This young woman walked into an annual memorial service for those who have died of AIDS — and after she spoke ever so briefly, there was hardly a dry eye among those seated in the chapel of Immanuel Baptist Church.
Jermita Kimbrough just turned 27. She was born to an AIDS-infected mother, who passed the virus on to Jermita’s twin brother, Jermaine, but not to her. Both her parents died of AIDS years ago. Jermaine died at age 10.
Her family had been helped by New Haven’s AIDS Interfaith Network. The Network’s founder and president, Elsie Cofield (pictured), had not seen Jermita for about 15 years until she walked into the agency last week saying she’d like to volunteer. In 20 years of covering Cofield’s AIDS work in the community, this reporter had never seen her cry — until Wednesday’s service. Cofield said she was overwhelmed remembering what the family had gone through. “They wouldn’t let that boy into school,” she said, still furious at former schools Superintendent John Dow’s refusal to let HIV-positive children enroll. A court decision forced him to rescind that ban. Click here to hear more on her response to seeing Jermita Kimbrough.
Kimbrough thanked everyone for their support. In an interview after the service, she said, “I have family members still living with the disease, and people I know who have passed away from the disease. It’s just heartbreaking.” Click here to listen to her describe her hopes of being able to help others, and of being able to confront her own loss.
According to the State Department of Public Health, from 1980 through the present, 2,538 New Haveners have died of AIDS. 57.4 percent are African American, in a city where black people represent 37 percent of the population, according to U.S. Census data.
During the service, attended by about 50 people, many longtime survivors spoke, every one mentioning how they had come this far only with God’s help. A chorus of “amen“s followed each testimonial. This was the 18th annual memorial service sponsored by AIDS Interfaith.
Lynda Wilson (pictured left front, in line for lunch after the service) was one of Cofield’s main collaborators in the 1980s, in the early days of the pandemic. Together they counted 600 members of the community — almost all African American — who died of AIDS, before they stopped counting. Despite the fact that treatment has extended the lives of those with HIV/AIDS, people are still dying. Several speakers mentioned loved ones who had passed away in the last month.
Wilson thanked Mrs. Cofield and others for their support, saying she wouldn’t be alive today without it. But she added, “I am truly disturbed because the sanctuary should be full.” Click here to hear her thoughts on the need for people to continue to come together to fight the “stigma and ignorance” surrounding HIV/AIDS.
Another speaker was Henry Bethea, who has been HIV-positive for eight years. He said, “God won’t put nothing on me more than I can bear.” His statement that, “It [AIDS] can happen to any one of us,” elicited “Amen!” pouring forth from many throats. The speakers were followed by the lighting of candles to commemorate the dead.
Paying it forward bears fruit. It always does. More should do it.