A town reflects on itself.

Laramie changed with the death of Matthew Shepard. Will the changes last?

For the past year Laramie, Wyo., has been more than just the place where Matthew Shepard was murdered. It has also been a character in the morality tale that has played itself out over time, with residents and the press wondering just how much Laramie itself was responsible for the terrible events of last October.

Like the people closest to the tragedy, Laramie itself has been changed by the experience. "I believe Matt's murder is the defining moment in the history of Laramie and Wyoming," says the Rev. Stephen Johnson of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, who arrived in Laramie ten days before Shepard's murder. "A century ago Wyoming prided itself as the Equality State, the first in women's suffrage; a century later, and it has to rethink what that equality means and extend it to all its citizens."

Jim Osborn, a native of Wyoming and an openly gay staff member at the University of Wyoming who was himself once attacked on campus, agrees. "There has been the recognition that, yes, there are lesbian and gay people in Wyoming and, yes, there are threats to our safety here, just as anywhere else," he says.

Meesha Fenimore and Hauva Manookin, a lesbian couple at the university and friends of Shepard's, also sense a changed environment. Fenimore measures those changes personally. She came out in high school, in Cody, Wyo., and promptly got beat up. Then her family disowned her.

"When Matt was killed," she says, "my family came out of the closet. They've been totally supportive. It kills us to think our friend had to die to do this, but Matt wanted to help others, and I'm sure he's thinking, Look at all the people I helped."

She also sees broader indicators of change in the support for gay men and lesbians coming from businesses in the town. She says some shopkeepers put up yellow signs after Shepard's death that read, HATE IS NOT A LARAMIE VALUE, and NO HATE CRIMES.

Many residents of the town still see themselves as unfairly maligned by the portrayal of Laramie in the press as a backwater. Within the state, Laramie is widely considered to be a sophisticated, civilized town, more liberal than the rest of Wyoming. Nonetheless, says Osborn, over the past year Laramie has often been depicted as an "inbred, redneck place where vigilante justice reigns."

"This isn't Hayden Lake, Idaho," the home of the white supremacist group Aryan Nations, says Jay Fromkin, a spokesman for the university. "This town is pretty secure in seeing itself as a good town before the murder, and ifs a good town now."

But the fact that the motive for the crime has never been made clear by the two men charged with the crime bothers residents who want to put the murder behind them. "Shepard's murder remains problematic for people in Laramie," Fromkin says. "Some people believe it was a hate crime, some a crime of opportunity, some a robbery." Russell Henderson pleaded guilty earlier this year, avoiding a trial. In a chilling coincidence, the trial for Aaron McKinney is scheduled to begin one day before the anniversary of Shepard's death.

In some ways, at least, the effects of Shepard's death are easy to measure. According to Brenda Shriner, assistant manager at Laramie's Fireside Lounge, where on that fateful night Shepard met McKinney and Henderson, the murder made its mark on business. Gay tourists still stop by the Fireside, but the bar has lost most of its student clientele over the past year and is just now getting back on its feet.

"There never was a problem here," Shriner says. "People are really tolerant of everyone, from cowboys to jocks." But she says her patrons now seem a little more cautious with their loose talk, "a little more conscientious about the dangers" of ragging on lesbians and gays.

Manookin wonders whether the changes in Laramie will last or wear away with time. "In the beginning everyone was very aware of hatred, very tolerant," she says. "Some of that support has died down, but I still meet people who are much more supportive than they would have been before."

Still, says Johnson, who has devoted much of his ministry over the past year to gay men, lesbians, and human rights issues, the murder has forced Laramie to look at gay issues. And while that examination will be, he predicts, "a long process," once it has begun it cannot be stopped. "Before you can change attitudes about orientation, there has to be an awareness and an acceptance that the issue is there," he says. "And that didn't take hold in Wyoming until Matt's murder."

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Hate-crimes bills fared poorly in the year since Matthew's murder

After the death of Matthew Shepard, politicians around the nation pledged to fight hate crimes whenever they occurred. But in the year since, that pledge has produced spotty results at best. Legislation to increase penalties for hate crimes against gay men and lesbians was introduced in 26 states this year, often with Shepard's death named as the reason for such legislation. However, only one bill, in Missouri, became law. One other measure passed the legislature, in New Mexico, but Governor Gary Johnson vetoed the bill when it came to his desk. Perhaps the most bitter defeat came in Wyoming, where Shepard was killed. Despite the attention his death attracted to the state, a hate-crimes bill failed to clear the legislature.

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RELATED ARTICLE: His story lives on

Nearly a year after his murder, Matthew's legacy continues to inspire a host of TV and film projects

It may be heartening to know that the mainstream media still haven't forgotten Matthew Shepard. In Journey to a Hate Free Millennium a documentary that asks the likes of Elton John and others to explore the causes of hatred, the student's story is recounted through interviews with his mother. Judy Shepard. his friends, and his teachers. The film. which premieres at Colorado State University in Fort Collins on the anniversary of Shepard's death (October 12) and screens in several other cities throughout the month. also looks at the Columbine High School shootings in Littleton. Colo., and the murder of James Byrd Jr., the African-American man who was dragged to death behind a pickup truck last year in Texas.

Though Journey notes that bigotry fuels resentment. director and coproducer Brent Scarpo says his film comes to a conclusion that tragedies like Shepard's reflect an even darker phenomenon. "It's not a gay thing; it's a not a black thing or a Jewish thing." says Scarpo, who hopes to show Journey at schools, "It's a hate thing."

MTV would agree, As part of its much-hyped "Fight for Your Rights: Take a Stand Against Violence" campaign, the network is planning a movie based on the Shepard killing, Anatomy of a Hate Crime, to be produced by Lawrence Bender (Pulp Fiction, Good Will Hunting); the TV movie will likely air next year, Meanwhile, Fight for Your Rights: Matthew's Murder, the network's documentary that initially aired in November 1998, will be rebroadcast on October 12, accompanied by a hot line and Web site for viewers, Stephen Friedman, MTV's vice president of public affairs, said viewer interest compelled the network to return to the special: "There is no question that Matthew's murder affected the national dialogue on this issue--and clearly our audience."

Shepard's death also inspired a number of TV public service announcements featuring Judy Shepard, two produced by the Washington, O,C,-based gay political group Human Rights Campaign and one from the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network (GLSEN), The spots should begin showing across the country in October, The PSAs effectively appeal to the heart: In one HRC spot, Judy Shepard talks about the challenges of being a parent ("I loved Matt just the way he was") and the joys of friendship ("You measure a person's success by the friends they leave behind, I think Matt was a great success"), Each HRC spot ends with the slogan "Choose to understand," The effort is part of a campaign that the advocacy organization plans to expand over the next couple of years, Says HRC communications director David Smith: "The purpose is to cut through all of the noise and get right to people's conscience,"

--Todd Savage

Curtis is a freelance writer living in Los Angeles.