Gordon Dickson Tribute by Joyce Scrivner

I've written about attending Clarion - I had wanted to be a writer before I went, but I came away feeling emotionally battered by the experience - mostly from my interaction with Harlan Ellison. I've seen Harlan (and others) react similarly since, and I still don't understand the motivations behind that type of aggression. I'm coping better, but most of that is due to the passage of time.

However, Harlan was not the only instructor at Clarion that year. Robin Scott Wilson - the original Clarion creator - began the six-week program, Gordy Dickson followed him, Thomas Disch picked up after Harlan and Kate Wilhelm and Damon Knight polished us at the end.

The original rules for Clarion were stated in the first week - workshop during the morning and write the rest of the time. Gordy arrived for the second week and turned those upside down. He didn't like getting up in the morning so we would workshop during the afternoon. And otherwise we spent lots of time hanging around Gordy and socializing.

Gordy was a congenial talker and social creature. He found it difficult to say a (well deserved) word of criticism. So he would say something - positive - about all the stories. His door was always open and he was interested in any subject people wanted to discuss - the wilder the better. After spending time with Gordy at Clarion it was difficult for me to see where he found time to write - and as his student it was almost impossible for me to find time to write as well. His workshops turned into small parties.

I was not an SF fan at the time, nor involved with science fiction. I'd read a lot of science fiction, but the sour taste left after Clarion delayed my further involvement with science fiction or fandom.

Even later - after I joined fandom - I didn't see Gordy again for several years. I lived on the East Coast and Gordy was always a Midwestern fan and pro. I was interested in serious science fiction (and some fannish history) and Gordy was almost completely wrapped up in the Dorsai Irregulars - a group that had based many of their traditions on Gordy's Childe cycle of books. They still have a yearly Dorsai *Thing* which is a combination party and convention. It is both social gathering and serious business interaction.

However, when I moved to Minneapolis, Gordy was the resident old man of SF. He had been one of the members of the legendary Minneapolis Fantasy Society in the 1940s and 1950s. He had attended the local University and then become a professional Science Fiction writer with numerous awards and he had stayed in the Twin Cities close to his family. He still attended the local conventions and sometimes a local fannish party.

And that is exactly where I met him again - at a MinnStf meeting at my house. He had a houseguest for the weekend. I'd called and invited him to come to the meeting (party) and he brought Anne MacCaffrey. They ate and they drank and they told stories and they sang old and new songs and they stayed until the early morning and left with the dregs of the night. It was marvelous and wondrous and a miracle of the unexpected. (I've still got one or two books they signed that night.) And now and then he would drop in again on a MinnStf party at my house. He never came unless specifically invited, though.

I called him once or twice to talk about the Minneapolis Fantasy Society, and a couple times he called me to ask about some reference that I would likely know. It was just Gordy - I always knew he was out there. His health got worse and he stayed home more and traveled less. I would meet him at one or another convention and sit and drink with him. I partied in his room (and sang children's songs.) I arranged an interview with him (and Peggy Rae Pavlat) for the local Fanhistoricon. He was a kind and generous man with his time and what energy he had.

And now he's gone. He died in the early morning last week at his house. He's been sick for many years with the progressive destructions that asthma causes to a body. I've been told he had minor surgery recently and when he came home, he just started to fade away. He went to the emergency ward several times for low blood pressure and stayed in the hospital now and then. He finally checked himself out of the hospital to finish his days in his own bed.

And that sounds like Gordy, too. He would decide what he wanted to do, and follow it through.

I attended Gordy's funeral this past weekend. I'd hoped to be there in a timely manner - and have time for the viewing. But, as usual, I was running late, and I arrived just in time to hang my coat before we were requested to sit for the service. Even that is earlier than normal - I'm often ten minutes after something has begun. (*wry smile*)

The room was mostly filled with fans and SF people - only three rows at the front had Gordy's family. Gordy had employed several local fans to do research and do correspondence, and MinnStf had always had a complementary membership for him at Minicon. A couple local authors were also there - Joel Rosenberg, John Ford, Lois McMaster Bujold (at least) - I did not see everyone who attended. There were fans I haven't seen in years - Frank Stodolka (a floundering father of MinnStf/Minicon), Dave Wixon (who was Gordy's right hand for the past few years) - and several Dorsai Irregulars had come to pay their respects.

The coffin was covered with a Dorsai flag - a fair tribute, I thought. And there were flowers from locals as well as Joe & Gay Haldeman and Rusty Hevelin, SFWA, Kirby McCauley and the Dorsai Irregulars. The room's seating was extended to one side so there would be more space. And there was barely enough room - especially when several people entered during the service..

I was disappointed, though, that the 'celebrant' for the occasion had never met Gordy. Though his words were appropriate, I missed the feeling that someone with involvement with Gordy could have given the ceremony. There was a solo of Amazing Grace (sung with the glory of the song), but I missed the music that Gordy had often written about - stirring bagpipes and martial marching - and for that matter the music that Gordy often made himself - full of humor and poking fun at himself.

I did find out that Gordy's middle name was Rupert. Every time the minister mentioned Rupert I saw an English bear in my mind (from the children's book Rupert the Bear.) This of course is appropriate to the man who wrote about Hokas.

I took photos of the area - I had brought my camera for that purpose. I have photos of my father's family taken at the funerals of my grandparents - the only time all of the children were together. My father was one of nine children born throughout fourteen years. To me, funerals bring together people in a way nothing else does. For good or ill, that point is the only place to catch some people together in person.) I plan to send copies of the photos to people I think would appreciate this - Joe Haldeman (who's essay about Gordy is on the Locus site), Sandra Meisel (who co-authored books with Gordy), Poul Anderson (one of the few surviving people from the Minneapolis Fantasy Society), the Dorsai Irregulars, etc. Please, if you think of someone I've missed, let me know.

I stood and talked with Denny Lien (in a jacket and tie!) and Terry Garey (decked in a marvelous green patterned winter coat) for a bit. Victor Raymond (who is now in graduate school in Iowa) and Lynn Litterer were there. Joan Marie Verba (who suffers from asthma as well) sat next to me. John Stanley and Jeanne Mealy came across the river from St. Paul. Joyce Maetta Odum brought her son. Several Dorsai Irregulars came from outside of town and were recognizable by their berets. Dick Tatge and Sharon Kahn (who have been mainstays of MinnStf since before I arrived) left the parking lot with me.

Thank you for your science fiction Gordy (I will recall best "Call Him Lord", I think), but most of all I will recall you singing in my room. And the way your face would light up when I'd stop and say hello.

Shai Dorsai.

Another tribute by Victor J. Raymond is also on this site