I fear I'm not the person who should be writing this. But I also feel that someone should write it.
WolfDaddy, a user on E2 for 12-and-a-half years, died on (or possibly before) February 19. He had 283 writeups here, and you should go read some of them, because he was quite good. He hadn't contributed any new writeups here in over seven years, which disappoints me, because I would've loved to see more of what he was writing.
He wrote one of my longtime favorite writeups, Tales of MYSTERY and the UNEXPLAINED. I liked this writeup so much, I recorded it for one of the early podcasts (one which appears to be lost somewhere in the ether, though I still have my reading stored on my hard drive), and I've long believed it was the best one I ever did.
He wrote plenty of other writeups, too. He wrote about growing up gay. He wrote about movies and comics. He wrote about the Super Bowl. He wrote about his dreams. He wrote factuals and fantasies and intensely sad stories and intensely funny stories.
He introduced several noders to E2. He greeted new users. He was an encouraging, welcoming voice to many noders here. He was more active, in recent years, on MetaFilter, and his friends there feel his loss keenly. His friends here feel his loss keenly, too.
I shouldn't be the person writing this. I considered him my friend, but I don't know his real name or his age or where he lived. I never managed to get him to do a Decaversary Interview. I never even knew he was ill, and I wish I could've spoken to him again to tell him how happy I was to be able to call him a friend, even if I knew so little about him.
We /msg'd each other rarely. I know almost nothing about him, other than what he wrote here. I wish someone else was writing this, who could tell us more about who he was and what he thought and who he loved and what he believed.
Still, WolfDaddy is no longer with us, and I'll miss him.