14 OCTOBER 19-25, 2023 westword.com WESTWORD | MUSIC | CAFE | CULTURE | NIGHT+DAY | LETTERS | CONTENTS | to create new ways for LGBT people to live their lives openly and without discrimina- tion — to substitute pride for shame. Some bar owners felt threatened by this line of thinking, some felt indifferent, and others opened their doors to groups rais- ing money for various charities. Why not? People coming in to support a cause would also buy drinks. Often, the entertainment at a fundraising event — usually a drag show — wouldn’t get underway for an hour or more after the advertised start time so that patrons would buy more drinks while waiting. Young wasn’t known as a major donor to lesbian and gay causes, but Olson says that he was generous in other ways — helping an employee or a customer with rent, or bailing patrons out of jail. Sunday afternoon charity beer busts were popular — and from a busi- ness perspective, a shrewd marketing tactic to attract new regulars. Young rolled out the red carpet for fraternal groups, especially the Rocky Mountaineers Motorcycle Club — for many years the oldest gay organization in Colorado, running from 1969 to 2014. The RMMC made him an honorary member. He even made an exception to his no-women policy by welcoming the short-lived lesbian motorcycle club Free Spirit in the late 1970s. Pressure from the Denver vice squad evaporated in 1983 with the election of pro- gay mayor Federico Peña and a mandate from his new Department of Public Safety head to back off on harassment of gay bars and their patrons. That was the good news. The bad news was that AIDS was now making major inroads into Denver’s gay male community. Employees and loyal patrons of gay bars were among Denver’s earliest diagnosed cases. Before long, gay bars, including the Triangle, collaborated to mount fundraisers to support AIDS organizations. But there was a disconnect between how budding AIDS service organizations wanted to use charitable dollars and the expectations of many of those raising the funds. Commu- nity organizers saw the need to develop a service infrastructure for people with AIDS (PWAs) and prevention programs to stop its spread. Many of those raising funds in the bars thought money should go directly into the pockets of PWAs who were too sick to keep working or maybe needed extra cash to fl y home one last time. The AIDS epidemic wrung many Denver gay bars dry. The freewheeling years of sexual liberation morphed into a morose era of grief and loss. Many sexually active gay men settled into relationships and stayed home. Others stopped having sex altogether. Hundreds died every year, with the death count growing each year until it peaked in 1995, when effective antiviral treatments fi rst became available. Seaton found the love of his life at the Triangle in the nick of time; he met David Rowe in the upstairs bar. “I didn’t know it then, but my carousing days were over. I think there was something more to David’s and my meeting than just another night at the bar,” he says. “Maybe just dumb luck.” Seaton and Rowe, now retired and living in the mountains, will celebrate their 41st anniversary in November. Things didn’t turn out as well for Olson. After fl ying into Stapleton Airport (just a ten-minute drive to downtown) on one trip, he headed straight for the Triangle. He kept circling the bar, glancing repeatedly at one young man who, at last call, demanded, “Well, are you going to take me home or not?” Olson replied, “Yes, I am.” A couple weeks later, Lee Bacus, a recent college grad, moved in with Olson. The couple spent 24 years together until Bacus succumbed to AIDS in January 1996 — around the time that antiviral therapies began saving lives. Don Young’s Triangle collapsed thirty years ago. Since its 1973 opening, it had hosted several generations of LGBTQ patrons. For most of its fi rst two decades, the T was strictly a men’s bar. But by 1990, the bar could no longer legally discriminate on the basis of sex in public accommodations, thanks to Denver’s newly enacted human-rights ordinance. The comprehensive ordinance had been written and passed through the les- bian and gay advocacy organization EPOC, or Equal Protection Ordinance Coalition. That giant leap in civic progress, as well as the devastation of the AIDS epidemic and ever-changing perceptions about gender and sexuality, forecast the end of an era in Denver gay history. In the April 21, 1993, issue of Out Front, reporter Sam Gallegos revealed that Nevia, Inc., Young’s corporate holding company Hanky Panky continued from page 12 The infamous Out Front ad.
