I wanted to post something Friday, but I just didn't feel up to it.

I remember first reading about AIDS in the early 80s. Then it was known as GRID - Gay-Related Immune Deficiency. Doctors in California and New York City had started seeing cases of Kaposi's sarcoma, which prior to then was very rare and found mainly in older men of Mediterranean or African origin and elderly men of Jewish descent.

The initial thorough article I came across was one in "Rolling Stone." An article I'd saved, but which must have gotten thrown out in the moving last year.

At first no one knew what to make of it. This was also about the time, I started going to the local queer bar. I remember talking with someone about it, and I was very surprised that he knew of it, because there had been so little in the media about it.

But within the next year or so, it snuck into Jackson, and I began to hear stories of guys who had it. At that point there were no drugs available. People would be around one week and literally gone the next.

I have a very vivid recollection of sitting on a Friday evening at the first commemoration service in the city, one at the Episcopal Cathedral of St. Andrew's. Sitting and silently weeping.

This was followed by a number of other services at varying Episcopal churches. And finally a service at the Roman Catholic Cathedral of St Peter's.

Something that did make it through last year's move was a folder of obits I clipped from the local paper of people who died of AIDS. The earliest clipping is from August of '91; the last,May of '96. By then so many things had happened that I did not try to track the obits any more.

There is one exception though of someone, whom I'll call Jim, who died in August of '98. I somehow had come to recognize certain physical signs that told me a person had AIDS. The most noticeable was a facial paleness that was unique and always reliable. I never knew what caused this. If it was a reaction to the disease or to some medication. I never heard anyone else mention noticing it. Nor did I ever encounter it in any of the literature I read.

On December 31, '97, a friend and I attended a New Year's Eve party. There were some people I knew; some I recognized; and many I did not know. At some point, I glanced up and saw Jim, and knew immediately he was ill. For whatever reason, I don't remember talking with him. I think he only stayed a short period and left.

He and I were fairly good friends. And he frequently mentioned his exploits on the road for he loved to travel. Although, I never said anything, I knew his behavior included a degree of sexual risk.

He was from a small town south of Jackson and still lived on the farm where he grew up. He was tall and was always the epitome of vitality. He was easygoing with a quick, sly smile. And I think in my way I loved him. As I've done so many times before and since. He lingers in my memories, and I think of him from time to time.

Once or twice before I've written of someone I knew who died. See I Remember Michael. Also International AIDS Day.

Of the services I mentioned earlier, the one at St. Peter's left a special mark with me, and I've save the program. I want to leave with a quote from that service.

We gather this night in compassionate support.

Embracing those living with HIV and AIDS and the worried well.

Creator of the World; Our God, Adonai, Allah, The Compassionate One, Wisdom, Spirit: We call you by many names for you have made us many people.

We gather before you in praise and song to seek your healing for all who live in fear and hurt.

Move us from suffering to healing, out of darkness to light and from silence to celebration.

PAX!