TL;DR
- Florida state officials removed the Pulse Memorial rainbow crosswalk in Orlando overnight.
- Mayor Buddy Dyer slammed the move as a “cruel political act.”
- Survivors and advocates say it desecrates the memory of the 49 victims.
- Governor Ron DeSantis’ office defended it as roadway safety enforcement.
- Locals tried to replace it with chalk art, which storms quickly erased.
Florida Erases Orlando’s Rainbow Tribute
In a move that left many in Orlando stunned and furious, state workers painted over the rainbow crosswalk at the Pulse Memorial under the cover of darkness this week. The crosswalk, a vibrant reminder of the 49 lives lost in the 2016 Pulse nightclub massacre, was wiped away without warning — and replaced with drab uniform paint in the name of “safety.”
Orlando Mayor Buddy Dyer didn’t mince words, blasting the action as a “cruel political act.” He wrote online that the crosswalk “not only enhanced safety and visibility for the large number of pedestrians visiting the memorial, it also served as a visual reminder of Orlando’s commitment to honor the 49 lives taken.” Installed back in 2017, the rainbow path had become a sacred space for countless mourners and visitors.
Brandon Wolf, who survived the shooting, described the state’s move as nothing short of desecration. “In the dark of night, they came to erase our show of solidarity, our declaration that we will never forget,” he said. “The cowards who feel threatened by our lives should feel lucky they didn’t have to bury the ones they love — then watch the state come & desecrate their memory.” His words echoed the deep anger in Orlando’s LGBTQ community, which has long fought to ensure the massacre is never forgotten.
The Politics Behind the Paint
Governor Ron DeSantis’ office quickly claimed the removal was about “road safety” and not politics. His office pointed to his statement on social media: “We will not allow our state roads to be commandeered for political purposes.” The Florida Department of Transportation doubled down, saying new guidelines prohibit “nonuniform” markings on state roadways, including rainbow crosswalks, which they lumped in with “political banners.”
But for LGBTQ Floridians, the reasoning rang hollow. The timing was suspicious, the secrecy telling. The Pulse massacre remains one of the darkest chapters in American history, particularly for queer communities and communities of color. To erase a rainbow tribute without notice is to strip away not just paint but dignity, memory, and solidarity.
The policy shift wasn’t limited to Florida. Last month, Trump’s transportation secretary Sean Duffy sent directives to all states stressing that roadway markings must be “consistent” and “free from distractions.” In a not-so-subtle jab at LGBTQ Pride symbols, Duffy wrote online, “Taxpayers expect their dollars to fund safe streets, not rainbow crosswalks.”
A Community Responds
Within hours of the removal, Orlando locals showed up, armed not with permits or paint, but chalk. Kneeling on the pavement, they sketched makeshift rainbows across the erased crosswalk. Afternoon storms washed them away, but the gesture proved the point: erasing queer visibility doesn’t erase queer resilience.
For the LGBTQ community, the move is more than a bureaucratic policy shift — it’s part of a broader erasure campaign. Symbols like rainbow crosswalks are not just colorful pavement; they are markers of survival, pride, and remembrance. The Pulse site, especially, carries a weight that can’t be paved over.
As Florida officials insist they’re preparing to build a “permanent memorial” nearby, many in Orlando see only the bitter irony: the same state that wiped away a grassroots symbol of love now wants credit for funding a government-approved replacement.
For LGBTQ Floridians — and for queer people everywhere — the removal of the Pulse rainbow crosswalk isn’t just about asphalt. It’s about whether their lives, losses, and love are visible or invisible, honored or erased. And Orlando’s answer, even under the rain, was clear: the rainbow always returns.