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By John R. Killacky
IN 1981, I was with friends celebrating the Fourth of July weekend at New York’s Fire Island Pines gay enclave when life changed. Buried on page A20 of The New York Times (July 3,1981) was a report about a new condition: “Rare Cancer Seen in 41 Homosexuals.” Doctors in New York and San Francisco…

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By Aila Boyd

I’m only 25, but I’ve been a high school theater and chorus teacher, a general assignment reporter, a college English instructor, and an editor of a small weekly newspaper. Luckily I have done quite well in both arenas. Perhaps that’s because I have a good work ethic and am resourceful.

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By Brad Graber

Am I having trouble breathing? Is that cough an allergy or something more serious? These are the thoughts racing through my mind as I socially distance from everyone except my husband, Jeff. Am I afraid of coronavirus? You bet.

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By Julia Wendell

His name was Stefan. No one called him my older brother’s lover. John hadn’t come out yet, even to me. The two men could have just been friends. I was twenty. It was 1977. I hadn’t been in love yet, but I had been wanted.

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