From Isabel Venter

I am profoundly saddened that the South African Computer Science community has lost someone so talented as Gary Marsden and that his team at University of Cape Town (UCT) will now be without their talented mentor. Gary’s work was inspirational and I often referred to his work and his innovative approach to Interaction Design when teaching Human Computer Interaction to final year undergraduate students at the University of the Western Cape (UWC).

When my daughter, Anja, was considering doing an interdisciplinary masters degree at Leiden in the Netherlands and was worried about the funding for this international degree, I suggested that she should contact Gary to find out if there were any such opportunities at UCT.  He pointed her to Marion Walton under whose able leadership she completed her masters degree in 2012 .  During her masters studies and in 2013 when she started with a PhD (with him as co-supervisor) she was so fortunate to be able to work in his research laboratory and with his guidance, contribute to some of his projects. Anja often spoke of her wonderful interaction with him and his team and she was devastated by the news of his untimely death.

I only met Gary on a few occasions at conferences and workshops – most recently at an ICT4D conference, which he so ably and successfully hosted. He was a warm and inspirational person – and I especially appreciated his inclusivity.

My heartfelt sympathy goes out to his family, Gill and his two children Holly and Jake .  His family was very dear to him and he often referred to them in his conversations with his students and colleagues.  His death is a personal loss to many - family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances.  

From Matthew Kam

"All of Computer Science is a subset of Human-Computer Interaction." -- Gary Marsden

I was deeply shocked by Gary Marsden's unexpected passing during his prime. It is a huge loss for his family, his students, the University of Cape Town, and the broader ICT4D community. Gary and I crossed paths so many times throughout our professional lives. If I knew that ICTD 2013 would be the last time that many of us would get to see him, I would have put the conference on my travel plans. At this point, I deeply regret not being able to attend ICTD 2013 and meeting him for the last time. 

It seemed like yesterday when I last met Gary, which was during the CHI 2013 conference in Paris. Gary, Melissa Densmore (whom I'm excited to learn is joining the UCT faculty now that they have lost Gary) and I were sitting at a cafe at the conference convention center. Having recently recruited Gary to the advisory board for the ACM SIGCHI special interest group on Human-Computer Interaction for International Development which several of us founded, Melissa and I were picking Gary's brains on how we could take HCI4D to the next level. At the same time, Gary asked if I might be willing to step up and be a subcommittee chair for CHI 2014's papers committee. I never fail to be amazed at the breadth and depth of his perspectives, and his generosity.

I still vividly remember my first meeting with Gary, which was when I was a PhD candidate at Berkeley. We were seated at the same table close to the door, at the first HCI4D workshop at CHI 2007 in San Jose. Gary had blazed a trail with his research in ICT4D, and was the winner of the SIGCHI Social Impact Award at CHI 2007 (which was incidentally CHI's 25th anniversary, hence the significance). I went up to him during a break to introduce myself, and to tell him how thrilled I was that he had received this award. Gary brushed aside the compliment in his usual self-deprecating manner. I bet he could never have imagined that as one of the earliest ICT4D researcher, and his putting ICT4D on the "world map" at CHI through his award, he inspired a generation of younger researchers, including myself, who were passionate about technology for improving lives among the most disadvantaged but couldn't quite see what the future of our field would look like. Gary's successes (and persistence in the face of numerous failures) kept me going when what we were doing was neither mainstream, understood nor recognized at CHI.

I remember another meeting that I had with Gary two years later in 2009. It was the workshop at my alma mater Berkeley that ignited the series of ACM DEV symposiums. (At that time, I had graduated not too long ago from Berkeley and started a tenure-track professor position at Carnegie Mellon.) Gary made an insightful statement at the workshop that I continue to remember today: "All of Computer Science is a subset of Human-Computer Interaction." This was just one of the several examples of how Gary possessed the imagination to see things in a different light, to provide a fresh perspective on the so-called conventional wisdom in and about HCI. When a student subsequently asked me if HCI is a subset of Computer Science, I shared Gary's wisdom with him. 

Gary's wisdom will continue to live in our hearts and minds.

From Michael Talbot

I remember wanting to do an MSc but not really knowing what direction to do it in. Gary's work seemed interesting after our ICT4D lectures in honours so I asked to chat to him. He took me out to Nandos below campus and we chatted. I really wanted to make a difference in the world but felt that just being another computer techie wasn't going to change much. He helped me understand properly that everyone's strength is different and few people can do the type of work that we do. That conversation at our little Nandos table changed the way I see my contribution to the world. His caring attitude really grabbed me and I'm privileged to have had him as my masters supervisor.

