28 Comments

A friend of mine messaged me this evening, " Do you remember Lefty?" My reply, "Yup, how could you forget?" And how could you? She was such an icon of that DC, those times, a deep conundrum. Every encounter with her felt like barely eluded violence for sheer proximity. Thank you for this tender tribute. I never could understand but it had to be such a relentless rejection of herself that drove her. RIP Kendall.

Expand full comment

Thanks for this, in every way. I spoke recently with a figurehead of that scene about Lefty. He said, with characteristic bluntness: "She just couldn't love herself." RIP.

Expand full comment

RIP Lefty. She stuck up for me one time when some gross dude was following me and pestering me near Dupont Circle. It was late, streets were mostly empty, and I was just leaving a shift at Cafe Rabelais, where I worked. This was an odd contrast to the many times I had witnessed her starting fights and bullying pretty much everyone (sometimes she even turned against those white skinhead boys who idolized her).

As a not yet out gay person myself in the mid ‘80’s, she always was intriguing to me because she was so very butch; I was drawn to her and felt a kinship. But she was so unpredictable. It never felt safe to try to befriend her.

I’m glad to know that someone who had history w her was by her side in her final hours.

I wish I could make it to her memorial today. Thanks for sharing this, Seth. I also sent this to my little brother, who she frequently beat the shit out of and stole things from 😂.

Expand full comment

Ugh. Thank YOU. It was so confusing trying to decipher the theater of the punk scene. And what damage we do when we don't love ourselves.

Expand full comment

Yes! The damage we do when we don’t love ourselves. Exactly.

Expand full comment

Beautiful story about the complex layers of humanity and vulnerability that underlie acts of violence - thank you Seth!

Expand full comment

Ah, thank YOU, friend!

Expand full comment

I loved this recollection. What a liberating gift for the both of you: to forgive, and be forgiven.

Expand full comment

Great piece! I’ll never forget the first time I meet her. Thanks for sharing this

Expand full comment

Totally! And gratified this piece resonated with those who knew her—and the many who didn’t!

Expand full comment

Excellent write up, curious reading an East coast take. I grew up in PDX just after the Skinhead battles. I remember a few darker skinned Skinheads around. It’s even more curious with the knowledge of Portland’s much older history of strict racism.

Expand full comment

1000%

Expand full comment

I fell through the cracks being a lightly tanned to dark tanned kid with a skateboard and footbag. Though after hitting 40; family uncovered details that showed my skin confusion being from a 1/16 Ojibwe of blood in my veins. Always wondered how different my life may have been if I was full blooded Ojibwe

Zhawenim Miziwekameg

Expand full comment

Got to know Lefty after she came back around to hang out, after she had been ejected from the DC scene by the other skinheads, this was 1986-1987, another skin that had been banished, Gavin Blakely, was a mutual friend so Lefty hung out with our crew in VA for awhile.

I never saw her in action, but knew some stories, she had been to my house hanging out many times and was always a very nice person. Showed me her gun, a Walther P-38. She came down to the old 9:30 for a show , but some of the old skins like Steve Squint, just ignored her...all and all i had no complaints about her at the time and she was always welcome to stop by.

She also served in the military and was a MP.

Expand full comment

What a brilliant piece, Seth. This isn’t a scene or a person I knew, but I felt every bit of it. So evocative and moving—and complex, as was she, it sounds. She was sure unique, and yet I’m reminded of people I knew growing up in LA who were charismatic and violent… so easy to dismiss as one thing. What I like most is how much of her story you’re telling here. Really glad to have found your work.

Expand full comment

Hey, thank YOU Rob. What a gift. Glad it touched something in you.

Expand full comment

Oh, Seth, I love this piece. I love the searching for understanding, the tenderness in people that allows them to recognize tenderness and others even when it’s hidden. Thank you for sharing.

Expand full comment

Ah, thank YOU, friend! Truly. Appreciate the readership and the reflection....

Expand full comment

I never had a violent encounter with Lefty but I saw quite a few of them. She walked up to me at the 9:30 once and told me I had a pretty face and I said I’d always thought they same of her and then she smiled and I am probably imagining that it was almost shy and then she kept walking and beat up

Some poor motherfucker who was just minding his own business. RIP Spike

Expand full comment

Oh man. So many bizarre juxtapositions. And also: Maybe not so bizarre after all. Thank you for sharing this.

Expand full comment

I first read about Lefty in the Banned In DC book when it first came out in the U.K. I was fascinated by the DCHC scene and loved Minor Threat , Faith and G.I. and studied the photos of the bands and the crowds looking for clues about how kids dressed . I was kinda stunned reading about her and baffled too but understood that misplaced rage that gravitates towards scenes that have an intense soundtrack and tough veneer.

Expand full comment

Feel this. It was SO confusing. I recall discussing Lefty's mini-skinhead army with friends, asking: "Don't they know she's Black?!?"

Expand full comment

I loved the description of how you both first met - my guess is that survivors intuitively understand each other . I've had so many experiences like this encountering people in crazy circumstances...like being surrounded by neo- nazi skinheads and avoiding a major ass kicking but that's another story .

Expand full comment

Ha! Maybe that's one you should write!

Expand full comment

I dont think the DC skin heads , the old school ones, Mike Da Skin, Blue, certainly not Steve Squint, could be painted with such a broad brush, i didnt know any that were white supremacists, some were USA Nationalists, some were Krishnas, many were just drunk, i hadnt seen any neo-nazi skins untill i came to Pennsauken NJ in the early 90s, though im sure some were influenced by UK skins which were more Aryan centric than the ones we had in general.

Expand full comment

Thanks for sharing another beautiful story, Seth. I met Lefty just once at Food for Thought. I was at the counter waiting to pay, wearing the WWII bomber jacket my father was pleased I liked and happily gave me. I had painted on back in white, pale blue, and black, a symbol I’d seen somewhere— I think it was an inverted triangle intertwined with snakes? Anyway, Lefty came over to ask me about it. I told her I just thought it looked cool. She said, “it’s an Aryan symbol” and walked away. Did I get an eye roll for my cluelessness? There was certainly nothing more. I kinda still feel the embarrassment of my cluelessness, about what I’d done to my father’s jacket; was grateful to Letfy for cutting its debut so short.

Expand full comment

Funny, I painted on my father's Army jacket (and quickly regretted doing so). I wonder now if Lefty was being truthful with you, or just yanking your chain....

Expand full comment

😅🤣

Expand full comment