Charlie's Denver: A Gay Bar's Story

Rebecca Scofield: So, I'm here with John King, and the date is July 8th, 2017. We find ourselves in Denver at the Rocky Mountain Regional Rodeo. Could you please share your date of birth?

John King: Certainly, I was born on March the 6th, 1941.

RS: And where did you spend your formative years?

JK: I was raised on a farm located in southeastern Iowa.

RS: What were your parents' professions?

JK: My father was primarily engaged in farming, but he also managed an insurance agency. My mother, on the other hand, provided her services as a nurse receptionist within a doctor's practice.

RS: And did you have any siblings?

RS: Could you describe a typical day during your childhood and upbringing?

JK: An average day? Commencing around the age of 10, or perhaps 9, I was tasked with learning the art of milking cows. This entailed rising at 5 o'clock in the morning. From roughly age 10 to 18, when I departed for college, my father would awaken me almost every single day. After dressing, I would proceed outside to milk the cows, tend to the hogs and chickens, and manage all the other necessary chores to keep a farm operational.

RS: And how did you feel about school?

JK: Yes, for the most part, I found it enjoyable.

RS: What were your thoughts on college?

JK: Initially, I found school to be quite unpleasant. When they utilized aptitude tests and placed me in the engineering program, I discovered the nature of an engineer's work, and it simply didn't interest me. Consequently, I disliked school immensely. Furthermore, I was of draft age, so I withdrew from my studies and returned to work on the family farm. I enlisted in the service when I was nearing the age for conscription, choosing to work in the finance department as I found that work engaging. I've served as treasurer for nearly every organization I've been a part of, as I possess a strong understanding of financial matters. Upon completing my military service, I was certain I wanted to pursue a career in business. I achieved straight A's throughout my studies, thoroughly enjoyed my professors, relished our intellectual exchanges, and took pleasure in preparing challenging reports and developing cash flow concepts. So, to answer your question directly, it was 'no' at first, and then a resounding 'yes'.

RS: That's exactly what we're looking for. Was your military service particularly arduous?

JK: Not particularly for me, although the initial four months, being away from home, presented a challenge. Our family farm was situated forty-four miles from the University of Iowa. I would diligently save my laundry and then make the trip home every three weeks, where my mother would wash my clothes before I returned. Consequently, I didn't truly learn to be self-sufficient until I entered the service. The first three months were quite a shock. However, after that period, I had accumulated some savings [Phone beeps]… Excuse me, I'm not sure what that was intended to convey. My apologies, just one moment… Can you envision this? I have always been somewhat resistant to new technology; I genuinely don't know how to power on a computer. I possess approximately, to my knowledge, somewhere in the vicinity of fifty computers, ranging from Puerto Vallarta to Chicago, yet I'm unable to operate them. I've always had others handle that. However, when it came to an iPhone, I found myself compelled to learn. [Silence while he types a text message]. Forgive me for a moment, you might want to switch that off. [Pause in recording]

RS: You mentioned an increasing interest in owning a business?

JK: Even while serving in the military, I was recognized as a proactive individual. Whenever my company commander required something, I was usually able to procure it. This ranged from army-green paint to liquor and cigarettes; I handled virtually everything except ammunition. Therefore, my service was rather smooth because I earned their trust, and after a few months, they granted me considerable freedom, allowing me to come and go as I pleased, provided I fulfilled my responsibilities. They essentially left me undisturbed. I recognized, however, that this situation wouldn't persist indefinitely, especially with the escalating situation in Vietnam. During my final few months of service, after three years of assigning about six individuals to the Military Aid and Advisor Group, known as MAG, we were sending six from the division. In the last few months, our assignments increased to approximately three hundred per month. This was still in 1964. President Kennedy had been assassinated, and President Johnson was initiating a significant military buildup. At that specific juncture, some individuals we dispatched were already being processed for their final records due to their fatalities. This situation strongly motivated me to conclude my army service as promptly as possible.

RS: That seems like a prudent decision. Once you were discharged and began exploring business ventures, did you have a specific industry in mind?

JK: No, my inclination was simply to... my father and grandfather were both farmers, essentially businessmen. We were a family of four children, and none of us were inclined to work for others; we always preferred to be in charge. My sister, who recently passed away, operated a highly successful business that amassed her a fortune. My younger brother has become a multi-millionaire in a small town by consistently purchasing, retaining, and improving properties for the state. My elder brother owned a small chain of convenience stores coupled with gas stations; he divested them and retired to Surprise, Arizona. As for myself, I own five nightclubs.

