THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, November 7, 1994 TAG: 9411070067
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B01 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MARIE JOYCE, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 115 lines
Alex Cory's hands were full, and his attention was divided. In his right hand, he clutched a real walkie-talkie, crackling with harried, grown-up voices. In his left, a string held onto a playful red balloon that bobbed madly in the wind.
Clutching his two prizes, the slender 8-year-old scampered around the parking lot of Harbor Park stadium, where crowds gathered Sunday for the Hampton Roads AIDS Walk for Life. Event organizers let Alex hold one of their walkie-talkies.
Alex's parents, Richard and Cathie, kept a watchful eye on him from their seats on a bleacher. The family had arrived early Sunday morning to help fold T-shirts for the annual fund-raiser. It wasn't just altruism that drew them. AIDS threatens to destroy their family within a few years.
Alex has AIDS. Cathie has tested positive for HIV, the virus that causes AIDS.
The Corys live in Chesapeake. Richard is an engineer and production supervisor at Lafarge Calcium Aluminates. Cathie does administrative work for American Systems Corp.
They had planned to walk in Sunday's march, which attracted about 3,000 people and raised $95,000 for AIDS programs. But Alex is participating in a clinical trial of a new drug, so he and his dad had to leave for Duke University before the march started.
The Corys' troubles started about eight years ago. Cathie probably contracted the virus when she got a blood transfusion after Alex was born. She apparently passed it to Alex through breast milk. She found out she had the virus when she went to donate blood.
For months after the diagnosis, Cathie and Richard couldn't talk about it without crying.
``I was probably the most ignorant man on the face of the Earth concerning HIV and AIDS . . . I was almost afraid to touch Alex and Cathie for awhile,'' Richard said.
Alex's red balloon popped in the wind. ``Oh,'' Alex said, his face falling for a moment. Then he raced off to find another one.
The Corys didn't tell many people about their problem. They didn't want Alex hurt by the stigma that plagues people with AIDS.
But Alex did suffer from it, even before he knew that he had the disease. He was drummed out of a day-care center and a church-run preschool, and the family had to fight to keep him in a private, religious kindergarten.
Richard finally realized that he needed to speak up. ``The more people I could reach, the more people I could educate, the better off my family would be.'' He has become a certified HIV/AIDS instructor for the American Red Cross and gives speeches for the Tidewater AIDS Crisis Taskforce.
Alex discovered the truth only last year.
When Richard started training with the Red Cross, he told Alex that he was going to school so he could teach people about AIDS.
Alex asked, ``What is AIDS?''
Richard tried to give him a brief, simple definition. Alex immediately saw the connection between AIDS symptoms and the medicine he took.
` `He asked me point-blank, `Daddy, do I have AIDS?' ''
They told Alex to keep quiet, that some people might not understand and might be mean to him.
Of course, that didn't work. Within a few days, he had told his best friend next door, and triumphantly reported, ``Kevin's still my friend.'' He told everyone on the school bus and announced it to his class when the teacher left the room.
Richard went door-to-door in the neighborhood, trying to educate people and soothe some parents who were angry that the Corys hadn't said anything.
``We've told him that he really shouldn't tell people,'' said Richard, but they don't press him too much. ``I don't want him to feel ashamed. He hasn't done anything to be ashamed of.''
The Corys talked about this calmly, as if they were discussing a minor medical problem. They hardly even mentioned Cathie and the virus. She hasn't developed any problems yet, and in the face of her son's illness, hers just doesn't seem as important.
``I don't look too far into the future, because I don't expect to have one,'' she said matter-of-factly. ``You either learn to be positive, or you just let it eat you up.''
But sometimes when Richard is at work, he has to slip away so he can cry. The news in December 1992 that Alex's HIV had turned into full-blown AIDS devastated them, even though they had known it was inevitable.
So far, Alex has shown very few symptoms. He appears completely healthy to a casual observer.
But there are signs. He is small for his age. He tires easily - he needs to sleep 12 hours a night. And he has a precocious ability to rattle off multisyllabic medical terms, like azidothymidine.
His parents don't dwell on the inevitable outcome of AIDS - they want Alex to be happy and upbeat. They spoil him a little, but they raise him as if they expect him to become a grown man. He wants to be an astronaut, and an engineer like his dad - and a doctor in his spare time.
``I've told him someday he'll get very sick, but we give him medicine that hopefully will help keep him from getting sick,'' said Richard.
But one day, Alex asked, ``What happens if my medicine doesn't work . . . I think I'll get sick and die.''
Richard told him, ``Well, that's something that could happen,'' but he added, ``You feel good now. Have fun and don't worry about that.''
Alex came running back to the bleachers. The knees of his pants were smudged with dirt, and he held onto the string of a bright yellow balloon. ILLUSTRATION: Staff color photo by MOTOYA NAKAMURA
Richard Cory, his wife, Cathie, and their son, Alex, 8, attend the
1994 Hampton Roads Walk for Life on Sunday in Norfolk. Cathie
contracted the AIDS virus through a blood transfusion and apparently
passed it to Alex.
Staff photos by MOTOYA NAKAMURA
About 3,000 people participated in the Hampton Roads AIDS Walk for
Life Sunday at Harbor Park. The event raised $95,000 for AIDS
programs. Many participants wrote dedications to friends and family
members who died from the disease.
by CNB