10.18.18 Tampa Bay Bureau Chief’s Desk

I was recently confronted by a woman wearing one of the most disturbing masks I’d ever seen, at least up close.

I’ve seen some frightening things in my time. I’ve trudged through Howl-O-Scream, I’ve watched this administration fill Supreme Court vacancies and I’m from Ohio. But this was different.

She wasn’t overtly intimidating. The woman stood no more than five feet tall, was draped in overalls and peered up at me from behind wire rim glasses nestled neatly on her nose. Her graying ponytail was draped tightly across her back and a GoPro was strapped across her rather frail front.

She was likely someone’s semi-tech savvy grandmother, maybe even a loving one to those she deemed worthy. But she was a far cry from my own, because the mask she wore was hate.

This isn’t a Halloween story, though it’s frightening in other ways. It’s a tale of drag queens, picture books and of the dozen or so religious protesters who decided to surround the inaugural Drag Queen Story Hour Tampa Bay some weeks ago.

If you’re not familiar, Drag Queen Story Hour features drag entertainers reading stories to children. Local educators brought it to our area to capture the imagination of children and give them positive LGBTQ role models.

My husband does drag, something I’ve discussed in previous columns and I’ll just reiterate makes me happy because it makes him happy. He agreed to read at their first event, so I tagged along.

We learned en route that protestors had begun to gather, carrying signs spewing hatred and chanting Bible verses they felt shared their message. It hadn’t even occurred to us that something like that would happen, and that’s where we met Lady GoPro.

My husband’s hair barely fit in my front seat that morning but I could tell something more had shaken him. I let him know he didn’t have to go, that I’d turn us around and support him either way. He told me he wasn’t backing down; a group of children were waiting. Hate can be louder than love if we let it and he wasn’t going to.

While the majority of protestors stayed outside, the woman had disguised herself as a customer of the venue and snuck in. After the reading was underway she interrupted to let us know we’d spend eternity in damnation, children and adults.

Behind her wire rims, the coldest eyes I’d ever seen peered into mine. “Jesus loves you,” she crowed, believing herself, “and he’ll love you straight to Hell. You have a choice to make.” The choice was to watch the police eventually escort her out, which I’ll admit was a satisfying end.

As it tends to, love definitely won. The kids adored the book and the activities that followed and supporters showed up in droves. They confronted the protestors inside and out with reason and for the most part, respect.

Seeing my husband read a book about a little boy who loves mermaids to children – no, it wasn’t my autobiography – reinforced the positive impact our community can have on others. We’re always given opportunities to change hearts and minds if we decide to take them.

I’m proud of him for a number of reasons, but that morning sticks out. Nerves or not, he recognized the importance of drowning hatred in love. We walked through shouts of hellfire for him to do exactly that.

Hellfire is descending in Tampa Bay and Central Florida in other ways as locals prepare to eat, drink and be scary for Halloween. We’ve gathered a list of some of the most scintillating spooks throughout each area for you to trick or treat yourself to.

We also check in with Parliament House costume contest winners for some tips of the trade and tour the Tampa Theatre’s Nightmare on Franklin Street. If that’s not your idea of skele-fun, our staff presents our favorite scary movies for your queue.

In much less pun-filled Tampa Bay news, we review Metro Wellness and Community Centers’ relaunch of St. Petersburg’s LGBTQ Welcome Center. We also venture over to Sarasota to preview the organization’s 29th annual PrideFest. In Central Florida, a new children’s book explains the Pulse tragedy to young readers and the One Orlando Alliance names its new executive director.

In Arts and Entertainment, professional Tampa Bay haunter and podcaster Scott Swenson talks living hauntingly ever after. We also talk to the star of “Jersey Boys” ahead of the show’s Orlando run.

Watermark strives to bring you a variety of stories each issue—your stories. I hope you enjoy this latest issue. Happy Halloween!