The Power of an 'HIV Goddess'

Sharon Sopher, right, and Elizabeth Ventura take in Sopher's photo exhibit of women living with HIV and AIDS. The exhibit, along with a screening of Sopher's documentary, were held at the Department of Health and Human Services. (Michael Williamson -- The Washington Post)

As an adult, much of her work came out of the experiences of black people in the United States and in Africa. In addition to an Emmy-winning series on Muslims in America, she also filmed an interview with Muhammad Ali just after he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. And the footage she shot of the Rev. Daniel Berrigan, the anti-Vietnam War activist, while he was being sought by the FBI established early on her reputation for scoops and derring-do.

After 10 years with NBC, she wanted to break out and do more documentary projects. After her early work in Rhodesia covering the guerrillas who would later rule the country renamed Zimbabwe, she ventured to Morocco to produce her first independent documentary, "Blood and Sand: War in the Sahara," which aired on PBS in 1982.

Sopher was known as "adventurous," says Carol Jenkins, who was an anchor for WNBC-TV in New York while Sopher was a producer there. Jenkins, author of "Black Titan: The Making of a Black Millionaire," now sits on the advisory board of Sopher's HIV Goddesses Project.

She was known for "doing stories that other people were not telling," says Jenkins. "She always found stories that were new and interesting."

And now it is AIDS. And the stigma. And the women in the shadows.

"I really want this project to reach out to two types of women," says Sopher that evening in her hotel room. "One is the woman who doesn't have it yet. . . . And the second type are the women with it who are out there hiding."

She cocks her head, a pained expression on her face.

"Why should that be?" she asks. Why should women have to hide?

Sopher wants to create a new social mind-set in which women with AIDS can receive support.

She likens it to her effort to break through the propaganda about white-ruled South Africa. She was even jailed there for her film work.

Comparing AIDS and apartheid, she says, "this one truthfully is a tougher nut to crack."

She's holding an ice bag on her shoulder now. The pain rages, and she needs to tame it.

Producing and showing the film has worn her out -- physically and financially. All the racing around the country is just too much. She is frustrated that everything is so hard for her now.

The fact is, no matter how hard she fights it, no matter how powerful the drug cocktails she takes, the disease drains her energy.

"I feel like I'm competing with time," she says. "When I started this, I didn't know if I'd be alive to finish it."