Marlo Rhodes: being seen for six decades

"We were outcasts with no chance of fitting in -- until we found each other."

Marlo grew up in Milwaukee’s northern and northwestern communities, including West Bend, Rockfield, Brown Deer, and Port Washington. By age 15, she was already taking the bus to downtown Milwaukee -- searching for people like herself.

"I remember playing pinball at the bus station,” said Marlo, “and a man came up to me and asked if I liked to play games. I was excited, scared, a whole range of emotions. I had no idea what to expect. We went home to his rooming house. He decided I was going to stay there until he said I could leave."

"I stayed there for two days before I escaped in the middle of the night. As it turned out, the door was not locked – but my fear had kept me there.”

“I was arrested once for a minor traffic violation, and the dirtiest, slimiest, most vile cop said to me, ‘the cows at home look better than you, if you’re into cows.’”

“This was survival for us. My friends would talk about police picking up ‘cross dressers’ and taking them behind the Pabst Brewery for sexual favors. If you refused, you were going to jail. You might go to jail anyway. You might be publicly strip searched. You just never knew."

"Only within the last 20-25 years have our people seen any decent treatment.”

Finding the friend of a lifetime

Soon, Marlo met her best friend of a lifetime: Miss Tracey.

“I took a job at the 2010 Club (2010 S. Kinnickinnic) waiting tables. One night, Miss Tracey came into the bar while I was working, and we got to talking. The next night, she came back in full drag and entered our Halloween contest. Of course, Mickey Chanel was there in a sparkling evening gown, so she took the title. Tracey came in second place. It helped that I was one of the judges!”

“Tracey asked me for my address, because in those days, we couldn’t afford phones. I was on 19^th and State near the Milwaukee Rescue Mission. At 8 a.m. the next morning, Tracey showed up on my doorstep with a bag of Polish sausages in one hand and a bottle of Pepsi in the other. This was my “morning after” cure for Halloween! We started hanging out all the time after that.”

Marlo remembers the first night she went out dressed as a woman – which was also her debut at the Nite Beat.

“Tracey wanted me to go this event with her, but I’d never done anything like that,” said Marlo. “So we went down to the South Side, and they had women’s suits on sale for $9.99. I bought a plain blue suit with white lace. Tracey got one in metallic gold. I’d never been in high heels before, except my mother’s. But we went out dressed anyway. And I looked so good!

“As it turned out, the event was at the Nite Beat. They had this little show going on. One of the lesbians shaved my legs! We went down this walkway through the bar, but Tracey was rushing me the whole time because she wanted to get the next bus to the black bars. She wanted to go out cruising for men!”

“Tracey always loved the fact I was a month older than her,” said Marlo, “until we heard that whoever dressed you in drag the first time was your mother. I just looked at Tracey and said HA! She didn’t like that very much.”

"We were the best of friends and the worst of enemies. But we were also the ones who stayed together, as friends, for 50 years. How many people can say that?"

Marlo meets the parents

Marc’s Big Boy, at 5^th and Wisconsin, was the scene of a special memory for Marlo.

“It had been a few years since I’d seen my mother,” said Marlo, “and she didn’t know about the transgender thing yet. I was living with a guy at the time. So, I wore this purple, fur-lined, Audrey Hepburn suit with a big hat. I’m walking towards my mother and she’s leaning back because she doesn’t recognize me. All she sees is that this woman coming at her has great legs and great fashions. Finally, I said, “Mom, it’s me.”

“My dad hated me my entire life, but after I transitioned, he started to treat me very well,” said Marlo. 

“Years later, I went home to see my father as Marlo. There was now a mutual politeness between us that had never been there before. I got to see my younger sister, who was just a child when I left home, due to a 14-year age difference. I finally got to know her.”

Although Marlo made a remarkable reconnection with her father, her older sisters were still not so welcoming.

“I showed up for a family event, and my sister said she, her husband, and daughter were all going to leave if I stayed,” said Marlo. “My father said, all my children are welcome in this house. And that was final. I was shocked because I’d been packing my things to go. I never expected him to speak up for me like that."

"Unfortunately, he passed away not much later.”

Reflecting on a life well lived

As someone who struggled so long, and so hard, to break into “cliques,” Marlo worries that the LGBTQ community is rapidly growing apart.

“The word transgender is an accepted term today, but it still feels foreign to me. Transsexual was the word they used when I was coming up,” she said. “And now there is the nonbinary community, and so many other communities emerging. The 80s and 90s changed so much about our lives. We were all fighting the same enemies. Drag and trans people got along. Lesbians and gay men shared spaces. The cliques were shattered: there was no more ‘fitting in,’ we all just came together."

"I don't mean for anyone not to become the best individual they can be, but I do worry that we’re just not coming together anymore. We’re moving into separate cliques again.”

“It seems there are no real gay bars anymore,” said Marlo. “Not like there once were. Everywhere is mixed. It’s a little disappointing. You have nowhere to go where you can just be yourself. You must always have your guard up.”

She has warm memories of The Tool Box (formerly Kathy’s Nut Hut,) a “come as you are” neighborhood bar where everyone knew your name and everyone could just be themselves. While it wasn't exclusively a lesbian bar anymore, it had a special feeling of community.  It's still open to this day, but there aren't many places left like that anymore.

Marlo lived in Walker’s Point for 27 years before relocating to Hartford, Wisconsin. She’s closer now to caregivers and family members now, as she navigates the "rewards of old age."  She’s proud of her lifelong friendships, including a close friend whose baby daughter is now a mom herself – and a Milwaukee County Circuit Court judge.

“I sent her to her first day of school,” said Marlo, “and look at her now. We spend holidays together. I was there when she campaigned with the gay community. I was there when she was sworn in. I couldn’t be prouder. And she has always loved me just the way I am.”

“But even today, when I attend something like that, I freeze up a little – because I’m on guard that someone is going to say something about me. I shouldn’t feel this way, after all the places I've been in my life, but that’s just the way I am, and will always be.  That's what got me this far."