Will Party Show Up for the Party?

It’s not as though gay Californians are the toast of the town. Surely many of them still have moments when they feel the force of petty slights or subtle discrimination -- and either react to them or bury the hurt a little deeper in their souls.

But, hey, compared with just a generation ago, it’s party time.

Just ask Frank Ricchiazzi, as much a pioneer as Orange County has had in the last 20 years. As the political director of the county’s Log Cabin Club -- a group of openly gay Republicans trying to get their party to be more responsive to gay issues -- Ricchiazzi has walked the walk when the path wasn’t that clearly marked.

“The young people today in the gay community, when you sit down and tell them what was going on, it’s beyond their comprehension,” he says. “You’re talking a different language.”

Older gay people (Ricchiazzi is 57) remember a time when people didn’t even bother to mask their contempt. One of those moments, a mere 25 years ago but ancient history to gay whippersnappers today, is the reason I’m talking to Ricchiazzi this week.

It was 1978, and Orange County state Sen. John Briggs sponsored an initiative that, in so many words, authorized school boards to fire or refuse to hire gay teachers or administrators.

“A number of us said, ‘We can’t tolerate this,’ ” Ricchiazzi recalls. But unlike some other protest groups, gays risked mortal danger by going public.

“In 1977,” Ricchiazzi says, “you were afraid to go anywhere where there was a congregation of gay people, because police would come and say, ‘You, you and you,’ and bring you to the police station for illicit conduct, even when it wasn’t the case. I was living in L.A. then, and you had professional people -- doctors, dentists, attorneys, people in high-visibility positions -- who were living two lives for fear if anyone found out they were gay, they’d lose everything they had.”

Californians, thanks in part to former Gov. Ronald Reagan’s opposition, beat back the Briggs initiative. From the fire of that battle, gay Republicans formed the Log Cabin Club in Los Angeles with nine charter members. An Orange County chapter followed in 1984.

Saturday night in Los Angeles, the club that now boasts 1,000 members in the state will honor Ricchiazzi and another man, Chris Bowman of San Francisco, for their long-standing commitment to the cause. The evening is being billed as the club’s silver anniversary.

“It’s been a long road,” Ricchiazzi said from his Laguna Beach home, “a very long road. But a very proud road.”

Ricchiazzi moved to Orange County in 1988 and found himself in the same party but different planet from anti-gay stalwarts like then-Congressman Bob Dornan and the Rev. Lou Sheldon of the Traditional Values Coalition.

Though Log Cabin members could talk economics and foreign policy and bash Democrats with the best of conservative Republicans, they couldn’t tolerate the strain of anti-gay rhetoric that infected some party regulars.

Despite much progress, that split still exists.

“Saturday night will be a demonstration of where the state GOP is going,” he says, meaning the club is waiting to see if party power brokers pay proper homage.

“Are you Republican leaders going to be intimidated by the Lou Sheldons and the Christian Coalition, or are you finally going to show people in the state you’re going to stand up for equality?”

It’s an open question.

The answer, Ricchiazzi suggests, will tell the next generation of gay Republicans how many more roads remain to be walked.

*

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.