He was a Friend of Boz …and a friend of mine.
Long Time Readers may remember my old friend John Bosley, who I called Jawn, and in return he dubbed me Arcie, which has survived in my main email address since. John, who wrote the Introduction to the first True book, died in 2014 from a heart attack.
In March 1996, not quite two years after starting True, I went to Washington D.C. to visit John. He didn’t have room to put me up, so he told me he had arranged for me to stay at a good friend’s house, and that’s how I met Dave Staudt.
I was of course pretty apprehensive about showing up at a stranger’s house to say “Hi, I’m your houseguest for the next several days, nice to meet you,” but Dave was so welcoming and kind that we became instant friends. We both probably thought, “A friend of Boz is a friend of mine.”
NSF
Dave was winding up his 31-year career at the National Science Foundation. One of his last tasks at NSF was to help promote the commercial use of the Internet, so he was fascinated to learn what I was doing with This is True.
Dave was so excited to get the details about an Internet-first business, one that even pre-dated Amazon. It was music to his ears to hear my plans to leave NASA’s Jet Propulsion Lab within a few months, move away from California to reduce my temptation to give up easily and go back to working there, and work full-time online from Boulder, Colorado.
When True’s Premium edition debuted in early 1997, Dave was among the first to send a check. (Yes, a check! I didn’t even have a shopping cart back then.)
Trading Visits
Once fully retired, Dave’s marriage fell apart, and he left D.C. He ended up in Ventura, Calif., and once I had met Kit, we visited him there. He loved living in the fruit basket of California — lots of produce is grown in the area. As we talked, he was eating wedges of fresh oranges …by popping the entire wedge into his mouth and chewing them up. Skin and all. I had never before (or since) seen anyone eat oranges that way, but he did!
He visited us in Boulder, and in 2010 he moved “back home” to where he was born, Tulsa, Oklahoma. I vaguely recall that he was out of town when Kit and I visited Tulsa once, when we went there to visit one of my JPL colleagues, Donna, who moved there when she retired.
After we moved to the rural western part of the state, Dave came out and visited there, too, bringing his partner from Tulsa, Mieke. Dave talked often of wanting to make the drive out again, but never quite got the plans together. Early last year I noticed when he let his Premium run out. Messages went unanswered, so I sent a note to Mieke. She replied that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and had been moved to Memory Care.
On Saturday I got a text from Kit (yeah, Telegram is the method of choice for us to chat between our ship cabin and my office): “Dave Staudt’s memorial service was yesterday.” She had spotted Dave’s niece’s posting on Facebook about it.
Damn.
I did some searches and found that Dave died on September 17. I quickly sent a note of condolence to Mieke, and heard back from her Sunday morning. “He was indeed a terrific guy,” she agreed, “who handled [Alzheimer’s] disease masterfully.” Yep, that’s Dave all right.
She said that with his death, she had moved into a retirement center, and connected with a fellow resident there that also reads True — my friend Donna.
It’s a small world, and when you open yourself to it, you can find some truly wonderful friends.
David Allison Staudt was 88.
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Please, no Condolences in Comments: my life was enriched by Dave, so I’d much rather hear about one of your great friends this story reminds you of. Or, certainly, if you happen to have known Dave, tell that story in the comments!
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I loved Dave the moment I met him. He indeed was a warm, welcoming man. He opened his circle of friends to include me. He was a gracious host during our Ventura visit, and he was a gracious guest during his visit to our mesa home.
During that visit, he went looking for projects to tend to around our house. I remember him climbing up a ladder to repair the dome in the yurt. He drilled little holes in the plexiglass so he could glue the ends of the cracks that formed and were slowly running. His attention to detail helped the dome last for the duration of our ownership — 22 years of service for us.
May his memory ever be a blessing.
Wow! Another connection to Jawn!! What a treat! Thank you for the smile.
That friend you are going to see one of these days when all the plans line up neatly?
Make the messy plans to see them this year. There may not be a next year.
This story reminds me of my best friend, Chris H. I believe he would have given his life for me. He was instrumental in me meeting my wife Helga on his sister’s birthday, October 7, 2004. Chris passed away on July 17, 2009 when he wrecked his Harley Davidson motorcycle which I had GIVEN him. May he rest in peace along with Dave. We will see both of them in Heaven in the future.
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There’s no good way to lose a good friend. -rc
Good friends who make sure that you meet their other good friends, so that you can all be friends together, are the absolute greatest.
Dave Staudt was my grandfather. I have read quite a few stories that recall him fondly and I am grateful for the impact he had on others. Thank you guys for your notes, they make me happy. Miss you Grandpa see you soon.
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Glad you found this and can send it to your family. Dave was a good man. -rc