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Showing posts with label Rock Hudson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rock Hudson. Show all posts

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Rock Hudson...lover Marc Christian dies! Brief encounter...




Today the Los Angeles Times announced in the obituary section of the daily that Marc Christian passed to spirit on June 2nd (!) earlier this year of pulmonary complications @ the Providence Saint Joseph Medical Center in Burank (CA).

Why was the report not forthcoming sooner?

Christian's sister - Susan Dahl - confided to a journalist that she did not publicly announce the death because she was respecting Marc's wish for privacy.

However, once contacted, Ms. Dahl confirmed the facts surrounding Christian's medical condition which resulted in his demise, and the actual date of passing.

Mr. Christian triggered a glut of  a sensational headlines around the globe when it was publicly disclosed that -  he was not only Rock Hudson's lover - buy may have been exposed to HIV (or A.I.D.S.) because of an ongoing sexual relationship with the  50's Screen idol (who allegedly failed to reveal the fact he was a carrier of the deadly virus).

Until that time, little was known about HIV (& A.I.D.S.), except that there was no known cure.

Consequently, when medical facts were first reported in the media, there was a lot of hysteria.

Individuals with the dreaded disease were shunned (even by medical care workers who worried about their own safety), U.S. Immigration Officials denied access to foreigners known to be afflicted with the virus, and a carefree sexually-unhibited lifestyle (once accepted in ultra-liberal states like California) was suddenly strictly-taboo.

There was a lot of finger-pointing, too.

When it was revealed that Rock Hudson was HIV positive (and rapidly advancing to the end stages of full-blown A.I.D.S.) - for the first time since the mysterious outbreak  - a known face became associated with the insiduous disease.

Indeed, Rock's infection actually humanized the disease.

Consequently, there was a rush to raise funds for research - and a collaborative effort by prominent specialists in the realm of infectious disease studies - to come up with medical treatments and a cure.

Understandably, for the aforementioned reasons, the Marc Christian story was forefront in the news.

After all, Christian was not only one of the first gay men to seek a money-damage award from a male lover, but also the first individual (male or female) to seek compensation for being exposed unwittingly to the killer virus while having sex with a partner who willfully failed to disclose their medical condition.

Several years ago, through an acquaintance of mine in New York, I was invited to attend a chic fashion show at a tony estate in Beverly Hills.

On the day of the much-anticipated event, I invited a buxom beauty from Texas - actress Sandra Sexton - to come along for the ride.

Shortly after we settled into our seats, Sandra spied Rock Hudson standing alone on the other side of the room, looking terribly non-chalant.

Suddenly, Sandra poked me in the side, and drawled in that sexy voice of hers:

"Darling, Rock is cruising you."

When  I glanced his way in response to her quip, I happened to catch his eye, and he grinned.

I wasn't surprised by his subtle advances; after all, it was well-known in the gay community that Rock had a thing for young male blonds. 

Like moi!

I couldn't help but notice that he appeared to be a bit gaunt, though; nonetheless, the legendary screen idol was still a spectacularly handsome man.

"Go over and talk to him," Sandra urged.

No way, Jose! 

I wasn't going to make a fawning fool of myself.

However, shortly after a brief tiff over the issue, I spied the acquaintance who invited me to the soiree chatting up Mr. Hudson.

Well, now, if I was a manipulative conniving person, I would have seized on the opportunity to casually stroll over and say hi to my acquaintance - knowing full well - that he would undoubtedly turn to Rock and introduce us.

But, that was too obvious, in my estimation. 

So, I passed.

A short while later, the shocking news about Rock Hudson hit the fan (so to speak), and the grueling legal battle in the Courts over the Marc Christian allegations commenced with every titillating detail being dished up daily.

Of course, defense counsel tore Marc Christian apart, as they are want to do when a litigant is out to fleece their client (before they have the opportunity to raid the coffers first).

Christian was accused of being a male hustler, a gold-digger, a straight dude with no allegiance to anything but a fast buck.

On the contrary, on one brief encounter, I determined that Marc was most certainly gay - or at a minimum - at least bisexual..

For example, one day after devouring a tasty lunch at the French Marketplace in West Hollywood, I strolled into the men's room to snatch up a bit of tissue to blow my nose.

Right away, I noticed a pair of feet parked on the floor inside the stall to the cubicle, so I decided to wait a sec until the guest finished up so I could take care of my own little business.

