In addition to all the crap related to COVID-19 that we have all experienced together, the past 12 months of my life have been punctuated with loss.
I won’t go into detail but suffice it to say that more than a half dozen souls of people with whom I considered myself close have left this Earth over the past year in addition to a dozen more folks whose work I applauded and/or whose talents I have enjoyed who have also moved on to the great beyond, whatever that may be.
For a good portion of that same period of time we were saddled with the daily deluge of hate-fueled nonsense and outright lies from our most recently former President of the United States who proved himself to be no friend to the LGBTQ+ community. Then too, there was the daily body count of those shot to death is mass killings or of those murdered during the course of a routine traffic stop and the like.
It’s been a lot to handle.
So it was with a great deal of pent-up emotion and an earnest need for something uplifting that I was honored to attend the wedding of the publisher of this newspaper — formerly known as Rick Claggett, now Rick Todd —on Sunday, April 25 to this paper’s creative designer and chief photographer, Dylan Todd.
Aside from the grooms’ obvious association to this publication, what makes this event worthy of mentioning in this forum is the fact that this legal marriage of these two same-sex individuals could occur in the first place and that the ceremony was held outside, in the light of day, in a public park for all passersby to see and witness — which they did — without registering disdain and without being disruptive to the ceremony; in fact, being very respectful of the proceedings.
This is quite simply something I never believed I would live to see.
For those of us of a certain age it seems like only yesterday that we were protesting on the steps of Orlando City Hall demanding that we as LGBTQ persons receive fair and equal treatment from the Orlando Police Department. We came again to those steps to call for an end to the unwarranted arrests of those “perceived to be gay” in our public parks and to register our disgust with the elaborate entrapment tactics of the MBI, Metro Bureau of Investigation, which unbelievably was a joint effort of the Orlando Police Department and the Orange County Sheriff’s Department created for the sole and specific purpose of ridding public parks and gathering places of the dreaded homosexuals.
I mean not to single myself out with regards to those early protests, I was but one among many who stood gay and proud in the face of such widespread homophobia. There were legions of individuals who repeatedly stood up to and against the powers that be at the time, who were out and proud on behalf of those who felt it unsafe to be so. If you are reading this column and you were among those individuals, you should be proud of what you helped achieve.
And I’m not talking ancient history here. I’m referencing events of the late 1980s. It was during this time that I, as executive director of The Center had to engage in a battle with the phone company (at that time Southern Bell) because they refused to list the number of our “gay community services” because they deemed the word “gay” to be offensive to the majority of users of the phone book. They further contended that the word “gay” being printed in the phone book constituted an affront to acceptable community standards.
It was so routine for persons thought to be gay to be fired from their jobs due to their sexual orientation in the Orlando area during the ’70s and ’80s that press coverage of early gay events — such as the annual Gay Pride Picnic — were banned. Press were not allowed anywhere near gay events for fear a name or a picture might appear in the newspaper causing that person the loss of their employment. It really was that routine. Even as last as 1990 we had to cancel a nearly sold-out, after-hours private gay event set to be held at Busch Gardens when requests for refunds came pouring in after a Tampa-based Christian radio broadcaster repeatedly announced that an army of good Christian volunteers would be taking down the license plate numbers of all the cars in the Busch Gardens parking lot during the event and publishing them in the Tampa Tribune and the Orlando Sentinel in ads they were happy to pay for that would also feature as many pictures of attendees as they could manage to sneakily snap. The requests for refunds came in a deluge and the event had to be scrapped.
So it is amazing to me that now we as a gay community can and do court the press and we value the coverage of our events as being part of the fabric of the community at large. That we can and do proudly hold events in public places without fear of retribution from law enforcement which we now see as our protectors rather than our advisories which they truly and honestly were as recently as 30 years ago.
I mean not to single myself out with regards to those early protests as I was but one among many who stood gay and proud in the face of such wide-spread homophobia. There was a legion of individuals who repeatedly stood up to and against the powers that be at the time, and who were out and proud on behalf of those who felt it unsafe to be so.
If you are reading this column and you were among those who attended the “SLAP – Sharing Love and Affection In the Park” protest and press conference held in what was then Mayor Carl Langford Park and over which the invited coverage by all three network affiliates at that time as well as CNN culminated in the discontinuance of targeting gays in the park for unwarranted arrests — you should be proud of what you helped achieve.
If you were among those who came out to Constitution Park to protest the unwarranted firing of Deputy Thomas Woodard from the Orange County Sheriff’s Department on the suspicion of being gay and/or you contributed to the Watermark fund set up to pay for Woodard’s legal expenses (a landmark case/decision co-chaired by Lambda Legal Defense) which resulted in Woodard’s return to work with all back pay and benefits reinstated then you should be proud of what you helped achieve.
If you were among those brave souls who marched in the first-ever Orlando Gay Pride Parade down Orange Ave. where the marchers outnumbered the onlookers — and the onlookers were populated by the likes of The American Family Association and the Klu Klux Klan in full white-sheet regalia counter-protesting in the ugliest of fashions — then you should be proud of what you did.
If you were a member of “We The People” during the late ’80s and early ’90s, fighting the good fights and making our presence as a gay community known and seen and felt at every possible occasion then you should be proud of what you did.
For those of you reading this column who have no touchstone to any of what I am referencing herein, try and take a moment and imagine an Orlando where you as a LGBTQ+ individual were not accepted in society but rather were feared. Imagine an Orlando where you were not protected by the police but were instead targeted by police and harassed and even jailed on trumped up charges. Imagine living in an Orlando where simply being perceived as being gay could get you arrested in Lake Eola Park. Then imagine, if you will, what it is like for those of us who are old enough to have witnessed all of that to now drive by Lake Eola Park and see the colors of the Pride rainbow permanently incorporated into the paint design of the Walt Disney Amphitheater. Imagine what is was like for someone like myself to be invited to the steps of Orlando City Hall — not to make a protest speech — but rather to witness the marriage of 50 same-sex couples officiated by the Mayor of Orlando with the proceedings being proactively protected by the Orlando Police Department. THIS on the same steps on which we protested for change in what seemed to be in the blink of an eye ago.
I honestly never thought I would live long enough to see marriage equality become a reality in this country. But it has and I’ve since attended many a gay nuptial and indeed officiated a number of same-sex marriages as well, and yet I still get completely choked-up at every such occasion of which I am privileged to witness.
Rick and Dylan’s wedding was a beautiful occasion pulled off with just the right touches that make a gay wedding — dare I say it, dare I say it — so much more fun to attend than the weddings of most straight couples. But it was also an unintended statement to all the passersby’s who were just out to enjoy a day in the park. These unsuspecting semi-participants were a witness to recently-made history playing out in front of their eyes. I couldn’t help but smile at the number of children I saw pass by and my heart just swelled with the joy of knowing these kids would be growing up in a world where these types of weddings are commonplace. My heart was also warmed by witnessing these two dear friends, who are so clearly in love with one another, take their vows. But the fact that this same-sex couple was being married right in the middle of Leu Gardens with nary a protester or Klansmen to be found and with the unsuspecting John Q. Public passing by quietly out of respect for the ceremony was just plain luscious to drink in.
The wedding of Mr. and Mr. Todd was the brightest of occasions that helped lift me, and I’m sure so many others, up out of the morass of the past year and gave all who attended not just something to celebrate but to savor. For all the setbacks related to the pandemic, the marriage of Rick and Dylan Todd provided a much needed reminder of just how far we as a community have come and all that we have achieved.
All my best wishes go out to Dylan and Rick on their marriage and to Orlando I say — well done!
