For LGBT community, fear, concern — and pride

John Paul Brammer, 25, of New York City woke up Sunday to his roommate crying hysterically.

The deadliest shooting spree in U.S. history had just taken place at a gay nightclub in Orlando. And even more wrenching: It happened during LGBT Pride month, a celebration that arose from violence against LGBT people.

For Brammer, a gay man, the reality was a variation on the vision that reels through his head daily. "Today feels like being inside the darkest place in the dark cloud that is always hovering around queer people,” Brammer said Sunday. "I am afraid. I am always afraid. When I get dressed, when I leave my house, when I say something, I think: 'Will I be attacked for this?’"

Police said a heavily armed assailant opened fire at Pulse nightclub, a high-energy dance club that was hosting a Latin Night celebration. The gunman, identified as Omar Mateen 29, a New York-born resident of Fort Pierce, Fla., killed 50 people before being shot and killed by police.

While officials said Mateen pledged allegiance to the Islamic State, the motivation of the shooter continued to be under investigation by the FBI.

No matter the motive, members of the gay community stood in solidarity with the victims of Sunday's carnage in Orlando. A number of cities across the U.S. held solemn vigils at Sunday Pride events, including San Francisco, Phoenix, Charlotte, Portland, Nashville and Atlanta.

"Throughout history, the LGBT community has been under assault — both physical violence and political attacks by those who want to marginalize us," San Francisco Supervisor Scott Wiener, a gay man, said in a statement. "We mourn those who perished in this terrible tragedy, and we recommit ourselves to fight for peace, acceptance and equality."

"We should have seen it coming — that’s what kills me,” said Sara Baker, 50, who lives in Worcester, Vt. with her wife Danielle, a transgender woman.

“They were celebrating. Just the idea of celebrating pride and being attacked — it hits you at the core of joy,” Baker said. "All of our naiveté is just gone now."

The tragedy was not far from people's minds at the DC Pride festival in the nation's capital. While firetrucks sprayed water onto people and multiple stages played music, tables and stands at the festival were accepting donations on behalf of Orlando's LGBT center.

Pepper Mashay, 63, from Los Angeles, a singer and dancer who performed at the opening night in D.C. and rode on a float during the parade Saturday, said she hopes the response to the shooting will not only spread awareness about violence against LGBT people but also address the issue of gun violence in general.

"It's nothing but hate. When I was at the park yesterday, you had religious fanatics lambasting our community. You're putting hate and anger into people," Mashay said. "The shooting shows that we need to be more organized and politically active."

Nick Wieland, 25, who was also attending the Washington festival said he hoped "this increases the conversation around violence against the community."

Isis Rose, 30, saw it more starkly: "It illustrates undeniably ... what we're up against. People dismiss this issue or say it's about the little things. But this is survival."

Ben Mervis, 26, of Los Angeles, was busy responding to texts from his loved ones who were checking in with him when he saw that a man had been arrested wearing explosives on his way to the Los Angeles Pride parade. The official Twitter account for the Santa Monica Police Department's Police Chief tweeted that the suspect told police he wanted to harm the Gay Pride event.

"Everything feels very unknown," Mervis says. "We all woke up to texts from our friends and families telling us 'Don’t go anywhere, don’t do anything."

He said his friends were listening to announcements from the city of Los Angeles regarding their plans to celebrate Pride – and were remaining vigilant. "We are thinking two or three times what is our plan if there is an attack. It’s scary. But 44 years of Pride — we can’t let that go away."

Chandler Bryla, 24, of Orlando, says the nightclub tragedy is going to shape how the whole country reacts to Pride.

"Everyone is going to be on edge now. We are going to be afraid of another attack. But I think it is going to empower our community. Now more than ever we need this kind of feeling. We are who we are, we are proud about it. We are not going to cower from the situation. We are not going to let people intimidate us."

For Brammer, the violence at Pulse nightclub is proof that the world he so desperately wants to believe is becoming more accepting of LGBT rights is still a very dangerous place. Maybe he is right to worry about the clothing he puts on his body every day or the bars he chooses to frequent. Maybe. But his pride feels more important than his safety.

"I am going to all the Pride events,” Brammer says. "If we let this man turn our pride into grief, we’ve lost something. He’s taken something from us."

Contributing: Ryan Miller, Paste BN, in Washington