After a very long battle with brain cancer, Henry passed away on January 8th, and was laid to rest this morning. He was 41.
Online, he was a very private and guarded person. You may have known him as Quilty, Marion Quiltowski, or as that mod with the whomping stick. He reached out to me a few years ago, and got to know him quite well. We wrote the kind of emails that took days to write (we’d end every email with “see you in two weeks!” because that’s how long it would take to compose one) and would have spanned ten pages had we written them on paper. He loved classical music (he tried to get me to love The Firebird as much as he did), Central Park, dreamed of seeing Vatican City one day, and his favourite season was Autumn.
I asked him once what his imaginary life would be. He said he’d have a little boy who’d share his love of comics, a daughter who was a dancer, and he’d teach history (high school or college, he couldn’t decide). He couldn’t picture a wife (Thora Birch maybe?) but they’d live in New York in one of those converted apartments that used to be a therapist’s office, and it would always be Fall.
Reading back through some of his emails, he was so eloquent and smart. You can tell that a lot of thought went into every sentence that he wrote. He talked about you guys, the guys who left MW for greener pastures, and that he even had Tegler ban his IP address once because coming here so often was affecting his work productivity.
I don’t believe in Heaven, but Henry did. For his sake, I hope there is one and that he’s there right now, finally without pain, without worry, and looking down on the people he loved. I’m going to miss hearing his New Yawk accent on the other end of the line, telling me everything's gonna be okay, calling me ‘kiddo.’
His obituary may be found here. Please take a minute to leave a few words in the guest book for his family. Send me a PM or Facebook me for an address if you wish to send a card. Thank you for the support you've given him and his family in the past. It meant something to them.
Rest in peace, Henry.