Not very long before we had the pride flag and the pretty rainbow, there was the plague. Coming out as a gay man in the eighties meant mysterious deaths, antibody tests, and fears of internment along with endless funerals and a virus that was always 100 percent fatal.
This is one man's story of unexpected survival, southern adventure, and maybe even divine intervention, all of which came with a surprising and surprisingly fantastic soundtrack.
The eighties was a decade known for great music, and if you were a gay man, it was also known for great heartache and grief. For me, there was plenty of both, and this is my story of being one of the first to be infected and one of the very few to survive the early days of what was once an always 100 percent fatal diagnosis.