“On the humid night of June 27, 1969, people gathered at the back of a dark and dirty bar. They came every night—young gay men, transgender women, street youth, lesbians, and gender-nonconforming people. After long days of working on an assembly line, answering phones, or hustling on the avenues of New York City’s Greenwich Village, they came to the Stonewall Inn for friendship and a drink.

In the corner, the jukebox churned, racking up dimes and pumping out anthems of love and heartache. By midnight, as June 28 began, nearly 200 regular patrons moved to the beat, the air thick and sticky on their skin. Here in the back room of a grimy bar, they felt strong and beautiful, showing off for one another and holding each other close. The bar was not a nice place; the glasses were never washed and the windows were boarded up. But no one really cared about that. The bar was a place where they could feel loved and free from judgment.

Outside, a full moon hung high over New York City, witnessing the heat of the late June night. It was a night for endings and beginnings, for sparks and flames, for defiance and change. And in a room just a few blocks away, another group gathered. ”