As I leaned against the wall, I suddenly spotted Marc Christian taking a whiz at the urinal, about two feet away from where I was standing.

The moment his name flashed inside my fuzzy little head, he turned in my direction, and gave me the once-over.

I swear to God!

Then, a second or two later, he stepped back from the urinal, and exposed his half-aroused co** to me!

Whoa nellie!

The rumors were true; he was obviously hung like a horse when "rock" (no pun intended) hard.

No wonder Rock was shacked up with the guy (although I understand that Hudson was no slouch in the meat and potatoes department, either, if you get my drift).

Christian was tempting!

There was a bad-boy quality about him that was kind-of sexually arousing!

But, as far as I was concerned, there was too much baggage.

Bottom line?

I'm not inclined towards toilet-room sex.

Romance me, Dudes.

That's the quickest way to get me into the sack.

Unless you're a handsome blond surfer with chiseled abs in ragged blue jeans, that is!





Brief encounter with Marc Christian @ French Marketplace



Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Elizabeth Taylor...A.I.D.S. activist. The last great Hollywood star!


Every time a big event - like PASSPORT or the A.I.D.S. Walk - rolls around each year, I am inclined to recall the compassionate efforts of Elizabeth Taylor on behalf of the cause.

Last fall, Elizabeth was honored with a Humanitarian Award by Macy's for her courageous AIDS activism, at a glittering gala event.

Although the much-anticipated event attracted a bevy of beautiful models, A-list stars, and Hollywood's power elite, it was Ms. Taylor - the mega star - who knocked the crowd dead when she appeared on stage in a coffee-coloured gold-sequinned Naeem Kahn gown and a stunning collection of dazzling diamonds consisting of fifty carats in all.

The legendary star was presented the award for her tireless devotion to the A.I.D.S. cause which has raised millions for research and delivered up much-needed aid for those suffering from the disease.

I vividly recall the day a few scant years ago when a room-mate directed my attention to a two-line report in one of the local throw-away newspapers about a mysterious "cancer-like" disease which appeared to be striking young gay men.

Within a year, newspaper headlines around the globe were screaming about a widespread "gay plague", which had been given a curious name by the medical community: "Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome".

In the early days of the outbreak, there was a lot of hysteria.

The country was rampant with fear, overcome by widespread panic, and at a loss to comprehend the complexity of the issues.

Initially, because the causes for contracting the virus were relatively unknown - and so little was known about the deadly intruder - those stricken with the disease were shunned.

The paranoia was so great - that even life-long friends and cherished family members - were afraid to hug or kiss the bodies of the afflicted.

The ignorance was astounding.

The United States government further shocked a disbelieving medical community when they stepped into the fray; in a bold-faced effort to "curb the disease", they implemented a ban on any individual who tested positive for HIV from entering the country.

Injustice and troubling discrimination were the order of the day.

On the sidelines, I struggled to boost the morale of those around me, infected with the deadly virus.

One long-time friend was so afraid of being found "out" that he stored his AZT in vitamin bottles - prompted by the disturbing thought that on a trip to the bathroom - a friend or neighbor might happen upon the evidence of his infection in the medicine cabinet.

Others were so terrified of being spied in the waiting room of an HIV specialist's office - that they travelled miles outside of the city for medical care - where they were faceless and unknown.

One neighbor made a pact with his doctor to have his prescriptions mailed by the U.S. Post to avoid physically appearing in the busy clinic office

The stigma of A.I.D.S. was far-reaching and frightening.

As I reflect on the issue, I am flooded with many painful memories.

One week, a pal might be healthy, then - the next - appear gaunt.

If anyone was caught off-guard and inadvertently stared at him - like a cornered animal - he would defensively swear up-and-down that he had the flu (so mortified was he at the thought of being "found out").

And, for many, there were the unexpected middle-of-the-night emergency trips to the hospital to halt a nasty bout of pneumonia - or suppress some unknown invader attacking the immune system - brought on by a host of opportunistic infections.

One known actor - who appeared in a film about drug smuggling - was so concerned that Hollywood industry-insiders might catch wind of his infection that he passed on treatment.

Although there were medicines available to prolong the young man's life, sadly - because of the trauma of dealing with the circumstances - he was incapable of reaching out for any physical, moral or spiritual support.

