It's been over a month since a man died inside an underground sex club at 1618 14th Street NW. The club, operated by David J. Butler and the D.C. Wrestling Club, had been throwing near-nightly "Men's Parties" in Logan Circle for years. The party came to a halt on the morning of Oct. 4, when one reveler died of "blunt impact injury to the head" on the club's stairs.

Forty-five days later, the D.C. Office of the Chief Medical Examiner says that the "manner of death" in the case—which determines whether a death came as a result of a homicide, suicide, accident, or some other cause—is still pending.

Today, D.C. police released a 911 call made from outside the sex club on the morning of Oct. 4. The call, which originated from one of the club's patrons, points to one possible contributing factor in the man's death—that party organizers allegedly hesitated to call an ambulance:

The full transcript of the call is after the jump.

Operator: D.C. Emergency 911 Dispatcher 6741. Police, Fire or Ambulance?

Caller: Ambulance.

Operator: To come where?

Caller: It’s um 14^th street, 1618 A. This guy fell down the steps at this after-hours club, and the guy’s, um, he doesn’t look like he’s breathing, and they won’t call the police, I mean, call the ambulance.

Operator: OK, repeat the address?

Caller: It’s 1618 A 14^th street.

Operator: 1618 14^th Street Building A?

Caller: Yeah it’s A. It’s um, it’s right on the corner of Corcoran and 14^th

Operator: Oh, it looks like someone already called the ambulance.

Caller: Okay, because he—he fell down—

Operator: They’re en route there, somebody already called.

Caller: Okay, because he fell down a while ago. How long ago did they call? Because he was laying there—

Operator: They called at 5:06.

Caller: Oh, okay. What time is it now?

Operator: It’s 5:10 now.

Caller: Okay, yeah. Because he fell before that, and I saw him. And I told them. I don’t know, I’m just upset about it, because it’s actually—it’s like an after-hours sex club—and they didn’t want to call the police, because he didn’t have any clothes on.

Operator: Okay. Look out for the police for him. I mean the ambulance.

Caller: I see them, I see them now, thank you.

Photo by Darrow Montgomery.

A sign on a nondescript building at the intersection of 14th and Corcoran Streets NW has no doubt caused its share of confusion. Here’s what it says: “‘D.C. Wrestling Club, Inc. remains open for business, however there will be no Men’s Parties until further notice.”

Passersby are now aware that the building has got wrestling, but no parties. What the hell does that mean?

As it turns out, only those steeped in the doings of the city’s Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs (DCRA) know what’s going on here. The cryptic sign fronts 1618 14th St. NW, the hosting address for something called “Men’s Parties,” a nightly anonymous-sex event that provided mattresses, glory holes, and snacks for a $14 “donation.” On Oct. 4, a reveler at one of those parties died after apparently falling down a set of stairs. The accident prompted the city to temporarily shut down the “Men’s Parties.”

For now, hard-up, often-closeted gay men are no longer slipping in and out of 1618 for no-questions-asked romps.

Quashing a clandestine sex club, however, doesn’t happen without some legal complications. For about 15 years, an organization called the D.C. Wrestling Club has served as the administrative front for Men’s Parties. At the time of the man’s death, the D.C. Wrestling Club was not open for business—its domestic nonprofit status had been revoked by the DCRA, a result of lapsed paperwork.

But in the meantime, the club refreshed its filing with the DCRA, reclaiming its (largely symbolic) corporation status. When the city secured its temporary restraining order against the D.C. Wrestling Club, it required club president David J. Butler to post that peculiar sign on the club’s front door.

The D.C. Wrestling Club has been restored, but it can no longer serve as a front for sexual activity. So what does a real “wrestling club” do?

According to the club’s 1994 articles of incorporation, the organization was meant to provide a “social club” for “sports enthusiasts, especially of collegiate wrestling.” An old online advertisement posted on a gay wrestling Web site expands on the club’s activities: “The DC Wrestling Club grapples Tuesdays from 7:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. and Sundays from 12:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m.,” it reads. The advertisement boasts one amenity: “New mats.” According to the ad, “all skill levels welcome,” but members must be over the age of 18. The style of play “ranges from rulebook, to submission, to slower paced back and forth workout…whatever two guys want to do.”

