04 September . Not a racial thing ...?

My first visit to Georgetown was in October 1972 when as a senior and Class or Student Council President at Great Mill High School in Southern Maryland that I began spending weekends in Riverdale MD with friends, Tom Wiley, Tom Ocfemia and Allen Aud who attended the University of Maryland in College Park. On Friday nights, after visiting the gay bars on 9th Street in downtown DC, we'd drive down to Georgetown and cruise M Street, Wisconsin Avenue and Dumbarton Oaks.

We sometimes returned to Georgetown on Saturday afternoon for brunch at the Georgetown Grill or Mr. Henry's. And, of course, for more cruising along M Street and Wisconsin Avenue. And after dancing at the Pier Nine on Saturday night it was not uncommon for us to revisit Dumbarton Oaks before returning to Tom's apartment in Riverdale. Only to return to Georgetown on Sunday afternoon f0r brunch and more cruising.

By the time that I moved to College Park in the fall of 1973 to attend the University of Maryland as a freshman, if my memory serves me correctly, Tom and Allen were sharing an apartment in Rosslyn VA with a Navy man named Rodey. Though I had little time for partying since I attended school full-time and worked part-time I kept in touch with the group which by then included Tom Wiley, Tom Ocfemia, Allen Aud, Bill Cole and Rowdy. And sometimes met up with them at the Pier Nine or Lost and Found. Or visited with them at their apartment in Rosslyn. With the exception of Tom Ocfemia who was Filopena important differentiations between myself and others in the group was not only the the fact that they were white but also that they were from wealthy families. And, as such, they often received financial support from their families and were able to do things that I simply could not.

With that having been said I never, at the time, ever felt that I was less than any of them. Nor did they ever disrepect or treat me any different for being black. And, yet, it certainly was not difficult for them to witness the racism that I experienced from others when they and I traveled or went places together.

I can still remember, in October of 1973, when Fred Allentoff introduced me to Frank Gramarossa just outside of my dorm room at Easton Hall. Instantly, Frank and I became best friends. Soon thereafter, I introduced Frank to the Pier Nine, the Lost and Found and Georgetown. And he introduced me to Delta Tau Delta, which at the time he was pledging.

From the very beginning, Frank, was very much affected by the racism that, in sharp contrast to his experience, I confronted. Not only at the places that we visited together many which I introduced him to but also in the relationships that others had with me. Which, and with the exception of Frank most have proven to have been 'a racial thing'.

Though I had introduced Frank to the clubs in SE and SW ... and in sharp to contrast to his experience .... there were times that, even with two IDs, I was not permitted in.

A few months later on a Saturday or Sunday afternnon, in the spring of 1974, I gave Frank a tour of Georgetown Dumbarton Oaks. When we returned to the University of Maryland for our sophomore year, in the fall of 1974, I returned with my first car, a 1968 VW bug.

Though I was not into any of the partying that Frank and our other Delts engaged in since I had a car I sometimes drove down to the Pier Nine on Saturday nights. Or the Lost and Found on Sunday evenings, for tea dance. And, of course, Frank joined me. Before long, Mark Moylette and Jimmy Jenkins from the Delt house would join us. As would Lori, a young woman and professional jazz dancer whose father was a dance instructor at University of Maryland.

Not every weekend. But many weekends. By the spring of 1975 the word had gotten around that the Pier Nine was the place to be. Not only for gays but straights as well. So, it was not uncommon for Frank, Mark, Jimmy, Lori and I to run into some of our straight friends and fraternity brothers at the Pier Nine. And as popular as the place had become and though I had been a frequent customer since the fall of 1972 on the drive down to SE and SW the group's concern always was "Will Elvert be able to get in?".

After dancing at the Pier Nine we sometimes drove to Georgetown and cruised the streets or Dumbarton Oaks before returning back to College Park. Which was of less importance to me than to my group of friends. Since she had her own car, once Lori became a member of the group, it took the pressure off me to escort the group down to the clubs, where I may not be able to get in.

As a black male, "It's has always been about race!".

So when I heard news that during a July 2006 community meeting, in Georgetown, with concerned citizens pertaining to the murder of British political activist Alan Senitt that Acting D.C. Police Second District Cmdr. Andy Solberg had said "I would think that at 2 a.m. on the streets of Georgetown, a group of three people, one of whom is 15-years-old, one of whom is a bald chunky fat guy, are going to stand out. They were black. This is not a racial thing to say that black people are unusual in Georgetown. This is a fact of life." I could not help but reflect on my own experiences, over the years, as a black male when I had visited Georgetown.

My first visit to Georgetown was in the fall of 1972. And, for the most part, the people with whom I have associated, in Georgetown, were white. And though they and I attended the same universities, frequented the same clubs, worked with the caterers and sometimes engaged in sexual relations in each others homes ... our experiences have not ever been the same.

In connection with my Georgetown Windows Project the above picture was taken on Labor Day Monday, 4 September 2006 in memory of Eason Simmons in a similar way as, moments earlier, I would photograph the windows of Clydes. Eason Simmons, who was a close friend of Frank managed Bistro Francais and then Clydes before he operated Herb's on P Street and then Herb's at Rhode Island Avenue and 17th Street.

He, Frank, Rae Ann, Inny and I attended many a concert together, including Patti LaBelle, Melba Moore and Phyllis Hyman. In celebration of Eason's birthday as well as his blue eyes, on one occasion, the group of us after hosting an MDA punch party at Frank and Steve's apartment on Capitol Hill, and all dressed in blue tuxedos we'd hop into a rented blue limosene which chaufer us to Melba Moore Concert at the Warner Theater. And, later that night, we'd walk the streets of Georgetown and through Dumbarton Oaks, all tooted up.

On Monday, 4 September 2006, I'd began my Labor Day 2006 photowalk at the entrance of the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Rosslyn VA. Walk across the bridge to M Street and then along M Street, pass Wisconsin Avenue reflecting on almost 35 years.

Unfortunately, for me, it was often 'a racial thing.' Not from my perspective nor on my part. But, in the way that others reacted to me. As was the case, on Labor Day Monday, 4 September, when taking pictures of Key Bridge and Georgetown I wondering if the police would stop me as had the police, on Capitol Hill, on Labor Day Sunday 2004.

For me, a black man, it has always been "a racial thing!"