I recall with disgust that a model - known for his breathtaking looks and manly physique - was quickly abandoned by casting agents and theatrical reps when his ravaged body first showed signs of the effects of the disease.

It was heart-wrenching to witness the disturbing demise of a person in the harsh throes of the initial discrimination in the early days of the outbreak of the disease in this country.

First hand, I also witnessed the horrors of the killer disease.

One day as I walked into my agent's office, he confided in me that he had tested positive for HIV.

After reading reams of data on the subject, I tried to coach him on the need to reduce his stress levels, eat a proper diet, commence with available drugs to combat the virus, and make an all-out constructive effort to take rein on his life.

Unfortunately, he was unable to manage his own self-care in any capacity.

He drew up his will, and was resigned to die, in spite of my urgent protests.

In the final stages of his illness, I'd appear at his bedside each day to hold his hand and give comfort to his weary body, all the while inwardly praying for a miracle.

In the last days, it was heart-wrenching to witness his faculties wane by the second.

Only after the pain became unbearable, and a morphine drip was administered, did he finally find peace after his gentle spirit slipped away from us.

Yes, the early days of the A.I.D.S. epidemic were shocking, heartbreaking, and discouraging.

In fact, it was not until it was revealed that Rock Hudson was dying from A.I.D.S., that the world became painfully aware that the virus did not discriminate - and that it could strike anyone - man, woman, or child.

At this juncture, Ms. Taylor stepped in and began to fight for the cause.

Initially - when Taylor called old friends and business associates for financial contributions, telephones were slammed down on her ear - she recalled at the gala with a bad taste in her mouth.

If anyone had a lot to lose in pursuing the ugly task, it was Taylor.

The celebrated actress first arrived in Hollywood several decades ago when her father, an art dealer, opened a gallery in Beverly Hills.

No doubt, this is how the connoisseur of fine paintings was introduced to her first love: Art.

With the nurturing support of her loving parents - in a few short years - Ms. Taylor was under contract with Universal Studios.

When Universal Studios dropped her contract, she signed on with MGM.


She first captured America's hearts in classic films like "Lassie Come Home" and "National Velvet" (in which she co-starred with Mickey Rooney).

Mature roles followed; for example, she starred with William Powell and Irene Dunne in the perennial favorite, "LIFE WITH FATHER".


Then, she snapped up roles in "Rhapsody", "Beau Brummel", and "The Last Time I saw Paris".

Over the years, Ms. Taylor honed her craft, won the respect of the industry, and proceeded to nab Oscars for memorable performances in "Butterfield 8" and the film adaptation of Edward Albee's thought-provoking stage drama, "Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf".

Her personal life was just as glamorous and exciting!

Elizabeth Taylor's first marriage was to the dashing Hotel heir - Nicky Hilton - on May 6 (my birthday) at the tender age of 18.

Although the two were a handsome couple, the union was later annulled on grounds of mental cruelty.

Later, Elizabeth found true love when her paths crossed with film producer, Michael Todd. Although the union appeared to be headed towards domestic bliss, tragedy struck.

Originally, Taylor was to fly with Todd on a promotional tour for - "Around the World in 80 days" - but the young beauty was forced to convalesce at home due to a serious bout of the flu.

Later that night, the plane crashed; sadly, Todd was killed.

In the consoling arms of dear friend, Eddie Fisher, Ms. Taylor stumbled on passion once again.

However, there was one hitch: the famed crooner was married to America's girl-next-door, Debbie Reynolds.

Amid scandalous headlines, and the scorn of the American public, Taylor and Fisher were married.

That short-lived romance was doomed to fail because of a twist of fate no one - not even Ms. Taylor - could anticipate.

When Ms. Taylor was offered the role of Cleopatra, she was not interested in the part, originally.

On a lark, she informed the studio that she would accept the role, if she was paid the whopping sum of $1,000,000.00

Her jaw dropped when the answer came back from the studio: sign on the dotted line, please!

Suddenly, Ms. Taylor had the distinction of being the highest paid actress in Hollywood, the first to crack a salary in the six-figure-range in Tinseltown.

It turned out to be a deal more than she bargained for.

On the set, Elizabeth met and fell in love with gutsy Richard Burton, in spite of the fact each were betrothed to another.

Ms. Taylor was suddenly crowned the dubious title of most notorious seductress in the world!

To complicate matters, the production of Cleopatra was hindered with delays, setbacks, and sluggish, behind-the-scenes dramas.

