Turning back the clock 40 years on 2SLGBTQ+ violence

A few weeks ago, I sat down at my desk on a wintery Sunday afternoon to continue reading some Lesbian and Gay Organization – Saint John (LAGO-SJ) newsletters. The monthly newsletter, referred to as The Lighthouse, was in circulation from November 1983 (eight months after the organization began) until its final issue three years later in October 1985. Though each issue was unique, they all covered news concerning the community, advertised meet ups and dances, and included information on helplines and other avenues of support crucial to lesbian and gay life in the 1980s.

In reading through the issues, I was particularly arrested by the Vol.1 No. 8, September 1984 installment, which was dedicated to the memory of Charles O. Howard.

A dedication to Howard describes a man “whose life was senselessly cut short because the love he felt was different.” This phrase stopped me in my tracks. Though I’ve searched through different community groups across New Brunswick from this period in my time as an archivist and queer historian, I was not familiar with this name. A quick google search brought me to a Wikipedia page for Howard and detailed the tragedy that unfolded.

Howard was a 23-year-old gay man, originally from Portsmouth, New Hampshire, who had been back and forth to Bangor, Maine early in 1984 following brief relationships and while trying to eke out a living. By spring of 1984, he was settled into his own apartment on First Street and had become a member of Interweave – a support group run by the Unitarian Church for gays and lesbians.

The available information makes clear that Howard was sadly no stranger to homophobia. He was out and described as being “flamboyant” due to the jewelry he wore at a time when many were not open about their sexuality, instead strictly adhering to socially accepted gender norms. The HIV/AIDS Crisis was becoming more prevalent outside of the major centers, and during this proclaimed “International Year of Lesbian and Gay Action,” gay panic was in full swing.

Around 10:30pm on the night of Saturday, July 7,  1984, Howard was leaving an Interweave potluck with his boyfriend Roy Ogden. They were walking home over the Kenduskeag River Bridge when they were creeped by a car of teenagers. As Howard and Odgen crossed the bridge, Shawn Mabry, Jim Baines, and Daniel Ness (all under the age of 18), who had been on their way to get alcohol with a fake ID with two young women, jumped out of their car and began chasing the pair. Odgen managed to get away, while Howard, who suffered from asthma, collapsed and proceeded to be attacked by the teens, who then threw him off the Kenduskeag Bridge.

He drowned.

Though covered in some local publications and queer media of the time, this incident mostly flew under the radar. Howard’s murder occurred 14 years before the murder of 21-year-old Matthew Shepard in 1998 following a brutal assault in Laramie, Wyoming, an act of homophobic violence which finally captured the attention of the nation.

To be reading this now felt like a sick twist of fate. I learned of Howard’s murder six days after the inauguration of Donald Trump on January 20, 2025, when I and most 2SLGBTQ+ people across the globe watched in horror as the new US President announced through executive order that only two sexes would be recognized, gender neutral markers on passports would not be accepted, and, ultimately, that DEI positions would be removed.

“Oh great,” I thought, “we truly haven’t learned anything.” Reading about Howard’s death and reflecting on other tragedies within this context makes me feel as if we are going back 40 years to a time where violence towards queer people is totally normalized.

While homophobic violence may seem to some a distant relic, in both time and place, the reality for New Brunswickers is much more complicated. Indeed, for queer New Brunswickers, our relationship with those in the state next door is nothing new. There are no borders when it comes to love.

Northern Lambda Nord, founded 45 years ago in January 1980, is an example of this connection. The organization had members from across northern New Brunswick, Aroostook County Maine and across the border in Quebec, with folks traveling for meetings and events in Fort Fairfield and Fort Kent.

Just weeks before Howard’s murder, The Lighthouse issue of May 1984 proclaimed as part of Lesbian and Gay Action there would be a Kiss-In on the border of Canada and the U.S. between St. Stephen and Calais on August 25.

For those in the Port City, the murder of Charlie Howard hit hard. Bangor is just under a three-hour drive, and many would travel to and from to socialize, visit lovers and attend dances.

New Brunswick was not immune to these gay bashings/fag beatings. In fact, on Saturday, March 28, 1998, Don Mills and Gary John, a gay couple who had moved to Saint John 10 years prior and in 1997 had relocated to Maine and were staying at the Colonial Inn on City Road during a trip back to the city to organize their affairs, were assaulted. The couple, who had been together for 20 years, were photographed in the Telegraph-Journal with a bloody shirt from an attack by eight men who had invited them into a neighbouring hotel room for drinks and then began attacking them. John was able to escape and pull the fire alarm. Who knows what the outcome may have been otherwise.

Violence against queer people is not relegated to the United States. Men cruising on Fredericton’s green were subject to attacks for decades perpetrated by young university men as a sport. All of this came to a head in November of 1999, when Robbie Peterson, a young law student at the University of New Brunswick from Seattle, finally came forward about a brutal assault and inspired public outcry and candlelight vigils in downtown Fredericton, as reported by The Daily Gleaner story on November 15, 1999. His attacker, Dana Millbury was later sentenced to 90 days for assault, according to the Gleaner on December 16, 2000.

Do such stories of teens attacking someone for being part of the queer community sound familiar? In early February 2024, Nex Benedict, a 16-year-old non-binary teen died of an overdose following a violent homophobic attack in their Oklahoma high school bathroom. This attack was perpetrated by their peers. The pain endured from such a violent assault and hatred fueled by very miseducated youths caused this brilliant young life to be taken far too soon.

This past week news broke regarding the murder of Black, trans man Sam Nordquist in New York State. Nordquist was held hostage for months and was brutally tortured before being found on February 13, 2025. Benedict and Nordquist’s tragic deaths are a wake-up call that these extreme acts of violence towards queer and trans people are still occurring. When will we say enough is enough?

But in such moments of darkness, there is always light.

For all the fear Trump’s inauguration stoked, queer people can also take some solace in the humanity of people like Episcopal Bishop of Washington, Mariann Budde, who appealed to Trump to be merciful in his treatment of minority groups. Budde showed great allyship in interring the remains of Matthew Shepard, 20 years following his death in the National Cathedral in Washington.

Queer people have entered a new period of great uncertainty and of fear of persecution; this is nothing new.

For those who must cross the New Brunswick-Maine border on a frequent basis as dual citizens, to visit loved ones or seek affirmative health care, there is a very real threat of losing rights and insurance being denied.

There is the need for vigilance and care when thinking about how the 2SLGBTQ+ community has been treated over the years in our own backyards and how this needs to change from within the province.

Members of the queer community will be equipped to tackle bigots; this is why the work of groups like Queer Momentum and No Space for Hate are so important in uniting not just community members, but providing education to the wider public. This is especially urgent with a federal election looming before us and Canada’s own threat of far-right conservatives stripping our 2SLGBTQ+ rights.

The clocks must not be turned back 40 years with further violence extinguishing bright lights like Howard, Benedict, and Nordquist.

We must stand firm and support each other against the tide of hatred.

Meredith J. Batt is co-author of Len & Cub: A Queer History and a founder of the Queer Heritage Initiative of New Brunswick, which aims to preserve records of 2SLGBTQ+ New Brunswickers. They are a writer, archivist and historian based in Fredericton.