Remembering Marty

from Suz:
I came upon your blog and I want to know aobut Marty. Paint me a picutre, but please be specific in your terminology. Like particulars rather than vague words. Real experiences rather than some never to be seen futuristic wondering. Who was this guy, what defined him, how old was he and did he pass in epeace? Deal with dignity? Thanks 

from Stephan Fitch:
Hello Marty, I miss you. Wish you were around to meet my daughter - she'd love you as I do. Think of you often. Sent my old cat Simone your way - pick her up if you see her.

from a.:

I was sad and shy and fucked up 1984 in East Quad and Martin was always so gentle and nice to me. I always saw him poking and prodding other people, and would wonder why. I agree that from time to time people and things need to be shaken up a bit, but I treasure, I really do, the kindnessess of someone who saw that things and people were so rarely kind to me and who stopped to poke and prod that, too.

from Chris Becker:

Monday July 18, 2005

This morning I awoke with fresh memories of having dreamt about hanging out with Martin again. 
I think we went skateboarding and dumpster diving. 
We shot the shit and I had a real sense of everything being okay. 
Martin was a real inspiration to me. 

I'll never forget the time when I first tried moving to San Francisco. 
It was late July of 1992 and didn't know a soul in the city. 
I was alone, driving around SF in my green VW van. 
I didn't have anywhere to go and I was pretty beat from skating earlier that day 
so I decided I would head up to Haight street on my way out to Ocean beach 
to find a safe parking place so I could crash out for a while. 
The fog was just beginning to roll in so I rolled my window down and suddenly I heard 
that distinctive loud voice bellowing out over the whole street. Not even a whole word 
just a syllable, but I knew it was Martin in an instant without even seeing him.


I gave him a shout out and he looked up startled from his conversation,
recognized me, got stoked and invited me into the club he and his friends were walking into. 
What a great way to be welcomed to San Francisco. Thanks again dude. I miss you man. 
Wish you were here to go barge with. 

Stay on board.


from bradley:
I have really been missing Martin lately. I tried to explain him to my new friends at Flickr but it was hopeless... I'm down to "Everything I learned about hacking was over the shoulder of a red-headed genius" and leave it at that...

from Roz:

Marty -- Hard to believe it's been ten years. You'll never be forgotten.  

I still miss you.  Wish you were still around the lab (although you would have wanted to graduate by now!)

Now you look so young in that Yer Boy shirt photo.

from goldstein:

2005 and still......

from Jimmy:

Ten years today.

Damn, do I miss you.


from angelique [lutz] hamilton:

I remember he scared the shit out of me every time I grabbed a bite at the HalfAss and he played some fun soul tune over and over and over and over whenever I was there (can't get next to you?).  I remember he could diagnose whatever substance anyone in his midst had consumed within a second and ensure that he found a way to convince you, without a word, that you had really gotten some of the 'bad stuff'.  I remember thinking he was wild and wonderful and that he spoke in code and could see through anything, like superman.  I remember wondering if he ever slept.  It was sad to encounter this page, but strangely rejuvenating to see a host of names I thought I had forgotten since EQ/RC 80s daze.

from angelique [lutz] hamilton:

I remember he scared the shit out of me every time I grabbed a bite at the HalfAss and he played some fun soul tune over and over and over and over whenever I was there (can't get next to you?).  I remember he could diagnose whatever substance anyone in his midst had consumed within a second and ensure that he found a way to convince you, without a word, that you had really gotten some of the 'bad stuff'.  I remember thinking he was wild and wonderful and that he spoke in code and could see through anything, like superman.  I remember wondering if he ever slept.  It was sad to encounter this page, but strangely rejuvenating to see a host of names I thought I had forgotten since EQ/RC 80s daze.

from alexh:

Didn't know you.  Followed some links, read memories about you, spent 2 hours reading the wall and various other links from it.

Would have liked to meet ya.

Sorry you left too soon.

from fuck u 2:

fuck you who are you. who is marty

from casey:


from i fuckin ain't gonna tell you my name :

whoever reads this fuckin message is a fuckin gay bitch

from casey:
he was a good person ...

from Bradley:

Marty, Billy Rivkin died last night - cancer. Please let him join your band, he plays a mean guitar.

from Jimmy:

Here I am thinking of you again. A day doesn't go by. I wish the last memory was a happier one, but the rest more than makes up for it. See you when I see you.

from Bryan Smith:

marty is a bad ass guitar player that will always be remembered 4 ever

from Jean-Fran鏾is C魌�:

hello..i'm from the province of Quebec..Canada and i just want to say:
TRUE SKATER NEVER DIE! RoCk Anywhere you are Marty's!!! ;)

from David Wellington:

Never knew Marty. Just happened upon this web site and I feel as if I have known him my entire life.

My condolences to all that know and miss him. Also, to his family.



from z:


from martyfoundme:
They say the smartest ones can't handle
the ignorance of the world...
The smarter I get
the scarier that sounds.

from AA:


from Patrick A. :

 Although I may have never met Marty ,  I must say from what I have heard ,  is that this was a guy who was very intelegent when it came to computers and programing....  

 The world will miss you greatly...


from Frank Segler:

I first met Marty when we were both all of 15 or 16 years old.  We became fast friends, with Marty being famous for writing Disk-Fer, and myself for the prolific cracking of Apple ][ software, the primary thing being transferred with his program.  

In short order, he visited me in Huntington Beach, CA where I was growing up.  Over about a month period he taught me about modems and data transfer and I taught him about cracking.  

There was no doubt he was a genuis even at that age.  And an eccentric one at that.  At that time (age 15) he wore combat fatigues all the time.  And looking at these other messages, it seems a tradition he continued :)

Aside from his later contributions as noted here, Marty also contributed to the very early personal computer world and the pre-internet BBS world.  HIs program Disk-Fer was a first, allowing the user to send an entire disk instead of individual files.  It was an overnight smashing success and was promptly adopted as the de facto standard used by all hackers, crackers, wanna-be's and just about everyone else.  It he would have charged for it he would have made a small fortune.  

There must be a bigger plan, a real reason for him to have left so soon.  It still seems so sad that someone with so much promise and talent is no longer with us.

Frank Segler, CEO
Genica Corporation

aka "The Freeze"

from baback:

do they still remember? i wonder. they must. those who knew you.

i come back periodically. to remind myself of the horrible truth of it all:

"we start dying the minute we're born"  (paraphrasing beckett)


from Mike Friedmann:

This is Mike Friedmann I am your lost brother i hope to meet your family one day

from bradley:
I'm going to Chicago tonight Marty. I'll be within blocks of the old hood. I won't have time to swing by and see your folks, but I'll be thinking of you when I'm on the south side.

from bradley:

The morning after Thanksgiving I woke up in a fog... I woke up needing to tell you something urgently. Over the course of about 2 minutes, I slowly, gradually, came to the realization that you weren't around anymore. Dream and life got all confused. Couldn't remember if your dying was real or a dream... guess I didn't want to... Buried my head in my pillow, aching, not wanting to wake up.


from bouza:

Just thinking of you  ... again ...
I miss you, bro. I guess I'll see you
when I see you.

from will i am:

its never too late

please vist your
all of the above
none of the above
a-c only

from Sorin:

Marty R.I.P. !

from ERIC:

from ERIC:

from ERIC:

from ERIC:

from fuck u:

Who the fuck is Marty

from Jim:

I didn't know Marty but R.I.P you sounded like a good fellow.

from baback :

Marty, thinking of you this Xmas and the incredible life you left behind.
So, what do you think of the new (solo) Mick Jagger CD!? :)

"A life spent making mistakes
is not only more honourable
but more useful than a
life spent doing nothing." -- GBS

from Erika:

things i remember about martin:

near the sink, by the cages at the half ass, martin "walking" tansey on his toes. when i think of the half ass, for some reason, i always see this image in my mind.

working a shift with martin -- him on the grill, me on the sandwich board, and i think brant on the register. PUBLIC ENEMY blaring from the boom box. people asking us to turn it down (i think he would turn it up). a couple of times the three of us would have this amazing flow. liquid ease, making food to the beats of the music and the orders.

once martin pissed me off, kept push push pushing my control freak buttons so bad, i kicked him in the shins. toni yelled at me.

martin smelled pretty bad, but to this day i have a thing about redheads.

i went west when everyone else went east after U of M. i heard what was going on third-hand and way after the fact.

i'm sorry it was so hard on you jim. i think of you the most. i feel sad for you and the other "boys" from the half ass. what you went through.


from Barium Enema:

Marty's memorial is getting on my nerves.
Your dead with it and leave the 
rest of us alone.

from shawn:


from BlueCheer:

marty was a true freak

from B-rad:

Hey Marty,
Been thinking of you a lot lately. Keep an eye on Jane...
Love you bro...

from s.a.a.:

i didn't know you. i read about you tonight -- links upon links, and then found your history. that's how it wild incredible man, i'm sorry your community lost such a unique and treasure as you seem to have been, and clearly you are missed. 

from Kael's dad:

I close my eyes...all I see is RED.
What is this feeling that comes over me?
A tingle, a glow, energy in its purest form?
I know it is Marty.
...and I never even knew him.

from Andrea:

On the 4th of July, 1990:

Marty is flying down Mass. Ave. on his skateboard.

Someone has given him a dress made out of an American flag. It fits him perfectly. 

His skateboard roars, his orange hair is flying, people are gawking...

He is in his element. 

from A PERSON:


from Shez in Texas:

It's been a long while. I'm surprised.
A link to you is on a home page of mine.
The people who need to will find you
there.  My heart is still wrapped
around you and Scruffles. 

from mm :

Dear Martin:

I have recently met the most wonderful man I have ever met in my entire life, and am falling in 
love with him. He is one of your dear friends.  I have a sneak suspicion that he might be an angel...  

He told me about you, and that is how I stumbled upon this memory wall.  He told me that he 
wished that I had met you.  He said you were so beautiful, and he was right (not that I ever 
thought he would lie. ;-).  You are such a beautiful being.  You must have been an angel, too.  
How else anyone can explain the magnitude of love that you spread to so many people on this planet?  

And the angel that you are, I have my own theory about your involvement in bringing us 
together... ;-)  I am sure I will get to know you so much better, as I get to know this beautiful 
angel that I love.  I am looking forward to it. ;-)  And thank you, for coming into my life, 
and putting us together.


Marty, I hope you're sleping somewhere better now than next to the HP workstation under the table at CITI like we did in 1988.

from cwren:
Hey... that water ski story reminds me of a mental image I have of Marty from that day that's still as clear as when it happened.

Remember after the skiing, we stopped to get some food at some little place and sat at the picnic tables out back. The thing was the place had a cute little picnic table for the kids, and Marty decided that the little kid table was just the place for him to sit. It took him quite a while to stuff his tall lanky frame into that little table. Quite a sight: knees and elbows all over the place, and of course that hair of his.

Is there a photo of that somewhere?

from melva:

yes doom

from bob:

sup man miss ya!

from chris perry:

Marty - remember this?

