Gay Western square dancing icon William ‘Bill’ Klein dead at 70

Before William “Bill” Klein began teaching square dancing in the early 1980s in San Francisco’s gay community, it tended to be a razzle-dazzle pastiche of disco and the “Urban Cowboy” craze, other dancers say.

But once the Wilmette native started educating them about standardized calls like “Allemande left” and “Spin the Top,” his expertise helped transform that city’s dancers.

“Bill was a key figure — the first — to teach us what Western square dancing was really all about,” said his friend Steve Browning, an early member of the Western Star Dancers, a San Francisco square dancing club.

Mr. Klein learned square dancing in the Chicago area, and his prowess positioned him at the epicenter of a civil rights movement in a city associated with gay pride and power.

“After [anti-gay activist] Anita Bryant, after the assassination of Harvey Milk” — a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors who was one of the nation’s first openly gay politicians — “in San Francisco and across the LGBTQ world there was a kind of explosion,” said Scott Carey, a founding member of the Western Star Dancers. “ ‘We’re going to make our own choruses, gay softball leagues, gay Olympics, gay theater. We’re going to do our own’ — and gay square dancing is right in that mix.”

Mr. Klein, 70, a programmer and expert in COBOL, the foundational computer language, died last month at Evanston Hospital after a fall at his home in Wilmette.

Steve Browning

Mr. Klein — who worked as a programmer for Micro Focus and other companies — was a C-4 level caller, meaning he knew more than 1,000 calls and variations.

Some likened him to a drill sergeant.

But, in those pre-Internet days, he “was our ‘Google search,’ our YouTube video, our social media for all things related to square dancing,” said Carey, who lives in Hayward, California. “The history and the heritage, the dress codes, how to behave at another club’s dance or attend a regional or national convention, the expected etiquette and conventions, where to find square dance resources, how to contact callers — he taught us everything to know.”

“He helped get square dancing going on the West Coast,” said Rob Sierzega, president of the Chi-Town Squares, a Chicago LGBTQ Square Dance club. In Chicago, he “put together a series of flash cards for us to print out so we could study all the calls.”

Mr. Klein lived for decades with AIDS and experienced complications including blindness, according to his nephew Donald Adamek.

About 20 years ago, he moved back to his family home. The familiar layout made it easy to navigate. For a long period, he was able to continue dancing — and working on computers — because he could visualize keyboards and the patterns of square dancing.

Mr. Klein introduced San Francisco dancers to CALLERLAB, the Esperanto of the square dancing world, established in the 1970s to standardize commands, ensuring that square dancers anywhere can swing their partners together.

“If you learned how to do a do-si-do, it’s the same in the United States, Germany or Japan,” said Dana Schirmer, executive director of Topeka-based CALLERLAB and the International Association of Square Dance Callers.

“I think of it as being like a Busby Berkeley routine for eight people,” said Russ King, a member of the Western Star Dancers from El Cerrito, California.

The benefits of Mr. Klein’s tutelage were evident when the South Florida Mustangs — billed as the world’s first LGBTQ square dancing club — visited San Francisco in 1982. When they met up with the Western Star Dancers, a hoedown became a showdown.

“We were ragtag,” Carey said, “and they were fully capable, confident dancers.”

He remembers the Floridians as friendly but intimidating, starting with their look.

“Boots, of course,” Carey said. “ They wore black-and-white: black jeans, black shirts that were like black satin, and all the way down the sleeves was white fringe. Black hats and kerchiefs around the neck.”

When Mr. Klein started doing the calls, “We found out that our training worked,” Carey said. “We could have four Western Star people and four South Florida Mustangs in a square, and they were dancing, and we were dancing — and it was exhilarating.”

“Bill set us on a track where we could dance with anyone who was doing traditional square dancing calls,” said Larry Brown, another early member of the Western Star Dancers. “We were so lucky as a gay community to embrace square dancing early on as AIDS was starting to spread. It was a welcome alternative to bars and booze and gave us a safe place to meet, dance and socialize.”

Today, there are an estimated 44 gay square-dancing clubs around the world and an International Association of Gay Square Dance Clubs.

Members say gay square-dancing clubs have helped blur regimented male and female roles.

“Bill introduced the idea of all-position dancing by having us learn both roles as soon as possible,” King said in a 2005 Western Star newsletter. “When some dancers complained that they couldn’t keep track of who was dancing what, Bill sternly admonished them: ‘You will learn the calls by definition. If you are doing your part correctly, it will not matter if it’s a man, a woman or a Hanukkah bush coming at you.’ ”

With “all-position dancing, we liberated hundreds of women who previously had to wait on the sidelines for the men to invite them to dance,” according to Brown.

Provided

Young Bill’s mother, Ruth, was active in Chicago Episcopal women’s circles. His father William was general counsel for Playboy Enterprises.

Rob Sierzega

“The Klein family had the largest Christmas open house in Wilmette, and Hugh Hefner would come with his current girlfriend,” said Stephen Voysey, a lifelong friend of Mr. Klein.

He went to New Trier High School, where he enjoyed performing in musicals. He got a degree in linguistics and French at Indiana University, according to his nephew, and a master’s in dance education from Northwestern University.

He loved musical theater, whether classics by Rodgers and Hammerstein or the latest Broadway smash.

“If something was up for a Tony,” his nephew said, “I know he would have the soundtrack.”

Mr. Klein liked science fiction and fantasy novels, including the work of Anne McCaffrey and Piers Anthony.

“He loved naps,” his nephew said. “Multiple naps every day.”

And, working with cream cheese, cheddar and Worcestershire sauce, “He made the world’s best scrambled eggs,” he said.

In addition to his nephew, Mr. Klein is survived by his niece Elizabeth Ayres. Funeral arrangements are pending.