The “rulebook” technique sounds traditional enough. And “submission,” despite its sexual connotations, is also a form of wrestling that requires the loser to signal his defeat, verbally or physically, in order to end the match. But given the sport’s homoerotic potential, it wouldn’t be difficult for a private wrestling match to lead to “whatever,” and that’s where the line between the D.C. Wrestling Club and “Men’s Parties” becomes unclear.

The advertisement appeared on the Web site of Metro Wrestling, which bills itself as a “gay-friendly freestyle wrestling club for adults” based in New York. Metro Wrestling is big on wrestling, low on the whatever. Like the D.C. Wrestling Club, Metro Wrestling advertises biweekly practices—enough to ready its members for competition in such international contests as the Gay Games and Outgames. Brent Minor, who heads up the District’s gay sports teams for an organization called “Team DC,” says the District’s gay wrestling scene lacks a competitive arm. Team DC coordinates gay rock-climbing, cheerleading, and water polo teams, but Minor says that the D.C. area has “no real wrestling team to speak of.”

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

The signage helps "Men's Parties" come into compliance with yesterday's court order, which requires the club—and the nonprofit organization behind it, the "D.C. Wrestling Club"—to temporarily cease holding events, stop advertising, and post this sign five feet from the ground on the club's main entrance, with lettering no less than 1 inch tall.

Today, the District of Columbia secured a temporary restraining order against "Men's Parties," the underground sex club operating out of 1618 14th Street NW. The District filed suit against the owner of the property (1618 14th Street LLC), the club's manager (David J. Butler), and its nonprofit front organization (the D.C. Wrestling Club, Inc.) on Oct. 14.

For now, the D.C. Wrestling Club has been ordered to stop partying, stop advertising, and replace its purposefully nondescript business entrance with some interesting signage:

The party's over—temporarily. "Defendants DC Wrestling Club and David J. Butler may not operate or allow to be operated at 1618 14th Street NW Washington DC any business until such a time as they obtain from the District of Columbia Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs a certificate of occupancy for such activity and all required licenses for any other legal business activity."

The weekly Washington Blade ad revenue is over, too. "Defendants must immediately cease promoting any services or events at the Property in any medium, including, but not limited to, newspaper, radio, television, or internet advertisements."

But the D.C. Wrestling Club is alive and well! "Defendants must immediately place a sign stating 'D.C. WRESTLING CLUB, INC. REMAINS OPEN FOR BUSINESS, HOWEVER THERE WILL BE NO MEN'S PARTIES UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE" on the front door of the property at 1618 14th Street NW, Washington, DC in a spot that is immediately visible to anyone who attempts to patronize the 'Men's Parties.'" According to the court order, "the lettering on the sign shall not be less than 1 inch tall and the sign shall be affixed directly to the door,5 feet from the bottom."

That last item contains an interesting little business development for the club. The D.C. Wrestling Club filed for domestic non-profit status with the DCRA in 1994. But last I checked with the agency, the club's charter had been involuntarily revoked sometime between 2004 and 2009. Now, the club again appears to be active. Nonprofit organizations (if they're legit) are required to make their tax forms publicly available. The tax forms would shine some light on the amount of "donations" the club has been reporting for tax purposes, and where the money has been going. I haven't been able to track any forms down yet, but now that I know that the club is back in business, I'll ask for some copies.

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

On Wednesday, the District of Columbia filed suit to shut down "Men's Parties," the underground male sex club operating at 1618 14th Street NW. The lawsuit's three defendants—David J. Butler, 1618 14th Street LLC, and the D.C. Wrestling Club—face charges of "opperation of a business without a basic business license" and "use of premises for business without appropriate certificate of occupancy."

The initial documents in the case offer a glimpse into the club's secretive activities, as well as additional information concerning the fatal accident that occurred inside the club on the morning of October 4th.

According to court documents, D.C. police responded to the report of "an unconscious person at the address" at 5:18 a.m. Detective Thomas Smith, a former Prostitution Enforcement Unit cop, was called to the scene to investigate a potential homicide. During the course of the investigation, Smith met Butler, "who identified himself as the President of a private club, doing business as the D.C. Wrestling Club."

Butler told Smith that he hosts parties where "men come into the premises, make a donation, and socialize." By the time Smith entered the property, Butler was accompanied by "more than twenty patrons and staff." Three other staff members identified themselves to Smith, according to documents: Jerome Goodman, Juan Adams, and Ralph 'Jay' Rushing.

