Remembering Robert J. Fischer

Bobby Fischer, supreme master of the 64 squares, died on this date in 2008, at age 64.

The day after he died I received this lovely note from my old friend Tom Coleman:

     This is a death in the family. I thought of you the moment I heard
   the news this morning. Though not a talented player myself, at only
   eight years old, six years younger than he, I marvelled at his
   prowess as others did over Micky Mantle's. I never knew bitterness
   toward my betters at either sports or chess. Many of us who were
   neither as brilliant or disturbed as he still felt his agony, even
   as a half-talented music student can feel Beethoven's agony even
   after centuries. He had no heirs in the flesh; genius is no
   evolutionary advantage. All brilliance points to transcendence and
   whispers of immortality.

For Americans of a certain age and a certain bent, it is indeed as if a relative has died. 
Old Tom must have been consorting with Calliope when he penned his concluding line.