News
Celebrating the life of Lilli Vincenz
U.S. senator, activists reflect on legacy of pioneering LGBTQ rights advocate
A dozen people familiar with the accomplishments of LGBTQ rights advocate Lilli Vincenz, who died on June 27 at the age of 85, have elegantly expressed and captured the pioneering work and legacy of Vincenz as an LGBTQ rights advocate, psychotherapist, and documentary filmmaker.
Among the accomplishments of Vincenz considered most significant by those whose views are included here, including U.S. Sen. Tammy Baldwin (D-Wisc.) and two gay historians, is her role as a documentary filmmaker capturing 1960s-era gay protests.
Among the Vincenz films considered significant, which are now available for viewing through the Vincenz papers and film collection at the Library of Congress, include her 1968 film “The Second Largest Minority” and her 1970 film “Gay and Proud.”
The 1968 film captures what activists say appears to be the first known documentary of a 1960s-era pre-Stonewall gay and lesbian protest outside Philadelphia’s Independence Hall organized by the Mattachine Society gay rights organization with ties to D.C., Philly, and New York City.
The second film in 1970 captured the first Christopher Street Liberation Day Parade in New York City to commemorate the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots in New York’s Greenwich Village.
The activists contributing to this tribute to Vincenz say these historic films were just one part of the enormous contributions that Vincenz has made to the LGBTQ rights movement beginning in the 1960s through the early 2000s.
U.S. Sen. Tammy Baldwin (D-Wisc.)
Discussing 1960s-era ‘gay’ documentary films made by Lilli; excerpt from interview in Mattachine Society Documentary ‘Gay and Proud: Lilli’s Legacy’:
She recorded a history that without her work would remain untold in many respects. I prize, and cherish, and respect not only those participants in activism but those who recorded it so people like me decades later could learn about them and learn about our history. Lilli Vincenz is one of those prescient individuals, courageous individuals who made that possible.
I remember coming out when I was in college. I tried to read up on the history of the LGBTQ movement. I remember at the time seeing some documentaries. It gave me a deep appreciation of some of the pioneers who did courageous things when few others were, and also the fact that some of those things were documented allowed somebody like me many years later to find a family that I didn’t know I had as a member of a larger community.
Not only did she have the foresight to come with a camera in order to record this immensely historic event, but she knew the importance of distributing it to people in other areas of the country who could perhaps gain some confidence and courage out of seeing what was happening in New York City and other cities. She made copies and sent it to gay bars and other groups who would then show the film, giving people a greater understanding of a movement that they were a part of and perhaps the courage to speak out and be more visible.
There was an understanding, particularly by Lilli, that when we were visible and vocal, we could make change. And through their courage, that began to happen.
The fact that we have a copy today and that institutions like the Library of Congress have found this to be a remarkable piece of history and is preserving it for generations to come is a real statement of their understanding and all of our understanding of how movements for change work and how much a part of our country’s history this struggle is and was.
Daniel L. Hays, president, Equality NoVa
The LGBTQ+ community lost another trailblazer, an icon with the passing of Lilli Vincenz. From her work – multi-decades work – beginning in the early 60s, to her preservation of the movement’s history in documentaries, her work was critical to us getting to where we are in the fight for equality. The heavens received an angel that surely is looking down on us all with rainbow wings.
Charles Francis, president, Mattachine Society of Washington, D.C.
The last time I saw Lilli was a special moment of personal triumph for her, an honoree invited by President Obama during PRIDE 2014 at the White House. There she stood in the East Room beside a velvet rope with one of the original, hand-lettered picket signs held high outside on the sidewalk 50 years before.
It read: End Official Persecution of Homosexuals. She was the first lesbian to join the original Mattachine Society of Washington, D.C., and picketed at the front gate along with the Mattachine led by Frank Kameny and the Daughters of Bilitis. All were scorned by the Johnson administration that viciously enforced the federal ban and investigation of homosexuals in the U.S. Civil Service Commission and the military. The Johnson folks claimed it was about the “revulsion” of fellow employees forced to work alongside “self-avowed” homosexuals.
