SASHA ROGELBERG | STAFF WRITER
W hen Heshie Zinman visited his buddies — died of pneumonia.

HIV/AIDS patients in Pennsylvania Hospital
Th ough HIV can be transmitted through any unpro-
— in the mid-1980s, delivering their food tected sexual encounter or through intravenous drug
trays or just saying hi, he would hold his breath, sneak- use, the disease’s initial proximity to gay men gave it its
ing out of the room into the hall or bathroom to suck early monikers of the “gay cancer” and “Gay-Related
in a gulp of air.

Immune Defi ciency,” stigmatizing gay men and the
Zinman, now 71, is on the Governor’s Pennsylvania queer community who supported them.

Commission for LGBT Aff airs, advocating for the
Th ough the American Jewish community now
greater inclusion and cultural competency to sup- prides itself on its support of the LGBT community,
port older LGBT people, and the co-chair of pRiSm, with the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia
Congregation Rodeph Shalom’s LGBT affi nity and Philadelphia-based J. Proud Consortium holding
group. He’s the co-founder of the AIDS Library of events for June’s Pride Month, that allyship was not
Philadelphia, now the Critical Path Learning Center at always guaranteed. As the larger Jewish community
Philadelphia FIGHT.

— as well as most religious institutions — turned their
An activist during the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s, backs on gay people in the 1980s, the Jewish LGBT
Zinman witnessed the deaths of loved ones and the community took the responsibility of supporting each
complacency of the government to address the epi- other into their own hands. Th e road to wide accep-
demic. Aft er more than 1 million
reported COVID deaths in the United
States in 2022, the toll of one public
health crisis in the wake of another one
still impacts Zinman.

“Th e ’80s and the ’90s were fi lled
with trauma and fear. For me, the
COVID pandemic brought back a lot
of issues around death and dying,”
Zinman said. “And although com-
pletely diff erent, people losing people
every day, the losses of what it meant
to the family, what it meant to society,
what it meant to the arts, what it meant
to culture, I had lots of rushes of the
AIDS epidemic.”
From 1981 to 1990, there were
100,777 deaths of those diagnosed
with AIDS reported to the Centers
for Disease Control and Prevention.

Th e disease fi rst made headlines in the
U.S. in 1981, when fi ve healthy, young
Beth Ahavah founder Jerry Silverman (left) and other Beth Ahavah
members in front of their Letitia Street location in 2007
gay men in Los Angeles suddenly
16 JUNE 23, 2022 | JEWISHEXPONENT.COM
tance in larger Jewish institutions took decades.

Zinman came out in 1979, and following a divorce
and a layoff from his job at an architectural design fi rm
in 1984, he found himself, like many other gay men,
fi nding community at a gay bar in Philadelphia.

“It was at that point that I’m now bartending, that
people started getting sick and started having these
horrible experiences of death and dying and being
tossed out of their apartments,” Zinman said.

Th e bar, per Zinman’s insistence, transformed from
a place for some gay men to escape news of the epi-
demic to a place of community support. It was the hub
of fundraisers and workshops on safer sex. Zinman
became a member of the Philadelphia AIDS Task
Force and was diagnosed with HIV in 1989, years aft er
he began his eff orts to support friends and community
members living with the disease.

“My whole thinking was looking at the
environment — the fear, the discrimina-
tion, deaths and the dying — I fi gured this
could be me, and so I just was petrifi ed,”
he said. “My fear and my anguish and my
grief just kind of catapulted me into my
AIDS activism. Every time I got anxious, I
went to another meeting. I started another
program.” Outside of LGBT nightlife, support for
queer people was sparse.

In the late 1970s, hepatitis B, another
sexually transmitted disease, was of
greater concern to the gay community,
said David Fair, a Philadelphia-based
LGBT and AIDS activist. Th ough anxiety
of the disease prompted the beginning of
LGBT-oriented health care such as the
Lavender Health collective, it also fueled
the fl ames of gay stigma and homophobia.

“Th ere were a lot of scare tactics used in
those years. People were afraid you could
catch it from a toilet seat, or you could
scyther5 / iStock / Getty Images Plus
LGBT Acceptance
Swells, But Queer Jews
Remember Pain of
AIDS Crisis
Photo from the Jewish Exponent archives
feature story



Courtesy of Heshie Zinman
Exponent was not driven by prejudice, who had AIDS, who was a member of Beth Ahavah,
Hostein believes; the Jewish com- came to me and said, ‘I want my body prepared in the
munity didn’t prioritize LGBT issues traditional Jewish way. I want it prepared by people
during that time.

who treated me with absolute respect and acceptance
“While clearly there was bias in life,’” Holtzman said.

against gays in the Jewish — and
In the mid-1990s, however, the landscape began to
general — community, I don’t change for LGBT Jews. As medical professionals devel-
remember much discussion about oped more eff ective treatment options for those living
LGBTQ issues at the Exponent ... with HIV, the diagnosis was no longer a death sentence
I just don’t think it was on people’s for those who had the resources. Stigma around the
radars the way it is today,” Hostein disease decreased.

said. In 1990, Beth Ahavah became affi liated with the
Th e lack of LGBT-inclusive Union of American Hebrew Congregations, part of the
Jewish spaces prompted Jerry Reform movement, to gain more resources. In 2007, it
Silverman to start a congregation became affi liated with Rodeph Shalom.

of LGBT members.

