8 My call to you, my party, is to take a public stand no less compassionate than that of the
President and Mrs. Bush. They have embraced me and my family in memorable ways. In the
place of judgment, they have shown affection. In difficult moments, they have raised our spirits.
In the darkest hours, I have seen them reaching not only to me but also to my parents, armed with
that stunning grief and special grace that comes only to parents who have themselves leaned too
long over the bedside of a dying child.
9 With the President’s leadership, much good has been done; much of the good has gone
unheralded; and, as the President has insisted, “Much remains to be done.”
12 My father has devoted much of his lifetime guarding against another Holocaust. He is
part of the generation who heard Pastor Niemoeller come out of the Nazi death camps to say:
“They came after the Jews, and I was not a Jew, so I did not protest. They came after the trade
unionists, and I was not a trade unionist, so I did not protest. Then they came after the Roman
Catholics, and I was not a Roman Catholic, so I did not protest. Then they came after me, and
there was no one left to protest.”
13 The lesson history teaches is this: If you believe you are safe, you are at risk. If you do
not see this killer stalking your children, look again. There is no family or community, no race or
religion, no place left in America that is safe. Until we genuinely embrace this message, we are a
nation at risk.
14 Tonight, HIV marches resolutely toward AIDS in more than a million American homes,
littering its pathway with the bodies of the young—young men, young women, young parents,
and young children. One of the families is mine. If it is true that HIV inevitably turns to AIDS,
then my children will inevitably turn to orphans.