She had already been kicked out of the Women’s Army Corp because of her homosexuality in 1963 and had nothing to lose and everything to gain for her own dignity and LGBTQ generations to come. Lilli was so beautiful, graceful and dignified both in the day and in that moment with the old picket in the East Room. (The picket sign was donated by the Kameny Papers Project in 2006 to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History that loaned it to the White House in 2014.)
Lillian Faderman, historian, former California State University professor and acclaimed author of many books, including ‘To Believe In Women: What Lesbians Have Done For America – A History.’ (From the documentary film “Gay and Proud: Lilli’s Legacy”)
Lilli’s story is one of such bravery. She was so ahead of her time…She was very bright, very gifted, and very beautiful too. She got kicked out of the army because she was a lesbian…She was remarkable in her willingness to step forward to be out there. It was, after all, still dangerous in the early 1960s to be known as a homosexual. And Lilli didn’t seem to give a damn.
Anyone who saw [Vincenz’s film] “Gay and Proud” realized that these huge marches were possible. It really got the ball rolling. And slowly other groups began to have marches in their cities. Until now, when millions of people march around the country.
Loraine Hutchins, longtime D.C. area Bi+ rights advocate
I’m grateful for Lilli’s work in the world and went to her early groups at her house and then later to the events at Ethical Culture Society. Will miss her a lot. Always felt support as a young and aging bi woman by Lilli.
Kris McLaughlin, former president, Equality Northern Virginia
Lesbian activist Cheryl Spector introduced me to Lilli and Nancy in the early 2000s, when I was president of the Arlington Gay & Lesbian Alliance (now called Equality Northern Virginia). I was impressed by Lilli’s disciplined approach to LGBT+ equality and understood that better after watching the film “Gay Pioneers” by Equality Forum.
She was fierce, courageous, and determined. I believe that she knew how grateful we are for her groundbreaking efforts and think it’s fitting that she left us during Pride month.
Kevin Naff, editor, Washington Blade
As one of the founders of the Washington Blade back in 1969, Lilli Vincenz’s passion and legacy live on in the work of today’s Blade journalists. We are proud to honor her memory through our mission of telling the LGBTQ community’s stories and history through our lens 54 years later.
Malcolm Lazin, founder and executive director, Equality Forum and LGBT History Month
After Barbara Gittings, the mother of the LGBTQ civil rights movement, and Del Martin and Phyllis Lyons, founders of the Daughter of Bilitis, Lilli Vincenz is arguably the most important lesbian in the founding of our civil rights movement. I had the honor of knowing her and her life partner Nancy Ruth Davis.
After receiving a master of English from Columbia University in 1960, Lilli served in the Women’s Army Corp at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. She was outed and thereafter discharged pursuant to federal policy. Not one to give in or give up, in 1963 Lilli joined the D.C. chapter of the Mattachine Society, an early gay organization. As a Mattachine member, Lilli attended the first meeting with the Civil Service Commission to challenge its discrimination policy against gays and lesbians.
In 1965, she was the only lesbian to participate in the rally in front of the White House against Fidel Castro rounding up and incarcerating Cuban gays. This was the first gay demonstration at the White House.
In 1965, Lilli was one of about 40 participants at the 1st Annual Reminder in front of Independence Hall on July 4th and thereafter at each of the five Annual Reminders. These Annual Reminders included activists from D.C., Philadelphia, and New York. Spearheaded by Frank Kameny and Barbara Gittings, they were the first time gays were out and called for overall equality. Their non-violent demands for democratic change laid the basis for the LGBTQ civil rights movement.
In 1970, the Annual Reminders were suspended. Lilli Vincenz joined Frank Kameny, Barbara Gittings, New York activist Craig Rodwell and others, who helped organize the Christopher Street Liberation Day parade to remember the Stonewall Uprising.
