A couple of weeks ago, I posted this prayer request for M at my Church. At the time, she was not expected to last very long. However, she did recover consciousness, though she may not have been totally aware of where or when she was, and was transferred to a hospice. She has now passed, and I would ask for prayers for her soul and that of her husband who passed around the time she had her stroke.
For me, I will remember her smile and her willingness to do. She would sometimes join our choir, worked at the bookstore, and would pitch in as needed on things. That big smile was such a part of her. She will be missed.
I have to admit up front that I don’t remember when and where I first met David Drake. Stupid lightning. I know it was many years ago, and it probably first started like any other such thing with a quick hi, love your stuff, thank you glad you do thing. Listening to him, however, quickly revealed a sharp mind and sense of humor to go with a certain degree of being an introvert. David would people until he had enough, then would pull out a book and go invisible. I remember it took a while to do more than the brief commentary thing.
While I don’t remember most of the convention, or even the name of the convention (it was in Knoxville), I do remember him shaking his head, smiling, and providing me with Latin for use in a roast of the legendary Uncle Timmy. Rather than the traditional “Hail Caesar” this version ended with F U. I admit, I’ve used it many times since, because most people (including some superiors) really don’t understand Latin… Thank goodness.
It was always a blast to hear him talk about the roots of some of his work, be it Norse legends, Roman history, or obscure ancient politics. While he would discuss the military and his time in it, if you really wanted to see him get animated you just asked him a question on those first topics. Bonus animation and points for actually knowing a bit of relevant info on the topic.
Up top is the first of several videos of him I did for Blackfive while interviewing various Baen authors. Baen helped sponsor and arrange the interviews, and I suspect somewhere on the Baen site you can find those videos, and if not, you can go here to find them in the Blackfive archives. I think that interview was the last time I saw him in person.
He will be missed, both as a person and an author. I put that in that order deliberately, as I think it is how he viewed things. If he had even a trace of the “Big Name Author” syndrome, I never saw it at any convention. When I was railroaded into helping get LibertyCon off the ground (I heard the whistle and choo choo after the Timmy train had hit), he was one of the easiest people to work with in regards programming. He was just a man who had done a few things. He took pride in his work, be it driving a bus or writing a book. He was a man who believed in honor, which could get interesting if you crossed certain lines. He was a man who did not tolerate rudeness or other idiocy.
And he was one heck of an author. His Hammer’s Slammers books had quite an impact on me, including the realization that someone else felt the same way about some things as I did, that I was not alone. His work on the Eddas took Norse literature and legend into new domains, and opened that world to new audiences. It hurts to know that there will be no more Leary and Mundy adventures. Or that fantasy will be sadly missing a giant who reshaped the genre in ways that echo the influence of Tokien. While he might have disagreed, I do think a good argument can be made that his impact on fantasy should be seen in the same light.
I can’t say we were friends, but rather were friendly. The man could tell a joke, and had a great sense of humor. What advice he gave has stood me in good stead. His efforts to ensure that the work of Manly Wade Wellman were not lost, and his efforts to help Karl Edward Wagner say a good bit about him as a man. Particularly the latter, as that was no easy task.
Raise your glasses high, and honor ‘just a man’ who has done just a few things. A lawyer. A bus driver. An author. And who just happened to have ridden with the Blackhorse. Hand Salute!
I have said my prayers, and for those of you who pray, I would ask you to join in and also to say one for Karl as well.
As for me, I plan to enjoy going through his works. Especially as it seems my memory issues are going to make some of them (many?) a ‘reading again for the first time’ as the memories of reading them the first time are lost. And if as I read some of those memories return, well, then I shall happily welcome the characters and plot back as old and comfortable friends bringing comfort on a cold winter’s night.
Godspeed David Drake. The world is much richer for your life.
Getting hit by lightning is not fun! If you would like to help me in my recovery efforts, which include moving once we have medical issues cleared up, feel free to hit the fundraiser at A New Life on GiveSendGo, use the options in the Tip Jar in the upper right, or drop me a line to discuss other methods. It is thanks to your gifts and prayers that I am still going. Thank you.
My youngest niece, A, lost her oldest son, G, this last Thursday. I would appreciate prayers for his soul, and for the comfort of his mother, family, and friends. Extra prayers for his mother very much appreciated.