Ashram girls
living in their Ashram world

(to the tune of "Uptown Girl")

In the car,
going to Bradley and Tejasi's wedding
you me and Ali
and two girls B+T asked us to take with us
who didn't know what they were getting into!

miss ya

from Abhi:
Hi I have been browsing these pages for an hour now and have seemed to realize an uncanny resemblance between my cousin bro ,Neil Grover, who showed similar excitement for life and people. Like Marty, he too decided to try the other world and left us on Nov 25th, 1998. All that I read here so similar to what I feel and heard from others for Neil. Neil was going on to become a Doc and was one of the most amaxing students as profs decribed him. I am sure Neil and Marty will meet up and enjoying themselves where ever they are and making people around them happy and energetic. Thanks Abhi 7/15/00

from Amy Pomar:

I'm sorry to intrude on the wall that belongs to Marty, but I happened across this site by 
accident and I started reading.. and I read everything.  It seems as though Marty is still so 
vivid to each of you.  I have sincerely been touched by your accounts.  I can see that 
Marty left you all too soon but I just hope that in your day to day lives you will be able
 to replay a memory of him and secretly smile.  Although I have never and will never meet
 him or you, I will remember how loved a guy named Marty was by so many friends
 and can only hope to know that kind of love in my lifetime.

from wave:


Hey Marty.  Sitting up late in the dark,
typing on a computer you would have
appreciated, thought of you, and came
back to say hi.

I have a wife and a daughter now; I 
take every Friday off early to pick my 
daughter up from the sitter.  I think 
that's what made me think of you today;
my daughter has a secret laugh, one
I know you would have enjoyed.  We
were rolling around on the floor, 
laughing and giggling,
laughing about...  who knows.  But
she's happy.  Her name is Margot.

Yea, like the Shadow's girlfriend.

I still miss you, Marty. Many of us do.

from Chaunta Yates:

Date 3-11-00

Hello everyone friends, family and cyber floaters. Im very touched at the emotion behind marty. I dont know him but I feel as If I should have. He really seemed like a great person with numerous accomplishements and friends. Its as if I felt his presence. I hope Marty, wherever his soul may be, be it with peace, and love as the hearts you touched here on earth. I found it fascinating, Im looking up dreads and I found this web page. Whats really coincidental, is that I have a fascination with red hair, and dreads which I currently wear now. So be it whatever reason Im glad I found a place of love, in a world of misdirected confusion.
Love to Marty,

from kk:

   To be an Artist is to be
   To see as an Artist is to see
   the truth...
   To feel as an Artist is to feel

   Marty is Artist!

from Shez in Texas:

Marty: Years go by, you are still with 
me.  I hope you have found comfort 
and blessings, and Scruffles.  With
her, you will be safe and well-met.


... does God still make people that way?

from cwren:

test - sorry guys... doing a bit of
tinkering and wanted to make sure it
was still buzzing along.

Keep on hacking...

from Alex Sherstinsky (

I can remember many "amazing Martin" stories.  They are all fun to recall.

Right now, after Erik Trimble pointed me to Chris Wren's new posting
of Marty's business cards, our water skiing trip springs to mind.  It
was Roz's group summer trip in August 1994, and Marty joined us.  We
went to Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire.  Marty never water skiied
before.  Yet, he got up on two skis on the first try.  His arms and
legs were doing nothing of the sort of technique they teach in formal
lessons.  Yet, he stayed on top the longest of all of us, never
falling down, never considering to take a break.  First, he looked
very inefficient, the unsure wobbling of his arms and legs, and making
frequent adjustments to the bumps from the waves.  But watching him,
was like observing a learning system in action.

New feedback mechanisms were being estimated, synthesized, and
deployed in real time, experience accummulated steadily and translated
into smooth naturally confident technique.  Pretty soon, Marty looked
like water skiing was second nature to him.

Yes, that's how I remember Marty: no lessons, no books, yet inner
ability to do anything, and a deep understanding of the most serious
issues, despite the constant far-out humor.

In the lab, I have observed how Martin learns new science, tools, and
technologies.  He lays in his chair, hands flat on the keyboard, his
gaze fixated straight on the monitor in front, and shutting off the
rest of the world around him.  Then he types some keystrokes here and
there, accesses some remote network resources, brings over some code,
modifies a file or two, recompiles, runs...  The knowledge of the
technologies with all the underlying theory involved in the software
draws from the keyboard and up Marty's fingers into his body and

That's it!  No textbooks, no effort -- he just knows exactly the stuff
he wishes to know.  He is what he knows.

No arrogance, no ulterior motives, no bragging.  He just sees the truth as is.

Oh, and here's another thing.  I have never seen any bad photograph of Marty!

In my mind, Martin was Mr. Natural...

And Mr. Natural says: "Keep on hacking."


from Alex Sherstinsky:

Martin, you've made many people happy by dazzling new technologies and
being around.  Your friends are continuing this work with your

from Chris Wren:
Business Cards
During a move at the lab I discovered an uncut sheet of Marty's business cards.

Oct 29 1999


One day I was with Martin and the other
person in the room got up and left.  
I said "Martin, in case of nuclear war
some of the people are gonna have to
start eating others of the people just
to survive.  You and me, we got a
pact.  We're the ones with the forks...
You followin' me?"  He looked at me
like I was crazy...  

When the other person returned, I
looked at him and said, "We'll talk
later."  And then I would contrive it
so Martin would walk in on me giving
the same schpiel to the other guy...
Whereby I would pull Martin aside and
explain, "That? Oh that, that was
bluffing ya see...  He's almost 
believing that I'm on *his* side, but 
in case of nuclear war, it's you and 
me..."  But then I would wink at the 
other guy.

Anyways, no one really tolerated this 
warped, indulgent behavior on my part 
except for Martin who loved it.  For 
many, many years, out of the blue, 
Martin would pull me aside and say, "In 
case of nuclear war..."  Or as we were 
eating he'd look at his fork, and then 
look at me... and smile.  But over 
time, it devolved into just a gesture 
that kept getting shorter and 
shorter... he'd just point at himself, 
and nod his head and mumble "nuclear", 
and finally he would say it all with 
his eyes.

from Patrick Pryor:

Martin went on a spending spree the year before he died. He bought a $300 stuffed snow leopard at FAO Schwartz for my daghter Amailia. The leopard is now living in Martin's Mother's basement and is looking for a home. If you want somthing large and hugable that  reminds you of martin send me an email.

from mtc

Four years later and the fact that Marty isn't here on the Earth still feels like a punch in the stomach. 
But that raw sick emotion is sort of welcome, it means I still love him.

I wonder what Martin would make of all the changes in the world since he left. Internet is on television now. 
Would he think that's more or less of the stuff that scared him so much at the end? I hope he can laugh about it now.

from Lisa D:

I am copying onto the wall something I 
wrote a long time ago. This is hard. I don't know if it's appropriate,
but I don't think this belongs 
anywhere else. 

I miss him. 

Here's the thing:

It was the last time I saw him.

And I only spoke to him one more time, because he said he was coming to my house for thanksgiving and he didn抰 and I抦 glad because he was at home.

Night time in Chicago.

I got off the train and I couldn抰 see him although I knew he was there. I couldn抰 see him because he had cut off all his hair. 

We looked at the big giraffe in FAO Schwartz and the big leopard for his niece. 
I hadn抰 seen him in a long time. 
I had forgotten that he had a sister.

He wanted to spend all his money.

We went walking by the lake. We walked to Oak Park Beach because he hadn抰 for a long time. 
It was windy and empty and difficult to speak.

We walked to a restaurant and passed a marquis for 搈y own private idaho� and he said the CIA had killed River Phoenix. It was a joke.

After dinner, we followed a horse and carriage. We cut through the park so as not to fall too far behind the sound of the hooves. He asked me to quit smoking. I haven抰. I am smoking now.

We went into Bizarre Bazaar and looked at things. There was a green hat there like a red hat he has in Boston. I wish I had bought it. 

At Watertower Place, he said he had to call his mom, and I wondered if he were at home so long because they were keeping an eye on him.

I had a latte that had sugar in it and he had hot chocolate and a cookie. I found the rest of the cookie in my bag later. 

He wanted to see a movie. We bought tickets and played with the glass elevator and went up to the Ritz Carlton lobby and I smoked. It was beautiful there. There was a fountain and the piano played 揟he Chattanooga Choo-Choo� .

It takes a lot of concentration not to cry.
And the movie was too long.

We took a cab back to his house. Looking at the city- the cab was so quiet and it was night. So I started to cry and held his hand.

We went- we bought beer and cigarettes and cards and went to his house. The unchanging house. The house he grew up in. The solid thing in his life. We played cards. He won. We went to bed. We were laying there and he turned over and held me and said 揑抦 gonna die soon�. And I said, 
揃ut I don抰 want you to�.

And he talked. About going to jail in the future because of something he had done in the past. Nothing made sense and he knew it and he was going to die. I said- if you keep talking this way, you抮e going to die because I抦 going to KILL you, and hugged him
And he said
I wish you could be the one to do it.

I don抰 know what we talked about. We were in bed a long time.

I got up and took a shower. His mother made us toast and tea. 

We went to the museum to see his installation. It was broken. But he抯 in there. With his hair.

I told him I love him. 
The night before, standing in line at the coffee shop, he said he was glad I came.

We went to dinner. He talked. It isn抰 right to say what he said. 

Except- he was sad he would never see his new nephew. But it抯 OK, he said. I抦 ready. It抯 out of my hands, he said. He said, 揑 have to stop talking about this, I抣l get you into trouble�.
I抦 safe, I said.

People die all the time, he said. It抯 no big deal.

Standing on the platform, waiting for the train, he laughed because I was STILL crying. 

I gave him a pink and polished piece of glass. 

And everything is very strange and quiet now.

from summer:

He's hair was long and to curly

from Matt von Ende:

     I never really knew him, but, like all in A2 in the mid-to-late 80's, I sure knew who he was...
I lived in a punk rock house with a bunch of other people who knew him and he would always make it to our parties.  
And, like everyone, I saw him daily on his skateboard ripping up the streets of A2...
later, it seemed that everyone I met after that would all, at some point or another, say
"Oh my god, you mean Martin--with the red hair?!?"
  He touched a enormous number of lives, as is evidenced by this remarkable memorial...
I am now working in the IS field and would have relished the chance to talk with him
...strange how lives intertwine.
     "Peace, peace.  He is not dead, he doth not sleep.  He hath awakened from the dream of life..."
--Exerpted from Shelly's Adonis
     R.I.P. Marty.

from Jimmy Reische:

To tell the truth, I was hoping that this wall wouldn't be here anymore.

So why did I check?  Almost an accident, I just found myself following the trail, and here I was again.

I've been thinking about you again, Marty.  Again and always.  The more time goes by, the duller the pain gets, but it doesn't go away, won't ever, my life would be meaningless without it, your life and your death made me. A horrible thing, but life can be horrible and irresistible and exquisite all at once - life easily accomodates such contradictions.  I wish I could have made you understand that. I tried.  If there was a way to force you to know it, a way to bypass the detritus of rational argument, and drive it home, I was that desparate, I would have done it, God knows all those endless arguments and discussions late into the night didn't do the trick.  