That activism is now known as the 1st New York Pride Parade. Vincenz filmed that parade as well as the 1968 Annual Reminder.
In 1971, Vincenz was active in Frank Kameny for Congress, the first time that an openly gay person ran in a federal election. From 1971 to 1979, Vincenz hosted a monthly Gay Women’s Open House in D.C. In 1990, Lilli earned a Ph.D. in Human Development from the University of Maryland. She had an active therapy practice.
She and her partner Nancy Ruth Davis were unofficially married in Key West well before anyone believed that same-sex marriage would be recognized. Lilli appeared in Gay Pioneers, a documentary about the start of the gay civil rights movement. Co-produced by PBS and Equality Forum. I was the documentary’s co-executive producer. At screenings, Lilli would bring her beloved fiddle and entertain audiences.
In 2005, Lilli participated at Independence Hall at the 40th Anniversary of the Annual Reminders. Lilli’s contribution to LGBTQ civil rights and memory are our blessing.
Eric Cervini, American historian, author of acclaimed 2020 biography of gay rights pioneer Frank Kameny, ‘Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs. The United States of America.’ From Cervini’s interview in the documentary film “Gay and Proud: Lilli’s Legacy”:
The first ever gay pride march took place on the first anniversary of Stonewall in 1970 and Lilli Vincenz decided that she wanted to capture it and make a film titled, ‘Gay and Proud.’
Almost immediately after she was asked to leave the army, in the fall of 1963, she contacted Frank Kameny and the Mattachine Society of Washington…And only a couple of yeas after that, she became the first lesbian to march in front of the White House for gay equality.
Part of Lilli’s activism was she made documentaries about her own activism and the activism of the Mattachine Society of Washington…Lilli organized a group of six people to help her film this 1970 film, ‘Gay and Proud,’ in New York. And it was capturing the first annual Christopher Street Liberation Day march…Lilli used a 16-millimeter black and white camera. It resulted in an 11-and-a-half-minute documentary that was really the first of its kind.
My first thought on watching it is how similar it is to our parades now. And a lot of people wonder, what is the use of pride and why do we have pride parades? And I think this film reminds you that pride, in every single pride march, is an act of resistance.
In 2013, the Mattachine Society of Washington, D.C. worked with Lilli to donate her materials to the Library of Congress, and so now anyone can view her films, look at her diaries, and see her history.
Nicholas F. Benton, owner/editor, Falls Church News-Press
I got to know Lilli when her partner, Nancy Davis, came to work for my newspaper in the early 2000s. Both were beyond charming and were frequent attendees at parties I held at my home, always invited to play the fiddle (Lilli) and read captivating short stories of days of Egypt or, then Yugoslavia (Nancy).
I had the honor of being host for their attendance, along with Frank Kameny, at the 2006 Human Rights Campaign National Dinner in Washington, D.C. Truly lovely, humble, and dedicated people.
Bob Witeck, president, Witeck Communications
Lilli Vincenz’ contributions and impact as a civil rights pioneer cannot be underestimated. I am proud that Lilli and her lifelong partner, Nancy Davis, also were neighbors and friends. More significant are the vital chapters in the history of our movement she led and documented with giants like Frank Kameny and Jack Nichols. All are truly revered for their impatience and courage.
I cannot forget the visit we made with Lilli and Nancy to the White House in June 2014 to celebrate Pride during the Obama administration. Remarkably, in the East Room, the president’s staff exhibited one of the original civil rights picket signs that Lilli and her fellow activists carried during their unprecedented 1960s protests outside the White House grounds.
We captured a precious image with Lilli in the East Room that day [in a photo], just moments before one of the staff quietly scolded us. It was a scolding worth savoring to honor a pioneer who taught us how crucial it is to break society’s boundaries.