G had health issues for a long time. Despite the challenges, he worked hard, graduated college, and was working on starting a career. Godspeed G.
My Saturday afternoon was interrupted by a call I first thought was a telemarketer, and now really wish it had been. Instead, it was the manager of the storage facility where I have most of what’s left of my life put away for now. Not a huge thing, less than half the normal size, but packed full of memories and the few things I’ve been able to hold onto these last few years. Including my books.
One of those things was Flo, officially named “Flowing in the Wind” by Phigmuth (also spelled Fhighmuth), a five-and-a-half-foot tall bronze statue that came into my life via 9-11. I used to have a small art collection, mostly paintings, but also three bronzes that came out of my first visit to NYC after 9-11.
Let’s just say that New York was not itself in those early days. Among other things, everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop. As a member of NYPD put it while we were out on the river checking some things out, including a possible dead body, “Take a look at it while it’s still here!” The “it” in this case was the Statue of Liberty, which he made sure I and the crew got a good look at, just in case.
It wasn’t just the tourists not crowding around, as the natives had a tendency to do what was needed and get home as well. It was almost like I had the streets to myself (at least compared to normal) as I wandered around between meetings and such. Walking around after one such meeting, which had taken me from various points south and much closer to Central Park, I spotted a place who’s name I actually recognized, and as they were open, I decided to go in and browse the art.
I was all but tackled in welcome, and actually did finally whip around holding my hands up in a cross and hissing like Dracula at them as they hovered over me. We talked a bit, and they explained that I was the first major customer that had had come in since 9-11. My immediate response was to ask what made them think I was a major customer?
“You are in here!”
As a NASA contractor, I wasn’t exactly rich or even well off. That said, I saw and fell in love with Flo. Problem was, there were many other items and if I had been rich I could have made out like a bandit on bronzes, paintings, and more. On my more modest means, I ended up being made an offer I couldn’t refuse. I got a nice price on Flo, and they essentially threw in two other small bronzes (a statue and a lamp). According to them, it was their first sale since 9-11. Over the years and ups and downs, the other two left but I have managed to hold on to Flo no matter what.
Until Saturday. Despite video and alarms, a crew got into the fenced storage site, inside a building, and hit around 13 units. From what I was hearing, they didn’t dig in deep, but just took one or two things from each unit from near the front. In my case they dug a bit, but that was because I had two empty gun cases in there that they must have thought were the motherload. One day soon will need to get some boxes, bags, and tape and go down and clean up.
I found some of my stuff in the mostly vacant unit next door, where they had pulled out enough stuff to get Flo’s crate open and her out. Sort of suspect they may have used it for some other units too. It was the bedspread that had been in the crate as padding that caused me (and the uniform taking my report) to look into that unit. An empty storage tote of mine makes me think they got some other stuff, but I don’t have a clue what it is or could be. Stupid lightning.
My first thought was to reach out to various contacts to spread the word of my loss, and to see if anyone might have any idea of someone who might possibly hear of artwork on the market (your friendly local Fence). That appears to be a dwindling occupation, as I learned that often bronzes and such are often chosen because they can be quickly sold with few questions to metal recyclers. A 200 pound statue gets not nearly the money it’s worth as an artwork, but more than enough to make a smash-and-grab profitable.
From what I was hearing yesterday, Flo is probably already broken up and sold. Possibly before I even got down to the unit. Recyclers who don’t ask questions (and also often buy catalytic converter cores without proper paperwork) also have a tendency to crush/cut/etc. to get rid of evidence as quickly as possible I hear. So, despite the quick response by Greenwood PD, odds are I will not be reunited with Flo barring a bit of a miracle.
I’m having a hard time praying nicely for the thieves, as the nasty part of me both wishes they had tipped over the stack of very heavy crates onto themselves when going for the gun cases, and that poetic justice pays them a visit. An old part of me wouldn’t mind witnessing, or even assisting, that poetic operation. The rest of me remembers I’m old, don’t get around well, and am a nice wolf now.
Flo at Christmas
Besides, Flo herself epitomized the freedom of letting go, casting aside your fears, and making the most of the moment that is now. For all that my now has brought back some of the absolute horror that was 9-11 and the aftermath, it has also brought back the memories of how she came into my life, of the beauty, resilience, and even niceness that peeked through New York in those days. And of the moments where her beauty enriched my days, and often made me smile. A few small long-term memories restored is a nice thing, though I wish circumstances were different. Remember kids: getting hit by lightning sucks. Don’t do that.
