July 2025
A calendar of events for this month is included in the original issue, available as a PDF or via the Substack. An official website for the journal is coming soon.
June 14: Solidarity and Disappointment
by Viktor Zaltys
June 14th’s “No Kings” day marked one of the largest protests in Mobile’s history, with about 2,200 participants, according to one of the organizers, more than tripling the attendance from the previous Trump administration protest in May. This number surpassed 1% of the population of the City of Mobile, while still falling short of the 3.5% that participants interviewed hoped to see. This is a reference to the work of Erica Chenoweth, a political scientist at Harvard University who has studied historical non-violent mass movements. “There weren’t any campaigns that had failed after they had achieved 3.5% participation during a peak event,” says Chenoweth. Examples include the Singing Revolution in the Baltics in the 1980s and the Rose Revolution in Georgia in 2003. The “No Kings” protest was organized explicitly in opposition to executive overreach, as well as the military parade planned in Washington, DC, which celebrated both the Army’s 250th anniversary and President Trump’s 79th birthday. After speaking with many of the local protestors, it was clear that there was significant discontent with the Trump administration’s treatment of immigrants, particularly the suspension of due process during the deportation process.
Since protests in Los Angeles erupted in early June, the conversation has changed around the grassroots movement in the Mobile Bay area. During the previous protests (covered in MBLJ’s first issue), it appeared that not many locals even knew what was happening. Of the people interviewed at the Mobile County Republicans meeting in April, almost none knew the “Hands Off” protest had even occurred. However, when Los Angeles became the center of immigration protests, with President Trump calling in the National Guard and Marines, local officials took a tougher stance. In the lead up to the second “No Kings” protest, Mobile County Sheriff Paul Burch said the following during a monthly radio show “Ask the Sheriff ”: “I can tell you that if they do that in Mobile, Alabama, the orthopedic hand surgeons are gonna have one hell of a weekend to start fixing hands. Because that barricade can become a weapon.” The Sheriff walked back his statements after pushback from organizing group Indivisible. Members stated, “We don’t even leave any trash behind.” Sheriff Burch responded that he was answering a hypothetical question and didn’t believe that anything would happen in Mobile like that.
After national coverage of Los Angeles’s struggles, “No Kings” participants had a more unified grievance than during previous protests. Before, concerns were split between healthcare, Social Security, federal workers, immigrant rights, to even NATO. This time the main concern, by far, was immigrant rights. When asked what demands they have for local officials, most protesters stated that they would like for Mobile to adopt “Sanctuary City” status, barring local and county law enforcement from assisting ICE the way that the Baldwin County Sheriff ’s Department has.
Most of the participants interviewed were also uninspired by Indivisible’s charge to call Republican Representatives. One participant said that the state is so solidly red that “I’m talking to a voicemail box I know will never be heard.” A pro-ICE counter-protester punched a peaceful protester as Mobile residents marched from Government Plaza to Spanish Plaza. As national coverage continues to bring these issues home, more opposition to the movement can be expected, even locally. How the organizers will address the concerns of protestors’ unaccomplished goals alongside increased opposition, only time will tell.
Accessibility in the Port City
by Carissa Foster
For the average Mobilian walking the City streets and stepping onto a curb, over a crack or gap in the sidewalk, and across a street intersection, it is done easily, without much thought. However, for a mother using a stroller for her baby, a wheelchair user, or a visually impaired person, these seemingly minor flaws in accessibility can be major inconveniences and safety concerns.
Considering how much capital the City is willing to invest into new projects designed to attract both tourists and new residents, critics say that current infrastructure could be preventing accessibility for some of these potential target audiences. Though, that is not to say the City has done nothing to work towards providing accessible spaces for their residents and visitors.
After the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) was enacted in 1990, Mobile was one of many cities forced to evaluate their facilities and infrastructure to ensure all citizens would have equal access, not only to employment, but also to their community spaces. In 1993, the City of Mobile worked on identifying gaps in accessibility to create and implement working lists that would improve upon areas of concern. The resulting transition plan brought about many positive changes to the City. Through the late 90’s there were informative brochures and accessibility guides created, as well as a forum for disabled citizens. Disability awareness training for City employees also became available. In the early 2000’s, input was taken from the public, and the Mobile Transit Paratransit Service was formulated for individuals with disabilities that were unable to utilize the traditional bus system. Additional training and resources were also provided to address emergency response and sheltering for disabled citizens. With the late 2000’s and 2010’s came new funding for interpreting services for the deaf, along with other accessibility devices, as well as websites and forums to increase public awareness and input on the accessibility of the City.