According to Smith's affidavit, the activities of the club were obvious: "Strewn throughout the entire location are used condoms, empty condom wrappers, paper towels, cloth towels and other indicia of frequent, non-discrete sexual behavior." What, no snacks?

The affidavit offered a full inventory of the club's amenities:

First Floor: "A lounge area immediately inside the front entrance" which includes "two sets of lockers" and couches. Also on the first floor, "separated by curtains, are three wooden stalls containg 'glory holes' used for sexual activity" The floor also contains a "powder room and a linen closet."

Second Floor: An additional "lounge area with several counches and a mounted television set" sits on the club's top floor. The second floor also yields a "kitchenette and full bathroom." Behind the lounge are "sexually-oriented materials" including a "sex swing, large wooden cross that permits an individual to be bound to the structure, and a bench." The second floor also includes a bedroom "reportedly belonging to Ralph 'Jay' Rushing," and another bench.

Basement: Two sets of stairs lead to this floor (the accident victim was found at the foot of one staircase). In the basement are"thirteen bed spaces separated by built-in wooden partitions and dark curtains," each containing a "mattress and trash can."

Yesterday, the District of Columbia filed suit against "Men's Parties," the underground male sex club located at 1618 14th Street NW. The club has operated for decades in Logan Circle the D.C. area—through fire, allegations of unsafe sexual conditions, and most recently, a member's death from an accidental head injury inside the club.

According to Erica Stanley, deputy communications director in the Mayor's Office, "The District of Columbia believes that the activities occurring at the property located at 1618 14^th Street, NW violate the laws of the District of Columbia in that an illegal business entity is operating at the premises. The District has filed a lawsuit to enjoin the business from continuing to operate."

The lawsuit, filed in D.C. Superior Court yesterday, has been filed against three parties:

David J. Butler, the organizer of Men's Parties;

D.C. Wrestling Club, a domestic nonprofit incorporated in 1994 in connection with the parties;

1618 14th Street NW LLC, a company listed at 9464 Newbridge Dr. in Potomac, Md., the home of Stephen and Pirjo Jaffe.

The original filing is listed as a "complaint for negligence"; a hearing on a temporary restraining order in the case is scheduled for Wednesday, Oct. 21.

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

Early in the morning of Oct. 4, a member of a private Logan Circle “men’s social club” fell to his death. According to a D.C. police report, the 47-year-old man was discovered in the stairwell leading to the basement of 1618 14th St. NW, the victim of “blunt impact injury of head.” Police believe the man may have tumbled down the stairs; the organizer of the club told the Washington Blade that the man likely fell on a “cement floor,” where he “possibly hit his head on a metal pipe or a brick wall.”

The man’s injury was sustained during the regular activities of the club, which include nightly gay sex events called “Men’s Parties,” as well as meetings of the “Jack Off Enthusiasts of Washington and Baltimore.” The accident has drawn public scrutiny over the private meetings, as well as a defense: Following the death, the club’s organizer told police that his establishment provides “a safe place for gay men to have consensual sex.”

How does a club meant to provide a “safe place” end up hosting a member’s death? By working off a creative definition of “safe.”

At Men’s Parties, safety doesn’t mean ensuring that the apartment’s stairs, surfaces, and exposed metal pipes provide a secure sexual landscape for party attendees. It doesn’t even mean encouraging members to engage in protected sex. At 1618 14th St., “safe” means ensuring anonymous sex for a group of gay men sporting wedding rings, sensitive careers, or shame.

For a “men’s social club,” the regularly scheduled activities included little socializing. “There is very little to none, in terms of conversation,” says one visitor to the club, who says he has attended Men’s Parties over a dozen times in the past six years. “Everything is kept strictly anonymous. No one asks for phone numbers, and no one ever really leaves with someone else,” he says. “People come there, do their business, and leave.” The club reinforced the anonymity with a cover of darkness. “The steps leading down to the basement floor were very, very dark,” he says. “I think your eyes, under normal circumstances, could adjust. However, the place was still very dark and the steps were very steep.”

