from Theo Williams
It's hard now to remember when Diana WASN'T one of my closest friends. She was becoming a fixture of ORYCONs just as I was regaining my sight after cataract surgeries. Every good party seemed to be visited by this buxom, sassy redhead with the startling blue eyes, the smoky, laughing voice, and the ready wit. She seemed always to be in motion, dealing with frazzling details at preposterous hours of the day/night---and always doing it well.
I really got to know her after a particularly ludicrous room-party. She and a male friend had been pegged as a 'serious couple' by gossips, and decided to stage an 'un-wedding' one Saturday night to celebrate their dis-union. The stuffy elements of standard wedding formalities took a definite beating at their/our hands; I had the distinction--sort of--of being the non-groom's 'least man'. (Diana assured me afterwards that in my case, the title was purely, well, titular. I hadn't been worried, but of course Diana may simply have been flirting. And who was I to object to such?)
Her background in theatre made her uniquely suited to deal with reluctant talent. I was in the midst of my first full-charge Video program, getting fragments of sleep at best, when Diana led the charge to draft me into heading an upcoming WESTERCON Video program. She was persuasive, patient, logical, encouraging, not really pressuring at all---and while I knew it was a hornswoggle, I loved her company too much to object. Which is why I said 'yes', eventually, to a backbreaking unpaid job. And enjoyed it. (It didn't hurt that Diana was my liaison tothe ConComm.)
I'd wrestled with coming out of the 'broom closet' for quite awhile when I confided my spiritual leanings to Diana. Her eyes flashed with startled interest; she later told me of being a long-time solitary Pagan. It was another bond between us, and I was richly honored when Diana asked my HPs Marjorie Rosen and I to marry her to Rog. I was also verging on stage fright---my first wedding as a HP, helping to marry two people whom I cherished. But we made magick that day, nerves or no. (Rog literally lost a special-made CD of wedding music in plain sight---I couldn't have topped that had I set out to.)
The stories could go on all day. The ORYCON (Ed. note: Orycon XIII in 1991) with the Republican soirée taking place in the next hotel---Diana had done her usual wrangle with security and law enforcement, only to be descended on by FBI and Secret Service reps. HUMORLESS ones. By Saturday night she was badly stressed, and Gail/I/our buddies talked her into taking a break in the hotel's 'quiet bar'. She was relaxing nicely, until the unannounced fireworks display commenced at The Other Hotel; I caught the first flash, registered it as pyrotechnics---not weapons fire---and unclenched. Turning around, I saw Diana's eyes widening in horror. "Oh, Gods, is that GUNFIRE???" she gasped in a voice indicating near panic. We started the calm-down procedure from scratch, and weren't kind about the goings-on across the freeway.
Or, my first trip to Powell's Books in Diana's company. Without thinking, I tossed my cloak on over medieval togs and we were off. It was Sunday evening after a con, I was tired, and utterly unaware of how I looked until Diana began laughing heartily on the way back. "You have NO idea of the double-takes you were getting in that wardrobe", she chortled. I so wish she'd had a camcorder in her purse...
It wasn't all fun. Diana's health problems made it hard for her to do a lot sometimes. I'd call to check on her, to find her in extreme pain. Often, Rog fielded the calls to save her the strain; he and I got close with those conversations, and I was immensely glad he was there.
Then Rog was gone, in an unpredicted flash. It was hard to hear Diana so heartbroken over the phone and not be there---but I was the priest who'd married them, and did all I knew how to do. I stayed with WicCon/Magickal Winter Weekend largely out of loyalty to Diana. It was a reason to stay in close touch with a friend who worried me deeply.
We talked several times after the event, and I tried not to be patronizing. Her mood swings concerned me, as did at least one of her medications; but her coming RV-delivery trip seemed to buoy her spirits. It would afford her a needed break. After that, she'd sort her life out.
But things went very differently. After the phone call breaking the news, I retreated into music from a jazz station---only to hear a favorite vocalist who'd taken her own life. Oh please, I thought, not that, not NOW, and reached for the radio dial ... and I suddenly saw Diana and Rog, two sparks in eternity, swirling around one another in a reunion dance. And what better for that than the sultry ballad I was hearing? I smiled, through tears, and wished them well.