RS: Did you ever envision yourself involved in the nightclub industry during your younger years?

RS: Did you enjoy nightclubs when you were younger?

JK: In truth, I would say yes; while I was in the service, I frequented nightclubs approximately four nights out of every week.

RS: Did you enjoy dancing?

RS: What style of dancing did you favor?

JK: Predominantly western dancing. At that time, there were a few instances of line dancing, but they were infrequent. It was primarily western dancing, which also incorporated elements of the jitterbug and rock-and-roll, whatever it took to secure a second dance with my partner.

RS: And were you aware of your sexual orientation at that time?

JK: As you are younger, it's important to understand the societal norms of that era. Society dictated that one might experience sinful thoughts, but that these would dissipate upon marrying the right person and being truly in love. Naturally, I was aware of having such thoughts. I experienced an intimate relationship with someone between the ages of thirteen and fifteen. Subsequently, I concluded that if I didn't cease these encounters, I would inevitably become homosexual. Thus, I completely abstained from any form of intimacy from two weeks prior to obtaining my driver's license until I met my wife, my ex-wife. Throughout my time in the service, I engaged in intimacy with others, but beyond cuddling, nothing further occurred.

RS: And how did you encounter your ex-wife?

JK: I returned home, and she was two years my junior, in the same graduating class as my high school sweetheart. She held the position of valedictorian, and I was familiar with her. We didn't typically socialize, likely because she came across as aloof and somewhat haughty. However, upon my return, she had dyed her hair red, styled it into a bob, and undergone a transformation, becoming an officer in a sorority, which significantly enhanced her social standing. Additionally, I gained a deeper understanding of… this is the advice I've given my son and have recently shared with my thirteen-year-old grandson: if you marry an intelligent individual, don't be surprised if your children are also intelligent and possess a tendency to challenge you. Conversely, if you marry someone less intellectually inclined, don't be astonished if you find yourself raising someone similar. My three years in the service provided me with ample time for reflection, and I determined that I did not wish to be raising individuals with limited intellectual capacity.

RS: And for how long were you together as a couple?

JK: Fourteen years. We were truly a couple for ten years. This was because, prior to our marriage, we established clear parameters for our relationship. After a decade, we had achieved all our initial objectives. When we convened to redefine our plans for the subsequent ten years, we discovered a complete lack of common ground. She had approximately seven interests that held absolutely no appeal for me, and I had a similar number of interests that she had no desire to pursue. We never engaged in arguments, as we consistently referred back to our original agreement: "Do you recall our agreement?" "Yes, this is precisely what we consented to." However, we found ourselves unable to redefine our partnership, and consequently, she was the one who initiated the divorce proceedings, as I had no intention of filing myself. In hindsight, I may have subtly encouraged this outcome.

RS: What was your occupation during those years?

JK: I leveraged my education and served as a loan officer for the Small Business Administration. Subsequently, because I believed in the product, I acquired a restaurant and, within two years, had expanded to four establishments. I divested them when I perceived my franchisor to be regressing and failing to keep pace with the competition. I then transitioned into becoming a real estate broker. It was during the real estate downturn of 1979-1980 that my divorce occurred. We divided our assets equally, and I opted for the riskier investments, which ultimately faltered. With the remaining resources at my disposal, I managed to scrape together enough to open a bar, specifically a gay bar. I had been out for less than a year at that point.

RS: Wow, and when did you disclose your sexual orientation to your family?

JK: It was approximately two months after I opened Charlie's. Charlie and I were together for a total of nine months. He was considerably younger than me, a good dancer, and quite skilled on the dance floor. However, I discovered he was becoming involved with drugs, and our value systems were fundamentally incompatible, despite his origins in Missouri and mine in Iowa. Our core beliefs were entirely divergent. Consequently, I began to distance myself from him, and he presented me with an ultimatum, outlining eight specific actions he would take if I ended our relationship. I lived under this threat for two weeks before deciding that I would not repeat the experience of living a fabricated life, which I had done for thirty-nine years. I had denied myself any intimacy until the age of twenty-four when I married. I was not going to start anew. Therefore, I called his bluff. He proceeded to enact many of his threats. One of these actions involved calling my father at three o'clock in the morning, waking him, and not only revealing my sexual preference, as it was termed in those days, rather than orientation, but also describing explicit sexual encounters and my enjoyment of them. My father never truly recovered from this revelation. He excluded me from his will and stipulated that I was forbidden from staying overnight at the family farmhouse. At the time, I considered it the end of the world, not only because all my belongings were being lost but also because Charlie was leaving, and so on. I truly believed it was the absolute end. However, within a couple of days, I realized I was walking with a renewed sense of buoyancy; it felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted. He also engaged in inappropriate behavior. I was employed by the SBA, and he proceeded to shout throughout the SBA offices that I was a faggot, vividly describing details such as, "I used to be his lover, and I know the size of his penis," while screaming at all the people in the hallway with whom I had worked for six years. The district director, who was also a close friend, contacted me. He stated, "I know you well, and I don't concern myself with whom you sleep or your personal life. However, I do question your judgment regarding the type of individuals you associate with." I found this observation rather amusing and responded, "I completely agree with your assessment."