Yes, I can get a cheaper casting but it won’t be the same. The casting I lucked into would never have been mine under other circumstances, given the normal price. And, yes, quality matters. If things ever work out where I could find a casting of the same quality, I would have to think about it. If there is a small miracle, and she finds her way home, I will be beyond delighted. She also won’t go back into storage, as I will find a way to get her into my room.
Even if I can’t move to the SW yet, need to find some place to call my own. Some place I can have my books out, hang what little art I have left, and get the other bits of beauty and the past out of storage. If you are the praying kind, please ask that I be shown what I should do and where I should go. Thanks.
Getting hit by lightning is not fun! If you would like to help me in my recovery efforts, which include moving to the SW, feel free to hit the fundraiser at A New Life on GiveSendGo, use the options in the Tip Jar in the upper right, or drop me a line to discuss other methods. It is thanks to your gifts and prayers that I am still going. Thank you.
Normally, if I can’t say anything good about a person, I try to just keep silent. As it is, I can actually say something good about Jimmy, the feckless peanut, though not as much as I might want.
Just as the shades of Pierce, (A) Johnson, and Arthur could look at Jimmy in thanks for taking on the mantle of worst President, Jimmy can look gratefully at Dementia Joe and the Biden Regency for taking that mantle for the next 100 years (I hope we get no one worse before then).
I was born and raised in Georgia, and very briefly was involved with Carter’s campaign while still in high school. I plead the folly of youth and ignorance, and came fairly quickly to embrace my friend Strawberry’s take of ‘We decided to share the joke that was Jimmy with the world. We had no idea you bastards would take it seriously.’
The man did more damage to our military than the enemy, at least up until Obama and now the Biden Regency took up that torch. What he did to intelligence still tends to make me drop into ‘salty language’ to be polite. The damage there was even more enormous. I’m not even going to get into national malaise and all the other joys of his administration. When you add in the fact that he is a rather vile and loathsome anti-semite who still misses no chance to hurt Israel, you sorta get the picture. Indeed, the joke is the elaborate state funeral he planned (and he has) is to take place in Gaza.
Thing is, if not for Gimme, we might not have had the Reagan Restoration as it happened. In many respects, he is responsible for Boss winning and winning big, elections and more.
Where I can give him some respect and praise is in his actions as an ex-President and his work with charity. His work with Habitat for Humanity and other good works set a bar that most haven’t even tried to meet. Too much of our political class is there for the photo op, to talk, take a cut, and to let others do the work. Jimmy waded in with hammer, saw, and did real work rather that the posturing so common today. Yes, he raised money and awareness, but genuinely seemed to enjoy the labor that went with it.
Here and overseas, he made a real difference. He got his hands not just dirty, but all of him and seemed to enjoy it very much. I have to respect that, and am glad it gives me something good to say about him as his time here grows short. As I hope others will do for me one day, I will pray for God to forgive him his sins and any other transgressions, I will pray for his soul, and I will give thanks that the charities involved will hopefully go on and continue to do good in the world. May his passing be peaceful and may God’s mercy be on all he leaves behind.
Sadly, I learned this morning from the wonderful Chris Muir at DayByDay that Gerard Van Der Leun is in hospice. I ask you for prayers for him, for Neo, and all the others in his life — including his readers.
To the best of my memory, I never got to meet him in person. I remember how welcoming he was to people in the early days of the blogosphere. He encouraged, prodded, and yes poked the rest of us. The blogosphere benefitted from him, and the world is the richer for all he did as a writer and beyond.
For me, I ask God for mercy on him; for care, comfort, and guidance to those who care for him in the days to come; and, mercy and comfort to those he is about to leave behind. Godspeed Gerard! You did good and left a mark few can equal.
While known to many as Cpl. Lebeau on Hogan’s Heroes, Robert Clary was a multi-talented entertainer. He was also the only survivor in his family of the Holocaust, with his parents and 14 siblings dying in the camps. His life ended yesterday at 96 years of age, but his story will live on for the ages because of his efforts to share his story and bear witness to what he saw in the camps. Read a bit more a bout him and the untold story of Hogan’s Heroes. Godspeed.
