World War II uprooted America’s youth from their small towns, introduced them to wildly diverse ideas, challenged their social norms, and unified gay men and lesbian women who had long thought themselves alone in the world. Returning home, they sought spaces to continue those community connections they had forged in wartime.
Milwaukee already had an abundance of gay bars, but it was not exactly safe for people – especially professionals with careers and families – to be seen anywhere near them.
Some did the next best thing: they formed private, invitation-only clubs that would entertain in their own homes, where they were presumably (but not legally) safer. Over the years, these clubs maintained such tremendous security that their existence was often in question. What were they doing? Who were their members? How did you join? Were they real, or just an urban legend?
And that was always the allure – and the appeal – of the PTA Dinner Club.
Now, this long-standing tradition is coming to an end. On Nov. 23, the club will celebrate its 75th – and final – anniversary dinner at the Milwaukee Public Museum, before disbanding forever and donating their archives to the Wisconsin LGBTQ History Project. Wisconsin’s oldest and longest-running LGBTQ organization – unseen for most of its existence – will become just a memory for its fiercely loyal members.
Patience, Tolerance, Acceptance
In 1949, 12 gay men got together in Milwaukee to celebrate their friendship. They created a monthly dinner club, with the objective that each person would host dinner and drinks in their home one month a year. The guest list was 12 members plus guests for every event, including founding member “Clara Paul” (aka Roland Paul.)
The club was named “PTA” for a simple reason: it provided a safe cover for gay men who could not safely be out at work, in public, or sometimes even at home. There were already a surprising number of “queer spaces” operating in Milwaukee, and their numbers expanded rapidly after World War II: the Fox Bar, the Gay 90s, the Riviera, the Mint Bar, the Old Mill Inn, the GayTime, the Red Room, the Empire Lounge, the Clifton Tap, as well as notorious cruise bars at the Antlers, Belmont and Royal Hotels. However, professional men couldn’t even mention those places without raising eyebrows, much less risk being seen anywhere near them.
If someone asked, ‘hey, are you going to PTA on Saturday?’ anyone listening would automatically assume they meant Parent-Teacher Association. Nobody questioned whether or not they had children or even if they were married. This code protected the dinner club and its members throughout the Lavender Scare and the McCarthy Era.
“The older members were what my mother called ‘confirmed bachelors,’” said long-time member Bob Peters. “They would never, in their lifetimes, come out publicly.”
“Everyone was afraid of being found out,” said Greg Konzal, the group’s historian. “This was a real risk for men back then. If they were suspected, they would be watched. If they were watched, they might slip up. If they slip up, they could be arrested, jailed or worse. Secrecy was incredibly important. Avoiding suspicion was essential.”
“Nowadays, we say PTA stands for Patience, Tolerance, and Acceptance,” said Greg, “but that was not always the case. Some say it was Pretty Tits & Ass, others say it was Party Together Always. Ask any member over time and you will get a different answer.”
“Poor Tired Aunties might be my favorite,” said former president Tom Lytle. “But the secret is supposedly hidden inside the framed photo of Clara Paul, waiting to be discovered.”
The 12 founding members formed a constitution, although the first version was burned in 1954 – along with meeting minutes and other documents – to protect its members’ identities. Today, PTA has a list of the documents that were destroyed, but none of the details.
“Tolerance of Milwaukee’s gay bars would ebb and flow over the years,” said Greg, “and there was a crackdown of some sort around that time. The members were afraid they would get caught in their own homes.”
“Society has come so far,” said Tom. “I don’t think the current generation knows that fear of being discovered.”
Minutes are taken at each meeting by the host of the previous meeting and read at the next following meeting. A $10 fine may be levied against any member responsible for writing the minutes who does not present them at the required meeting.
If a member does not produce the required minutes, within two months, it may result in the member’s expulsion from the club. Each active member is required to attend each meeting. If you didn’t notify the host or a club officer of your inability to attend, it may be interpreted as their resignation from the club. The president would contact the member and discuss the status of their membership and their commitment. Everything was sent in writing, by mail – not email – so that there was an official record.