The most costly film of the modern day ended up a surefire bomb at the box office!

Only in recent years has the studio recovered the losses.

Liz and Dick (as they'd come to be known) went on their merry way - the toast of the International Jet set - sipping on vintage champagne, munching on Beluga caviar, and cruising throughout exotic locales on luxury yachts.

The tempestuous fights were legendary.

But, the vulgar fabulous jewels Burton gifted her with, more eye-popping.

Only Elizabeth could manage to escape the curse of the 33.19-carat Asscher-cut Krupp diamond her insatiable lover gifted her with in 1968.

After they divorced ( twice) Elizabeth floundered - not only in her professional life - but in her personal sphere, as well.

And, the subject of her weight became fodder for comics on the nightclub circuit.

Was the most beautiful woman in the world becoming a national joke?

About the time one wondered what would become of her, Mr. Hudson's crisis galvanized her into action.

Clearly, Ms. Taylor needed a cause, or a direction in life, to put her on the path again and out of harm's way.

Her goal was clear: to find a cure and put an end to discrimination.

In addition, she engaged in a bold-faced compassionate effort to bring solace and comfort to those suffering with the disease, until those ends could be accomplished.

Through her arduous efforts, a spotlight was thrown on the dark corners of the epidemic.

And to her great surprise, supporters sprang from all quarters, to stand by her side in the fight against the killer virus.

Money was not only raised to fund vital research - but also provide hospital care, life-prolonging drugs, and out-patient health-care services for A.I.D.S. patients - who could ill-afford them.

Through her tireless efforts (and those of a handful of others just as dedicated) A.I.D.S. is now a manageable disease in North America.

Unfortunately, this is not so in third-world countries.

In spite of the wealth of the world, that goal has yet to be attained.

Is it within our grasp?

In my humble opinion - there is no reason today for any mother or child in Africa (or elsewhere for that matter) - to suffer, be denied access to emergency medical care, or die before their life expectancy.

Now, the fight must move stridently beyond these shores, to ensure aid is provided in developing nations.

It is my unfailing belief that we are each a part of the whole.

And thus - it stands to good reason - that we are only as healthy as the total of all parts.

Until A.I.D.S is under control worldwide, we remain unhealthy as a whole in the global community.

And so, the fight must continue.

And it can, due to the remarkable works of individuals, like Ms. Taylor.

Ms. Taylor has often been referred to as the last great Hollywood star.

Let's hope she remains in our galaxy for quite some time - shining brightly - so that we may bask in the reflected glow of her dazzling healing light.

And in the process, inspire each and every one of us to take up the cause, to lessen her burden and that of others.



Sunday, September 30, 2007

Elizabeth Taylor...honored for A.I.D.S. activism. A great lady!


Every time a big event - like PASSPORT or the A.I.D.S. Walk - rolls around each year, I am inclined to recall the compassionate efforts of Elizabeth Taylor on behalf of the cause.

Last fall, Elizabeth was honored with a Humanitarian Award by Macy's for her courageous AIDS activism, at a glittering gala event.

Although the much-anticipated event attracted a bevy of beautiful models, A-list stars, and Hollywood's power elite, it was Ms. Taylor - the mega star - who knocked the crowd dead when she appeared on stage in a coffee-coloured gold-sequinned Naeem Kahn gown and a stunning collection of dazzling diamonds consisting of fifty carats in all.

The legendary star was presented the award for her tireless devotion to the A.I.D.S. cause which has raised millions for research and delivered up much-needed aid for those suffering from the disease.

I vividly recall the day a few scant years ago when a room-mate directed my attention to a two-line report in one of the local throw-away newspapers about a mysterious "cancer-like" disease which appeared to be striking young gay men.

Within a year, newspaper headlines around the globe were screaming about a widespread "gay plague", which had been given a curious name by the medical community: "Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome".

In the early days of the outbreak, there was a lot of hysteria.

The country was rampant with fear, overcome by widespread panic, and at a loss to comprehend the complexity of the issues.

Initially, because the causes for contracting the virus were relatively unknown - and so little was known about the deadly intruder - those stricken with the disease were shunned.

The paranoia was so great - that even life-long friends and cherished family members - were afraid to hug or kiss the bodies of the afflicted.

The ignorance was astounding.

