From the 1970s all the way through the end of the 2000s, both Galik and Slusser worked at Torrance State Hospital through the Social Service Department. Both were psychiatric social workers, caring for patients going through some of life’s deepest crises.
Their work brought them close together, so close that they would grow to live their lives as one, and they dedicated themselves to each other as partners in 2002. Though Galik and Slusser both retired from social work by 2009, they are far from done providing for those who need their help.
Since 2010, Galik and Slusser have spent their time providing resources and safe spaces for Westmoreland County’s LGBTQ+ community. They helped to found both the Westmoreland LGBTQ Interfaith Alliance, helping connect religious queer people with friendly and welcoming congregations to join, and the Greensburg chapter of the Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, or PFLAG, which provides support, education, and advocacy on behalf of the LGBTQ+ community.
Some might ask why a straight couple devotes so much of their energy to the LGBTQ+ community. The answer runs deep, especially for Galik.
His older brother Mike had moved to Dallas, Texas, in the 1980s as a young adult. Though he was distant from his family here in Western Pennsylvania, they had no reason to suspect anything was wrong, or that he was hiding something from them. A phone call from one of Mike’s friends in January 1986 violently shattered that illusion.
“We found out when I got a call at work from one of his friends. They said he was very ill,” says Galik. “My mother and I flew down, and then I saw the universal precaution sign on his door. That’s when I knew.”
When they arrived at Dallas’ St. Paul Hospital, Mike was already a shell of his former self. Gravely ill with AIDS, he had no choice but to reveal his sexuality and condition to his deeply Catholic mother, a task that evidently terrified him. Her response took that load off his shoulders.
“My mother, to her credit, was very maternal. She didn’t reject him, even though I’m sure she was more shocked than I was,” says Galik.
Though they visited with Mike as much as possible after they found out, he simply didn’t have much time left. On January 29, 1986, Eugene Michael “Mike” Galik passed away.
After his death, Galik and his mother arranged to bring his remains home to Connellsville, the town where they grew up together, for a Catholic funeral. Sadly, the tremendous stigma at the time surrounding AIDS and homosexuality deeply impacted their family, particularly Galik’s mother.
“The night after the funeral, my siblings and I were at my mom’s house, and she asked us all to tell people that Mike died of cancer,” says Galik.
This was partially true, as Mike dealt with Kaposi’s sarcoma, a type of cancer commonly associated with AIDS patients, but still an obfuscation of the reality of what happened. Little did Galik know the effect this denial would have on the course of his life.
“It took me ten years to tell anybody outside of my family that my brother was gay, and he died of AIDS,” says Galik. “That was my personal breakthrough, that I was finally able to acknowledge that after all that time.”
The effect of that breakthrough compounded when his own daughter came out a few years later.
“Having gone through the process of acknowledging my brother already, I was more able to be supportive to my daughter at that time,” says Galik.
With Mike’s memory and their daughter’s present as fuel, Galik and Slusser felt they had to take action and use their energy and power to make a cruel world more welcoming.
Galik and Slusser first took action locally, in their Unitarian Universalist congregation in Ligonier, aiming to make the church more open and affirming to minority communities.
“The Unitarian Universalist Association has this program called the Welcoming Congregation. They provide congregations with resources and workshops to reflect and learn about homophobia, racism, prejudice, AIDS, and more,” says Galik. “So from 2005 to 2007, we went through the process of becoming a Welcoming Congregation.”
That first step would lead to many more. Just three years later, they collaborated with educator Ted Hoover, alongside a number of local social workers, teachers, and clergy to create the Westmoreland LGBTQ Interfaith Network. On top of that, they were among the founding members of Greensburg’s chapter of PFLAG, and they’ve taken a leadership role in that organization since 2010.
“We were really starting from scratch, because there wasn’t any formal kind of organization, no support group in Westmoreland County,” says Slusser.
By helping to build both the Westmoreland LGBTQ Interfaith Network and the Greensburg chapter of PFLAG, they have helped to connect queer-identifying people from across the county with support groups, mental health resources, friendly churches, and a place to go to feel heard and seen.
But Galik and Slusser don’t just wait for people to come to them. They make a point of having a presence in the community, whether that’s setting up a table at local events, joining the board of the local NAACP chapter, or even hosting talks for prison staff at FCI Loretto, among many other ventures.
“Our approach to it is not just to have events that are strictly for LGBTQ people, but to open it up as much as we can to the public, because I think that’s the only way that there gets to be a real change of heart and understanding,” says Slusser.
And they feel the work bearing fruit, despite living in a conservative area in times where the national Republican party is more openly homophobic and transphobic than ever, especially when it comes to the number of local Pride events where there used to be none.
“Now in Westmoreland County, there are three different Pride events,” says Galik. “The City of Connellsville puts on the Pride Parade, which is mind-blowing to me.”
It gives them confidence that, despite the tumultuous political landscape, progress continues to move forward one step at a time. They see it in their community, and they’re working their hardest to sow and cultivate those seeds of progress until they grow into beautiful trees of freedom.
“We were just at Latrobe High School doing an information table for a wellness event, and so many of the kids came up to us and said ‘Thank you so much for being here,’” says Slusser.
“There’s a lot more acceptance than there used to be, and a lot more support,” says Galik. “That keeps my hopes up.”
“Portraits of Pride” is a cooperative project produced jointly by QBurgh and NEXTpittsburgh with support from the Pittsburgh Media Partnership.
