If you weren't around in the 1980's, it's kind of hard to imagine the scare that HIV-AIDS created. Nearly everyone began checking and rechecking their sexual partners.

Someone you hadn't seen in a while suddenly shows up at a bar looking healthy, and there was that sigh of relief.

Then there was the headline: Rock Hudson Dies of AIDS. There was no denying it by then.

For a while, some of us went to funerals so routinely, we left a white shirt and dark pants in a corner of the closet, ready to throw on at a moment's notice.

It's hard to ignore the stigma and shame. Sadly, only when the disease was well outside the gay community did some of that begin to fade.

We remember the people who are no longer here - lovers, friends, co-workers, and family members.

Two young guys buying their first home together come to mind most often. They circled the back fence of a house they had just placed an offer on, jumping up to get a peak at the back yard. They were as excited as a couple of puppies. About two months later, one of them had fallen sick.

A bunch of us stayed up one night and made quilts to add to the AIDS Memorial Quilt, but we've never seen the panels we made displayed.

Nearly 30 years later, everyone has been touched by AIDS in some way and a day of recognition seems fitting. New medications have helped to manage the disease, but rates of infection continue to rise.

It seemed like hope of finding a cure for AIDS had dimmed, but some of us have a renewed sense of optimism. Somewhere out there, someone is zeroing in on a discovery that will change everything.

AIDS is a difficult health challenge, but it is also a metaphor for how interconnected we are.

Hopefully, someday soon a new headline will finally read: Cure found.