oward had been my friend and 'partner in crime' since 1990. He was one of my 3 remaining friends still living with HIV/AIDS from that 'era.' Our mutual friend David Paye introduced us and I'm forever grateful for that! I can not say enough good things about Howard. He embodied courage, strength and humanity at their finest. Not to mention, he was intelligent, handsome and one hell of a tennis player. "His survival with AIDS made my own survival seem like a 'cakewalk' at times. He pushed, encouraged and supported me on so many levels. I am still coming to grips with the fact that Howard has died, it is utterly surreal. You will never ever be forgotten, Howard, and I will carry you close to my heart, always!

R.I.P. buddy!

Howard Jacobs was born in New York City and moved to the West Hollywood in 1987.

As a graduate of Boston University with a degree in Hotel and Food Administration, Howard was employed as the Director of Purchasing/Food and Beverage Controller for Sheraton Grande Hotel in downtown Los Angeles as well as a Credit Manager for the J.W. Marriott Hotel in Century City (now the Park Hyatt Hotel).

Howard was diagnosed with AIDS on October of 1989 over 14 years ago. Soon into his diagnoses, Howard became a tireless advocate on behalf of people living with HIV disease. After seeing too many of his friends die, Howard began to volunteer at AIDS Project Los Angeles (APLA) in the Government Affairs department. Named as Volunteer of the Year in 1995 for APLA, Howard was honored for his leadership in Public Policy development from the organization.

Not only did he speak at public education forums on HIV prevention and large events such as the AIDS Walk, Howard, also, ran the Grass Roots programs for APLA creating a letter writing, e-mail, fax and direct one on one lobbying campaign to improve the quality of life for people living with HIV disease. In addition, he started a program for clients of the agency called Speak-Up so they could better advocate on their own behalf. Members of these grass roots programs met with local, state and federal officials including former Secretary of Health and Human Services, Donna Shalala, Senators Dianne Feinstein and Barbara Boxer as well as Members of Congress including Henry Waxman and Maxine Waters.

Howard has been a strong community organizer. He has assisted in the development of annual county, state, and federal lobby day’s for the people affected and infected by HIV and developed a advocacy training program called Activate!U to educate people on ways to impact the legislative process. In addition, he served as a member of the California State HIV CARE Consumer Advisory Board and chaired the Public Policy committee for the Los Angeles County Commission on HIV Health Services, He, furthermore, was a member of the LA City Housing Opportunities for People with AIDS Advisory Board. Currently, he serves as the President of the Board of Directors for Being Alive/People with AIDS Action Coailtion.

The impacts of triple combination therapies changed the long-term heath care outcome for Howard who returned to paid employment at APLA in June of 1998. During this time, Howard was appointed to the Disability Advisory Board for the City of West Hollywood. He left the agency to work for Councilmember Jeffrey Prang from the City of West Hollywood in December 1998. At this point, Howard’s story was beginning to be chronicled by the Los Angeles Times, Westside Weekly section. He, in addition, wrote his own column describing the challenges of a person living with AIDS for this newspaper and other interested publications.

As a council deputy for Councilmember Prang, Howard has been a staff liaison to community advisory boards that have focused on disabled, senior, and gay and lesbian issues. During his tenure on these advisory bodies, the City has declared itself a sanctuary for people in need of medicinal marijuana, opened a raised garden bed for people with mobility impairments, created a recreation program for the disabled, increased funds for their HIV prevention programs, began a senior discount shopping program and commenced a recognition ceremony for same sex domestic partners in relationships of ten years or more.


Howard resides in West Hollywood and lives with his dog Wilma

Wake-Up Call from HIV
Living with HIV

By Howard Jacobs

June 2000
It has been said that adversity builds character. Since my AIDS diagnosis almost 11 years ago and surviving my most recent health crisis, I think character-building is well overrated.

"Chronic and manageable, miraculous recovery, full and productive life": these are the headlines consistently being used when discussing HIV disease. After months with a non-detectable viral load and T-cells high enough to make me feel guilty for having so many, I believed these words.

"I am going to live forever," I thought, not knowing what "forever" really meant, but understanding my present living situation needed to change.

Getting off Social Security, acquiring private health insurance and finding employment, I determined, was the best way to transition back into mainstream society. I felt great taking my first step working for a large AIDS-service organization. Six months later, I knew I was back as I began a job for the city I live in and appreciate working for a council member I respect and admire.

One and a half years later, the term "chronic and manageable" seemed to embody me. I was comfortable striking the balance between taking medications, seeing the doctor quarterly and performing my job to the satisfaction of myself and others. Under the stress of this high-profile position my health remained strong. I was challenged by the blood sport we call politics but enjoyed solving community issues while being a part of a dynamic and concerned City Hall staff.

I tuned out my reality of seeing friends getting sick or hearing about another death at a local AIDS housing facility. That was, of course, until the day I could not lift my head off the pillow or drag my body out of bed. I knew there was something seriously wrong as I made the appointment to see my physician. Two weeks later I was lying in a bed at Cedars-Sinai Hospital.

I almost fell back as the digital scale blinked 139 pounds. "One-hundred and thirty-nine pounds," I muttered, watching the overworked sometimes uncaring nurse's assistant walk out of my room, not recognizing the power of these blinking numbers. Jesus, I thought, I haven't seen that on any scale since sixth grade. My body began to shake and my mind started racing wildly. I've never been this sick, I've never been this skinny and I've never been this scared.

I had to laugh at the irony, hearing the television blare "chronic and manageable" while I watched my astute, well dressed and well mannered doctor walk down the hallway into my room. Noticing the seriousness in his eyes, I could not resist asking if "chronic and manageable" had any time limitations. He smiled and tried to reassure me I would get better. I was grateful for his confidence feeling certain it was my turn to die. How long could my body hold up fighting the immediate crisis of pneumonia, bacterial peritonitis, chronic hepatitis and ascites along with insulin dependent diabetes and HIV?

Eight weeks after my hospital stay, the scale read 158 pounds. "I survived this one," I said to my usual nurse, uncertain as to how but unduly grateful for the understanding of my employer, the assistance of family and friends as well as an outpouring of concern from community residents and co-workers.

"Do you think HIV disease is chronic and manageable?" I asked her. "I guess it depends on who you ask and when," she replied.

From personal experience I knew she was right.