The Manhattan Club, Austin’s First Gay-Friendly Public Space

By Amber Leigh Hullum and Railey Tassin, Public History Graduate Students at Texas State University. This article is based on an application for a historical marker for the Manhattan Club, Austin, Texas. 

 

The Manhattan. Click to enlarge. Copyright Austin History Center. PICH-01461

 

"Only through personal recollections can stories of sites like the Manhattan Club be preserved and remembered."

Queer culture in the United States prior to the 1969 Stonewall Uprising and subsequent visibility of the Gay Liberation movement is often regarded by many as being non-existent. However, rather than a lack of presence of LQBTQ+ individuals, the proliferation of repressive policies and nationwide public debates on homosexuality in the post-World War II period kept them invisible, forcing queer communities underground in order to survive. Historians have struggled to reconstruct the lives of queer individuals before 1969, as discretion entailed leaving little to no incriminating evidence. Only through personal recollections can stories of sites like the Manhattan Club—Austin, Texas’ first documented gay bar—be preserved and remembered.

The 1950s marked a period of significant change in American culture, with the advent of rock and roll, television, and post-war financial prosperity offering more opportunities for entertainment and consumption than ever before. The growing availability of automobiles allowed for more freedom of mobility, especially for American youth. The increase in knowledge of contraceptive methods for women also furthered changes in heterosexual relationships, making them more open, sexual, and visible.[1] However, this increased visibility affected LGBTQ+ individuals as well, making them susceptible to increased criticism and policing.

The Cold War cloaked the country in a state of suspicion and mistrust, where anyone viewed as subversive was in danger of being labelled as immoral, un-American, and a threat to democracy. The Lavender Scare, a period of moral panic over homosexuality, occurred parallel to the anti-communist Red Scare; both campaigns that sought to root out non-conforming citizens normalized the legal persecution of gay and lesbian individuals. The Lavender Scare specifically targeted queer individuals within government, forcing them out of their jobs and making them vulnerable to widespread ridicule and discrimination. “From the mid-1940s into the late 1960s,” argues historian Margot Canaday, the United States government “crafted tools to overtly target homosexuality.”[2] In 1950, forty-eight U.S. states classified sodomy as a felony; in most cities, police invoked laws against public lewdness, vagrancy, and solicitation in order to enforce criminality upon LGBTQ+ individuals who were simply existing in public.[3] In Texas, it was not until Lawrence v. Texas in 2003 that the same-sex anti-sodomy law was finally struck down.[4] Medical laws labeling individuals as “sexual psychopaths” in the 1940s through 1960s added another mechanism of control through which queer people could be defined as “Other” and become targets of discrimination. Seen as a psychological malady, “homosexuality” became a victim of heavy censorship in mass media, relating it to obscenity and immorality.[5] Indeed, American Psychiatric Association classified homosexuality as a mental illness until 1973.[6] These harmful notions were later discredited, yet at the time, such beliefs forced most queer Americans to remain discrete, closeted, and isolated as a form of social protection.

Queer culture in the U.S. South during the 1940s through 1960s is harder to pin down than more urban centers at the time, such as New York City or San Francisco, due to the more rural, conservative culture and harsher laws. Journalists and historians have noted the sizeable population of Austinites who identified as LGBTQ+ before 1970, yet doing so was an extremely private affair due to the ever-looming threat of losing one’s job, university enrollment, or public status. Throughout the late 1950s through early 1970s, Austin was home to only a handful of gay bars, including the Cabaret (Guadalupe and 32^nd), the Red River Lounge (900 Red River), Pearl Street Warehouse (17^th and Lavaca), and The Apartment (29^th and Rio Grande), all of which are now closed. Of these, the Manhattan Club at 911 Congress Avenue was the first documented gay-friendly social outlet.[7]

One of the Manhattan’s most notable patrons was national gay activist Randolfe “Randy” Wicker, known for leading the first public gay rights picket to protest military discrimination at the New York City U.S. Army Induction Center in 1964.[8] Wicker became a national figure during the Gay Liberation movement and Stonewall Riots, along with other notable gay-rights advocates such as his former housemate, the iconic transgender activist Marsha P. Johnson. 

