Plenty of locals—straight
and gay—were outraged too. Ilaeka Villa, who had lived in
Spring City for four years (and whose family had lived there for
30) called for the commissioners' resignation and started a recall
petition.
Other human rights and gay activists around the country started
hearing about the Rhea County debacle and it wasn’t long
before they connected with locals, and a week after the commission
meeting, plans were announced for a gay pride day in Dayton.
Kristi Bacon, a lesbian who had moved to Rhea County six months
prior, got involved in organizing the festival. Until May 8 of
last year, no one really knew what to expect. There were rumors
that Ellen DeGeneres and Rosie O’Donnell would show up.
There was also fear that gay-bashers would violently strike
back. There were rumors of fund-raisers in nearby towns to provide
bail money for anyone arrested disrupting the event.
June Griffin, a zealous fundamentalist Christian who lives in
Rhea County, was one cause of concern. She’d been a vocal
antagonist to many left-wing activist groups. Her organization,
Citizen-Soldiers for the Atomic Bomb, sent a press release out
about the anti-nuclear group Oak Ridge Environmental Peace Alliance,
that read “we pray for their untimely deaths.”
In appearance, Dayton doesn’t rank all
that high on the hick scale. On the outskirts of town, there’s
a typical sprawling strip of fast-food restaurants, gas stations
and a Wal-Mart. Several antique shops and homegrown restaurants
clutter the main drag downtown, where there’s a quaint folksiness
that would appeal to tourists and yuppies from the big city.
Walk into Brad Putt’s music shop across the street from
the historic courthouse and you might hear the Sex Pistols, Radiohead,
Esquivel or The Darkness playing on the stereo, and kids from
the local rock bands drop by. When people were holding protest
and apocalyptic signs across the street, Putt stood outside his
shop with one that read “Buy A Guitar.”
Everyone was sick of the media, and it was hard to find anyone
who hadn’t been interviewed a couple of times. CNN, the
L.A. Times, and several foreign journalists had all been to town.
Putt had been interviewed four or five times. “They want
me to say something mean,” he said of reporters.
A few journalists had also visited the Eagle Nest Barbershop
across from the courthouse. The barber snipped away an older man’s
hair, while another waited his turn with his wife. A piece of
wood with the name “Bobby Beard” carved into it sits
on the mirror. “I don’t know where he’s at.
I was waiting here for a haircut myself,” the barber joked,
never saying whether he’s Beard.