On Saturday afternoon, Don Perrin and I drove up to Lake Geneva for Gary Gygax’s funeral. The visitation had started at 11 AM, but we left after I got back from Marty’s last indoor soccer game. The funeral wasn’t scheduled until 2 PM, and we got there well before 1:30 PM, so we had time to spare.
Here are the details for Gary’s funeral that I’ve been given:
The visitation starts on Saturday, March 8 at 11 AM, with the funeral to follow at 2 PM, at:
Haase-Derrick-Lockwood Funeral Home
800 Park Drive
Lake Geneva, WI 53147
(282) 248-2031
The funeral will follow at 2:00 PM. Word is there will be some kind of gathering afterward, perhaps at the Legion Hall where part of a couple of the earliest Gen Cons were held. (Gary founded Gen Con—my favorite event of the year—as well.)
I’m told it’s open to the public. Barring any disasters, I plan to be there. Anyone else?
I’ve just learned that Gary Gygax, one of the creators of Dungeons & Dragons and founders of its original publisher, TSR, died in his sleep Monday night. The guys at Troll Lord Games seem to have first posted about it, and I’ve verified it through my Alliterates pals.
I worked as a freelancer for Gary’s New Infinities Productions back when I was in college, and I visited their offices and his home and met his wife (Gail, his second) and kids. As a gamer still in school, it was an amazing thrill. After New Infinities went bust, though, we didn’t have much to say to each other for years, mostly over the money that the company ended up owing me and a number of my friends at the end.
When I saw Gary and Gail at one of the last Gen Cons in Milwaukee, though, I buried that hatchet and chatted with them for a while. It was wonderful. I’m lousy at holding grudges, it seems, and thankful for it.
I met Gary at my first gaming convention, the Winter Fantasy back in the winter of ‘81-’82. My mother—sweet and supportive woman that she is—brought me and my friends, and while I was busy playing my first game of Boot Hill with (now fellow Alliterate) Steve Winter, she chatted with one of the people running the show, telling him how much room for improvement the convention had. To my teenaged chagrin, this turned out to be Gary.
I saw him later that spring at a small convention right here in my hometown, at Beloit College. The team I was on won the D&D tournament held there, and the prize was a free charter membership in the RPGA, the magazine of which (The Polyhedron) later printed my first published piece of game design. At that show, I met Gary again, and he signed my Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Player’s Handbook. You can see the words he wrote in the image at the top of this post.
“Gary Gygax, Beloit, 1982.” You can pretty much chart my entire career from right there.
One of my last jobs with New Infinities was taking a crack at editing his Necropolis adventure and his book on how to run RPGs, Master of the Game. Neither saw print until years later, under different editors, but I remember the challenge of handling both Gary’s unique style and his position in the history of gaming. “He’s rejected the work of two other editors already,” Don Turnbull told me as he handed over Master of the Game. “Give it a shot?”
I hadn’t spoken with Gary in person for a few years when he died. He had a couple strokes back in 2004, and he’d not been in the best of health after that. He only lived about 45 minutes from where I am, but I never managed to get over that way. Now I’ll never have the chance.
I’d already planned to meet with the Midwestern Alliterates tonight for other reasons. We’ll be sure to raise a glass in Gary’s honor. He affected every one of our lives and careers, and it would truly have been a different world without him.
Ironically, today is GM’s Day. Do something good for your favorite Game Master in memory of the first.
Rest in peace, Gary. And thanks.
I voted this morning in the Presidential primaries here in Wisconsin. I had to register with the new address and vote at a different place, but in this state you can walk up and do so on the day of the polls and then vote right after. You can also vote for whoever you like, without having to be a registered member of any party.
Last night, Ann went to see Barack Obama speak while I sat home with the kids. I also watched after a nephew and niece, the kids of my step-brother Dan Schooff and his wife Alyssa Whitney. Alyssa served as treasurer for Governor Doyle’s first campaign, and Dan ran the campaign the last time around. Dan also served as our state assemblyman for six years, but he’s now the Deputy Secretary of the Wisconsin Department of Administration.
