadelphia)\n\nand government clearance\n\nand Mattachine-Washington\n\nKaminsky, Sherman Chadwick. _See_ Vargo, Paul\n\nKatzenberg, Bill\n\nKeating, Judge\n\nKeller (hotel)\n\nKeller's (bar)\n\nKelly, Colin\n\nKennedy, Flo\n\nkidnapping, Mafia and\n\nKiki (cross-dressing hairstylist)\n\nKirk, Grayson\n\nKnapp, Don\n\nKoch, Ed\n\nhomophobia of\n\nKohler, Bob\n\nand the GLF dances\n\nand Ed Murphy\n\nand the Stonewall Riots\n\nKonrad (South African youth)\n\nKuhn, Don\n\n_Ladder_ (DOB publication)\n\nLahusen, Kay Tobin. _See_ Tobin, Kay\n\nlambda symbol\n\nLanigan-Schmidt, Tommy\n\nand Ed Murphy\n\nand the Stonewall Inn\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\non the streets\n\nLassoe, John\n\nLaurence, Leo E.\n\nand the Stonewall Riot\n\nLauria, Ernie\n\nLauria, Fat Tony\n\nLavender Menace (lesbian group)\n\n_LCE News_\n\nLeague for Civil Education (LCE)\n\nLeague for Sexual Freedom\n\nLeary, Howard\n\nlegal status (of gay men and lesbians)\n\nExecutive Order 10,450\n\nhomosexual acts, legalizing\n\npublic toilet, loitering in\n\npre-Stonewall\n\nsodomy laws\n\nLeitsch, Dick\n\ncoming out\n\nJudson Church meeting (1966)\n\nand Mattachine\u2013New York\n\nand Ed Murphy\n\nNew York City, life in\n\non payoffs\n\nand police entrapment\n\npolitical activism (post-Stonewall)\n\nand Craig Rodwell\n\nand the State Liquor Authority\n\nand the Stonewall Inn\n\non _The Village Voice_\n\nLeitsch, Dick (Stonewall raid and riot)\n\nFriday\n\nSaturday\n\nStonewall Inn's window, sign in\n\nSunday-Wednesday\n\nLenny's Hideaway (bar)\n\nlesbians\n\nlegal status\n\nliterature\n\nmedia depiction\n\npre-Stonewall situation of\n\nStonewall raid, police manhandling\n\nStonewall raid, reaction to\n\nWomen's House of Detention inmates, solidarity with Stonewall rioters\n\nLewis, Joseph\n\nLiberace\n\nLindsay, John V.\n\nGAA zaps confronting\n\nLion's Head pub\n\nLiscoe, Kevin\n\nLittlejohn, Larry\n\nlobotomies\n\nas punishment for homosexuality\n\nLuke Connor's (hangout)\n\nMcCarthy, Eugene\n\nMcCourt, Frank\n\nMcDarrah, Fred\n\nMcDonnell, James\n\nMcIlvenna, Ted\n\nMafia\n\nChristopher Street Liberation Day, opposition to\n\ndrug dealing\n\nand gay bars\n\nand hustling (male prostitution)\n\nJewish Mafia\n\nand the Stonewall Inn\n\nWall Street employees, blackmail of\n\nMagoo (Bob Kohler's dog)\n\nMailer, Norman\n\nMais Oui (bar)\n\nMaloney, Andrew\n\nMama's Chick'N'Rib\n\nManford, Morty\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\nMarat, Jean-Paul (pseudonym)\n\nMarchi, John J.\n\nMarcus, Eric\n\nmarijuana, legalization of\n\nMarlton (hotel)\n\nMarotta, Toby\n\nmarriage bureau, GAA zap of\n\nMartello, Leo\n\nMartha Reeves and the Vandellas\n\nMarxist Socialist Workers Party (SWP)\n\nMattachine Action Committee (MAC)\n\nMattachine Society of Los Angeles\n\nas an educational and research organization\n\nand political action\n\nMattachine Society of New York (Mattachine\u2013New York)\n\n_Eastern Mattachine Magazine_\n\ngay bars, legalizing\n\n_New York City Gay Scene Guide_ (Mattachine\u2013New York)\n\nJulian Hodges as president\n\nDick Leitsch as president\n\nand political action\n\nStonewall Inn's window, sign in\n\nStonewall Riots, ambivalent response to\n\n_See also New York Mattachine Newsletter_\n\nMattachine Society of Washington (Mattachine\u2013Washington)\n\nMead, Taylor\n\nmedia\n\ndemonstrations against\n\nand the early gay movement\n\nand GAA\n\nhomophobia of\n\non Ed Murphy's extortion career\n\nand the post-Stonewall movement\n\n\"sip ins\" (political action in bars)\n\nSnake Pit raid\n\nand the Stonewall Riots\n\nmedia (homophile and gay movement)\n\n_Advocate_ magazine\n\n_Come Out!