“The minutes were not like the minutes we keep today,” said Tom. “They were very minimal. Here is who attended, here is what we have in the treasury, here is what we discussed. That is about it. Maybe what they ate? Sometimes, they would forget to have a meeting, because they were drinking so much, and later, no one could remember what they talked about. And of course, everyone was given a drag name when they joined the club, and if you do not know their drag names, you will not know who was who in the minutes.”
Despite being deep underground, the PTA Dinner Club became extremely popular, and soon, there was a waiting list to get in. But one of the 12 members had to leave before a new member could join.
“We have copies of letters welcoming new members to the club,” said Greg, “and we know that some of them declined to join. To get into the club, a current member had to nominate a person to be voted on, the voting process is done through a Black and White Ball system. If you wanted the nominee to join, it was a white ball put into the vote bag, and if you did not want the nominee in, it was a black ball. If the white balls outranked the black, the nominee was extended an invite to join the club. And this has been the vetting system to this day.”
Every month, the PTA Dinner Club charged dues, which were used by the club for an annual party and an annual charitable donation. They became known for their philanthropy, specifically for Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin, BESTD, Courage MKE and AIDS Resource Center of Wisconsin.
Money was raised for Alzheimer’s disease, ALS, animal shelters, and other causes close to home – especially each other.
“As we age, and our health declines, we need people to take us to appointments, to sit with us after a surgery, to check up on us and make sure our basic needs are being met. It is what we do and what we have always done: we take care of each other,” said Bob.
“It’s amazing what we’ve been able to do with $25 per member per month,” said Greg, “in addition to donating our time as volunteers.”
Over the past 75 years and 898 meetings, the club has only had 71 members. Greg is number 70.
He and his husband have been in the club for 13 years.
“If a new member came into the club, Clara Paul followed that new member. Literally. It is a 3x4-foot photo of Clara Paul in drag. Whenever we have club celebrations, the picture must be brought with you, and you cannot give it up until a new member comes in. Well, I had it for some time, and I could not wait to get rid of it,” said Greg.
“Clara Paul’s photo, along with other club archives, was damaged in a basement flood years back,” said Tom. For years, the club’s existence was so fiercely guarded that some assumed it to be an urban legend. Yet, it existed long before any of the gay bars, organizations, or institutions that exist in Wisconsin today.
Meet the members
Tom Lytle was raised in a Michigan town so small he felt he had to go to the “big city” to be himself.
“I would go to Ann Arbor on the weekends,” said Tom. “If you wanted dance bars, or meet gay people, you had to go to Detroit. I knew the bar scene, but I did not really feel like I fit in anywhere. My partner at the time was 15 years older than me, and men over 40 were shunned in the bars. They were considered “too old” to be out in the bars. So, it was hard to find somewhere we could both feel comfortable.”
In 1989, they attended the PTA Dinner Club’s 40th anniversary dinner. This was a very fancy affair at the original Boulevard Inn, complete with a sit-down dinner, open bar, a piano player, and close to 60 guests.
Tom was just 24 at the time. But, after getting to know some of the members, he immediately felt a sense of belonging.
“We were due back in Michigan for work on Monday,” said Tom, “but we did not want to leave. We kept saying, another hour, another hour, as we delayed our drive home. As we finally departed to return to Michigan, I got emotional thinking about the PTA experience and realized that I really loved the people. They were so genuine and sincere, I felt like I had found my family. My partner agreed, and we turned around and went back. We said, we are going to stay another night. And they were all so happy to see us!”
That winter, Tom and his partner moved to Milwaukee’s East Side. They became close friends with one of the original members, Jack Johnson.
“It’s interesting: the members were welcoming, and they were truly great friends,” said Tom. “But they were still fussy about who they wanted to spend every month with – and who they were going to allow in the club.
They were incredibly careful about protecting the pact. We had just gotten a house, which showed stability, as well as the capacity to entertain. That impressed them. In March 1992, I was finally voted in.”
Tom became PTA president at the 583 rd meeting in September 1998. The organization’s 49th anniversary was approaching, and he had to prepare the first speech he had ever given. He concluded his presidency 22 years and 264 meetings later, when they celebrated the group’s 70th anniversary on the East Troy Electric Train with members past and present. To date, he has been the longest serving officer.
