(Dan Farmer)

I remember meeting Becky… must have been about 25 years or so ago.

She was certainly memorable; a self-professed hick (of the “aw, shucks, let’s play poker, can you remind me of the rules?” shark type), NSA spook who I found a bit impenetrable at first, but she came along with Bob Abbott, who for my money could do no wrong….

She was very, very, very kind – not only to me, but to everyone that I saw her interact with, and had a real gift understanding people, although she was overly generous (perhaps over the top) in her estimation of me and my abilities. Years later she said she didn’t think I liked her… but that was me, not her.

Nearly 40 years ago, after the first significant person in my life died I … didn’t exactly vow or promise, but made a vow to *try* to tell people who have made a difference in my life what they meant to me prior to their demise.

With Becky, I thought I’d have time to tell her what she meant to me.

And I did, but I didn’t.

I’m sorry, Becky, I was looking forward to knowing you better, I blew that one, no?

I’ve always had troubles dealing with people; bits can be frustrating, but oh so simpler. And now, so many dead. When I started out there were almost no young folks in the field – some pretty fringe and mostly (not all!) hackery types. The rest were nearly gray beards or at least settled in Government or Big Biz type jobs. How times change, and don’t. And now I’m the old guy getting misty eyed about the past.

Becky, I shall miss you.