Tucker Shaw is the editor of Cook’s Country magazine. He recently wrote a powerful series of tweets recalling the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s.
The memory was inspired by a two young men he overheard on the subway talking about the crisis in what Shaw describes as “a scholarly way.”
Now, his tweets are going viral:
I overheard a young man on the train on the way home today, talking to another young man. Holding hands. In college, I guessed. About that age anyway. Much younger than I am.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
He was talking about AIDS, in a scholarly way. About how it had galvanized the gay community. How it had spurred change. Paved the way to make things better, in the long run.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
The long run.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Maybe he’s right. I don’t know. It’s not the first time I’ve heard the theory. He spoke with clarity and with confidence. Youthful, full of conviction. But.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Remember how terrible it was, not that long ago, during the worst times. How many beautiful friends died. One after the other. Brutally. Restlessly. Brittle and damp. In cold rooms with hot lights. Remember?
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Some nights, you’d sneak in to that hospital downtown after visiting hours, just to see who was around. It wasn’t hard.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
You’d bring a boom box. Fresh gossip. Trashy magazines and cheap paperbacks. Hash brownies. Anything. Nothing.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
You’d get kicked out, but you’d sneak back in. Kicked out again. Back in again. Sometimes you’d recognize a friend. Sometimes you wouldn’t.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Other nights, you’d go out to dance and drink. A different distraction. You’d see a face in the dark, in the back of the bar. Is it you? Old friend! No. Not him. Just a ghost.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
At work, you’d find an umbrella, one you’d borrowed a few rainstorms ago from a coworker. I should return it, you’d think. No. No need. He’s gone. It’s yours now.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Season after season. Year after year.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
One day you’d get lucky and meet someone lovely. You’d feel happy, optimistic. You’d make plans.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Together, you’d keep a list of names in a notebook you bought for thirty cents in Chinatown so you could remember who was still here and who wasn’t, because it was so easy to forget.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
But there were so many names to write down. Too many names. Names you didn’t want to write down.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
When he finally had to go too, you got rid of the notebook. No more names.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Your friends would come over with takeout and wine and you’d see how hard they tried not to ask when he was coming home because they knew he wasn’t coming home. No one came home. You’d turn 24.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
When he’d been gone long enough and it was time to get rid of his stuff, they’d say so. It’s time. And you’d do it, you’d give away the shirts, sweaters, jackets. Everything.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Except those shoes. You remember the ones. He loved those shoes, you’d say. We loved those shoes. I’ll keep those shoes under the bed.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
You’d move to a new neighborhood. You’d unpack the first night, take a shower, make the bed because it’d be bedtime. You’d think of the shoes. For the first time, you’d put them on. Look at those shoes. What great shoes.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
Air. You’d need air. You’d walk outside in the shoes, just to the stoop. You’d sit. A breeze. A neighbor steps past. “Great shoes,” she’d say. But the shoes are too big for you.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
You’d sit for a while, maybe an hour, maybe more. Then you’d unlace the shoes, set them by the trash on the curb. You’d go back upstairs in your socks. The phone is ringing. More news.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
The long run. Wasn’t that long ago.
— Tucker Shaw (@tucker_shaw) September 18, 2018
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I overheard a young man on the train on the way home today, talking to another young man. Holding hands. In college, I guessed. About that age anyway. Much younger than I am. He was talking about AIDS, in a scholarly way. About how it had galvanized the gay community. How it had spurred change. Paved the way to make things better, in the long run.
The long run.
Maybe he’s right. I don’t know. It’s not the first time I’ve heard the theory. He spoke with clarity and with confidence. Youthful, full of conviction. But. Remember how terrible it was, not that long ago, during the worst times. How many beautiful friends died. One after the other. Brutally. Restlessly. Brittle and damp. In cold rooms with hot lights. Remember? Some nights, you’d sneak in to that hospital downtown after visiting hours, just to see who was around. It wasn’t hard. You’d bring a boom box. Fresh gossip. Trashy magazines and cheap paperbacks. Hash brownies. Anything. Nothing. You’d get kicked out, but you’d sneak back in. Kicked out again. Back in again. Sometimes you’d recognize a friend. Sometimes you wouldn’t.
Other nights, you’d go out to dance and drink. A different distraction. You’d see a face in the dark, in the back of the bar. Is it you? Old friend! No. Not him. Just a ghost. At work, you’d find an umbrella, one you’d borrowed a few rainstorms ago from a coworker. I should return it, you’d think. No. No need. He’s gone. It’s yours now. Season after season. Year after year.
One day you’d get lucky and meet someone lovely. You’d feel happy, optimistic. You’d make plans. Together, you’d keep a list of names in a notebook you bought for thirty cents in Chinatown so you could remember who was still here and who wasn’t, because it was so easy to forget. But there were so many names to write down. Too many names. Names you didn’t want to write down. When he finally had to go too, you got rid of the notebook. No more names.