RS: So, was Charlie's initially established as a country-western bar from its inception?

JK: Entirely country. The very first dance song I played was in late 1982, and it was "Gloria." We played it at midnight, and it successfully filled the dance floor. Naturally, several country patrons approached me, expressing their disapproval. However, others approached and suggested it was a refreshing change, but our primary identity was country. In retrospect, Charlie's would likely have experienced greater success and growth much sooner if I hadn't held onto the country music format for as long as I did. However, having started with country, I felt a sense of loyalty to the community that had supported me, and I was committed to doing everything within my power for them. When faced with the choice between closing or adapting, I chose to adapt.

RS: Was the first establishment located here in Denver?

RS: And what was the reason for your relocation to Denver?

JK: My ex-wife expressed a desire to reside in New York, Washington D.C., or Boston. The furthest west she was willing to consider was Chicago. My preference was to live in Albuquerque or Phoenix. We had a significant disagreement over this, which was one of the crucial points we needed to resolve. Consequently, I visited Boston, New York, Chicago, Phoenix, Albuquerque, Denver, and Kansas City. We eventually reached an agreement to establish our residence in Denver, a decision that involved me setting aside my personal preferences, though she did not reciprocate this compromise.

RS: Were you content living in Denver?

JK: Denver has consistently been beneficial to me, but I feel my true home is in Phoenix. My circulation tends to become sluggish, and I grow rather apathetic during the winter months. In contrast, in Phoenix, my blood flows more freely. I recall arriving in Phoenix on July 30th, 1984. Wayne Jakino was entrusted with the responsibility of managing Charlie's in Denver during my absence. Upon our arrival in Phoenix, the heat was intense, and Kenny and I encountered difficulties finding suitable accommodation. On the third day, I relinquished the car keys to him and stated, "I don't care where we live; I want you to be happy. Here's the checkbook and everything you need." I then declared, "I'm going climbing," and proceeded to South Mountain. Upon reaching the summit, I experienced an overwhelming sense of well-being, an absolutely wonderful feeling. When I returned, Kenny expressed some concern, as it turned out the temperature that day had reached 114 degrees Fahrenheit. It appears I am among the minority of individuals for whom Phoenix's climate is invigorating, as it thins the blood and enhances vitality.

RS: Before your move to Phoenix, did you contemplate the Southwest as a potential place to live?

JK: Always, without question. When I was stationed at Colorado Springs, although I was sent on temporary duty assignments to Washington D.C., Carmel near San Francisco, Dayton, Ohio, Indianapolis, and Washington D.C. once more, along with a three-day stint in South Carolina, these excursions did break up the monotony of my three years of service. However, my primary residence was in Colorado. I was disinclined to spend money, preferring to save it. It was during this time that I discovered the mountains, and they were truly magnificent. Hiking in them was entirely free of charge. Initially, I would sleep outdoors, and later I carried a lightweight tent with me. My hiking excursions were often shared with newfound friends, but if no one was available to accompany me, I would venture out alone. I ascended Pikes Peak twice and attempted Longs Peak once, an experience I have no desire to repeat. Similarly, I will not attempt Pikes Peak again. I was twenty-two years old on one occasion and twenty-three the following year when I climbed Pikes Peak. I doubt my ability to complete such a feat now. However, I have conquered Devils Head, and while I never summited Mount Evans or Squaw Peak, I have traversed several other mountain ranges in the area.

RS: So, while residing in Denver and operating a gay country-western bar, when did you first learn about the gay rodeo?

JK: Approximately three to four weeks subsequent to the opening of Charlie's. I possess documentation related to that history, which I can share with you; in fact, I could read it aloud if you prefer.

RS: Alternatively, you could forward it to me.

