Activist David Rothenberg lovingly reflects on decades of ‘mayhem’

David Rothenberg is a bona fide legend. At 91, he’s still making waves with a podcast and a brand-new book. Manhattan Mayhem is his latest—a sharp, funny, moving collection of 18 urban tales brimming with the soul of New York City.

A longtime activist, theater producer, and founder of the Fortune Society (which helps formerly incarcerated individuals re-enter society), Rothenberg draws from a life lived on the city’s frontlines. As a playwright, and a Broadway press agent, he has counted the likes of Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, Alvin Ailey, Tennessee Williams, Bette Davis, Peggy Lee and John Gielgud among his friends and colleagues.

Rothenberg witnessed the Attica Prison Uprising, observed the incarcerated persons at Rikers Island, was spat upon at a civil rights sit-in, and shot at during a Central American civil war…but said none of that prepared him for the year he worked with Lauren Bacall, which he called “one of the most formative”of his life. Endorsed as “The Gay White Hope,” he ran for city council member of Manhattan and was an early proponent of AIDS awareness in the prison system.

He has hosted a live, weekly radio broadcast for nearly 60 years. Rothenberg recently discussed these stories behind the stories with Windy City Times

MK Scott: What inspired Manhattan Mayhem?

David Rothenberg: I wrote these stories during the pandemic. They’d been kicking around in my head for years. The book touches on my time in theater, my work at Fortune, my childhood. There’s a lot of fact in the fiction—and a lot of fiction in the fact.

MK: What’s a good example?

David: I started reading them on the radio. Listeners called in, saying, “We want a book.” My agent said there was no market. I was going to title it Stories for Which There Is No Market! Editors liked it, but passed, so I self-published through Amazon.

The first stories are “The Juice Story,” “The Ballad of Two Sandys,” “Emma Sater,” and “Marriage: Manhattan Style.”

MK: What’s that last one about?

David: A couple I knew—wealthy, from titled families—were very prominent in New York’s social scene. He got involved with our organization and ended up in a relationship with my assistant—a young man. Meanwhile, his wife was involved with an actor. Yet, outside the bedroom, they had a beautiful friendship.

It reminded me of theater marriages where the spouse is also the manager and obviously gay. Jason Alexander once joked, “I’m gay—except for the sex.” That idea stuck with me.

MK: What about “The Uninvited”?

David: That one came from a real experience at Fortune. A woman—45 or so—got in touch. Her dad had been close to me and later testified against the mafia. He entered witness protection. She grew up constantly moving, unable to tell anyone who they were. Her siblings fell apart—prison, addiction. She ran away.

She remembered playing in my office as a child. She told me, “You knew my father. I don’t have to explain him to you.” That stayed with me.

MK: And “The Ballad of Two Sandys”?

David: That one’s from my family. Two cousins married two women—one was so good she’d be considered a saint if she weren’t Jewish. The other was universally disliked. It’s about family legends, and how we explain them to younger generations.

MK: Your book party co-host is Jim McGreevey?

David: Yes. We met 20 years ago, after he resigned as governor. He visited the Fortune Society and later started the New Jersey Reentry Program, modeled after us. We still refer people to each other. He’s a good friend, even though he’s always campaigning!

MK: You both came out later in life.

David: I was 39. I ran a macho nonprofit—mostly formerly incarcerated men. I was telling them to be honest about their pasts, while I was still in the closet. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I choreographed my coming out. I went on The David Susskind Show to talk about living double lives. Before that, I told six core Fortune staff members: “I’m gay. I’m going on national television to say it. Here’s my resignation.”

Kenny Jackson, a tough Brooklyn guy, just asked, “What are you going to wear on TV?” They were supportive. One said, “You stood by us—let us stand by you.” So I didn’t resign. I went on TV, and got 999 positive letters out of 1000.

The New York Times even put me in their “People” column—between Hubert Humphrey’s gallbladder operation and Marshal Tito’s birthday! The New York Post ran the headline: “Prison Advocate Says I’m Homo.” But I did it with no shame. Just honesty. Like Jim when he said, “I am a gay American.” That was powerful.

MK: You produced Fortune and Men’s Eyes?

David: Yes. The character Queenie, played by Michael Greer, was based on someone real. The playwright, John Herbert, was raped his first night in jail. He wrote the play 20 years later.

When I met him in Toronto, he took me to a dive bar. A drag queen was performing—I said, “That’s Queenie, isn’t it?” He said, “That’s Randy. We did time together. He saved me.”

MK: The play tackled rape culture in prison?

David: It wasn’t about homosexuality—it was about sexual power as violence. A kid goes in, gets raped, and by the end, he’s hardened and ready to retaliate. Some critics got it. Others didn’t.

At Fortune, I later wrote articles about rape in prison. We held panels where men—straight-identified—shared their experiences.

It’s worse in Southern prisons now. But when you have real programs—education, job training, art—there’s less violence. I once asked a group of teens in our program why they thought we had no violence. One kid said, “Who has time?”

Those three words are everything. When you’re engaged, there’s no time for destruction.

MK: That’s profound. You also helped bring AIDS education into prisons?

David: Yes. In the early days, people with AIDS were being isolated or attacked. I called the deputy commissioner and asked to distribute GMHC materials. He agreed—until wardens objected to the word “gay” in the pamphlets.

So GMHC printed versions without the word. It worked. We didn’t yell. We just got the info in the hands of the people who needed it.

MK: You also had a long friendship with Alvin Ailey?

David: Alvin was my first friend in theater. He was a chorus boy in Jamaica and wanted to choreograph. I helped him with press photos, and we hit it off. Later, we became inseparable for a year—me, Alvin, and actress Joan Hackett. It was like Jules and Jim.

When I started the Fortune Society, the first two people I called for the advisory council were Alvin and Joan. Even as their careers soared, they always picked up my calls.

Alvin set aside ten tickets for every Ailey show for Fortune clients. I introduced hundreds of formerly incarcerated people to modern dance. One of our jokes was, “You get out of prison in New York with $40, a bologna sandwich, and two tickets to Alvin Ailey.”

MK: Looking back, what keeps you going?

David: People. Stories. The city. I’m still inspired every day. New York is always evolving—and so am I.

‘Manhattan Mayhem’ is available now. David is also a subject of “Broadway, Bars and Fortune,” a 40-minute documentary film by Shuvendu Sen and Karl Bardosh. A social take on the relevance of art and theater in transforming lives of people with trauma, this documentary is a story of four formerly incarcerated-turned actors under the philosophy and mission of David Rothenberg. The film premieres Monday, May 19 at the Cannes Film Festival, and will be screened at the Indian consulate in New York City and other consulates around the world.