Our sincere condolences go out to Gretchen and her family. We pray for the strength for you to sustain during this difficult time.

Aphasia Associates is sorrowing with you.

From Gordon:

Sam was my youngest brother, and although he didn’t dress or talk or behave like me or any of my friends, he had a truly magical ability to immediately delight and win over all kinds of people in all kinds of situations, just by being so genuine and hilarious.

It didn’t matter what kind of crowd I brought him around: anarchists, builders, punk rockers, whatever- he would show up and get to work on whatever needed to be done, he would start cracking people up and causing general delight, and by the time a few hours had passed, everyone would love him so much that you’d have though he was THEIR little brother too. He had that effect on people.

He was a human cannonball of silly comedic energy. He never shrank from hard work, he was brave and fierce in standing by what he knew to be right, he was humble and kind down to his bones, and he could walk right up to any musical instrument you can think of and play the hell out of it, with no apparent effort. He was one in a billion, and what we lost when he left us is incalculable. 

Sam and I used to play a lot of Stratego, a board game in which your soldiers attack those of your opponent, one at a time. The highest-ranking soldier wins. It's a simple game involving no luck; it is won or lost based on your pre-game planning.

The first (maybe second) time we played, Sam was 9 and I was 36. He won. That wasn't a huge shock -- he was a very bright kid.

The shocking part was revealed in the post-game examination of each other's strategies. Sam had hidden his marshal --  the highest-ranking piece of them all -- in his back row, surrounded by his own, immovable bombs. The marshal was safe, to be sure, but could never leave his spot unless I'd tripped one of those bombs, which didn't happen.

At one-quarter my age, the boy had beaten me -- without the use of his best piece.