At the height of the HIV/AIDS crisis, the candle in the window of Toronto’s Casey House was lit all too often — a subtle gut punch to passersby who knew its significance, as a memorial to yet another life extinguished by the virus.
Those were the dark days, staff inside the hospice-turned-hospital recall — so grim was the prognosis of HIV in the 1980s and early ‘90s that health care workers wound up grappling with post-traumatic stress for years, one noted, as profound grief ballooned through the city’s queer communities.