Harvey Milk's voice rang out once again in City Hall as friends, family, and admirers of the gay rights icon gathered for the unveiling of a memorial bust commemorating the first openly gay person elected to office in a major U.S. city.

Capping the hour-long ceremony and tribute to Milk on Thursday, May 22 “what would have been his 78th birthday“ was the playing of a recording of Milk reciting his "Hope" speech. In his famous recital Milk can be heard saying his reason for shedding the closet and running for office as an out gay man was to give hope to gay people across the country, and in particular, to the "young boy in Altoona, Pennsylvania" who called him up after seeing Milk on the nightly news to thank him for being an inspiration.

In a fitting tribute to that legacy, several members of gay-straight alliances at Bay Area schools had the honor of removing a blue shroud covering Milk's bust. For the students, it was the chance of a lifetime.

"It's absolutely a memorable experience. I got to do something that will go down in history," said Castro Valley resident Kyle Lakatos, an openly gay 17-year-old.

"It was a pretty big honor," added 17-year-old Dwyn Davis, an out lesbian from Burlingame. "We are all youth activists. We do a lot of fighting for equality in the schools."

Having the City Hall memorial bestowed upon Milk – the first time such an honor has been given to a gay person in any seat of government in the country – sends a hopeful message to LGBT students, she said.

"A lot of times these statues are given to heterosexuals, so it is nice to see this honor given to people who aren't the 'norm.' It is good for youth to see not just heterosexuals given such a tribute but that anyone can get one," said Davis.

In 1977 Milk successfully ran for a city supervisor seat, becoming the first out gay man, and only the third out candidate in the country, to win a race for public office. The next year he crisscrossed the state to help defeat a statewide initiative that would have banned gay people from being hired as public school teachers.

The celebrations over Milk's second political triumph would turn to mourning a few weeks later when former board colleague Dan White assassinated Milk, along with then-Mayor George Moscone, on the morning of November 27, 1978 in their City Hall offices.

Ever since that day friends of Milk have tried off and on to place a bust of the slain gay rights leader in City Hall. The effort gained renewed attention in 2003, but foundered for several years as fundraising came up short.

The bust became a reality in 2006 when the Bob Ross Foundation donated more than $74,000 to the project. Following a public vote, the Daub Firmin and Hendrickson Sculpture Group won the commission to make the bust. Ross was the late publisher and co-founder of the Bay Area Reporter who hired Milk to pen political columns for the paper in the early 1970s.

"Bob Ross and Harvey were good friends, political allies, and collaborators. It is entirely appropriate that the foundation that bears Bob's name helped make this a reality," said B.A.R. publisher Thomas E. Horn during the ceremony last week.

Horn applauded Joey Cain and Dan Nicoletta, the co-chairs of the memorial committee, for being pugnacious in overseeing the effort to place the bust in City Hall.

"Joey and Dan, they had the vision. They wouldn't let the dream die," said Horn. "Harvey and Bob would be so proud."

Shortly after the unveiling, Nicoletta said he was "sort of in shock" at seeing the committee's work come to fruition.

"It's about time. We have had enough darkness around that legacy," said Nicoletta.

Milk's nephew, Stuart Milk, who is himself gay, was a teenager when his uncle was killed. He said that no matter where he travels, once people learn of his family ties to Harvey, they thank him.

"People know who Harvey Milk is. They know where San Francisco is and that it was behind Harvey Milk," said Stuart Milk, who was named this week as a celebrity grand marshal for next month's Pride celebration.

Mayor Gavin Newsom greeted the hundreds of people gathered at the foot of the Beaux Arts-style building's grand staircase for what he called a "historic occasion."

"It goes without saying its been a historic week here in the city and we are proud of it," said Newsom, referring to the state Supreme Court issuing its favorable gay marriage ruling a week prior to the unveiling event.

Stuart Milk noted that the last time he was in the city to help dedicate an honor to his famous uncle – that time to unveil a photographic tribute at Harvey Milk Plaza in the Castro – it was one week after Massachusetts' highest court ruled in favor of gay marriage.

