FoundSF

Historical Essay

by Michah Ford, 2025

In San Francisco in the middle of the 20th century, police officers would demand bribes from gay bar owners to protect them from raids and arrests, which led to public humiliation. This was soon labeled as the Gayola Scandal. The origins of the scandal regarding homophobic legislation and police tactics are the main subject of this article's investigation into how it happened. It also exposes how the scandal served as a springboard for opposition and eventual reform, and if Gayola shows the bigger picture of how many societal and political problems the LGBTQ was facing at the time.

Gay bar owners Bryan Ray (left) and Norman Tullis (right) awaiting to deliver grand jury testimony during the "gayola" trials, 1961.

In the middle of the 20th century San Francisco police officers would frequently demand bribes from gay bar owners in return for keeping them safe from raids, arrests, and public humiliation. When it was exposed it was labeled the Gayola Scandal, a play on the phrase “payola,” which characterized the pay-to-play system of AM radio and popular music in the 1950s. The word 'gay' was added to show the homosexual background of the situation. This scandal demonstrated more than just corruption, it also exposed how the system targeted the LGBTQ community for discriminatory policies. The Gayola Scandal would help spark a change in politics and queer resistance.

San Francisco’s gay bar scene began to grow during World War II when thousands of servicemen and women passed through city ports and were exposed to new sexual possibilities outside of their home communities. After the war, gay bar scenes continued to grow, and by 1950 the city contained at least 34 gay and lesbian bars (Agee, 2006, p.466). However, this growth began to attract negative attention. Police viewed the gay crowd as both immoral and dangerous. They would often use vague laws like “lewd conduct” to justify their arrests and surveillance (Agee, 2006, pp. 467-469). The San Francisco Police Department (SFPD) had no clear approach towards policing these gay spaces. As patrol officer John Mindermann recalled, rank-and-file officers were expected to figure these things out on their own, which resulted in the use of violence and personal judgment (Agee, 2006, p. 468). Some officers would ignore gay bars, but others would power-trip and harass bar owners and patrons, especially when money was involved.

In the heart of the Gayola Scandal, gay bar owners were asked to pay low-income officers and sergeants bribes every month in exchange for protection from raids (Agee, 2006, pp. 470–471). Bar owners faced legal trouble if they refused to pay, which would bring public attention that they didn't want. Bob Ross, a gay bar owner, described how a policeman approached and asked for $500 per month to prevent harassment (Agee, 2006, p. 471). Officers even assumed that the payoffs included sex workers and dinner. The system’s corruption was pervasive rather than isolated. Seven officers were accused of accepting payoffs from gay bars, but, only one, Sergeant Waldo Reesink Jr. was found guilty and given a year in county jail, according to an article in the San Francisco Examiner in 1960. After 21 years of service with the SFPD, Reesink was found in possession of $120 that he received from a bar owner. His lawyer emphasized the “stigma” his family would bear despite pleading guilty, which is indicative of how queerness was portrayed as shameful.

The LGBTQ community started to rebel, despite the SFPD treating gay bar owners as routine. Gay and straight bar owners came together to launch a concerted campaign against the police in 1960. Cheif Thomas Cahill opened an internal investigation after they provided him with direct evidence of police extortion. This was the beginning of the Gayola Trials and also a pivotal moment. For the first time, the corruption was acknowledged publicly and some officers were held responsible. (Agee, 2006, pgs, 478-479). Even more powerful than the trials was the community organization that followed. Gay bar owners began to partner with liberal journalists and lawyers to promote systematic change (Agee, 2006, p. 482). Arguably one of the most important groups to emerge from this was the Tavern Guild, which was the nation's first openly gay business association. By uniting gay bar owners, bartenders, and allies, the Guild provided a new platform for political action to combat law enforcement (Agee, 2006, p.480). They would document police harassment and shared legal tips.

The Council on Religion and the Homosexual (CRH) held a party on New Year's Day at California Hall in 1965, which was another turning point. The purpose of this gathering was to raise money and foster unity. However, the SFPD considered it to be dangerous and attempted to scare guests on the night of the event, surrounding the venue with floodlights and taking pictures of attendees upon arrival. (Agee, 2006, p. 486). Still, hundreds of people showed up despite the fear. Police forcefully entered the building and took several lawyers and visitors into custody. The trial, presided over by Judge Leo Friedman, ended in a surprising not-guilty verdict. Friedman called the police out for their abuse of power and false allegations (Agee, 2006, p. 487-488). This case raised much-needed legal awareness of police abuse toward queer people.

In the late 1960s, the strength of the gay rights movement in San Francisco had grown substantially. In Addition, more bar owners started to rebel legally, and the Guild grew its membership (Agee, 2006, p. 488). Also, organizations such as Citizens Alert arose, and began closely examining and monitoring police behavior, creating hotline services (Agee, 2006, p.488). Importantly, the conversations around gay life began to change, as they gained political attention. Gay business normals were not seen as abnormal or “dangerous,” and were viewed as civil rights activists. But the fight was near being over. Chief Cahill tried instead to use the Alcoholic Beverage Control and raided gay bars resulting in them having to close and lose their license (Agee, 2006, p.487). However, gay bar owners reopened with new licenses and looked for improved ways to get around, resisting with more force each time (Agee, 2006, p.480). By the time 1966 came around the relationship between the police and the bar went through three phases. It started with the organized shakedown of Gayola, then discretionary corruption, and finally moved on to the centralized implementation of post-Gayola policing (Agee, 2006, p.489).

The Gayola Scandal became more than just about bribes, it involved justice, power, and the fight to be seen. It demonstrated how oppressed groups like LGBTQ could change corrupt systems while being targeted by them. The scandal also reflects larger political dynamics in the US such as urban policing, Cold War paranoia, and moral panics that characterized mid-century governance (Wikipedia, 2024; Mortell,2023). Above all, Gayola paved the way for subsequent LGBTQ rights victories. The queer community in San Francisco turned police harassment into a focal point for reform by transforming personal injustice into public resistance.

Notes

1. Agee, C. ( September 2006). Gayola: Police Professionalization and the Politics of San Francisco’s Gay Bars, 1950-1968. EBSCO. (pg 462-489)

2. Carlsson, C. (n.d.). Gay History and Politics in the Tenderloin. Foundsf.org

3. Mortell, J. (2023, June 21). The 1960s. SF Gay History.

4. Place, T. (2024, August 17). Miles Davis’s “so what”, police corruption and queer resistance in the United States. Time and Place.

5. Wikimedia Foundation. (2024, September 23). Gayola.

6. Agee, C. L. (2014, March 31). 3. Gayola: Gay-bar politics, police corruption, and sexual pluralism. De Gruyter Brill. (pg 73-108)