As the pain gets vaguer, so do my convictions, as time goes by I'm less able to convince myself that I did everything I could have.  I was so sure after you died.  Now I'll never be sure again.  Time is cruel in that way.

And in other ways: I have a daughter now, a great kid, and sometimes I look at her and I see her face,her cockeyed goofy smile, and all I can think is how you should be here to see her, and how much less her world is for not knowing you.

I still love you.  I need to know whether you love me.


from sean:

I don't know about Marty.
it's cool.
I mean I really need this techniques.

from Carla and Sam:


from Froggy:

Who was marty? Do any of us really know.  Sometimes its what you don't know about someone that is special.

from Andrea Champlin:


Thank you for the dream-visit last night; it startled me.
I guess at this point I'll take whatever you can give me.
Rage on, honey.

Love always.

from jack:

in 1986 one day sitting on corner of state
and liberty with mark and martin, martin 
with his dread locks, and I asked him, 
"How do you make your hair into dread locks?"
and he said,
"When you wake up in the morning, you go like this." and
he mussed up the hair on the top of his head.
"and then you don't touch it." he said.
years later I applied this method and found out
he was right.

from crazymama:

I never knew marty, may he rest in peace. ONLY THE GOOD DIE YOUNG

from alessandro:

marty? who's marty?

from Erik Trimble:
sigh Once again, I'm late. 3 years, and you'd think I'd learn. Oh well, at least that's one thing I've absorbed, not to worry too much - it's all in perspective. Marty, could you have guessed how things would turn out for us? The Web, the Lab, your friends? I seem be getting older - the pain is duller, and less frequent, but still a reminder of what was and can't be. I miss my friend.

Feb 5, 1998

from Fredrik Saterby:

I have slowly read and digested every
story and eulogy about Marty. And this
finally proves that the Web and the Net
really are more than science now. It is
a growing way to commune deep feelings
within the human race, and Marty, sadly
enough, was the one to tell me this.
Altough I have never met or heard of
Marty before, maybe it was him that led
me to this place...?

No, I am not out for to make a religion
out of this, that is not what it is
supposed to be. But all this articles
aroused my feelings. 

Don磘 you think there are other people
out there like Marty? Who is still
within the grasp of help and support?

Why don磘 you all throw away your
prejudices and open your heart for your
neighbourhood genius. He/she is there,
I can promise you, altough not
everybody is as visible as Marty was.

I don磘 want in any way to minimize the
grief we should feel for the loss of
Marty. But I feel that he would agree
to that it is a failure to let the sad
feelings rule the future.

I will think of Marty, and I will
support anyone who strays in the gray
zones. I would help that person to get
back, to the best of my capability.
   And I have been straying around
myself, so I should know.

Please think of this, and think of
Marty and all the others. There is a
lot to be done.

from Kris Snibbe:

Dear Martin, 
I remember when you showed up at Maximus
skatepark after finishing a 100 page thesis.
You threw it under one of the mini ramps
and started screaming and ripping shit up!
I pray that your next existence is a place
of happiness, where you are free from sorrow.
You have become a legend, and have changed 
the lives of so many people just by being
the mad man you are.  With love, Snibs

from Patrick Pryor:


I am going over to your folk's house for Chistmas Eve.  I wish you were 
going to be there.


from 鞍癘ptik鞍�:

Large chunks of meat hang from a circular file. 
Fear not the binary conversion for it too, shall take your soul.


from Greg Olson:

Wow, what an intense page.  Full of many
 names that go a ways back.  I remember 
first being intimidated by Martin's
 presence.  He would sit and stare at me 
and not say anything, or say something
 that didn't seem to make any sense.  
I would ask Brant what was up and he 
would just shrug.  After a time, I grew
 more comfortable with Marty's 
personality.  It is only after reading 
all of these memories that I realize 
how much depth there was.  He trully 
touched people.  In peace,

from d:
chris becker
and the other a2 skate dogs
old and new
give their best regards.

keepin it real.

from Baback:

It was all for you Marty!
Unlike us, the dead can dance
and now so can you.

from Paul Martz:

Marty! I wish you were here to help me learn C++, just like you taught me C oh so many years ago. I miss you, man.

from Carla Laser:

I Love You.

from wave:

Hi Martin. It's been a long time. I've been wandering; it's late, you know how it is.

I've been thinking about stuff, about people, about friendships, about knowing things and people, about knowing things about people. I was at my high school last week to give a "Career Day" talk. They had a list of all the people that had died from the various classes. There was a name on there that I didn't expect; a name that shocked me out of the complacency that you get after so many years out of a place.

I thought of you, so I came back here.

I don't cry much Marty, you know that. But I've been crying a bit. Thinking about you, thinking about other friends that are gone. Some that left unwillingly, some that seemed to have left willingly.


A good friend of mine told another good friend of mine that she wished she died; she wished it was over. She just didn't see the point anymore. She didn't understand why she should still have to be around; still have to deal with all this shit. My other friend didn't know what to say. It all seemed just too much. It was hard to disagree.

I wish I could have argued the point with you. I know you probably still would have "won", but I would have liked to have had the chance to convince you.


I'm crying again. It's hard to stop. I'm going back to the Lab next week, and I wish you were gonna be around. You, yer whole stinky self. Why the fuck did you leave without an argument? I'm not talking about those arguments - I'm talking about with me. I wish you'd given me a chance to convince you...

I miss you Marty. I really do.

I'll think of you and Muriel next week when I'm walking around the Lab. When I think of Muriel, I think how pissed off she must have been to have had to leave when she did; I know she didn't want to go. It makes me happy, as a friend of Muriel, to think of her as pissed off, as egging people on to do better work since she had to take off and couldn't finish up.

I hope you've found some measure of peace; I tend to think of you hanging out in the middle of a lab space; hacking on an unused machine; checking up on stuff.

I hope you're happier, Martin. It's all I can ever hope for my friends.

And you're still my friend, Martin. I'm sorry I wasn't around to argue with you; I'm sorry one of your many friends wasn't able to convince you to stay. I hope it helps now - I'm sorry it didn't help enough then.

- wave

from Ruby Tuesday:

Never knew him and never would but if you die young you stay forever young !!!

from Tim Kniveton, 13 June 1997:

Marty was part of a strange, exciting new world that Bradley
introduced me to in 1989.  I had just entered Brookline High,
and was learning so much about computers, the net, college, and life.  I
loved hearing Marty's stories, and stories about him.  And
of course who could forget his hair, his skateboard, his
vibrant smile.

Bradley used to tell me how great of a hacker Marty was, and I could
tell how great friends they were.  Marty was quite willing to
show me how to make a fake ID, and I seem to remember him giving
me a sample, of an ID with Bradley's face and Martin's name..

Martin has given so much to so many, in life and even in death.
His strong spirit lives on.

from Patrick Pryor:
The Friedmann and Pryor families are celebrating the third Birthday of Eric Martin Pryor today June 3, 1997

from Hell Bound:
I didn't know Marty, and I still don't. I found out about him looking through his pictures, like Butt-Boy!!! I think it's funny. Marilyn Manson

from Richard Geib:
Although I never met him, may Marty rest in peace.
"Dirge Without Music"

from Gene Kim:

In the HalfAss, East Quad, Diag, 
and even on the corner of Avenue A
and 6th street in the East Village, it
was always a pleasure to see Martin --
at all times a fascinating and eccentric

If he did not know then,
then maybe he'll know now
how so many people admired and appreciated him.

And although he is gone,
this Memorial Wall clearly shows
that he will always be remembered.

from Mark Peavy:

Hy MaRtY,

I wrote to your dad a while ago, and I think
he's doing ok. So how's Dennis doing?
Well, just give me a sign sometime, let me
know you are all right up there.
Help me transfer to MIT, will ya?
Miss you, stranger friend.

from Erik Trimble:
Oops! Forgot to say it was me. But then again, you're probably reading the log files, right?

from Erik :
<sigh> I just unhooked our cantankerous old Optical Jukebox that I inherited maintaining after Marty left. I think it missed him even more that I did. Never could quite get it to behave afterwards.

I still think about him when I've got my hands elbows-deep in some machine's guts, and need that extra hand. Also, Marty usually managed to stop me from electrocuting anything important (mainly, myself). It's been a shocking experience that last 2 years (hey, he liked my bad puns! Or, at least he groaned appreciatively.)

Anyway, I still miss him. Always will. And never will understand. I'm sorry, Marty. I know you're impatient, but please, wait for me? We'll all catch up someday.

from MIKE F:

dear marty hello you were a great musical guy i guess

from REAPER:


from Chris Wren:

Two years. Wow. I remember one day I found you in front of mudchute playing with the Asylum Web Light-Bright. You had figured out how to commandeer light-bright editing sessions. You were gleefully editing a picture that you had initiated from another machine.

You would have loved the playground of cracks and backdoors that the web has become. You're still an inspiration. Hack on.

from Jeremy :

I remember going to skate demos down
by chinatown with marty and juggle. We
kidnapped Rodney Mullin went skating
all over MIT with the skamit crew. 

Sorry I missed your funeral, I read
the email wrong and showed up 2 hours
too late.  Was sad and empty when 
I realized it was over.

Miss you Marty....


from Mark S. Peavy:

Marty.....genius boy...crazy skater....honest rebel loved by ALL.
i have never gotten to know you. tears ran down my face as i read through this white
board dedicated to you. i wish i could have been your friend. say hi to my lost friend
dennis...i know he抎 be crazy to get to know you. also say hi to my daddy when you get
a kept me reading this page for so long now, although we never met. i抦
running late now, but THANK YOU so much- it meant a lot to me.
take care of yourself.......we抣l meet you up there then!
-you really made a difference-

from Scoop:

You drove to Berlin with Bernd - remember the lost bits and "the program"? - we're working on it! Is blue light a killer? See ya!

from G.:

6 6 5.9

from scoop:
On your way to berlin you and bernd talked about the lost bits and the monster that will arise from this soup - now bernd's working on it. we'll keep you informed, marty.


Please  allow  me  to  introduce  myself,  I  didnt  know  Marty.  I  found  this
while  looking  up  info  on  the  Stones.  We  are  having  a  baby  boy  in  a  
few  days  and  I  clicked  on  "our  boy"  in  the  Voodoo  Lounge.  Wow.  Friendship
is  so  important  in  life  and  its  great  what  Marty's  friends  and  loved  one's
have  done  for  him  with  this  page.  I  hope  that  my  boy  can  read  this  some  
day,  especially  if  he  is  feeling  down.  Inner  pain  is  one  of  the  difficult
things  in  life  to  overcome.  Its  too  bad  Marty  couldnt  get  over  his,  as  life
can  be  great.  My  son  will  be  named  Keith  Richards.  I  hope  he  can  acheive  the
type's  of  satisfaction  Marty  acheived  in  some  ways  from  reading  others  comments
about  him,  but  I  also  hope  he  can  learn  to  survive  and  overcome  the  difficulties
that  happen  to  us  all.  Peace  be  with  you.

