Two women who met as teenagers, fell in love, and stayed together for 69 years – spending all but the last decade of their relationship in the closet. A woman who, in her 70s, finally decided to come out to two friendly lesbian strangers she saw together at the grocery store. One woman, born in 1918, who found herself in a lesbian bar one day, not knowing such a thing existed, and finally felt at home.

These are all stories pulled from the Old Lesbian Oral Herstory Project (OLOHP), a catalogue of more than 900 interviews with lesbian seniors in the US. Arden Eversmeyer, a retired Houston schoolteacher who devoted her retired years to campaigning for visibility for older lesbians, who she felt were missing from the cultural discussion, began interviewing women in 1998.

She grew a team of interviewers – all of them also old lesbians, as they call themselves – to travel around the country speaking to women. These transcripts, audio recordings, and photos of the subjects live in an archive at Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts. After Eversmeyer’s death at age 91 in November 2022, a dedicated group of friends and fellow activists took up the cause. Last month Meghan McDonough, a Brooklyn-based film-maker, released a documentary called Old Lesbians telling the story of OLOHP, commissioned by Guardian Documentaries.

Eversmeyer and her team recruited interview subjects through a word-of-mouth network, and by placing ads at venues such as women’s music festivals or the free magazine Lesbian Connection. The only requirement was that the woman be over 70 years old and identify as a lesbian – she didn’t have to be out publicly, and could remain anonymous. (The age requirement has since been loosened.)

“Arden’s famous quote is, ‘You don’t have to climb Mount Everest to have an interesting life story, because the the fact that you are a lesbian in our culture makes your life story interesting,’” said Barb Kucharczyk, an air force veteran and OLOHP interviewer who served more than two decades in the military, including under the discriminatory “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy.

Interviews are conducted loosely and conversationally. Not every question relates to a woman’s sexuality. There are a few standard questions: where were you born? what did your family look like? What did your folks do for a living? But the point is mostly to make women feel comfortable and open up.

“We’ve tried to make it as gentle of an experience as we can for the women,” said Kucharczyk, who is 76 and lives in Sumter, South Carolina. “It becomes a chronological discussion of their life story. At some point in time, they will talk about being a lesbian. But we don’t walk into the door with 47 questions about how they found out they were, or how they were treated. We want the woman to tell her own story, and if the details about her lesbian lifestyle are slim, that’s OK.”

Still, the project is a raw and revealing look at what life was like for lesbians in the 20th century. Women who came of age before Stonewall and the sexual revolution describe what Kucharczyk calls “hidden lifestyles” that they kept secret, living in fear for their safety. There are harrowing descriptions of conversion therapy, ostracism and physical attacks.

Ethyl “Ricci Cortez” Bronson, an exotic dancer and member of the Burlesque Hall of Fame, who later opened the first “gay girls’ bar” in Houston, told Eversmeyer during an interview that took place shortly before Bronson’s death in 2008 that her club was regularly raided by cops. “A lot of the girls in slacks and pants had been hauled off to jail in the raids,” she said. “They even put me in handcuffs and carried me out to the police car. In my own bar! This is what we went through to get open bars, open gay bars.”

Some of the women interviewed for the project asked to speak anonymously, or on certain conditions, like that their name only be revealed after they died. This did not affect their candor when speaking on the record. “Women were open with us as long as they knew that this was not going to be published,” said Edie Daly, an 87-year-old retired intensive care nurse who splits her time between Florida and Massachusetts. “Some of these stories are still closed, because even though they have passed, they were in fear of outing themselves or someone else.”

Daly said some women were able to break through their hesitancy because they wanted to leave a record of what had happened to them. “We talk about how we would love to know what the suffragists’ individual stories were, and we don’t have that, because a lot of women’s stories are lost,” she said. “Women have been erased from history, and so this is our attempt to rectify that in some small way.”

Lillian Faderman, an award-winning scholar of lesbian history and professor emeritus at Fresno State in California, sat for her own interview with Eversmeyer. When she came out in 1950s Los Angeles, she used fake IDs to get into what were then called “gay girls’ bars”.

“As a young lesbian, my feeling was that what happened when you reach 30 or older was that you probably died,” Faderman said. “There were simply no role models, and I don’t think it’s quite as bad today because of social media, but for the most part, I think that young lesbians still have no notion that we don’t disappear after 30. I think it’s important for them to understand that they have a future outside of youth.”

Faderman hopes that the interviews “send a message to the people in our community for posterity, that we are here and flourishing”.

“We’ve always been here,” Daly added. “But now we have visibility, and a voice. And it’s not just visibility of old lesbians, it’s the visibility of all strong women.”

This June, another Pride month unfurls over the backdrop of attacks on LGBTQ+ Americans. The FBI has warned that celebrations could be targeted by terrorists, and Target rolled back its Pride merchandise after last year saw conservative backlash that in some instances led to angry shoppers confronting workers. That’s partly why Kucharczyk believes it’s more important than ever to look toward the past.

“Does history repeat itself? Absolutely,” Kucharczyk said. “You’re watching it happen right here, right now. I hope the message that young folks take away is to be aware of this history, because if you’re aware, you can see the tidal wave that’s coming up.”