JK: Very well. It's currently available on the Charlie's Denver Facebook page. If you 'friend' Charlie's Denver on Facebook, we'll find a way. Brendon suggested, "I can figure this out for you," and I inquired, "How?" He replied, "We can post it on Facebook." I asked, "Will that truly help?" He responded, "I'll call you back in half an hour and let you know the number of views we receive; it will likely be as many views as 'Out Front' has ever garnered." He then called back within the specified timeframe and informed me that 586 individuals had already clicked on the post. I responded with an exclamation of surprise.

RS: That's remarkable. So, upon hearing about it, did you perceive it as an innovative endeavor?

JK: My closest confidant was Wayne Jakino, and it transpired that we became, and we endeavored to maintain it as discreetly as possible, bitter adversaries. However, now that he has been deceased for seven, or perhaps eight or nine years, I am able to reflect on the events that transpired. When we initially collaborated, it bore a striking resemblance to what occurred with my marriage. In the beginning, we shared numerous commonalities, and our relationship spanned over twenty-five years. For the initial fifteen years, everything we touched turned to gold because we were consistently aligned in our perspectives. Subsequently, natural changes occurred. He was unmarried, and his primary love interest had attempted suicide, prompting him to decide he wished to leave a legacy within the gay community. The complication was that he only possessed 10% ownership of Charlie's, yet he was utilizing 100% of my capital to construct this legacy. My objective was to establish an estate for my children and grandchildren, leading us to pursue divergent paths. Consequently, when he would observe a particularly successful week in Denver, he would remark, "Did you realize we generated this much revenue? It's astounding!" and then proceed to donate the funds through charitable endeavors, foundations, salary increases, or by hiring individuals with AIDS who were unable to perform their duties, all in an effort to enhance his standing within the gay community. In contrast, my approach as a natural businessman was to evolve Charlie's in a manner that generated greater revenue, thereby providing me with more options for building my estate. Looking back, while I kept our discord relatively private, our close friends were aware that in our final years together, we could barely tolerate each other's presence.

RS: During the 1980s, the gay rodeo movement was gaining momentum in Reno and beginning to emerge in other locations.

JK: Indeed, that information is included in this document. Please proceed.

RS: Did you feel a personal inclination to participate in the rodeo, perhaps as a rider, or was your interest primarily from a business standpoint, considering its potential to attract customers to Charlie's?

JK: Well, during my military service, I actively avoided forming friendships with my fellow servicemen. I would frequent Colorado Springs and cultivate relationships with the local indigenous population, many of whom were cowboys. It was during this period that I began adopting their vernacular, and I found it quite appealing. There were a couple of evenings that stand out. One evening in Woodland Park, Colorado, we participated in square dancing, referring to ourselves as "the gang," a group of about 12 individuals, both men and women. Actually, they were young women, given their age. Recall that in Woodland Park, after dancing, we would proceed to the tailgates and mix orange juice with vodka. I was exceedingly thirsty. I remember feeling intensely parched, and they were taking an excessive amount of time to prepare the drinks. Finally, I managed to obtain a bottle of vodka. I thought I'd just take a sip to moisten my throat; it tasted like water, and I was thirsty, so I consumed about half the bottle. We then returned inside. The following morning, I woke up in the bed of my dance partner, whose name I recall as Jannet. She informed me that nothing untoward had occurred, that I had merely passed out, and it had been a considerable effort to get me back. I inquired, "What happened?" She replied, "We were dancing, and as we started doing the dosey-doe, you essentially collapsed onto the ground." So, I have genuinely positive recollections of rodeos. Naturally, when you are pioneering with cowboys dancing together and so forth, the very concept of a gay rodeo struck me as a logical progression. At that time, in August, I was in the process of separating from Charlie, so my primary focus was on maintaining control of Charlie's.

And we confronted Phil Ragsdale, who responded, "I don't understand your grievance," and added, "It's essentially your rodeo. You've fundamentally taken it over, but everyone had a good time, and that's what you aim to achieve." Colorado then withdrew, and they convened in the basement of Charlie's. The rodeo committee engaged in discussions and reached compromises, ultimately establishing the framework for the current rulebook. While many rules have undergone refinement, the fundamental principles of the entire rodeo rulebook were developed by CGRA through a committee comprising approximately twelve individuals, both men and women. Johnny Van Ormen and Casey Jackson played integral roles in drafting these rules. Consequently, in 1980, we presented the rules. Initially, we decided to conduct our own rodeo, adhering to those established rules, which everyone understood. We had around forty contestants, and we generated a thousand dollars. While we didn't attract as many participants as we had hoped, we did earn a thousand dollars, which we promptly donated to charity. This action garnered us considerable attention and initiated the process of acceptance within the broader gay community, which had previously somewhat disregarded us. By donating a thousand dollars to the community centers, we effectively opened several doors, and as I've noted, the rest is history, as opportunities continued to arise. We subsequently established IGRA, originating from Colorado, and you're likely familiar with the remainder of the story.