_ (GLF newspaper)\n\n_Eastern Mattachine Magazine_\n\n_Gay_\n\n_Gay Power_ newspaper\n\n_Gay Sunshine_\n\n_Hymnal_ newsletter\n\n_Ladder_ (DOB publication)\n\n_LCE News_\n\n_New York City Gay Scene Guide_ (Mattachine\u2013New York)\n\n_New York Mattachine Newsletter_\n\n_Queen's Quarterly_\n\n_V_ magazine (Vanguard group)\n\n_Vector_ magazine (Tavern Guild)\n\nMeher Baba\n\nMekas, Jonas\n\nMichael (roommate of Arthur Evans)\n\nMidler, Bette\n\nMilano's (bar)\n\nMiles, Barry\n\nMilk, Harvey\n\nMorgan, Robin\n\nMorgenthau, Robert\n\nMoss Bar\n\n_Mother Stonewall and the Golden Rats_ (Lanigan-Schmidt)\n\nmurder, Mafia and\n\nMurdoch, Keith\n\nMurphy, Ed (the Skull)\n\nChristopher Street Liberation Day, appropriation of\n\ncriminal career\n\nextortion and blackmail\n\nFBI, as alleged informant for\n\nas \"the first Stonewaller,\"\n\nJ. Edgar Hoover, alleged blackmail of\n\nkidnapping and murder, suspicion of\n\nat the Stonewall Inn\n\nStonewall Riots, arrest and escape\n\nWall Street employees, blackmail of\n\nMurphy, Michael J.\n\nMystique (bar)\n\nNBC-TV\n\nNeier, Aryeh\n\nNelly (a.k.a. Betsy Mae Kulo) (street queen)\n\n\"New Homosexual,\"\n\n_New Symposium, The_ (WBAI program)\n\n_New Symposium II, The_\n\nNew York City (and gays)\n\nlegal oppression of\n\npopulation of\n\n_See also_ Greenwich Village\n\n_New York City Gay Scene Guide_\n\nNew York _Daily News_\n\n_New York Herald Tribune_\n\nNew York Hilton, blackmail ring at\n\n_New York Journal-American_\n\n_New York Mattachine Newsletter_\n\n\"D.D.'s New York,\"\n\non Ed Murphy\n\n_New York Post_\n\nNew York Radical Women\n\nNew York Stock Exchange\n\ntoilet action\n\nWall Street employees, blackmail of\n\n_New York Times_\n\n_Newsweek_\n\nNichols, Jack\n\nand _Gay_\n\nand Mattachine-Washington\n\n1964 World's Fair\n\nand harassment of homosexuals\n\n1969 (the year)\n\nomens and predictions concerning\n\nNixon, Marty\n\nNorthern Dispensary\n\nNova (Zazu Nova, Queen of Sex);\n\nNovak, Tammy (drag queen)\n\nO'Brien, John\n\nand GLF\n\npolitical activities (post-Stonewall)\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\nO'Hara, Frank\n\nO'Neill, Eugene\n\n_Official and Confidential: The Secret Life of J. Edgar Hoover_ (Summers)\n\nOlenick, Michael\n\nOmega (bar)\n\nOpera Jean (a.k.a. Sister Tooey) (street queen)\n\nOrphan Annie (street queen)\n\nOscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop\n\nOwles, Jim\n\nand GAA\n\nand GLF\n\nSnake Pit raid\n\n_Pageant_ magazine\n\nPaine, Thomas\n\nPeggy (Stonewall Inn customer)\n\nPennsylvania\n\nhomosexuals, laws restricting\n\nPerrin, Barry\n\nPerry, Troy\n\npharmacological shock therapy\n\nas punishment for homosexuality\n\nPhiladelphia\n\nAnnual Reminder at Independence Hall\n\nPine, Seymour\n\nFirst Division of the Public Morals, appointment to\n\nand the Interpol bond investigation\n\nmeets with Mattachine Society of New York\n\nmilitary career\n\npost-Stonewall transfer\n\nPine, Seymour (Stonewall raid and riot)\n\nearlier