Steven LaChance Blog

We were in Key West for their Pride celebration when we got news of the Pulse massacre. I remember exactly where I was and how it felt when I first heard about what had happened. The contrast between the night before and the morning after still stays with me. It was like something shifted — a door reopened, one we had hoped was closed for good.

Everything we’re living through now in the LGBTQIA+ community can trace some of its roots back to that day. That horrific event cracked something open again. I’ll never forget the overwhelming sadness I felt, not just that day, but in the days and weeks that followed. That feeling has never fully gone away. It lingers, like so many other moments etched into our queer lives.

People sometimes ask why Pride is still necessary. This is one of the reasons why. Point to this. Let them see what we’ve endured and how we’ve responded — not with silence, but with love, memory, and resistance.

The night before it happened, we were on a Pride sunset cruise on a catamaran. We were surrounded by community, by joy. I remember all of us singing Born This Way at the top of our lungs. That memory now plays back in my head like a slow-motion reel. So many happy faces, so full of life — something in that was taken the very next morning.

Later, after we heard the news, we joined a silent march to the water’s edge. A wreath was laid in memorial. Stuart, Harvey Milk’s nephew, was there with us. He reminded us of his uncle’s words: “If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door.” That tragedy at Pulse did just that. Like so many acts of hate before it, it opened doors in painful but undeniable ways.

I still carry those moments with me. They’re part of my heart now.