Just a kid from Pompton Lakes turned Upper West Sider, I was lucky enough to be in a wide orbit around the incredibly exciting scene(s) that exploded out of the territory South of 14th St. This is the way "The Plague" played out before me.
There were a lot of needles and spoons around in the music scene. You could sell your blood, by the pint in Times Square or that place on Third Avenue (12th St.). More than half of my friends were gay and New York was "the" place to be in that world. Lots of nice people, great parties and club happenings. It was a great time.
A rumor started making the rounds about the guitar player in a very famous band. "He had some kind of weird disease, where, like, he can't fight off any cold for flu that might hit him". In less than a year, the press was telling us about Aquired Immune Difficiency Syndrome. AIDS.
In the first year or two, there was confusion everywhere. The first realization was that this disease was a death sentance. This was even before the HIV virus was known (or being reported about). Sunamis of misunderstanding about "how you get it". Sunamis of misunderstanding about how to stay safe from it. An awful lot of mean people had a voice about keeping the dying away from them, if you know what I mean.
If only you younger folks could have experienced how it felt in the next 5 years, or so, to hear of several deaths a month. To have a half dozen friends who were certainly going to die. They got skinny, sunken faces, and frightened eyes, increasing almost daily. The first (thousands) of victims were caught in the irony of not knowing anything about this disease when they were contracting their demises. You could see that irony in their faces right along with their disappearing life energy. For me, it was horrible.
And remember boys and girls, this story comes only from a clueless kid that had the nickname of "Beaver". I try to imagine the losses of many others.
It is profitable to pray for your dead.
There were a lot of needles and spoons around in the music scene. You could sell your blood, by the pint in Times Square or that place on Third Avenue (12th St.). More than half of my friends were gay and New York was "the" place to be in that world. Lots of nice people, great parties and club happenings. It was a great time.
A rumor started making the rounds about the guitar player in a very famous band. "He had some kind of weird disease, where, like, he can't fight off any cold for flu that might hit him". In less than a year, the press was telling us about Aquired Immune Difficiency Syndrome. AIDS.
In the first year or two, there was confusion everywhere. The first realization was that this disease was a death sentance. This was even before the HIV virus was known (or being reported about). Sunamis of misunderstanding about "how you get it". Sunamis of misunderstanding about how to stay safe from it. An awful lot of mean people had a voice about keeping the dying away from them, if you know what I mean.
If only you younger folks could have experienced how it felt in the next 5 years, or so, to hear of several deaths a month. To have a half dozen friends who were certainly going to die. They got skinny, sunken faces, and frightened eyes, increasing almost daily. The first (thousands) of victims were caught in the irony of not knowing anything about this disease when they were contracting their demises. You could see that irony in their faces right along with their disappearing life energy. For me, it was horrible.
And remember boys and girls, this story comes only from a clueless kid that had the nickname of "Beaver". I try to imagine the losses of many others.
It is profitable to pray for your dead.
Big Rob Loves
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