I'm a generation younger than you, Michael, but I still personally remember that "looking over the shoulder" feeling. When I was a young man, gay bars in places like New York City and Berlin were safe. I didn't look over my shoulder there. But in Des Moines? Well, the first gay bar I ever entered was in Des Moines. Called "The Question Mark" because its only signage was a small neon question mark above a door in an alley, the place was like a speakeasy.

People ducked in and out, sometimes lingering for a moment before darting into that alley, just to make sure nobody saw them do it.

Inside was a refuge, but nobody ever took safety for granted.

My first partner, in New York City, would be your age now if he hadn't passed still fairly young, and he told me countless stories about pre-Stonewall days at the bars and on the streets, evading police and bashers.

To both of our shock, we were gay bashed in 1991 at the end of Christopher Street in the heart of the gayest part of Greenwich Village.

To see gay-bashing incidents spiking sharply again today reminds me of the need for vigilance, lest our right to live in peace recede further and we once more feel we must duck in and out of dark alleys to find refuge.