The furtive, heartbreaking party that San Francisco forgot

It was more than a decade before the development of the lifesaving “AIDS cocktail.” At the time, a diagnosis was seen as a death sentence, and many of the men huddled around the Valencia Rose’s round tables suspected that it would be their last Thanksgiving. Some had healthy, full cheeks just months earlier; now, Kaposi’s Sarcoma lesions pocked their skin. Caretakers pushed men in their 20s on wheelchairs, and other guests leaned on canes. But in spite of the bleak occasion, the mood in the room was celebratory. Diners laughed at comedians and nodded along to a pianist’s routine.