HOUSTON, Texas (KTRK) — It’s been more than thirty years since Paul Broussard was killed, highlighting what many in Houston’s LGBTQ+ community already knew at the time: The police simply didn’t take hate crimes seriously.

That’s why a group of determined young gay men have created their own security force, Q-Patrol, who work together to keep each other safe during a dangerous time.

It started in 1991 in Houston, Texas.

Stephen Tompkins and Mark Gartner were in their thirties.

“It was illegal for men to dance together and any kind of behavior could trigger this type of raid,” Tompkins said.

“They would charge you with public lewdness — dancing — and I was arrested once,” Gartner added.

Then came the killing of Paul Broussard.

While walking home from a bar in Montrose, the center of Houston’s gay community, the 27-year-old banker was jumped by a group of teenagers and young adults.

He was stabbed with a pocketknife, kicked with steel-toed boots and beaten repeatedly with two-by-fours driven in with nails.

Even after the police were called, an ambulance did not come for hours.

After emergency surgery, Broussard was pronounced dead.

“Okay, we have to take a stand. Stephen and I have been involved in a number of neighborhood patrols in our neighborhood in southeast Houston,” Gartner said. “We knew something about it, so we were the first to raise our hand and say we know how to put it all together.”

“We know we needed some people on foot, foot patrols, maybe some people on bikes, maybe in cars and communicating on walkie-talkies,” Gartner said.

“And be well marked, so t-shirts, cars with magnetic signs,” Tompkins added.

“We would find out where that license plate was registered and send a postcard,” Gartner said. “Dear Mom or Dad, the driver of this car has been seen harassing gay people in the Montrose area and we want to let you know that we know who you are, we know where you live and we are aware of what is going on. on.’ I got a lot of hate mail back from dads saying, “I’m proud of my son.”

“The important thing is they knew we knew who they were, where they were if something happened,” Tompkins added.

“It was dangerous, but it was exciting. That’s part of what made it fun,” Gartner said.

“Our good friend Brian Bradley got in front of the young people and said, ‘You’re going to jail and they’re going to call you Maria.’ The boy started crying, it was effective,” Tompkins laughed.

“That was when we started to get the police on our side. By then they were saying, “Yeah, you’ve been beaten again, you probably deserved it.” That was the attitude we got,” explained Gartner.

By the mid-1990s, Q-Patrol began to lose members.

“It kind of died down,” Gartner said, “In a very positive way because people felt safe. Did you know that three years after I did Q-Patrol… the police department at their hiring event at a gay pride event. , did he have a booth for rent?”

But progress is complicated.

In recent years, hate crimes have increased, and survey after survey shows that they are underreported.

Here in Texas, the Republican-controlled state legislature passed more anti-transgender legislation in its last session than ever before.

“When I moved to Montrose in ’97, Q-Patrol was a thing. I remember seeing them walking the streets. I remember feeling safer. So, I wanted to do everything I could to make this happen again so that we could take care of ourselves,” explained Ethan Michelle Ganz.

Ganz is now a volunteer for the newly revived Q-Patrol.

Members don’t patrol the streets as often, but are called in as support for protests and other LGBTQ+ gatherings.

They encourage everyone to participate in self-defense and de-escalation training.

“We’re not trying to hurt people. We’re trying to protect ourselves,” explained Andrew Degar, co-founder of Third Ward Jui Jitsu, a non-profit group that runs self-defense training. “That can be done with words, that can be done with actions of wisdom, at different levels before you need to get to a tougher approach.”

“Sometimes you don’t have to know about anything. You just have to show up,” Ganz said. “That matters more than anything because I see that effort. So many people have so much apathy about so many things, so they sit around like bystanders, but when you show up and show that you care, that matters and that becomes real. relations.”

Tompkins and Gartner are both retired from their day jobs and volunteering.

For them, the reappearance of the Q-Patrol is both bittersweet and bittersweet.

“I think a lot of it was due to some of the changes that we initiated, so I’m very proud of that,” Gartner said. “But your other question: Is there more to do? Yes. There’s always more to do,” Gartner said.

It is a new generation of activism inspired by the work of the past.

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