The quilt toured the country. Where is it now and are photos available under the name of each person?
They are trying to figure out how to preserve it. After all these years the panels are starting to age, especially since there was no consistency with fabric or materials parts are in worse shape than others.
I helped with the display of it at Stony Brook University in the early 90's, I felt very honored and moved to be handling those panels.
It's also in a million pieces -- for the last decade or so, they've been loaning out panels that hang in libraries and churches. Also, during that "dead time" when there were all sorts of legal issues being resolved, it seems many cities kept panels made locally in their own towns.
I don't think we'll ever see the whole thing in one place again.
And remember, only a small percentage of those who died f AIDS got quilts...
A boy who was a friend, Scott, gave me mono in HS, from smoking pot, not kissing. He was cute and I was cute and this boy named Bruce was cute, and we all wore the same striped oxford cloth and hung out in front of school smoking until it got cold out.
Bruce turned mean, I found a girlfriend (HAHAHA), and I didn't see Scott again until I ran into him at the Club Baths ten years later. I brought him home and he fucked me a couple of times, and he was the best sex of my life. It was a combo of how much I already liked him and how his cock fit inside me better than any other cock I'd taken in.
We saw each other for awhile, and I thought about asking him to move in with me when my roommate moved in May. But he was still very closetized: I couldn't tell anyone he was gay, or that we were having sex. I was still friends with a lot of our mutual friends, so this was difficult. I left NY when my roommate did, and Scott never moved in with me.
The next time I saw him was another ten years later. He was a quilt panel I happened to notice because his was stitched to the bottom of someone famous' quilt.
How many times I've wished over the years I'd asked him to move in with me in Greenwich Village.
Thank you for your post, R3. Wishing you much happiness.
Thanks R4. It's my deepest regret in life, not asking him to move in. It might've been a complete disaster, in ways I can't even imagine, but I wish I had at least *asked* him.
I saw the quilt in Washington DC back in the early 90s and god, it just tore my heart out. People were sobbing uncontrollably and needless to say it was extremely emotional to be there. As I was looking at the birth and death dates on the individual quilt panels, I was struck by how young so many of these men were - it's hard to really describe how sad and upset that made me.
It's in a warehouse in Atlanta. I always thought the whole idea was fucked. Queers die and the survivors sew a fucking quilt. Burn it.
It is lovingly and reverently cared for by a small team in Atlanta (some of whom have been with it since its inception in SF) that I had the opportunity to volunteer with for a week. The new warehouse was provided by Tyler Perry's production company when they purchased the Quilt's original Atlanta home. The AQ team still send panels out for displays and fields the weekly phone calls searching for the panel of a friend or loved one. An interesting fact is that the average panel creator is as now as likely to be a black grandmother as the friends or family of a GWM - a sign of the inexorable spread of the disease.
A few years back the curators announced that since there had been so many panels contributed, it was impossible to display the entire quilt in one place anymore. Even the Mall in Washington would not be big enough. So they only send it out in pieces now.
This from an article about the 25th Anniversary display in Washington this past summer:
[quote] Because of its size — put together, the whole quilt would stretch more than 50 miles — it's being displayed in pieces all over the city.
I saw it in 93.
A friend of mine had died in 91... his family was supposed to have made a quilt patch and submitted it, but when I got there and went to the place where you could look up panels by name... he wasn't listed.
I was kind of upset about that. If I had known his family would drop the ball, I would have picked it up.
In spite of that, it was a moving and overwhelming experience. I walked the entire thing. All day. It about ground me to dust, emotionally. I went back to my hotel room and cried my eyes out. I lost it a few times at the quilt itself.
Over the next few years, I lost several more friends, co-workers, and acquaintances.
It's been years since I've lost someone I know to AIDS. But every year I meet and know more and more people who are living with it, many for decades.