The following are emails/messages I've received to be added to the guestbook. Please remember that you can email me any comments/pictures/etc that you'd like to be added here to: michaela@thesilicondragon.com or by ICQ (UIN 278071). (Please do not message me comments on the IRC. They'll most likely be looked over.) Thanks to everyone who has submitted comments and memories here.

It's a bit strange to realize that someone that I've known for a number of years -- someone younger than me -- has passed on. In his life, though, Chris was a better person than I can hope to be.

Having met Chris briefly in person a year or so ago, I can wholeheartedly say that the world is a slightly dimmer place without his presence, and I regret not knowing him better. But I subscribe to that philosophy depicted so well in a certain Barenaked Ladies song, "I'm the kind of guy that would laugh at a funeral." I think Chris would want us all to enjoy the holidays remembering the good things about his life rather than dwelling on his absence.

My heart goes out to Chris's family and close friends. May his memory bring you happiness in the days to come even though his physical presence no longer can.

Steve Doyle
"ZenShadow"
Undernet operator and semi-official troublemaker
steve@doyle.net

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Hey,
This is TerraByte from Undernet, #Wasteland. Jonathan Disher (Jonafun) just told me what happened. I really don't know what to say, it was a shock to hear. I just want to express my condolences to everyone else who knew Chris.

-Jeff
Goatbert on AIM/IRC, Formerly TerraByte
jfield@newsforge.com

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After knowing Chris for a couple of years through the IRC medium.. I always found him to a be a very helpful person with subjects that he had knowledge of.. which were very many. He was quite unique and an extremely intelligent individual with great potential to do many great things in life. Not to mention, he was a very congenial and friendly person to all those around him. He will be missed greatly, and my heart and prayers go out to his family and friends.

Wes Oden
djwesoden@yahoo.com

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     I waited this long before posting something, because I was not entirely sure what I wanted to say. I was honestly too baffled to fully deal with what has happened in a more than ceremonial or 'correct' way. Now, having returned from Boston, I feel that I can adequately express myself without sounding too much the fool.

     "Hey Shawn. Pat, Bosse and I are going over to the Fox and Hound with Chris and Andrea. Would you like to join us?"

     "Yo...Shawn. Pat, Bosse and I are going over to Chris and Andrea's tonight. We're going to have a drink or two and watch some movies. Care to join?"

     These are invitations that I heard from Ed a fair number of times over the past year or two, and more often than not, I declined them. If you know me, then you know how hectic and crazy my life is. People have often said that I know everyone in western Pennsylvania and parts of Ohio and New York, and my free time both here at home in Pittsburgh and up at school in Erie is often taken up with one or many of the myriads of people I know; I declined these invitations seven times out of ten, because I figured, "Chris and Andrea will be around for a good long while. There will always be time to see them when things are not so busy for me. I can make more time for them later."

     If only I had known.

     Before Chris first came down to Pittsburgh, I used to talk with him extensively over the internet. He and I had many similar experiences socially, and we often connected on the same wavelength when it came to things happening to us in life. We both were often not very pleased with the way things were going in our lives, but pleased enough that we could see to when things would be better. I suppose it would be five years or so now that I have known him. Perhaps six or so. He had a perspective on life that was very close to mine, but he was an uninvolved party to whom I could come for advice -- advice I might have given myself, had I not been to close to the problem to see it. He was a wealth of interesting conversation topics. I was so very pleased when he came down to live among us.

     He had moved in with Joe. The two of them had this hole-in-the-wall apartment that, while there were no rats, and the door had a lock that worked, was still very much an apartment that screamed "two single men live here. Enter and walk at your own risk." It was not a bad place, and they managed to make it homey for themselves.

     We were always over there. Ed and myself, of course. Various others. "Hey, let's go over to Joe and Chris'" was the cry. We all would hang out and have a good time.

     Then things became more serious with Joe and his girlfriend Dawn, and things between Chris and Andrea were just as, if not more, serious, and suddenly Joe and Chris had a difficult time seeing eye to eye. They still cared about one another, sure, but certain things were causing difficulties. So they went their seperate ways.

     I spent a lot of time with Ed, because he lives so very close to me, and I spent a lot of time with Joe, still, because he and I had a strange bond developed during high school, and naturally I still saw Chris and Andrea, but not nearly as much as I used to (or would have liked.) The two of them went to my high school prom with me. Them, and another friend of ours and his date from high school. If you look at the pictures of the six of us, we all look so happy and carefree. It was such a pleasant evening. Andrea looked fabulous in her dress, and Chris was smashing in is tuxedo. I think we all still have the pictures. When they were taken, we were outside, and the sun was shining bright, and Chris had that trademark smile of his.

     That smile of his.

     You have never seen that man without his smile.

     If he was sad or angry, it was still present, but it was a sad or angry smile, and it still kind of made you want to smile too. But when he was happy, watch out! When he was just coasting along for a while in life, and when he was simply happy with the way things were going, or the current instant, he had a smile that just made you want to grin and laugh, and pat him on the back and tell stories that everyone could enjoy. He would talk and laugh and listen and become so enthusiastic about whatever it was he was doing that you would have to be inhuman if you did not have the irresistable urge to talk and laugh and listen along with him.

     His smile was infectious.

     Chris himself, truly, was like the colorful bird that made our own dull, drab surroundings that much more bearable.

     This past weekend, I was part of the group that travelled to Boston. In between the viewings, I went back with the others of our group to Andrea's place for a luncheon before we would return to the parlor. Her house was packed. There was the party we had brought from Pittsburgh, Andrea's family, Andrea's extended family, and their animals. The house was decorated wonderfully. There was Christmas music on, ever so faintly, and the television was on, but muted. There was plenty of food and drink. I was standing in the living room next to Tony and Tim, and Ed was standing off to one side. The furniture was full of our friends and some of Andrea's family.

     I turned to Tim and said, "You know, Tim, we're here, and Andrea's family is here, and there is plenty of food and drink, and the atmosphere is almost pleasant. Almost everyone is here. It is the holiday season here in beautiful Boston, and almost everyone is here. It would be an absolutely wonderful holiday celebration, but we're missing someone..."

     I had to stop, as my mood had turned very, very sour, and I found it difficult to finish the last few words, and I noticed that everyone around me was nodding in agreement while reaching for kleenex or handkerchiefs. It would have been a perfect moment, but someone vital was missing.

     Why is it that we never really had such a perfect gathering before? Sure, we had the bash over the summer, but it wasn't the same. It was just a party, and sure people had a good time, but it was not something into which everyone had put their heart.

     Chris is a good man -- a strong man -- with a heart of pure gold. I am proud and honored to have known him as I did. My only regret is not accepting Ed's invitation to join them more often than I did.

     In the past year or so, I was not as close with him as I used to be, but I still cared deeply for him, and thought highly of him.

     Goodbye, Chris. And Godspeed.

Shawn R. FitzGerald
srf136@psu.edu

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