The Viking and the Fish: Remembering Gary Gygax
As most of the gaming world and world beyond gaming learned that our esteemed friend Gary Gygax passed away in the early morning hours of Tuesday, March 4th, 2008. News of his passing spread like wildfire throughout the gaming community and by the day of his funeral on Saturday there had been 180,000 page views on our publisher Troll Lord Games message boards. Many left condolences to his family. People from throughout the world shared their fondness for the RPG phenomenon that he helped father into existence. Most wished to thank Gary for the times they shared, the life long friends they had made, marriages that had been forged, and children born simply from gathering at a table with friends, snacks and funny dice.
It is true that Gary was a force to be reckoned with; a mercurial personality with an unbounded imagination who was never afraid to speak his mind. Some gamers found his brand and style of gaming abrasive, some found it downright offensive. Others have for years relished his style, and felt that something was lost from RPGs first, when he parted ways with TSR in the mid eighties, and again when he passed from this life to the next.
I prefer to remember him as the man he was. Although I was not as close to Gary as my friend and publisher Steve Chenault, or the many life-long friends he made over the years, I remember this tale the most.
I first met Gary without even knowing that the man who had co-created, and spurred forward the game which occupied so much of my childhood when on a fishing trip with my parents, my dad relented and allowed a brief stop to the Dungeon Hobby Shop in Lake Geneva on our way to Kenosha.
I was about 11, and way into D&D. I was also of good Iowegian stock and very into Vikings. I wanted a cool Ral Partha Viking miniature to represent one of my characters. A bearded, dark haired fellow of broad shoulders and thick eyeglasses was working behind the counter, and my dad nudged me forward to tell the man what I was looking for. I told the gentlemen what I wanted, and he smiled a bright smile, eyes twinkling behind his lenses as he led me over to the immense rack of miniatures. “I think young man, that this is exactly what you are looking for!” he said with his deeply unique voice.
“Totally,” or something like it was what I managed to say. I payed for the miniature with my own money and held it tight the entire time. Not suspecting that the guy who picked out my new character fig was indeed Gary Gygax.
Later in the trip, I realized who had sold me the miniature, on a shopping excursion to Milwaukee. There at a bookshop, was a picture of the very same man, next to the selection of Dungeons & Dragons books, and there was going to be a book signing the next day. Holy Crap! Gary Gygax sold me a miniature.
About 18 years later our paths crossed again at Gen Con 2001 in Milwaukee, where Steve Chenault introduced us. “By the way,” Steve whispered as Gary was politely listening to some kid go on about his player character, “Just call him Gary, he HATES being called Mr. Gygax.”
I got it! I mean, if it weren’t for Gary, I wouldn’t be standing here waiting to talk to Gary! I wouldn’t be writing RPG books, or even be at Gen Con! There wouldn’t be a Gen Con! Call him Gary… Got it!
So when it was my turn to bug the old man, instead of talking about my character or getting all weird about how much his games and adventures had shaped my life, I said “Hey Gary, I know you don’t remember this, but years ago when I was a boy, you sold me a Viking miniature at the Dungeon Hobby shop…” and went on for a minute relating my memory of the tale.
Gary smiled to me and said, “Hmm, Ernie must have been at the post office that day. You have a really good memory! I don’t blame your dad for being in a rush though. When the lakers are biting, you’ve gotta go fish.”
That was Gary.
We had many more meetings over the years, where he would ply us with Mountain Dew, puns, great meals, dirty jokes, and voluminous knowledge on a variety of topics. Often, the last thing we talked about was gaming. When talk did turn to gaming, and I needed advice on something, his sooth was always incisive, direct, and thoughtful.
Still, in his passing, it’s the story about the fish and the Viking that I like to share best. By the way, of all the treasures from my childhood, I still have that fig.
Casey W. Christofferson |
