IT’S THE FINAL HOUR of the year 1966. In Hollywood, a radio deejay sets down the needle on the number eight song of the year. “I love the colorful clothes she wears/ And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair.” A few miles away, in Silverlake, things are hopping at the Black Cat. Colored balloons cover the ceiling. Boys dance with boys, the jukebox wails, and a couple of undercover cops play pool over in the corner. Six or seven additional plainclothes officers mill around in the crowd. At 11:30, a gaggle of glittering drag queens arrives in full-blown bouffants, sequins, and wobbly spiked heels. The bartender cranks up the Supremes’ “You Can’t Hurry Love.”
The Black Cat is one of about a dozen gay bars lining Sunset Boulevard in Silverlake, the heart of L.A.’s gay community in the 1960’s. Many are beer bars with jukeboxes, pool tables, and pinball machines, inhabiting rundown buildings where the rents were cheap.
It’s just a few minutes before midnight on New Year’s Eve at the Black Cat, and the Rhythm Queens, a trio of black women singers hired for the night, are getting ready for their big number. Suddenly,
Eve Goldberg is a writer and filmmaker who lives in northern California. She wishes to dedicate this piece to Stuart Timmons.
