Tim Beauchamp, left, and Tony Orr experienced firsthand how crimes against gays are treated in Tulsa after they were attacked outside a local club.

Sexual Orientation Not Covered in Hate Crimes

"It certainly made me more aware of what some people will do out of hate." -- Tony Orr

Tony Orr's perception of how gays are treated in Tulsa was set only a few days after he moved to town.

Orr, 34, and his companion, Tim Beauchamp, 32, exited Concessions, a predominantly gay club on South Peoria Avenue, about 11 p.m. Sept. 5, 1997, and were walking to a nearby bank when they were approached by three men, police reported.

One of the men asked Orr whether he was gay, and Orr said he was. The men then knocked him to the ground, kicking him repeatedly in the head and stomach. When Beauchamp tried to intervene, the men also beat him.

After the attack, the men went into the club, where they were arrested by police. They reportedly told officers that they were only "rolling a couple of fags."

Orr and Beauchamp were taken by ambulance to St. Francis Hospital, where they spent the rest of the night having their wounds stitched and bandaged.

"That really set the mood," Orr said. "It certainly made me more aware of what some people will do out of hate."

But in Oklahoma, the attack on Orr and Beauchamp isn't legally considered an act of hate. Sexual orientation does not fall under the state's hate crimes law, even though race, color, religion, ancestry, national origin and disability are covered.

So, when the three suspects were dealt with in court, it was treated as any other assault and battery case.

Christopher Joel Kinsch, 20, and Michael Joseph Lechlider, 21, pleaded guilty, and Ryan Vincent Eoff, 20, pleaded no contest to one misdemeanor count each of assault and battery, First Assistant District Attorney T. Bret Swab said.

Kinsch and Eoff each were sentenced to 40 hours of community service and a suspended 90-day jail term, Swab said. Lechlider was sentenced to 40 hours of community service and a deferred 90-day jail term, which will not go on his permanent record.

Bench warrants were issued in February for Kinsch and Lechlider because they had not completed their community service, Swab said. A judge will sentence them again.

Swab said the initial sentences were not unusual, considering that none of the men had prior criminal records.

"As reprehensible as the attack was, it is legally not much different than hundreds of other cases we see in this office," he said.

Orr, however, said the way the case was handled shows that someone who attacks a gay person in Tulsa simply because he is gay can get away with a slap on the wrist.

Hate crimes typically draw harsher penalties from judges and are considered felonies after the second offense.

Twenty-one states, including Iowa, Arizona and California, include sexual orientation in their hate laws. But since Oklahoma passed its hate crimes law in 1988, attempts at including sexual orientation among its categories have been shot down by state legislators.

Including sexual orientation in the Tulsa municipal ordinance that protects potential city employees and contractors from discrimination has also fallen on deaf ears.

Gay activist Tom Neal said the exclusion of sexual orientation from these laws sends a message that gay bashing is culturally acceptable.

Because they are excluded from the laws, many victims remain silent about the crimes against them, Neal said. They are also afraid to "out" themselves by reporting attacks to police.

Police Sgt. George Haralson said victim silence is one of the main reasons his Gangs Task Force, which investigates hate crimes, has trouble informally tracking the number of gay bashings that occur in Tulsa.

Haralson said he knows of only two last year, one of which was the attack on Orr and Beauchamp.

"There may be a lot more," he said. "We don't have a real grasp on the numbers."

FBI officials say their numbers are also low. The agency reports about 1,000 gay bashings nationwide each year, but officials say those numbers aren't accurate because of states' differing laws and because it is an underreported crime.

Neal, who is the treasurer of Tulsa Oklahomans for Human Rights and publisher of Tulsa Family News, said that until strides are made to protect homosexuals, most gays and lesbians in Tulsa will continue to "fly below the radar."

But that's not the way Orr wants to spend his life.

Orr, who grew up in northeastern Oklahoma, moved back to the area last year from Savannah, Ga., where, he said, homosexuals are accepted as part of the community. It's a move he sometimes regrets.

"I would never wear something here that would label me as a gay man," he said. "I wouldn't want to take that risk."

Although he is pursuing a career as a writer and Beauchamp has a job as a systems analyst at a prominent company, picturing their future in Tulsa is difficult.

"I don't know whether we'll stay here," Orr said. "Changes need to be made (in the laws). You never demean yourself by offering protection for someone else."