raid (June 24)\n\npolice using guns, option of\n\nand policewomen\n\npreparation for\n\nreason for raid\n\nsearch warrant\n\nStonewall Inn, trapped inside\n\nDave Van Ronk's arrest\n\nPink Elephant (bar)\n\nPink Panthers\n\nPitts, Charles\n\nPoe, Edgar Allan\n\npolice, street slang for\n\npolice brutality\n\nPolice Department\n\nbar raids and closings\n\nentrapment\n\nFirst Division of the Public Morals\n\nharassment\n\npayoffs and corruption\n\nundercover cops, homosexuals as\n\n_See also_ Stonewall Riots; Sixth Precinct; Tactical Patrol Force\n\nProcaccino, Mario\n\nProvincetown Players\n\npsychological establishment and homosexuality\n\npublic toilets, loitering in\n\nPyne, John J.\n\n_Queen's Quarterly_\n\nQueens (New York City borough), anti-gay vigilantism in\n\nRaia, Phil\n\nRanieri, John Paul\n\n_Rat_ newspaper\n\n_Realist_ magazine\n\nRed Swan Social Club. _See_ Stonewall Inn\n\nRepublican State Committee headquarters\n\nGAA sit-in (Rockefeller Five)\n\nRiker's restaurant\n\nRing, Thomas\n\nRitter, Maria (Steve)\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\nRitter, Steve. _See_ Ritter, Maria\n\nRitz, Crema\n\nRivera, Birdie (Robert) (street queen),\n\n59\n\nRobinson, Marty\n\nand GAA\n\nand GLF\n\npolitical activism (post-Stonewall)\n\nSnake Pit raid\n\nRockefeller Five\n\nRodwell, Craig\n\nand the Annual Reminder (Philadelphia)\n\nChristopher Street Liberation Day\n\ncoming out\n\nand Dick Leitsch\n\nand the Mafia's control of bars\n\nand Mattachine\u2013New York\n\nand the media\n\nand Harvey Milk\n\nHYMN (Homophile Youth Movement in Neighborhoods)\n\nOscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop\n\npolice, problems with\n\npolitical activism\n\npolitical activism (post-Stonewall)\n\nand the Stonewall Inn\n\nsuicide attempt\n\nRodwell, Craig (Stonewall raid and riot)\n\non the cause of\n\nChristopher Street, blocking\n\nFriday night\n\nthe future, considering\n\nSaturday\n\nSunday\n\nRuitenbeek, Hendrick\n\nRussia and homosexuals\n\nRusso, Vito\n\nSt. John's Episcopal Church\n\nSalmieri, Salvatore\n\nSan Francisco\n\nhomophile movement in\n\nTenderloin district\n\nSan Francisco State College strike\n\nSans Souci (bar)\n\nSapponckanican (Indian settlement)\n\nSargeant, Fred\n\nSarria, Jos\u00e9\n\nscare drag\n\nscare queens\n\n_See also_ street kids; transvestites\n\nSchwan, Judge\n\nScherker, Michael\n\nScott, David\n\n_Screw_ (newspaper)\n\nSecor, Neil\n\n17 Barrow Street (bar)\n\nSeventh Avenue\n\nSeventh Avenue South\n\nSeventh Avenue subway (IRT)\n\nChristopher Street\/Sheridan Square station\n\nSewer (bar)\n\nShades, Johnny\n\nShaheen, Chuck\n\nShakur, Afeni\n\nShelley, Martha\n\nand GLF\n\npolitical activism (post-Stonewall)\n\nSheridan, Philip\n\nSheridan Square (Christopher Park)\n\nshock therapy\n\nas punishment for homosexuality\n\nSilver Dollar Restaurant\n\nSilverman, Susan\n\nSixth Avenue subway (IND)\n\nWest 4th Street station\n\nSixth Precinct\n\nSnake Pit raid protest march\n\npayoffs to\n\nwarning of raids\n\n_See also_ Stonewall Riots\n\nSmilers Deli\n\nSmith, Howard\n\nStonewall Inn, trapped inside\n\nStonewall raid and riot, observing\n\n_Village Voice_ article\n\nSmythe, Charles\n\nSnake Pit, The (bar)\n\ncustomers chanting and singing\n\ngay rights movement, effect on\n\nmedia and\n\nSeymour Pine's raid