Scott Tepper: What It’s All About

Today’s column has only a little to do with games, and yet it has everything to do with playing games.  Don’t skip ahead because there’s going to be a quiz.

I met my best friend Tom several years ago through mutual friends who occasionally frequented a country-western bar.  This was a little odd because, at the time, I hated country music and didn’t drink, but why I was there is a whole other story.  Our common group of friends did a lot of social things together, and over time, I got to know more about Tom.

Due to some devastating things that had happened to me around the time I met Tom, I had built up some mighty fine walls that effectively sealed me off from forming any new friendships.  But Tom was different.  Something about him felt safe.  Maybe it was his self-effacing humor, or maybe it was his non-judgmental and pragmatic way of looking at everything, but we quickly became friends.


About two years after I met him, Tom was diagnosed with testicular cancer.  As he was wont to do, he read everything he could and was determined to beat the cancer.  Even though he went through surgery and was undergoing chemotherapy, he decided to enter a country western dance competition in Las Vegas.  It’s a testament to Tom’s force of will that even though he was losing chunks of hair daily and often unable to keep food down, he and a friend of ours, Kevin, started taking dance lessons in preparation for the competition.  As nothing was ever easy for Tom, two weeks before they were to compete, Kevin severely injured his shoulder.

Kevin called me and asked whether I would take his place in the competition.  I flat out turned him down as I’ve never been comfortable being in the spotlight, and there was no way I could learn a dance routine in two weeks.  But Kevin persuaded me by confiding that Tom didn’t know how long he had to live, and he saw this competition as a way of setting a goal and accomplishing something before he died.

Two weeks of learning a dance routine and a plane flight that involved several hands of Hera & Zeus later, we arrived at the Las Vegas airport.  I remember watching Tom run off to find a bathroom to throw up in, and wondering, if our roles were reversed, whether I would be as upbeat, confident, and energetic as Tom is through all this.

While we were unpacking at the hotel, Tom gave both Kevin (who had come along for moral support) and me something that I came to learn was one of Tom’s trademarks, a thank you card.  It was one of the most eloquent, touching and heartfelt expressions of gratitude that I had ever received.  Later that evening, when we arrived at the competition and saw the prizes that would be awarded to the first place winners—enormous silver belt buckles embedded with rubies—the competitors in both of us kicked in, and we ended up taking first place.


Some time after returning home, Tom’s doctor discovered more cancer.  This time, Tom elected to remove only the lump.  I went with him to the hospital for moral support. My job was to keep his mind off the impending surgery, so I brought along Hellas, which we played in the pre-op as we waited for Tom to be taken into the ER.  The nurses were fascinated with our game and declared that they had never seen a game like Hellas before.

Tom was determined to do everything possible to beat the cancer, so after the surgery, he modified his diet, ordered special herbs from China, and even submitted himself to acupuncture.  Amazingly, something—or everything working together—put the cancer into remission.

While all this was going on, Tom’s roommate moved out of the city, and Tom was left paying rent on a large two-bedroom apartment.  At the same time, I was thinking that it was time I moved out of the top floor of a house I was renting from friends and move closer to the city.  Tom asked me whether I would move into his place so that he wouldn’t have to move.  I told him “No”.

My fear was that if we became roommates, we’d stop being friends.  Tom had shared an apartment with Kevin for a year, and by the end, they were barely speaking to each other.  I didn’t want to risk the same thing happening to us.  In addition, there was the matter of my games.  At that time, I had just started boarding the Eurogame train, and my collection was beginning to burgeon.  Where would my games go?

Tom was already prepared for this, “They can go in the front hall closet.”

“Tom”, I replied, “You’ve seen how many games I have.”

“There’s plenty of room.  I’ll find a place for them.”

Out of excuses, I moved in.