Dan managed to snag some VIP seats for himself and the ladies, so they got to sit only a few rows back from the stage in the Flood Arena at Beloit College. Ann called me up when Obama started to speak, and I listened to the entire speech over her cell phone.
While it was a strange way to join such an event, it reminded me of listening to an old speech broadcast over the radio. Here, in 2008, I experienced the speech much the way my grandparents would have listened to, say, FDR 70 years ago.
I’m excited about this election, and I hope you are too. No matter who you plan to vote for, get out and vote and be involved. If the last decade has shown us anything, it’s that politics really do matter.
If you live in Wisconsin, as I do, don’t forget we have a primary tomorrow, and get yourself down to the polls. If you’re paying any attention to the world at all, this would be difficult to miss, but it always bears repeating.
It’s great to have a close race still going on with the Democrats this late in the process, as it means we get candidates stumping around the place for our vote. Chelsea Clinton will be here at Beloit College this afternoon, and Barack Obama will visit the same venue later tonight. There’s talk that Hillary Clinton might show up tomorrow too. John McCain, meanwhile, tours the middle part of the state, and I’ve not heard any word about Mike Huckabee.
Most years, the slates have already been decided by now, and the closest we get to the candidates is watching them on TV. Seeing them in person gets everyone more jazzed up for the elections than ever.
We’re snowed in here again at Casa Forbeck today. The snow stopped last night, but the road teams didn’t seem to think they could get the roads clear in time for school, so Ann and the kids got a second impromptu day off in a row.
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I’m home today (like always, since I work here) with the wife and kids, enjoying another snow day. We’re supposed to have at least a foot of snow over the course of these 24 hours, including possible thundersnow.
Does that sound like a northern hero’s name or what? I saw lightning here during a snowstorm earlier in the year, flashing in the sky out back of my house. It seems so unnatural—this collision of distinct forms of weather—but there it is, happening anyhow.
What a wild world.
A while back (9/29/2006, to be exact), I wrote about a family friend, Steve Shea, whose wife Sallie had been diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis, a progressive lung disease, for which the only hope is a transplant.
They got the call today, and with any luck Sallie will be breathing easier by tomorrow. It’s major surgery, of course, so good vibes sent her way would be appreciated.
It’s a tragedy for someone else, of course, who once owned the lungs, but it’s a stellar example of how even in death we can find hope for life. I always keep the organ donor box on my driver’s license checked, and I hope you do too.
Friday afternoon, my father wore his judge’s robe for the first time. My 85-year-old grandmother flew out from Michigan to help him into it during his investiture ceremony.
My father’s 14 grandchildren sat in the jury box (which has 14 seats)—all except for his namesake (and my son) Kenny, who stayed home sick. His brother Patrick proudly carried Kenny’s framed photo around as a substitute. Dad gave a little speech, acknowledging his parents, his wife Nancy and each of his kids, including the steps (as I’ve called my step-siblings since even before my father and their mother married). Then he found and used his gavel for the first time to adjourn the event.
Afterward, we gathered for a reception at La Casa Grande in Beloit. My mother did me a huge favor by watching my kids (and a few extra to boot!), with help from Missy Henderson and Dana Bull-Beckwith.
Saturday morning, we woke up to find the event as front-page news in our local paper. We couldn’t be prouder of Dad, of course, and we think Rock County is as lucky to have him as a judge as we were to be his kids.
My son Marty has a good friend Thomas who now only lives three doors down from us in our new place. They’re both in third grade and Cub Scouts together, and Thomas often comes over to play games after school. Thomas calls today and says that he’s just found out that his cousin—actually his cousin’s husband—is a friend of mine, someone I’ve known for almost 20 years. He also mentions that his cousin’s family is on their way to his house right now and would like to stop over and say hi.