Your friends would come over with takeout and wine and you’d see how hard they tried not to ask when he was coming home because they knew he wasn’t coming home. No one came home. You’d turn 24. When he’d been gone long enough and it was time to get rid of his stuff, they’d say so. It’s time. And you’d do it, you’d give away the shirts, sweaters, jackets. Everything. Except those shoes. You remember the ones. He loved those shoes, you’d say. We loved those shoes. I’ll keep those shoes under the bed.
You’d move to a new neighborhood. You’d unpack the first night, take a shower, make the bed because it’d be bedtime. You’d think of the shoes. For the first time, you’d put them on. Look at those shoes. What great shoes. Air. You’d need air. You’d walk outside in the shoes, just to the stoop. You’d sit. A breeze. A neighbor steps past. “Great shoes,” she’d say. But the shoes are too big for you. You’d sit for a while, maybe an hour, maybe more. Then you’d unlace the shoes, set them by the trash on the curb. You’d go back upstairs in your socks. The phone is ringing. More news.
The long run. Wasn’t that long ago.
Related: Let’s never forget the critical role lesbians have played fighting AIDS
Macraymusic
Literally. Tears in my coffee cup. The most beautifully painful expression I think I’ve ever read.
olfwob
I cried too. He found the words, i never was able to find all that years.
Rock-N-RollHS
yeah, and slavery brought Christianity to Africans. . . people will spin anything for their own narcissism.
Rock-N-RollHS
btw, not making this crap up: have heard this argument.
bodie425
I fail to see any benefit to christian nonsense being foisted on Africans for no other reason than to galvanize the belief that “slaves (should) obey your masters.”
Kangol
Christianity arrived in Africa long before chattel slavery, first in Ethiopia and Eritrea, and later in the Congo. But I know, ahistorical, moronic people make this inane, offensive argument….
thisisnotreal
This is one of the most eloquent, poetic, moving, vivid collection of words I’ve ever read in my life.
KevInSD
A great deal is known about the epidemiology of HIV. How it first infected humans in the early 20th century. How there were local outbreaks over the course of the 20th century, with each one fizzling out and escaping notice of public health authorities. It was only in the late 20th century that an outbreak turned into an epidemic, and that was entirely due to promiscuity. In the US, the first 100 homosexuals who were diagnosed with AIDS and available for study reported a median of 1,100 sex partners. By the early 1980s, infection was so widespread in cities that all gay and bi men were at risk, even if they were not particularly promiscuous. Because HIV was so prevalent, even one random sexual encounter carried a significant risk of exposure. This is a good example of how promiscuity is not merely a private affair which doesn’t impact anyone else.
At the end of the day, the men who created an gay subculture based on long-term, hyper-promiscuity are responsible for the epidemic among gay and bi men. They aren’t responsible for the virus itself, obviously, but they are responsible for its spread to hundreds of thousands of people, who would never have been infected had their subculture sponsored different sexual norms. Thank heaven that their subculture is dying out at every level.
StraightnNarrow
I am never fond of sentimentalized writing like this one, which never touches upon the real cause of the AIDS epidemic. Due to the out-of-control 70’s gay promiscuity, the disease was able to spread so furiously to innocent gay men who might not be promiscuous but was fatally infected by some severely promiscuous low lives. A lot of gay men back then collectively paid the ultimate price for the grave sins of just a few. If we can’t learn from our past mistakes, another fatal disease will strike those who refuse to repent.
DHT
Did you know this? What if you were beautiful and poor and in a bar underage because your “friends” ditched you and you were then drug raped while a lot of guys stood around and watched and did nothing? If you then went on to work in a blood lab in 1981-82 when health care practitioners knew something was going on and we knew who definitely had this disease but there were no treatments of course, what if you then injected yourself with not knowing if you had already been infected or not? You had a 50-50 change that you could have injected the blood and the virus is dead. If the virus wasn’t dead because the sample was preserved in a syringe on ice when you received it then you could have injected yourself with a live virus, but if you already had the virus you really had nothing to worry about. So that leaves you with a 25% chance of injecting yourself with a live virus when you didn’t have the disease. But what if there was a possibility that injection could have save your life by increasing your resistance? Would you have injected it in yourself to try to save your life despite the fact that you might be exposing others? Sounds insane right?
bodie425
Frankly, your pious tirade is infuriating. Many of these men were vilified, ostracized, and disowned. Their families didn’t just hate them, they wished them dead or never born. They didn’t just wish them dead, the wished them eternity in a lake of fire for eternal suffering. Sex was a drug that gave pleasure and happiness where there was none in the world. A drug at ones fingertips, or the nearest park or bar. I don’t know how old you are or whether you were there like I was. If you were there, you’re no better than the vile preachers that scream gay men cause hurricanes and tornados. If you weren’t tho, read some history of just how bad it has been for gay men and women throughout history.
I can’t begin to express the anger I feel at your pompous, sour words.