Since Tom didn’t cook, my three shelving units of games went into the dining room.  Over time, the games multiplied and took over more than half of the room’s walls and spilled down the hallway.  Tom joked about how easy I was to shop for on my birthday and at Christmas.  All he had to do was buy me shelves—and that’s what he did.

In retrospect, I have to admit that this action of his sort of comforted me.  Having a collection of games that ran into the hundreds was something that not everyone understood, and in this subtle way, Tom was letting me know that it was fine with him.

My fears about us not getting along were unfounded.  Tom had started working at the Unity Church in Chicago as the Director of Membership years earlier.  He always worked Sundays and was often away on a trip or helping a congregant in need, so most of the time, I’d have our large apartment all to myself. This was just as well since I was pretty much the Oscar Madison to his Felix Unger.  Tom liked (yes, liked!) to clean the bathroom and I…well, let’s say that I closed the door to my bedroom when friends came over.

Our schedules usually overlapped a little during the week, and we’d use that time to catch each other up on what was going on in our lives or to pass along a great video that we had seen.  Our building had terrible television reception, but neither one of us was home enough to justify paying for cable, so instead we’d rent or buy movies.  Although Tom’s taste sometimes leaned a little to the macabre, we had a decent overlap in what we liked to watch.  He introduced me to the series Firefly and Battlestar Galactica, while I got him hooked on 24 and Dead Like Me.


Working at a church exposed Tom to so much that he was able to find the humor in just about anything.  He called me at work one day this past May to ask, “Are you trying to kill me?”

I was surprised by this and incredulously replied, “Of course not!  Why?”

“You left the gas on in the oven.”

Since I’m not much of a cook—something else that we had in common—I calculated backwards and realized that I hadn’t used the oven since December. With a bit of discussion, we figured out what had happened.  Months earlier, when I hosted a game day, a friend brought over lasagna and put it in the oven to warm up.  After serving the lasagna, he neglected to turn the oven off.  Since neither Tom nor I used the oven, it had remained on for months until the pilot light went out and started leaking gas into the apartment.  Of course, this became a running joke between us—"Remember that time you tried to kill me?” Tom would laugh.

As I already mentioned, working at the church, Tom saw just about everything.  He was the primary contact for the congregation, so if a congregant had a complaint or a compliment, he would usually hear it first.  Over time, as he dealt with more and more of the normal events in people’s lives that are shared among members of a church—births and deaths, weddings and divorces—Tom not only became more interested in the spirituality of different religions, he also became more adept at dealing with the ups and downs of life.  He took classes in hospice and volunteered his time not only for his church, but also for other benevolent organizations.  When faced with a particular challenging event, Tom developed a mantra, “I’m going to be the best Tom I can be”.  There have been many times, over the last few years, when I was confronted with a situation where I was tempted to take the easy way out.  The thought of Tom’s mantra was all I needed to push me to do the right thing.

I can’t imagine anyone was more organized than Tom.  At one point he decided to hold an exhibition and sale of his photography at his church.  Months in advance, he started buying mattes and frames and going through the thousands of pictures he had taken. He made little descriptive cards for each picture that told where the picture was taken and what prompted him to take that particular picture.  His constant drive to do the best he could prompted him to worry that no one would buy any of his photos.  He couldn’t have been more wrong.  His exhibition was a huge success, and several of the pictures sold so quickly that people started making orders for copies.

Rainbow Leaves, by Tom Dials


One of Tom’s roles in the church was to help decide how money for tithing was distributed.  He truly believed in the importance of helping others.  He was also extremely generous and creative with gifts for his friends.  For the adolescent daughter of one of his exes, he created a book with 365 different life lessons, one for each day of the year.  Some were serious, such as how to drive a car or make an omelette; some more humorous, like how to tell a joke.

