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Our friend, Silverbullet - Tom - is no longer with us.
With infinite sadness and by precise desire of his daughter, I announce this to all of you here.
I think that maybe we, all of us, must acquire conscience of how each of us has become important to each other.
Read what Tom's daughter, Tanja, wrote to me: I would appreciate it very much if you would let the group know of his passing and how much he enjoyed being part of it.

Farewell, Tom.
No. Goodbye.

Goodbye old friend. Rest in Peace.
Wir werden Dich vermissen

Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.

~Rabindranath Tagore

Vila i frid! Rest in Peace, Silverbullet!

It's hardly a surprise. We've known this day was coming. So why have I been staring glumly at the screen for the last three hours? Because of somebody I never met, about whom I know almost nothing, who I wouldn't have known if I'd walked past in the street? Because he was my friend, dammit. And he will be missed.

I like to think of him looking fondly down on us, and telling his new friends what life was really like at the dawn of the Federation. Thanks for letting us share the adventures that your imagination took you on, Tom.

In case it's any small consolation, I can tell you that there is at least one more story of Tom's still to be published.

He is missed. Thanks for letting us know, Asso.

Aw Damn.

That's very sad news.

Tom is onto his next adventure. He was a fascinating guy!

I looked for quotes to describe my best wishes for Silverbullet but found none except Rest in Peace. But then, that really doesn’t describe him either because I remembered the first time I recognized him on the boards, at least the spirit behind the different I.D.: spirited, opinionated but with a kind heart. All I can say is I’ll miss him here, and now at least he is free from the maladies that plagued him, for heaven is the place where nobody is sick and dies.

I couldn't have said it better, dialee.

Rest in peace, Tom.

I am so sorry. I just found out by reading someone's signature tagline. Maybe everyone thought I knew and so didn't tell me.

I was good friends with Silverbullet, but lost touch after I left this site. I tried to get him to come over to facebook, where I was spending so much time, but he was adamant in his dislike of facebook.

I used to call and talk with him some weekends. He was a very interesting and intelligent man who had a wealth of experiences around the world and going back further than any of the rest off us in time. We would talk about world events and history and he spoke bitterly of the bad old days before civil rights. I knew that he was a young at heart trapped in an aging body that was failing him. Once he wrote himself into a story and asked us to guess which character was him. I knew immediately that "he" was was one of the "polite Airmen" putting quarters in the jukebox in a restaurant. He was happy I guessed it.

My happiest and most rewarding experience with Silverbullet was editing "Mestral's Adventures." The story originated from a challenge from Distracted. I was touched that she thought of such a perfect challenge for him: to fill in what happened to Mestral and Maggie after the end of "Carbon Creek." Of course he was perfectly suited for this assignment as he lived through the 50s when this story takes place and he was eager to enlighten the rest of us about that time period in the US. So he came to me with his first draft (or maybe it was just the plot) announcing that Mestral would move to Pittsburgh. Which is MY town. Of course, I said, "OOOooo, oooo! Me! Me! I want to help." In fact, I wanted to cowrite it, but he wouldn't let me. But I did collaborate so that Mestral moved into Squirrel Hill, the neighborhood I lived in in the late 60s. So I figured between Silverbullet knowing about the 1950s, and me knowing about Pittsburgh 10 years later we could construct a pretty believable story. And he did write a beautiful story that, as his editor, I am quite proud.

It was rewarding knowing Silverbullet. I never had a friend quite that old. He had volume of heard-earned experiences that gave him a unique perspective on life that he was eager to share. And he shared that perspective with us through the stories he wrote. I am so glad that he got to write those stories, becoming a writer late in life despite being legally blind. I don't know if everyone is aware just what a technical challenge this was. He literally could only see a few words on the screen at a time using a magnifying glass. He could not look at the screen as a whole and easily find the button he needed to click, which is why many of us helped him post his stories at fanfiction.net. I want to thank everyone who worked with him to get stories edited and posted, because it meant so much to him. He was so full of stories. Everytime I talked to him, he said, "I have so many stories in my head. It's hard to get them all down." Because of this site and the members here, he was able to fulfill his dream of telling many of those stories.

I knew this day was coming and I dreaded it, which helps explain how I just found out he is gone. I will also remember his optimism and encouragement. He kept to himself just difficult his life was with all his ailments and would often answer a "How are you doing?" with something like "I woke up again today, which makes it a great day." I aspire to age as gracefully. We all loved him and he will be sorely missed.

Yes, Tom's head was full of stories, all nice and hard and bitter and shrewish and sincere and honest and strong and vivid and sweet and sad and cheerful and gripping... like his old/young soul.

Yes, Asso, exactly. You understand exactly. I'm sorry for your loss too. I know he was a good friend.