I  am  also  interested  to  know  more  about  Marty's  connection  with  the  Stones - E Mail  
responses  to  CHELSKEITH (AOL) would  be  appreciated.

from mike cosaboom:
somehow at this point this page tears me up more than thinking of martin does. i have a picture of marty and jim on my desk and i look at it every day - now that some time has passed i can focus on the joyous times.

if other people feel the same way, i hope you enjoy this photo:

and if you want more, i've made a couple of movies of martin at my brother's wedding. they conjure him having fun and reckless, just the way i want to remember him. jam on it...

from pascal godart:

je te desire

from yl:


from martin & Zippy:
hey martin, you forgot your sweater over here. take care and stay free.

from Rosemary:
Ever see Marty move all his wordly possessions on a skateboard?I remember seeing Marty sailing down the street with a huge desk balanced on its end,one foot hanging off the board in back, one foot pushing. Wicki,Wicki! Martin was beautiful. He was so alive. We'll never forget. On behalfof those who have yet to write,

Rosemary Clair Buchmann

from Sandy......:

Like probably most everybody besides
those who knew him, I stumbled on this
sight by accident.  But after sitting 
here for almost an hour, I can almost
see him in my mind.  Reading everyone's
tributes was like reading about some-
one I knew.  My eyes started to burn
with tears.  I knew several people who 
committed suicide and you always have
to ask why.  Maybe you shouldn't 
wonder why.  Would it be easier to accept
that way?  No matter what the reason,
to lose someone you love is the worst
possible pain.  Just remember them in
life, not in death..........

from Stephan Fitch:

Martin - only now - nearly two years after your death 
have I found the strength to visit you and your friends
here. I love you and miss you very much.

from Angelo:

I never knew Marty, but I am sure he went on to some greater good.
Souls nourish the lives after them.

from Maarit:

A finnish girl in the cyberspace who
never even knew Marty is touched by
his death (suicide?).

Reading these memorial texts really
make me feel sad.

from Krista Lahphier:

I, like many of the people who have written messages on this memorial wall, didn't know Martin as a close friend. I was at the U of M from 1985-89, and anyone who was in Ann Arbor at the time can tell you what a fixture Martin was on campus. I have a vivid image of him: wild red locks of hair flailing about, dressed in T-shirt and jeans, a skateboard under his feet or being carried around, and always a distinctive odor emanating from his body. I took a photography class with Martin in the RC. He was into holography, and would construct little clay figurines of skateboarders, then go through the process of turning them into holograms. I always wondered, "If he's going to go through the complicated process of making holograms, why is he using these silly figurines?" Being a somewhat naive midwestern girl, I was always taken aback by his apperances. But I used to go into the holography room to talk with him, just because I was curious about him and his work. He treated me like I had always known him, or something. His eyes were very gentle, and he patiently explained to me how he was making the holograms. I wasn't exactly clear on how the holograms came together, but I would stand around while he set up the lasers, and the figurines,and the cameras, with everything bathed in red darkroom light. That's how I remember him. I also always remember people commenting on how strange he was, then someone else adding something like, "Yeah, but did you know he's a genius?" I'm sorry I didn't know him better, and I'm also sorry about the pain he had to endure. Suicide sucks. A friend of mine killed himself a couple of years ago. I don't philosophize about it, but like Sasha, I think Martin was in a lot of pain, something that none of us truly understand, unless we have been there. I hope Martin has found a better place. I know Martin is sorely missed by all who loved him. He left this world way too early.

from lukyduk7 ascending to heaven:

you know, marty would have loooovvved Samizdat. werd up.

i come back to this page every so often, whenever i start fucking up. didn't even know him, but the fact that he was down with GWAR, skated like a man, and had the power to entrance nubile young women by *sitting in front of a computer and coding* is inspiring. wish i knew more smart punks.

from Patrick Leung:

Hey Marty -
I wish our paths had crossed.
You could have taught me how to skate
I could have taught you some kung-fu
Together we could have built wonderful things.

from Eric S. Goldstein a/k/a/ Rico:

I remember a person whom I think was Martin back at freshman
orientation at the u/m.  I can't be sure.  The person I'm thinking of
was so much cleaner than the person I came to know a few years

Marty went places I didn't have the guts to got to.  He also
had the tenacity and drive to master what he focused on.  He had a
drive to push envelopes.  I remember asking him why once as we drove
around in the middle of the night.  There was nothing profound in his
answer -- it was so mundane, it answered nothing and I can't recall
its substance.  I think he did relay something about a pipebomb in
highschool, but that was used more as an example than an

Martin has given me a gift he made available to all of
us.  He has shown us all it is possible to face our fears and fight to
take control of our situations to our fullest abilities.  Many is the
time he has hurt and angered me by being himself.  That is to say,
there was no malice, no intent on his part.  I struggled to make the
choice to hate or accept him.  By choosing to accept him, I was able
to take up the gift he offered us.  As a result, I am a better person,
attorney, friend, husband and father than I might otherwise have

All of us who let him in, each and everyone, are memorials to

from Jim Reische:

I should know better. Every time I decide to come back
and look at this wall, it starts all over again. He's still
gone. I'll never accept it, I see him hiding in the cracks 
and fissures of life, the sound of skateboards on uneven 
pavement (I still jump up, thinking it's him),
in a glimpse of bobbing red hair, in dreams
(where he's appeared both in grace and agony).
I got married last month, and the whole time we were 
planning and arranging and running around, all I
could think was "Marty should be here." And he was, in the 
assembly of his friends, and the thoughts of
those of us who loved him so profoundly.
He should have been there.
And I guess he was. He'd never miss a party.


from Dug Song:
i don't know how i ended up here, but it's weirding me out, let me tell you.

seems martin and i had a lot in common - i skate, i code, i'm an RC student at the u of m majoring in compsci, i'm an RA in east quad, etc. i'm friends with crusty a2 punx and propellerheads alike (i'm a sysadmin and research programmer for itd).

i dick around at CITI a lot, dunno if dr. peter honeyman knew martin or not, i should ask him. i'm thinking of going to MIT for grad school, if i can finish everything on time. might stay here, too.

anyhow, it's a shame i never got to meet him. seems like he was a real swell guy. what a world.


from jim okane:

I stumbled across this page and started to read some of the memories
and it dawned on me that I think I knew this guy. I scrolled up to see
the picture 'cuz the name just registered and sure enough it was
him. I'm sure Marty doesn't remember me at all...I didn't live in E
quad and wasn't in the RC (but I'll remember the CFG EQ Halloween
Party forever), but all my friends were and so were the guys I played
music with. After reading all the notes I came upon one which put a
lump in my was from his roomate...I used to work with Jim
Reische at Pizza Bob's and Marty would come in there now and again. I
first saw him in Ann Arbor in the fall of '84 and as time went on
(from parties that were UM related and those that were not (like some
Commy High Parties, like one were I know Marty was at where the
Laughing Hyenas played), I'd pass him on campus as he whizzed by on
the board and I'd nod or smile at him or something and he'd gimme one
back. I never knew him that well but we hung with the same kind of
people who did the same kinds of things and went to the same kinds of
parties. I can't believe you're gone.

In December of '84, my first year of school, I went to go see the
Replacements at a little dive bar called Joes' Star Lounge--nobody
really knew of the REplacements that time their latest album
to date was "Hootenanny". No one I knew went, so I went alone.  I
remember looking around once inside and wondering if any of these
people were locals, or students,--I looked over and saw the
hair. "That's cool" I thought to myself. I know of that guy. He's a
student, too. It's wierd that Marty's small part of crossing paths in
my life is bookended by two lounges--Joe's Star and the Voodoo--one
thing's for sure, I'm going to a lounge right now to have a beer and
think...and Jim Reische, all the people at Pizza Bob's (like Rico),
those in Marty's life with whom he was close with, and his family, I'd
buy you one too.  May you be forever in peace, may the wind always be
at your back, and until we meet again, my your god hold you in the
palm of his hand.



from Cecilia:

I did not meet Marty, but couldn't leave
without writing something.
You were a very loved person and you steel are.

From Uruguay.

from Rob Argyropoulos (, 7/96:
While we rarely spoke, Mad Martin was something of an area legend by the time I entered UMich in 1985, right up there with Shakey Jake in terms of odd Ann Arbor fixtures. I'm sure I knew more of him than he knew of me.

I lived in East Quad, as I think Martin did at the time, or else he just spent an inordinate amount of time there (the Residential College of Umich he attended was located within the dorm). But even around the diag or downtown, you'd always see Martin doing skateboard tricks. In the diag, the center of campus, he'd skate up and down the library steps, jump the benches, bounce off the walls, and otherwise defy gravity. His bright orange dreadlocks made him hard to miss. The local high school skateboard punks revered him as a role model. You could sense their "I wanna be a weird skateboard hippy when I grow up too" adulation, as they tried to mimic his stunts.

For a long time, I figured he was an eccentric, care-free slacker, probably into the minimal liberal arts courses he needed to graduate. Then one day I was returning from the cafeteria with a friend, when we noticed he was sitting on the stairs, hunched over a whomping huge wide-carriage green-bar computer printout, scribbling notes and changes. On closer inspection, it appeared to be assembler code. My jaw dropped. Afterwards I learned that he was actually a purported computer genius. It was hard to reconcile this image with my previous impressions. I think his teenage skateboard groupies would have had an even harder time of it!

I find I have a surprising number of memories of Martin. They're a lot more vivid than most memories, the way a good movie scene sticks in your head long after you've forgotten entire other movies. Remarkable guy. I'm sorry he's gone.

from Eric Friedman:
Martin Friedman was my fathers name and this site piqued my curiosity. I hope both of our Martin Friedman's are resting in peace!

from Hk:

remembering martin, i wondered what he might be up to these days,
so i thought i would check out the mit web site.
i found this page, which is NOT what i expected.

from sandy from Uruguay:

No lo conoci a Marty,pero nos mira desde el cielo.

from OlLeE:
I never knew marty, but from all the stuff i have read about him, he seems like a pretty cool guy. He was lucky to have friends as great as those who have created this page. Rest in Peace Marty.

from christa leonard:

me too. i miss him something awful.
its every time i walk down the street and think
that he'll come down the middle of it on his 
skateboard like the last time i saw him.
and especially when listening to al green.
i remember a clip from a tape made when he visited
on a radio show in A2 - a really long
amazing burp then: "we're rockin". 
still are, man.
yg - christa

from crazy&trash; media:

marty was a very busy guy, like us,
unfortunately we never known him, but we love it (like a stuff)!
Bye marty, you and your sister.  

from lena, h鰇ar鋘gen:

his lovely eyes

from clas:

his instant energy in the studio 

from Joan:

Marty was a very nice guy. I saw Marty with an Umbrella.
He used to open it when it rained.When the sun came out I saw him close it.
Marty never liked when it snowed because he wasn't sure if he should use his umbrella.
Goodbye Marty

from Parreira:
I've some friens like him, who died too. Next 10 Mai, had three year's that Jer髇imo, live us, in Caldas da Rainha - Portugal.

from Sidney:

He was an extraordinary man throughout his short 29 years

from Glenn Darby:

I too stumbled across this page in my roamings today 
and only wish I had at some time had the priveledge
of stumbling into Martin's life I'm sure we would 
have been friends...