Vincent Slatt, director of archiving, D.C. Rainbow History Project
Lilli Vincenz had already been active in D.C. 15 years before I was born, and nearly 50 years before I became involved in the RHP archives. I had heard of her name in passing, and met her at an event or two, but, frankly, young gay city guys and suburban lesbian seniors don’t often interact. As I’ve worked with our archives, however, I’ve gotten to know Lilli in a way that I wish other people could. Her name is threaded through so many of the great document collections, magazines and periodicals, photographs and recordings that we’ve amassed over 20 years. One doesn’t have to scrape deeply to find her involvement in our community: she has left footprints in decades of records.
Lilli’s name is not just in the collections we would expect — U.S. Gay Rights, Mattachine Society, Gay Women’s Alternative, The Ladder, Barbara Gittings, Nancy Tucker, and Eva Freund collections. Her efforts are documented in GLAA, PFLAG, Gay Liberation Front, Gay Community Center and the Sodomy Law Repeal collections.
I’ve seen her name in materials from Lambda Rising, the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt, and countless other folders where I have stumbled on a letter or document and seen her name. In my earlier years I might not have noticed her or remembered seeing her; nowadays, however, I do and think, “Oh, look who it is again! I didn’t know she was involved with this!”
With the majority of gay history and gay documentation ending up in the trash cans, looking at just the fraction we have saved, I can say this about Lilli Vincenz: her work was deep, and the ripples of her impact have gone wide and are continued to be felt today. When our children and our children’s children crack open the archives and look at our history, they will be in awe of Lilli and what she accomplished. Hopefully, some of those kids will read enough of it to say “Oh, look who it is again!”
Bob Brown, Personal Home Services, Alexandria, Va.
I knew Lilli and her partner Nancy Davis later in life, as I became their housecleaner in 1998 after they answered my classified ad in the Washington Blade. Lilli had a home office as a therapist in Arlington where she helped her patients deal with the often harsh way the LGBTQ community was treated by government, military, police, religious society, and many families. She helped so many people over the years.
She and Nancy both enjoyed travel. Their house was filled with photos from trips they took on Olivia Travel Cruises around the world —18 cruises in total!
Lilli loved her violin and was quite talented. She would often practice in her dining room while I flitted about the house better than AirPods! She cobbled together a group of artists to play music in her airy space above her office/garage and The Ash Grove Players were formed. They played at The American Folk Life Festival, retirement homes and cafes. She loved all styles of music and attended Grammy Award-winner Mark O’Connor’s fiddle camp each summer in Tennessee in the early 2000s. Nancy would recite her poetry and short stories at night around the campfire. They had lots of fun there!
They were a loving couple, Nancy referring to her as “My darling Lilli” and singing “You Are My Sunshine” to her often. This is just a part of the other side of Lilli’s life beyond her heroic activism to push forward equality for us all. I feel quite honored to have known her and Nancy all these years.
The White House
From red carpet to chaos: A first-person narrative of the WHCD shooting
The Blade’s WH correspondent Joe Reberkenny recounts his night at the WHCD after a shooter attempted to gain entry.
It started as any White House Correspondents’ Dinner is supposed to go—I assume. I’ve never been to one before this, but based on other events I’ve attended at the Hilton, including an HRC gala, it all seemed fairly normal.
There was a lot of traffic. Police had blocked off streets encompassing a large portion of Adams Morgan—particularly around the hotel. The president was making his first appearance after boycotting the event during his first term, so there was a sense of anticipation. It took me about 45 minutes to go just under a mile from my apartment to about three blocks from the hotel in my Uber. I waited until the last possible second before I felt like I was going to be late—6:30—to get out of the car, because it was raining and I was wearing my green tux.
I walked up to a group of people checking tickets at the base of the hotel. They seemed to just be glancing at the tiny, index-card-sized tickets rather than conducting any kind of full security screening outside. As I walked from that first checkpoint to the drive-around drop-off area, I joined what was essentially one long line for the red carpet. It eventually split into people who wanted photos and those who didn’t—but again, there was no real need to show anything beyond that small ticket upon entering, and even that wasn’t being checked closely.
