R.I.P. Norman "Spring1" Dillon

Norman Dillon — known to the geocaching community as one half of "Spring1" — of Danville, VA, passed away on Friday, February 7, after a long and courageous battle with cancer. He and his wife, Lynn, have been avid cachers for many years and have cached in all 50 states, as well as in Canada and Europe. They have been fixtures at virtually every geocaching event in the piedmont areas of Virginia and North Carolina, and I can't count how many times I have run into them, just by happenstance, out in the field.

When I hid my first couple of caches in early 2008, in Martinsville, I knew scarcely a living soul who actually participated in this alluring and mysterious sport. One Sunday, shortly after the caches had been published at geocaching.com, my mom and I were driving back to her place after lunch out, and as we were passing the hiding spot, smack in the middle of uptown, I saw several folks at ground zero, clearly on the hunt. "Geocachers!" I cried in stunned disbelief. I headed right over to meet them, and this one very pleasant, slightly older couple introduced themselves to me as Spring1 from Danville. It was the first of what was to be countless meetings with this legendary team. (Apparently, that was on Sunday, April 6, as I made mention of the meeting in the Blog Where Horror Dwells.)

Since they were retired, Norman and Lynn were known for being the first to find newly published caches anywhere in the area — and claiming "doing the FTF dance!" in their online logs. A few years back, I was in Danville when a new cache was published, and, being only a few miles away from it, I rushed over to it, hoping to snag the FTF. When I arrived, much to my surprise, there was Spring1's signature. I had missed them by less than five minutes, and, as it turned out, they hadn't even been in Danville when the cache was published; they had been returning from visiting their daughter, Robin, in Richmond, and the new cache just happened to be on their way. From talking to other cachers, I learned that this kind of thing happened with alarming frequency. To beat Spring1, you really had to be in the right place at the right time.

But what a kind, amiable, selfless couple they proved to be. If you were having trouble finding a cache they had already found or that belonged to them, and you called them for a hint, if you were anywhere close by, they'd just get in their car and come over to help you hunt. When this happened, more often than not, we would spend a couple of minutes sorting out the hide and then another thirty minutes socializing. There was a spell between 2009 and 2012 that I could be virtually anywhere looking for a cache and the chances of running into Norman and Lynn were greater than not running into Norman and Lynn. It was hardly an infrequent thing to be somewhere in another town or state, finding a cache, unrolling the log sheet, and discovering Spring1's signature.

Many, many other geocachers in this region could tell such stories about Spring1. Norman and Lynn have left an indelible mark in the caching community, and beyond, of course. I am so glad that I took the opportunity to visit with them the past couple of months; time can be shorter than one ever realizes. I must again thank Audra "Homestyle" Webb for getting a bunch of cachers together just before Christmas to go caroling at Spring1's place, shortly after we learned Norman was laid up for what would prove to be the last time ("Here We Come A-Caching"). He did reveal then that he wouldn't be getting any better.

There's a memorial service for Norman tonight at Townes Funeral Home in Danville, from 7:00 to 8:30 PM. A thoughtful obituary may be found here: In Memory of Norman Frederick Dillon

Norman Dillon is among those folks that I have felt most honored to call a friend. Godspeed, and happy caching in new and distant realms, Mr. Spring1.

Here We Come, A-Geocaching

Front: Sunpoppy42, Spring1, Strikergirl, Keith; Back: Homekid, Bill, Homestyle, HDJP, Klaussinator,
Damned Rodan, MJ, Esddan Sr., Esddan Ms., JJ

The other day, I got a call from Audra (a.k.a. Homestyle), one of my good friends in the geocaching community, who informed me that another of our mutual friends, Norman (a.k.a. Spring1), had suffered a medical crisis and had been hospitalized for a time. Now he was back home, it was her idea that a bunch of us local cachers should get together and pay him and his wife, Lynn, a little visit so that we might regale them with Christmas carols. Splendid, indeed. So tonight after work, I booked on up to Danville, met the group at a little shopping center, near Spring1's house, and headed out to do this nefarious deed. Yes, Norman and Lynn's daughter, Robin, was a willing accomplice, having made sure her parents were at home for our arrival — she told them that UPS would be arriving between six and seven p.m. with an important delivery. Well, between six and seven, the delivery was made, but it wasn't from UPS. An even thirteen of us exploded into song, assaulting the senses of our poor victims and everyone else within about a four-block radius. Several were good old standbys, but Audra had composed a fun little geocaching carol, done as "The Twelve Days of Christmas" — twelve hide-a-keys, eleven piles of fake poo, ten rolls of duct tape, nine sets of batteries, eight lock-&-locks, seven phone-a-friends, six bags of swag, five ammo cans, four plastic birds, three trackables, two gel pens, and a film can in a holly tree. We did this, and Spring1 did not forcibly eject us from their property. That right there is class. Finally, several of us noisemakers headed off to Ham's for a slightly late dinner.

Norman and Lynn were among the very first geocachers I ever met — at one of my own caches, in Martinsville, in early 2008. They have been among the kindest, warmest, most thoughtful folks I've ever met, and I very much hope our little musical venture made for an uplifting evening for them. Here's hoping Norman will see some serious improvement in his physical condition.

Be well, my friends.

