connecting*the*dots

When I checked my mail the other day and saw a note from Ethan Zuckerman, a smile instantly came to my face. While at Tripod, Ethan radiated a whirlwind of energy and smart ideas constantly spilling out of his large frame and bare feet. Ethan was, and still is, good people. And then I read the email.

Dick Sabot, Ethan’s mentor and my indirect benefactor (without Dick, Tripod would never have been born), had passed suddenly due to a heart attack. My heart dropped a few inches in my chest. While I can’t say I had the pleasure to work closely or develop a strong personal relationship with Dick, the man was inspiring on numerous levels.

More than anything, I remember Dick as a generous person. I can’t tell you how many times he opened his Oblong Road home to "the kids" of Tripod (we were all 20 - 35 years old, living and working in a 3,000 person town with a limited social scene), throwing pool parties and backyard barbeques. And while Dick was refined, he was also extremely laid back. I like to remember him standing poolside donning his casual afternoon attire, enjoying a refreshing drink while two 28 year-old developers chased each other in dripping wet swimsuits, just missing knocking him and his non-Tripod guests over. The non-Tripod folks’ expression dipped for a few seconds; Dick just smiled and continue his conversation.

This weekend, a bunch of ex-Tripoders are migrating up to Williamstown to pay their respects, sampling a tasting of Cricket Creek Cheese, Dick’s most recent entrepreneurial project, and holding a gathering in the muddy fields of a nearby meadow. While Tripod will be remembered by outsiders as the first homepage building and community service, this weekend is an example of the real community aspect of my Tripod experience.

My condolences to the Sabot family; blood and otherwise.