Then, in 2016, a new transition plan was created to address the new ADA requirements. Residents of the City of Mobile could request sidewalk repairs and other services through the City’s 311 phone service or app according to the new plan. Unfortunately, there is no evidence on the City’s site that any progress has been made since the initial plan proposed in August 2016 with required yearly reports. Including no information on the actions or contact information of the city of Mobile’s Advisory Commission on the Disabled.
Instead, publicly, Mobile relies on having residents independently look into organizations that address their needs. Like the Independent Living Center of Mobile, the VA, or The CORE Project. Part of accessibility is defined as the inclusion of information, and in that regard, Mobile has not maintained its own promises. Dividing the solidarity that the community has historically used to advocate for all, must instead advocate alone.
These lines that make up the only organized advocacy and support for the City’s most vulnerable have faced threats to their grant funding with mass cuts from DOGE. These grants were deemed as unnecessary DEI programs. If outsiders won’t help make Mobile a fair and accessible city, then only Mobilians can demand the change for all its citizens to live in a city everyone can call home.
Another Push to Stop the Replacement of the LLV
by Viktor Zaltys
By far the most popular federal agency in the United States is the U.S. Postal Service. According to Pew Research, the Post Office has a 91% favorability among Americans, followed by CDC at 79% favorability. Commonly associated with the phrase “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds,” engraved on the New York City Post Office as a reference to the Persian Empire Couriers, as documented by the Greeks. It is a testament to the efficiency of one of the greatest logistical infrastructures in the world, with 44% of the world’s mail volume processed and delivered by the U.S. Postal Service. Touching almost every aspect of our life, certain things come to mind when thinking about the Post Office. One of the most iconic is the Long Life Vehicle (LLV), the staple of mail trucks since they were first made in 1986. With new production of LLVs ending in 1994, the Post Office has long been cannibalizing LLVs in attempts to maintain the fleet. These vehicles are so old and used that they can no longer be sold at auction. Unless they are being operated by the Post Office, they are no longer considered road safe. This is where the Next Generation Delivery Vehicles (NGDV) come in.
The NGDV is the much-delayed answer to the Post Office’s consistent requests for a new fleet of vehicles since 2015. The projected late-2024 rollout saw a stall after the election. Republican politicians widely want to bring this 10-year delayed replacement of the LLVs back into discussion. Why? Concerns over the NGDVs being electric vehicles. This objection, as of now, has been put to rest, as the U.S. Senate Parliamentarian stated that it would require a super- majority to reverse purchase of NGDVs this late in the process.
This is good news for local Post Offices, as many smaller offices like Bay Minnette don’t have vehicles to replace an LLV if it breaks down. They end up relying on Rural Carriers, most of which are required to use their personal vehicles. Even with the current proposed fleet approved by Congress, you will still be seeing LLVs for a long time as they get transferred over to some Rural Routes. Carriers I have spoken to - City and Rural alike - still have a love for the LLVs and look forward to the transfers, even if they don’t have the NGDV features, like A/C, bluetooth, or airbags.
However, this is only one challenge the Post Office has faced since 20th of January, 2025. There have been talks from Republican leadership like Donald Trump about privatizing the U.S. Postal Service. Coupled with that, the new Postmaster General, David Steiner, a current FedEx board member and proud union buster, set to lead the largest unionized workforce in the United States. The American Postal Workers Union (APWU) has responded to the choice, likening it to “choosing a fox to guard the hen house.” This is not the first time the Post Office has faced the threat of privatization and union busting. How a local 23-year career City Carrier put it, “They have been trying to plunder the public mail service since 1775. They failed then and they’ll fail now, as long as we have the people on our side.”