on\n\nAlfredo Vinales, impalement of\n\nSociety for Individual Rights (SIR)\n\nsodomy laws\n\nSpanola Jerry (drag queen)\n\nSpellman, Cardinal Francis\n\nSpencer, Walter Troy\n\n\"Spider, The\" (dance)\n\nStanford Sit-In\n\nStanley (street queen)\n\nState Liquor Authority (SLA)\n\ncorruption in\n\nhomosexuals, regulation of\n\nStates Steamship Line, picketing\n\nStevenson, Adlai\n\nStokes, Phillip\n\n_Stone Wall, The_ (\"Mary Casal\")\n\nStonewall Inn (bar)\n\nalcohol, watering\n\nclientele\n\nclosure\n\ncommunity feeling, sense of\n\ndecor and layout of\n\ndrug dealing and use\n\nearly history of\n\nfinancial success of\n\nfire exits, lack of\n\ngo-go boys\n\nJohn (men's room attendant)\n\nlesbians at\n\nlocation of\n\nMafia involvement with\n\nmusic and dancing\n\npayoffs\n\nas a private club\n\nprostitution at\n\nracial mix\n\nraids, police warning of\n\nsanitation\n\nas a street queen hangout\n\ntransvestites and transsexuals\n\nWall Street employees, Mafia blackmail of\n\nwindows and doors, reinforcement of\n\nwomen at\n\nStonewall Inn raid\n\narrests\n\nBureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms\n\nDepartment of Consumer Affairs\n\nearlier raid (June 24)\n\nlesbian reaction to\n\nlesbians, police manhandling\n\nSeymour Pine's preparation for\n\npolicewomen and\n\nresistance. _See also_ Stonewall Riots\n\nSixth Precinct and\n\ntransvestites and\n\nStonewall Inn Restaurant\n\nStonewall Riots\n\ncasualties\n\ncause of and credit for starting\n\nchanting and protest songs\n\ncrowd gathering\n\neffeminate men and\n\nfull moon and temperature as cause\n\ngay rights movement, effect on\n\nhumor, camp, and kick lines\n\nmedia reaction to\n\nneighborhood reaction to\n\npolice brutality\n\npolice surprised by\n\nradical Left provocateurs and\n\nstreet kids and\n\ntransvestites and\n\n\"We are the Stonewall Girls,\"\n\nthe year 1969, omens concerning\n\nStonewall Riots (Friday night)\n\narrest that initiated\n\narrests, reaction to\n\nRay Castro's arrest\n\ncobblestone, bottle, and garbage can throwing\n\ncoin tossing\n\ncrowd, fire hoses turned on\n\ncrowd, street kids robbing\n\ncrowd, Tactical Patrol Force (TPF) attempting to control\n\nfire trucks arrive\n\nfires and Molotov cocktails\n\nlesbian who resisted arrest\n\npaddy wagon escapes\n\nparking meter as battering ram\n\npolice using guns, option of\n\npolice vehicles, tires slashed on\n\nStonewall Inn, police escape from\n\nStonewall Inn, police trapped inside\n\nwindows breaking\n\nStonewall Riots (Saturday)\n\nboarded-up windows, slogans on\n\nChristopher Street, blocking\n\nCrazies exploiting\n\nfires and projectiles\n\nJudy Garland's death and\n\nthe gathering crowd\n\nneighborhood bar business, effect on\n\nTactical Patrol Force (TPF) and\n\ntaxi driver, death of\n\ntaxicab overturned\n\ntemperature\n\nStonewall Riots (Sunday\u2013Wednesday)\n\narrests\n\ncasualties\n\npolice, interaction with\n\npolice badge, theft of\n\nradical Left involvement\n\nshops broken into\n\nStonewall Inn's window, sign in\n\n\"Stonewall Riot Remembered, The\" (Crosby)\n\nstreet cruising\n\nstreet kids (street queens)\n\nbehavior\n\nbravery of\n\nand Christopher Park\n\nflame queens\/scare queens\n\ndrugs and\n\nand GLF\n\nhustling\n\nand the Stonewall Inn\n\nand the Stonewall Riots\n\n_See also_ transvestites\n\nStryker, Susann\n\nStudents