What Ever Happened To Ennis Del Mar? The Contributions Of Gays To The Olde American West

Wednesday, New York State joined California and Maine in voting down marriage equality. That same day, I learned that the Autry National Center, just a hop, skip and a jump from where I live in Los Angeles, had recently become the first institution of its kind to formally acknowledge the contributions of the LGBT community to Western American culture. On December 13, they will launch Out West, a four-part year-long series exploring the topic, with the program “What Ever Happened To Ennis Del Mar?”  L.A. Times film critic Kenneth Turan, USC Professor William Handley and Pitzer Professor Peter Nardi are on a panel moderated by University of New Mexico Professor Virginia Scharff. It seemed timely to support the strides that have been made with the Autry’s unprecedented programming-- remarkable for a conservative institution, especially given what is transpiring in the political arena-- and to point out the importance of engaging in such discussions.  To that end, I invited author and filmmaker Gregory Hinton, who conceived the Out West series, to post about the project: 

OUT WEST AT THE AUTRY

-by Gregory Hinton

Like a molten branding iron, the acclaimed Laramie Project and the groundbreaking Brokeback Mountain seared into the collective national consciousness the notion that it might not be so easy to be Gay in the West. Both were deeply elegiac yet phenomenally successful, critically and commercially. And it makes me wonder. 
 
If it’s really so bad in the rural west, why does anybody gay stay? With all the risks, what are the rewards? What’s it really like to be Gay or Lesbian and ‘out’ in the American West? 
    
Thus, on December 13th, the Autry National Center in Los Angeles commences with Out West, a 2009-2010 scholarly program series dedicated to illuminating the contributions of Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals, and Transgenders (LGBTs) to the history and culture of the American west.
   
The first program is called, Whatever Happened to Ennis del Mar? 

It is unprecedented for a Western art museum of the Autry’s stature to take such a step.  Of the twelve major American art museums which comprise Museums West, the institution which bears Gene Autry’s name is the first to pose this provocative question.
 
I was born in rural Montana, raised in Wyoming, and educated in Colorado. I have all the requisite Western bona fides and I happen to be gay.  A year ago I was researching Night Rodeo, my fifth novel set against the backdrop of 1950’s Wyoming, and took a stroll through the Gallery of Imagination, the extensive and beautiful western film gallery at the Autry. 
 
Strolling past the Western movie memorabilia of Buck Jones, Roy Rogers, Gary Cooper and John Wayne, I noticed something missing in the contemporary westerns case. There was no mention of Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain.  

I got an idea. A friend told me the iconic, intertwined shirts worn by Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal had been sold for $100,000 at a charity auction. On New Year’s Day 2009, I contacted the shirts’ owner, collector Tom Gregory, and asked his permission to attempt to place the shirts in the Autry. He generously agreed.
 
I never thought the Autry would accept them but they did. Six months later, with Mrs. Gene Autry presiding, the Brokeback Shirts were installed in the contemporary westerns case in the gallery of imagination. At the same event, the Autry Library announced its intention to include the archives of the International Gay Rodeo Association (IGRA) in its permanent rodeo collection. 
 
Yes. You read that right. There is a national gay rodeo association, with 5,000 members, 26 member associations, and 50,000 annual attendees. Gay rodeo allows those who feel forced to leave the country for the safety, community, and companionship of the city to reclaim their country heritage. 
 
The rewards are many for those LGBTs who remain in the rural West. For those of us who come from the west, it is in our blood and never lets us go.
 
To that point, I recently returned to Wyoming with the ashes of my older brother, who also happened to be gay and scattered them, per his wishes, (with those of his partner of thirty years) in the Crazy Woman Creek in the blue shadow of the Big Horn Mountains. After decades in urban Southern California, my western brother yearned for his rural past till the end.