RS: What were the most significant distinctions in the atmosphere of the rodeo between Reno and subsequent rodeos as they proliferated?

JK: Well, during the period when the Reno rodeo was active, there was only one gay rodeo in the entire country. Therefore, if you wished to reconnect with all your friends, you could simply schedule your attendance for that specific weekend and travel to Reno. From 1976 to 1982, Reno faced no competition. Beginning in 1983, you could attend in Denver, but Denver lacked any other major metropolitan areas in its vicinity, rendering it somewhat isolated. In contrast, Reno benefited from proximity to San Francisco and California, allowing it to draw a larger audience. Consequently, Colorado's rodeo commenced on a smaller scale. However, the Reno rodeo faced closure due to actions by the IRS and the Clark County supervisors, marking 1984 as its final year. In Colorado, we made efforts to persuade Texas to host, believing they would attract a larger rodeo contingent. However, the Texans indicated they preferred Colorado to initiate the process first. The Texans did attend and provided substantial support for the inaugural rodeo; indeed, without their assistance, I'm uncertain if the initiative would have successfully launched. Consequently, following that initial rodeo in 1983, we held the second rodeo outside of Reno in June of 1984. The third gay rodeo held outside of Reno took place in Simonton, Texas, located about an hour from Houston. Simonton, Texas, experienced an influx of 5,000 attendees, which greatly exceeded the town's population of 1,200 people, effectively overwhelming the community. While enjoyable, the situation became somewhat unmanageable. Subsequently, the Texans recognized the potential of this endeavor, and California announced its intention to host its first rodeo in March 1985. By that time, I had relocated to Arizona, and we held our first rodeo there in January of '86.

RS: And did you relocate to Arizona to establish another Charlie's establishment?

RS: And was that venture successful?

JK: There was considerable turmoil; the local neighborhood strongly opposed my presence, and they harbored resentment towards… this occurred right in the midst of the AIDS crisis. It was 1984, precisely when widespread fear permeated society. We had a hearing to obtain my liquor license, and a blind gentleman resided in the neighborhood. He had to traverse a street that saw a daily traffic volume of 57,000 vehicles, known as 7th Avenue. He could safely navigate this street to reach the Safeway grocery store. However, he testified that he would no longer patronize Safeway because he feared he might inadvertently wander into Charlie's and contract AIDS. He was approximately 80 years old at the time; it was a period of intense hysteria. Consequently, I purchased a corporate entity. I employed the same strategy I utilized in Denver: I acquired a bankrupt corporation that possessed a lease and an existing liquor license, and then reopened under that established permit, rendering any opposition futile.

RS: What other instances of homophobia has Charlie's encountered?

JK: To begin with, homophobia is as pervasive and damaging today as sexism was. Therefore, it's often difficult to ascertain its presence. However, there are various instances, and at times, I'm uncertain whether the issue is homophobia or simply a fear of AIDS, considering what transpired in the 1980s and early 1990s. I believe that if an individual, regardless of their sexual orientation, contracted AIDS during that period, they would likely have faced similar treatment. It's therefore challenging to definitively ascertain the root cause. We raised $5,000 for Miss Kitty, our representative attending the Reno gay rodeo. We presented a check for $5,000 to the Muscular Dystrophy Association at their annual fundraiser. However, they refused to accept it. The MDA declined to accept a check from the Colorado Gay Rodeo Association in 1984. A similar situation arose… I initially doubted its success, but we operated under a voting system, where if fourteen votes were in favor and twelve opposed, the decision was affirmative. Consequently, someone proposed donating a thousand dollars to the Arizona Humane Society, and they returned the check. Furthermore, there was the initial appearance on The Jerry Springer Show. We were encouraged to participate because Springer was perceived as a supporter of the gay community. While I believe he was and remains supportive, his pursuit of ratings led him to feature individuals with opposing viewpoints, resulting in a contentious and ultimately disastrous segment. [Phone beeps] Someone else wishes to speak with me; I will address them shortly. This was another classic example within the rodeo context. Regarding Charlie's, an individual canvassed the neighborhood and collected over 680 signatures, urging the council members to vote against my proposal. However, I am, or rather, I used to be, a politician. I traveled to Phoenix and knew no one on the council. When the vote was taken, it was a close 5-4 decision, with me on the losing side. Nevertheless, securing four votes was a significant eye-opener for the council. I subsequently closed the establishment and reopened it at a different location about a month later, and at that time, I encountered no opposition from any council members; in fact, no council person voted against me on the second occasion. That concludes my account.

