Last year, Tampa made history by hosting the first Pride parade in the country since the pandemic began. It was a huge turnout, the largest in Florida and, by some numbers, in the Southeast, and became a model for other cities looking to celebrate safely during the pandemic.
In the long, winding history of Tampa Pride, the pandemic was not the only time the party was put on hold. What started as a small sock hop and barbecue on USF turned into a huge community event that became a hi-jacked "corporate" flop before being outright banned by a homophobic County Commissioner in 2005. The revitalized Pride in 2015 brought together a new generation of LGBTQ Tampa baes, who worked with some of the first generation organizers to create what we know today.
Carrie West and Mark Bias-West invited me to their insanely beautiful home in Ybor, where they hosted a "Wine Wednesday" for their friends, some of whom they've known since the beginning of Pride and some of the younger generation they've met through the years. The party had the familial feeling of a Mardi Gras krewe, where no glass went empty, and everyone was in good spirits.
While Tampa has always had an LGBTQ scene, it didn't host its first Pride until 1982. Curious, I began by asking what the scene was like before the first official Pride.
Debbie Ducko: I moved to Tampa in 1968. My brother was gay and lived in San Francisco, so my first Prides were there prior to the 70s. It didn't seem like it was that large of a community [in Tampa] at the time. It's not like it was in San Francisco or LA, where the LGBT community was large or more outgoing and out and about. But the main [Gay] club here was El Goya.
David Saniz: In the late 70s, early 80s, El Goya came around. And it was the most fabulous bar. There were only two or three bars that we had, but it was a bar that had five bars within the bar, you know? A dance bar, a show bar, a cave bar, a Western bar, and it was just where everybody went back then. That's where we all got to go. It was very difficult back then. It wasn't okay to be out. And Goya was like the breaking point. They ventured out, and then they started blossoming. And we started just …to me, it just started happening from there. It was a fun, loving place. You could just—I don't know how to explain it—you could just go there and be yourself. Although when you left, you had to be careful. You always had the haters that were out there, you know, waiting for you to come out.
Carrie West: Every time [you] left the bar, the police would pull you over. That was a very heavy presence, intimidation. They would do that outside Rene's [Lounge] or raid up The Old Plantation. So we left Rene's, and cops pull you over, "That bar you just left, you know what kind of bar that was? That's a homosexual bar. Did you know that, sir?" Because remember, you got caught or anything like that, they could put your name in the paper and list your job too.
In 1982, the first Tampa Pride festival was held on the USF campus. It was a modest affair that included a barbeque and a softball game. It grew to involve entertainment from headliners. However, not everyone in the community felt safe to go.
Carrie West: [People] were afraid to go to Pride. They didn't want to be identified [publically] as being gay. There were three differentials: there were Gays that wouldn't go to the clubs. They would go they go to these late-night clubs only, that would be open between 2am-7am. And there's those would go to the bath clubs and we had two or three bath clubs at that time. That's the only way they could really be with themselves…they were more closeted, married gays. That's all they had then…
So there were those that went out to bars late at night, and then those that would go out in daylight hours. I call them "light advocacy groups." Anybody that went to the bars- no advocacy. They didn't want to be associated with that. So a lot of them never crossed paths. So the advocacy groups really were on their own. They really had to fight by themselves. And those would be somewhat like the university crowds. Okay, so there wasn't much association between them and the community crowd. They're the ones that started Pride.
Debbie Duck: It was probably the first one they had that I went, yeah. To me, it was very liberating because it was something that I had been doing in other places, but I finally could do it at home. So it was—it felt good. It felt like "Okay, now we're coming to modern times. We're not going backwards."
Judy B. Goode: Well, I just checked it out. It was advertised. And at USF, it was really cool. Because back in the day, you didn't have to pay; you just went there on the campus. You could bring coolers, blankets, have a picnic. And you don't have to really pay for anything. I think it was like $2 to come into the gate or whatever. And Helen Reddy was playing that year. And I adore Helen Reddy. And they asked me if I would be her warmer back. And I said yes. And then I said: “I'm gonna write a song!” I don't remember the song, but I did write her song. And I sang it. Like I told you earlier, she hugged me like this (mimes somebody attempting to hug a person without physically touching them.)
But they, they paid for like $10,000 for four songs. And she did four songs, the same four songs. They had two sets. She then took a break did the same frickin four. I still love her music. But yeah, she was very homophobic. Everybody thought she was gay. Everybody thought that her and Anne Murry were getting it on. I mean, she looked like it—with that hair? Like, didn't she look like a dyke? Anyway, I think she was scared [to come out].
Carrie West: The first time I went to Pride, it was Helen Reddy on stage, and her opening act was Judy B. Goode. That was crazy. And it was at USF and it Sand Dunes, on the sand dunes in a park and they had a sock hop that night, a Tampa Pride sock hop, and there was maybe 20 of us there dancing in our socks— it was a "sock hop" okay— and everyone else came to see the gays. There were more [spectators] than us, and it was pretty crazy.
Judy B. Goode: You know what it reminded me of? Reminded me of Woodstock….Yeah, we had our picnic, and you know, it was like Woodstock. That's what it was like back then. And I thought, "this is really cool. I just came out, and this is really cool."
Carrie West: There was a small group in St. Petersburg, back in the 80s, and there was the group in Tampa, and that grew…They had a small parade down in Tampa, went from City Hall, and went down traveling to areas around there. I'd say that was '94. '95? '96 was the big one. They had a big convention, the biggest one in Tampa. It was the Men's International Chorus. They had that the same time as Tampa Pride. And it was funny because Dick Greco was the mayor at the time, and while [someone] was rehearsing "Give Me Kisses," Harvey Fierstein gave Greco a kiss.