I was on the receiving end of more than one of his amazing gifts.  Years ago, before I moved in with Tom, my treasured collection of Christmas ornaments had been stolen by someone I had trusted.  For years afterwards, I didn’t buy any more ornaments.  I felt that that part of my life was over.  One day in December, after moving in with Tom, I woke up to find that he had bought and assembled a 7-foot-tall Christmas tree for me while I slept.  He had left a note on my door saying that the tree was a gift to me and he wanted me to start collecting ornaments again because it had brought me so much pleasure.  Although, at the time, I begrudgingly thought that I wasn’t going to be manipulated that way, it turns out that I did start collecting ornaments that year, and it has brought back the joy that the season used to hold for me.

A little over a year ago, the building we were living in was sold and turned into a gut rehab, forcing everyone had to move out.  Tom and I thought it was time to start growing up, and we both bought condos. Even though they were only two miles apart from each other, we didn’t see each other quite as much as we did when we were living together.

Before we met, Tom wasn’t acquainted with Calvin & Hobbes by Bill Watterson.  I shared my love of this strip with him while we were living together, and he read every one of the C&H books I owned.  This past Christmas, Tom presented me with a one-of-a-kind gift that left me speechless.  He had copied 33 different pictures of Calvin from the books and organized them into a grid, each with an appropriate caption that matched Calvin’s expressions, such as “Disaffected”, “Apopleptic”, “Counting His Blessings”, “Flying Blind”, and even “Interpreting game rules only printed in Swahili”.  In the corner of the page was a picture of Hobbes saying, “Hobbes, Tiger First Class has assembled a handy guide to the moods and personality of our friend, Scott Tepper – a visual masterpiece performed by Calvin, Boy Genius!” The whole grid had been mounted on a magetic sheet, accompanied by a small magnetic rectangular frame with the words, “Today Scott is…” so I could position the frame around whichever picture fit my mood.

But the story of that gift doesn’t end there.  I was in awe as I immediately put the gift on my refrigerator and started reading all the captions.  I joked that most of the word choices weren’t exactly happy.  Tom replied that it wasn’t easy to find “joyful” pictures of Calvin.  I then noticed that one of the captions—"Satisfyingly Sticky"—had been misspelled.  Tom was aghast and immediately moved to take the picture off the fridge, but I wouldn’t let him.  A week later, Tom showed up at my door and went straight to my refrigerator.  Before I could stop him, he pulled his gift down and replaced it with a new one.  This new magnet had, of course, a corrected spelling, but the bottom of the page now had an extra feature—NEW! Expansion Set “Acquiescent Calvin, the lesser seen side…"—accompanied by pictures and captions such as “Emotionally Overcome”, “Tickled Pink”, and “Angelic”.

Now I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about Tom.  He wasn’t a saint.  He derived joy at my game days in disarming people when they made some sort of move that hindered his plans in a game by uttering the most colorful cuss phrases to throw them off guard.  One of his favorite sayings involved “your mother”, a very specific action, and a location that no one wants to visit.


In November 2006, Tom started commenting that his memory was going.  This was disquieting because he usually had an amazing power of recall.  Tom was someone who could do crossword puzzles in pen.  When he started having seizures, he went to his doctor who diagnosed epilepsy.  But even with medication, the seizures didn’t subside.  In January, the fourth doctor that Tom visited ran an MRI and discovered a brain tumor ribboned throughout his brain.  The doctor said that the tumor was inoperable and that Tom had only 3-6 months left to live.

Tom immediately got to work getting his affairs in order.  He told the reverend of his church about the diagnosis and went on a leave of absence.  Then he immediately started renovating his condo so it could be put on the market.  Tom paid off all his outstanding bills, then started selling off his belongings.  He wanted to leave no loose ends that someone else would have to worry about.