Theo Williams
I really got to know her after a particularly ludicrous room-party. She and a male friend had been pegged as a 'serious couple' by gossips, and decided to stage an 'un-wedding' one Saturday night to celebrate their dis-union. The stuffy elements of standard wedding formalities took a definite beating at their/our hands; I had the distinction--sort of--of being the non-groom's 'least man'. (Diana assured me afterwards that in my case, the title was purely, well, titular. I hadn't been worried, but of course Diana may simply have been flirting. And who was I to object to such?)
Her background in theatre made her uniquely suited to deal with reluctant talent. I was in the midst of my first full-charge Video program, getting fragments of sleep at best, when Diana led the charge to draft me into heading an upcoming WESTERCON Video program. She was persuasive, patient, logical, encouraging, not really pressuring at all---and while I knew it was a hornswoggle, I loved her company too much to object. Which is why I said 'yes', eventually, to a backbreaking unpaid job. And enjoyed it. (It didn't hurt that Diana was my liaison tothe ConComm.)
I'd wrestled with coming out of the 'broom closet' for quite awhile when I confided my spiritual leanings to Diana. Her eyes flashed with startled interest; she later told me of being a long-time solitary Pagan. It was another bond between us, and I was richly honored when Diana asked my HPs Marjorie Rosen and I to marry her to Rog. I was also verging on stage fright---my first wedding as a HP, helping to marry two people whom I cherished. But we made magick that day, nerves or no. (Rog literally lost a special-made CD of wedding music in plain sight---I couldn't have topped that had I set out to.)
The stories could go on all day. The ORYCON (Ed. note: Orycon XIII in 1991) with the Republican soirée taking place in the next hotel---Diana had done her usual wrangle with security and law enforcement, only to be descended on by FBI and Secret Service reps. HUMORLESS ones. By Saturday night she was badly stressed, and Gail/I/our buddies talked her into taking a break in the hotel's 'quiet bar'. She was relaxing nicely, until the unannounced fireworks display commenced at The Other Hotel; I caught the first flash, registered it as pyrotechnics---not weapons fire---and unclenched. Turning around, I saw Diana's eyes widening in horror. "Oh, Gods, is that GUNFIRE???" she gasped in a voice indicating near panic. We started the calm-down procedure from scratch, and weren't kind about the goings-on across the freeway.
Or, my first trip to Powell's Books in Diana's company. Without thinking, I tossed my cloak on over medieval togs and we were off. It was Sunday evening after a con, I was tired, and utterly unaware of how I looked until Diana began laughing heartily on the way back. "You have NO idea of the double-takes you were getting in that wardrobe", she chortled. I so wish she'd had a camcorder in her purse...
It wasn't all fun. Diana's health problems made it hard for her to do a lot sometimes. I'd call to check on her, to find her in extreme pain. Often, Rog fielded the calls to save her the strain; he and I got close with those conversations, and I was immensely glad he was there.
Then Rog was gone, in an unpredicted flash. It was hard to hear Diana so heartbroken over the phone and not be there---but I was the priest who'd married them, and did all I knew how to do. I stayed with WicCon/Magickal Winter Weekend largely out of loyalty to Diana. It was a reason to stay in close touch with a friend who worried me deeply.
We talked several times after the event, and I tried not to be patronizing. Her mood swings concerned me, as did at least one of her medications; but her coming RV-delivery trip seemed to buoy her spirits. It would afford her a needed break. After that, she'd sort her life out.
But things went very differently. After the phone call breaking the news, I retreated into music from a jazz station---only to hear a favorite vocalist who'd taken her own life. Oh please, I thought, not that, not NOW, and reached for the radio dial ... and I suddenly saw Diana and Rog, two sparks in eternity, swirling around one another in a reunion dance. And what better for that than the sultry ballad I was hearing? I smiled, through tears, and wished them well.
Theo Williams
posted by John Bartley K7AAY at 6:16 PM
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