While other kids might have been following their moms to the grocery store, Abby Gaskins tagged along with her mother to a hospice. The country house in Fayetteville, Ga., looked like any other, except perhaps for the wheel chair ramp, but inside were the true faces of the AIDS epidemic.

“I’ll never forget what I saw there,” Gaskins said. “It wasn’t frightening or terrifying, but impactful. Someone might have been there one week and gone the next.”

Growing up in the ’80s, AIDS news was all around Gaskins, and she carried these early-formed experiences with her. She later became involved in music and marching bands in particular.

In high school, Gaskins came out as a lesbian, and decided that once she graduated college, she would join the Atlanta Freedom Marching Band — a prominent presence in the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender community. She also knew that she wanted to do as much as she could for AIDS research.

Now 27, Gaskins is a drummer and the vice president of the Atlanta Freedom Bands and also a participant in the Hope Clinic’s HIV vaccine trials. On May 31, Gaskins’ two passions — music and AIDS research — will find a common ground: the Concert for Hope.

The first solo gig for the Atlanta Freedom Concert Band, the Concert for Hope will benefit the Hope Center, part of the Emory Vaccine Center, and its work toward finding an HIV vaccine.

According to the Centers for Disease Control, HIV affects more than one million people in America, a quarter of which are undiagnosed. Worldwide, the virus has killed 25 million people.

The Hope Clinic opened in 2002 to work on prevention of HIV and other infectious diseases. In 2007, the clinic became home to pharmaceutical company Merck & Co.’s test vaccine against HIV.

The vaccine was meant to cause the body to increase T cells, and then those cells would be ready to destroy the virus when it entered the bloodstream. Gaskins took part in this trial, receiving three doses of the vaccine and keeping a report card of any side effects she experienced. Trial participants were never subjected to the HIV virus — only the vaccine.

The goal was to see if the rate at which participants acquired HIV mirrored national averages. Hopefully, it would lower the rate.

No such trend occurred, though, and in some subgroups, the rate even increased. Organizers halted the trial mid-way through when it was determined that the vaccine did not reduce cases of HIV.

Gaskins, a design assistant at an architecture firm, first learned of the trial from her mother, a public health nurse. She knew it was for a good cause and was always up for extra money.

Though the trial was scrapped, Gaskins continued to get blood drawn to provide the researchers with as much information as possible that could show them the error of the last vaccine.

The clinic is currently asking for college-age volunteers to have blood drawn for a study of mumps, pursuing their mission of learning more about infectious diseases regardless of setbacks.

“AIDS research can seem like a black hole of money,” Gaskins said. “But I know they’ve made progress. I just want them to keep fighting the good fight. I want people to know this is where it’s going.”

And the Atlanta Freedom Band is determined to raise awareness about the Hope Clinic, too, through the upcoming concert.

Not only is AIDS a long-held issue of the gay community at large, but it carries personal significance to the members of AFB, for they have lost members, including the founder, Buz Carr.

In 1993, Carr started the Atlanta Freedom Band with the hopes of promoting awareness of and creating support within the Gay, Lesbian, Bi and Transgender community. Though losing Carr to HIV in 1995, the band played on, growing in number and bands over the years.

The band simply touts the motto, “Come out and play.” With a no-audition, come-as-you-are policy, the band draws a motley crew, from the highly trained to people who haven’t picked up a horn in 30 years.

Assistant Conductor Kenneth Hosley said they adjust to the wide range of skill levels by picking pieces that can accommodate the needs of the weaker players and the strong players, and hopefully showcase the talent of both.

“We have to be very adaptive,” Hosley said. “But so far, we’ve done pretty well.”

For one parade, the band even rigged a wheelchair with a glockenspiel, and a new instrument was born: the glockenstroller, as the band affectionately dubbed it.

Now, with 25 active members and five separate bands including the Concert Band and Marching Band, they’re ready to give back.

“It seemed selfish to do a whole concert just to show ourselves,” Gaskins said.

She finds it uplifting that the two nonprofits are working together and considers it a “source of pride” to be involved with both.

“We don’t exist to make money,” Lee Steakley, a fellow Atlanta Freedom Band member, said. “We’re here to make music and to support the community. Doing it for a cause makes it more worthwhile.”

Steakley’s vibrant hands fluttered as he spoke about the people he’s lost to HIV.

“It’s sometimes hard to keep up hope that there will be a real cure or prevention, but if we don’t keep trying, it’ll never happen.”

Promoting community has always been a goal of the AFB. As seen in the giggles that erupt all over in practice and the lingering chats that occur before and after Friday night rehearsals, the bands form a tight-knit group referred to as “family” by many members.

“We all get that warm fuzz that just brings it all together,” said Erica Fleming, who drives up to an hour and 45 minutes from Henry County to play her coronet at the weekly band practices.

The first time she made the trek, she said the other members greeted her warmly with, “Hi, how are ya?” and just put music directly in front of her.

She said in-fighting between different instrument sections was common in high school and college, but never found that same bickering in AFB.

Gaskins says she is a cheerleader of sorts of the Hope Clinic for the band. She pep-talked members into meeting at 6 a.m. on a Saturday for a previous performance for the Hope Clinic, and has backed the Concert for Hope from the onset. As long as she cheers, she has hope for what the clinic can achieve.

— Contact Bridget Riley.