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I am saddened to report the death of Robbie Brazil, co-partner in the Elizabethan Authors web site. A born jester, but no fool, he wore his motley with the ride of one who believes in his mission; a born teacher but no pedant, he helped others to bring out the best in themselves. As the web site grows, he will be deeply missed.
Robbie was beyond description, but the following messages will give you an idea of what his friendship meant to some of those who knew him best.
Robby and I grew up together, and were close friends during our childhood. He had rheumatic fever at five years old, and wasn't supposed to run - so we spent most of our time running up and sliding down staircases when no one was watching. We played games that were so imaginative that it would be impossible to describe them, they were multi-layered and wildly funny. We acted in our first Shakespearean play together, "A Winter's Tale "when we were both nine years old. It was a beautiful homespun production and Rob was a star. Robby, the child, was the most joyous boy. Although he had a weakened heart, and although he was supposed to be cautious and careful, he danced, ran, played and bounded with the strongest heart in the world. Maybe he should have been scared, but he was fearless. Maybe he should have been quiet, but he was full of giggles and roars. Maybe he should have protected himself, but he threw his heart wide open. His creativity and far reaching conceptual imagination was boundless and his spirit was funny, smart and loving and tender. Our friendship set the bar for silliness and creativity very high--I will never forget it. We truly knew what fun was, and we had more than our share. Rest in peace, my partner in laughter and crime--I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
I am at a loss just now to express my feelings for the loss of sweet/tetchy Robert Brazil. Irony strikes (or slaps) me upon re-reading the e-mails below, which I don't think Robert would mind me forwarding at this point, since they are somewhat informative of Robert's condition. (Although, please pardon the sprinkling of nasty language here and there.) My final well-wishes for my fellow traveler didn't pan out as hoped. Well, it is what it is, Goddamnit. We'll catch up with you soon enough, Robert. But as long as this machine is to me, I will miss you, my friend. Xopher Paul
From Robert to Chris: