She helped win fight for gay rights. Is history repeating?

Gwenn Craig made her way slowly through the lobby of a beachfront landmark, past the colorful Depression-era murals to the elevator and a table upstairs for two.

She came to discuss history of a more recent and personal nature, and how you can prevail in certain battles but never stop having to fight.

“That's what leaves me sometimes so exhausted,” the 70-year-old Craig said, as waves unfurled in the ocean below. “No matter what, it's constant. You can't just say, `We won the struggle, and now we can rest.' ”

In 1978, Craig helped lead the fight against Proposition 6, a California ballot measure that would have banned gays and lesbians from working in public schools. Though it started out leading in polls, the measure lost overwhelmingly in one of the first major electoral victories for the gay rights movement.

Now, with lawmakers across the country passing laws to restrict what teachers can say about sexual orientation and how parents can engage with their transgender children, it seems as though events, if not exactly repeating, are traveling full circle and landing with blunt force.

She was born in Atlanta, went to college in Chicago and was drawn to San Francisco by, in addition to the not-snowy weather, its reputation for tolerance and openness. It was, Craig said, “a place where you could be whoever you wanted to be,” including, in her case, a 24-year-old just beginning to explore her sexual orientation.

“The vast majority of gay people were not out of the closet,” she said. “They were not out to their employer, they were not out to their co-workers, they were not out to their family. And they were very petrified about people finding out.”

In 1977, in Dade County, Fla., singer and citrus-industry pitchwoman Anita Bryant led a successful effort to repeal an ordinance barring discrimination based on sexual orientation.

Craig recalled visiting Harvey Milk at his camera shop in the Castro District, the city's gay haven, and how “he swept me into the back room and, boy, started giving me tons of information. He began mentoring me.”

By the time Proposition 6 qualified for the November 1978 ballot, Milk was a member of the Board of Supervisors, the first openly gay elected official in California history. He became a statewide leader of the “No on 6” effort and made Craig cochair of the San Francisco campaign.

The measure was defeated, 58% to 42%, thanks in no small part to the opposition of former Gov. Ronald Reagan, who joined President Jimmy Carter, former President Gerald Ford and Gov. Jerry Brown in urging Californians to vote “no.”

But the celebration for Craig and other Proposition 6 opponents was short-lived. Less than a month after its defeat, Milk was assassinated by former Supervisor Dan White, who embodied the forces resisting the growing clout of gays, lesbians and others long denied power and representation at City Hall.

It took a long time, Craig said, before she could watch news footage of that day without crying.

Outside, the sun broke through the late-morning fog shrouding the Beach Chalet on the edge of Golden Gate Park.

Milk would have been amazed at the progress the gay rights movement achieved over the past 40 years, Craig said.

Milk would have believed, she said, that the battle for recognition and respect was won, but not over.

“People have seen `Will & Grace,' and that was a long time ago,” Craig said with a deep laugh, referring to the TV sitcom with two beloved gay characters. “They've seen the movies and the TV shows. They've read the books. It's too late. I don't think people are going to go back.”

Even if some politicians believe that's the way to move themselves forward.