It was an instant attraction, a match for the ages – the ravenhaired Greek intellectual and the urbane chain-smoking revolutionary, drawn to each other at history’s turning point for gay rights. In 1970, Francesca Curtis and Phyllis Papps exchanged such rings, declaring their faithful commitment to each other at a time when homosexuality was still a criminal act. It would be the beginning of a lifelong love affair that would see the two women spend 48 years together as devoted partners. It was a relationship they never sought to hide, but which elicited whispers of disapproval in the conservative neighbourhood of Balwyn, where they lived for many decades. How they met is a story grounded in the rumbles of rebellion, they tell me from their romantic log cabin in Rhyll. Coming out, on national television no less, drew them together at a time when fondue parties were rife with the whispers of counter-culture and feminism. Francesca appeared openly as a lesbian on the TV program The Bailey File, and suddenly the fuse was lit. At the age of 26, Phyllis was watching the program, sitting between her closeted girlfriend and the boyfriend her lover was using to keep up a heterosexual charade. “It stunned me. Here was somebody saying she was a lesbian, giving her name. For me, that was the epiphany. I knew I’d always been different, but now I realised I wasn’t on my own,” says Phyllis. Francesca knew her parents wouldn’t be watching the show, but a neighbour who saw the footage promptly confronted the family, adding racist insult to her homophobic outrage. “The woman next door came to my mother and said, ‘I understand perfectly, dear. My brother goes with black women,’” says Francesca. The program offered a PO Box address for Australia’s first gay rights group, the Daughters of Bilitis, and Phyllis promptly wrote to their Melbourne chapter. The TV exposure inspired other lesbians to join the group and at one of the first parties, Phyllis and Francesca met face to face. It was an instant attraction, a match for the ages – the ravenhaired Greek intellectual and the urbane chain-smoking revolutionary, drawn to each other at history’s turning point for gay rights, sparked by the Stonewall Uprising which saw the LGBT battalion riot on the streets of New York. The Daughters of Bilitis was renamed The Australasian Lesbian Movement (ALM), the couple emerging from the group as a powerhouse for gay rights, supporting women to ‘come out’, start dating, leave their husbands or cope with rejection from their families. They beamed the cause into people’s lounge rooms when Francesca appeared on television for the second time on Channel 2’s This Day Tonight, this time with Phyllis by her side. The public outing sent shockwaves through Melbourne’s ultra-conservative community of 1970. “It was very confronting for my family,” says Phyllis. >
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