07/01/2026
36 years ago in Wilmington, Talana Kreeger was murdered for being a le***an. Today, after a month filled with public Pride celebrations, I visited Talana’s bench in her honor.
Those who knew Talana describe her as fun-loving, generous, and free-spirited. She loved all animals and treated strangers like friends. She was a skilled carpenter. She was known to give her time freely and was helping with the renovation of Park View, a le***an bar near Greenfield Lake.
One night at Park View bar, Talana played pool with some friends and Ronald Thomas, a trucker passing through town. Thomas argued with them about “homosexuality” and then brutally assaulted and killed Talana (as told by Thomas himself when he later confessed to the crime). Talana was 32 years old.
Though this was clearly a hate crime, it was not legally classified as such. Today, North Carolina remains 1 of 15 states that does not include LGBTQ+ motivated offenses in the hate-crime classification.
This results in
* Inadequate court verdicts
* A lack of legal protection of LGBTQ people
* Further traumatization of the LGBTQ community as our identities are ignored in news coverage and criminal court - despite being a clear motivator of the crime
Wilmington Police told the local LGBTQ community to “not be too visible” in the days following the murder. They arranged unpublished plans for Talana’s funeral. Forbidden to post signs directing mourners to the church, organizers tied low-lying white balloons along the route up Market Street, leading to a church in Ogden.
At the last minute, the pastor called off the service after finding out that Talana was a le***an. Wilmington Police stopped the procession of cars and told them to turn around. They scrambled to find another place for the funeral. Only one church, the Church of the Good Shepherd, would take her.
This spurred on the local LGBTQ community to create their own institutions and infrastructures of support. Friend of Talana, Frank Harr, said “You had to learn to cling to each other and tote your own crosses… the only way to do that was to create our own institutions.”
They started “church in a box” out of the trunk of someone’s car, which later became St. Jude’s church when they got a building. Harr said, “Never again will we have to hunt for that place to bury our dead. Never again will we have to hunt for that place to bless your union. We won’t have to depend on the outside world.”
(Full circle moment: our LGBTQ Center was originally founded as the Frank Harr Foundation by his husband after his passing.)
Today, I stand at Talana’s bench in a small attempt to honor her. To remember her, though I didn’t know her. Somehow, I feel a profound connection to her.
Talana would be 68 years old if she was still alive today. I imagine her with silver hair and crinkles at the corners of her eyes. I wonder if she’d be laughing with Ed or dancing with Cynthia in Silver Pride Circle’s lip sync performance.
I’m so grateful for our older LGBTQ Wilmingtonians who, in their grief and trauma, built the foundation of this community that we are continuing to build today. Thank you for your courage to be your authentic selves, to forge the way. We stand on your shoulders.
I created a link tree to consolidate information about Talana’s story if you want to learn more: https://linktr.ee/honoringtalana