RS: When did you establish your other locations?

JK: Well, I made attempts to open establishments in California; I have a fondness for California and desired to conduct business there. However, through a series of five distinct attempts, some of which were quite embarrassing, my efforts were unsuccessful. For instance, I had secured a contract with a 50% down payment for a bar in Silver Lake, with the remaining 50% to be financed. I was directed to a credit reporting agency. Upon reviewing the credit report, it indicated that I owed… there was a judgment against me for $75,000. I informed them, "This is a mistake." The real estate agent, even my own agent, was extremely condescending and remarked, "You told me this. You assured me you had excellent credit. You stated this, and you stated that. I cannot afford to waste my time." I insisted, "It's a mistake, it's a genuine error." I could have expressed my frustration vociferously, but I refrained. I simply reiterated, "It's a mistake." I returned and managed to have the erroneous information expunged. I inquired how this had occurred. It transpired that the judgment belonged to another individual named King, not me. They issued me a letter, which was satisfactory, though it took three weeks to obtain. Upon returning to California, the real estate agent refused to engage with me, and the bar owners sold it to someone else. I was present at the closing for a bar in San Diego when the silent partner, whose involvement I was unaware of, entered and announced, "I've just sold my townhouse for $60,000, so I have sufficient funds, and we intend to remodel and keep it operational."

And so, in beautiful San Diego, I appeared before the city council, the aldermen, in San Diego, precisely where Kickers later opened, as I was attracted to that location and desired it. I presented my case regarding Denver and Phoenix. The alderman responded, "That sounds promising, but you'll need to find an alternative location because I can guarantee you that not even God could obtain a dance permit for that particular spot." I took his word for it. Subsequently, a West Coast production company partner established the… they did, however, have to operate for eighteen months without any dancing, functioning solely as a bar. I still harbor a strong affection for California. Meanwhile, an alderman from Chicago approached me and expressed, "I find this concept highly appealing. We genuinely need this. If you would consider relocating to Chicago, I assure you, I know how to facilitate the process." I proceeded to Chicago, investigated the opportunity, consulted with relevant individuals, and indeed, he smoothed the way. I obtained a late-night operating permit and all necessary approvals. Every promise he made was fulfilled, and as a result, I now operate a bar in Chicago.

JK: I'm not certain if it was destined to be, but who knows?

RS: And you were the... sole founding member still involved, is that accurate regarding IGRA?

JK: Well, during the grand opening on November 9th, 1984, four individuals convened in the kitchen of Charlie's: Al Bell from California, who would serve as a trustee; Terry Clark from Texas, also designated as a trustee; myself, representing Arizona, as a trustee; and Wayne Jakino, who would initially serve as a trustee before assuming the presidency. We were instrumental in organizing the January convention, the pre-convention gathering, or rather, the convention that established the framework for future conventions. Therefore, I consider these four individuals to be the founders. There are others; I had a partner named Kenny Koonitz, who was a constant companion, but he wasn't present in the kitchen during that initial meeting, though he did attend the convention. Kenny Koonitz is still alive, so he could potentially be considered a founder. Al Bell's partner and Al Bell himself are deceased. Wayne Jakino has also passed away. Terry Clark and his partner Walter both succumbed to illness. Therefore, the only individual who could potentially claim founder status besides myself is my former partner at the time, but he… so, most people would likely concur that I am the sole remaining founder.

RS: And did you hold any leadership positions, such as president or treasurer, throughout the years?

JK: I served as a trustee for eleven of those years, representing Arizona for ten years and Illinois for one year. I also chaired the initial board of trustees and held the position of chairman for two years. During that two-year period, I learned that individuals with good intentions can indeed make rather questionable decisions [laughs]. Consequently, it was somewhat of a relief when we restructured that particular segment of IGRA. Initially, the trustees were hesitant to delegate authority, leading them to become involved in every dispute between contestants, judges, and so forth. At the third convention, we transitioned to a rodeo protest committee, with a single trustee overseeing operations, thereby establishing a more logical framework. This coincided with my departure from the chairmanship of the trustees. Subsequently, I served as the auditor and also acted as treasurer on two separate occasions when Eddie Klein's tenure concluded. I managed the financial records until Jeffrey Coon took over, and after he encountered difficulties, I continued to oversee the books for an additional six months until David Hill assumed the role. While I was never officially designated as treasurer, I fulfilled the duties of acting treasurer.

