His parents opened the original business, the Lighthouse, in the same spot in 1940. Jay Collins, a mechanic in the North Shore, ran Fran’s Place for more than 40 years starting in 1975. “As for so many other lesbians in so many other cities, it was in the bar, with its gift of affirmation and permission, that Alice sought and created her identity, both discovered and determined what it meant to be gay in America in the mid-50s.” Darlene Casey remembers old friends whose names are written on a wall of the former Fran's Place. “On the day she was released from the hospital, Alice went to The Lighthouse, and quickly became a regular,” the paper said.
Someone on staff at the institution told her of a place where there were others "like her." The paper said her survival depended on denying her lesbianism. One woman quoted in the paper said she heard about the Lighthouse while spending time in a mental ward for being gay. In this pre-Stonewall era, even dancing with someone of the same sex could get one arrested. Word spread quietly that this small eatery was a beacon for gay folks. In those days, Fran's Place was called The Lighthouse. They wrote about the history of gay and lesbian culture in a paper called, “In and Around the Lighthouse: Working Class Lesbian Bar Culture in the 1950s and 1960s." Academics and historians did extensive interviews with regulars at the time.
While researching at the History Project, a Boston-based archive devoted to preserving LGBTQ history, I sifted through two boxes full of tapes and transcripts from the '80s about the evolution of the locale. We saw marriages, we saw break-ups, we saw losses of loved ones.” This was her Cheers, where her friends threw her 50th surprise birthday party. She recognized every single name on the bricks. We wandered her old haunt as she reminisced one Friday this summer. They looked for a new place, but nothing ever felt as comfortable as that old bar with the pool table and the stage, not far from King's Beach. (Robin Lubbock/WBUR)Ĭasey told me she still calls her friends a band of misfits. The building that was once Fran's Place on the corner of Sagamore St. I had no idea there are locals in and around Lynn who drive by my building and feel a deep nostalgia for the camaraderie they found at Fran’s Place. I was the first tenant to move in, a queer woman of color who knew nothing of this rich history or the rare visual time capsule downstairs. For three years, their names have remained preserved on the first floor of this building. The same brick wall where the group wrote messages runs three floors up into my living room. What was once Fran’s Place is now a refurbished apartment building that I moved into last fall. Though these bars are still beloved and hallowed ground for anyone coming out of the closet, their role as a gateway to queer life has changed. We’re no longer living in the golden age of the gay clubs. These were spaces safe from judgmental eyes, spaces that have become more obsolete as culture has shifted and started embracing same-sex relationships. (Robin Lubbock/WBUR)Ī 1982 Boston Globe article said "there are 20 homosexual bars and clubs within a 30-mile radius of Boston.” It referred to Fran’s Place as a “modest juke joint.” Bars like these were once all the LGBTQ community had, the only places queer people could freely express their love decades ago. And again, we still wish it was here.” Darlene Casey looks behind the plastic sheeting used to cover the names on the wall of the former Fran's Place. “ just shows the history and what Fran's did for the community, for us,” Casey said. They signed their names as well as the names of old friends who passed away. Some had been coming to the Fran’s for decades. The crowd gathered around an old brick wall and began to write. probably might take it down, so yeah, go ahead Darlene.’ ” “I approached Jay Collins and I said, ‘can we sign our names on the wall? Casey remembered, “and he said, ‘well it is sold. She wanted to leave something behind, a way for people to know that she and her friends were there. A longtime regular, Casey watched patrons dance and sway, savoring one of the oldest gay bars in the commonwealth for the last time. Darlene Casey said one beer sat in the cooler, but it was too old to drink. On its last night open in September 2016, the liquor ran out at Fran’s Place. (Robin Lubbock/WBUR) This article is more than 2 years old. Names written on the brick wall when Fran's Place closed are still preserved today.