for a Democratic Society (SDS)\n\nSummers, Anthony\n\nTactical Patrol Force (TPF) (Stonewall riots)\n\nbrutality\n\nFriday night\n\nSaturday\n\nand Snake Pit raid protest march\n\n\"Tano\" (Puerto Rican youth)\n\nTatem, Adam\n\nTavern Guild (San Francisco)\n\nTaylor, Harry\n\nTeal, Donn\n\nTel-Star (bar)\n\n_Tenderloin Report_ (CCCC)\n\nTenth of Always (juice bar)\n\nTerrace (bar)\n\n\"Third Finger, Left Hand,\"\n\nTiffany (drag queen)\n\n_Time_ magazine\n\nTimmons, John\n\nTish (female impersonator)\n\nTobin, Kay\n\nTolson, Clyde\n\n\"Tom\" ( _Rat_ reporter)\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\nTommy (street kid)\n\n_Tonight_ show\n\n\"Tony the Sniff\" (partner in the Stonewall Inn)\n\nTower Records (San Francisco), CHF picketing\n\nTransit Police, and entrapment\n\ntransvestite as a term\n\ntransvestites (and transsexuals)\n\nflame queens\/scare queens\n\nlaws concerning\n\nat the Stonewall Inn\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\n_See also_ street kids\n\nTree (bartender)\n\ntrucks, sex at\n\nTruscott, Lucian (and the Stonewall raid and riot)\n\nTruscott, Lucian _(continued)_\n\nFriday night\n\nSaturday\n\nSunday\n\n_Village Voice_ article\n\nUkrainian-American Village Restaurant\n\npolitical action (sip-in) at\n\nUnited Cigar Store\n\nUnited Nations, picketing\n\n_V_ magazine (Vanguard)\n\nVag, \"Mark,\"\n\nvan Cline, Stephen\n\nVan Ronk, Dave\n\narrest of\n\nand the Stonewall Riots\n\nVan Twiller, Wouter\n\nVanguard\n\nVarela, Emile\n\nVargo, Paul (Sherman Chadwick Kaminsky)\n\n_Variety_ magazine\n\n_Vector_ magazine (Tavern Guild)\n\nVietnam War, opposition to\n\nVillage Independent Democrats (VID)\n\n_Village Voice_\n\nand censorship\n\nGLF demonstrations against\n\nhomophobia of\n\nand Off Off Broadway\n\nand the post-Stonewall movement\n\nStonewall Riots coverage\n\nVinales, Alfredo Diego\n\nVincenz, Lilli\n\nVoeller, Bruce\n\nWagner, Robert\n\nWaikiki (bar)\n\npolitical action (sip-in) at\n\nWall Street employees\n\nMafia blackmail of\n\n_Wall Street Journal_\n\nWashington Square Park\n\nas cruising area\n\nWaverly Place\n\nWBAI\n\n_The New Symposium_\n\n_The New Symposium II_\n\nand the Stonewall Riots\n\nRandy Wicker broadcast\n\n\"We are the Stonewall Girls,\"\n\nWeaver, Bill\n\nWeeks, Father James\n\nWeinberg, Martin\n\nWeissman, Gil\n\nWest 4th Street\n\nWest Germany\n\nhomosexual acts, legalizing\n\nWest Side Discussion Group\n\n\"Where It Was\" (article)\n\nWhite, Edmund\n\nand the Stonewall raid and riot\n\nand the Stonewall Riots aftermath\n\non _Village Voice_ Stonewall coverage\n\nWhite House, picketing\n\nWhitman, Walt\n\nWhittington, Gale\n\n_Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?_ (Albee)\n\nWicker, Randy\n\nHomosexual League of New York\n\nJudson Church meeting (1966)\n\nLeague for Sexual Freedom\n\nand Marsha P. Johnson\n\nand Mattachine\u2013New York\n\nand the media\n\nStonewall Riots, reaction to\n\nWBAI broadcast\n\nWilde, Oscar, vii\n\nWilliams, Colin\n\nWilliams, Cecil\n\nWilson, Doric\n\nentrapment of\n\nWilson, Pete\n\nWilson, Lanford\n\nWittman, Carl\n\nWodetski, Tom\n\nwomen's rights\n\nWynkoop, William\n\nYates, Steve\n\nYoung, Allen\n\nYoung Socialists Alliance (YSA)\n\nzaps\n\nZarfas, Zookie\n\nZodiac (bar)\n","meta":{"redpajama_set_name":"RedPajamaBook"}}