In the vibrant history of Washington D.C.'s LGBTQ+ community, certain spaces transcend mere brick and mortar, becoming symbols of resilience, celebration, and progress. Among these hallowed grounds, the Lost & Found stands tall. But what made this bar so special? Why does it still resonate with so many who remember its heyday?
The story of the Lost & Found begins with Donn Culver and Bill Bickford, a dynamic duo with a knack for creating spaces that people wanted to be in. After their success with The Pier, a popular club in Southwest D.C., they set their sights on a new venture. On October 7th, 1977, the Lost & Found opened its doors at 56 L Street SE, promising a fresh and exciting experience.
Imagine the scene: a club decked out in striking black and mandarin orange, accented with chrome yellow. But more than just aesthetics, the Lost & Found aimed to be a hub for creativity and performance. Fanny Brice, a prominent figure from the Henry Street drag house, took the reins as the club's first production director, orchestrating dazzling shows and special events.
The path wasn't always smooth. The Lost & Found faced early criticism regarding its admissions policy, which some perceived as exclusionary towards African-Americans, women, and individuals in drag. This sparked protests and discussions with the owners, highlighting the ongoing struggle for inclusivity within the LGBTQ+ community itself. Two years before D.C. passed its human rights law, Title 34, the Committee for Open Gay Bars picketed the location.
What happened next? After months of picketing and discussion with ownership, a compromise was reached regarding the club's admission policies, even if customers in drag were still excluded. Despite the rough start, the Lost & Found quickly became a beloved institution.
Within a year, the Lost & Found was thriving. Spectacular shows became a hallmark, and the club even snagged the grand prize for its float in the Mardi Gras parade. Sunday brunches and tea dances were legendary, offering a space for connection and camaraderie. In the late 70s, the Lost and Found was the place to be seen.
The Lost & Found was more than just a place to dance; it was a vital part of the queer community in the District. As mentioned by Denny Lyon, the Lost and Found was the first gay bar he ever went to in a major city.
The story takes a tragic turn with the untimely death of Donn Culver, who fell from the club's roof in the summer of 1984 while preparing decorations for the Gay Pride festival. This loss deeply impacted the community, but the Lost & Found persevered, continuing to serve as a gathering place.
Bill Bickford later went on to contribute to the creation of Remington's club on Pennsylvania Ave. SE, further solidifying his influence on D.C.'s LGBTQ+ nightlife. The Lost & Found itself underwent a transformation, briefly becoming Quorum before reverting to its original name, ultimately remaining a fixture for 27 years.
The Lost & Found's story is intertwined with the broader history of the LGBTQ+ community in Washington D.C. Before spaces like the Lost & Found existed, the community faced significant discrimination and challenges.
As the LGBTQ+ rights movement gained momentum, more spaces emerged, offering not just entertainment but also vital support and community. Bookstores like Lambda Rising and Lammas became hubs for activism and connection.
The 1980s brought new challenges, including incidents of violence and discrimination. Some bars, like Equus (later Remington's), faced harassment and even attacks. The AIDS crisis cast a long shadow, further marginalizing the community. Even the MPD was criticized during a raid of the gay bar Cheers, when they donned "surgical masks and rubber gloves" for fear of contracting AIDS.
Over time, attitudes began to shift. Same-sex sexual activity was finally decriminalized in D.C. The decline of LGBT-specific spaces paralleled the greater acceptance of the LGBT community in general. Same-sex domestic partnerships were recognized, and eventually, same-sex marriage was legalized.
Today, the landscape is vastly different. Bars like Nellie's welcome diverse crowds, and many establishments embrace the LGBTQ+ community without explicitly identifying as "gay bars."
The Lost & Found may be gone, but its impact remains. It represents a time when LGBTQ+ spaces were essential for survival, community building, and celebrating identity. It serves as a reminder of the struggles faced, the progress made, and the ongoing need for inclusivity and acceptance.
What do you remember most about the Lost & Found, or other iconic LGBTQ+ spaces in D.C.? Share your memories and help keep these important stories alive!