[Recently], the Black Cat cemented its place in history with a city designation as a historic-cultural monument. Alexei Romanoff, who rallied outside the Black Cat in February 1967 with a few hundred demonstrators, said the designation is a reminder of the progress the gay rights movement has made — and of the work that remains.
"We were terrified at the time," said Romanoff, 72. "It wasn't safe to be a gay man and professing you were gay. . . . We were afraid we would get beat up and, possibly worst of all, be rejected by our own families." The 1967 protest lasted days and came one month after a police raid at the Black Cat and nearby New Faces bar, which Romanoff had owned until a few months before the raid.
Just after midnight on New Year's Eve, as balloons floated down from the ceiling, a trio of singers belted out "Auld Lang Syne" and patrons exchanged embraces and kisses, plainclothes and uniformed Los Angeles Police Department officers swarmed the Black Cat, beating and arresting 14 patrons and bartenders. Two men, who had fled from the raid to New Faces, were chased and arrested there, where the owner and a bartender were also beaten.
Two of the men arrested that night, accused of lewd conduct for kissing another man, were found guilty by a jury and registered as sex offenders. The men appealed, asserting the right of equal protection under the law, but the U.S. Supreme Court did not accept their case.
Herb Selwyn, 83,who filed the appeal, was one of few attorneys at the time who would represent gay clients. He took the Black Cat case pro bono and prepared a pocket-sized guide to legal rights that was distributed to patrons at gay bars. "In those days, for a lawyer to represent gays, people would think they were gay, and that frightened a lot of lawyers," said Selwyn, who is heterosexual. "I didn't give a damn myself."…
The Black Cat demonstration was the first time Romanoff and many of his gay peers protested in public. They carried signs reading "No More Abuse of Our Dignity and Rights" and "Peace in Silver Lake." They handed out fliers decrying police brutality and treatment of gays, and garnered supportive honks from passing cars.
But fearful of retaliation, protesters never once uttered the name of the group that brought them together — the newly formed Personal Rights in Defense and Education, or PRIDE. And fearful of police officers, who were watching the demonstration, Romanoff said protesters "didn't dare step off the sidewalk." Still, Romanoff said, "there was a feeling of relief. . . . I felt for once in my life, I wasn't lying. I wasn't pretending to be something other than who I was."