A labor of love and remembrance for East Bay AIDS Quilt seamstress
SAN LEANDRO (CBS SF) -- Inside an East Bay warehouse to the beat of disco music, and the clank of a sewing machine, Gert McMullin is hard at work. She's sewing a fabric edge onto a brightly colored piece of fabric.
"I edge them, I grommet them," she explained as the fabric flew through her vintage machine.
She is working on a panel, that will add another name and another story to a national treasure known as the AIDS Quilt.
3000 of these panels have already been set aside for a huge display this weekend in Golden Gate Park, the largest ever in San Francisco
Each panel is handled with the upmost care and respect. It's a labor of love and remembrance.
"I do it because all my friends are dead," said Gert.
To understand her response, it's important to remember some recent history.
In the 1980s, half the gay men in San Francisco were infected with HIV, the virus that causes AIDS.
Most died, including many of Gert's friends. There was no vaccine, no cure, and no effective treatment. The Federal Government under the Reagan Administration did not mount an aggressive response against the disease.
"I was angry. I'm still angry," added Gert
In 1987, Gert heard about a project which was more of a protest. It was dreamed up by AIDS activist Cleve Jones. They were going to the nation's capital to mount a demonstration.
"It was a bunch of pissed off people going to Washington D.C. We had no idea what we were doing," Gert said.
But what they did have was a quilt of panels, woven with the names of those who had died from AIDS.
They wanted to unfurl it in front of the White House.
Each panel was by design to be 3 feet by 6 feet or roughly the size of a grave
"The reason for doing that was we were laying down our dead in front of the government to embarrass them to do something," Gert said. "We thought we'd go there and save the world. And that would be that."
But instead of a single act of protest, the quilt took on a life of its own.
The public response was overwhelming.
"They were clamoring for it," Gert said.
In San Francisco, the quilt was packed up and brought by truck on a journey across America. There were 20 stops along the way, including St. Louis, Houston and rural Louisiana.
Along the way, families, friends, and lovers made quilt panels to honor and celebrate their loved ones and donated them to the project.
The entire AIDS quilt is now stored in San Leandro.
The project contains more than 50,000 panels, dedicated to more than 100,000 people who died from AIDS
It weighs more than 54 tons.
Each panel is personally marked by Gert with a special identifying number.
She told me she gets at least one panel a week, as well as visitors.
Walking through the warehouse there are 1000s of panels carefully stacked on rows and rows of shelving, it's hard not to be moved.
Each panel represents a real person. Gert told me there are days she goes into the stacks and just cries.
"People don't want to talk about death and all the grief," Gert said. "We welcome it here. I'm not afraid of people crying. You want to cry? A lot of people want to stop you from crying. I'm just 'Go ahead, I'm here if you need me.'"
Among the quilts, is a very special panel. it was donated in 1987 from an anonymous source. On a brown background, 3 simple words that say, "The Last One".
Gert has been holding onto it for 35 years waiting for the last infection and the last death.
"We want to be shut down and that's what we want to do. We want to sew it in and be done with it," Gert said.
She knows all too well that won't happen anytime soon.
Roughly 1.5 million individuals are infected with HIV every year.
Since the start of the AIDS pandemic, about 80 million people have been infected and roughly half have died.
The AIDS Quilt is under the stewardship of National AIDS Memorial.