Three months after the fatal diagnosis, Tom hosted a celebration service at his church.  All the congregants and his friends were invited.  The place was packed to the point that people overflowed the sanctuary out into the hallway.  During the service, Tom told the story of how, when he was a little boy, he first saw a globe and learned that there was more in the world than just his small corner.  Then Tom presented globes to people who had touched his life in special ways.  Everyone who attended received a CD that Tom put together of his favorite songs, a photo of Tom, a photo that Tom had taken along with a sticker on the back explaining the significance of the photo, a booklet of his favorite quotes and books that had influenced his life, and a pamphlet of things that he felt everyone should know and address before they die. He then made the point to everyone that this was the only memorial service that he wanted, and he didn’t want people mourning him after he passed away. The celebration service was incredible, and everyone was moved by the joy of it.

By this time, Tom’s cancer was manifesting itself fiercely.  He would have good days and bad days where the pain would alternate between moderate and debilitating.  His equilibrium was affected and he would occasionally fall down simply from walking.  The seizures increased in frequency as well.  The congregants from his church were wonderfully supportive and not only raised money to allow him to take a vacation in Puerto Vallarta, but also organized a meal train which would drop off food for him every day to insure he was eating regularly.


I worried about Tom being isolated in his condo, so I pushed for him to move in with me.  At first Tom resisted, afraid of losing his independence, but he eventually realized that it was smarter to be with other people if he accidentally hurt himself.  In addition, I live a half block from a Target store, so if Tom needed food or anything else, he wouldn’t have to risk having a seizure while driving.

Over the subsequent weeks, the pain Tom was experiencing worsened.  Now, in addition to a constant, splitting headache, he started feeling pains in his hands, feet and chest.  I could tell the pain was bad when Tom’s left eye would open only halfway and he would walk slowly.  Since he had maxed out on all his pain medications, Tom tried acupuncture to help relieve some of the pain, but it was unsuccessful.  I felt impotent watching him go through this trauma, yet I tried to do whatever I could to maintain as normal a life for him as possible.

During the ensuing weeks, Tom continued to put his things in order.  He put pictures into scrapbooks to give as gifts to friends and made shadowboxes of many of the artifacts he had collected during the spiritual trips around the world he had made with the church.  He also sent thank you cards to everyone who had helped him over the last several months.  Always organized, several weeks ago, Tom told me that he didn’t know how much time he had, so he wanted to go over a list of last instructions with me that covered the distribution of all of his belongings.

When I could see that Tom was feeling down, sometimes to the point where he would cry from the pain, I would remind him that he had already lasted longer than he thought he would and that he had to hold out only a short time more until the last Harry Potter book came out.  Tom loved the series and had lamented at the beginning of the year that he probably wouldn’t learn how it ended.

So you can imagine how happy I was, a week ago, Saturday at 12:30am, when I was able to bring home a copy of Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows and hand it to Tom.  I stayed up till 4:00 that first morning reading on the couch next to him.  Tom, having had his sleep cycle completely messed up from the pain and drugs, was able to stay up longer and finish the book a little ahead of me on Sunday.  When I finished the book, we discussed it for a couple of hours and I realized that I had not seen Tom so alert and engaged in weeks.  It wasn’t to last.  By Sunday afternoon, Tom could barely walk from the pain, and on this past Wednesday, July 25th, at age 37, he passed away.

Harvest Moon, by Tom Dials


I have to say that I’m glad—not for myself, but for Tom.  He is finally out of his excruciating pain.  Although I have literally lost my best friend, in a way, I consider myself incredibly lucky.  Through these last six months I’ve had the opportunity to let Tom know how much he brought to my life and to say goodbye.  He was one of the few people who accepted and appreciated me unconditionally for who I am, and I got the chance to thank him for that.  Not everyone gets such a gift.