Th e Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia
Heshie Zinman (standing, left) at the AIDS Information Network
Philadelphia (previously the AIDS Library of Philadelphia) in 1998
Inspired by Congregation Beit approached Zinman and several queer community
Simchat Torah in New York and members in 2010 or 2011, hoping to make chances to
catch it by being in the vicinity of an aff ected person,” Beth Chayim Chadashim in Los Angeles, Silverman become more inclusive.

he said. “And that led to all sorts of legal eff orts to founded Beth Ahavah in 1975, convening a small
“Th e Federation wanted to be supportive of LGBT
punish people who had AIDS.”
group of like-minded gay Jews in his living room.

people ... It’s a little late, but better late than never,”
Mandatory HIV testing strained patient-physician
“Back then, people were in the closet, and you were Zinman said.

relationships and further stigmatized those living looking to meet with other people, looking for a part-
In 2015, Beth Ahavah merged with Rodeph Shalom,
with HIV.

ner or just to hang out with people that shared your whose visible rainbow mezuzah in their sanctuary
Stigma permeated into many religious spaces as well. Jewish values,” Silverman said. “You won’t necessarily pays homage to the LGBT congregation.

Th e greater Jewish community in Philadelphia and the fi nd them in another synagogue because most people
“It was kind of a shock,” Silverman said. “We knew
U.S. was not widely welcoming to LGBT people, said were so closeted at the time.”
it was the right thing, but it still hurt a lot.”
queer Rabbi Linda Holtzman. Interpretations of Jewish
Silverman put advertisements for Beth Ahavah
By then, the Supreme Court had legalized gay mar-
in the Philadelphia Gayzette. Th e 10 people who riage. Beth Ahavah members left to join synagogues
texts were more conservative in the 1970s and ’80s.

Close memories of the Holocaust instilled an anxiety showed up to Silverman’s house declared themselves they felt more spiritually connected to, as many voiced
around Jewish futurity, prompting prejudice toward the founders of the group.

support for LGBT Jews. pRiSm and Zinman remain
Less than a decade aft er its founding, Beth Ahavah active at the synagogue.

many queer couples who chose not to have children or
have “traditional” family structures. When Holtzman was deeply touched by the AIDS crisis. Several mem-
Th e merger represented increased acceptance of
came out, her parents were concerned that she would bers of the small congregation died, including syna- queer Jews in the largest Jewish institutions, but the
be unable to live a happy, fulfi lled life because of wide- gogue President Ed Traitman, one of Silverman’s dear loss of a community that nurtured LGBT Jews when
friends. spread homophobia.

few others would.

Silverman remembers little of those years: “It’s
“AIDS just frightened people even more, so it
For Zinman, who still mourns the loss of friends
stopped any kind of forward movement for the Jewish almost as if I wasn’t even around at the time.”
and community members who died in the 1980s, con-
Holtzman, who was Beth Ahavah’s rabbi during gregations like Rodeph Shalom are still an overwhelm-
world for a while,” Holtzman said.

Zinman and Holtzman both assert that in the 1980s, the AIDS epidemic, remembers the ample trauma of ing victory for LGBT Jews.

Th e Jewish Exponent, then overseen by the Jewish the time more vividly. She remembers closeted Beth
“Th e language of LGBT and queer community,
Federation of Greater Philadelphia’s Jewish Publishing Ahavah members diagnosed with AIDS who were diversity, inclusion — that’s so crystal clear when you
Group, did not mention AIDS in obituaries of those forced to come out with their parents by telling them come into RS, not only reading it, but hearing it from
who died of complications from the disease. Th is was of their death sentence, she said.

people who greet you,” Zinman said. “And it’s just a
the status quo for Jewish publications of the time,
Some families of people with AIDS-related deaths beautiful thing.” JE
Holtzman said.

wouldn’t let Holtzman perform funerals for their rel-
Th e erasure of those who died of AIDS complications atives because of her association with Beth Ahavah. srogelberg@midatlanticmedia.com
was widespread across many large American publica- In other cases, families would
tions. Th e New York Times didn’t put news of AIDS want her to perform a funeral,
on the front page of the paper until 1983, reported but not disclose their loved
journalist Leah Rosenzweig in a 2018 investigation for one’s cause of death.

Slate. Reports of AIDS-related deaths were relegated
“We would do a funeral
to the back of the paper or sandwiched between unre- where we would talk about this
lated news sections. Reports obscured AIDS-related — who had been — a healthy
deaths as something random and unrelated.

20-something-year-old who
Former Jewish Exponent editor and current Hadassah died of pneumonia,” she said.

Magazine Executive Editor Lisa Hostein doesn’t remem-
Th e numerous AIDS-related
ber the Exponent’s policy on writing about AIDS-related deaths prompted Holtzman to
deaths during her time at the paper as an intern in 1983 help create the Reconstructionist
and as a reporter and news editor from 1985-1994. Chevra Kadisha, or burial ritual
However, the Exponent did not publish announcements society, of Philadelphia for those
of weddings or civil unions between LGBT couples until who felt other Jewish institu-
their policy change in 2009, which Hostein, who became tions would not honor their
executive editor in 2008, championed alongside Jewish deaths.

Publishing Group board Chairman Bennett L. Aaron.

“I started preparing bodies
From left: AIDS Library of Philadelphia co-founder John Cunningham
and Heshie Zinman in 2015
Th e absence of any signifi cant LGBT reporting in the for burial because one man
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM 17