I met Gary for the first time in 2004 during my first year at UCT. Within your first few weeks at university you quickly learn how to pick out the professors from the crowd, but Gary was an anomaly in this sense. He rode a motorcycle to work. He wore jeans. He sometimes blasted U2 from his office in the late afternoon when he thought no one was around.
These things were more than enough to make me look forward to a semester course in computer architecture that he would be taking in my second year. Studying computer architecture is not typically seen as a life-affirming experience, but the passion and sincerity that went into each of his lectures gave new meaning to the subject for me. I recall him pretending to be an electron, dancing around the floor as he flowed through an imaginary circuit. He also enjoyed randomly placing pieces of irrelevant information on his slides, such as a column for "number of oranges", in what he described as his attempt to "let the madness out slowly". And I liked him all the more for it.
Although Gary was undoubtedly a gifted educator, his true passion (besides his family) was unmistakably evident when he spoke about his research, which inevitably had the end result of helping someone. His commitment to and belief in his work is one that I continue to admire, and I was fortunate enough to experience this first-hand after my supervisor resigned from the department at the end of my first year of my MSc. I instinctively called Gary (in a panic), and he met with me that day. I couldn't believe it when he agreed to be my supervisor.
That conversation signaled the start of an unforgettable year for me. Being part of the ICD4D lab afforded me the opportunity of being surrounded by people who were looking to bring about positive change in the world, and were led by a man who had devoted his life to this endeavor. Gary quickly cottoned on to the idea that positive change could be brought about quicker through the introduction of a proper coffee machine to the lab. He truly was concerned with the well-being of his students, whether it was a need for funding, equipment, or just a conversation that inevitably helped in re-framing our perceptions of what it was we were working towards.
Even though Gary's passion for his research was unmistakable, it was secondary to his love of and commitment to his family. I was fortunate to have had the opportunity of meeting his family and spending time with them during the braais he used to host at his house for the lab during the year. I recall one instance where Gary, hands and arms ladened with all of the food that had just finished cooking, was making his way from the braai to the kitchen. Jake called out to him, wanting to show him how much better he was able to kick his football after having been given impromptu training by Raymond. In my mind I can picture most parents declining their child's request in such a situation, their mind focused solely on delivering the food to the kitchen. But Gary stopped immediately, turned to Jake, and with no sense of urgency or irritation, asked his son to proceed (Raymond had indeed done a good job - the kick was a substantial improvement over Jake's previous attempts.)
Gary was one of the most sincere and genuine people I have ever met, and I am deeply saddened by his passing. Although the void in the world and in our hearts that he leaves behind is one that surely can't be filled, the positive change that he was able to instill in the world continues to live on and multiply through his family and the people he met. And for this, we will forever be in his debt.
Cheers Gary.
