Hey, it's Jordan. Before we get started with today's episode, I wanted to share some really exciting news. We've been nominated for a Signal Award. The Signal Awards reward podcasts that impact American culture, and our very first episode on Stonewall was nominated for Best LGBTQ Podcast Episode, and you can actually vote for us and we can win this. So I'm gonna tell you how to vote now, and there are a couple steps, but it's super easy. It'll
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So that night we went to bed, and when I woke up the next morning, the sheets were soaked, and I knew. I knew that was it and when that was one of the major symptoms when heard about its night sweats and I woke up and Joe wasn't awake yet and I was lying in sweat. I'm like, oh my god, he's got AIDS.
As a gay kid, growing up religious and in the South, I thought being gay was the worst thing I can be. Now as a journalist, I'm trying to unlearn that by seeking out our history, and what I've found are people and stories full of courage, perseverance, and love. In this episode, we'll meet Larry Colton, a man whose life was deeply
impacted by the AIDS crisis in San Francisco. Will reflect on the concept of legacy in the LGBTQ community, thinking especially about those who were lost to AIDS and what they left behind. For My Heart Podcasts, I'm Jordan and Solve, and this is.
What we loved.
As human beings. I think it's pretty normal to think about what kind of legacy we want to leave behind. For me, it's been a thought that I've obsessed over, really my whole adult life, ever since I came out, Like what am I going to leave when I die? I didn't realize it until recently, but so much of the pressure I was putting on myself was coming from something specific, my unconscious fear that I would die early
because I'm a gay man. During the AIDS crisis, HIV was the number one cause of death among young men. Sometimes I wonder about all those young people that died and what their legacies are. When it's not children or wealth that you're leaving behind, how are you remembered? My next guest, Larry Colton, was deeply impacted by the AIDS
crisis in San Francisco and that very same question. During the seventies and eighties, he was closeted at work to his family, but he found respite in the exploding San Francisco gay scene and in a partner he would soon meet there too. Joe, tell me what it was like to be gay in San Francisco in the mid to late seventies.
God, this is so You're bringing up such interesting memories that I hadn't thought about. For years. It was sort of the beginning of gay liberation and gay freedom which had come out of the sixties and the seventies, and San Francisco being the epicene of a free space, a liberal city. It was. The housing was cheap, and there was a bar called The End of which I think
quite frankly exists to this day, you know. And it was it really started at ten at night and would go till two, and it had a plastic disco floor that everybody would with lights underneath it. It's probably still there, and people would dance like crazy. Now remember that was Donna Sumbers. Who knows what was playing back then, but it was packed and it was so active, and the average age was probably mid to late twenties, you know, and everybody was free. You know. After the bar closed,
you'd hang out with your friends on the street. You know, you might go get a hamburg or do something afterwards. But it was you met a lot of people, you know, and they were all friendly. Everybody felt the sense of freedom and liberation that sort of accompanied that time. There was one other bar that still exists, probably the oldest bar in San Francisco, on the corner of Castro and a market and they they used to call the glass
Coffin because only old guys went there. But but you could but you could see in big windows open to the street. At that point, people weren't hiding, which realized that and then itself was a big change. Going to a bar that had big windows was really an acknowledgment of your life and a validation because you weren't hiding.
Oh you're saying that this was one of the first bars that was openly gay. Yes, wow, okay, god, And that was that was a really freeing feeling. You get into the bartenders. It was like and you had a you knew almost everybody there, and as it supposed to any community, you find your own right where you feel comfort and you feel.
Like you're heard.
So you found your tribe. I did absolutely tell me about the bathhouses. I want to know about what sexuality was like at this time in San Francisco.
Okay, Well, it's it's funny because somebody I was with somebody at the other night we were actually talking about this. Oh, I know, somebody was showing me grinder, you know, and I know now I'm really dating myself and I'm looking really naive but John, I had a friend come over who's single, and all of a sudden, he's on Grinder and I'm like, okay, show me this. I want to know how this works. I want know who the hell's
around me, whether I know anybody. And it was such an education, you know, and he's explaining to me, like, what's that word they use on grinder now? Like not yo, but what's up? Sup? Like what's up? I never like what? But anyway, it dates me.
Bath houses were grinder back then.