Even through the worst of his pain, when Tom was alive, he would always marvel at the littlest surprise and declare, “I love my life”.  He appreciated everything positive that came his way.  Though it may take me years to reach the enlightenment that Tom possessed, he was finally able to drive some lessons into my thick skull.  As such, I want to thank all the people I regularly play games with for all the joy and fun they’ve brought to my life:

• Randy – for creating and housing our weekly game night, and for welcoming me with open arms into it.
• Court – whose nonchalant demeanor belies his quick humor and underlying kindness.  He is always fun to play games with.
• Terrence – who is always willing to play whatever I want to play.  He, more than anyone else, has enabled me to play two-player games that I’ve wanted to try.
• Brian – who isn’t afraid to add (ahem) adult humor to any game.
• Lisa – if it wasn’t for her, I’d never know about some of the best party games.
• Tim – who is willing to play games with me when everyone else just wants to talk.  Tim is one of the most soft-spoken, highly analytical people I’ve ever met, and he’s a talented chef.
• Lindsay – whose kindness and caring for people is almost matched by her ruthlessness when playing Ca$h ‘n Gun$.
• Jason - most everything that comes out of Jason’s mouth, or that he writes down, makes me laugh.
• Peggy – the most wily Werewolf player ever.  Period.
• Paul M. – who has the incredible ability to unearth little-known information relating to games or anything that any of us in our group of friends might find interesting or informative.
• Amy – who has been so gracious opening up her home to keep our weekly game night alive.
• Bal – who probably has the highest win/loss record of anyone in the game group.  If we beat Bal, then we feel like we’ve really earned the win.
• Greg K. – who is most assuredly the Traitor…
• Greg S. – whose deadpan humor never ceases to take me off guard and crack me up.
• Holmes – whose enthusiasm towards playing games possibly eclipses even mine, which fuels my own enthusiasm.  His take on things prompts me to reexamine my own views.
• Tony – who is one of the most genuinely nice people I’ve ever met in my life—and almost unbeatable when it comes to business games.
• Heidi – who has been a godsend in her support of my clumsy attempt at learning German, which has helped me so much in my enjoyment and understanding of German games.
• Nataline – who is almost like a sister to me.  She is the best companion to have along on any game-related road trip, or any road trip for that matter.
• Paul I. – who is probably the most cheerful person to play a game with.
• Mike M. – who has the funniest type of analysis paralysis you’ve ever seen, and is simply fun to play with.
• Greg C. – probably the best sport of anyone.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard him complain about anything.
• Matt – who is the consummate actor.  You never know what he’s going to pull out of his sleeve when he’s playing a game.
• Ted – who adds the spice to conflict in games.
• Travis - who, even more than I, tries to bring boardgames into others lives.
• Ken H. & Robin K. - Even though we don’t live close by, thank you for making it so that whenever we get together, it’s as if only a week has passed since we’ve seen each other.  Also for introducing me to so many games that I would never have known about otherwise.
• Dale M. – who was there when I caught the boardgame bug.  If it wasn’t for him playing Lost Cities and Hera & Zeus with me, I probably wouldn’t have gotten as much joy as I have from boardgames over the subsequent years.

So here’s the quiz that I promised in the first paragraph.  Actually, it’s more of an essay question:

Given that you probably play games with other people regularly, and as a result they have brought you hours and hours of enjoyment, have you ever let them know how much their friendship means to you?  If you haven’t, what are you waiting for?  You never know what’s around the corner, and you might not get the chance later.

This is my gift to you.

And me?  Well, let’s just say that “Today, Scott is…Counting His Blessings”.

Tom, wherever you are, I have you to thank for that.

© 2007 Scott Tepper

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Comments:

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Scott, thanks to you—and Tom—for sharing this.  I’m glad Tom got to enjoy both the end of Harry Potter and had you to both read it to him and then discuss it with him.  You have my sympathy and best wishes. Take care, tom Posted by Tom Lehmann on Jul 30, 2007 at 01:39 AM | #

A really touching story, that I enjoyed reading a lot, so thanks for sharing Scott. I wish you all the best. PS: please don’t sell the rights to Hollywood, it would be a really corny movie, I’m sure it wouldn’t do Tom justice. Posted by Surya Van Lierde on Jul 30, 2007 at 05:07 AM | #