"I don't think it's a coincidence that it's now a week after the court ruled here," said Stuart Milk.

Supervisor Tom Ammiano said not a day goes by when he walks up the stairs in City Hall that he doesn't think of Milk. The unveiling of the bust also brought back darker memories, he said.

"I am thinking of how many people in those days thought Milk and George Moscone died of natural causes. I am thinking about the people who thought they should be killed because they were gay, Jewish, and stood-up for equality," said Ammiano. "I am thinking about the people who thought they should be killed because they would not shut up. To them I say shut up."

Ammiano added, "Thank you, Harvey. Thank you, Harvey, for coming home."

Openly gay city Treasurer Jose Cisneros declared that with the memorial's installation City Hall was now "Harvey Milk's house."

"That bust up there will ensure nobody ever forgets that from this day forward," said Cisneros.

Anne Kronenberg, a close friend and aide to Milk, recalled that back then when a dignitary would visit City Hall a red carpet would be rolled down the staircase to greet them. Milk's favorite thing to do during those times was to walk up and down the carpet pretending to be royalty.

"It was Harvey's favorite thing. He bowed to imaginary people," she said.

What she remembers most, said Kronenberg, was Milk's spirit and ability to captivate people.

"He had this way about him. He would immediately engage people, the media, community leaders, and fellow politicians. He was a maestro at having other people follow him," she said. "Welcome home Harvey to City Hall where you belong."

Milk's pied piper ways ensnared Jim Illig, currently president of the city's Health Commission.

"I knew Harvey. Harvey Milk stole my boyfriend ... and I still voted for him," remarked Illig.

Deputized as a marriage commissioner, Illig said he is thrilled with the decision to place the bust in the rotunda.

"I do weddings there and Harvey will be smiling at me," said Illig. "Harvey's going to be right there looking down on those weddings, both gay and straight."

Many celebrants said Milk's legacy continues to this day, whether in the organizations that owe their beginning to the beloved politician or in those candidates who have followed in his footsteps by running for political office, win or lose.

San Francisco resident Brian McConnell credits Milk as the main influencer for his decision to run for a seat on the city council of Blacksburg, Virginia, after graduating from Virginia Tech.

"I ran as an openly gay candidate and lost by about 300 votes. I was inspired by the whole Harvey Milk story," recalled McConnell, whose decision to screen the documentary The Life and Times of Harvey Milk on campus was met by a backlash from religious student leaders. "The Christian groups got all upset. They called it propaganda."

He said placing the bust of Milk in City Hall is a fitting tribute but expressed astonishment that it took so long to happen.

"I am kind of surprised it didn't happen already," said McConnell.

Community United Against Violence Executive Director Jovida Ross said the LGBT anti-violence agency traces it roots to the White Night riots that erupted in the city in 1979 after White was acquitted of murder and instead found guilty of manslaughter for the deaths of Milk and Moscone. It was on Milk's birthday that year, said Ross, that members of the gay community became safety monitors known as the butterfly brigades to protect against police harassment.

"We couldn't trust the police to keep us safe back then so we trained ourselves," said Ross. "I am proud to celebrate Harvey because he is a big part of our legacy."

Others pointed to Milk's coalition building with other communities, such as Latino civil rights leaders and labor organizers, as the reason why he inspires their work today.

"For me it's really important to be here to honor Harvey Milk's legacy because he always was an ally to the Latino community and their struggles," said Kimberly Alvarenga, a lesbian who is director of community organizing at the Bernal Heights Neighborhood Center.

Juan Barajas, recently hired by the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation as its senior director for the San Francisco Bay Area and northern California, equated his new role in ensuring accurate and fair coverage of the LGBT community in the media as carrying on Milk's message of the need for gay people to be out and proud.

"Harvey Milk was one of the most visible figures in the early moments of the gay rights movement. GLAAD's focus is on increasing visibility of LGBT people so it is really important for us to honor him," said Barajas.