The United States government further shocked a disbelieving medical community when they stepped into the fray; in a bold-faced effort to "curb the disease", they implemented a ban on any individual who tested positive for HIV from entering the country.

Injustice and troubling discrimination were the order of the day.

On the sidelines, I struggled to boost the morale of those around me, infected with the deadly virus.

One long-time friend was so afraid of being found "out" that he stored his AZT in vitamin bottles - prompted by the disturbing thought that on a trip to the bathroom - a friend or neighbor might happen upon the evidence of his infection in the medicine cabinet.

Others were so terrified of being spied in the waiting room of an HIV specialist's office - that they travelled miles outside of the city for medical care - where they were faceless and unknown.

One neighbor made a pact with his doctor to have his prescriptions mailed by the U.S. Post to avoid physically appearing in the busy clinic office

The stigma of A.I.D.S. was far-reaching and frightening.

As I reflect on the issue, I am flooded with many painful memories.

One week, a pal might be healthy, then - the next - appear gaunt.

If anyone was caught off-guard and inadvertently stared at him - like a cornered animal - he would defensively swear up-and-down that he had the flu (so mortified was he at the thought of being "found out").

And, for many, there were the unexpected middle-of-the-night emergency trips to the hospital to halt a nasty bout of pneumonia - or suppress some unknown invader attacking the immune system - brought on by a host of opportunistic infections.

One known actor - who appeared in a film about drug smuggling - was so concerned that Hollywood industry-insiders might catch wind of his infection that he passed on treatment.

Although there were medicines available to prolong the young man's life, sadly - because of the trauma of dealing with the circumstances - he was incapable of reaching out for any physical, moral or spiritual support.

I recall with disgust that a model - known for his breathtaking looks and manly physique - was quickly abandoned by casting agents and theatrical reps when his ravaged body first showed signs of the effects of the disease.

It was heart-wrenching to witness the disturbing demise of a person in the harsh throes of the initial discrimination in the early days of the outbreak of the disease in this country.

First hand, I also witnessed the horrors of the killer disease.

One day as I walked into my agent's office, he confided in me that he had tested positive for HIV.

After reading reams of data on the subject, I tried to coach him on the need to reduce his stress levels, eat a proper diet, commence with available drugs to combat the virus, and make an all-out constructive effort to take rein on his life.

Unfortunately, he was unable to manage his own self-care in any capacity.

He drew up his will, and was resigned to die, in spite of my urgent protests.

In the final stages of his illness, I'd appear at his bedside each day to hold his hand and give comfort to his weary body, all the while inwardly praying for a miracle.

In the last days, it was heart-wrenching to witness his faculties wane by the second.

Only after the pain became unbearable, and a morphine drip was administered, did he finally find peace after his gentle spirit slipped away from us.

Yes, the early days of the A.I.D.S. epidemic were shocking, heartbreaking, and discouraging.

In fact, it was not until it was revealed that Rock Hudson was dying from A.I.D.S., that the world became painfully aware that the virus did not discriminate - and that it could strike anyone - man, woman, or child.

At this juncture, Ms. Taylor stepped in and began to fight for the cause.

Initially - when Taylor called old friends and business associates for financial contributions, telephones were slammed down on her ear - she recalled at the gala with a bad taste in her mouth.

If anyone had a lot to lose in pursuing the ugly task, it was Taylor.

The celebrated actress first arrived in Hollywood several decades ago when her father, an art dealer, opened a gallery in Beverly Hills.

No doubt, this is how the connoisseur of fine paintings was introduced to her first love: Art.

With the nurturing support of her loving parents - in a few short years - Ms. Taylor was under contract with Universal Studios.

When Universal Studios dropped her contract, she signed on with MGM.


She first captured America's hearts in classic films like "Lassie Come Home" and "National Velvet" (in which she co-starred with Mickey Rooney).

Mature roles followed; for example, she starred with William Powell and Irene Dunne in the perennial favorite, "LIFE WITH FATHER".


Then, she snapped up roles in "Rhapsody", "Beau Brummel", and "The Last Time I saw Paris".

Over the years, Ms. Taylor honed her craft, won the respect of the industry, and proceeded to nab Oscars for memorable performances in "Butterfield 8" and the film adaptation of Edward Albee's thought-provoking stage drama, "Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf".

Her personal life was just as glamorous and exciting!

