Leo died.
I got an e-mail from Nancy on Saturday letting me know that he had passed away in June. She, naturally, was too out of it to get around to sending an e-mail sooner.
I first met Leo in 1985 at Noesis Computing Company. He was an old-school nerd, with long hair and a beard, spending late nights upstairs in the programmer's area writing code. I heard rumours that he kept a tie in a drawer, in case he needed to meet with a picky client, but I don't think I ever saw it. Leo wasn't interested in appearances; he was into getting the job done.
I got to work with him again at Aetna Health Plans and at Benson Software. At Aetna, there wasn't a whole lot of work to do, so we spent a lot of time talking. Turns out he was a conservative, and registered as a republican. I, of course, was ultra-liberal, and registered as a democrat. And yet, somehow we managed to agree on most everything.
He started programming -- literally -- before I was born. He got started in 1960 on an IBM 1401, and he had gozillians of stories to tell, both about the early days and about life in general. We both enjoyed the outdoors, guns, and fast cars. The Internet was just beginning to get noticed, and we speculated long and hard about its possibilities. We talked of new technologies and science fiction.
Best of all, we talked about our shared interest -- sailing and Land Rovers. He and Nancy were getting the boat they lived on ready for an around-the-world cruise, and Leo kept up on all the latest technology, tools, and gadgets that West Marine (where Nancy worked) offered to make life living in such cramped quarters, in isolated, potentially dangerous conditions, easier, safer, and more enjoyable. Much of this applied equally well to living in a Land Rover, in isolated, potentially dangerous situations.
Of all the people I've known since getting involved with Land Rovers, I think Leo was the only non-rover-owner that really got it.
Technically, Leo was a legend, being just about the best COBOL programmer I knew. I actually interviewed him for the Analytical Engine, the newsletter of the Computer History Association of California. He was equally adept at Powerhouse, a 4GL we both worked with, and probably dozens of other languages. Many of the tools I use on a daily basis were written or tweaked by Leo.
One time, when we were both working at Benson Software Systems, Leo told me as I entered the office, that we were going to have to get our hair cut -- He had just read in the wall street journal that ponytails were now trendy.
The last time I saw Leo was at my wedding. He was actually wearing a tie -- which looked very out of place. Nancy had made him wear it. (My mother-in-law wouldn't let me put "clothing optional" on the invitations.) He was looking good, as was Nancy. Leo actually had a lot to do with finally deciding to get married. He used to joke that he liked being married so much, he did it three times.
It was just a joke, though. Leo and Nancy really were made for each other. One time, someone asked Leo if he was coming to the Benson christmas party. He answered, "No, Nancy has to work." Pretty much, aside from work, they didn't go places without one another. It wasn't a sappy kind of thing, or even a sign of insecurity; they just weren't whole when they were apart.
Ever since the wedding, I had wanted to get together with Leo and Nancy, but never really got the chance. I didn't want to be rude and invite myself out for a cruise on the boat, and of course, life has a way of providing use with an excuse for laziness. And now it's too late.
Well, Leo is not gone. He lives on in my memory, and in the skills that he taught me over the years. He will always be my favorite wooden indian. The relationship that he and Nancy had, and their shared vision for their future remains an inspiration.