by Karen Ocamb

Kurt Knutsson, best known to KTLA TV fans as “Kurt the CyberGuy,” exemplifies that new generation of professionals for whom being openly gay is simply integral to their character and not an issue up for debate or a cause for celebrity.

Nonetheless, Knutsson was “greatly honored” when asked to be the grand marshal for the 25th Long Beach Lesbian and Gay Pride Parade on May 18.

An “avid fan” of the parade since arriving in Los Angeles from New Orleans in 1996—where he “honed the ability to know what a real parade should look like”— Knutsson told IN Los Angeles magazine he is happy to move from being a side-line spectator to assume a more visible role in the LGBT community.

“We’re a great people,” he said, “and we live in an amazing country where we can be who we want to be.”

Knutsson’s ebullient self-confidence comes from working in a profession he loves and a having commitment to face down fear.

Born on July 27, 1967, in Tampa, Fla., Knutsson spent his youth on the move as his father, “an aggressive businessman,” chased promotions until he finally started his own business. Knutsson eventually landed at Tulane University in New Orleans, from which he graduated in 1991.

“I plotted my course to L.A. when I was 8 years old. I watched The Grapes of Wrath and said, ‘That’s where I want to live,’” Knutsson said. “I used to sit in front of the TV set and mimic voices from it. That’s one thing that got me going in radio and broadcasting.”

He also developed a love for science and technology.

“I’ve always been fascinated with how things work,” Knutsson said. “I would busy myself with disassembling things—the home intercom system, the clock radio, you name it. Today it still haunts me—a wooden chest filled with Ziploc bags of the items I couldn’t figure out how to put back together.”

A fifth grade science teacher in a Christian school introduced him to technology. “Mr. Burgess got a couple of Radio Shack computers and taught us basic programming language. And I fell in love with computers,” Knutsson said.

Knutsson didn’t have an “epiphany” about being gay, though he suspects he was 14 or 15 when he thought, “If I am gay, who else is?” The only gay person he knew was a flamboyant hair stylist with whom he did not identify. But later in life, being gay didn’t seem to matter.

“I decided that whatever fears may come along, I wasn’t going to let them steer me in any particular direction. Not just with gayness—anything with fear,” he said. “It’s nothing that is going to control my life, if I can help it.”

When Knutsson came out to his family in the early ’90s, his mother “had a bad reaction” that caused a separation for several years. But, Knutsson said, “I won’t ever be a second-class citizen. I won’t allow it.” Later they reconciled over a “good bowl of gumbo.”

Knutsson also felt “the potential of fear” when he got his break in 1996 as a technology reporter at KTLA, with help from the syndicated show’s creator, openly gay TV producer Richard Ayoub. Back then, KTLA struck Knutsson as a “very buttoned-up, conservative company.”

“It just didn’t seem like the right place to come out,” Knutsson said, “mainly because they want a particular female demographic to be attracted to the talent. But I decided if someone asked me—and it was appropriate—I would say I’m gay or that I’m with someone. I wouldn’t hold back.”

That happened one day when helicopter reporter Jennifer York asked Knutsson, “What’s your story?”

“She was trying to figure me out. And she’d invited me to some function, and I said, ‘Well, my partner and I are going to this other thing. I’m sorry we can’t make it.’ And she said, ‘Partner?’ I decided it was appropriate and natural to just reveal that I was gay and unavailable. Her reaction was, ‘Oh, my God, I can’t believe it. You’re not gay. You’re not gay!’ I said, ‘Yeah, don’t worry about it. Sure am.’”

Knutsson doesn’t know if York then alerted the rest of the media. But in 1999, when he asked the station manager why KTLA had not bought a table at a gay charity event, the manager handed him a check for $12,000 and sent out a mass e-mail inviting staff to attend. “That was my professional coming out,” Knutsson said.

Being out has helped Knutsson assist the LGBT community. For instance, when gay voice-over artist Trev Broudy was brutally beaten outside his West Hollywood apartment in 2002, Broudy’s friend, Dave Walsh, called Knutsson to help get media coverage. Because he was openly gay, his colleagues could better relate to the horror of the crime. “It got immediate attention,” Knutsson said.

Knutsson also helps non-LGBT charities such as the Nancy Davis Multiple Sclerosis Foundation (www.erasems.org) and EmpowerTech (www.cac.org), which builds technology for free to help disabled people to communicate, work and enjoy recreation.

“I live a fairy-tale life. Every day I wake up and go, ‘Holy moley! I get to play with gadgets and get a paycheck for hanging out with pop-culture stars like Paris Hilton,” who he said is “delightful and very business savvy.”

After 12 years, his syndicated technology show, Kurt the CyberGuy, is seen in 4.8 million homes. He was the first to report on the iPhone; he reported from a rigged phone while stuck in Hurricane Katrina; he’s interviewed technology giants, Hollywood stars and sports legends; and he also earned a Columbia University journalism award.

Knutsson has “no idea” if Sam Zell, the new owner of the Tribune Company (which owns KTLA), knows or cares about his sexual orientation. But, Knutsson said, “I’m not afraid. If he has a problem, I’ll go to work across the street.”