Alan Clarke Alan Clarke was the second director of the Sussex AIDS Centre and Helpline on Cavendish Street and worked hard to raise awareness on AIDS related issues. He made the news in 1991 after calling for Brighton & Hove businesses to give their employees a personal supply of condoms to help stop the spread of the virus. Alan tested positive in 1988, and died peacefully aged 46 on the 31st July 1996. His funeral service took place at Woodvale Crematorium on the 7 August, and as a mark of respect the Sussex Aids Centre and Helpline closed that day. Alan requested that no flowers be sent, but asked instead for donations to the Sussex AIDS Centre Equipment fund and the Sussex Beacon.

I met Ann Marie and her partner Benjie for the first time in the late 1980s when I volunteered at the Sussex AIDS Centre & Helpline. The pair were inseparable and generally nocturnal, but sometimes they’d be seen strolling along St James’s Street making eyes turn as they passed. Benjie clearly modelled himself on Jimi Hendrix whilst Ann Marie was pure Goth with a slim figure and translucent porcelain skin. You could be sure they'd be the first at the chemist for their Methadone script. Their basement flat on Elm Grove was an Aladdin’s cave festooned with trinkets and fabric, shrouded by curtains which rarely opened. A chaotic space which echoed their lives. It’s no secret that the pair struggled with addiction but they were devoted to each other and somehow managed to survive for a while at least. Due to their vulnerability and poor health, Ann Marie and Benjie were rehoused in a flat on Tyson Place in Kemptown where Avee Isofa Holmes also lived at the time. She remembers Ann Marie as a ‘lovely serene quiet soul’ who was rarely seen unless she needed to borrow shampoo. Ann Marie’s family often visited from Ireland but despaired at her circumstances and lifestyle. Her ravaged immune system struggled with injection related wounds and as a result she was plagued by infections which would eventually prove too much for her. Ann Marie died in hospital in October 1991. Wolf Impala - a poem by Ann Marie published in the the Sussex AIDS Centre Newsletter (1991) In the cave of my brain where pulps a green throbbing light edges stretching bursting at my lovers contact and precious heart in the centre gold shafts oozing juice lubricating my hard strong magical thoughts idealism strikes but pain remains in the cave of my brain singing a sweet backward ballad I feel as many as every human living as mirrored pupiled eyes stare as the globe throws itself smashing against my brains walls a fucking elegant unpolish bang as different countrys continents races feel the impact of the cacophony of billions united inside the cave of my brain I ache an orgasm of love for all

Maurice’s story - 19 December 1987 ‘I developed swellings in my glands and my bowel movements became difficult. I told my doctor, whose reaction was “glands, that’s nothing - feel mine. I hope you’re not becoming obsessed with your bowels.” I was sent for a blood test, but as there was no HIV test in 1982, I was told that I must have picked up a virus which had now gone. But I think that it could have been HIV as two years ago I was diagnosed as being antibody positive. Since that day, I have to thank the Sussex AIDS Helpline, from whom I had support from the first moment of the shock of my diagnosis. I very soon joined the Helpline myself - it was the only way I could cope with everything. I had to know as much as I could about AIDS. After a while I realised I wanted to work with people with AIDS, so I did a course in massage techniques, so I could offer something useful to the people I worked with. Because I have had a full life, I can’t be too sad, though I’m not ready to go yet and I’m going to put up a fight. The people I feel sorry for are the young ones who thought they had a full life to lead, and now live in fear and doubt. Today at St. Peter’s Church, I witnessed the most beautiful service of my life – a memorial to those in Sussex who have died of AIDS. Bless whoever in the Helpline who first thought of this. I shall remember it for the rest of my life, however long that might be, and I shall remember my departed friends.’ Maurice died on the 12 January 1988, quite suddenly but peacefully.

Paul Overton “Paul Overton died on the 21 May 1994. In true Overton style, it was one day before his birthday and in the building where he was born 46 years earlier. I am not going to romanticise about Paul now that he is no longer with us - he could be a right pain in the neck when he chose, but he was dedicated to doing as much as he could for the AIDS/HIV community in Brighton. He was the co-ordinator of Our House BP as well as sitting on the management committees of SACH and the Sussex Beacon. He was always either in meetings with the Health Authority or writing letters to organisations and newspapers when there was something printed which he felt was derogatory to those living with HIV. His time was spent tirelessly trying to improve people’s perceptions of AIDS/HIV, he contributed to ‘Inform’ regularly and was a prolific short story writer in his own right. Paul wasn’t the person I’d have chosen to be stranded on a desert island, but I did spend many evenings in his company and realised his bark was much worse than his bite! He wasn’t bothered about winning any popularity contests- he was bothered about getting his job done. I miss him.” (Words by Phil Scott - Our House BP)