“PTA intrigued us because older men had so much to teach us,” said Tom. “I was the new kid in town, and they were so gracious to me. I was brought up to respect my elders, so I was always intrigued by the stories they shared about times past. While their growing up struggles were like ours, we had so much more freedom than they had back then. I was fascinated with their experiences going back to the 1940s.”
“I always looked up to Jack Johnson. He always worried about the club’s survival, and I promised him that I would try with all my might to keep it going. I am hoping that I have done him well at 75 years.”
Tom was fascinated to learn that many PTA members were, in fact, prominent businessmen. There were executives from banks, utilities, universities, and insurance companies. While Tom sometimes felt they were trying to impress him, he knew deep down in their hearts that they genuinely cared for each other.
“I learned gay etiquette from those men,” said Tom. “Proper things to do and say at a formal gathering. It was quite a rich learning experience.
“Jack Johnson could really hold court,” said Tom. “When he entered a room, you gave him a Brandy Manhattan, and he would delight you with his fascinating stories. The older guys would say, 'aw Jack, I have heard your stories a million times,' and they would walk out of the room. But I would stay because I wanted to hear them again and again.”
“I joined at the heights of the AIDS epidemic, and people in the club were dying,” said Tom. “Some of the members’ families wanted nothing to do with them. So, we took care of them until the end, staying at their homes around the clock, feeding them, bathing them, giving them medicine. When people found out they were HIV positive, or diagnosed with AIDS, we were the support group. We were the people who did not walk away. We knew our family was suffering and we stood by them to the end. It was very traumatic.”
Bob Peters moved to Milwaukee in 1987.
“I had a cousin who was gay,” said Bob, “and he was institutionalized for having a ‘mental illness.’ They did not know what to do with him, so they put him away for 30 years. He never left the institution.”
“I knew I was attracted to other men, but based on how I was raised, I did what I was supposed to do. Get through high school. Marry a girl. Start a family. In summer 1970, I graduated on June 7, got married on July 3, and had a baby on Aug. 8. Eighteen months later, I had another son.”
“We never really had the chance to experience adult life on our own. After a lot of emotional strain, our marriage eventually broke up. Fortunately, she left my sons with me, and I raised them on my own.”
“One summer, I met someone who changed my life. I ended up selling my home and moving from Illinois to Wisconsin. We had been coming up to Milwaukee for State Fair, baseball games, Summerfest, the Zoo … we enjoyed Milwaukee so much, I thought, let’s go. My oldest son started college at MSOE, and my younger son attended Shorewood High School.”
In 1990, the PTA Dinner Club was going through a bit of a membership upheaval. Jack Johnson nominated Bob to fill one of the open slots. He was one of the youngest members at the time – and now, 34 years later, he is the longest-serving member in the organization’s history.
“That was such a bittersweet moment in time,” said Bob. “As soon as I was meeting new people and making new friends, I was losing them just as quickly. AIDS was such a scary, challenging time for us all. When someone got sick, we took turns sharing the home care, errands, shopping, and housekeeping. There was not a lot of home care back then, because people did not understand AIDS, and home health providers feared exposure. We had to be the home health care. The outside world was terrifying, but we found strength, love,
and unity within our circle.”
Hosts with the most
“At one time, we had really lavish dinner parties,” said Bob. “We needed a whole month of preparation. You would need to figure out the menu, and the decorations, and the theme. And we did it because we enjoyed it, and we looked forward to it, and it was just such a great time.”
“There was a lot of drinking back then,” said Greg, “so much drinking! I do not know how they ever made it home. The dinners were always fantastic. Some people made extravagant meals; others brought in catered meals. It was up to the host what they wanted to make, but it was not necessarily about the meal. It was all about bringing people together over the meal. The stories they would tell, you would swear they were embellished.”
Tom recalls some of the wilder stories.
“Jack Johnson was hosting a party at his upper duplex on 55th Street,” said Tom, “and a disagreement broke out between a member and their much younger date. Food suddenly started flying: mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, airborne!
Another time, Jack hosted a wedding dress themed party at his home in Delafield, which had an in-ground pool. There was a tussle, and everyone wound up in the pool in their wedding dresses. Later, all the soggy wedding dresses were hanging on the clothesline, and neighbors raised a few eyebrows wondering what exactly was going on at this house.
