Add to ORKGIn lieu of an abstract, below is the essay\u27s first paragraph. The moss crumbles under my nails as I scrape away the overgrowth obscuring my grandfather\u27s name. It flakes away into powder; while a light breeze scatters the remnants over the broken lamb marking my youngest brother\u27s grave. I never knew Michael. He survived only days in the hospital unable to breathe correctly. Ironically, beside him is Bill, another brother undone by an ailing chest: pneumonia compounded with HIV/AIDS, or is it vice versa? Anyway, that was 1985 and HIV was still the gay man\u27s disease and now, seven years later, not much has really changed. Back in 1967, Bill introduced me to the music that would later define the “summer of love.” He changed my li...