A light went off in my head; I felt that, given the speed at which security was checking tickets, they couldn’t fully see the foil logo and tiny table numbers from that distance. I remember thinking that if I had a similarly sized piece of paper, I could have gotten through up to that point.
I also noticed there was no real security checkpoint or metal detectors upon initially entering the hotel grounds—unlike what I had seen at the HRC gala the year before.
I waited about 35 minutes in line in the car drop-off area—without cars, since it had been repurposed to corral press and their guests before entering the building and heading onto the red carpet. I took my photo, then went up the escalator to meet my date, Jacob Bernard from Democracy Forward. They wouldn’t let him onto the red carpet without his ticket, so I gave him his, which I had been holding. He was already inside the venue despite not having his ticket on him and had been at one of the pre-parties.
That also struck me as odd—that you could access a pre-dinner party without a ticket or going through any visible security.
After I found him, we took a photo together at a step-and-repeat past the main red carpet area around 7:45. Oddly enough, a group of my friends—gays who I regularly see on the dance floors of the gay bars of Washington, who work in various government and media-adjacent fields—found me, and we took pictures together. None were White House correspondents or held a “hard pass” to the White House (security credentials that allow entry into the White House complex).
Another light went off in my head that indicated party crashers probably shouldn’t be getting inside to an event that is supposed to be one of the most secure rooms in the country.
After the photos, I could see groups of people being moved from pre-party spaces in various meeting rooms on other floors and directed toward the main floor where the red carpet had been.
My guest and I went back up to the main floor and walked through a small security checkpoint that included only a handful of metal detectors. From there, I went down the stairs from the lobby into the International Ballroom, where we took our seats at Table 200. I talked to a few people I knew—very traditional pre-event chit-chat. The vibes felt good. It was my first time attending, and I was genuinely excited.
Around 8:15, the Marine Corps Band played and “Commandant’s Four” color guard presented the flags. We were then told to take our seats.
They introduced the head table—the president, first lady, vice president, and members of the White House Correspondents’ Association board. Weijia Jiang, senior White House correspondent for CBS News and president of the WHCA, gave a brief speech, essentially saying we would eat first and then move into the main program, which was supposed to feature mentalist Oz Pearlman.
At this point my table, 200 which included members of the Wall Street Journal, the Blade, and a European outlet all started eating. About 15 minutes later, Washington Hilton staff began clearing plates and preparing to bring out the next course.
As they cleared the plates, I heard four loud bangs.
I saw hotel employees immediately start ducking. They seemed to understand the gravity of the situation much faster than most attendees, including myself. At first, it sounded like a tray might have fallen over (but I later found out that wasn’t the case).
After about 30 seconds of watching some people duck, others look around in confusion, and some continue eating and drinking, I got down. I kneeled with my chair in front of me as a kind of barrier. Being at Table 200, I felt somewhat removed from where the actual incident occurred.
Then I saw the president being whisked away quickly by Secret Service, along with the first lady and others at the head table.
My reporter instincts kicked in. I grabbed my phone and started filming. I saw SWAT team members rush into the ballroom and onto the stage, clearing the area. I captured a video of people looking around, confused about what had just happened.
A few minutes later, the room was told by the WHCA president to hold on—that they would provide more information and guidance on what would happen next. There was some indication that they might try to continue the event despite what had occurred.
Everyone started frantically checking X to see if any major outlets were reporting. I was receiving texts from family, friends, and colleagues about the rapidly unfolding situation.
I walked to the bathroom—twice, technically. I couldn’t find it initially because it was hidden behind black curtains. (Later, those curtains were removed, and the men’s room was in clearer view.)
During the first walk to the bathroom, I called my editor to tell him what was happening. He instructed me to start sending copy to another editor, who would get it online. The ballroom had almost no service—it’s in the basement of a 12-story hotel—so it was a challenge. I utilized SMS fallback (since iMessage wasn’t working) to send updates.
