I received an email tonight. John Brower has died, found in his apartment. Rodger Gerberding soon told me that John possibly had stomach problems of some sort and had been dead since late December. He was supposed to have made a trip to Manhattan and he never arrived. I have photos of myself with my mentor, Dennis Etchison, and Robert Bloch, a few months before his own passing to the big nowhere. Where are photos of John Brower, and Dwayne Olson, Scott Wyatt, so many of the Minnesota writers who keep Minn-Con the cult success it is. I recall when John related to myself and Harry Fassl that he had finally met his birth parents, and how incredible it was to him. I last saw John at WFC Austin in early November 06; we made the same small talk we always did. My truest recent memory of John was when we stood out in front of the hotel in Madison, Wisconsin, at WFC 05. Shivering, drinking coffee, and sharing laughs to jokes and happenstance that I can no longer recall. Two months ago I last saw my dear friend John Brower and now he is further along on the mysterious journey that Bloch and Wagner and Kelly Goldberg and Charlie Grant are on, perhaps sharing dinner with Rod Serling. John was 51. Rest In Peace. Wayne