                    Live on Marty...

from Jacob London (

A long message.

from Carol & Mark Killoran:

We never met Marty but he sounds like 
he was a wonderful person and missed by
his family and friends.  Our sympathies
go out to everyone whose life was 
touched by Marty.


from Felipe Garcez da Palma:

Dear Marty,

           I'm remember the night when

 i was wacthing the Voodoo Lounge's

show live in S鉶 Paulo, Brazil.

from Patrick Pryor

  I am Martin's Brother-inlaw. A year after 
Martin left us there still is a feeling that  
something is missing in my family. But there is  
a new curly redheaded boy in the Fridmann family.
He is my son, Eric Martin Pryor. He was born 
June 3,1994. Martin did get to meet Eric when 
he came to Chicago for the Christmas before 
he died. Eric was to small to make use of Martin's
talent with children. There is one photo of the 
two redheads together. 
  Martin's Mother says it seems perfectly normal
to have a redheaded boy runing around their
  I spent quite a bit of time with Martin when
he came to Chicago in the winter of 93-94. I tried
to help him after he attempted to walk in front of a
train. He spent a month in U of C Hospital. He was
heavily druged and was garded 24 hours a day.
I visited him as often as I could.
  I miss him and wish he could have played with my
baby and watched him grow.



from Julia Nash Stowell:

All I can remember about Marty is what
I have just now learned.
Like uncovering buried treasure:
he is my brother, only with a red 'fro
instead of blond, only living 9 more years
than my Chan
my connection, be it ever so fragile,
between MIT (where I _must_ have seen
this person) and the energy and humor
described herein: it makes me love and
miss Marty, even as I love and miss my
own brother the skateboarding
computer crazy energy boy
Suicide is not something these two
should have in common; scary paralells abound...

from Joseph Varghese:
Somehow by freak accident I stumbled on this page. I've never met Marty but I feel like I know him now. I've been reading the Memorial page for the past hour amazed by all the wonderful emotions an individual can create in the people around him and I wish that I knew him. When my time comes.. I hope I'll run into you up there. stay cool eternally,


from kevin:

 I never met him in fact i just stumbeld here by
accident,but i am glad that i did.I am so saddend 
when i hear that somone had to leave life early.
I like marty hair my hair is just as red and as wavy
well i hope marty family has found peace.

from Linda:

I stumbled on this site in error 
and yet I am touched.  Suicide is hard
to understand and everytime I hear of
heroic efforts made to save a physically ill
person life and I ask myself..why take 
away your own life.  My husband decided
that life wasn't worth living.  It just so 
happens that he was a graduate student
at the University of Michigan in the early 
1070's. He left behind a family who
will always mourn that sad loss and will
always deal with what we could have, should
have and didn't do to save his life
My heart goes out to Marty's family and friends
Please try to find a suicide survivor support
group in your area.  It can't change the won't bring back the life but it 
will help you to go on with your life.

I wish you all peace

from Ashley McCallum Swanson:

  I remember working the door at the Middle East looking over the
crossword puzzle and martin chiming in how much he hated crossword
puzzles. He then picked one of the clues out at random: "King of
Norway". Martin said, "Who the hell would ever know that". I did and
said "King Olaf".  He said that he always thought I was just a stupid
doorman and I had just changed his mind, it meant alot to me because I
always knew how smart Martin was. 
 I let him into the show for free
just like I always did...

from Melissa:

Marty, ich vermisse Dich, Deine wilden
Haare und Dein Skateboard.
Hamburg, den 18.02.1996, 00.44:29 Uhr

from one of the many X's Brandy Richerdson:
Marty was such a sycho. but I loved him alot we were very tight. I hated his hair though I went with him a while. Well, Marty where ever the hell you are you are loved & missed alot. And I am sorry we broke up. i loved you , alot.

from Someone who missed out.:

I never knew Marty, but feel, after reading
what, others who did know him have written,
I have missed out on one of life's privileges.
"Sorry. you had to go so soon Marty".

from jimbo jones:

I think i saw him once

from love tina and christine:
we love you marty!!!!!

from David Smith:
Marty is with the angels

Ya know hs has got to be smiling too

May he rest in peace in the after life

We love ya Marty

David Smith
visit and leave a tribute to Marty on my Wall of Quotes on the Web.

from Chris Wren:
A year! Just thought I'd drop you a note to say "hi", and wish you well whatever you are.

hack on...

from Mojo:

Those not busy being borne are busy dying.

from Stefan Schmitz:

I never met you, Marty.
You`ve got a lot of friends.
So, why did you leave?

from Jim Aley:

Someone mentioned seeing Martin dancing 
and screaming and eating a bowl of cereal
on a table in the East Quad cafeteria. 
This is partly true. As I remember it, 
he wasn't just screaming環e appeared to be 
serenading his bowl of cereal with the 
theme of the "Brady Bunch." All the rest, 
including the bit about the frantic 
dining room helpers trying to coax him 
down, is true. RIP.

from Christopher Uriarte:
It's funny how things work out....when you think life couldn't be better or brighter - when you thought you had it all - something hits you.

Martin inspired all of us.

He still does.

from Jane Simpkin

To me Martin was a human thread that tied
together Boston and Ann Arbor in a comfortable
way.  He was a familiar cherub with eyes of coal
and a smirking laugh full of mischief - and
of course his wonderful rusty corkscrew hair
bopping wildly to Bob Marley and the Meat Puppets.
He would be absorbed into his computer as
Donny bellowed out his obscene interpretations
of non-existant Cocteau Twins lyrics and chain
smoked Marlboro cigarettes.  Martin would
perch on his bed and watch us get drunk on Mickey's
40's and take part in all the madness that would ensue. 
To see him years later in Cambridge was
always a joy.  I will miss you and
your smile - peace.
If you wish to contact me please feel free:    

from jacque lene:

That wonderful hair!

from AdaOptick:

I remember Marty as a funny guy that you could
tell anything too!His honesty,sweetness
and bitter sweet irony will be missed
Blessed Be,may Goddess know and love you
the way we did!Kissess in the Dreamhouse
May you be forever with us in spirit!

from Dr. W. J. Llope:

i never met him, but i was living in A^2
in the mid 80's, and i swear i must have seen
him every day - on his skateboard of course.

i haven't really haven't thought about
him since then. in poking around the web,
i came across this site, read about him,
and realized that the red-haired
skateboarder i remembered was this same

for what i read, it's a great loss to us
all that he's gone.

the post by John Logie here is absolutely
true - i was there as well.

from Mike Casey:

I wish I could have sat next to you on a
bus or something and said "Nice fro."
and then become your good friend.

from Eva, Agder College - NORWAY:

Marty, I`ve never heard 
about you, but after reading all these memories 
about you, you seemed like a very special person. 
Wish I was able to know you, so i could learn from 
your knowledge!

from darcy cox :

Jane called me and told me about what
happened, but I've been traveling since then 
and didn't know there was a page until 
I finally talked to Bradley last night.  
For the last few years, I've been not thinking 
so much about a lot of stuff/people/memories 
from Boston, because things got really 
gnarly for me there right after that trip 
to Bob and Gary's on the Cape-- that
was one of the last few pure times, and 
you were one of the last few pure people 
I met there. Some people are touched by life 
in ways that are hard to understand and 
beautiful to behold.  You are one of them, 
and I remember the beauty only.         
Peace, Darc

from Chriss:

He's one in a million

from Bob Greenwald:

Dear Red Headed Freak;
We all love and miss you. Hope you are cruising the net with Bob, if
not look for him in the big ethernet.

from Bill Cleary:
Martin� I don't know you man but I read about you with great interest in the SJ Mercury News today. It's pretty amazing stuff媌eing "immortalized" out there in Cyberspace. You must have been a really good guy because so many of your friends have written so affectionately about you. Marty媦ou've achieved a type of immortality that no Egyptian pharoah could surpass. Rest in peace. BC, CKS Group

from jpro:

Cool dude we miss ya!

from Chris Pfeiffer:

Keep rockin good buddy and may you find 
the best stone yet. stay cool and long live 
forever cuz tomorrows just another day

from Lisa:

I remember Martin doing ollies on the
Diag at the University of Michigan. He
was a vibrant, fun-loving and intelligent

I even once acquired, through friends
passing down through friends, some old
homework of his that I was going to use
to help me study for a class that I never
took. I think I'll go look for it.

seems odd - this writing about a person I have never met. i never will know you now. but I feel a sadness regardless. never thought the web would be interactive like this. hope you're hacking in heaven....

from Baiju Patel:

What can i say about a man who changed my life forever. 
I will never forget you marty, i will always be in your
 debt. I LOVE YOU MAN.....RIP

from George Spofford:

Martin, you were my best friend in second grade!  There is no good
reason for the "red-headed freak" from high school to not be here
now that I've moved to Cambridge.  You went out on the SAME DAY I
moved to Cambridge, and I had been specifically looking forward to
looking you up on after unpacking my boxes.  Instead, on Valentine's
day of all days I happen to accidentally glance at a Tech on the T
and follow the story...

We were thick as thieves in second and third grades, even though our 
paths drifted somewhat after that.  While living elsewhere in Mass, 
every time I ran into you it was when we were both having incredible 
times, at the Bootsy show at the Channel and at the Middle East where 
lots of other coincidences were taking place as well.  

I'm impressed by the quantity and quality of the friends that I now 
know that you have.  My threads with you dangle after high school
(you're that qualifier I have to give when people ask how many people
graduated with me, because you had your own creative use for 
commencement rehearal) and I am glad to see how richly you wove your
threads thereafter.

You're missed.

from benjamin kline lowengard:

 I still owe you a round of guinness.

from Miguel Carlos Pinto da Silva:

He knew how to roll

from Karim:

What's up homie? Mart-in, Martaaay ...well just a small note here 
friends -the first time I'm on the wall, just a little grind, 
just a shread for the hell of it like the way ol' red hair a blazin' 
hit those short greasy curbs on Mass ave or the traffic dividers 
by the offramp in china town. I've been meaning to let go of a few 
good laughs spent with mr.f, been meaning to let em loose on 
the beatific familily of "les amis de martin". The clown films will 
some day make their debut here, also photos and the th

from Victor Ponelis:

I remember getting a call on my dorm 
phone freshmen year in East Quad.  I 
picked it up, and there was a computer 
voice on the other end, muttering 

It had to be Martin.

Wicki-Wicki, Dude.

from Bill Williams:

I remember Marty skateboarding in the diag with increadable 
and daring twists and turns. His hair was so wild. This is
the first I have heard of his death I am sad to say.

from Allan :

Whis you were here Marty!!!!!

from Shez:

9/19/95  I feel exquisitely sad about Marty's death. 
Marty, please contact Scruffles@doggy.heaven.
She will make you feel much, much better.  
And, I will see you both when I get there.

from gabriele:
I dont forget marty. My stranger friend.

from Joe:

Nothing At ALLLLL :(

from Steve Bernhardt:

Great site for what appears to be a very worthy person!

from John:

He was a really cool dude.

from Paul Martz (
Marty was the most imaginative co-worker I've ever worked with. His creativity made learning C and Unix and 3D graphics fun. The knowledge he shared with me on these topics was the basis for my career, and in that sense, he lives on in me, as I'm sure he lives on in so many others through the way he has touched them. I could've never written all that documentation without his boom box playing rap music to the rhythm of our typing.

