Andrews Inn
Photo by Jeremy Youst. Collection of Andrews Inn Oral History Project.
Photo by Evie Lovett
And there was there was a period when one of the local cops on the Bellows Falls PD broke up with his wife. And so she moved out, but she needed a way to make a living. And she ended up getting the job as the receptionist at the Andrews. So, you know, she'd be there behind the desk. And, you know, when he was out, he was trying to reconcile whether they weren't on terrible terms, they were just not getting along. So he would stop by and hang out by the desk. So walk into the Andrews and here's this local cop in full uniform, hanging out, chatting up the receptionist and all. I mean, you had those moments. There were places where the community intersected. You know, there was that night of the fire, there were moments when we seemed to be making progress.
Then there were moments when, you know, you'd look out at two o'clock in the morning as the bar was closing. You'd look out on Main Street and some drag queen is taking a whiz in the middle of the street and say, "Get her in here!", you know, because that didn't help community relations. There was one, one church group showed up from somewhere in New Hampshire, and it was fundamentalist church group, and took up, you know, lined up on the opposite side and started singing hymns. They were trying to save our souls. And of course, one of the drag queens just thought it was entertainment. So she's out there conducting, you know, (laughter) and the looks from those few people like—but, I don't know, the drag queen probably knew exactly what was going on and was just making fun of them. But, you know, there were those moments and, you know, there were really nasty moments when people were going by with loudspeakers in pickup trucks for, you know, the select board campaigns and, you know, "Get the queers out of Bellows Falls," and all that stuff was going on, you know.
So there were, there was definitely, there was there was both—there was moments when the community seemed to to accept in a positive way, to intersect in a positive way. And then there were also clearly unresolved and intense hostility. But it was it was a refuge, it was a place where—it was also a place where—I'm sorry, it's not there because I don't hang out in a lot of gay bars, you know. I don't even know what a gay bar is like anymore. I mean, we're talking about disco era. We did have a disco ball, you know? It was like Stayin’ Alive. You know, it was a way all those stupid anthems that were just lousy music. But, you know, so I don't have a lot of reason to cross paths with that group of people anymore. And I miss that because some outrageous stuff went on, and that was fun. It was fun to be wild and crazy and young and doing outrageous and, you know. Disruptive things. So it was a wild ride. It was. It was wild ride. A bunch of people that I will never replace in my life. — Fletcher Proctor