I returned to the table, where people were still hovering—calling editors, scrolling, texting, sending photos and copy. I was already drafting my story and sending it in chunks, adding details as I gathered more information.
I walked my guest toward the bathroom again, which was on the opposite side of the ballroom from our table, so I had to cross what felt like a sea of journalists, PR officials, guests, and others on their phones, talking and scrolling. My guest pointed out that the press pool was being held in an alcove away from the ballroom doors and escalator exit—not in the ballroom with everyone else.
“Alive” by the Bee Gees was playing over the speakers in the bathroom, which felt a little too on the nose.
On my way out, I heard someone speaking over a microphone and rushed to the ballroom entrance. WHCA President Weijia Jiang was speaking. She announced that the event was over and the space was being evacuated.
She also said that President Trump would hold a press conference at the White House in about 25 minutes.
That’s when I knew it was a race against the clock.
I called my editor a second time to update him and asked if I should head to the briefing (knowing the answer would be yes). He confirmed.
Then the crowd began to move. People grabbed purses, bottles—some left belongings behind. Even though it was technically becoming a crime scene, no one was actively forcing us out. It felt more like a collective understanding: It was time to go.
I texted my guest: “OK, I have to go to the White House. I’m so sorry to leave you.”
I made my way with the sea of people toward the one exit we were allowed to use and zipped between women in fancy gowns and men looking like penguins.
I put on my hard press pass, opened the Capital Bikeshare app, reserved the closest e-bike, and headed out.
I walked up Columbia Road to 20th and Wyoming, grabbed the bike, and rode down Wyoming, then 18th, cut over to U Street, and went straight down 16th to the White House. That ride was exhilarating. I also filmed an Instagram Reel updating my followers on what was going on. I could see tourists and D.C. residents alike looking at me from their cars and the sidewalk, obviously confused as to why a man dressed in a tux had hopped on a bike.
I got off the bike where 16th Street meets Lafayette Square and darted toward the first White House security checkpoint, where they were verifying press credentials. Luckily, I had mine. After that, it turned into a mad dash. Everyone who made it through started moving quickly.
The sound of heels on what I think was cobblestone—or maybe brick—sticks with me. My own shoes were clacking as I ran toward the White House alongside other journalists in heels and dress shoes.
At the Secret Service checkpoint, there was a separate line for hard pass holders. Having my hard pass let me skip much of the impeccably dressed line of journalists who didn’t think to bring their hard pass with them.
It was probably the most exquisitely dressed press crowd I’ve ever seen—tuxedos, gowns, full makeup. It felt like something out of “The Hunger Games.”
I went through security, put my belongings through the metal detector, entered my code, grabbed my things, and ran to the briefing room.

National
BREAKING NEWS: Shots fired at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner
Shooter reportedly opened fire inside hotel
Four loud bangs were heard in the International Ballroom of the Washington Hilton during the annual White House Correspondents’ Dinner on Saturday.
According to the Associated Press, a shooter opened fire inside the hotel outside the ballroom.
Attendees could hear four loud bangs as people started to duck and take cover. During the chaos sounds of salad and glasses were dropped as hotel employees, and guests ducked for cover.
The head table — which included President Donald Trump, Vice President JD Vance, first lady Melania Trump, and White House Correspondents Association President Weijia Jiang — were rushed off stage.
“The U.S. Secret Service, in coordination with the Metropolitan Police Department, is investigating a shooting incident near the main magnetometer screening area at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner,” the U.S. Secret Service said in a statement. “The president and the First Lady are safe along all protects. One individual is in custody. The condition of those involved is not yet known, and law enforcement is actively assessing the situation.”
Trump held a press conference at the White House after he left the hotel.
“A man charged a security checkpoint armed with multiple weapons and he was taken down by some very brave members of Secret Service,” said Trump.
Trump said the shooter is from California. He also said an officer was shot, but said his bullet proof vest “saved” him.
