Today, Oak Lawn is one of Dallas' most recognizable neighborhoods, where restaurants, bars, and community institutions line Cedar Springs Road.
But Robert Emery, LGBTQ historian and founder of The Dallas Way, says the neighborhood's rise was neither planned nor inevitable.
When asked to point to when Oak Lawn became the "gayborhood", Emery says there wasn't a particular year the neighborhood sprung up — but he points to 1973, when Richard Longstaff opened Union Jack, a clothing store catering to gay men and the first of its kind in Dallas.
The store initially opened near SMU, but relocated to Oak Lawn.
"He moved it into really a sketchy neighborhood where nothing was," Emery says, which was not an uncommon practice.
"The urban pioneers of the LGBTQ community have always gathered in neighborhoods where most people would not go," Emery said. "They zhuzh it up. It becomes vibrant with restaurants and retail and social organizations, sometimes to the point where it's gentrified, where we can no longer afford the real estate."
As Oak Lawn began to emerge as ‘the gayborhood’, the queer community in Dallas was gaining visibility.
"For many in our community, things are better," Emery says. "For some in our community, things are still difficult. Those two realities do not cancel each other out. They sit side by side."
In 1972, just three years after the Stonewall uprising in New York City, Dallas held its first Pride march.
"[It was] a ragtag group of a mere 30 people gathered at what is now the JFK Memorial on Main Street," Emery said. "Thirty unbelievably courageous people stared down Main Street, lined with 3,000 people, not all of whom were there to support them."
As the march moved toward City Hall, something remarkable happened.
"LGBT people who had stood on the sidelines, literally and figuratively, were inspired to join the parade," Emery says. "They stepped out from the shadows and the sidelines, and they joined in the parade so that the 30 grew to 300 people by the time they reached City Hall."
The next parade would come a decade later, in the Oak Lawn neighborhood, which by then had become the center of community life.
"By 1980 and 1982, Cedar Springs was now lined with businesses and bars and restaurants and retail," Emery said. "So in that 10 years, that's when it made its transition."
But that growing sense of community would soon be tested by the AIDS epidemic. While the crisis brought devastating loss, it also forged institutions that continue to shape Dallas today.
At the intersection of Cedar Springs Road and Throckmorton Street, Emery recalls a business that was far more than a store.
Crossroads Market became a "default community center" where local organizations were given space to gather and share resources.
"From tragedy comes great victory," Emery says. "People took care of each other. There was a food bank created that fed people. There were clinics. There were huge support systems built."
"If AIDS brought us together, then nothing — absolutely nothing — can stop us."
One symbol of that growing visibility arrived in 1982 when JR's Bar & Grill opened on Cedar Springs.
"It was the first bar anyone had ever seen that had windows in it," Emery says.
For those outside the LGBTQ community, that may not sound significant. But for queer folk in Dallas at the time, it was transformative.
"To walk into a bar where you could both see in and see out was unbelievably liberating," he said.
And that visibility only continued to grow.
"What followed were bars with swimming pools and beach volleyball," Emery says. "What followed after that were bars with balconies that faced outward."
"LGBTQ people standing in the sunlight, in the broad daylight, on a balcony that anyone driving by could see them — that was unheard of," he said.
Today, Oak Lawn remains a gathering place, but its role has evolved.
"For many in our community, things are better," Emery says. "For some in our community, things are still difficult. Those two realities do not cancel each other out. They sit side by side."
Despite today's political tensions, Emery remains optimistic.
"It won't quiet anyone, it only brings resolve," he says. "It only makes us stronger."
"If AIDS brought us together," Emery said, "Then nothing, absolutely nothing, can stop us."
Ron Corning is a co-host of KERA's NTX Now. Got a tip? Email Ron at rcorning@kera.org.
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