I think Marty would love the fractal nature of how he has touched such a large and diverse group of people as those who have left their sentiments here.

from shelly:

I just used the web for the first time a
couple of days ago. I looked up the 
Stones for a friend before anything else,
and through a series of 'mistakes' ended 
up at Our Boy...or Marty. It was the
FIRST THING I actually saw. 
Since that moment I have tried to get 
back to Marty. After crashing all over
the place I've found my way back and read
everything that's been written. He
sounded like an incredible person.
He manages to still touch so many through
all of you. I imagine he'd like that.


The Mart

A splash of red
A harsh word is heard
He knows and he sees
What we be

A dreadful lock
With no key to free
So he leaves 
And we stay 

from Daniel Orlikoff:

Written in "Lab Notes, A Publication of the University of 
Chicago Laboratory Schools":
To my fellow classmates: I don't know how to write a letter like this and not have it hurt when you read it. Martin Friedmann, '83, recently committed suicide while living out East. Martin and I grew up together, not only in Hyde Park, but also in South Haven, Michigan, where our parents both had homes. We used to swim at the beach and build giant bonfires at night. We'd go exploring in the woods and frog catching like there was no tomorrow.

We listened to the Rolling Stones and drank our first beers together. We talked about life and girls and how our whole lives lay ahead of us. When we got to high school it seemed like we were always in trouble, and, boy, was it fun. School was OK, too, but it was our experience of growing up that will always live in my mind.

For those of you who did not know Martin well, let me fill you in. Martin was the skinny one, always on his skateboard with his crazy red hair flying all over the place. He had a heart as big as they come, an infectious personality, and a great sense of adventure about him. His brilliance with numbers helped me and countless others get through our science classes. Martin was a very special person, overflowing with energy and exuding uniqueness.

I think Martin sometimes felt like he was different. But in reality he was no different than any of us. Struggling to figure out who we are, where our place is on this crazy planet, and what kind of difference we'll make. He's gone. I only hope that in some way he's happier now. I know he'll always be in my thoughts.


Now that the warm weather is here, I realize Marty was an icon of
Summer for me.  I don't know how many times this spring I've seen some
redhead flying down the street on a bike or skateboard, and my first
instinctual thought is "Oh there's Marty," and then I remember. I know
anyone who knew him, will think of Marty a lot this summer. In some
ways its comforting to see these redheaded, gangly strangers whizzing
by.  I've actually come to think of them as Marty, so my icon of
summer isn't gone.  

from Angelo Santinelli:

	I didn't really know him

from Wendy Lynn Shlensky:

Martin was way cool.  The first time I saw Martin, was at a party 
to remain nameless with tons o' people yakking and drinking & in 
the middle of it all was Big Red Martin dancing his heart out & 
I thought Hey I really want to meet this guy. He seems sooo cool!!.  
I don't know how we met.  
We spent time at Bread & Puppet!  He shared his tent with us and 
I have the most awesome picture with the blue blue sky and the 
green green grass and the red red hair.  He was way too beautiful.
It was so warm!!
Big Red Martin.  You were the 2nd Martin.  The first was my roommate
and I was always meeting people with the same name and giving them 
nicknames.  It was a term of endearment. No harm meant!! I'm very 
sorry.  I loved you a great deal!!  You were mostly smilin' and 
happy and skatin and dancin'.
There are tons who miss you and your legacy!! Take care to all.
Abby says goodbye too.  We miss you.

from Jim Reische:

Hi. I was Martin's roomate at the time that he died. We had
been friends for about ten years.  We had even lived together
when we were in school at Michigan. I was also the person who
came home and found him. I wrote and read this eulogy at his
memorial service:
I, and some of the other people here today, have had the unwanted opportunity over the course of the last year to consider the fact that this day might come. But all that time, and the worrying and the hoping, in the end it couldn't do what, now, it seems that we needed it to do. We still weren't ready.

In the last couple of days none of us have been able to stop thinking about Martin and about what happened. He's in our thoughts, our words, our silences; in our dreams and our dreamless sleep.

I have some ideas about what happened on Wednesday in a general way, and I want to share them before I go on to the rest of what I have to say.

Sometimes problems have a way of escaping us, it happens in various ways: sometimes we take them and put them outside ourselves in the name of achieving "critical distance"; sometimes it happens out of denial; sometimes they start to grow inside us, and before we recognize them they've gone racing through us and around us, so that it seems we never had any hope of containing them from the start. But the point is that once these problems are released from the moorings of our beliefs and desires and personalities - the things that bind our lives inside us and keep them manageable - they begin to grow out of control and to challenge our faith in the ground beneath our feet. I believe that in some sense this is what happened with Martin: something began to get away from him. And because he was the kind of person who never turned away from anything he wasn't able to turn away from this, and it grew so big that it began to grind him down. It eroded his ability to resist. Some of us, at various times in the last year, began to hear the details of what he was wrestling with, and to try and convince him that the world wasn't really what it was seeming to him. Because we couldn't allow ourselves to accept it. It was impossible to listen objectively to what he was saying because it challenged our own views of the world. And Marty didn't want to accept it either, but it had grown so huge that it obscured his view of anything else. And in all the pain, the anger and confusion that people have expressed in these last days I think it would do us all well to think about this, because as it grew it was wearing him down. We have to remember this because we have to know how heroically he fought against it, and for how long. I think that it may have been growing for a long time, and that we only began to see it at the end, when it was so huge to him that he could no longer hide it from us; no matter that he wanted to so badly. The last thing that Martin wanted to do was hurt anyone: he did everything in his power to avoid it. And that's another reason to look at things this way, because the Martin that all of us knew never would have done this. It wore him down until he was helpless to fight against it. But he wanted to. I know he did. I saw it in his eyes.

There have been a lot of people who have wondered, out loud and to themselves, myself included: why couldn't we stop him; did we miss something; was there something more we could have done? And I look around this room and see all these people, I've talked to so many people in the last three days, and I know that the answer is no. Because with so many people who loved him so much, if there had been a way to stop him then we would have found it. There was simply no way to do it, short of tampering with the very things that made us love him so much.

And now we're here, and we have to make do without his help.

But as you look around today and see all these people, so many of us from such different places in life, I want you all to give it some thought, and to realize what an amazing gift Martin had, to be able to bring us together around himself. Martin's gift wasn't just computers or skateboarding or any one of the other things which Martin did so well. Martin's gift was Martin. And he gave himself to us so freely that he often amazed even pure strangers by his lack of guile. He caught people by surprise; they had never come across someone who so clearly had nothing to hide, no sinister intentions. None at all. And none of us will ever know such pure beauty again.

Martin still lives in that way, in the spaces between all of the people here; he's what brought us together. The greatest thing we can do for him - now and forever - is to preserve those bonds. We live in a world where people fall so easily into conflicts over their differences. But Marty found the thing that binds us all together, and we have to work to keep that bond alive. We have to do so not only for our own sake - that was always the case, whether we recognized it as such or not. Now we have to do it for Martin.

Take what you felt about him when he was in all his glory, raging across entire cities, leaving a smoldering trail of innocent bystanders behind him, pushing the limits of everything and making them give way to the power of his bad self. His eyes: looking at you prodding you, daring you to say whatever it was that you had on your mind. The skill with which he was able to get the hang of whatever it was he set his hand to, because he was able to go with it and to understand what it was all about at some essential level. He always took things so far that he seemed on the verge of disaster. but he so rarely stumbled. Take all of the memories home with you, and the lessons you learned, and the little ways he changed you, and the ways he brought you all together, and keep it and cherish it all, because it's what we have; he gave it to us. When the pain has dulled with time we'll still have all these gifts. And for that we should be thankful.

from jon:
it is strange. i stumbled upon this mysterious "marty" by a bizarre chain of and now, having read what you all have said, i realize i have been touched -- touched by someone i never knew.

this is not entirely true. i came to ann arbor in 87 and quickly was swallowed up into the thriving counter-culture that does indeed run true here. i know i have met the man you all describe, but i now regret never having taken those chance meetings any further.

from Elisabeth Pryor, Martin's sister:

Martin was my brother.  I have a lifetime
of memories of Martin.  In fact my first ever
memory is the day my parents brought him home
from the hospital when I was three. I remember
sitting in a big yellow chair and holding him
for the first time.  Needless to say, my life
was never the same after that.

     What I remember him for more recently is
as an uncle to my 8 year old daughter,
Amalia. He was wonderful with her, playful and
patient. He was more like a brother to her
than an uncle.  I have a picture of her
standing on his skateboard when she was two.

     We shared a wonderful christmas '94.  He
brought Amalia presents and made a gingerbread
house with her.  He spent all of Christmas day
at my house.  It was the best Christmas for my
family in recent memory.

    I had a baby in June.  We named him Eric
Martin in the delivery room because it was
immediately apparent that he had red hair (his
is straight).  When I was pregnant, Martin
said that he hoped I'd have a boy this time
because of "the nephew factor". I am very sad
that Eric will have no memories of his uncle.
Martin would have been great with him.

Martin, I miss you terribly,

                 I love you.


from Greg Schechter (

I barely knew Martin.  He probably
didn't even know me.  We were both at
U of M at the same time, and I have
vivid memories of this guy I didn't
know plunging off of the steps to the
Graduate Library on his skateboard, in
a dervish of impossibly red hair and the
drabbest imaginable green army surplus
coat, coming inches from herds of 
overdressed, overly self-conscious
undergrads.  Sitting and watching the
reactions was big fun.

Then, about four years later, he came
and interviewed with my group at Sun
Microsystems, to work on a project
implementing the PEX protocol.  A pure
engineering effort without much room
for creativity.  Clearly he wasn't the
right person for the job, and, for him,
it's a job that would have drained the

Two years later I ran into him and
Brad Horowitz (with whom I had
attended high school) at SIGGRAPH.
They were demonstrating this incredibly
cool system, and it seemed like just
the right match.

It sure sounds like you left those
close to you with an awful lot to 
remember you by ... and even those
who really didn't know you at all.

from laureen chapman:

I miss you Marty. Lately, I realize that it has been a few days since I've thought of you and that makes me feel sad. You were vibrant and alive and always just there, everywhere. I still can't believe that you are gone.

I've put your picture up on my whiteboard, and will turn and stare at it every once in a while - hoping that you'll tell me you didn't suffer at the end, wanting you to give me peace about your death. I think about that a lot and worry about you still. It's so ironic because I worried a lot about you last summer, after you told me how you'd been feeling. And I felt like I needed to check in on you - wanted to check in on you - hence my visits to your workstation just to say hi and bug you about nothing in particular. And I felt relieved because I noticed you were less pensive and more outgoing. All right! I thought, he's going to be okay....