Elizabeth Taylor's first marriage was to the dashing Hotel heir - Nicky Hilton - on May 6 (my birthday) at the tender age of 18.

Although the two were a handsome couple, the union was later annulled on grounds of mental cruelty.

Later, Elizabeth found true love when her paths crossed with film producer, Michael Todd. Although the union appeared to be headed towards domestic bliss, tragedy struck.

Originally, Taylor was to fly with Todd on a promotional tour for - "Around the World in 80 days" - but the young beauty was forced to convalesce at home due to a serious bout of the flu.

Later that night, the plane crashed; sadly, Todd was killed.

In the consoling arms of dear friend, Eddie Fisher, Ms. Taylor stumbled on passion once again.

However, there was one hitch: the famed crooner was married to America's girl-next-door, Debbie Reynolds.

Amid scandalous headlines, and the scorn of the American public, Taylor and Fisher were married.

That short-lived romance was doomed to fail because of a twist of fate no one - not even Ms. Taylor - could anticipate.

When Ms. Taylor was offered the role of Cleopatra, she was not interested in the part, originally.

On a lark, she informed the studio that she would accept the role, if she was paid the whopping sum of $1,000,000.00

Her jaw dropped when the answer came back from the studio: sign on the dotted line, please!

Suddenly, Ms. Taylor had the distinction of being the highest paid actress in Hollywood, the first to crack a salary in the six-figure-range in Tinseltown.

It turned out to be a deal more than she bargained for.

On the set, Elizabeth met and fell in love with gutsy Richard Burton, in spite of the fact each were betrothed to another.

Ms. Taylor was suddenly crowned the dubious title of most notorious seductress in the world!

To complicate matters, the production of Cleopatra was hindered with delays, setbacks, and sluggish, behind-the-scenes dramas.

The most costly film of the modern day ended up a surefire bomb at the box office!

Only in recent years has the studio recovered the losses.

Liz and Dick (as they'd come to be known) went on their merry way - the toast of the International Jet set - sipping on vintage champagne, munching on Beluga caviar, and cruising throughout exotic locales on luxury yachts.

The tempestuous fights were legendary.

But, the vulgar fabulous jewels Burton gifted her with, more eye-popping.

Only Elizabeth could manage to escape the curse of the 33.19-carat Asscher-cut Krupp diamond her insatiable lover gifted her with in 1968.

After they divorced ( twice) Elizabeth floundered - not only in her professional life - but in her personal sphere, as well.

And, the subject of her weight became fodder for comics on the nightclub circuit.

Was the most beautiful woman in the world becoming a national joke?

About the time one wondered what would become of her, Mr. Hudson's crisis galvanized her into action.

Clearly, Ms. Taylor needed a cause, or a direction in life, to put her on the path again and out of harm's way.

Her goal was clear: to find a cure and put an end to discrimination.

In addition, she engaged in a bold-faced compassionate effort to bring solace and comfort to those suffering with the disease, until those ends could be accomplished.

Through her arduous efforts, a spotlight was thrown on the dark corners of the epidemic.

And to her great surprise, supporters sprang from all quarters, to stand by her side in the fight against the killer virus.

Money was not only raised to fund vital research - but also provide hospital care, life-prolonging drugs, and out-patient health-care services for A.I.D.S. patients - who could ill-afford them.

Through her tireless efforts (and those of a handful of others just as dedicated) A.I.D.S. is now a manageable disease in North America.

Unfortunately, this is not so in third-world countries.

In spite of the wealth of the world, that goal has yet to be attained.

Is it within our grasp?

In my humble opinion - there is no reason today for any mother or child in Africa (or elsewhere for that matter) - to suffer, be denied access to emergency medical care, or die before their life expectancy.

Now, the fight must move stridently beyond these shores, to ensure aid is provided in developing nations.

It is my unfailing belief that we are each a part of the whole.

And thus - it stands to good reason - that we are only as healthy as the total of all parts.

Until A.I.D.S is under control worldwide, we remain unhealthy as a whole in the global community.

And so, the fight must continue.

And it can, due to the remarkable works of individuals, like Ms. Taylor.

Ms. Taylor has often been referred to as the last great Hollywood star.

Let's hope she remains in our galaxy for quite some time - shining brightly - so that we may bask in the reflected glow of her dazzling healing light.

And in the process, inspire each and every one of us to take up the cause, to lessen her burden and that of others.


 
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