In the dry quiet heat of Amarillo, Texas, a woman named Evelyn was born in the year 1937. Raised as the daughter of a devout Catholic deacon, she grew up in a strict household where tradition and conservative values were deeply ingrained. There was always an air of military order. Cleanliness was next to godliness, and dinner was on the table when her father got home from work. Evelyn possessed a vibrant spirit and a rebelliousness that got her cross with her father. She would often tease her sister and mouth off. After missing her curfew one too many times, her father laid down the law, “If you’re gonna be late, don’t bother coming home!” This is how she ended up married for the first time at age fifteen. What could she do at this young age to support herself or a new life? She stayed in school; she stayed at her new, older husband’s home; she worked as a cleaner and barmaid.
Evelyn had always admired her mother's impeccable style, often watching her create glamorous beehive hairdos and apply dark red lipstick. These images stayed with her, becoming a source of inspiration as she grew older. It didn’t hurt that her big bosom at a young age and flirtatious talk invited more men into her orbit. The first marriage ended quickly and she found herself shacked up with a bar owner. He eventually let her take command of one of his slower outfits and she used it as an opportunity to continue creating scandal. This was the time of a rising counterculture movement, and Evelyn embraced it wholeheartedly. As if in direct retaliation to her father and the home in which she was raised, she opened the doors to "Evelyn's Haven" in 1965, the first gay and lesbian bar in Texas.
She ran the place with an iron fist and personally cussed out anyone who’d come in to cause a stir. Her pride of place was at the end of the long bar, and this was her perch where she’d watch over her patrons like a mother hen. Her signature beehive hairdo and dark red lips always stood out. She would greet her patrons with warmth and kindness, making sure everyone felt valued and embraced. Yet she continued to treat all the men in her private life like shit.
As the 1970s rolled in, conservative forces in Amarillo grew increasingly hostile towards Evelyn's Haven. Societal pressure and opposition from local authorities escalated, and despite the love and acceptance the bar had fostered, it faced an uphill battle to survive. In 1974, under mounting pressure from the city, the bar closed its doors. By this time, she was on her third marriage, and they decided to move to Dallas. She decided to finally put down roots and become a housewife.
There was no ‘happy ending.’ After this business run and its triumph in the face of adversity, her legacy was in her few children and the couple more marriages she racked up. Most of the time, in between the marriages, she worked two jobs to feed the kids. She wasn’t well-versed in parenting having started an adult life at the young age of fifteen. Since she was gone most of the time, the kids raised themselves. Too young to be an adult, but no other choice. How would they come to parent?
For decades, newspaper editorials have posted pieces on ‘better times,’ as if all preceding the current one we live in was more wholesome and idyllic; as if generations prior to ours had the benefit of being children by playing outside instead of playing video games or being glued to devices of all sorts. We are now bombarded with news, consumerism, porn, advertisements, consumption consumption consumption.
But children of the past were also sowing fields at a young age, and working in factory jobs to prevent their family's dire poverty. Was there ever a better time? It’s just different. And most often, the newer generation is specifically here to break the chain.
Every choice has consequences. There are always trade-offs -for the life you think you want and the one you get as a result of behavior.
This story is loosely based on my grandmother. If you’re interested in another story where she ran the roost, read We Bang Bang. It’s fabulous!
Quite a piece of history. The bar part of the story reminds me of the TV Bar which was a throwback to a different time and place. It was on Lamar next to a liquor store and diagonally across from the last remaining bus station. Wes Wise had a VW that was somehow put on top of the bar either right before or after he ran for mayor.
While living at the Manor House between 1988-1991 it was still in business and still sold men's handkerchiefs and combs behind the bar.