E-mortality
I just found out that one of the editors I worked with on the Mets Annuals died today, and I'm kind of in shock. I know he had some health issues (apparently his prognosis was that he'd likely recover this last time), but even so, he was only 44, which is just too young. Oddly, the first thing I thought of is what to do with my electronic connections -- he's both a facebook friend, and I think his phone number is in my cell, and I'm a little spooked that if I were to post to his wall (as several people have, leaving well wishes) or call that number, it'd just go into nothingness without a response. Is that a strange early thought to have?
[EDIT (11:04 p.m.): Also crazy, I have two "followers" on my inactive Twitter account, and he's one of them. What are the odds?]
In terms of Greg as a person, I wish I could say more than the cliche, that he was just a nice person, really approachable, easy to talk to just to shoot the breeze at SABR conventions, or over the phone when he'd contact me about my articles -- the topic of conversation which, I might add, was more than "just business"; he'd ask sometimes how I was doing or what I was up to, and I definitely felt like he was more a friendly acquaintance than just someone I worked with on a couple of projects that ended there. (Maybe that's part of the reason I'm more hit by this -- most of the people I've worked with on SABR publications and the like tend to prefer e-mail as their chosen means of communication, whereas he was one of a rare breed who liked to call sometimes. Over the years, I've exchanged e-mails with a handful of people who are no longer with us, but Greg might be the first person to make my cell phone address book.) I guess sometimes cliches are cliches because they're true. And perhaps we all can hope that when we go people will just remember us as a good person, if nothing else.
RIP, Greg. I wish I didn't have to write this, because it hurts.
[EDIT (11:04 p.m.): Also crazy, I have two "followers" on my inactive Twitter account, and he's one of them. What are the odds?]
In terms of Greg as a person, I wish I could say more than the cliche, that he was just a nice person, really approachable, easy to talk to just to shoot the breeze at SABR conventions, or over the phone when he'd contact me about my articles -- the topic of conversation which, I might add, was more than "just business"; he'd ask sometimes how I was doing or what I was up to, and I definitely felt like he was more a friendly acquaintance than just someone I worked with on a couple of projects that ended there. (Maybe that's part of the reason I'm more hit by this -- most of the people I've worked with on SABR publications and the like tend to prefer e-mail as their chosen means of communication, whereas he was one of a rare breed who liked to call sometimes. Over the years, I've exchanged e-mails with a handful of people who are no longer with us, but Greg might be the first person to make my cell phone address book.) I guess sometimes cliches are cliches because they're true. And perhaps we all can hope that when we go people will just remember us as a good person, if nothing else.
RIP, Greg. I wish I didn't have to write this, because it hurts.