On Thursday, February 13, 1997 at 12:00:00 AM UTC-8, Keith Hansel wrote:   
   > At the opening of DS9 "In Purgatory's Shadow", it says in memory of   
   > Derek Garth.  Who is he, and what is his connection with DS9?   
   >    
   > Thanks, Keith Hansel   
      
       
   I feel I'm uniquely qualified to lay out the events of our production day on   
   DS9 when we lost Derek Garth.   
    First, a little context. Derek was a prince amongst Grips, I can both   
   visually and emotionally convey here a beautiful example of what a Grip,   
   seasoned in the craft and wizardry of the multifaceted dynamics that define a   
   truly great Grip while    
   disavowing any of the frailties and ignobilities Grips have been prone to   
   contract or parrot in their urgent desires to fall into the common nature of   
   the ranks.   
    When I joined the DS9 Grip crew, I found a mature and gracious compliment of   
   guys that welcomed me into the fold with open arms and authentic interest in   
   sharing the wealth of knowledge that one depends upon to simply embark upon a   
   serous career at the    
   union standard of proficiency.   
    Derek, sparkled with genuine engaging attention towards me and enveloped me   
   in a almost paternal glint from day 1.  He was always a paragon of good cheer   
   even when dealt the shared burden of a uniquely difficult show to produce. The   
   hours were legendary    
   now in their consistent 14-16+ hour days, often leaving our dept. just in a   
   stand by capacity where wakefulness became a losing battle.   
    I can recall the morning when we all assembled at the scheduled calltime. I   
   think we were on stage 16. An uneasy affect grew amongst the Grips and in step   
   amongst the greater crew. This man, though living hours from the lot, commuted   
   daily to set.   
    Hours had passed, Grown, tough and gruff men displayed open confusion and   
   anguish. Calls to his home afforded no insight. Shortly then, someone (1st AD,   
   I think) called to gather the crew. She announced that on Dereks commute down   
   early in the AM, the    
   fog had come upon the highway to a degree of utter non visibility. It seems   
   Derek, traveling at the normal speed of of 70ish failed to see the flatbed big   
   rig at a deadstop. No indications of even skidmarks were seen if memory   
   serves.  Although we did, I    
    still fail to comprehend how one transcends from such arresting shock and   
   loss back to some pathetic semblance of picking up and moving on as if nothing   
   had ever happened. Yet I was there, I also felt the pressure to vanquish the   
   grief and gut wrenching    
   loss of a presence so formative in the cheerful spirit that had been the   
   standard.   
    That's all I can say.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)