They were they were you know, it was just a sex place, right, I mean, that's what it was for. They would be given a towe when they came in. They had a locker they would just rope put their towels on and they'd start walking around. And they had private rooms, and they had public spaces, and they had saunas, and they had steam rooms. And in San Francis, the original bathos I first went to, which was in an alleyway, was really fancy. They had like a like a mini restaurant.
They had a wall, aquarium, wall, huge waterfalls. I mean, it was very fancy and people would stay all night. I mean would just stay for like a day or two. But it was very popular and just packed, and especially after the bars at two. I mean you'd have a line out the door starting between two and three, you know, in the morning.
So tell me about work. You were a businessman. What was it like working as a gay man in business in the seventies.
I was twenty four. I started looking for a job and I ended up working in an insurance company because, quite frankly, at the time, they offered eight hundred bucks a month. One of my big fears which always remained with me, was I went to work for a regional insurance brokerage firm and nobody knew I was getting. You know, I always had a woman I took to a company events, and I always felt like I would they wouldn't want
me if they found out I was gay. So I simply felt that I had a limited lifespan at that job. You really lived two separate lives. And I was moving up the ladder rather rapidly at this job, and I was all of a sudden, the receptionists rang my phone. I had an office and she said, there's somebody here to see you. And the way she said it, I think I almost had a heart attack. I said something's
not right here. And I went out and it was a guy I knew from the bars who had somehow figured out where I worked and showed up in hot pants. Oh god, and he was the biggest queen you'd ever want to meet. And I almost died. I thought, my god, my cover has just been blown. You know who saw this? What the fuck? Excuse me? What are you doing here? I just was in the area and wanted to say hi.
So that was the kind of fear you had about how one event of that nature might in fact really destroy your career.
Well, tell me how was dating going for you at this point?
Okay, So I just turned thirty at the time. I'm living in Marin County, which is across the Bay from San Francisco, and I commute to work by ferryboat. And it was just beautiful, I mean absolutely idyllic. You just couldn't ask for more beautiful. You see the San Francisco skyline. And so, you know, I read my New York Times or my San Francisco Chronicle, whatever I was reading, and
I really wasn't paying much attention. But of course, at one point I see this really handsome guy who's got reddish blonde hair, blue eyes and really bashful and really shy, and you know, on multiple days all week we keep seeing each other and clearly there was energy going back and forth. So we were getting off the ferry and we introduced each other one another and next thing you know, we are if we fall head and heel over in love. So Joe was from an Irish family, eleven in the family,
nine kids. He was having his own issues with his family because as you might imagine Irish Catholic, he like me, was not out to his family at all, Nor was I still at this point, so he was just getting started in his career. I was more established in mind. He was five years younger than I was. We just really hit it off and we spentnded spending all of our time together. But we also what was true for both of us is we really shared a passion for travel.
We kept going to Meka Notes for a number of years. We went to Europe, we went to Asia, so we really that was one thing that we really truly loved. And he was an artist, he painted, and we just were released simpatico and it was a relationships that was really meaningful.
Even though Larry and weren't out to their parents. They were still really happy. Larry was the outgoing and social one and Joe was the quiet one everyone was drawn to. They balanced each other out. A month into their relationship and Joe showed up to Larry's house with a moving truck. They hadn't talked about it, but Joe decided it was time, and Larry agreed. Their love wasn't anything fancy, but it was stable. It was them leaving each other love notes
around the house. Joe would sign each one of his with the drawing of a pig, a running joke about how messy he was. They'd straighten each other's ties before work, and then they'd take the scenic ferry route into the city each morning. Their life was perfect until it wasn't. On July third, nineteen eighty one, the New York Times ran a small article on page twenty of the newspaper titled rare cancer seen in forty one homosexuals. The cases were mostly in New York City and San Francisco, but
eight people had already died. That article created a caricature of who was being affected, gay men who had up to quote ten sexual encounters each night up to four times a week. Symptoms included purple or brown or red blotches that would show up on the skin, called capasi sarcoma. At one point, the disease was called GRID, gay related immune deficiency. It would eventually become known as AIDS. Larry, take me to the moment that you first heard about AIDS. Was it the New York Times article?
