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THE PARTY'S
OVER AS A GAY TOWN DIES
The
Sunday Times (London) January 11 1987
Norman
Fowler sets off for San Francisco this week to see
how America copes with Aids. BRIAN DEER visits the
city where once they said the party never stops
BY the long French window in the Village Deli
Cafe, the thin, balding man in his early 20s is
straining to take off his sweater. It is a slow and
tortuous business, but then that is how Aids very
often takes its course.
In
the cafe, in San Francisco's Castro Street, there is
little talk of Aids. Here, as in any Castro
restaurant, sufferers are a common sight and good
taste encourages euphemism. Most people now speak of
the "health problem", while many closest to
the crisis prefer to say nothing about it at all,
choosing for the present to concentrate on their
lives.
As
the man in the sweater settles again, another weary
diner, with a brown leather jacket, a walking stick
and a plastic tube to his nose, picks his way feebly
around the tables. He is clearly very sick and, like
the man by the window, his gaunt features and sunken
eyes are now the unforgettable face of what was once
America's most beautiful town.
This
week, in a three-city trip across America, Norman
Fowler, the social services secretary, will have an
opportunity to see this face, and glimpse what the
future holds at home. Graphs showing the rise in Aids
cases in Britain almost exactly match the earlier
pattern of increase in America, and doctors agree
that soon our streets will also have their walking
wounded.
"London
can expect to go through all of San Francisco's
experiences. Fowler has chosen the right place to
go," says Dr Charles Farthing, an Aids
specialist at St Stephen's hospital in London.
"Of all the cities with an Aids epidemic, San
Francisco is the only one which has handled it
well."
The
statistics are staggering. From 1981, when there were
just 84 cases of Aids diagnosed in the United States,
the number has soared to 29,000, with nearly a
quarter of them in California. No accurate figure can
be given for the number who have come in contact with
the virus, and hence are potentially at risk, but all
agencies put this in millions.
With
much of urban America, San Francisco has already
witnessed Britain's recent debates. Should Aids
patients be forcibly detained in hospitals? Is Aids a
"gay plague" of no concern to anyone else?
Should those affected by the virus be quarantined or
banned from certain jobs? Can a police officer catch
the virus by giving the kiss of life? Would a
campaign on moral values be effective in checking
disease?
On
every count, San Francisco has found that the answer
to these questions is no. As knowledge of the disease
and of the people who are at risk has grown, much of
the hysteria which engulfed America in the mid-1980s
has evaporated. In its place has developed a
practical strategy, hammered out by city authorities
and the huge self-help network that has grown up.
"The
thing that you can learn by coming to San Francisco
is that this problem can only be tackled by giving
people the information that will let them make their
own decisions," says Corrine Whitely of the
Pacific Center Aids project. "It is important
not to pass judgements on people, but to help them
protect themselves and the people they love."
Fowler
has already accepted much of this thinking, making
the government's media campaign lean towards
"safety first" messages, rather than overly
moral arguments. His American trip is likely to
reinforce his view and could lead to yet more
explicit information, found to be the most effective
way of changing people's behaviour.
Surveys
in San Francisco show that 80% of gay men, still the
biggest vulnerable group, have changed their habits
so they are no longer at risk of either contracting
the virus or passing it on. Although this means that
a worrying 20% are behaving dangerously, health
workers are encouraged that the incidence of
sexually-transmitted diseases has also shown a
massive drop. "We have taken the vast majority
out of the pool of those at risk," says Holly
Smith, of the San Francisco Aids Foundation.
Fowler
will also see the city's practical efforts to deal
with the crisis. Education programmes have been
launched for public service workers such as police
and fire officers, home care and hospices for the
sick or dying have been set up, and voluntary help
mobilised on an unprecedented scale.
But
when Fowler begins the steep descent into San
Francisco airport this week, he will also begin a
journey more impressive in its human terms than any
services can suggest. They once said of this idyllic
town that the party never stopped - and to witness it
transformed by disease, fear and sadness is bound to
leave the social services secretary better equipped
for his task in Britain.
"Okay
it was a party, but the party is over now for both
the straight and the gay communities," says Bob
Ross, publisher of the Bay Area Reporter which prints
columns of death notices for Aids victims.
"Every one of us here now has a friend or an
acquaintance who has Aids or who has died of it. I
think that has made us a more caring community than
perhaps once we might have been."
| brian deer |
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