Watermark founder | Publisher, 1994-2014 | Editor, various years between 1994-2009
When I first envisioned Watermark 30 years ago, my goal was to share — and encourage — the burgeoning richness of the local LGBT experience. Back then, I had only the slightest idea what that would come to mean.
I founded Watermark in1994 and served as publisher and often editor until 2014. During that time, Watermark was my entrée to unimagined people and experiences. I hope the same was true for our growing readership throughout Central Florida and Tampa Bay.
Together, we stood up to discrimination in its ugliest forms, endured a devastating pandemic and claimed our equality. We evolved, and patiently encouraged friends, co-workers and elected officials to do the same. In the pages of Watermark, we were inspired by local and national legends of our time. Led by their example, we discovered a real — almost cocky — pride in our uniqueness.
I’ll never forget walking through our offices and overhearing Cyndi Lauper’s distinctive Betty-Boop-from-Brooklyn voice responding to questions from our Kimboo York.
Or Scottie Campbell gushing over Larry Kramer until the activist and playwright finally interrupted and said, “Do you have any questions?”
Or Joan Rivers scolding Kirk Hartlage for wearing pajamas to work. “It shows no respect!”
Or Phyllis Diller educating Sam Singhaus regarding the inspiration for Cruella De Vil. “She is I, Sam. She is I!”
Or Gloria Steinem (still goosebumps) telling me about the patriarchy. “They’re threatened by same-sex couples because they can’t imagine equality in partnership.”
Thirty years ago, I could never have imagined the Watermark — or the world — of 2024. Under publisher Rick Todd’s leadership, Watermark is one of just a handful of remaining successful LGBTQ+ metro news sources. The talented staff and contributors continue to inform and inspire in print, online and on film with the remarkable documentary “Greetings From Queertown: Orlando.”
Watermark was first envisioned after I attended a Metropolitan Business Association (now The Pride Chamber) meeting where some local elected officials made uninformed and condescending remarks. I was frustrated that only the few dozen in attendance would see the work that lay ahead.
Just a few days later, I was in Atlanta having lunch at a restaurant where everyone seemed to be reading that city’s excellent LGBTQ+ publication, Southern Voice. I began to fantasize about people doing the same in Orlando’s awakening Thornton Park gayborhood. The image was so invigorating that I drove to the nearby offices of Southern Voice and asked to meet with the publishers, Chris Cash and Leigh Vanderels. They indulged my many questions and loaded me down with media kits and contacts.
Eight busy months later the first issue of Watermark was published. Creative director April Gustetter created an organized and beautiful layout. Advertising director Keith Peterson sold $10,000 worth of ads. And talented contributors came out of the woodwork to help me fill 24 pages, including a groundbreaking interview with out actress Amanda Bearse (“Married with Children”).
In less than a year the paper expanded to Tampa Bay, with the remarkable activist and journalist Todd Simmons serving as editor. And we continued to grow — sometimes to as many as 80 pages. The staff and contributors who facilitated that growth are too many to list, but they know who they are, and I hope they know how much they are appreciated, respected and loved.
I chose the newspaper’s name — Watermark — to reflect a demarcation point for the local LGBTQ+ community. But after the first issue was published a reader pointed out the more inspiring symbolism. A watermark is a transparent insignia on fine stationery, visible only when held up to the light. What a wonderful metaphor for Watermark’s readers, 30 years ago and now.
