ABSTRACT
The impetus to write Starry, Starry Night; occurred quite by accident. In the early days of May 1995 we were vacationing in Provincetown, an annual trek timed to beat the on-season rate changes after Memorial Day. The AIDS Vigil , a walk and memorial service to commemorate community members who had been lost to AIDS, had occurred only a few days earlier. Newspapers described the event in detail; townsfolk were buzzing about the impact of the Vigil and the number of people who had participated. A casual inquiry with a shopkeeper, a gay man who had lived with his partner in Provincetown for twenty-two years, turned quickly into a riveting, hour-long exchange as he recounted his experience of "losing an entire generation" of friends to AIDS and seeing yet another generation of HIVpositive men come to Provincetown, attracted by the support services the community provides. The numbers alone were staggering: 385 people in a community of roughly 3,000 had been lost to AIDS.
