By Sarah Gustafson, 15, Immaculate Heart

“Six-thirty a.m. Time to wake up, take a shower and get ready to work my butt off. Why would I be doing this on a Sunday morning? Today, September 27, my dad and I would join 25,000 others in the 14th annual AIDS Walk to raise money for AIDS Project L.A.
Ever since I can remember I’ve always been aware of the disease… I was born in San Francisco, 1983—when the world was just beginning to discover AIDS—right down the street from one of the major blood banks giving infected transfusions. Although we moved to Los Angeles when I was a year and a half, I’ve always been aware of AIDS: co-workers, friends and even a relative of my family have the virus or have died from it. So when I heard AIDS Walk announcements at my school, and people at LA Youth talking about it, I decided to join. I told my father – who had just received a letter from a colleague revealing that he had the virus—and he said that he’d walk with me and a team from his work at USC.

There were so many walkers, the street was filled with noise and excitement
So many walkers had gathered, clogging the sidewalks with their cars, that we had to park on Western, a whole mile away from the starting point at Paramount Studios. Hundreds of sign-in booths lined the parking lots, and with the loudness and excitement all around us, my dad and I were completely confused. Searching the lots for the team of USC students we were supposed to be walking with, I had to grab my dad’s free T-shirt so I wouldn’t get separated in the crowd stuffed into all of Paramount’s parking lots. Teens with boxes threaded their way through the huge clumps of people, offering free bananas, water and yogurt cups.
The P.A. system was thundering words of encouragement we could only understand shreds of: “hey folks, this boy has brought in $2,000, what a beautiful day…” Not many people paid attention—until they yelled “Madonna!” That drew everyone to the stage like a magnet. I heard rumors that Angelyne was going to join us, but alas, she was a no-show.

There were walkers of every color and appearance
After Madonna gave her little speech, we moved ever-so-slowly out of the lot. Once we got onto the street, the crowd became a flood: as far as I could see on the hill ahead and as far as I could tell behind, there were people—walkers of every color and appearance. Most of these seemed to be families: children and adults holding hands and laughing, along with young couples and elderly people.
Although I wanted to walk faster and my dad wanted me to slow down, we talked a lot. Mentioning the letter he had received from his colleague, my dad wondered out loud, “Sarah, what would you do if someone you’d known for years had AIDS? What would you say?” I had mused about that myself—what would I do if a friend or classmate of mine had the disease? I couldn’t think of anything good to say except, “I guess I would treat the person as I always had, maybe give her a hug and say, ‘I have no idea what you must be feeling, but I’m here for you,’ and then try not to dwell on it.” My dad nodded, replying, “Yeah, I’ll keep up our relationship. I’ll go out and golf with him often.” And I remembered what my mom says – the worst thing about AIDS is the person feeling isolated and alone.
We made our way past the trendy Melrose boutiques to the Hebrew and Arabic storefronts at Fairfax, past apartments and a country club, and back to Paramount Studios. TV crews flocked at each refreshment stop along the way, getting clips to show something good happening in L.A. on the nightly news. Swing bands and 92.3 The Beat boomed out songs and gave away shirts and stickers. But the best music came from a couple of guys on the steps of their apartment, who’d carted out their guitars and drums to entertain the mass of walkers.

Funky people cheered us on
Looking like a cross between an alien and a gnome, a creature with big googly eyes, ratty yarn for hair and a funky hat shook hands and clapped for us. He/she/it was accompanied by a lady looking like she had rummaged through thrift-stores to put together a patchwork princess fairy-tale outfit. There were other cheerers looking like they came from Mardi Gras, and still more in plain AIDS Walk T-shirts assuring us, “Just one more mile to go!” When we did finish that incredibly long last mile, we were congratulated by more people, led by a humungous drag queen in an electric-blue bikini dress, smiling and clapping. I got the feeling that he could be a businessman by weekday who just wanted to help out and join the fun.
We learned the Walk had raised $2.5 million to fund APLA in their “fight against AIDS by helping people living with the disease.” The money pays for food, counseling, medical referrals and other support systems for AIDS patients, and prevents the disease’s spread with education and protection programs.
What everyone had done in this walk reminded me of the light-post banners proclaiming “L.A. Together, we’re the best.” Usually, I’d consider that just another meaningless, corny slogan, but the AIDS Walk actually proved it, showing some of the things I love about Los Angeles. There are enough silly stereotypes of silicone-breasted wannabes, or violent gangbangers—but I’d want to show the world this diverse collection of generous, everyday people working together for a great cause.

To find out more about the next AIDS Walk, call (213) 466-9255. To contact AIDS Project Los Angeles (APLA), call (323) 993-1600.”