Debbie Ducko: I think it brought all the different little sub-communities together as a cohesive group because now you had USF, you had Ybor, you had South Tampa. So now everybody is getting together.
Judy B. Goode: And then everything changed. It's like buy! Buy! Buy! Spend! Spend! Spend!
As Tampa Pride grew, there was a push from the former organizers to become bigger and bigger. In 2002, there was an attempt to host Pride at Raymond James Stadium, with Pat Benatar as lead act and tickets for "I think $80." The event failed to sell enough tickets and left organizers in debt.
Carrie West: Nobody went.
Debbie Ducko: Tampa Pride is a community, and it's mostly volunteers. We all volunteer and this stuff at Raymond James—that wasn't volunteers, that was corporate. That was corporations making money off of Pride. That's a big difference. That was business and sponsorship, whereas Tampa Pride is more of the community, and what people get out of it is family. That's what it's about, the family.
Carrie West: Everyone did major stories on it at the time; you can read all about it. Even Creative Loafing. Turns out what happened was they just spent too much money on coke. They even got a cruise ship, one of the ships they had was the "Eagle Empress." They paid for this cruise ship, and now they're bankrupt… That was the last year they did it.
After the event's failure at Raymond James, Tampa Pride went on what was meant to be a brief hiatus. However, in 2005, former Hillsborough County Commissioner, Ronda Storms, put to vote the position that the Commission "adopt a policy that Hillsborough County government abstain from acknowledging, promoting or participating in gay pride recognition and events, little g, little p" which passed, effectively banning all sanctioned Pride events from Hillsborough Country. Storms then added an amendment that would require a super-majority to repeal the ban.
Debbie Ducko: [Ronda Storms] was an uptight bitch. Always has been, since she was in office.
Judy B. Goode: She stopped Gay Pride. And the St. Pete Pride started, and St. Pete Pride was the biggest in the whole state of Florida. I don't know what year it was, but when it started, Mark and Carrie and me and my toy poodle, we did a free show benefit for them to start St. Pete Pride. They have never asked me to sing. Even though I was the first person to raise money for them. And I live over there. It's standing room only at my shows. (Judy B. Goode performs at the Hollander Hotel in St. Pete.)
Carrie West: What we did was Mark, and I and Jay Aller heard—I don't know how we were notified—but we heard from the mayor of Key West who said, "if you can't do Pride up there in Tampa, come do Pride in Exile." So that's what we did. We had Pride in Exile. We loaded up busses and went down there. We got a police escort down Duval street, first time they let busses on Duval.
In 2013, with the support of openly gay member Kevin Beckner, Hillsborough County Commission voted unanimously to repeal the ban. As a result, the Tampa Pride community started to work, and in 2015, Tampa held its first officially sanctioned pride in 13 years. It also brought together both older and newer members of the Tampa Bay LGBTQ community, who have helped Pride grow.
Carrie West: I figured it was going to be about 8,000 [people.] People said, "oh, we'll get a couple thousand people, they'll have their little hurrah,' and it was 25,000. I was up on Hamburger Mary's, and it started…Tears. I just saw it, and it was just so emotional.
David Triplett- Rosa: [in 2014] I met Carrie, and he was telling me he was going to start up Tampa Pride. So myself, a friend of mine, and some others were talking, and I thought: "this would be the perfect time to get the Tampa Pride Community Band started" and be the first [marching] band to join Tampa Pride. So in February 2014, we started up and have been in a mutual relationship since.
Joshua Triplett-Rosa: I'm not a musician per se...but I did actually learn to play a second bass drum and march in the first Tampa Pride. We wanted to be a part of something nice and a part of the community, so my husband taught me and my friends how to play the bass drum.
Josh Leonard: I've got to meet great people through Tampa Pride. I feel like Tampa has more of a community, and I feel more involved with [Pride] here than I felt in Orlando. Orlando was more spread out, so it was hard to get involved unless you knew certain people already involved with it. Everyone can be involved in Tampa Pride if they want. I like the fact that we're like one family here, and everyone's 'six degrees of Kevin Bacon' from each other.
Debbie Ducko: It's been growing and tripling every year with the amount of people that come…I think the community is ready. Most people are more open-minded than what they admit to, and I think more people are accepting of it. It's not behind closed doors anymore. It's out, and I think that helped a lot.
As I spoke with people, I also heard stories of difficulty here in Tampa. I heard about raids happing through the mid-00s and lying on the floor of bars in case cops shot through the door. More than one person had a tattoo in honor of the victims of the Pulse nightclub shooting. And everyone I spoke to shared their rage and horror at the "Don't Say Gay" bill and is worried for the safety and lives of Florida's LGBTQ students.
Tampa has an LGBTQ population of 5.9%, the 5th largest in the country, and although it has been 40 years since Tampa held its first Pride, the fact remains that Anti-Gay laws still get passed. The Tampa Pride Community Band, for example, plays benefits to raise money for local middle and high schools, but they can't advertise those shows in those same halls. It is hard to look at what is happening in Florida and not see echoes of those cops pulling over men outside of Rene's, threatening to expose them.
But as these people speak, their tone isn't one of resignation; it's of resistance. They speak with a fierce pride that comes from bravery and willingness to make things right.
Carrie West: When you start talking about, "Don't Say Gay," I say Gay. People need to be able to say who they are, be who they are, and celebrate who they are. And that's very important for this day and age… There's got to be a positive direction, and that positive direction will be coming around the corner very shortly. Step up. Listen. Let's see leadership. Let's keep the kids happy and positive. Let's keep the teachers going in a positive direction, and let's grow. Let's grow that positive effort that we all want to see.