Yes, it was. Actually there was a gay newspaper called Bar, but it first appeared in the New York Times. That was in the San Francisco Chronicle. Then it very quickly got picked up by the bar, which you'd get this newspaper at the bars or in the castro and little stands. It was a free paper. First you read about GRID, and that's what it was first, called.
Gay related immune deficiency.
Correct, And it felt so distant. I mean again, we felt we were so insulated from all this. We were more monogamous. It wasn't necessarily going to hit us, but we were. We had fear. We said, okay, what is this going to mean? How is this going to play out? And we sort of watched it unfold, and it unfolded first and foremost at the bars. People started losing weight somebody would come in with a blotch on their face or on their arm. You know that that's carposi sarcoma thrush.
People would get rashes in their mouth, and you just saw people. You'd say, well, where's I remember the first one. I'm like, where's Larry? Where is he? I haven't seen it for a while. Oh, he's sick. It was like out of a classic movie. Simultaneously, you're starting to see obituary in the San Francisco Chronicle. Then you're saying the real obituaries in the bar magazine, and you realize this is really picking up steam, and it is very serious, and it was very, very scary, And again we had
false hope because we felt we were insulated. But nobody knew the incubation period. Nobody really knew what was actually causing it was a certain sexual act, you know what was behind it. Joe and I used to go to Meekonos. We went each year because we just loved it. It was beautiful, free nude beaches, it was a great food,
it was a wonderful place, wonderful respite. And our best friends Gene Dave would go with us and they were staying at a hotel and we were staying in something cheaper because we were cheap, and they said, come over to
our pool and we'll sit around the pool. And so we went and Joe and David, our friend, my best friend actually were swimming, and his partner of eight years, you know, it was not a new relationship, although I'd been an open relationship, was sitting next to be in a chaise lounge and said turned his arm over and looked and said, Larry, look at this mark I have on my arm. I knew what it was right away. I mean I'd done my research enough to know what it was. And he said, what do you think that is?
And of course I said, Gene, I have no idea, but you need to get a check when we get back, no question. Well that was the first manifestation of something that had hit Gene, and he was the first, the closest person that we'd known that was then at that point infected with AIDS. And he got back and very rapidly he developed tax tax taxio plasmos i camember when it was a brain disease where you know, he went crazy. I mean they had to institutionalize them and it just
he he died very quickly. That was the one that brought it home. That was the one where we we knew we were in the middle of an AIDS crisis and it was now affecting us, and all of a sudden, it was like the avalanche began and people kept getting sick. It was very It was very hard.
How did that change your relationship with Joe? Were you afraid to be sexual with Joe?
I think we found solace being together because we felt that we protected one another, you know, in a way, we became more insular. I would also tell you, though, that we it probably curtailed with things we did. We were scared. We were not sure if if we were exchanging body fluids. We weren't. We weren't sure what we were doing to one another, you know, and so there
was a fear factor, no question about it. One experience I would tell you about, which was really attending an assisted death for a very a very young man was an earliest wow, and he just became covered in posts zarcoma. It just covered and he couldn't swallow. It was just horrible. And he was the partner of my dear friend who lived to marin. The young guy who and these are young, healthy, gorgeous. This guy was maybe twenty five to twenty six, and he developed once our posts, he got some on his
face and then all of us. They were like red red dots, which are probably the size of anywhere from a dime to a nickel to a quarter, and they could be isolated on your little bit, any parts of your body. But in his case, they just it was almost like having the measles of the mumps. It just covered him. He was trying to go on with his life. So they'd have us over and you knew it wasn't contagious, that was not an issue we had. We got that. But you go over and you just see him covered
and you could just see his misery. And Scott, my friend, said, you know, my partner has decided that he wants to to die. He does not want to go on because he knows it's just going to get worse. And he said, will you would you agree to come over to our house and there'll be somebody there to administer the drugs and I want, I need you to to go take me for a walk, you know, so we can because I can't be in the house when this happens. So that's what we did. Then you go to work, Hi,
how is your weekend great? How are you have a good weekend? Great? You know, so you just lived a separate reality.
How many funerals did you attend?
One of a two weeks and that? So that was not a lot, honestly, you know, not a lot, not relative to what others were going through. I mean, oh yeah, I mean that was the thing. It was so horrible, but that, relatively speaking, was not bad. I mean that's how weird it got.
How are things going with Joe at this point?
