I knew Michael for 28 years, and I never knew him as well as I wished I had. We were professional acquaintances, and nothing more. The loss is mine.

We worked together on a technical standard back in the day, and I ran into him at conferences and the like. Despite being a giant in my industry, he always treated me with immense and genial courtesy, an attribute that defined every one of his interactions that I witnessed.

He was a man of exquisite taste. Taste in clothing, taste in food, taste in art and literature, and taste in behaviour. I never saw him ruffled, not even when people were reduced to screaming at each other in rage.

He reminded me of the author G.K. Chesterton, though I never had the chance to tell him that. Larger than life in every respect, impeccable in his appearance, broad in his knowledge, and dryly humourous in his references.

That I didn't know him better was my own fault. I sabotaged my career, and left that part of the software community for a long time, only recently returning. I was very tempted to skip the last virtual conference I attended. It was expensive, it didn't really have any positive impact on my career, and it meant I was spending hours sequestered at my desk while in the busiest part of the parenting day. A big reason I attended was to see people like Michael. And, as a result, I got to see his last speeches at Balisage, a seminal and ongoing conference for people in that very specific area of the industry. I got to wring out a few last bits of conversation with someone of immense wit, insight, and wisdom.

His speeches were epic. Calm, almost placid in delivery, but invariably striking directly to the heart of some aspect of what we did. But that was my experience of Michael. I almost always walked away from an interaction with him inspired, newly informed, and/or grateful. I never had a negative interaction with him, and that says a lot to me. When I showed back up in his corner of the world, he was nothing but gracious.

I'm sad that the foolishness of my youth cost me the opportunity to know him better.

I have met very few people in life I would consider great, in the classical sense of the term. Your life is impacted by his work far more than you likely understand, and far more than the various celebrities I see being publicly grieved on a regular basis.

Death rarely troubles me. I accept it. I am not terribly inclined to grief.

I feel as if I didn't know Michael well enough to mourn. We weren't friends. I don't even know if he liked me. But I liked him, a great deal, and I find myself grieving.

Michael Sperberg-McQueen was one of the greats. I doubt I will meet his like again.

Ben Wolfe