The issue you are reading is the first edition of our third year of publication. Yes, believe it or not, GA Voice officially turns two on March 16, 2012. If that makes you feel old, welcome to our club.
We launched two years ago in the wake of the demise of Southern Voice which closed its doors in November, 2009. Most of our readers are well acquainted with that story by now, but here is the abridged version for those of you who might not know us that well:
David Magazine, a gay Atlanta nightlife and event publication, has been sold to new owners, according to the magazine's Chief Operating Officer Chip O'Kelley. The sale officially occurred on July 18.
Former owner and David Magazine publisher Matt Neumann will remain an adviser to the new owners for one or two weeks while the transition takes place, according to O'Kelly.
“Probably no more than two weeks,” O'Kelley said today by phone when asked how long Neumann will remain in an advisory position with David Atlanta. “Our goal is to transition him out in two weeks. Matt [Neuman] has been coordinating with the printer. It's necessary to do that kind of hand-off. There is information that only he knows or has dealt with.”
This issue of the GA Voice marks an important milestone for any small company, and especially a company in an industry that many claim is on the wane: It is Volume 2, Issue 1. Our first year is history, and we are forging full speed ahead into our second.
Like so many things in life, the GA Voice began with an ending. The seeds of the GA Voice were planted Nov. 16, 2009, when the staff of Southern Voice — the city’s LGBT newspaper for more than 20 years — learned that paper’s parent company, Window Media, had changed the locks and filed for bankruptcy.
It was an abrupt end to a long, slow decline brought on by a poor economy, declining advertising sales in print media, and most importantly, Window Media’s drive to expand the chain at all costs.
When I heard about Southern Voice closing, like many people, I was devastated. I felt as if someone close to me had died; like a friend I loved but with whom I had lost touch. Even though I did not know much about what my friend had been doing or feeling in the past decade my feelings still ran deep and strong.
Like any loss it brought a period of grief and a flood of memories. People and events that had not crossed my mind in a very long time were suddenly at the forefront. I remembered good people, not bad ones; victories, not losses. It surprised me that those memories did not carry a hint of bitterness or regret.