What Homosexual Mass Arrests at One Michigan Rest Stop Teach Us
A culture of fear and silence lead to 206 people being arrested over nine years
Rebecca VanderKooi
Article Details:
Rebecca VanderKooi
August 1, 2026
Gay cruising is the slang term referring to men discreetly seeking out anonymous sexual encounters in places like bathhouses, waterfronts, parks, restrooms, and other places. While cruising has existed for an indeterminate period, the slang and culture surrounding it really blossomed throughout the 1960s (and beyond).
Throughout the United States, cruising locations emerged, and Michigan was no exception. Prominent cruising locations arose at parks, at the University of Michigan, and most notably, at the network of rest stops along major highways throughout the state. One such rest stop was in Kent County, in Byron Township, situated off of US 131 between 68th Street and 54th Street. The location has since been demolished for freeway expansion. However, during a nine-year period from 1977 to 1986, it became one of the most popular Michigan rest stop cruising locations in the state. During this time period, there were six publicized mass arrests, arresting a total of 206 people. It is certainly possible, and even likely, that there were more arrests outside of these big mass arrests simply because my research is focused on arrests that made the newspaper, and not every arrest did. We know this because, in Washtenaw County, Michigan, after a mass arrest in 1989, an officer noted that the total was 130 or 140 arrests over nine months. Only a fraction of those arrests were publicized.
Below is a glance at the six main arrests that took place at the Kent County rest stop. One note on the language surrounding charges: the newspapers didn’t use a uniform way to discuss charges. In some cases, they would give the legal official charge; others were more vague or didn’t mention charges at all. However, my research of mass arrests throughout the state has shown that during this period, the most common charges were either gross indecency, attempting to procure gross indecency, or misdemeanor charges related to indecent exposure. Also, a note on the ‘policing method’: more of these arrests likely involved plainclothes officers in undercover operations, as that was the most common type of surveillance at rest stops during this period. However, if an article didn’t explicitly state that undercover operations were used, I didn’t include it.

The Average Man Frequenting the Stop
The police paint a clear picture of who these men were in their accounts to the local newspaper. Of the 1977 arrests, they explained that the men were “guy next door” types; there were no ultra-wealthy or impoverished folks, and only two men had previous records. The 1982 arrests provided further details, explaining that the men had respectable reputations, good jobs, and that one was even a clergyman. The 1979 records added more details about the occupations of those arrested, including a physician, a factory worker, an orchard grower, and a maintenance man. These were not hardened criminals, but rather, as the police called them, “closet gays.” Many were from the local Kent County area, but the 1983 mass arrest noted that some men were from Kalamazoo, Ann Arbor, Detroit, Illinois, and Indiana. Following the 1983 arrest, police also noted that nearly half the men arrested were married. Because many of the men were married with families; they had the most to lose if the truth about their identity came out.
It’s important to look at the political demographics of Kent County to understand how pervasive the closet culture truly was. “Traditionally, Kent County has been a Republican-leaning county, and its sort of dominant political culture has been in the spirit of Gerald Ford through Reagan-Bush conservatism, but that started to change right around the (Barack) Obama years,” Whitt Kilburn, a political science professor at Grand Valley State University, explained.
It wasn’t just the politics of the area that made coming out an immense challenge for some; in 1980, Kent County was 19.1% Catholic, 15% mainline Protestant, and 14.5% Evangelical Protestant. Additionally, Grand Rapids (part of Kent County) had (and still has) an incredibly strong Dutch-Calvinist subculture. What this means is that, amongst the Christian right during this time (and often still today), there were strong antigay beliefs. According to a paper in the Oxford Academic, “The Christian Right of the 1980s used antigay themes and rhetoric to raise money and to motivate its members.”
The Christian Reformed Church, which has strong ties to Calvinism (and has its US headquarters in Grand Rapids), has its views on homosexuality on its website. They say, “Homosexual practice, however, is incompatible with obedience to the will of God as revealed in Scripture. The church affirms that it must exercise the same compassion for same-sex oriented persons in their sins as it exercises for all other sinners.” They further explain that this has been their position since the 1973 synod.
Finally, there were some pushes in the 1970s and 1980s in the Catholic church calling for more acceptance of gay people. However, even today the church is still largely against same-sex individuals acting on their desires and won’t bless same sex marriages.
The political and religious background of the county provides context regarding why men would be so afraid to come out, especially men who were married and had families. Naturally, they’d be more inclined to meet up for anonymous sex at rest stops.
According to the Grand Rapids Press in 1977, many of these men pleaded guilty, and they did so to ‘sweep it under the rug.’ They were aware their names wouldn’t be published, and because of that, they opted not to fight the charges. The article noted that if their names had been published, they likely would have fought the charges. This is because for many of these men, their priority was their reputation and appearance within the community.
In 1977, one man’s lawyer said, “I can’t say how it will turn out with their families…It probably will take years to gauge the full effect. It’s something that will have to be worked out by the families.”