“Who’s your cousin?”
Could have knocked me flying with a feather.
Sure enough, a few hours later, Thomas and his family bring over Jordan, Dawn, and their three boys for a short, fun visit. The Weismans live in Seattle, of course, but they started out in Chicago and are back this way to visit relatives, including Thomas’s dad, a.k.a. Dawn’s uncle Rick. To cap it all off, it turns out that Rick works at the next desk over from Monica Valentinelli of Colonial Gothic and FlamesRising.com fame (among many other things).
It’s a nanoworld after all.
No matter where you are or what you’re doing, I’d like to wish you the happiest of holidays. Here at Casa Forbeck, we’re settled in for several days of Christmas with various family factions. I expect to eat and drink far too much and see face-splitting grins on many young faces. What a great way to wrap up a year.
Here’s to peace and joy for us all.
Erick Wujick is dying of cancer and apparently doesn’t have many days before him. In the tabletop games industry, we know him best as the creator of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Other Strangeness RPG and Amber Diceless Roleplaying. He’s spent the last few years in the computer gaming industry, currently with Totally Games. No matter where he’s been, though, he’s done great, groundbreaking work.
I only met Erick once, at a Greenfield Hobby Distributors open house back in the early ’90s. I was just starting out as a freelancer back then, and he had nothing but encouragement for me. He recommended I do something for his friends at Palladium, advice I never got around to executing, despite my respect for Kevin Siembieda and his crew there. He mentioned that the TMNT game had already financed a round-the-world trip for him, high praise from any freelancer.
He was warm and kind, and I wish our paths had managed to cross more often. Although we ran in similar circles, they rarely did. I’d hear about him through other mutual friends, though, and keep up with him that second-hand way.
Now, in roughly the same way, I learn he’s dying, and I barely know what to say. Fortunately, Kevin has set up a new ErickWujick.com website for me to give it a shot.
If Eric or his work touched your life in any way, please stop by that site and let him know that. In the end, these words may not be all that much, but they’re all we have.
Local businessman and philanthropist Ken Hendricks died this morning at the age of 66. Ken dropped out of high school to join his father’s roofing company, and he later built one of the largest roofing companies in the midwest. He sold that and started ABC Supply, which became the nation’s largest roofing supply company. This made him the wealthiest man in the area, by far.
Ironically, Ken died from a fall last night while inspecting new construction going on over his garage. The man had to have been on countless construction sites over the years, and he certainly knew how to handle himself around one. It seems a simple slip caused his end.
Those who visit this site regularly might recall that my wife Ann lost a childhood friend on New Year’s Day last year. Melissa Bessen slipped on the stairs in her apartment and died from the fall. The way her and Ken’s deaths mirror each other—both random acts taking their victims from us far too early—serves as a stark reminder of how short life can be and how lucky we each are to be able to cling to it and each other as long as we can.
In one sense, Ken was like Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life. He had a ton of money, and it sometimes seemed like he owned half the town. But he had George Bailey’s kind and generous heart, and he was well-loved for it.
Ken, along with his wife Diane, was a committed and involved citizen of Beloit and did a tremendous amount of good for countless people. He also pushed environmental responsibility, with green roofing research and projects, and he sponsored the nascent Beloit Film Festival among many other artistic endeavors. Although I’m sure Diane will soldier on without him—she’s a strong and kind woman who has my deepest sympathies for this tragic loss—Ken will be impossible to replace. Beloit never knew another man like him and probably never will again.
The Stateline News (our local freebie/shopper newspaper) ran a front-page article in Sunday’s edition about my father’s appointment to the Rock County Circuit Court. (Ignore the erroneous caption under the photo.) They called me up for a few pithy quotes, which I was proud to supply. As I said (with all appropriate bias):
“I think he’s the best person for the job, and I’m glad the governor agreed,” Matt Forbeck said. “I think he’s going to be a fantastic judge.”
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