Unfortunately for Men’s Parties, police and city officials operate on a more traditional definition of “safety.” The man’s death marks the second major incident at the club to draw the scrutiny of the police, city officials, and neighbors. In 2005, a candle ignited a mattress in the building’s upper floor, causing $5,000 in damages and bringing fire officials inside the club. According to the Blade, the emergency response revealed an establishment with “exit signs, a reception desk, a row of gym lockers, and signs stating the hours the place was open”—but no certificate of occupancy or business licenses. In November of that year, five months following the fire, ads for the parties read: “We are expecting to move soon. Please call for more information.”

But the most heated safety concerns surrounding the Men’s Parties lie outside the scope of city regulation. According to the frequent visitor to the club, “The most dangerous condition there was the lack of condoms.…There are no bowls of condoms upstairs or downstairs, where most of the sex takes place,” he says. “To me, this was always a recipe for disaster.”

At first, Men’s Parties attempted to weather the unwelcome scrutiny of police, city officials, and neighbors. The evening following the death, the club had reopened for business. On Oct. 9, a regular half-page ad ran in the back pages of the Blade, inviting readers to come “socialize.” The same issue contained a news item on the man’s death. But within a week of the incident, the club had shuttered under the weight of exposure. The front gate, typically left ajar to signal that the party is on, had been locked. A message left on the advertised phone number now informs callers, “We are temporarily closed until further notice.”

A typical advertisement in the Washington Blade.

For years, the club had thrived under a thin cover: organized snacking. In an interview with NBC 4, self-identified “volunteer” Skip Miller described the activities of the club: “We have videos. We have sodas. We have snacks,” he said. In a Logan Circle ANC meeting addressing the death, 3rd District police Lieutenant Vanessa Moore said that the head of the club “does not take money per se. He does take donations for chips, dips, and soda. And we’ll leave it at that.”

Club memberships were easy to come by. All you had to do was show up at 1618 14th St. and provide a donation at the door. The club received plenty of donations in recent years, thanks to the shuttering of gay clubs displaced by Nationals Park. As the city’s above-board clubs struggled to secure properties and licenses in new neighborhoods, Men’s Parties reaped the benefits of their closures, under the table, courting business with ads that read: “The spirit of Southeast lives on.” That spirit included a little bit more than light snacking. “No one pays $12 to eat stale pretzels and off-label lemon lime soda,” the visitor says. “The snacks are placed in large communal bowls and grabbed by hands that have been up asses.” The club’s main activity required little overhead. “Many are having bareback sex, but some are only masturbating or receiving oral sex,” he says.

Twelve dollars may be a bit pricey for stale pretzels, but it’s a small price to pay for anonymity. And no one has benefited from the club’s secrecy more than its organizers. In a 2005 item on the fire, the Blade declined to print the organizer’s name because “he is not openly gay at his regular place of work.” The Oct. 4 death prompted the Blade to get a little bit more specific: “The organizer of the men’s parties…asked that he be identified only as David.” Even the run-down conditions of the club may have benefited the organizers. “A lot of people, gay and straight, don’t know the place exists,” says the partygoer. “Among those that do, there is such shame attached to go to the place—not because of the sex, but because it is so dirty, grimy, smelly—that most don’t talk about it openly.”

Records show that David J. Butler incorporated a domestic nonprofit called the “D.C. Wrestling Club” at his Foggy Bottom apartment in 1994. The club’s members were described as “sports enthusiasts, especially of collegiate wrestling.” Butler, 68, is listed as the club’s president, treasurer, and registered agent. The club’s secretary, Robert D. Meza, listed his residence as 1618 14th St. NW. For a time, the incorporation lent an air of legitimacy to party organizers and provided an easy explanation for donation cash flow. The Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs has since revoked the Wrestling Club’s corporation status.

Butler did not return several messages left at the club’s advertised number, nor did he respond to a note left at his Foggy Bottom residence. Knocks at 1618 14th St. were unanswered.

If Men’s Parties remains closed, its clientele may be left without a place to meet up. Communication among this crowd of anonymous sex seekers, after all, has always been a bit awkward. Several years ago, a flier appeared in the neighborhood that read: “If you had sex with Skip at Men Party 1618 14th St You need to get tested HIV.”

UPDATE: District of Columbia files lawsuit against Men's Parties

D.C. Police Describe Men's Parties Location: Used Condoms, Glory Holes, and a Crucifix

Photo by Darrow Montgomery