Ebola is the sad repeat of what happened with
the outbreak of AIDS nearly 30 years ago: The Western world watched
while poor, untreated black Africans died, usually alone and shamed by
the social stigmas associated with the trifling nature of the disease.
Despite the fact that I’m getting older, I still have a pretty good memory. One day last month when walking home from the corner of happy and healthy — that’s the Walgreens in Covington, Ky. — I heard someone say, “Hello, Larry.”
A photo of children being buried after an attack in Ukraine
led the Sept. 9 New York Times. I looked at it repeatedly, turning away, then returning. No
gore. No bloody bandages. No hovering physicians. A few grieving relatives and