Florida senators, pass a bill prohibiting homosexuals from adopting children; the statute survived several court challenges, including one to the United States Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit in 2004. A state court overturned the ban in 2010, in In re Gill. Disbandment and sealed records Lawmakers outraged at what the media were calling "state-sponsored pornography" forbade the printing of further copies and eliminated funding for the Johns Committee at the next legislative session. The committee subsequently disbanded and ceased its work on July 1, 1965, having amassed 30,000 pages of secret documents, which were left in the custody of the Legislature, to be kept sealed for 72 years. In 1993, however, bowing to pressure from Florida historians under the state's public records law, the Legislature authorized the placement in the Florida State Archives of a photocopied set of the records, with all individuals' names blacked out except those of the committee's members, staff, and public officials. The redacted records are available for public review at the archives in Tallahassee. They were used in researching the book Queering the Redneck Riviera. Sexuality and the Origins of Florida Tourism, published in 2018. Aftermath Although his committee folded when the Legislature withdrew funding, Johns remained proud of his work: In a 1972 interview, Charley Johns said he saw the committee as a way to stamp out homosexuality. He said he was particularly disturbed by the number of homosexuals at U.F. "I don't get no love out of hurting people. But that situation in Gainesville, my Lord have mercy. I never saw nothing like it in my life. If we saved one boy from being made homosexual, it was justified." Victims of the witch-hunt felt differently, however. When interviewed in 2000 for the movie Behind Closed Doors, Art Coppleston said: I moved on to a successful and somewhat normal life as a gay man. …But, never far in the background, has lurked the shadow of Investigator Tileston and the gnawing feeling that what I am, the very essence of my being, is somehow wrong. Bad. Sinful. Unworthy. I will probably never rid myself of those feelings. But time, and the new knowledge that others know about what went on in Florida some 40 years ago, makes those feelings a lot easier to bear. The Florida Legislative Investigation Committee has been called Florida's version of McCarthyism, and a Florida version of the House