Our Queer Ecosystem: A Brief Overview of Gay History in Mobile, Alabama
by HollyRose Baker
After the Stonewall Rebellion, queer people around the world began to organize. In some places, this came in like a rogue wave, with huge numbers of people coming out and fighting for their rights. In others, places like Mobile, Alabama, it was more like a steady rising tide.
There had always been a subtle presence of queer life here. There were gay couples and friend groups, places people would congregate, and small pockets of support. But the Uprising left people wanting more.
In Mobile, this began in the bar scene.
“The only place to hangout was the Princess Lounge… across from the Presbyterian church downtown.” Says Robert Sanborn, a gay man who came to Mobile in 1969, who would later go on to help found Mobile Aids Support Services. “There was a little bar that was gay friendly called Miss Betty’s,” he added, “They were a private club, which means they could serve drinks after midight, ‘cause it required paid membership.”
Gay folks at the time had their bar, and their private club, but much of queer life was still shrouded in secrecy and fear. In those early days, there were no local queer events that he can recall. When asked what it was like to be queer in Mobile at the time, Mr. Sanborn sighed, and said,
“Extremely repressed. I had a lover at the time, and we socialized with other gay people, but certainly were not open in any way… there was no sense of solidarity in the area.”
He went on to talk about the lack of integration in the gay community of the time. “There were few black people involved in the community… I worked primarily in black schools for many years, and I would say that the majority of gay people I knew of in the black community were very much on the down-low… I think for them it was more risky… there were some people who were active in the gay community that happened to be black, but they were very few and far between.”
This isn’t to say that there were no black gay hangouts in Mobile at the time, but I think it’s important to note that the white gay folks didn’t seem to know about them. Fear and repression breed secrecy, and the tangibility of segregation led black gays to have little trust for their white counterparts. Nearly everyone I interviewed or spoke to for this project highlighted how the legacy of segregation has had a lasting effect on the queer scene of our city. This should be unsurprising to us; the context of queerness in the south is always going to be intersectional, and membership in one marginalized group does not inherently make someone educated on the struggles of another.
What might surprise our readership, however, is that Mr. Sanborn was out to his religious community at the time. He joined the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Mobile in 1973. “It was a place where you could be very free and open. In the 70’s,… there were a fair number of gay and lesbian members in the church. The church was very accepting. I was openly gay as far as the church was concerned.” He went on to serve on the board of the fellowship for 15 years.
It was two or three years after he joined the UUFM that Mr. Sanborn remembers any queer organizing happening in the city. In 1975 or ‘76, there was a group founded called the Gulf Alliance for Equality. “It was more of a social group” according to Mr. Sanborn, but “it was the first group that organized.”
It would not be the last. In the coming times, queerness in Mobile would percolate into the formation of more and more pockets of gay life.
Five years later, the Order of Osiris began. Osiris was not the first attempt at a gay Mardi Gras troupe in Mobile, but it was the first one to stick, and it is still a thriving part of Mobile’s queer community today. Isabel Machado explores the history and legacy of Osiris in “Never too big, Never too much,” which is a must read for any local queer history enthusiast.
We aren’t sure when Pride parades began happening in Mobile, but thanks to a single surviving wooden doubloon, we do know there was one in 1982. Later on in the 80’s and early 90’s, some of the treasured elder drag queens that we in Mobile still know and love today were being honored as Miss Mobile Gay Pride - Queens like Venus Shante DaVis, who was honored again for her contributions to the queer community at last years’ Come Out Mobile gala.
These early Prides were events of a few hundred people, often parading around Bienville Square, or down at the Fruit Loop, which was a circle of gay bars that had begun to form downtown. But they are the backbone and taproot for the many grand Pride events Mobile has to offer today; events like the Rainbow Pride of Mobile vendor fair, the Pride Family Picnics, Bent Broadway, Pride Art Walk and its’ Peoples Parade, Trans Day of Remembrance, the Wig Walk, and Translucent.
In 1985, Cornerstone Metropolitan Community Church was founded, with the explicit goal of being a church that is affirming to queer people. It is still in operation, and Rev. Marge Ragona, its founding minister, has just returned to Mobile to celebrate her 96th birthday. She is to be interviewed and honored by Prism United for her lifetime of work.
