In reponse to the notice posted on ellen_datlow's LJ, madrobins posted a wonderful memory:
My memory of Tom will always be colored by an afternoon that he and Stan Shaffer--a fellow Clarionite--spent at a junior college in New Jersey at a symposium on speculative literature. Stan had introduced me to to Tom, and he had a slight "don't embarrass me in front of my friend" air about him. So when the symposium was over and we were walking over the lawn--a series of immaculately groomed hills--and I put down my bag and books and lay down and rolled down the green, Stan was appalled. And then Tom, bless him forever, said "Oh, yes," handed his stuff to Stan, and rolled down the hill too. I think we went up and down that hill a few times, and Stan finally joined in.
I know Tom was depressed these last few years; I'm so happy to have this joyful recollection to pair with his extraordinary writing.
I have a very strong memory of rolling down a hill at Carnegie-Mellon University with cyano and several of her friends one night, ages ago, back when I was still in high school. My high school sweetheart had just dumped me (for the first time), and getting the hell out of town for the weekend seemed like a remarkably good idea. We tore around campus goofing off the way geeks do, and at some point decided that rolling down the hill was a logical thing to do. It was; if you haven't done it lately, give it a shot.
Nuggets of joy where you can, folks. I'm sorry Disch found his too brief and too few.
ETA: Some of Disch's poetry.