I've known Dave Fisher since 1970, when Dave introduced me to roleplaying games. We first met in school (and later at the CEGEP that I attended in Montréal). A small group of us would get together and play a game that one of the folks called "Laertia." It was a world and a set of rules that Dave had created, since he was fond of a set of sf and fantasy books that he had read once, and he wanted to play in that world. In 1974, David picked up and showed me a copy of the game that later became the major fantasy rpg of the day, Chainmail . I was enthralled by the game, and took it up myself and started to run my first campaign; I switched to the Dungeons and Dragons game when that came out in late 1974 or early 1975. If not for Dave Fisher, I would probably have discovered roleplaying games much later than I did.
I lost touch with Dave for quite a few years, when he moved to England as part of his job in the teaching field. Yes, Dave was a teacher, and England was where he met Debbie. They were a terrific couple, and I really liked them a lot. Dave and I were able to talk to each other once in a while, and we'd pick up almost right from when we left off. They moved to Denver in 1994, Dave having accepted a teaching position there, and the two of them never returned east. We spoke every half-year or so, but I got e-mail from Dave on a constant basis after 1996 (when I finally got a home computer), and never lost touch after that.
Dave Fisher was my age, and he lived a full life. He had a joie de vivre that I've only known in a few people, and that I wished I had myself. Nothing ever got Dave down, and he'd be proud that his two kids, Megan and Philip, are both capable young adults.
I've been thinking about this ever since I got up this morning, and Dave's death has made me realise my own mortality. Sure, I've known people and family members who've died in the past, but this one really is close to the vest here... Dave and I were friends, of the same age, and... Damn. His death has given me a lot of things to think about, notably my lifestyle and the fact that I am aging. And the fact that I need to make the most of my life from this point on. A lot of stuff going through my head right now. Damn.
May the Goddess bless you with peace and joy, and may She offer you a carefree resting place.
Rest in Peace, Dave. Goddess Bless.