If you haven't read it yet, you must check out the oral history of the Wildrose that Sydney Brownstone put together, full of memories from the butch women, bull dykes, femme dykes, trans and non-binary folks, and other people who've frequented the bar over the years; plus memories from the people who run the place; plus (hilariously) one- and two-star Yelp reviews from men.

The piece prompted a letter to the editor yesterday from someone who adds that she remembers the early years mainly for their political activism:

I was excited to see the history of the Wildrose profiled in your June 21 “Queer issue,” but as an old Seattle dyke who attended the Wildrose’s grand opening on New Year’s Eve 1984-5, I’d like to add my perspective on the early years. With all due respect to Tara and Bianca, I was surprised to see memories of the Rose of the 1980s dominated by complaints about men not feeling welcome there. I’d be more inclined to focus on the important role of the Rose as a vibrant women’s space (where men were regularly present) that was not only a “gay girls bar,” but a community gathering place owned by a collective of dykes, rather than by capitalists making money off of us. The Rose hosted talent shows, concerts, performances, and a number of political events. Bryher Herak, one of the owners, was always willing to let our group, Dyke Community Activists, use the space on Sunday morning for forums such as “A Women’s World of Views on the Iraq War,” where women packed the bar to hear women from Lebanon and Iran share their perspective as G.H.W. Bush was dragging us into the first Iraq War.

The Rose meant a lot to us as a dyke community. That women’s community, and the strong sense of women’s identity that emerged during the '70s and '80s, introduced much of the androgynous sensibility and multi-issue political inclusiveness that underlies queer politics today.

Tina Gianoulis

Go read all the other memories over here. And go do karaoke at the Wildrose tonight.