and Words
Lost in the sky
Clouds roll by and I roll with them
Arrows fly
Seas increase and then fall again
This world is spinning around me
This world is spinning without me
And every day sends future to past
Every breath leaves me one less to my last
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
One of the most distinctive offices in the team belonged to Curtis. First, the lights barely illuminated anything in this room, if they were turned on at all. Second, about half a dozen plants thrived at different key locations in this office; it had a jungle-like ambiance. Additionally, a set of Space Muffins MIDI drums sat on the corner opposite the desk. Next, within arm’s reach sat a set of over-the-ears headphones and an array of Vic Firth drumsticks. Finally, a compact stereo played music astonishingly loudly for its size and the music played from CD’s that lined each of the desk’s drawers.
At least two computers sat in this office. The secondary computer ran test code used for verification; we configured it differently. Conversely, the primary computer was a more powerful 386 computer with a primary monitor, an amber monitor used to run the debugger, and a debug terminal connected through a serial cable for diagnostic messages like “Fatal Exit Code”.
This was Curtis’s office circa 1992. Curtis was a prototypical Windows developer and is probably the closest fit to a technical mentor than I ever had a Microsoft, though honestly, I think he’d be embarrassed to admit it. I started as a software test engineer; I had passion but little practical knowledge. That is, it could’ve been trivially simple for him to dismiss my role of one of a test engineer. However, he never did.
He patiently drew on the whiteboards. He filled elaborate details on how the processor accessed memory in both real, standard, and enhanced modes. Curtis outlined in block diagrams and numbers how the intricate math worked between the pointer that you’d use in code and the physical address in memory. As I looked out the window, the sky was pitch black as we discussed the mechanics of it all into the night; he was in no hurry to go home (or continue his work) until it was all perfectly clear in my mind.
He had a stuffed gray bunny in his office that he simply called “Bunny”. The designated place for Bunny was next to the monitor on his desk. You’ll occasionally see him wondering the building with Bunny. This was just a Curtis-ism. I believed that it had sentimental value, but he never told that story.
He told the story of Microsoft recruiting talking to him on the phone when he was still in college, eager to convince him to accept the offer and join the company. He seemed irritated to even have that conversation. The recruiter finally asked him point blank, “What would it take to get you to accept the offer?” In classic Curtis-like fashion his response was, “Well, I could use a Diet Coke right about now.” That recruiter shipped him a case of Diet Coke overnight. That amused him so much that he accepted the offer.
For a few months our building had a parking shortage. We’d often have to circle and wander around for fifteen minutes to find a parking spot. On one Monday morning, someone sends an angry e-mail to everyone in the building. He is absolutely livid that someone double parked their [describe car] in the parking lot at a time of such a parking shortage. Curtis calmly responds and apologizes, “I’m sorry, there was plenty of parking when I got here… on Saturday.” That e-mail thread went eerily quiet after that.
Curtis and I worked on the same component and spent hours working together. For some stretch of time, we even started working on 36-hour cycles. We’d each stay awake working for 24 hours and subsequently sleep for 12 hours. Our sleep cycles were normally offset. I’d be starting my long work shift as he ended his and vice versa. It was incredibly efficient and absolutely insane. I can’t comprehend how we did it, but we did.
We spent hours developing code together. Curtis typed in darkness save for the glow emitted from his CRT monitor; I sat next to him and watched. We brainstormed ideas and approaches. As they took shape, we developed them into working code. Lastly, we debugged it, stepped through it one line at a time. Studying someone while they skillfully debug is a humbling experience. It’s an art; it’s like listening to someone pick up your guitar and play music in a way that you can barely comprehend. Coding with Curtis was often like that.
During one especially intense coding session, we worked while we listened to music in his office. He played this album, “Images and Words” by Dream Theater and played it from the beginning. It all started with this particular song “Pull Me Under.” This was my first time listening to this band and it’s a wondrous and wonderful experience. I was torn between listening to the music and paying attention to our task.
Then the song abruptly stops, almost mid-note. At first, I was surprised and wondered if there was something wrong. Moments later, the next track “Another Day” starts; that’s when I grew annoyed. I vented to Curtis. “Why???” He urged me to stay focused and promised me to finish the track for me. We soldiered on and finished our task.
Months later Curtis left Microsoft to run his own company and moved to the Midwest. Naturally, it saddened me to see my friend and mentor leave. I could not comprehend how we would continue to develop and advance this component, though somehow, we did. My relationship and friendship with Curtis would become the blueprint by which I would conduct all my subsequent mentorships.
The next time I saw him was a couple of years later at his wedding. A number of us traveled to Madison, Wisconsin to celebrate with him. The heat was unbearable during that visit, and we stayed in his home. During that visit, he pulled me aside to ask me to join him in his company. This offer both humbled and flattered me, but I wasn’t ready. As computer geeks, the whole lot of us continued to talk shop in that visit. We only stopped when his new wife interjected, “We’re on our honeymoon!” This was classic Curtis.
Every handful of years we would reconvene as he came back on business. A collection of faces that I had not seen for years, people I missed and respected, would break bread and reconnect. We discussed what we each worked on and the intricate details on each component, but mostly we reminisced about those early days when we worked together.
It was in this regular cadence when I got the news of his death one day. Curtis may have been quirky and even cantankerous at times, but he was always a friend and easily the best mentor I ever had. I eventually picked up that album and listened more carefully to “Pull Me Under” and finally understood. It speaks of being overwhelmed by death and it abruptly ends the way you may see the light in a candle abruptly extinguish. It bears a striking similarity to how I suddenly received the news of his death. Each time I hear it, it reminds me of our friendship and takes me back to that moment decades ago. It overwhelms me with loss.
Curtis, wherever you are, you still owe me an ending to his song. I look forward to hearing your artistic interpretation. 😉