RS: Have you ever participated as a competitor in the rodeo?

JK: I have never officially competed in any of the rodeos.

JK: My involvement began when I was forty years old, and the last thing I needed while managing Charlie's in Denver and Phoenix was to sustain a broken bone. So, no, I had to live vicariously through others' riding experiences. I did own a horse; Ken and I jointly owned two horses in Colorado. I recall one of them, her name was Lady something, and we renamed her First Lady. It was interesting because in Arizona, I had a horse for about a year named Butch [laughs]; he was a half-thoroughbred, and Lee Cattleson expressed interest in acquiring him, but I was unable to part with him. I also had another horse, but I was paying someone to ride it because I was excessively occupied traveling between Denver and attempting to maintain operations. When Wayne took over, he made some rather poor decisions, necessitating my return to manage Charlie's, on two separate occasions. However, on one primary occasion, I had to be present for five months to resume control of Charlie's. Consequently, I have not owned a horse since 1988.

RS: But you still attend to observe the events?

JK: Oh yes. Although I am still regarded as somewhat of a maverick. I am also perceived as… The majority of individuals have formed opinions about me, given my long-standing presence in the community. Some suspect my involvement in gay rodeo is driven by a profit motive, while others believe my interest stems from my efforts to champion a more balanced rodeo landscape, which has been a persistent challenge. Since our inception in Colorado, we successfully engaged Texas and California. So, we had Wayne in Colorado and I was overseeing Arizona. Well, Texas would host a fundraiser and could easily generate $40,000, while California's fundraisers could yield $25,000. Our own fundraisers, while enjoyable, rarely managed to raise more than $2,400. I consequently persuaded Texas and California to adopt IGRA's rules based on what I termed a "senatorial basis," meaning that the size of one's state, the scope of their organization, or financial capacity had no bearing; each organization held equal weight. In my opinion, this proved to be a critical misstep, though others may disagree. Participants from smaller associations gain five votes, allowing their perspectives to be heard. However, states that actively produce rodeos have had to adhere to this regulation. Our original intention was to establish thirteen distinct events and organize an annual convention to adapt to market fluctuations. However, for reasons I cannot fully articulate, we codified these thirteen events, and for those attending the convention, they are treated as immutable, akin to the Ten Commandments. In my view, a significant portion of the gay rodeo community remains entrenched in late-20th-century thinking, while the market has evolved, and gay rodeo has not kept pace. The reason for this stagnation is the reluctance to discard cherished traditions, and consequently, we lack the collective political will to implement necessary changes. Therefore, I am genuinely pleased that Denver and Phoenix… Firstly, Denver possesses a core group that will ensure its strength for the next decade. As long as I am alive, Phoenix will remain robust. Texas also has a strong foundation that will maintain its vigor. California's standing has been somewhat inconsistent, but it appears they can generally agree on Palm Springs. While Palm Springs hosts a smaller rodeo, it functions effectively. The remaining rodeos are precariously sustained. Albuquerque has never achieved substantial profitability, Omaha is struggling, Wichita is similarly challenged, Oklahoma City is experiencing difficulties, Detroit has ceased operations, Chicago has not held an event in years, Minnesota attempted one and incurred significant losses, Calgary has disbanded, and I could continue listing them. Florida, Washington D.C., Atlanta, and others have also had their rodeos. The fundamental issue facing gay rodeo today is that we have not adequately incentivized participation in what are considered classic rodeo events. Instead, our incentives are directed towards participants involved with horses. Some people believe I harbor animosity towards horse enthusiasts; however, this is not the case. My primary objective is to allocate funds to those events that are in decline and are considered classic. Consequently, this has led to the perception that I dislike horse people. I hold genuine affection for horse people, but we have hundreds of them, yet how many are actively riding steers? Six? Five? How many people are riding bulls? Two? One? If we were solely a horse show, we should perhaps be known as the International Gay Horse Association. If we are indeed a rodeo, we should implement measures to encourage participation in actual rodeo events.

So, I am demonstrating my commitment through action. As David Lawson, the esteemed All-Around Cowboy from California, aptly put it, "I am part of these individuals. Despite the prize money, I am an FHP, one of those fabulous horse people." Of course, I recognized this as a subtle jab at me, as I am indeed allocating additional funds for roughstock events. However, given the absence of political will to adapt, these younger individuals, the millennials, attend a gay rodeo and sit through five hours of horse-related events. They remark that it's pleasant, but question whether they will pay to attend next year. However, if we featured bull riders and steer riders, they would return because it represents a sporting contest with clear winners and losers.

