This web site is dedicated to our friend Gary Brickman, who passed away on June 26, 2000. Collected Memories… remberances from various contributors Jim Hanks: A Couple Glimpses with The Brickboy I knew Gary for only four years. I think I first saw him at a coffee shop. Later, he came to my house for a party. But the first time we had a chance to talk outside of the usual formalities was when I ran into him on the street. Although Gary and I were together in numerous places, a month after his death--for some reason--crossing streets is one of the ways I remember Gary most vividly. Perhaps it's because the scene always seemed to progress in the same fashion. My indecisiveness, his hands' expressiveness, and the slight rise of the centers of streets would always bring us to a halt. Then, traffic would honk, Gary would flip them the finger (while adding a "Fuck you!" without breaking our conversation), and then--very very casually--we'd proceed across the street. Years into our friendship, this scene was still common when we went for breakfast. During these meals, we discussed a lot of things: meeting boys, our careers, whether or not the busboy was cute, what to order, whether or not the waiter was cute, what was wrong with our meal, whether or not the busboy was cute ("You don't think he's cute?" "Gary, he's all of fifteen." "But he's cute!"). And then, of course, the topics would turn to the very lewd. But amidst these diversions Gary was also able to impart a lot of his wisdom. And during one of these early afternoons is the moment that's strongest in my memories of Gary. It was one of those moments when you realize why good friends are so important. Most honest people can say that they sometimes see pivotal omissions in the psyche of acquaintances. Crucial ideas that, for whatever reason, the person is just not getting. And often--out of competitiveness or because we believe the proper moment is never there--we don't help. Gary was never this type of person. During our conversation, without pause, Gary was able to pinpoint a problem I was having and relay it in a direct way that caused not defensiveness but pure revelation. At the memorial service, as people told their stories, I became sorry that I didn't have more time with Gary. There were many places our friendship hadn't yet reached. But I was happy to find out that so many others had experienced similar moments with a truly generous guy. - - - - - Ken Brickman Gary had a great sense of humor. One afternoon, Gary and I were "walking" on the Cal Berkeley campus. He was in an electric wheel chair. He turned to me and said "Hey Ken, do you want to race?" I came to San Francisco with my 3 month old son. Like all parents, I was a pack mule, with all of the gear… the diaper bag, car seat, backpack full of toys. I was pretty stressed struggling with all of the stuff and the baby. Gary and I met on the street outside of his apartment. He immediately offered assistance. He strapped my bags on his chair and put the car seat on his lap. Everything was fine. Gary was assisting me. I reflected upon the irony of the situation. Here I was, an able bodied person a little inconvienced for a few minutes of my life… and Gary made everything OK. - - - - - Lynn Nudelman Villagran I lived in the Los Altos Hills home with Gary, Daniel, Linder and the gang in the early 70's. Joe Becker's story of Gary trying to run over his cat in his wheelchair made me laugh, and reminded me of Gary scooting himself along the floor in the large livingroom as a child, oblivious to the enormous size of the two Great Danes in the house. Occasionally, however, one or both of the Danes would suddenly go racing across the living room, and a very brief look of terror would come across Gary's face. Then he would quickly regain his composure, and then go back about his business. - - - - - Jeff Pelline, Executive Editor, CNET News.com I first met Gary about four years ago, when he tried to recruit me to join Techweb. I had been in my last job (at the Chronicle) for a decade and had just joined Cnet, so I wasn’t ready to jump ship. But I admired Gary’s competitive spirit, and we immediately struck up a friendship. We used to meet for dinner at the Balboa Cafe in the Marina to b.s. Gary joked that only a half a pint of beer would fill him up, but he always drank the whole thing. I admired the way Gary handled his disability. It was invisible to him. He would navigate the floor at trade shows as well, or better, than anyone else. And he’d do the same navigating traffic in the Marina “triangle.” The last time I saw Gary was at Houston’s restaurant in SF. I was inside and he was headed down the sidewalk talking to this man who was having a hard time keeping up. I waved, but he didn’t see me. He was too engrossed in the coversation. That’s why I was so shocked to hear of Gary’s passing. I thought he’d go on forever. I will miss him a lot. - - - - - Bryce Felperin I knew Gary in the mid 70's. At that time he and my sister Leslie used to hang out together and compete to see who saw Star Wars the most. Many a dinner party and time I had with him during that time. I lost track of him in the 80's and 90's with an exception of a brief contact on two occasions. He still remembered me and had a good smile for me when we met. Many a time I used to listen to his very sharp wit and humor in my youth and envy his good humor and vitality. I used to think that even though God handicapped him, he still was making a good life for himself. He was inspiration for all who knew him and a very good man. Rest in peace Gary, the world is smaller place with your loss. - - - - - John Frook I was co-author of Gary’s first published article. Gary and I met through a mutual friend, Finn Taylor. After a day at Santa Anita — where I’ll never forget Gary struggling to get out of his wheelchair to watch the stakes race on the finish line at the rail — he announced plans to move from television into print. After talking up Interactive Age, where I was a reporter, Gary made his introduction to founding editor David Klein and was assigned a story on VRML. Over the years, we had our differences. But Gary never forgot that he and I shared the work on his first story, and never let me forget it. Today, I’m better for the experience of having known you, Mr. Brickman. - - - - - Rich Karpinsky The IAD time were too tumultous to really enjoy, that’s too bad. I stumbled upon a piece of the redesigned site a few weeks ago that someone had mirrored. Gary and I didn’t see much of each other once he went to TechWeb and after that, but we had a nice (as it turns out final) meeting last year at Internet World. We went to the Rob Glaser keynote together, and Rob mentioned Gary from the stage. It was nice to see the work he had been doing. - - - - - Joe Becker I thought Gary was great, despite the fact that the last time he was over at my house, he kept trying to run over my cat with his wheelchair. I suppose we loved him because he kept trying to run over our cats with his wheelchair. In particular, one time he said he had gone to park his van somewhere, only to find the only ‘Handicapped’ parking space occupied by a car without a ‘Handicapped’ sign. His comment said it all: “If I weren’t handicapped, I’d be just the kind of non-handicapped guy who parks in ‘Handicapped’ spaces!” Gary Brickman, 1997   » home