fourteenWhen Robin worked at the bank in San Bernardino, and Mac was still a hospital orderly in Vietnam, the City’s Castro District became an oasis for gay life. The ultra-liberal inclinations of the hippie movement and its acceptance of taboo s****l practices, drew gay males, first, to the dancing-electric Haight-Ashbury. Later, when drugs turned the Haight acidic, the gays went “over the hill” to the Castro district, and the Castro was reborn, shaped into something new and vibrant.
Now, hole in the wall cafes boiled over with business. Piroshkis. Pizza. Chinese takeout. Cool cocktails, diffuse light and warm bodies filled the bars: Twin Peaks, Midnight Sun, Elephant Walk and Moby d**k. The marquee on the Castro Theater, a movie palace of the old school, read “Coming Soon: A Tribute to