So I look at your picture again, and remember you here. You had the deepest, darkest, brown eyes I have ever seen. And you had a lazy smile, that at times would start slowly and then just light up your whole face. You had a laugh that would just kind of bubble out at times, and strong hands. I remember the day you told me you were working out (were you really?) and showed me your muscles. We laughed at that. You had a quick wit and a keen sense of humor. And I remember you with that focused look on your face while you were hacking away, kind of aware that I was there asking you a question, and giving me an answer, but still focused on the work in front of you. I'm sad because you were going to show me how to use the WWW, and look at that, here I am, but it happened without you...

I have so many memories of you, Marty. Yes, I did see you as the wild and crazy guy, but you also shared with me your sweet, sincere side. You were never rude to me, never flippant, always willing to help with a computer problem (you never, ever turned me away because you were too busy). These are the memories of you I hold inside my heart...and here is the memory I want to share about Martin:

When I was in the last few weeks of my pregnancy, I used to go into Sandy's office (when he was away) and take a nap on the floor. Few people knew I disappeared for an hour or so. So I'm asleep on the floor and I hear someone talking to me - directly telling me to wake up. And the voice is crystal clear. Then the voice is singing wake up. Meanwhile, I'm waking up from being out cold and trying to figure out who is in the office with me and where they were. You can imagine the confusion. Ahh, it's coming from the computer, and it's Marty. So, now I'm paranoid and start talking to the computer -- Marty, what are you doing? Were you watching me sleep? Marty, can you see me? Hey - Hey, what's going on here? And Marty is just laughing and ragging on me. Then he tells me to hurry up because Sandy is on his way back to his office, and I struggle to get up from the floor. When I find Marty, he's having a great laugh. He started laughing even harder when he said he'd never seen a pregnant person move so quickly. I couldn't be mad at Marty, especially when he was laughing so hard- so I started laughing too.

Martin, I miss you, but you'll remain forever alive in the memories I hold inside.

from Will Kreth:


I first remember meeting Marty at SIGGRAPH Chicago in 1992, although I may have met him at the Media Lab a couple months earlier, when I was making color photocopies for the second prototype of Wired. In Chicago, Jane introduced me to Marty - and you could tell he had something intense going on behind those dark eyes. Louis would say "HEY RED" when we'd see him across the room. People naturally liked his energy - it wasn't hard to see why. He came out to San Francisco to visit the Wired office, and picked my brain about clubs to go out and go dancing. I saw him again at SIGGRAPH '93 in Anaheim, and he visited us again later that year, when we were just starting to plan HotWired. I was really hoping he would work for us - envisioning him hacking on our then neglected SGI Indigo, creating WWW pages and weird, byzantine CGI-BIN hacks. Unfortunately, the timing wasn't just right. He hung out for a couple of weeks, and then headed back to Cambridge. My last memory of Marty was laughing hysterically when seeing his photo in the Boston Globe as the head of the Stones MBONE multicast. The coincidence of his being in that picture and my happening to know who he was seemed totally normal.

Another personal coincidence, in retrospect, is the fact that my maternal grandmother died on Feb. 2nd. Learning so much about death these days, -- it's cliche, but I'm inbued with the spirit to value my friends' company well beyond the superficial and routine. This Web wall is a groovy tribute. I've learned a lot more about who he was, who his friends were, and how much he meant to everyone. What an mindblowing era we live in, when people can check in from all over the world and pay their respects.

We've printed the URL for this page in the tiny type column that runs horizontally across the pages of the Electric Word section of the April issue of Wired (page 43). Blaze on, Marty. We'll miss you.

from Jaume Ayerbe:

From Barcelona

First of I all I only had mailed Marty, I knew him troutgh the 6270 contest and I was very impressioned about his work in these hard days were WWW was only a dream. I always will rember Marty as the first person I knew by Internet. Thank you for every think marty;

from Cyrus Shaoul:
A memory: I remember Marty coming down to the basement of the Media Lab back in '91 and messing with my computers. Stephan and I loved it. I was a clueless UROP, he the cool guy with the skateboard. But he never looked down on me. Gave me a chance to prove that I wasn't a complete idiot. And here I am in Japan. The last time I talked to Marty was when I was trying to get the Stones Multicast sent to the Japaneses MBONE. I had told Stephan it was "no problem". But It was a bitch. I said "Stephan, you need somebody to get it working over there. I can't do it from Tokyo." We called him, and like a bulldozer, Marty came in, and in a week we had a working system. At the last minute we were all shouting across the ocean at each other: Tokyo to NYC, Tokyo to the Lab. He had never done any Multicasting before in his life. But from his workstation in the Media Lab he ran that Multicast like a King. I hope I contributed to one of the high points in his life. It was one of the high points of mine. Sometimes I think I see Marty in the patterns of the Web. In the way my packets bounce. "The empire never ended." Marty lives on in his crontab entries. One day he shall rise. Love, Cyrus

from Brendan Haley:

I didn't know Martin very well.  I used to seem him 
at the Middle East,  and at loft parties.

And although we weren't close,  Martin always seemed 
to brighten up otherwise boring or predictable

I know I speak for a lot of my friends 
who can't be here on the web:

We'll miss you Martin.

from Joe Chung:
I have a lot of quintessential Martin stories from when he working for us at Art Technology Group on this huge Virtual Reality exhibit (of course he did a killer job on it - it's on permanent display at the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry. The museum was one of Martin's favorite places. Mine too.)

I knew Marty from the Media Lab, but I was pretty surprised to discover that Martin had a following of people who would basically hang around and watch him program for hours and hours. This wasn't just like once or twice - they were around pretty much the whole summer. I guess I should mention that these people were all extremely attractive, young women.

This really used to drive the project manager nuts.

from robert zieger (

While Martin
and I were never close--even had a spat or two over the years, I must
confess--there was something dramatic, often admirable about him.
Most of all, I recall with fondness his inherent recognition of who
the enemy was and how to most effectively rile him.  The anecdote that
follows sums this ability up.  I consider it a victory for our team.
Those from Ann Arbor will recall Brother Jeb, arguably the most
noxious among the gaggle of zealous hate-mongering diag preachers.  On
a Spring day--perhaps in 1984 or 85, Jeb droning away to those who
would listen, slickly parrying the few contentious words hurled at
him.  Enter Martin.  He walked to the middle of the circle that had
formed, and greeted Jeb with that wild-eyed stare for which he was
known.  Sensing that he was about to meet his match, Jeb became
notably uncomfortable.  Martin continued the stare down until all were
silent around him.  Finally, he lept into action, pointing an accusing
finger at the good reverend, and cried, "You're bad; baaaaaaad.
You're a very bad man."  Perhaps simply stunned by this unexpected
intrusion (perhaps even secretly admitting the validity of his
assailant's claim!), Jeb stood open mouthed, fully defenseless.
Repeating his judgement a final time, Martin skipped away, leaving his
victim open-mouthed, bothered and confused.  A full thirty seconds
passed before Jeb could so much as utter a word.  And even then, a
defeated mutter ("Something wrong with that boy.") is the best he
could manage.  Martin had slain the beast.  Another warmly held
memory, I happen to have on tape.  At the CFG Halloween show in the
East Quad Cafe (1985) some may recall Martin entering the stage (quite
uninvited) and snatching the mike away from Lawrence, whereupon he
launced into a surprisingly musical tirade, the gist of which was "You
know, I don't really give a shit, no I really don't...about the band.
FUCK THE BAND! FUCK THE BAND!," etc.  It was brilliant then, and has
held up over the years on tape.  My copy is a fourth generation dub,
so many others likely have it.  But if anyone would like a copy,
please contact me at the address below.  At any rate, a couple of
memories to share.  My condolences and best wishes to all, especially
to his family and to those closest friends to whom the loss was no
doubt the greatest.

from robert s.:

Thrashing and ollying about the diag, that was the first sight
of the curly red haired yer boy in Ann Arbor with impressions
to remain my own.  Marty was the kind of dudeman who liked pizza
with his crushed hot peppers. another vivid point in time, 'golfing'
with JB and jen post-top of the park in'89 at his apartment on
east university.  later that year i moved him out to cambridge.
the ride was quite revealing, truths be spoken, not kept inside
like some perverted treasure.  There was also a keen skill of his
to annoy.  On that trip eastward he played some game where if a
vehicle in on-coming traffic had a headlight out, he'd slap
the ceiling of the car and point to the culprit.  cute. as cute as
the belch he let rip in my caravaning housemate's approaching face
when marty rolled the window down in frozen buffalo.  later i asked
martin if he had ever heard of the game 'drops', then expounding on
the great things buffalo had to offer, that it would not be all too
bad if he found himself there instead of cambridge. he caught on real quick.
  In his passing, the physical contact expires but the influence
persists, even if it is ever so slight.
 there will be no more email with dick nixon nor snaps to xfer nor
tales of travel to share.
  later, mon!

from Marcia Mardis (

It is interesting to see many members of the compelling
80s/East Quad tribe have reassembled here.  As I watched all
of you with a little girl's awe, I could not help but watch
Martin as well.  Two memories stick: I remember
Martin coming out of the stairwell of the parking structure
Forest Street clutching a wrinkled paper bag containing his
lice ridden dreads.  he'd let you peek in the bag like the little boy
in James and the Giant Peach.  The second memory is of going into my kitchen
one morning to find Marty sitting at our kitchen table
enjoying a bowl of cold Kraft Dinner into which
he kept dumping Old El Paso picante sauce. I think
he stayed at my house that night.  He never did say.
Like many valuable facets in life, I have come to truly appreciate
Martin's unique ways only after he is gone.  I hope he succeeded
in paving his own part of the world.

from John Logie (

I didn't know Martin well, but, like 
everyone in Ann Arbor in the early '80s,
I knew of him.  My favorite memory of
Martin taks place on a spring day in the
Diag.  Some frat has hauled a car into
the middle of the campus, and they're
preparing to sell its destruction - three
whacks with a sledgehammer for a buck - 
with the proceeds going to "charity," natch.
As the brothers are getting their sales
booth organized, Martin comes clacking down
the sidewalk.  He sees the car, evaluates
the situation, and in a red (hair) and
olive drab (jacket) blur, he's skateboarding
ON the car, riding up onto the hood, trying
his level best to scar, crack and damage
whatever he can.  One of the more timid
frat boys begins whining to Martin that he 
can't smash the car without paying first.
Martin ignores him, and continues to thrash
away.  Eventually larger and larger frat
boys attempt to take issue with Martin,
to "talk sense," to get him to "be 
reasonable," and ultimately, to fuck him up.  
At the point where real violence seems
about to break out, Martin swoops down the
hood, onto the sidewalk, and clack-
clack-clack-clack, he's on his way.  It
was classic guerilla theater, invented
on the, funny and dangerous.
I guess that's the story.

from Ben Feinberg:

Martin really annoyed people.  I think
he lived in a room with Donny Blose.  
The walls were covered with beer posters
and things like that but suspended in 
odd shapes like paper airplanes.  I went
in there a few times but didnt talk to 
him much because he seemed bewildered by all
the people who would hang out in that room.
Then I would see him crouching on the TV for many
minutes at a time staring at people, or 
messing with people while they waited on line.
He better not fuck with me, we would say.
Or we would think, I hope he doesn't fuck with me.
I didn't know him very well at that time.

from Baback Moghaddam:

I was digging around my files for some Martybilia, when I realized that I had some very recent images of him from last October and some anecdotal memories to go with them. Here they are.


