This was taken from the Atlanta Journal/Constitution, Monday, June 28, 1993. Copied without permission. ===== Gay pride march attracts 100,000 for celebration Event turnout larger than last year's By Lyle V. Harris and Holly Crenshaw, Staff writers In a ribbon of humanity stretching through the heart of Atlanta Sunday, at least 100,000 people reveled in a boundless celebration of gay, bisexual, and lesbian pride that began with a march along Peachtree Street and ended with a massive rally at Piedmont Park. Part social commentary and part performance art, the 23rd annual celebration was described by organizers as the city's biggest ever, and some saw that as a testament to a community that has grown in stature and influence. "I think the gay community has gotten more political and active, and that has brought people out," said Chester Old, 37, an Atlanta artist and designer. "I think most of all, it's just that people are getting fed up." Maj. Wayne Mock of the Atlanta Police Department estimated the crowd at about 100,000 people; but Skip Marklein, co-chair of the 1993 Atlanta Lesbian and Gay Pride Committee, put the figure at closer to 125,000. Last year's parade attracted about 70,000. Regardless of the numbers, there were enough voters to attract mayoral candidate Councilman Bill Campbell, Fulton County Commission Chairman Michael L. Lomax and Councilwoman Mary Davis, all of whom spoke at the rally. The miles-long march came in the wake of the City Council's passage of a domestic partnership ordinance and during an ongoing debate over gays in the military. One of the parade floats included men in military garb calling for President Clinton to honor his promise to lift the ban against openly gay soldiers. Some still hide identity Also prominent at this year's parade were heterosexuals who turned out to show support -- like members of Straight But Not Narrow, who drew applause for signs that read "We Love Our Lesbian Friends" and "Diversity Is Strength." And at a table in front of St. Mark's United Methodist Church at Peachtree and Fifth streets, Grace F. Trimble, 83, and other church volunteers handed out cups of water to the perspiring marchers. Messages emblazoned on T-shirts and banners in the parade ran the gamut from the religious ("God Loves Us, We Too Are His Children"), to the AIDS-related ("How Many More Have To Die?"), to the light-hearted ("I don't mind straight people -- as long as they act gay in public"). Some marchers wore multi-colored necklaces -- freedom rings -- as an outward symbol of their independence. But others still felt compelled to hide their sexual identity. "I can't tell you my name because I would lose my job, my children, and my family," said a woman who watched from the sidewalk. But the parade was a family affair for marchers like Iris Hollis and daughter Suzanna. Last Christmas, Suzanna told her family she was gay. "I will always support my children," Mrs. Hollis said. "I supported her in school and in the Girl Scouts -- why shouldn't I support her now? I love her, period. I think that is what being a parent is all about.