Our Friend, Pat Gruber
by Stephen Henninger
Our friend.
I thought a lot about how, and what, to write here about Pat Gruber. I considered the title “My Friend,” but that would not be fair to Pat or his many, many friends here. So, I decided to change it to a more truthful title, because Pat really was a friend to everyone at the Con.
I can’t tell the story from everyone’s perspective. I can only tell it from mine. Hopefully, it will give you some insight into what kind of a man and a friend Pat was, and how big of a hole his absence has left behind.
We met in High School, even though he went to St. Bernard’s and I went to Hill-Murray. Pat and I couldn’t have been more different. He liked Def Leppard, and I liked Judas Priest. But he was funny, always happy, and boy – could he drink beer!
We didn’t see much of each other after High School because we got jobs and life just got in the way. I collected comics and worked at a hotel. Across the street from St. Paul Comics, the first Con Pat ever did was put on by the owner of St. Paul Comics. I helped Pat set up there. He told me afterward that it was his first Con. But, again, life got in the way. I changed jobs and moved. I didn’t see much of Pat for a few years.
I got married and was soon divorced. One of the first people to come to check on me and see how I was doing was Pat. This was the first time Pat was there for me, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time. That was Pat in a nutshell – always there for a friend.
Soon after, I moved in with him. We were roommates for five years. During that time, I had many ups and downs, and Pat was there for me – especially in the down times. I had a bad breakup; Pat was there. I lost a job; Pat was there. I got arrested; Pat was there. I needed a car; Pat was there to help me financially.
Don’t get me wrong, though – there were plenty of ups, too. Playing poker was one of those. He was honestly a great player. He was fearless.
