I remember hearing the news. And I remember being stunned. It was 1991, and one of the most famous celebrity athletes of all time had just announced he had HIV.

It’s not hard to guess I’m talking about Magic Johnson, although it’s surprising to think that was 15 years ago. Especially when I shudder at my lightning-strike instant reaction: “Magic’s … a dead man.”

Yes, that’s right. It’s hard to remember those days when HIV slid horribly and inexorably into AIDS, and no one knew how soon or how virulently. At best, Magic had a handful of years, and they wouldn’t be pretty.

There was only one drug at that time, and we really didn’t know if it would work or even then, for how long. Flash forward 15 years, and we have twenty viable treatments. And Magic Johnson striding into the room, six feet nine inches tall, humble and smiling. In fact, glowing – the picture of health.

Lessons abound in this example, many of which speak to our expectations and our fears.

Today the challenge is avian flu and the possibility of pandemic, not unlike the Great Influenza Epidemic of 1918 with a global death toll in the millions. Yet this devastation and its rapid-fire spread were decades before our time. Today, thousands of airplanes are constantly aloft all over the globe, moving closely-seated crowds of absolute strangers quickly along our modern trade routes. Think of the crisscross subways of New York, putting all of the city blocks within easy reach, only this time it’s planet Earth.

We are well past the post-World War II euphoria over antibiotics and well into the challenge of living with global mobility as a given of everyday life.

Today’s fear over avian flu reminds me of those dark days of the 80’s and the 90’s, when everyday people were unsure if there would ever be hope, when parents feared for their children, individuals feared for themselves, and families grieved even while the HIV-positive were still alive and walking the earth, waiting and wondering what their suddenly-truncated future would hold.

We’ve often heard that there is nothing new under the sun, but I’m not so sure.

In this age of science and technology, fortunes can change on the turn of a dime, and you need only think of SARS as witness. Never before had global scientists mobilized so quickly, bonded by daily communications, shared lab work, public health strategies and instant international accords. And even then, we got lucky: the solution was within reach of cutting-edge medicine and modern communications. But it was frightening just the same: If you contracted SARS, you would most likely die, and die very soon. And this time, the scourge was so easy to catch.

So whether we’re talking about the few treacherous months of SARS or the our decades fighting HIV and AIDS, the fact of science and technology is that it is a rapid-responder. Not always with a solution, but definitely in its ability to corral forces and apply constant pressure, an undeniable record of creating viable options where before there were none.

And so it is with Magic Johnson. Today he fights not only HIV and AIDS in poor urban areas, but he also brings them diabetes tests and other diagnostics on the spot. He tells them – as he has lived it – to face the truth and take it head on. For themselves, and for the people they love.

And the larger lesson of Magic Johnson standing before us, full of life? Never forget: In the age of science and technology, “Paradigms shift. Realities change. Count on it.”

I'm Moira Gunn. This is Five Minutes.