Randy Wicker. Photo by Elvert Barnes from Flickr, Creative Commons license CC BY-SA 2.0

Wicker has participated in several interviews during his time as an activist, describing the culture of Austin and the University of Texas during the 1950s and 1960s. In an email to the authors, Wicker stated that “If the deans heard you were homosexual, you’d be called into the office and given three choices: (1) withdraw from school within 3 days with nothing on your record; (2) take a lie detector test from the Texas Rangers to prove your innocence; (3) be dismissed from school with the accusation on your record.”[9] Because of the consequences of being openly gay, most queer gatherings occurred at private residences, yet he was able to confirm the existence of at least one gay-friendly restaurant with a small gay bar located in a backroom, the Manhattan Club. According to historian Brett Beemyn, gay-friendly bars and restaurants were “important sites for people interested in same-sex sexual relationships to meet and to develop a sense of shared experience,” offering a rare chance to truly be oneself in a public setting during these oppressing decades.[10]

The 1950s was a contradictory period for many queer communities. Although homosexuality was widely condemned publicly and pressure to remain isolated and invisible was high, these public discussions broke the silence on the topic, allowing for the growth of a strong group consciousness for LGBTQ+ people. This historical context – of the persistent organization and socialization of queer individuals in the face of national, legalized repression and discrimination – describes the environment in which the Manhattan Club, located surreptitiously in the backroom of Congress Avenue’s Manhattan Restaurant, would have operated in Austin throughout the late 1950s and mid-1970s. 

 

"A small, cozy bar space, welcoming to any who entered. This was the Manhattan Club."

Visit the Manhattan Restaurant and Deli at 911 Congress Avenue anytime during the period of 1957 to 1969, walk straight through the main dining area to a small backroom, and you would be greeted with a small, cozy bar space, welcoming to any who entered. This was the Manhattan Club—Austin, Texas’ earliest documented gay bar. Although no official sources document the advertisement of the space for this purpose, several witnesses have verified the Manhattan Club as a gay-friendly establishment in Austin throughout these years.  The small storefront of the Manhattan blended into the scene of commercial storefronts, passing vehicles, and wandering pedestrians on the ever-bustling Congress Avenue.

David and Florence “Flo” Robbins moved to Austin, Texas from New York City after World War Two, opening Dinty Moore’s Café and Bar at 123 West 6^th Street in 1947.[11] The establishment was known as “one of the most fun spots Austin ever had” by patrons, being packed to the brim on any average night.[12] A favorite joint for local students at the University of Texas, Dinty’s was also known for being a remarkably safe location, with bar fights or unruly patrons practically non-existent. The Robbins gained a reputation as welcoming, fun-loving business owners which would undoubtedly continue to their subsequent establishments after Dinty Moore’s closing.

After the building’s demolition in 1950, the Robbins moved to a new location, becoming owners of The Manhattan at 905 Congress Ave. From 1952 to 1957, The Manhattan operated in this building, serving up an array of kosher foods to its loyal customers.[13] The Robbins were natives of the East Coast and patterned their new restaurant after the delicatessens common back home. The grand opening advertisement proclaimed luxurious lounge booths, delicatessen and kosher-style food, the best American and Imported table wines, and nightly music and entertainment.[14] For unknown reasons, the Robbins then moved several doors down to 911 Congress Avenue, having a grand opening on June 23^rd, 1957 for their new updated establishment -- what they deemed “Austin’s only modern Delicatessen restaurant”.[15] The Manhattan Restaurant expanded in this new location, now offering three separate menus of Kosher dishes, char-broiled steaks, and Mexican food in the restaurant, soft drinks and beer at the bar area, and a wide array of take-away foods at the Kosher Delicatessen.