What a beautiful story, Scott. Sorry I never got to meet Tom and look forward to playing a game or two with you someday. Posted by Marc Gilutin on Jul 30, 2007 at 05:08 AM | #

Scott, thank you for taking the time to share this story with us.  You have done an amazing job of introducing Tom to those of us who never had the chance to meet him. You have my condolences and I wish you the best. Kevin Posted by Kevin Wood on Jul 30, 2007 at 09:13 AM | #

Thanks for sharing Scott. I didn’t ever really expect this site to make me cry :-) Posted by Steve Finney on Jul 30, 2007 at 09:23 AM | #

That’s a wonderful article, Scott.  You were truly blessed to have known an individual like Tom and you returned the blessing through the kindness you showed him. Posted by Larry Levy on Jul 30, 2007 at 10:21 AM | #

Scott, what a powerful and moving tribute to your dear friend.  Thank you for sharing it with us, and for reminding us “what it’s all about.” Greg Posted by Greg Daigle on Jul 30, 2007 at 12:06 PM | #

Scott thank you for sharing this time of your life with your friend Tom. Very touching and though provoking. I wish you well during this time and appreciate the words of wisdom and encouragement you have written today. Take care, --Paul Posted by Paul Paterson on Jul 30, 2007 at 01:09 PM | #

Thank you Scott, for always knowing which games to play and for patiently introducing Lindsay and me to an entirely new world of games. Posted by Tim Harren-Lewis on Jul 30, 2007 at 02:00 PM | #

Wow. That was well done. Posted by Sterling Babcock on Jul 30, 2007 at 03:24 PM | #

Thanks for making me think.  And I extend sincere sympathies for your loss. Posted by Scott Russell on Jul 30, 2007 at 03:35 PM | #

Thank you, Scott, for sharing the story of Tom’s life with us.  He sounds like a remarkable man, filled with the Spirit of love, care, and giving.  And, you returned that love, and were a true friend.  Bravo, Scott! Posted by Greg Schloesser on Jul 30, 2007 at 06:30 PM | #

Even in death, Tom is still touching lives through you, Scott. That is the ultimate testament to his life. Thank you for letting us get to know him. Thank you, also, for reminding us what is most important. Posted by Steve Bennett on Jul 30, 2007 at 07:02 PM | #

Very moving, thanks for sharing. Posted by Eric Knauer on Jul 30, 2007 at 09:04 PM | #

Scott, not only a great game ‘splainer (met you at BGG.CON 06), but it seems an even better Life ‘splainer.  Thanks for sharing. Posted by Robert Ramirez on Jul 30, 2007 at 09:57 PM | #

Tom & Surya & Marc & Kevin & Steve & Larry & Greg & Paul & Tim & Sterling & Scott & Greg & Steve & Eric & Robert and the people who wrote to me personally, Thank you all so much for your kind and supportive words.  Tom was a one-of-a-kind guy, and I’m going to miss him, so I wanted to give you an idea of how lucky I feel to have had him as a friend. One thing I didn’t share with you was that Tom frequently told me, when I’d be talking about some problem or another, “Scott, I just want you to be happy.  What would make you happy?” I know for a fact that he wouldn’t want me, or any of you to be sad, so this week or next, when you’re playing a game, and someone makes a move that thwarts you, I want you to say the saltiest euphemism you can come up with to your opponent. Tom would have liked that.  He’d have laughed… Posted by Scott Tepper on Jul 30, 2007 at 11:35 PM | #

As I’m planning to do a lot of gaming this weekend, I’ll try to think of it, you never know… Tom might be watching! Posted by Surya Van Lierde on Jul 31, 2007 at 02:48 AM | #

A very moving story.  Thanks for sharing it.  Such friendships are, unfortunately, so rare, and your article is a testament to how powerful such a relationship can be. Posted by Jeff Allers on Jul 31, 2007 at 05:52 AM | #

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