Zooey Zephyr had just arrived on the outskirts of far-flung Libby, Montana, this summer when a text message came through with a warning. There were anti-LGBTQ+ protesters at the Pride celebration that was already under way on the banks of the Kootenai River.
Calm and steady, she pulled her white rental sedan into the lot and brought it to a stop. Instead of protesters, the car was immediately thronged by a cluster of fans. One, a middle-aged woman with long, wavy brown hair cascading from under a bedazzled baseball cap, asked Zephyr with urgency: “Do you remember me?”
Later that afternoon, the woman who approached Zephyr took to the Pride stage to tell her story.