In 1985, a lawyer, David Piontkowsky, who represented over 100 men with similar homosexual charges, also weighed. In the local Grand Rapids Press he noted that since most of these men were married with children, they were often very conflicted and confused about their sexuality. The arrests often caused many “to lose their jobs, their wives, the affection of their children,” Piontkowsky said. “Some have even committed suicide…that’s a very high price to pay for whatever social ill we’re trying to cure.”
How Did They Find Out About the Stop?
Understanding who these men were begs the question: how did they know about the rest stop? If they were often from communities that were deeply conservative, deeply traditionally religious, or both, how would they know about this thriving cruising subculture?
The newspaper records at the time highlight a few main ways that these men likely learned of these spaces. The biggest way was through ‘Bob Damron’s Address Book,’ which included ‘cruisy’ locations across the country. The Kent County rest stop was one of multiple Michigan rest stops and other locations listed in the 1977 edition of the book. In 1977, the prosecutor’s office explained that they would mail a letter to Bob Damron requesting that their rest stop be removed from his book. It appears the letter was unsuccessful, as the rest stop remained popular for many more years.
The police also noted, following the 1983 arrest, that the restroom walls were used like a bulletin board where men wrote times, dates, and locations where they could be met for specific sexual encounters. It’s certainly possible that someone could have stopped at the rest stop, not knowing it was a cruising location, but then, upon seeing the graffiti on the walls, been clued in.
Another possible way men found out about the space was noted in the Herald-Palladium on October 21, 1982. This newspaper said of the Kent County rest stop arrests: “One of the men who was arrested told detectives he learned of the rest stop’s reputation from a message scrawled on the bathroom wall at an adult movie theater.”
Police Methods
While there is only one confirmed instance of plainclothes/undercover officers making the arrests at the Kent County rest stop, this number is likely much higher, given that, according to my research of 26 mass arrests at rest stops statewide, 65% of them were confirmed undercover operations. This also matches up with a 1966 report in the Grand Rapids Press on December 16. ”The way we get these guys is to flood an area with young, good-looking fellows and then move in after the subject makes a pass,” a former vice squad officer explained.
The use of undercover officers also makes sense, given a column in the Lansing State Journal on May 6, 1987. Mark Grebner, a political consultant and attorney, wrote a piece called ‘Prosecuting gay men solves no problems’ for the paper’s ‘Point of View’ column. He outlined that many of the men caught up in these mass arrests were deeply closeted and terrified of being caught.
In reference to a mass arrest in Lansing, he explained, “The very reason the police relied on videotaping was that the activity always ended when anyone entered the room. To actually see anything, the officer had to pretend to be interested in participating–which the courts ruled illegal.”
Because of the men’s likely terror at the prospect of getting caught, it makes the most sense that many of these arrests were made by undercover officers.
Following the 1983 mass arrest, Michigan Department of Transportation officials even sought to force time limits at the Michigan rest areas, though, as far as I’ve seen, it never passed. In 1986, the state also introduced a toll-free telephone number so motorists could report problems around the clock.
Openly Gay Response
Many of the men caught up in these arrests were closeted, and many had a wife and children. But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t an openly gay community in the area, or that there weren’t spaces like gay bars for the community to gather. As a lawyer said in 1977, “At the bars, the guys are branded, and I don’t think they want that stamp.”
Following the 1983 arrest, there was a picnic at Douglas Walker Park in Byron Township for Gay and Lesbian Pride, and the gay community gave their opinions of the arrests. In the June 28, 1983 edition of The Grand Rapids Press, an openly gay man named Joe Hope explained, “These are guys who can’t afford to park the car out in front of the local fag bar.” Keith Pekel added that, “There’s always going to be perverts - straight or gay. Until these people can come out, they’ll be in the shadows doing something murky.” Pekel and others at the picnic wanted to emphasize that those arrested shouldn’t be lumped with the broader gay community.
“They’re craving for recognition, release, and probably some physical affection,” said Pekel. “They need help.”
Following a mass arrest in Kalamazoo, south of Kent County, an advocacy group, The Association of Gay Students, had a slightly different perspective. According to the Kalamazoo Gazette on November 18, 1978, the organization planned to sponsor fundraising events to help cover the legal costs of the men arrested.
“We’re not saying that laws weren’t broken, we’re questioning the method of obtaining evidence, the severity of the charges, and the suppression order,” Edward Peeler, president of the Association of Gay Students, said.
Conclusion
This particular rest stop in Byron Township, Kent County, had the most publicized mass arrests I have been able to locate in my research. Understanding the broader demographics of the county, including its political and religious beliefs, explains why so many men were closeted and willing to have risky anonymous sex.
These brief anonymous encounters created the illusion of safety. However, it was only an illusion because arrests were commonplace, and as Alan Bell, a former Kinsey researcher, explained in the Detroit Free Press on March 28, 1986, “My God-given AIDS, it’s an awful, awful prospect of what could happen. But, for the men, it’s one place where there is total anonymity. Nobody knows anybody. It’s quick, it’s over in a very short time, and they go on their way.”