Chrisk
@bodie425. KevinSD used to go by Danny595 before Queerty banned the name for trolling. According to his own words he’s in somewhere in his twenties. Although, he’s been at it for a very long time here on Queerty.
StraightnNarrow
bodie425, another shameful display of victim mentality. They feel like victims of their circumstances so they blame everyone else but themselves for all the grave sins they commit, doing drugs, anonymous hookups, getting drunk and nasty. It’s all other people’s faults. I can think of many people who are in the exactly the same situations but they don’t do drugs, they don’t live a promiscuous lifestyle or online hookups. You don’t get my sympathy when all you do is play this blame game. You are exactly who you become because of your choices. Just wake up and snap out of that blame game.
Dave4445
Please, there’s very little difference between Grindr and Tinder from what my straight friends have shared with me. I see very little difference between behavior today and in the late 70s when I came out. Young people are horny and love hooking up, that will never change as long as we have our freedom of choice. HIV is a virus, not a judgment from your god. In Africa it’s a heterosexual majority phenomenon.
The ‘gay subculture’ has gone nowhere. If anything, it’s so mainstream that it’s hardly a subculture anymore. Nobody really gives a F who sleeps with who. You poor pathetic sap.
drumstick
Hey KevinSD. Why don’t you spread you ignorant conspiracy theories to the 20 million Africans who have died of HIV/AIDS or the millions of women who died of the disease. I was there for it. You clearly weren’t. I suggest you check out the stories on the Instagram account called AIDS Memorial, or simply follow the hashtag #whatisrememberedlives. You will quickly discover that HIV was not a gay disease or even a promiscuous one. And the gay subculture has been around for all of history. It’s not going anywhere..
StraightnNarrow
Nobody says AIDS is a gay disease but it is a fact that it was mainly a fatal infection in the 80s that primarily struck promiscuous gays and later on the low-life needle sharers. Like Kevin said, gays in the 80s are not responsible for the AIDS virus itself but their promiscuous behaviors helped super charge the virus and its fast and wide spread.
Chrisk
I always throw that back at the bigots. The fact that 20 million straight people were the first and most hard hit doesn’t fit into their narrative of sex shaming. .
StraightnNarrow
chrisk, if you don’t have anything meaning to say about this topic, it is recommended that you restrict your remarks to weather conditions.
Chrisk
@StraightnNarrow. Nope but I’d say it’s getting close for Queerty to put another ban on your account. Eh CastleSF.
DHT
Having survived to that age of 60 I knew many guys of course who died of AIDS. My first lover was a beautiful man who didn’t deserve to die this way and I honestly mourn him. I honestly don’t mourn most of them.
cynicalsteve
Definitely the anti-gay Russian bots and trolls are out in full force. I’d just ignore them. Blow past their statements of “facts”.
bowlingbutch
I mourn all the talent the world lost to AIDS. If you only knew one person who died that is too many. We were too young to be saying good-bye to friends and acquaintances. We were supposed to be supportive when we grow old. I knew people who felt guilty because they didn’t understand why they were not sick and so many others were . And again we were having to experience so much grief way too early in our lives. I do think the deaths brought us out of the closet sooner because we didn’t accept people’s hate while we were burying people we cared about..
DHT
Whenever we read something we don’t like about ourselves we can always blame Russians for writing it because we know there are no evil gay men after all.
Kangol
AIDS, particularly before 1995, was a devastating global pandemic. It wiped out sizable communities of gay, bi and closeted men, and many women and children. Whether you had unprotected sex one time or 1,000, the virus cast its dice and you could end up with a losing number. To shame, attack and humiliate people who seroconverted to HIV and died of AIDS is a truly evil act, and was not uncommon during the very worst days of the AIDS epidemic, but clearly there are hate-filled people posting on here who think that’s a good plan of action. These people also regularly post homophobic, misogynistic and/or racist claptrap, under multiple names, and think that is way to engage with a website that focuses on gay/LGBTQ people. I don’t know whether Queerty will ban them (again), but perhaps if others ignore their sick, hate-filled posts, that would be a good idea.
StraightnNarrow
I am glad you didn’t ignore those posts you despise so much. Good response though, Kangol. It’s good to hear some different voices from gays who don’t think the way you and your sort do. I know you have tried to be tolerant but if you are being honest with yourself, tolerance is never one of your virtues, is it?
justgeo
Yep their mind will ‘freeze dry’ any thing that it can’t deal with they are children who knows when they will realize what they are talking about. Makes me sad makes me angry makes me pity the entitled vacuous life they are aloud to live in.
wrmcfee
I was just 18 to 19 years old during the peak of the AIDS epidemic and I vividly remember the loss of friends, the bigotry and the dismissive attitudes, and above all – being terrified all the time.
This eloquent and articulate look at that very bleak time brought back a flood of beautiful, and painful memories of some truly beautiful people forever lost to the world.
Thank you for sharing this with us.