A Fine Time at Binding Time

Today's book signing at Binding Time in Martinsville went quite swimmingly. Overall, a decent turnout — I came very close to selling out of The Monarchs — followed by an enjoyable interview for The Martinsville Bulletin, conducted by writer Ben Williams and photographer Mike Wray. As an aside, back in the spring of 1974, The Martinsville Bulletin ran its first feature about my rather monstrous creative activities — I had just sold a filmbook of Godzilla vs. The Thing to the very late, very lamented Monster Times (the filmbook ran in issue #42, July 1975), and I was just putting together the very first issue of Japanese Giants — and Mike was the photographer even back then. It's quite nice to see he's still providing a wonderful service for the newspaper and the community. It was most gratifying to have several geocachers pop in — Norman & Lynn, a.k.a. Spring1; Carol, a.k.a. Cassiliz; and Jeanne, a.k.a. Cantergirl — as well as my good friend Beth from Winston-Salem; and my seventh grade history teacher, Mrs. Tillery, who was surprised (and I gather pleased) to see I've made something other than fertilizer of myself.

Binding Time is a wonderful little cafe with a decent book section, and they actively promote local writers, which I very much appreciate. They serve excellent deli sandwiches (named after local streets — I had one called the Sam Lions Trail, which was smoked turkey, swiss cheese, red onion, tomato, and baby spinach on a croissant), desserts, and specialty coffees. It's a fine commodity for this economically challenged town, and I wish them every success for the long haul. They sponsor book festivals in the spring and fall, and I'll be appearing at the next one, which is on Saturday, May 4. If you're in the area, by all means stop by.

Ye auld author with his seventh grade history teacher, Mrs. Kerry Tillery

Beth Nelson sharing a laugh with a right funny fellow. Funny ha-ha, that is.

There be cachers here — Mr. Norman Dillon, one half of "Spring1"

In the sheer sadness department: by now, most everyone in the dark fiction community is aware of author Rick Hautala's passing of a heart attack at age 64, just yesterday. I was at dinner with Kimberly last night when I received the news, and it hit me so hard I could barely eat. I first met Rick back in the late 80s, at Necon, in Bristol, RI, and we ended up at various events together many times over the years. We've kept in touch pretty regularly via Facebook, though we hadn't met face to face for most of a decade; the last time was when we had dinner together at a convention in Charlotte, NC. I was never as close to him as many of our mutual friends, but I liked and admired him more than just about anyone in this business, and he always seemed to really appreciate our various interactions. I had published at least one story of his in Deathrealm, a good many years back. He was a congenial, rather humble man, clearly possessed of integrity; to my mind, that rarest of all things, a true gem of a human being. It's doubly tragic in that he had just secured a new book deal and it seemed as though, after taking some serious knocks over the years, he had finally reached a great place in his life. I know he dearly loved his wife, Holly. Rick touched many, many people, as evidenced by the vast outpouring of grief from those who knew him. His life — and his death — serve as a stern reminder that our time is short and we ought make the best of it. He set a mighty worthy example.

The Amazing Electric Rock & Other Caches

Yes, that there is my "It's a relentless and biting
wind, but I'm having fun on the caching trail" face.

I usually hate waking up before dawn on Saturday mornings, but this is the second weekend in a row I've done just that to hunt geocaches and a decent breakfast (see "Pilgrimage" for the true tale of woe). The alarm — i.e., three cats — went off just before my usual workday getting-up time, and since I was already planning to drive to Martinsville to help my mom with some IT tasks, I decided just to go straight for the highway. Several new caches in Danville had been published this week, and — perhaps only marginally coincidentally — I found myself experiencing one mighty powerful craving for a breakfast at Keith & Laura McCoy's Corner Cafe in Ringgold. So, I set my sights for that particular corner of the world and hit the highway just as the sun crept above the horizon. I must tell you; if you're in the vicinity and you don't give the Corner Cafe a try, there's something seriously wrong with you. Damn. Fine. Breakfast. To top it off, a bunch of geocachers from out east had come for a visit, and my old friend Mr. Norman "Spring1" Dillon was his own self present as well. That's one happy morning we're talking here.

The day started out cold as kraut — witness poor old Damned Rodan bracing himself against the frigid gusts in the photo, above left — but as the sun rose, the wind gave up the ghost and the temperature quickly turned almost too warm for comfort. There were new caches to be found in three Danville parks — Anglers' Park, Dan Daniel Park, and Ballou Park. All proved to be a mess of fun. A couple of favorites: a mailbox out in the middle of the woods, and when you open it up... there's a truck inside containing the logbook (courtesy of Keith & Laura); and a pair of rocks with an electrical plug sticking out of them. Shake the rocks, insert the plug into the handy outlet in an electrical box, and the cache container drops out of the bottom of the box (this one is courtesy of Klaussinator, who has provided a number of unique hides). Quite the awesome.

In Ballou Park, near a section of its extensive disc golf course, I stumbled upon a formation of rocks hideously suggestive of a shrine to the Great Old Ones. Nyarlathotep be praised and hogtied! Nyarlathotep evidently enjoys disc golf.

At the end of it all, I had added an even dozen to my cache count, bringing my total number of finds to 5,202. From there, it was on to Martinsville. I wrangled an excellent lunch at Walsh's Chicken (hot wings and french fries), and then it was on to Mum's to perform some serious computer maintenance. Eventually, I got around to the blogging, and we thank you for visiting.

Click images to enlarge.

The Amazing Electric Rock!

Go here.

Mail truck.

The Great Old Ones were here. Probably playing disc golf.