So things were going well, but his parents always wanted him to go to grad school. So one day he comes home and says, you know something. He was working at an insurance company. He really wasn't going anywhere. It was fine, he said, you know, I put it in an application to go to London School of Economics for a year. And I was pissed. I'm like, excuse me, we didn't just talk about this. Where is this coming from?
He said, well, you know, I always wanted to do it, but I didn't feel what the time was right, and I really wanted When I've been accepted and I'm leaving in a week.
Oh my gosh.
I'm like, I was aghast, I was hurt. I was trying to process what is this about? And he says, like, I totally don't want to leave this relationship, but I want this experience, you know, and I'll come back a lot. So it's you know, we can still you know, it'll all work out. And I'm like, okay. I mean, if that's what you want, I have to honor that. I was hurt, but I'm like okay. But within six months he called me and said, I can't do this anymore. I miss you. I'm unhappy. This really isn't for me.
I want to come home. So he did. He came home, he dropped out, came back to the Bay Area. Then well, one thing, two things happened. Number One, all of a sudden, he gained a huge amount of weight, and it was like it didn't make any sense. It was not like normal weight. It was like it like he looked bloated. And he I remember him saying to me. We went to a restaurant and he said, do you think I'm sick? I said, Joe, don't be ridiculous. How could you be sick?
You know, we've been monogamous that d duh. I remember thinking, well, I don't think so. But I wasn't one hundred percent sure of what I was saying. But I think we both dismissed it, at least I did so. Fast forward to my birthday. We decided to go to Paris for my birthday. This is when all things really started, the shit really started to hit the fan. We decided we'd go with two of our best lesbian friends, and we were just very close and he picked me up and
I looked at him and he looked sick. He looked ill. I said, what's wrong? He said, I don't feel well. I'm like, maybe we shouldn't go. He said, no, I'll be fine, it'll pass, but I'm just not really feeling well. So we got on the plane and we went to Paris. We checked in the hotel in Paris. So that night we went to bed and when I woke up the
next morning, the sheets were soaked and I knew. I knew as that was it and when that was one of the major symptoms when heard about its night sweats And I woke up and Joe wasn't awake yet, and I was lying in sweat and I'm like, oh my god, he's got AIDS. And so he woke up and he was shivering, and he said, you know, I wanted to take a bath. So he said, I'm just let me
take a bath. I'll feel much better. So he did, and I left and I walked from the hotel to Luxembourg Gardens, which is all there forget sat down early in the morning, probably eight or nine, and I said that. I said, you know something, Joe has aids. First of all, what are we going to do? Do we go home now immediately? How are we going to tell his parents? What's how long does he have? What does this new world look like? It was like, all of a sudden, the world had turned upside down. I had no idea
how we were going to navigate it. And then it took me like five minutes to think, hold it, what about me? I'm probably going to die too, you know. And it was sort of like this double shock. Then I remember thinking, don't worry about yourself. Let's deal with the first problem at hand. Let's get him home. So Joe he called his dad and said, this is this is what's happening. I'm not feeling well. He still didn't know or admit that he had AIDS. He called his dad.
He said, Dad said come home right away. He was in New York, Okay. So we drove. We went to the airport, we turned around, we went back to the we went gotten a flight to New York. Joe was ill all the way home in that flight, just barely, I mean, no energy. He was what was happening? He was getting pneumonia you know which, which, of course we didn't know, but it was bad. And we got off the airport and his dad was in the it was in the waiting room. He said, I'll take it from here,
and he took Joe. That's how Joe's dad found out he had AIDS and he was gay?
And how did he get HIV? Was it sort of dormant all these years?
Of course I had to ultimately ask him how could this be? Well, what had happened is when he went to London School of Economics, he ran into a friend of ours, very handsome young man, gay man, who was also at the London School of Economics. Of course they slept together. The guy was turns out how to aid and died almost right after that. But that is where we both were convinced that was the time because none
of us, we were being honest with one another. We hadn't done anything else for years, and this guy virtually turned around and died, so we assume that's where he got it. And so it changed. It changed our world. It changed our world overnight, you know. So Joe came back with his dad and he said, my parents know everything now, you know, and they want me to come live with them. And of course they lived about ten blocks from me, so I knew their house. I mean
I knew, I knew of it. I had not been in it, so really I would get up in the morning, go spend an hour or two with him early, go to work, come home, go to be with him, and then go back to my own house. And that became our life.