I saw martin in a2 often. He seemed like a fixture there.
I seldom spoke w/ him til we both lived in boston. 
I remember many coincidental meetings there, the last a few days before I moved to Chi.
When I saw him in hyde park I felt more like family
meeting his parents and seeing where he grew up made me feel like
I knew him in high school.
I had planned on knowing him much longer.
I wish I had known him more a person less as a persona
less as a memory.


from Rob Walker (

I did not meet Marty until 2330, 17FEB95, while browsing the W^3. Met him through the camera page Tabitha shares with him.

I may have met him a few days too late, but yet I sit here in my home and wipe a tear from my eye.

I miss you, Marty.

from Nancy London:

I remember having some debate with Martin 
and I said "if you took a survey, you would find 
that the average person..." as proof of some
point I was desparately trying to make.  
He responded, "if you took a survey, you would find that 
I'm not the average person."  And he had me there.
I'll never meet anyone remotely similar to
Martin again.

from Erik Trimble (

Marty's first impression on me was when
several of us went out for Mexican burritos. Marty had
his with lots of beans. On the way back, I managed
to hook Marty into a conversation about the Web.
(Not that ever getting him to expound was a problem.)
I consider that 10 minute talk the most enlightened
bit I have ever heard about All Things Electrical.

Heaven's 'Net must have been down, and they needed the
best. Well, they certain got him. Though I wonder
how St. Peter will deal with thrash marks on the Pearly
Gates from Marty's skateboard.

Hope to see you again sometime, Marty.

from John Maeda,

Me and Martin used to program together all nite long
during the winter of 1989. He used to always mutter to
his terminal about who was "da man", and would hint
that irfan, bradley, stan, or me, just might be "da
man". But paradoxically, he always concluded, "no, you
da man", and point to whoever might be in standing in
front of him.

  But without question, 
  Martin was da man. 

The systems he created were certainly
incredible. But one can only full
begin to grasp the brilliance of Martin
by looking at his code. No one could
write code as compact, as quick, and as
awesome as Martin Friedmann. 
I will miss you Martin. And I will remember you forever.


from Jon Orwant:

I looked through his home directory soon
after I learned of his death. 
There was one file created a few hours 
before he died.  A suicide note?  Nope.
A disk-usage tally for some filesystem.

I looked again a few minutes later.  
There was a new file: ~/.spygame,
which contained a list of timestamps of
every time someone peeked in his
homedir, including the "ls -lart" I had
just executed.

It's kind of eerie.  
Marty is survived by his own unix hacks.

from Scott Kaylor:

I didn't know Martin as well as most of his friends, but he was a close friend of my sisters. What I did know of him had inspired me to learn all I can about the world of computer graphics. From what I saw of Martin was a person with a special gift and someone who had a talent that matched no others. Martin had a tremendous impact on me I hope to be able to continue my difficult journey with the same inthusiasm that he did. Scott Kaylor

from Herbert C. Friedmann:

I am glad to send you my talk for the virtual memorial wall for Martin on the world-wide-web as a small homage to him. It is good to feel that some people may derive a little bit of comfort from it. I know how to download from email to hard disk, but I have never learned how to upload. I should have asked Martin. So, I am typing it now from my print-out, and hope to avoid typos:

Words spoken at the Memorial Service for Martin, February 4, 1995, by his dad

from Jane Metcalfe:

The first time I saw Marty, he just appeared
at my side during the Media Lab's 5th anniversary,
skateboard in hand, hair flying, wild
imagination shining through his eyes, and
we bonded instantly (as he did with all 
his friends). He was outrageous and
generous and brutally honest and
brilliant and he wouldn't let any shit
stand in the way. 

He would have liked this wall. 

I wonder when he'll hack it. 

from Bradley Horowitz:

I find it hard to understand how the earth can keep spinning without Martin on it... Here is the eulogy I read at the Memorial Service...

Memory from freshman year, University of Michigan, 1983

Each afternoon a group of coeds would gather to watch soap operas in the dorm's TV lounge... There was a television bolted to the wall in the front of the room, encased in a metal cage to prevent theft. While these people sat engrossed in this absurd melodrama, Martin climbed up and sat there perched on the TV. He sat there with legs straddled on each side of the set, looking at them looking at him. He sat there for maybe half an hour. Every five minutes he would bend over and press his nose against the screen, and feign interest in the program...

from gina:

Martin Friedmann was my partner in a big
funny mind fuck called PILL...pioneers 
on the frontier of brain chemistry...we 
were manic-depressives...insane, according 
to all the parasites who run this obviously 
sane world.  We wanted to find out how to 
control the demons so we could dance and sing 
and fuck with people for a long 
I'm parking in handicapped spaces all over 
cambridge for you...and me...I'm sort afraid 
now without you...but I won't let them take 
my brain either and I'm right behind you if 
they the mean time I'm going to 
seriously kick some BUTT! mart-e, is there 
sugar in heaven?????????

from Mark Eli Kalderon:

The first time I saw Martin he was standing on a table in the East Quad cafeteria dancing and screaming and eating a bowl of cereal while anxious student workers were desperately trying to coax him down. Martin was a force of nature...I miss him terribly.

from Roz Picard,

Marty, dude, at first I was mad you took off without saying goodbye. You know we all admired and loved you, your hackery, and yer uninhibited play. You looked happy that last day when we saw you; we're still painfully confused that you left so soon. Thanks for giving us so much while you were here -- you were so very "here." I snagged a few old Emails you had sent us that made us laugh. You know I've still got orange spots on my ceiling from when we sprayed my hair the color of yours. I look at them and wonder if this world was meant for you. Thanks for changing it the way you did.

If anybody wants to come by & share Marty stories, please do --

from Claudio Pinhanez:

My most vivid impression, the moment when I was definitely conquered by him, it happened during last year's Media Lab Christmas Party. He appeared dressed as Santa Clauss, giving stickers and candies. A big smile, and lots of surprised smiles in response. Giving, that's the word to describe him, which I learned during that special night.There should be a law against dying young.

from Joe Chung:
It's guess it's no coincidence that virtually all my memories of Marty are happy if not hilarious ones. It's funny to have such high and low feelings at the same time - perhaps that was how Marty felt inside. I have a lot of media from Marty's work at Art Technology Group that I'll link from here.

from Chris Wren:
Getting smeared by the green guy; that's how I first got to know Marty. Sometimes after long Doom sessions I had nightmares about the green guy. Marty was damn good.

I haven't known Marty as long as some of the other people around here, But I know he was one of those rare people who made the world a neat place to be. I'll miss him, and I think a great many people who never knew him will miss him too, even if they don't realize it.

See ya' later Marty.


I remember sitting with Marty in the
basement of East Engin in Ann Arbor.
It was the evening of the day when I
got my first account. Marty told me to
login, then he asked if he could see
something and took over the keyboard.
Before I knew it he had changed my
password and wouldn't tell me what it

He was always doing shit like that.
Teaching us lessons against our will.

Maybe he's doing that now. I would like
to believe that he did what he did to
spare us all from some greater sorrow
that he thought he saw on the horizon.

from Tom Libert,

I remember the late night hackfests at CITI. I remember running into Marty on the street in Cambridge. "Stop the car!" I shouted. "That's GOT to be Marty!" Red hair flying, pushing his board. We met various places after CITI, usually at SIGGRAPH. I remember Anaheim, and the amazing virtual reality world Marty worked on. I remember the Virtual Tabatha hack and the Stones home page. He was one of the most interesting people I've ever known.

from Trevor Darrell:
Marty brought life and laughter to our lives in vismod...he was unique and will be missed.

from |> oug /\ lan:

Marty was always messing with my stuff.
Moving things in my office from one
place to another so that I could not
find them.  Fiddling with my programs
when I was away from my keyboard.  He
would drop my pennies into the door
frame, where they will remain until the
building is demolished.  Sometimes when
I drove home from work, I would see him
skating to the Cambridge Food Club.  I
will miss him.

from Monika Gorkani:
Then you went away, Like a pocketful of dust, Blown by the wind. Wish you were still here, Zooming down the hallways, Skateboard and freezy hair. We're going to miss you Marty!

from Baback Moghaddam:

Marty ... I know you must be reading this web page from somewhere in Hacker Heaven, so I wanted to let you know that we all love you and miss you a great deal (by the way, for your sake, I hope they have a better browser up there!). I just know that you're now busy hacking the Afterlife for the rest of us. Because that's just the kind of guy you are!

This song's for you : Cherry-Coloured Funk (Cocteau Twins). I know it's one of your favorite tunes.

from bruce howard:

this is not real poetic...

this just doesn't seem real...i've known
marty for eight or more years.  i've crashed
most of his apartments at one time or another.

we skated, we hacked, we golfed our way
to "baloon spas" together (though we never made
it to new orleans on the same trek)

marty was a founding member of the mad
scientists health and travel club.

marty had the best damned ollie this planet
has seen.

i remember hanging out on the train tracks
in a^2 down near the blind pig one night
while he was heading out to the blues
fest in ch.  skated all over the westside
until we assaulted omar in his car at an 
intersection on main street...i remember skating mit
and kendal sq and everywhere else in boston.

the more i sit and type, the more i remember.

marty, you had so much life and that is
what i will remember.  i simply can't
believe your gone and if you were, i
can't believe you would go like this.

the last message i have from marty is 
just a few days before he died.  he said
he might visit yumi and i in london...

i'm still in memories...i can't say goodbye.

maybe later.

see ya someday marty...

                     yer boy in london

from TabathaHoltz:
I just wanted to add: If anyone would like to contact me and exchange memories of Marty, please email me at

from Tabatha Holtz:
Though Marty and I never actually met face to face or even spoke on the phone, we were friens in every sense of the word. We met through the Rolling Stones page, I'd just gotten Netscape and was eager to reak havoc on the web. I did the fill-out form thing for the first time, left my URL and email address with a flame about something someone had written promoting their company. Mary discovered I had a camera at my desk and before I knew it, was creating the Automagical Tabatha MPEG Movie Maker. We continued corresponding, discussing both our professional and personal lives. He told me about his girlfriend, I told him about my boyfriend and son, we shared our lives in a virtual world. I love you and miss you, Marty. Love, Tabatha.

from peter honeyman:

i remember marty's energy.

and his skateboard.
and his wild hair. 
and his wild ways.  

i missed marty when he left ann arbor. 

i miss him more now,
and i guess i always will.

from Spencer Thomas:

Marty was one of the most creative, unique
people I've been privileged to work with.
Life was never dull around him.
I'm sure going to miss him.

             It just doesn't make sense.

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