AMERICAN SCARE
Florida’s Hidden Cold War on Black and Queer Lives
by Robert W. Fieseler
Dutton. 496 pages, $34.
THE CURRENT “War on Woke” is nothing new in Florida. Although many point to Anita Bryant’s 1977 “Save Our Children” campaign as its forerunner, the state’s attacks on the LGBT community began two decades earlier with the Florida Legislative Investigation Committee, popularly known as the “Johns Committee.” Active from 1956 to 1965 and initially headed by Charley E. Johns, a conservative “pork-chop” state senator from North Florida, the committee originally fought efforts at school integration by attempting to show that the civil rights movement was full of Communists. However, the U.S. Supreme Court ultimately denied the committee access to the membership records of the state’s naacp. Frustrated, in 1958 the committee turned toward investigating the presence of homosexuals in state universities and public schools. Like Communists, homosexuals were seen during that era of the “Lavender Scare” as a threat to “the American way of life.”
The activity of the Johns Committee in Florida’s schools and universities is an important part of the state’s queer history and has produced a wide range of studies, both academic and popular. Robert W. Fieseler’s new account, American Scare: Florida’s Hidden Cold War on Black and Queer Lives, both draws upon this work and adds important new dimensions and facts. In particular, he goes into greater depth about how the initial investigation into civil rights activities formed the context for the investigations into homosexuals. While the committee consisted of Florida state legislators, as Fieseler notes, most of the work was done by the committee’s investigators, who worked with a ruthless disregard for investigatory standards and the legal rights of witnesses. At first, the committee focused on homosexual activities at the state’s major universities. Students suspected of being homosexual, both men and women, were removed from their college classrooms, taken to off-campus motel rooms, and interrogated by the committee’s investigators. Sometimes the interrogations lasted up to ten hours. Those interrogated were not allowed lawyers or informed of their rights. College administrators cooperated with the committee, threatening to expel students who would not give names. The state legislature saw this work as important and in 1963 renewed the committee’s life for two more years and doubled its budget. More importantly, the committee’s staff began working on a report bringing together all the evidence they had collected about Florida’s homosexuals. They hoped this report would shock and outrage citizens across the state, leading to stricter laws against homosexuals and ensuring the committee’s life and funding. Titled “Homosexuality and Citizenship in Florida: A Report of the Florida Legislative Investigation Committee,” it sought to give an “objective” account of the homosexual problem that Florida faced. The report contained a summary of the Florida laws and sexual offenses, a “Glossary of Homosexual Terms and Deviate Acts” (“trade,” “queen,” “chicken,” “zoophilia,” “Pygmalionism”), and a “Bibliography on Sexual Deviations” including more than 350 scholarly articles and books. The report noted the various theories about the cause of homosexuality but concluded “that the Biblical description of homosexuality as an ‘abomination’ has stood well the test of time.” It stated flatly: “The homosexual’s goal and part of his satisfaction is to ‘bring over’ the young person, to hook him for homosexuality.” Although the report noted that people typically confuse the child molester and the homosexual, it said there was an important difference. It claimed that victims of child molestation typically get over it very quickly and lead a normal life. (In fact, sexually abused children often become abusers themselves.) In the case of the homosexual, according to the report, the child was “a victim, then an accomplice, and finally himself a perpetrator of homosexual acts.” The goal of the pamphlet was not only to “educate” the Florida citizenry about homosexuality but, more importantly, to “shock” them and mobilize popular support to control the homosexual threat. While the sensationalized text went some distance in accomplishing this, it was the photos taken from the committee’s files that quickly caught attention. Called the “Purple Pamphlet” because of the color of its cover, the title page used as its background a black-and-white photo of two men, naked to the waist, in a tight embrace and kissing on the mouth. Introducing the text was another full-page photo showing a nearly naked, blond teenage boy tied up in BDSM bondage. The report concluded with a full-page photo of a man receiving oral sex from another man in a bathroom stall. The report was released in early March 1964, with the staff director calling it “deliberately hard hitting” in order to impress the situation on the public. Two thousand copies were printed and made available for 25 cents from the governor’s office. It quickly drew public attention, but not the kind the committee had expected. Within a day of its release, legislators receiving copies called it “obscene” and “nauseating.” The Dade County state’s attorney banned the circulation of the report in the county, calling the pictures “obscene and pornographic.” The Miami Herald called it “Official Obscenity” that used taxpayers’ money to print pornography. It demanded the resignation of every state official involved. Soon the controversy over the report caused the committee to implode. The governor called for an end to the committee, saying it “serves no purpose whatsoever.” When the legislature met the following spring, they closed it down. Headlines such as “Goodbye, Johns Committee” and “Johns Committee: A Death Few Mourned” greeted its demise. Most of its 30,000 pages of documents and photographs were destroyed. A small remainder, heavily redacted, was boxed up and put in the State Archives, to be kept sealed for 72 years. However, in 1993, bowing to pressure from Florida historians and the LGBT community, the state legislature opened the committee’s records to researchers and the public. Over the last 30 years, at least four books, two documentary films, seven academic theses, and numerous academic and popular articles, book chapters, and YouTube videos were produced using the Johns Committee’s files. Fieseler’s is the most recent and perhaps the most complete account. The “Purple Pamphlet” had its own afterlife. When it was first published, only 750 copies were released, and the bulk were later destroyed amid the uproar. Fortunately, the Guild Press, a Washington, D.C., publishing house whose books and physique magazines catered almost exclusively to a gay male audience, sent a request to the governor’s office and received a copy of the report. It then printed 10,000 copies and sold the 25-cent report for $2. The director of the press noted that “sales in Florida are quite good.” Fred Fejes is director of the South Florida Queer History Project.
Then-Governor Farris Bryant commended the committee’s work for bringing the threat of homosexuals before the Florida public. In 1961, he directed the Florida Children’s Commission to work with the Johns Committee by focusing on public schools. Over the next two years, sixteen public meetings were held across the state. Those attending heard about how to recognize a homosexual and the danger they supposedly posed to school-age children. By 1963, the Johns Committee could boast of having caused the firing of 39 university professors and deans, as well as the revoking of teaching certificates for 71 public school teachers, all suspected or admitted homosexuals. Scores of students were interrogated and subsequently expelled from public colleges across the state.
