Julius’ Bar has been a watering hole since at least 1864, making it one of the oldest bars in New York City. You’d think that would be its claim to fame. Instead, the bar’s crucial role in civil rights history is the milestone for which this venerable gathering spot has become recognized, and it’s one that tells us much about how both laws and social mores have changed dramatically since the mid-twentieth century.

In the 1950s, gay bars, at least we know them today, did not exist. That’s because such an operation was considered not only immoral but also illegal. So meeting places that were open to gay men or lesbians took two forms. Some were run by the mob as illegal enterprises, paying off the police to avoid crackdowns or enforcement, but typically still subjected to them nevertheless. Others were bars that attracted a predominantly gay crowd, but evaded law enforcement by ensuring there was no evidence that their patrons were gay. Same-sex dancing, displays of physical affection, and dressing in a manner considered inconsistent with your gender were grounds for arrest, and penalties or closure for the business. In New York, even being found to have knowingly allowed “homosexuals” into your establishment put you and your business in legal jeopardy. Such rules weren’t limited to New York; consensual adult same-sex relations were illegal throughout the United States, and not only was discrimination based upon sexual orientation allowed in every state in the union, it was actually mandated by the federal government. Until 1973, homosexuality was categorized as a mental illness by the American Psychiatric Association.¹

But starting in the 1950s, organizations began to form in New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco to challenge these and other highly oppressive social and legal constraints. One such organization was the Mattachine Society, which was founded in 1950 by activist Harry Hay.² For years, most of their work was secret and behind the scenes. But as the 1960s progressed, a very small number of public demonstrations, inspired by the movement for Black civil rights, were organized to dismantle some of this intricate web of legal discrimination against gay people which remained in place.

One of the earliest of these actions, and perhaps one of the most consequential, took place at Julius’ Bar on 21 April 1966. Mattachine Society members John Timmins, Dick Leitsch, Craig Rodwell, and Randy Wicker decided to challenge the rules in New York State that prohibited bars from serving “homosexuals.” Emblematic of the Mattachine society’s incrementalist, non-threatening approach, the men dressed in suits and ties. They decided to target bars in their native Greenwich Village, politely approach the bartender, announce that they were homosexuals, and ask to be served a drink — thus ensuring that the refusal of service could not be blamed on inappropriate behavior or attire, but simply upon who they were. Later referred to as a “sip-in,” the model was based on the very effective “sit-ins” of southern lunch counters which had been used to desegregate those establishments.

The first attempt of this day was the Ukrainian-American Village Restaurant, but its bar turned out to be closed. At the nearby Howard Johnson’s and Waikiki, they were actually served without incident. The final stop was Julius’ Bar. Although a bar had been located in this space since the 1860s, only since the 1950s had it attracted a predominantly gay crowd. Just a few days earlier, Julius’ had been raided by the police for serving gay customers, and the men from the Mattachine Society knew the bar would be particularly sensitive about the possibility of running afoul of the law. They had in tow a photographer from the Village Voice, Fred W. McDarrah, to capture the protest. A reporter from the New York Post was also there to document the event.

Exactly as planned, the four men sat at the bar, asked to be served, and then stated that they were homosexuals. The bartender responded that he could not serve them, extended his hand to cover the glasses he had just set out in front of them, making clear that they were not welcome. McDarrah, who had a keen eye for capturing history, snapped his picture at just the right angle and moment to show the protest’s impact, with coverage in the Village Voice and elsewhere to follow.

The Legacy of the ‘Sip-In’

Julius’ “Sip-In,” as it came to be known, did more than just call public attention to these discriminatory laws and regulations. It helped lead to their unraveling in New York State, eventually removing long-standing prohibitions on such gay gathering spots. It would take until 1986, however, before New York City would ban all discrimination based on sexual orientation in public accommodations, and until 2002 that New York State would. And it wasn’t until 2015 that a narrow 5-4 Supreme Court decision would end discrimination in marriage based on sexual orientation.³

To this day, Julius’ continues to take great pride in the role it played in gay rights history. It regularly celebrates the anniversary of the “Sip-In” and hosts Mattachine parties to commemorate the early trailblazers who helped end harassment of LGBTQ+ people wishing to gather in safe spaces. Julius’ is perhaps not as famous or even quite as consequential as its neighbor just around the corner, the Stonewall Inn, which is internationally recognized as the birthplace of the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement and was declared a national monument in 2016. But there can be no denying that the revolution set off by the Stonewall Uprising would not have been possible without the much more tentative action taken three years earlier at Julius’. And whether it was the polite request for service at Julius’ or the ferocious resistance to police harassment and brutality at the Stonewall, both actions were aimed squarely at allowing LGBTQ+ people to live their lives free from discrimination and bias.

In 2022, after a ten-year campaign spearheaded by Village Preservation, Julius’ Bar was designated an individual New York City landmark.⁴