Bels

One of the best writers in the Guide, Bels contributed a number of Entries on a variety of subjects, mainly musical - he sang in an amateur choir. He was also a stickler for good grammar and punctuation, and wrote Entries on typesetting, and even an Entry on Titivillus, the typo demon!

Decribing himself as an incurable optimist, Bels announced to the world that he was suffering from bowel cancer, and kept a journal of his steady downhill journey to death. He really was incurable. He passed away on 4th May 2004.

Old Hairy

Old Hairy was a grumpy old codger, a retired electronics engineer. He loved seeing the world in a slightly different way - for example, his favourite activity was 'wearing glasses' by which he meant drinking beer (because the beer wears down the glass). He was an enthusiastic cribbage player in real life. He spent a lot of time on h2g2 writing entries on Boolean Logic. Old Hairy liked to assume the reader had a certain basic knowledge of the subject, and wrote huge entries in immense detail - we had many debates on exactly what level we should pitch the entries here in the guide.

Old Hairy asked h2g2 for an explanation of the medical diagnosis which had been given to him without explanation by his doctors. Sadly, the diagnosis meant that he was dying of lung cancer. He died later the same year, the sad event being announced by the Eds on 25th November 2004. After his death, I finished off the last of his Boolean Algebra Entries as a tribute to the man.

Pheloxi

Pheloxi was a Dutch Researcher. His command of English was not great, and as a result he didn't write entries for the Edited Guide. Instead, he spent his time on h2g2 spreading a message of friendship. He founded the group United Friends of h2g2 Space and tried to get everybody to join.

Pheloxi died suddenly in his own home on 19th April 2009, and his death was announced here on h2g2 two days later by his brother.

TB Falsename

I did not know TB Falsename well. I met him at a meet in Hull. He was a quiet young man with a floppy hat, and he lived in a tiny out-of-the-way town in the back of beyond in Scotland, which I was surprised to find I actually had driven through in my one motor trip to the country. He told me we had conversed on the subject of writing e-mail addresses in a way that spam robots wouldn't find them, but I didn't remember the conversation. After the meet, I sub-edited an Entry by him on that very subject, but didn't really get to know the man.

I was shocked when I heard he had died in 2009.

Zendevil

19th September 2010

Zendevil's real name was Terri Stirling. She was not shy. She was the most outgoing person I ever met; she would be classified as a crazy woman by most people who encountered her in the street. But she was actually a great listener as well. She had just applied to work for the Samaritans, volunteers who talk to depressed people who are contemplating suicide. I think Terri would have been very good at this, as she had a lovely warm personality and could see the good things in life.

Terri was a bit of handful – her conversations were interspersed with talk about farts, the drugs she had taken and practical jokes she had played on people. She was a semi-reformed alcoholic and dangerous when let near a drink. This was the devil of her Zendevil name. But she had the Zen side as well; her dodgy leg had forced her to give up work, and she sat and thought quite a bit, allowing her to realise what was important in life.

What a loss!