Apart from the fun lab meetings, his amazing stories from ventures passed, and the tales he brought back after going overseas each time, the thing I hold most dear was the way he invited us into his home for lab braais. It was so great to be welcomed like that, to play silly games in the pool with Jake and Holly and to enjoy Gil's warm hospitality. Those fond memories will stick with me. 

Gary's love for his family was obvious and the stories he told were filled with wonderful ideas that I hope to do with my family and children one day.

It truly seems too soon to have lost a man like Gary. What a loss it is to us who remain, but also a challenge to us to be warm, inviting, loving and excellent, like Gary was.

Thanks for sharing your stories.

From Ian Saunder

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.

From Fritz Meissner

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.

Ian Saunder

( (+27) 72 638 2997 (cell)

On Wed, Jan 1, 2014 at 6:53 PM, Fritz Meissner <fritz.meissner@gmail.com> wrote:

Thanks all for the opportunity to grieve in community like this. 

In 2010 when I started my M.Sc. in the UCT Computer Science department, I told my supervisor I wanted to sit in the "ICT4D lab". It worked because I was a match by research area, but what I didn't realise at the time was that I was the only student there who was not supervised by Gary Marsden. Still, I was welcomed in weekly meetings, at which I was given the same space to talk and hear his advice for my research as any of his own students. 

He put effort into many things that would create a good atmosphere for all of us, including buying furniture and having us over to his home for a meal to mark the end of a term. In 2011 his tireless efforts at networking and fund raising resulted in the group getting an attractive work space in the computer science building. I was proud to be there. Any time a friend visited the University, I made the lab a part of the tour. In spare moments Gary joined us there, drinking coffee and making conversation which was always worth taking my headphones off to hear, even if I wasn't actually part of it.

One of the biggest benefits of being part of this group has been the endless stream of friends and contacts to whom Gary introduced us, including some very senior people in the field. When I meet them later, they remember me as one of Gary's students, even though I wasn't introduced as such. I think I understand why: it was unusual for someone in his position to pay attention to and promote students whom he didn't supervise, because there are significant incentives for academics to only invest time and energy only where it is most necessary and where return is most likely. It wasn't just me, either. As the group grew, more students joined from other supervisors, some of them not even from the same department. We all experienced his encouragement, infectious enthusiasm, and generosity.

In my (short) research career, January was always a great month because of the quiet in the lab, conducive to good concentration, but also -- more selfishly --  because Gary would split his attention between the few students who were present at the start of the working year. This meant more great conversation, and getting the scoop on his exciting plans for the new year. 

In 2014, January will be different. It holds sadness at amusement and wisdom lost, at plans that could have been, but won't. It would be unhealthy to deny that sadness, but in the midst of it I'm determined to hold on to the example he set, and hopefully one day emulate: to welcome the outsider who doesn't quite fit; to find meaning in blessing others; and to always go the extra mile, even when there is no obvious reward ahead.

Fritz

From Darelle Van Greunen

I met Gary some 15 years ago.  Over the years, he was always an inspiration and sounding board.  When I first met him, I was fascinated by the type of research he did.  How he managed to just take everyday things and turn it into a research project.  I recall his entertaining and fun presentations and keynotes.

When I learnt the news of his passing, I was as shocked as everyone else.  It was hard to believe that I will never hear his sharp chirps and quick jokes ever again.  I am grateful for what I could learn from him and grateful for the time he spent with us.

Gary, the gentleman of Computer Science, will be missed by us all.

From Connor Graham

I am deeply shocked and saddened to hear of Gary's passing. This is just awful news.

He was someone I had so much respect and admiration for. He was also a fellow Northern Ireland lad and, because of that, was someone I was especially proud of.

Gary was a great person and the world of HCI will not be the same without him. I remember well him giving a keynote at HCI and again at OzCHI. He was someone who was a very gifted researcher and was also very easy to get along with and spend time with.

Needless to say, if there is anything I can do, please let me know and I will do my very best to get it done.

Please pass on my deepest, heartfelt condolences to his family and friends. I will miss him greatly.

With great sadness,

Connor