In Memory Of - My Hero...

(You've probably noticed, when I write my blog entries I choose music which fills me with the emotion of that day's topic. I sometimes share them on the page for you to play while reading. When this one came on today, I knew it was the perfect background for this story.)

Twenty years ago, a friend handed me a newspaper article from the Wall Street Journal. It was the story of a young man named Pedro. Well, I say young... he was actually about the same age as me, just 14 months younger. I still have a photocopy of that article because it changed my life. Actually, I have it here next to me now.

You see, Pedro was my inspiration during those early days of dealing with HIV. He was doing on the national stage what I was doing on the local. The article opens with a story of him talking to a class of fifth- and sixth-grade students about living with HIV. Within a hundred words, the journalist briefly describes him:

"Mr. Zamora, who is trim, handsome and healthy-looking...." 

Well, if you knew me when I was twenty-one, those three adjectives could have easily described me. I was drawn in.

The article goes on....

"As this morning unfolds, his back-and-forth with the schoolchildren reaches a level of explicitness - as much in their questions as his answers - that might shock many adults. Yet no one here is shocked - except when they hear that the teenager talking to them is infected with the HIV virus, which causes AIDS."

Whoa. This guy was leading the pack. He was THE HIV-positive youth educator. I may have been speaking to schools in the Portland area or local publications about my life with HIV but Pedro was being interviewed by the fucking Wall Street Journal! I wanted to follow his lead... and, at the same time, I didn't want to. When I was introduced to him through this article, I was still newly-diagnosed. I think I'd just told my family. Honestly, I was still a mess. And being a bit of an introvert, I just don't think I would've ever been able to handle his level of visibility. But knowing there was someone like me on the other side of the country doing the same work I was doing in a bigger way, gave me strength. Pushed me further. Provided the path for me to follow.

At that moment, I made it my goal to meet Pedro. But how? There was no internet back then. No Google. And definitely no Facebook. We did things old-school. The article mentioned the organization he volunteered for - the Body Positive Resource Center in Miami.

So I picked up the phone and dialed. No, I didn't call Body Positive first. How could I? It's not like I had a Miami Yellow Pages lying around. So I did what we all did back then... dialed 411 to get the agency's phone number. Then I called Body Positive... and I got an answering machine... so I left a lengthy message about who I was and why it was so important for me to meet this inspiration... this guy who would, in many ways, become a hero in my life.

I didn't get a phone call after I left that message. But I was determined. So I wrote a letter. Wrote. By hand. Because I didn't have a typewriter. And I think I included a photo because I figured if I put a face to the name it would make it more personal and might increase my chances of receiving a reply.

A few weeks later, a letter arrived. And it wasn't the photo that led to the reply. Pedro wrote back because, like me, he felt a little more strength in knowing there was someone like him on the other side of country.

 

I wrote back. But he didn't.

He called instead.

We talked for nearly two hours - I swear, that call must have cost him $25. He shared his experience as a public speaker. I shared mine. He shared his story about finding out his HIV-positive status. I shared mine. We talked about family. Dating. Being young. He talked about being a minority as well. I didn't have anything to share on that one, heh!

Things had begun to get very big for Pedro. As I mentioned, he'd been introduced to the national stage and started traveling all over the country to speak to groups about HIV. He became the media poster boy for the disease - interviews on Oprah, Geraldo, Good Morning America. In 1993 he testified before Congress in an effort to get the government to evolve their education programs & funding to serve those who were most at risk:

"If you want to reach me as a young man - especially a young gay man of color - then you need to give me information in a language and vocabulary I can understand and relate to."

Then it got REALLY big. Pedro was cast on MTV's "The Real World." He went from the national stage to the international one in the blink of an eye. Chances are probably good that this is when you first heard his name.

That one phone call was the only one we ever shared. He was fast becoming a household name. He'd fallen in love and had a televised commitment ceremony with Sean. Once the show finished shooting, there were promotional tours and more interviews and of course continuing grassroots work in HIV prevention education. Plus, he was building his relationship with the love of his life. The guy was busy. And I understood.

Then, in 1994 - the year The Real World San Franicsco first aired - I heard he was coming to town to speak at UCSD (I was now living in San Diego). I'm not sure how I found out before anyone else, but I did. And I tried to get in touch with him. Or maybe, he tried to get in touch with me. Not directly. I spoke with his agent or manager or whatever he was. His manager passed the information on to him, called me back and asked me if I'd like to join Pedro onstage for a small part of his presentation.

Speaking to a group of college students was no big thing to me. By this time, it was old hat to me... I'd already done it maybe three, four hundred times in  the two-and-a-half years since I tested positive. Speaking with Pedro... that was big. But none of it was nearly as big as finally getting the opportunity to meet my hero.

Then something happened. I got another call from his manager. Everything was changing. Pedro was very ill. He wouldn't be able to speak to the students at the university. Instead, the other cast members from The Real World would be speaking about their lives - and friendship - with this amazing man. And, of course, that little block of time that had been scheduled for Pedro & I to share the stage wasn't going to happen.

But I still attended the event. I listened intently as they shared their stories. Shared his stories. As they talked about their friend who couldn't be there because he was in the hospital. I listened as so many students rose to ask questions about what it was like to be on The Real World. Or shared their feelings about finding out Pedro was in the hospital. They communicated their sense of loss. Their feelings of sympathy. They talked about themselves.

Then I - sitting somewhere in the middle of this crowded audience - raised my hand. The moderator brought the microphone over to me. And I stood and spoke.

I don't remember what I said. I might have mentioned I had HIV. I may have brought up the fact that I was introduced to Pedro before he was on MTV. I probably thanked the panel for sharing their stories too. But I did say something else. Not to the panel, but to the audience. I don't know what my exact words were. I was nervous. I was emotional. And it was over 18 years ago. But it went something like this....

"As I listen to each of you talk about your sadness - your loss - and watch you shed your tears, I want to take a moment to think about Pedro. You see, you're losing this man that you've come to know through television. But he - well, he's losing everything. His family. His friends. His life. Your loss may feel great but it pales in comparison to his."

Like I said, those weren't my exact words. And they probably weren't anywhere near as coherent or eloquent as what I've written above. But I said something like that. Because, as an HIV-positive man in the audience, I felt for everyone who was saddened - but I felt even more for Pedro, who was back in Miami - dying.


Eighteen years ago today - November 11, 1994 - Pedro Zamora left us. I remember that day... I can see myself in my living room in my apartment in Pacific Beach, watching the news on television. And my first thought was, "It's not fair. Why him and not me?"

Remember my previous blog post about Survivor's Guilt? Yeah, that was one of those moments. Pedro and I were the same age. Had been living with HIV about the same amount of time. And here I was healthy as any twenty-four year old could be. And he was.... well, he wasn't.

Photo Credit: Ken Probst

I never did get the chance to meet my hero. And I never will. But he's with me. In some way. I know he's in my heart. And he's in my tears as I write this. But, I think he's with me in some other way too. His work continues to inspire me. His strength continues to lift me up. And his legacy continues to push me further.

As the song says, "Living up to you is an enormous thing to do," but next year, I will continue that path you laid before me so many years ago. And that push you provide me will take me from San Francisco to Los Angeles.

Pedro. I ride for you.