Michael Bard
Writer and convention staffer Michael Bard died early this morning.
A couple of weekends ago I went to the first year convention Furnal Equinox up in Toronto. It was one of these things that just sort of came together without a lot of pre-planning-- some friends were going to be there and had some roomspace, I found a decently priced flight, so without having intended to go to another convention this spring, I found myself with travel plans. I'd barely bought my plane tickets and hadn't even gotten around to registering for the convention yet when I was contacted about what panels I'd be willing to participate in. That was Michael Bard's doing.
While for years Michael and I have shared both close friends and common interests, I have to admit that for most of that time our direct interaction was few and far between, and too much of it was concerned with the minutiae of con programming and scheduling. Honesty compels me to admit that we managed to irk each other from time to time as a result. That being said, I was fortunate enough to have some really good conversations with Michael in the run up to FE, and talking with Michael at the con was one of the things that made the weekend a very positive experience for me.
Michael had put a lot into his duties planning and staffing FE, and while I felt bad that he got hit with a bad stomach bug halfway through the convention that confined him to his hotel room and limited his enjoyment of the convention he'd worked so hard on, when we last talked on Sunday evening at con he was clearly very happy, high on the feeling of having been a part of putting together a successful event that a lot of us find so addictive. It's hard not to like someone who can be cheerful about a job well done and higher than expected attendance numbers when he's barely stopped throwing up.
The word came out this past Sunday night that on the Friday after con Michael had had a stroke while at work, and wasn't found until the end of his shift. Over the past few days I've hoped and hurt along with old friends and those I'd fallen out of touch with, and have been struck by both the breadth and depth of the impact Michael had on the many people who knew him. I've been told that his family had worried that he was a lonely guy without many friends. I hope that the outpouring of love from friends and readers of his work from across multiple continents eases their grief a little with the knowledge that they needn't have worried about that.
A couple of weekends ago I went to the first year convention Furnal Equinox up in Toronto. It was one of these things that just sort of came together without a lot of pre-planning-- some friends were going to be there and had some roomspace, I found a decently priced flight, so without having intended to go to another convention this spring, I found myself with travel plans. I'd barely bought my plane tickets and hadn't even gotten around to registering for the convention yet when I was contacted about what panels I'd be willing to participate in. That was Michael Bard's doing.
While for years Michael and I have shared both close friends and common interests, I have to admit that for most of that time our direct interaction was few and far between, and too much of it was concerned with the minutiae of con programming and scheduling. Honesty compels me to admit that we managed to irk each other from time to time as a result. That being said, I was fortunate enough to have some really good conversations with Michael in the run up to FE, and talking with Michael at the con was one of the things that made the weekend a very positive experience for me.
Michael had put a lot into his duties planning and staffing FE, and while I felt bad that he got hit with a bad stomach bug halfway through the convention that confined him to his hotel room and limited his enjoyment of the convention he'd worked so hard on, when we last talked on Sunday evening at con he was clearly very happy, high on the feeling of having been a part of putting together a successful event that a lot of us find so addictive. It's hard not to like someone who can be cheerful about a job well done and higher than expected attendance numbers when he's barely stopped throwing up.
The word came out this past Sunday night that on the Friday after con Michael had had a stroke while at work, and wasn't found until the end of his shift. Over the past few days I've hoped and hurt along with old friends and those I'd fallen out of touch with, and have been struck by both the breadth and depth of the impact Michael had on the many people who knew him. I've been told that his family had worried that he was a lonely guy without many friends. I hope that the outpouring of love from friends and readers of his work from across multiple continents eases their grief a little with the knowledge that they needn't have worried about that.