This new location did not advertise music or entertainment, possibly because the center of action had now moved to a small bar located at the back of the restaurant. This backroom was known to the LGBTQ+ community of Austin as the Manhattan Club, one of the only public places where queer individuals could gather and socialize outside of their homes. In an interview with the Austin American-Statesman in 2018, activist Randy Wicker described his memories of visiting the Manhattan Club: “You walked right through the restaurant. The back room was very small. It held maybe 18 people. You knew everybody there, except on [University of Texas] game days, when it would fill up and there would be some fresh faces.”[16] The irony of this openly queer space run by Jewish immigrants in close proximity to the state capitol of conservative-heavy 1950s Texas should not be lost on the reader.

            David Robbins suffered a fatal heart attack at the unfortunate age of 61. After his passing, Flo Robbins lost her lease at 911 Congress Avenue, refusing to accept assistance in relocating.[17] Perhaps Flo could not imagine a Manhattan Restaurant that did not include the vivacious and welcoming personality of her husband, David. The Manhattan closed its doors in 1969, and the building located at 911 Congress stands vacant today. Nevertheless, The Manhattan Restaurant, with the small Manhattan Club located in back, maintains its legacy as one of the few gay-friendly spaces for the Austin queer community during the late 1950s and 1960s. (Austin American-Statesman · 23 Feb 1969, Sun · Page 4)(Austin American-Statesman · 31 May 1969, Sat · Page 1).

 

Historical Significance

When the Manhattan first opened in 1957, the ethos surrounding same-sex desires very much resembled the later belief of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” The pervading homophobia in American culture at that time often incited queer people to internalize the negative descriptions and stereotypes attributed to their same-sex desires. Even as recently as 1986, the United States Supreme Court ruled that homosexuality was “an abominable crime not fit to be named.”[18] LGBTQ+ Americans were not recognized as a minority group before the 1970s, which exacerbated the social and political isolation of LGBTQ+ communities.

By both allowing and welcoming queer patrons, the Manhattan Club served as the first public space for queer Austinites to gather and socialize without fear of ridicule or violence because of their sexuality.  It should be noted that at this time, gay-friendly spaces—including the Manhattan Club—catered mostly to gay and lesbian patrons, but particularly gay men. Nonetheless, the Manhattan encouraged queer people to enjoy the company of one another, to network with fellow queer Austinites, and to freely act upon their sexuality without immediate repercussions. In a society that scorned these individuals for simply existing, this small bar on Congress Avenue became a safe haven. Gay-friendly spaces such as the Manhattan helped to establish a widespread queer consciousness across America, bolstered by the fact that LGBTQ+ people can be found within every race, class, age, and sex.  This queer consciousness led the establishment of gay and lesbian educational organizations such as the Mattachine Society in 1952 and the Daughters of Bilitis in 1955.[19] Organizations such as these advocated for the decriminalization of homosexuality and the declassification of homosexuality as a mental illness-- both of which politically and socially targeted gay and lesbian Americans at this time. The queer consciousness harbored during the 1950s and 1960s helped built up to the Stonewall Riots and the Gay Liberation Movement just a few years later.

Many Southerners feared the political organization of LGBTQ+ people during the 1950s and 1960s because they often associated homosexuality with the dismantling of Jim Crow. For those who wished to uphold racial hierarchies, queer people posed a threat. These Southern fears stemmed from the common alliances between civil rights activists and queer activists at the time, who used the platforms and powers of one another to help their causes.[20] Having public spaces such as the Manhattan Club to interact and socialize with one another allowed for these types of alliances, giving a stronger voice to political minority groups of the 1950s and 1960s.

The Manhattan Club was Austin’s first gay-friendly club, though it would not be the last. Because if its success, other gay clubs around Austin began to pop up, welcoming the increasingly public crowds of LGBTQ+ patrons. According to historian Eric Jason Ganther, by the late 1960s, Austin had an “underground network of socially active homosexuals.”[21] Although they could not be entirely open about their lives, LGBTQ+ individuals in Texas could find solace in one another and their shared experiences during this time. It would be several decades before the queer community across the States would get legal protections and rights. Milestone court cases and social movements for gay rights that would occur across the following decades can all find roots in gay clubs like the Manhattan which brought sexuality and queer people into a public social arena.