Now.
Going back for a second though, when I got back, I thought, I've got to get tested. I need to get tested because this is my second part of my journey. And I got tested and I was negative. Wow, and we cried. You know, It's like he was so happy for me. It just it was a moment of like this, how can this be? And you know, you realize you're going to live and your love is going to die and you're on this journey. It just was surreal, you know.
Larry had just learned that his partner Joe, had AIDS and that he did not. He tested negative for HIV as Joe, whose illness began to progress. Larry realized that he would need the support of everyone around him, and to obtain that, he would have to reveal that he was a gay man. Like many during this period, AIDS and its urgency forced Larry out of the closet.
As soon as that happened, I got in the car. I went to my mom's house, who also lived in Marin County, five blocks from me. My dad had died when many years earlier, and I sat down with her in the garden and said, Mom, look at it, in case you didn't know it, I'm gay. I have a partner of who I've been with a long time. You know him, You've seen him many times. He's got AIDS and he's dying. And she said, I am here for you.
What do you need from me? But on Monday I realized I couldn't live a dual life at work anymore. So I went to the gentleman who owned the business. At that point, I was senior vice president. I was like maybe third or fourth in command. And I went in and I sat down with him in this beautiful office over looking at San Francisco. I said, Dick, I'm gay. I have a partner. He's dying and I expect your support. Do you have any questions? He looked he was in shock,
but I was. I was so empowered at that point it didn't matter. I owned it, and everything shifted. Everything shifted. I mean, my time was spent with Joe trying to be with him.
And you're kind of going through forgiveness at the same time, right forgiving you for cheating on you.
No that you know something. I never I'm one of these people that like, you know something. We're human beings, you know, cheating It's like I could cheat, you know. It's like, you make a choice about how you want to live your life. Somebody cheats, gives a shit. I mean, honestly, it never really to me was an issue. I felt sad that that had been the experience and that had happened, but I never blamed him for it. I'm like, you know, it's like, that's just chances of life, you know. I mean,
I'll never understand intimacy and sexuality with morality. I mean, what's it all mean anyway? You know? I mean, you know, if you're a good human, you do it. You just live your life in a moral way. So that didn't bug me. A year after he got sick, he said, I want to go on a trip to Asia. And we're sitting at the doctor's office. I'm like, are you fucking crazy? Look at you. At that point, he was getting very thin. He was having a hard time metabolizing food,
so he couldn't eat much. I mean, he was declining. He said, Larry, if I die there, I'll die happy. And I'm like, and I look at the doctor. He said, Larry, if he wants to go, he goes. So I plan this trip. I'm like, okay, this is going to be the last trip. We were going to Bali. You know. I tried to make it as seamless as possible. And it was a beautiful trip. We went with the two ladies we'd gone with the Paris so it was almost full circle and I have beautiful pictures of that time.
But he was in decline. He had a hard time eating. But we had chances to talk about life and death, and have those conversations that needed to be had. He did say a couple of times, what do you think happens after you die? But I asked him, you're afraid to die? Said no, I mean he wasn't afraid, And so it was a beautiful trip. Hard trip, but a beautiful trip.
At the end.
I mean, Joe, his illness progressed to where he couldn't eat at all. He had a pick line and he was fed intravenously, you know, so he could no longer eat for months on ends. It was just they took him up to a machine and he would give him nourishment, and he was getting thinner and thinner. And this was the guy who was probably one sixty five to one seventy down to maybe one ten. You know, it's like he was a skeleton.
Larry, what was that like for you to witness that we.
Were in and out of the hospital Mount Sign of Hospital so many times, you know that he kept getting you know, and he got to be put in the hospital and he'd be there five days, ten days. I started living in my sweatpants at the hospital. And Joe was one of those people where he was always optimistic and always up and always smiling, and despite everything, everybody
loved him at that place. They they when he came back, I mean to the point where they asked him if he'd be on the front of their magazine, you know, to show their aids for it off, and he'd looked like a skeleton. I'm like, he said, sure, I'll do it, and I had that picture to this day. Joe, he would send me notes, you know, he always did funny things just to bring my spirits up, to keep me going, always have put on a good face. And you looked
how his life was deteriorating. So you learn, you become intimate in a totally different way. All the pretests, all the bullshit just falls away. And that's raw love, you know, and that's what we all seek, right, you know, to have a pure love, one not encumbered by ego or selfishness. It's just it's very It was very transformative for me.