Bleep. When he made it home, I had hoped he was on the mend. Sadly, it was not to be. Denny (Dennis) Wilson, aka the Grouchy Old Cripple, was one of the early bloggers and he stayed with it until the end.
His “Asshole of the Week” and “Saturday Boobage” posts on Saturday could overshadow his musical posts on Sunday in some ways, but the latter presented an amazing array of talent and musical ability that always entertained and usually had me in awe of the musicians. He had a way with words and his posts were indeed entertaining.
At a blogger meetup in Atlanta, he was, I think, amused at how fast everyone said he was picking the wine to go with the dinner. Not that bloggers were or are ever a cantankerous bunch who rarely agreed on anything… Fact was, Denny was a member of the Sommelier Guild of Atlanta (hobby, after the Navy he worked with computers at IBM) and his choices weren’t just good but amazing.
This weekend, my friend and brother from another mother, John Leonard (Sunny) Cone, Jr. passed away. For all that I had hoped there would be more time, it was not unexpected. Sunny knew his time was likely short, but swore those that knew to secrecy as he didn’t want people to worry.
That, and a dedication to helping his friends, were Sunny in a nutshell. We first met in kindergarten, then came together again in grade school and high school. He was everything this introvert was not: outgoing, sociable, mischievous, with a ready wit. Even then, he looked after his friends and those he “adopted” for lack of a better word. He was a preacher’s son, but his wild was tempered and any shenanigans he or any of us together may have gotten up to were never harmful.
To this day I still laugh every time I think about him serenading our 8th grade biology teacher (and the class) with the tune ‘I believe in sphericals’ sung to the tune of “I believe in miracles (you sexy thing you).” His humor, and he himself, were delightfully irrepressible. At least to us, his classmates. I’m not prepared to swear the teachers always agreed with that.
He also never hesitated to, metaphorically at least, kick our ass if he felt we needed it. Get up, get going, the future is up to you and glorious if you move, move, move. Pretty good about taking it too, when needed.
Life put us on different paths, but brought us back together every now and then. In recent times, we both had some changes in fortune and health. Sunny, sadly, lost his first wife unexpectedly. He was then blessed to meet Monica and marry her, and she was by his side high or low until the end. Like me, he had some memory issues though his were caused by some falls. He had other things crop up, and we encouraged each other and did what we could for each other.
Typical Sunny, even as things were grim he was looking for ways not just to get back on his feet, but to help take others along as well. He thought he had an angle I could do even with my memory issues. Sadly, it was not to be as he recently took a turn for the worse then passed. There will be a celebration of life in November, and I’m going to do what I can to be there. Meantime, one of his college friends has started a GoFundMe to help Monica with medical and other expenses.
Godspeed my friend. May God wrap you in his light and love brother. May your light and love join with his and shine down on Monica and those you leave behind.
I would end by saying ‘until Valhalla’ but if I did, Sunny would find a way to greet me on the other side wearing a cheesy Viking horn hat playing a kazoo instead of blowing a horn. Guaranteed.
For all that I am glad I don’t live under any monarchy, I liked Queen Elizabeth II; I admired a number of aspects about her; and, I respected even more. She was a better friend to the U.S. than many may ever know or realize. From all accounts she would be the first to admit she wasn’t perfect, but she set a standard few can measure up to.
For me, you gotta love that as a teenager facing the Blitz, she learned to shoot Winston Churchill’s tommy gun; reportedly received rather extensive weapons training as both she and her father said no to leaving in the face of invasion (rumor has it the initial response was rather pithy, and the public statement was a bit more diplomatic but also blunt). In addition, she learned car repair/mechanics and drove an ambulance during the blitz. When not driving, she worked on said ambulances. Fearless is one of the descriptors used in regards her driving, again rumor suggests a few others were applied as well. She reportedly retained a keen interest in both the military and intelligence throughout her life, possibly to the dismay of certain prime ministers. She also had a quick way with people who, er, got on her bad side. Personally driving the Saudi monarch around on a tour after that gentleman had made some comments in public about women drivers was just one of them. There is more I could say, but for now, I will simply say:
God Bless Queen Elizabeth II! May God have mercy on the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth, and all those who morn her passing. We will not see her like again anytime soon.