While widespread queer theory originated in the 1990s, there is little recognition or celebration of queer history and accomplishments outside of academia today. Even on the Texas Historical Commission’s list of potential themes for undertold stories that can apply for a historical marker, LGBTQ+ is not listed. After decades of being forced to hide their true selves, queer individuals deserve to know their community’s history, contributions, struggles, and successes. A small room in the back of a restaurant that served as the first documented safe space for gay Austinites aptly metaphorizes the closet for many LGBTQ+ individuals. The Manhattan Club may no longer exist, but its history and legacy ought to be remembered and celebrated.

 

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[1] Pete Daniel, Lost Revolutions: The South in the 1950s, (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2000), 154.


[2] Margot Canaday, The Straight State: Sexuality and Citizenship in Twentieth-Century America (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2011), 3.


[3] John D’Emilio, Sexual Politics, Sexual Communities: The Making of a Homosexual Minority in the United States, 1940-1970, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983), 14.


[4] Richard Weinmeyer, “The Decriminalization of Sodomy in the United States,” AMA Journal of Ethics 16, no.11 (2014): 916-922.


[5] D’Emilio, Sexual Politics, Sexual Communities, 18.


Jack Drescher, “Out of DSM: Depathologizing Homosexuality,” Behavioral Sciences (Basel, Switzerland) vol. 5, 4: (December 2015) doi: 10.3390/bs5040565.


[7] Eric Jason Ganther, “From Closet to Crusade: The Struggle for Lesbian-Gay Civil Rights in Austin, Texas, 1970-1982,” MA Thesis, (University of Houston, 1990), 30. 

[8] Sadie Bargeron, “‘Having Marsha P Johnson for a Roommate Was the Greatest Blessing in my Life,’” Vogue (June 2020) https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/randy-wicker.


[9] Randolphe “Randy” Wicker, email correspondence with authors, March 27, 2021.


[10] Brett Beemyn, ed., Creating a Place for Ourselves: Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Community Histories, (New York: Routledge, 1997), 3.


[11] Morrison and Fourmy Directory Co., (1952-1957), "U.S. City Directories, 1821-1989", Austin, Texas, ancestryheritagequest.com.(https://www.ancestryheritagequest.com/imageviewer/collections/2469/images/4804257?usePUB=true&_phsrc=bKB16&_phstart=successSource&usePUBJs=true&pId=382412499, accessed 22 March 2021).


[12] Nat Henderson, "An Austin ’Institution’: His Name was Dave Robbins, But Middle Name Was ’Fun’,” The Austin Statesman, February 23, 1969.


[13] Morrison and Fourmy Directory Co., (1952-1957), "U.S. City Directories, 1821-1989", Austin, Texas, ancestryheritagequest.com.


[14] The Manhattan, "A Gala Event for Austin," advertisement, The Austin Statesman, August 22, 1952.


[15] The Manhattan Restaurant, “Grand Opening of The Manhattan Restaurant,” advertisement, The Austin American Statesman, June 23, 1957.


[16] Michael Barnes, "Stonewall’s Ripple Through LGBTQ Austin," The Austin American-Statesman, June 27, 2019.


[17] ”Bugles and Violins,” Manhattan Deli and Club, LGBTQ+ Collection, Austin History Center Archives, Austin, Texas. Also Austin American-Statesman (Austin, Texas) · 31 May 1969, Sat · Page 1


[18] Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U.S. 186 (1986).


[19] John D’Emilio, Sexual Politics, Sexual Communities: The Making of a Homosexual Minority in the United States, 1940-1970 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983).


[20] John Howard, Men Like That: A Southern Queer History (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999).


[21] Ganther, "From Closet to Crusade: The Struggle for Lesbian-Gay Civil Rights in Austin, Texas, 1970-1982.”