It’s taken me a week to write this blog post. I could blame that on a few recent disruptions in my life, but the truth is that I needed time to gather my thoughts, which have been muddled in a torrent of emotions as of late.
In the first week of June, I lost two wonderful friends within days of each other.
On June 2, I received word that Sandy Zier-Teitler had died at the age of 67 after a series of health complications.
I met Sandy at the Farpoint SF convention over 20 years ago, but her history in fandom dates back much further. She was a legend in the Maryland convention scene, having worked for ClipperCon, OktoberTrek, and Farpoint. She was also a writer and editor for the Star Trek fanzine Mind Meld.
My friendship with Sandy solidified when I started publishing with Firebringer Press, owned by friend, fellow writer, and Farpoint co-founder, Steven H. Wilson. Sandy was the line editor on my novels and was always enthusiastic to read my next story. Hers was one of the most encouraging and effusive voices in my writing career. I’m grateful to have been her friend.
On June 6, one of the most adorable, intelligent, and vibrant young women I ever met lost her battle with a rare form of cancer at the age of 25.
My wife and I met Jessica Headlee through SF fandom and got to know her when she and our friend Ethan Wilson began dating around 2014 or so. Jess became a ubiquitous presence in the Maryland SF convention scene, volunteering at Balticon, Farpoint, and Shore Leave where she was often seen dressed as the Shore Leave mascot (the giant rabbit from the original Star Trek episode from which the con derives its name).
Jessica also joined us in Rehoboth Beach for our summer vacations with the Wilson family every July. She was a marine biologist with a passion for saving our environment. Jess and Ethan were married on the beach in Rehoboth in October 2019.
In June 2018, I drove down to Maryland to help the Wilsons with landscaping and yard cleanup at Steve’s parents’ house.
There was a point when I took a break and stepped into the kitchen. I was alone and my thoughts drifted to whatever problems were plaguing my life at the time and exacerbating my depression. At that moment, Jess happened to walk in and observe the despondent expression on my face. She said, “Oh my God, Phil! It can’t be that bad!”
She snapped me out of my dark reverie and for the rest of the day, I realized that it can never be that bad when you’re surrounded by friends who care. Of all the memories I have of Jessica, this is the one I will cherish the most.