What I see in the stories of people like Mr. Sanborn, the Order of Osiris, and Cornerstone MCC is that we, here - in our little city by the bay - are and were a clear part of a larger movement to build gay life into something that could be more than just hiding. But, also, that here in the south, we did it in our own way - through Mardi Gras balls, parades, and a flair for the Sunday church service. We had supper clubs and house parties, and we drank at bars together. It is a life not too different from what many of us have now.
But in the backdrop of all these stories, there is a looming threat.
The fact is that so much of what these organizations did in those early days is unknown, and unknowable to us. We are very, very lucky to have people like Mr. Sanborn here to tell us these stories at all. Many of his contemporaries passed far before they got old enough to reminisce. The HIV and AIDS epidemic burned through Mobile, wiping away much of our community, and our history.
Even as it burned, there were diligent people fighting to put out the fires. Here is Chance Shaw, the current Director of Outreach and Prevention at Aids Alabama South, describing the community response.
“Lee Simmons was the first person in Mobile known to die of AIDS related illness. Right after he passed, a bunch of his lesbian friends got together, and they formed the Lee Simmons Fund For People With Aids. The idea was, they got everybody to contribute a little bit, and they would go and they would help take care of their gay friends that were dying, that were losing their homes and their livelihoods - their health - and they would help take care of them in those final months and years, so that they didn’t have to be alone, and be destitute. They were the ones in Mobile that, you know, held people’s hands, and made sure that someone remembered their birthday, and someone called their mom when they did pass… that someone was there to accept their remains, and make sure that they got a proper burial.”
The Lee Simmons Fund began in 1984, coordinating with queer people locally, medical professionals, and volunteers from the UUFM and Cornerstone MCC. The Fund would go on to have several successor organizations, growing out of its membership. In 1988, Mobile Aids Support Services began operating as a more formal organization providing care. It was initially funded privately by a city official at the time, until Robert Sanborn wrote the grant that secured its future. Him, Diane Hampton, Vernon Moore, and Julie Clifton were its founders. In the 90s, Kathy Hiers became the director of the organization, before moving on to work for Aids Alabama in the early 2000s. In 2011, Aids Alabama acquired the assets and practice of Mobile Aids Support Services, establishing Aids Alabama South, which still exists today.
The AIDS epidemic devastated our communities, but it did not end them. Sometimes, it caused our people to circle closer to one another, and to build even more.
Mr. Sanborn put it like this; “The first full time executive director [of Mobile Aids Support Services] was Marsha Wood. Marsha was a good old southern lady with lots of contacts all over the community. One of the things we had in Mobile was a great deal of Aids in the black community. She was able to draw a lot of the leaders of the black community into Mobile Aids Support Services, and provide an opportunity for them to receive the case management services.” He went on to describe how this led to more involvement from the black gay community and black women locally in HIV prevention, treatment, and response.
Local lesbians, many of them AIDS relief workers, traveled back and forth between here and Hattiesburg, coalescing at a land project/commune known as Camp Sister Spirit. On weekends and birthdays, they came together to enjoy each other’s company, and began having the locally famous Lesbian Libra Parties of the late 90’s and early 2000’s. They even founded a community center, called Bay Area Inclusion, whose members remember having had events nearly every day. They fixed each other’s houses, had potlucks, held trans support groups, and did any number of other gay events over their decade or so of existence. BAI closed in 2008, but many lesbians of a certain age can trace back most of their friendships to those hallowed days.
Cari Searcy is one of those lesbians. She moved to Mobile in 2001, and recalls the community of that time fondly. For her, however, the end of BAI wasn’t the end of the push for queer rights. It was just the beginning. Herself and her partner at the time, Kim, would go on to face a ten year legal battle. They were married in another state, but when the time came for Cari to be put on the birth certificate for the son they had together, Alabama refused. After a long, hard struggle, they won their case, legalizing gay marriage in Alabama — as well as second-parent adoption for gay and lesbian parents.
Cari is a treasure to talk to, and can be found at nearly any local queer event - but the curious queer learner might also want to watch the documentary that covered her story, Alabama Bound.