Another memorable event was the Barbie Party, where you had to dress in your favorite Barbie outfit. I was PTA Barbie; someone else came as Truck Stop Barbie with tire tracks all over their dress.”
“Bob always had October, so we kept this tradition going. One year, we were three geisha girls. Another year, I was Blanche, my partner was Dorothy, and Gene was Sophia for a Golden Girls skit.”
“Some of the members would have larger homes, and they’d build stages in their family rooms,” said Bob. “You never knew what was coming out on that stage.”
“There were a lot of drag shows back then,” said Tom. “My all-time favorite memory was at Bob Peters’ Halloween party on Grant Boulevard. They had a beautiful, winding staircase, and we did drag numbers up and down those stairs. My partner, my friend Gene, and I went as The Supremes. People really tried to outdo each other with the costumes, and the makeup, and the performance. And everything was just so elaborate and entertaining.”
Changing times
Clara Paul’s 1966 departure was a sign of the times to come.
“His letter said he was resigning ‘due to reasons which I do not wish to disclose at this time,” said Tom. “I deeply regret that I find it necessary to resign. I trust you will perpetuate the existence of this unique organization for years to come.’ And he still enclosed his dues for that month.”
“There was some drama in this decision,” said Tom. “You can read between the lines. Some members are missing, some guests are no longer invited. There must have been some rift that was just irrevocable.”
By 1966, the group had inspired several spin-offs, including the Brunch Club at “Gay View Terrace;” a card club called the Four As; and the Investment Club, which was a bunch of wealthy executives who pooled their money and played the market.
“Everyone’s goal was always to get into the PTA,” said Bob, “but if you couldn’t get in right away, maybe you’d be accepted into one of the other clubs and hang with that crowd while you waited.”
At one time, the constitution stated that a couple could not join as members. One would be a member; another would be a guest. By the ‘80s, it became harder and harder to find members, so spouses and partners were allowed to join for the health of the club. More recently, the club voted in the first female member – a trans woman – another sign of changing times. There was even talk of opening the club up to straight allies, but it never happened.
For the past five years, the PTA marched in the Pride Parade.
“I don’t know if people understood what PTA was,” said Greg, “but we did have a sign saying, ‘Milwaukee’s oldest gay dinner club.’”
Over the years, all organizations struggle with succession planning. Social groups, anchored in romantic relationships, struggle even more. People break up. Friends take sides. Members disagree. People sober up.
Things change too much. Things change too little.
When members left PTA Dinner Club, communications stopped abruptly. There was no more socializing, there were no more invitations. Some felt bridges were deliberately burnt.
At one time, PTA even considered a recruitment website. By the 2010s, membership started to wane. “We could no longer maintain a 12-person membership,” said Greg. “We have done all we can.”
“Young people just don’t have larger dinner parties anymore,” said Tom. “You just order Uber Eats and throw out some paper plates.”
Closing thoughts
“Not many former members are around anymore,” said Greg. “There are 30 people left from over the years. And with every loss, we have lost a lot of the history of our community. But this was a secret society, and those just were not the conversations people had.”
“We need to preserve this somewhere,” said Greg, “because we always want PTA to be remembered for what it was. When we are all gone, we want there to be a record somewhere, not just sitting in boxes in someone’s basement.”
“What saddens me is that we aren’t able to pass the club on to the next generation,” said Tom. “So, we are passing on our archives to the Wisconsin LGBTQ History Project so that people know we were here. We hope our stories, photos and records bring them some joy.”
After forging lifelong friendships, Tom still plans to get together with his clubmates every month.
“We’re not breaking up,” he said. “It is not like we are never going to see each other again. But we always knew what we were going to do the second Saturday night of every month. And now we will not.”
“PTA gave me an extended family,” said Bob. “My parents are gone. My sisters are gone. I have one brother who is still alive, but we rarely see each other. That is why I feel sorry for the club disbanding: you cannot count on much in this world, but you could always count on your PTA family.”
Explore over a century of local history and heritage at the Wisconsin LGBTQ History Project website.
