This last week has been hard.
I lost two childhood heroes. Walter Koenig — Lieutenant Pavel Chekov on the original Star Trek and Alfred Bester on Babylon 5; and Sir Patrick Stewart — Captain Jean-Luc Picard. For more than 40 years, they lived in my living room and in my head. They helped shape the man I am today.
Walter was 90. Sir Patrick was 86. Long lives, by any measure.
Then a friend from the local Star Wars community lost his fight with cancer. He was 44.
Everyone Has an Expiration Date #
That’s not news. It’s the one fact of life nobody gets to opt out of. What we don’t get is the date.
Every death closes a story. Not a neat one, either — a long, complicated story full of insight and struggle, sadness and fear, joy, excitement, and wonder.
If the years have taught me anything, it’s this: we have a responsibility to make the most of the time we get. There’s no right or wrong way to do it. But it has to be lived. Not watched from the sidelines as it goes by.
Dylan Thomas understood this. In his 1951 poem Do not go gentle into that good night, he begs his dying father to fight — to meet the end with fury instead of quiet surrender. I’ve never read it as a poem about death. I read it as a poem about how to live.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
A Giant in Our Community #
The SQL Server community has a few giants of its own. Hugo Kornelis is one of them.
Hugo has dedicated his professional life to understanding and documenting the SQL Server execution plan. In fact, he’s documented every execution plan operator there is. Every. Single. One. Then he gave it all away — on his exceptional blog, and in person at what feels like every event on the calendar. The depth of his knowledge is staggering. The number of people he has helped is uncountable.
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve searched for an answer and landed on one of his posts. Or learned something from one of his emails to the MVP mailing lists. Or walked up to him with a problem I was sure was unsolvable, and watched him take it apart in minutes and tell me how to fix it.
That’s Hugo. Excitement and wonder for SQL Server, paired with a relentless drive to share it.
Game Over #
Last week Hugo published a blog post titled “Game Over.”
A few years ago, he fought leukemia and won. Except the leukemia didn’t lose. It went into remission, and now it’s back. This time there is no cure. His story will end soon. How soon, nobody knows.
The community is rallying, and it should. Hugo has been foundational for so many of us. So, like many before me and many after, I want to add mine.
Thank you, Hugo. My childhood heroes shaped the man I am. You shaped the professional.
Light in the Dark #
There is light, even now. A friend of mine had cancer surgery a week ago. Her cancer was advanced, yet by sheer luck the surgeons seem to have gotten it all. We’ll know more in the coming weeks and months, but there is hope.
For Hugo, the hope of a cure is extremely slim. His legacy isn’t going anywhere, though. The knowledge he documented will keep helping SQL Server people every single day.
But I don’t think that’s his true legacy. His true legacy is how he did it. Openly. Generously. With wonder.
That part, every one of us can pick up and carry forward. Write the post. Answer the question. Share what you know.
I know I will.
Thank you, Hugo Kornelis.
Photo by Jan van der Wolf: https://www.pexels.com/photo/close-up-shot-of-lighted-candles-6229134/