When asked about the state of the queer community of Mobile today, this is what she had to say;
“It’s crazy to see how much things have changed, and how this younger generation is reacting. It’s hard to look at this current administration, and it’s worse now than it ever has been. But the reaction of queer people - I mean, that change in the past ten years has been amazing. We still have a long way to go, as far as educating each other, and realizing it’s all part of the same thing, and that we can come together in those aspects.” She goes on to add. “It’s all about in-person community… Everybody needs that… We are all craving that”.
Still, she says that the gays and lesbians she knows aren’t always educated about trans people, and she worries that black and white queer people still haven’t quite come together.
“And I am scared,” she says. “We aren’t even protected by laws any more. But our community here is so strong. I think we have to focus on that, on building that, instead of focusing on where we lack it. There’s a history, people have come out of Mobile for every gay movement.”
One of the people in Mobile today who is focusing on that strength is Myah Turner. She is the Founder of the Black Butterfly Collective, a group dedicated to providing friendship and services to the black trans community in Mobile and beyond.
“I worked for an organization before this work, and one of the things we highlighted was HIV among trans women of color. That became the biggest priority. I wanted to be in a space where I can highlight trans joy… How do we take care of people beyond these test results or these preventative measures? How do we make them feel seen? How do we help them out in life - when they’re dealing with houselessness, or not having food, or anything like that. So, the Black Butterfly Collective was simply birthed for trans joy, healing, and wellness.”
Myah has spent the last year or so going to events and meeting with queer community leaders in Mobile, quietly evaluating spaces to see if they are safe and supportive for her fellow black trans friends. “I only try to bring the girls into places that I have already vetted as trusted people and trusted spaces. I understand that that is just life in Mobile, it does tend to be segregated. But it doesn’t always have to end that way. We can start, as the new generation - as the new patriarchs and matriarchs of Mobile, the new leaders of Mobile - we can start maneuvering ourselves into a space that is more conducive and inclusive for all people.”
As I look back on the myriad of conversations I’ve had for this project, I cannot help but agree with her. The trajectory of queer history in Mobile is in our hands now, just as it was in the hands of those movement ancestors who came before. It is how we choose to organize and conduct ourselves that will shape what is to come here.
She went on to talk about preparedness, saying that LGBT people need to work on acquiring reserves of our medicines; not just Hormone Replacement Therapy, but also things like PrEP, which helps prevent HIV transmission.
“We need to have these resources ready to go when these things start happening, or we will create another epidemic… We have to look out for us. We have to keep us safe at the end of the day… We understand that these people are not looking to comfort us, that they don’t care if we live or we die.” Myah thinks it’s time for the queer community to take these threats seriously, and for trans people to have each other’s backs.
She says that we should be putting our money more towards this sort of preparedness, and less towards some of our other events. “If we took some of that money, the thousands of dollars we pour towards Pride every year, if we could take some of that and put it towards those resources… these queer people are going to need these resources.”
I think she’s completely right. But, I also think that Mobile is more uniquely primed to do this kind of work than many might imagine. Mobile has never been a place where the gays only come out in June. From way back when all the way up to today, we have always had a variety of year round events. Our local organizations work tirelessly to host Pride Family Picnics, balls, galas, bar crawls, memorial services, history events, potlucks, home repair work days, HIV testing clinics, food distribution events, clothing exchanges, housing programs, and a thousand other things. Even during the AIDS epidemic, members of the local queer community did exactly what she is suggesting; they organized amongst themselves to import, collect, and distribute medications from an underground pharmacy on Westwood Street, in midtown. In Mobile, we don’t only do parties, or protests; we do Mutual Aid. We take care of us. We need to get better at it, learn more, put more of our resources towards it. But I think we are on the right path.
The core truth of queerness in Mobile is this; there isn’t just one queer community, or one organization. There isn’t one way to do Pride or be gay. There is not just one history.
We often like to imagine that history is the result of a few important people stringing together feats by their presence in events. We like to imagine that queer communities are small, and insular, with a few clear leaders starting everything. But, in reality, there were and are lots of queer communities, and lots of people making important and big moves. They overlap and intertwine; they are deeply interconnected, but it’s not as linear of a story as we often believe.
Sometimes, movements are talked about like a tree, with one trunk growing up that everything else stems from, branching off, and bearing fruit.
But the queer history of Mobile isn’t like that. It’s more like a pine savanna.
