He was actually #2 in SF (back when I was in the international branch), and in 1987 I had got myself in such an exceptionally bad odor with him that when the graphics gig was offered, even though I could see that it would sidetrack my career, I jumped at it. When #2 died eight years later I asked a colleague "Will they bother with a funeral, or just pound a stake into his heart?" and another coworker suggested a variation on the military funeral, with the honor guard firing into the open grave.

cordially,