It sounds like your love in a way kind of deepened during this time.
Oh it did it? Did it? Did it? Absolutely did?
Larry, If you don't mind, would you take me to that moment where you like cove of Joe.
It was clear clearly we were getting to the end, Joe was at home in his bedroom and had he had a view out of Marin County in the water was quite beautiful, and his parents had decided to go away on a mini vacation, but nobody felt it was imminent, so they left and I went over after they left because it allowed us more freedom and more intimacy and less intrusion. And he sort of said, you know, I think it's time, you know, and and I thought, wow,
I mean, I don't know. I was just in the moment, and I thought, you know, I think it is time. And then he went blind all of a sudden, he said, I can't see anymore, just like that. It was like instantaneous, and you're sort of speechless. You know, You're just, you know, in so many ways, you're just a witness. All you really are or can be, is a witness with unconditional love, you know. And I'm so I held his hand on that I'm here, and he was sort of sat up.
Then he laid down and I laid down next to him, and about two hours later he passed away. It felt like love. Uh, and uh, it was just so huge. It felt like the spirit had left the room. That the battle was over, and what I realized was he had waited for his parents to leave so I could be with him at the end.
Wow.
I think that was his greatest That was the greatest gift really to allow me that last moment.
A few years after Joe passed away, Larry was struck by the question how do I preserve his legacy? In San Francisco. An opportunity arose in the mid nineties to create a national memorial for the lies loss to AIDS. It would be called the AIDS Memorial Grove and would be a ten acre plot located in San Francisco's famous Golden Gate Park. At the heart of the grove would be a terrace where thousands of names of people lost to AIDS would be chiseled into the ground in the shape of a spiral.
It took me two years degree past Joe. I couldn't, you know, I couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't date. I couldn't. I couldn't even see it. I just couldn't see it. I didn't have any desire, so I really really went into I worked and I just did not go out. And then uh, I became an activist, you know, I mean, what Joe did for me is he ignited something because I was out and now I was really out and
what my goal was to fight AIDS. I joined the board of the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, and that was really you know, it was that was when people were dying left and right. People would go on the board and die, you know, a year later, you know. So it was a very It was an epicenter of AIDS
at the time. But what really was my favorite, what really tells it ties us all together, is I heard about that in Golden Gate Park they were going to they were going to think of building a grove called the A's Memorial Grove to memorialize those who had died
of AIDS. And that really struck me because I thought to myself, be a permanent place of remembrance, and also it's a place of regeneration and growth, because they were taking a grove that had gone to disrepair years ago and was overgrown, that we're going to clean it out and rebuild it and have some kind of a memorial. So I jumped into that, helped build a grove we have. Joe's name was a first name put in the grove and It's something that we go back to occasionally just
to remember. And so that was really meaningful.
How do you remember Joe?
Larry?
Oh Lord? I keep Joe alive through a lot of stuff in my house, the stuff we had together. You know, his sister's older sister and I are still dear friends. We connect on a regular basis. His parents have since died. I have pictures that I now have my laptop that come up occasionally. I mean, I have remembrances. So he's just honored in stories like this. Why do I do this? Why am I doing this with you? I'm honoring him.
You know, he lives on and he's he's his his courage gave me courage, which has changed a lot of lies. So his his legacy was passed on in my acts, and that will be my legacy as well. So they're really combined.
But We Loved is hosted by me Jordan Gonsolves. New episodes drop every Wednesday. If you want to write in to tell your story, email us at but We Loved at gmail dot com, or send us a message on Instagram or TikTok at but We Loved. We are a production of the Outspoken podcast Network and iHeart podcasts, but We Loved was originally developed with Pushkin Industries. Our producers Areshena Ozaki, Michael June, Emily Meronoff, and Joey patt Our.
Executive producers are Me and Maya Howard. Original music by Steve Bone special thanks to Jay Bronson and Roquel Willis. If you loved this episode, leave us a rating and follow us on Apple Podcasts and Spotify, and thank you for listening. I'll see you next week.