D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser, interim D.C. police chief Jeffrey Carroll, U.S. Attorney for D.C. Jeanine Pirro, and other officials held their own press conference at the hotel.
Carroll said the gunman who has been identified as Cole Tomas Allen was armed with a shotgun, handgun, and “multiple” knives when he charged a Secret Service checkpoint in a hotel lobby. Carroll also told reporters that law enforcement “exchanged gunfire with that individual.”
Both he and Bowser said the gunman appeared to act alone.
“We are so very thankful to members of law enforcement who did their jobs tonight and made sure all guests were safe,” said Bowser. “Nobody else was involved.”
The Washington Blade will update this story as details become more available.
District of Columbia
Community mourns passing of D.C. trans rights advocate SaVanna Wanzer
Acclaimed activist credited with founding D.C. Trans Pride
Three D.C.-based LGBTQ advocacy organizations released statements on April 24 announcing that highly acclaimed D.C. transgender rights advocate SaVanna Wanzer has passed away.
A family member told the Blade that Wanzer died on Friday, April 24 of natural causes. She was 63.
Among other things, the advocacy groups noted that Wanzer is credited with being the lead founder of the D.C. Trans Pride and D.C. Black Trans Pride celebrations and events.
“As a trailblazing transgender activist, educator, and founder of D.C. Trans Pride, D.C. Black Trans Pride, and May Is All About Trans, SaVanna created and led transformative transgender programming during D.C. Black Pride that ensured trans voices, stories, leadership, and lived experiences were centered, celebrated, and protected,” according to the statement from the Center for Black Equity, an LGBTQ organization.
“Her work was not just about representation, it was about liberation, community, and making sure Black Trans lives were honored in rooms, stages, policies, and movements that too often overlooked them,” the statement says.
In its own statement, the Human Rights Campaign, the nation’s largest LGBTQ advocacy organization, called Wanzer an icon of D.C.’s Black trans community and longtime leader in many LGBTQ organizations.
“SaVanna Wanzer was a D.C. legend,” Tori Cooper, HRC’s Director of Strategic Outreach and Training, said in the statement. “She advocated for many years for the trans community and for people living with HIV, and served with many organizations, including D.C. Black Pride, Capital Pride, and NMAC [National Minority AIDS Council],” the statement adds.
“I can say firsthand that SaVanna will not just be missed for her work, but for her sisterly wisdom and her sense of humor,” Cooper said in the HRC statement.
In its own statement, Capital Pride Alliance, which organizes D.C.’s annual LGBTQ Pride events, called Wanzer a “trailblazer” in her role as founder of Capital Trans Pride, D.C. Black Trans Pride, and the May Is All About Trans events. It says she served on the Capital Pride Board of Directors
“SaVanna was not just an advocate and community organizer but also a knowledge holder and elder voice in our movement,” the statement adds
In an undated statement on its website released before Wanzer’s passing, the D.C. group Food and Friends, which provides home-delivered meals to people in need, including people with HIV and cancer, says Wanzer had been one of its clients in the past. It says she had been living with heart problems since she was 16 and learned she had HIV in 1985 when she went to donate blood while working at the time for the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. It also says she had diabetes, which was under control.
Among her many involvements, Wanzer also served as a volunteer for D.C.’s Whitman-Walker Health, which provides medical services for the LGBTQ community along with other communities. In 2015, Whitman-Walker selected Wanzer as the first recipient of its Robert Fenner Urquhart Award for her volunteer services at Whitman-Walker for more than 20 years.
The Center for Black Equity appeared to capture the sentiment of those in the LGBTQ community who knew Wanzer in the concluding part of its statement on her passing.
“Her vision continues to guide us,” it says. “Her courage continues to inspire us. Her impact will continue to live through every person, every Pride, and every space made more possible because she dared to lead,” it says. “Rest in power, SaVanna Wanzer. Your light remains with us.”
The family member said funeral arrangements are expected to be announced early next week. This story will be updated.
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