We do have some tall trees, yes, with broken off lower branches, high canopies up in the air like pillars holding the sky. Aids Alabama South and its predecessor organizations are like that, and so are groups like Osiris, Mobpride, the UUFM, and Cornerstone MCC. They have been our towers, our refuges, our long lasting, growing things that you can see from a distance. Prism United is quickly becoming one like these - sending its roots backward for nutrients and love with its Come Out Mobile gala, and forward towards the light with its youth support services.
But like a pine savanna, what is key to the thriving of our queer ecosystem is that these big, towering, monumental organizations still let light in, down to the ground floor. They don’t overcrowd each other, and no single one of them tries to be on top. And so, we end up with grassroots, and many little flowering things growing below. It is in those spaces that the most diversity of life and care and queerness lives.
Groups like Gulf Alliance for Equality and Bay Area Inclusion are dead, perhaps, but they still tower around us. They are like the standing deadwood so important to the pine savanna ecosystem - we nest in them. The connections that they made still thrive. The place that they nurtured is still nourished by them.
Talk to your queer elders. Listen to what they have to say. Don’t assume that this place has nothing to offer, and that being gay is always better in some other city on some other coast. Live here, in the place you are in. Fight for it. Continue the work of building it into something beautiful and thriving for our people.
This is the queer ecology of Mobile, Alabama. I am glad to be a part of it, growing alongside all of you. Thank you. I love you.
The Most Pressing Issue of Our Time
by Viktor Zaltys
Alabama State Representative David Standridge has pre-filed a proposed bill for the 2026 legislative session, unphased by its failure to pass in the 2025 session. 2026 Legislative Session HB2 would require all State and Municipal documentation to refer to the large body of water just south of us - the internationally-recognized Gulf of Mexico - as the “Gulf of America.” The most pressing issue of our time.
That is, of course, the current most pressing issue. Let us review all of the crises that were addressed in the 2025 State Legislative Session.
SB 171 - this Bill makes it a misdemeanor to drive motorized vehicles under water. “For purposes of this section, the term ‘motor vehicle’ means any vehicle that is self-propelled or that is drawn by a self-propelled vehicle, including an off-road vehicle, all-terrain vehicle, motorcycle, motor scooter, and motorized trail bike. The term does not include a vessel or other watercraft designed for transportation on water” (SB 171 lines 10-16). It was such an important bill that it passed completely on its own merits. Not a single additional part of this forty-two line bill covered anything else besides the alarming number of people driving underwater. Surely I-65 has been replaced by the Alabama River for the amount of traffic jams it must be experiencing. I know for me personally, when I kayak in the Delta I’m constantly running aground on all these underwater cars.
Although, as a hardliner against underwater motor scooter driving, I was sad to see that it was a compromise bill. After all, “The operation of a motor vehicle on lands submerged below navigable or non-navigable waters while remaining on land that the operator of the motor vehicle owns or has permission to be upon” (SB 171 lines 31-34). As a hardliner, this is a disappointing compromise. I’m just glad that come October 1, traditional water vessels shall finally take back control of the public waterways. Truly one of the most pressing issues of our time.
Then of course, there is HB 463. While not a Chilton County resident, my heart bleeds for its people and I am overjoyed to know that the Alabama State Legislature voted to allow “for the Director of Chilton County 911 to make purchases using a credit card or debit card issued to Chilton County 911 under certain conditions” (HB 463 lines 5-7). Clearly this was never something that Chilton County could have done on its own. The state being required to enable this minutia is my favorite part about Alabama’s democracy- that county commissioners aren’t allowed to put up new rules and regulations in local public forums to discuss why they are needed and get local feedback. That would be silly. Instead, Alabama, historically loving centralized power, pioneered a system of government that requires the State Legislature in Montgomery to make a law allowing for a county employee to get a debit card. Truly one of the most pressing issues of our time.
Meanwhile, the grocery tax was lowered from 3% to 2%. A regressive grocery tax, which lays the tax burden squarely on the working class, isn’t a pressing issue for the Alabama legislature. Fortunately, the government is now only taking 2% of the money that you use to buy healthy food for your family. Truly not a pressing issue in our time.