night 1 of FC i didn't have much to do & i was tired from my flight, so i thought i'd just have a little wander & poke around before i went to bed. i'd had a drink & was enjoying looking at all the beach-related things they'd set out in the zoo. this was my 2nd ever FC, & i was once again delighted by all the interactable things they put out (my favorite this year was the green screen mirrored with the giant TV so you could see yourself surfing a gnarly wave :P)

i saw the ofrenda in the corner, approached, & immediately felt emotional. i've been very fortunate to have not lost someone close to me unexpectedly, & that applies to the furry community as well; i didn't recognize most of the photos in the frames, & of the ones i did, i never knew the people in them personally. what struck me about those pictures wasn't just that the people in them had all died, but that they were all missed. each of them had at least one person alive today who wished they were still here to enjoy another FC.

i read a little bit about spottacus's life months ago when he passed. we had no connection except that i occasionally saw him in passing, & noted not only the uniqueness of his suit but the energy he seemed to always have. i was touched reading about the art he brought to burning man & what he had to say about it, the lines he connected between furries & burners. i nearly cried at the ofrenda reading those words again, on a simple white plaque that bore damage & wear from the playa. it was an artifact that contained both an explanation of his art but also has become a piece of art in itself: an object with physical & communal history, a remnant of someone we lost. i'm grateful to whoever thought to keep it & left it at the ofrenda.

another memento on the table that caught me by surprise was a simple sketch of a winged lion looking off into the sunset; it was addressed to simba, & the words said something like "lost once, & lost again." i can't remember the exact words, i wish i'd taken a photo or written it down. this appeared to be a tribute to simba lion, a controversial figure in the community who lost his life in 2019.

i had a minor connection to simba. he was one of the old guard of the michigan furs who helped galvanize the community in the early 2000s, in the days of forums & newsletters--an era before my time. he would later move to atlanta for a while, & the MI furs scene continued on without him, growing & changing & dividing & growing some more. when he moved back to michigan shortly before his death, he caused quite a stir trying to get involved again; he was banned from the local fur bowl after causing a scene, & pre-emptively banned from many of the telegram groups for the things he was saying on his blog, tailpuff(dot)net--it is now defunct, but you can still find his old posts on the internet archive. i admit i laughed with a few friends about a lot of the things he was saying. he didn't engender much sympathy at the time with his misogynistic & other ramblings, his claiming to be 19 forever despite the reality of passing time, his interest in guns & desire to carry them around (especially combined with his indulgence in hallucinogens), his nihilism toward the rest of humanity, & frankly he could be kind of an asshole. i read through a long thread documenting various other things he'd said or done over the course of his life. someone who was in an IT furs chat with him talked about his superiority complex, & how he would ask for feedback on his code only to tell anyone who critiqued it that they simply weren't engaging with it correctly. i read a post from someone who claimed to have gone on a date with him in high school, who said he seemed like a pretty normal guy at the time, just a little awkward & *really* into the lion king. i read another post from an old friend of his who fell out of touch years ago--the tone was sad: they wanted simba to see a therapist & begged him to multiple times, but he'd refused. one of the last things he did before he died was post a link to a discord server in the local furs facebook page. he saw division in all the splintered telegram chats & social media groups & wanted to reunite the local furry scene again like he'd done in the 2000s. most of us understand why this is an impossible task--the scene both in the fandom & on the internet at large has changed too much, & he had the additional setback of a poor reputation among his peers. a charitable way to view it was that he had an optimistic vision of uniting the community; an uncharitable way to view it was that he wanted to recapture the self-importance he felt in those early days. the discord got maybe 30 members at most.

he died in 2019 at age 40 when he opened fire on two police officers. he only grazed one, but their return fire put him in the hospital, where he eventually succumbed to his wounds. i feel bad now for laughing at the time--he had legally changed his name to simba lion, leading to some unfortunate headlines that were morbidly funny when you forgot the fact that he was a human being. the more i thought about it though, & the more i learned about the circumstances of his death, the more i felt bad for him. his parents had both already passed & he didn't have much family left, & certainly no one was checking in on him. if he made any friends in atlanta, they didn't follow him to michigan, & his attempts to make connections here or rekindle old ones failed. even his cat, who'd lived with him for 20 years, had recently passed. i read many of the articles on his shooting. both he & a maintenance worker at his apartment placed 911 calls, both of which i listened to; when the maintenance worker (an exterminator, if i remember right) tried to get access to his apartment to do his job, simba reacted with fear & violence, prompting the first call. on simba's 911 call, he was saying things like "they're after me," "they're trying to record me," etc.

i thought about him many times after. it was clear he was in a steady mental decline, driving others away in his attempts to connect & sinking further into paranoid delusion until eventually his perspective was too disconnected from reality. sometimes i wonder if he could've been helped. perhaps if we had better mental healthcare in this country, but would he have willingly sought out that help? perhaps if someone better trained to handle a mental health crisis had approached his door instead of a cop, but would he have shot at them too? perhaps if he'd listened to his old friend & gone to a therapist he'd have been in a better state, but if he wasn't willing to listen to a friend, would he listen to a therapist? we should always try to help others, but sometimes i fear there are certain people who are simply beyond help, who are set for a tragic destiny no matter what we do. the words on that drawing at the ofrenda spoke the simple truth of his life: he was lost in more ways than one. i don't know who left that drawing there, but i wish i could say thank you. it deeply affected me, a simple piece of evidence that someone out there remembered & missed their friend simba, that even this mentally ill man shunned by so many made a positive impact on someone. you further humanized him to me, & for that i'm grateful.

at other cons i've seen little shrines & tributes appear to a fur who has recently passed, but this was the first time i saw one that was open to anyone who was missed. i think it's really important that, amidst the music & friendship & incredible art we go to fur cons to experience, we take a little time to remember those who're no longer here to enjoy them with us. taking that moment at the beginning of the weekend to drink it in deepened my experience of this con & made me feel that much more joy & appreciation for all my friends who are still here.

thank you for reading. if you knew simba lion or spottacus or any other fur who's passed & you have something positive to say about them, i'd love to read it.