RS: And what do you attribute the general perception that the membership is aging to? What adjustments are necessary to attract not only young spectators but also active participants?

JK: We must revise these ten commandments, tailoring them to appeal to potential entrants. The imperative for this adjustment stems from the fact that in 1981, when gay rodeo was initially forming, there were 3.6 million family-owned farms and ranches across the United States. By 2015, according to Successful Farming magazine, this number had dwindled to 595,000. Of these, half are owned by individuals aged fifty or older, meaning they are not actively raising children. Consequently, we are left with approximately a quarter of a million family farms nationwide. If even one out of ten, or perhaps more accurately, one out of twelve or fifteen, of these is gay, our prospects are significantly diminished. Therefore, it is incumbent upon us to provide sufficient incentives for those aspiring individuals who grew up in urban environments, empowering them to take a chance and acquire new skills. Failure to do so will jeopardize the future of the rodeo. As I was introduced earlier, I am also referred to as a visionary by some. The key to survival lies in projecting ten years into the future and making proactive adjustments. One does not approach a sharp curve in the road at eighty miles per hour and then, upon encountering it, exclaim, "Oh, my goodness," and veer off course. Instead, one approaches the curve at a reduced speed, making necessary adjustments to navigate the turn smoothly and adapt to the new direction.

RS: And what are your hopes for the future of the association?

JK: I sincerely hope that we can effectively reach out to the one community where young cowboys continue to emerge, namely those of Hispanic heritage, and that we can adapt our events sufficiently to ensure they feel a sense of inclusion. While the efforts of CGRA are undeniably commendable, the prevailing issue is that no entity within the gay rodeo circuit appears to be considering modifications to their established rules to truly incorporate these individuals. Their approach seems to be primarily focused on extending an invitation while simultaneously imposing existing regulations. This has been a consistent pattern. Even in the earliest days, we consistently had between 20% and 25% of our contestants who identified as Hispanic, although they were predominantly second or third-generation Americans; we did not encounter individuals for whom English was a second language.

RS: And as the proprietor of a country-western nightclub, are you still attracting young individuals to both the country-western scene and, specifically, the gay bar atmosphere? Do you maintain the same—

JK: I possess enthusiasm, primarily because I've transitioned the music to dance-oriented genres. It's crucial for me to remain relevant to the twenty-one to thirty-year-old demographic, as they are the ones actively seeking entertainment. Perhaps the age range extends to twenty-one to thirty-five; these are the individuals who are out and about frequently, driven by their natural biological imperatives. Mother Nature has designed us that way. If you consider a graduating class from a Colorado high school or an Arizona high school, even in affluent areas, you'll find that approximately 80% of the graduating class is of Hispanic descent. This signifies that to maintain relevance, one must capture 10% of that 80%, rather than focusing on only 10% of the remaining 20%. People have labeled me a "Mexican lover," citing my ownership of property in Mexico. While that is true, my affection for Mexican individuals is equal to my affection for Americans. It simply comes down to business acumen: if you fail to recognize shifts in your target market, you risk obsolescence, much like organizations such as the VFW or the Elks Club. Have you ever heard of the Odd Fellows? Do they even exist anymore? Kiwanis has largely faded into obscurity. I question how many individuals under the age of thirty-five would willingly attend a Kiwanis lunch. I attended one myself, and I found it rather tedious even fifty years ago, you know? Donning a tie and attending Kiwanis - they were once considered the premier social clubs, even superior to the Elks. They failed to adapt; they adhered rigidly to their established rules and ultimately perished with them.

RS: Well, I recognize you are a busy individual, so I will excuse you. Is there anything further you would like to share regarding your distinguished history with the International Gay Rodeo Association?

JK: Reflecting retrospectively, I have cultivated approximately one hundred excellent friendships through gay rodeo, roughly half of whom are now deceased, perhaps even more than half. I have experienced camaraderie, affection, and acceptance within the gay rodeo community that I could never have envisioned when I first came out. I consider myself exceptionally fortunate to have been a part of it. Regardless of my initial motivations, which at the age of 76 are not entirely clear - when you are 46, you believe you comprehend everything, but by 76, your certainty has diminished - whatever my driving forces may have been, I feel incredibly fortunate to have participated. I assure you, I will not emulate John Beck and become overcome with emotion.