WWII Veteran Leads Columbus Gay Pride Parade

It’s tempting to get so enthralled in the battles of the day that we forget how far Americans have come in our understanding and acceptance of LGBT people, and how much work has been done by our elders in the community. As you can see from this article from Saturday’s Columbus Dispatch, 2nd Lt. Rupert Starr has been quietly laying the groundwork for the modern LGBT movement since he came to terms with his orientation nearly 60 years ago.

As the parade passed, he stood near some bushes — a hiding spot in case someone he knew saw him celebrating with thousands of gay people. Rupert Starr had stood up to Nazis during World War II, spending four months as a prisoner of war in Poland, but his participation in a Columbus Pride Festival in the 1990s required more confidence than he could muster.

This year, he is the center of attention: the grand marshal of the 1 p.m. parade and keynote speaker at a Sunday brunch for what’s considered the largest gay-pride celebration in the Midwest.

The 28-year-old loved his college girlfriend but couldn’t bring himself toward physical intimacy or marriage after years of dating. A psychologist helped him acknowledge the reason, persuading him to stop dismissing his feelings for men. At the time, gay life was so underground that Starr thought he needed the book to understand who he was — and that there were others like him.

He told no one of his self-discovery.

Since graduating from Ohio University in 1946, Starr had gained prominence in Columbus through a successful real-estate career. And he would later provide leadership to the Columbus Board of Realtors and Columbus Jaycees.

Meanwhile, Starr began living with interior designer Allan Wingfield, whom he met in 1954 at a bar near Ohio State University [sic]. Some of their gay friends and colleagues in denial had married women; the couple continued a relationship until Wingfield’s death in 2007.

2nd Lt. Starr talks with a reporter

Still, many considered the two “roommates,” not partners. In the early ’90s, even Starr’s two brothers were surprised to learn of their younger sibling’s sexual orientation. During the past decade, Starr has gradually opened up to others. Still, some friends who implicitly knew were never told so, said Loann Crane, a friend for more than 50 years. “I never knew whether he’d come out with it or not,” Crane, 84, said this week. “There are just some things you don’t discuss.”

Starr returned yesterday from a trip with two relatives in which he revisited the area surrounding his former prison camp. Though still disturbed by the horrors of war, he believes he gained strength by living through them.

“To be able to say, ‘I made it; I’m a man’ — that gave me courage,” he said. “That courage evolved into me living my life the way I was born and facing my sexuality. I felt if I could do it in battle, I could do it in my private life.”