I met Drew the first day they plunked me down at my new Senior Copywriting job at Modem Media in East Norwalk, Connecticut. Spring was raging, and this was one of those perfect, sharp blue sky days that you felt like the trees and grass had heard the starting gun after a long New England winter--you could practically feel them stretching toward the sky. Because this was my first day, I was a little overdressed, and though i wore a ready smile--i was scared and alone, in a new place, in a new job, and surrounded by pro's who had been in the Interactive ad business since the beginning. The HR person introduced me around to my fellow quadricle neighbors. Abby, Josh, Robert and Drew. Robert and Abby nodded cooly at me; Josh eeked out a sardonic wince, most likely due to the fluorescent lights illuminating his morning after a hazy weekend exploring the full line of products in the Heineken account, where he was one of the lead writers. But it was only Drew who talked to me. "Hey man--i hear you came from Digitas..." he said. "let's compare scars sometime" he smiled. My world was immediately made more familiar with that. Drew had been in the trenches at Modem's fiercest competitor in NYC; I had been a resident in the Boston headquarters. We had both been put on the street only a few years before when the Internet shed its shaky skin. So in Drew i knew i had found a friend, and it made me settle in a little easier, even before my email was up and running. The thing that struck me more than anything about Drew was that he seemed to effortlessly make me feel comfortable, despite his own visible discomfort. Drew was wheelchair-bound, and probably had been for most of his life. Though his eyes sparked, his body was for the most part, misshapen, his legs and one arm, limp and unusable. I never knew the full extent of his challenges, but i knew that he had probably never walked, and probably had never experience a single moment of the kind of normality we take for granted. Despite the issues he faced on his own, Drew never let it get in the way of work. He made everyone around him better at what they did. Even with a single hand, and a crooked position from the corner of his motorized chair, Drew was easily one of the best designers i had run across in my career--he could challenge any of the Cal Arts Photoshop freaks i had worked with at Nike, Y&R and Digitas. His technical prowess with interactive programs was once described to me as a "psychic connection"--he was that good. And not only could Drew manipulate these programs with true mastery, he also did it faster than those with working fingers and arms. But it was neither his technical skills nor his innate artistic gifts despite his handicap that made him remarkable to work with: it was the humor he wielded that truly synergized the whole creative department at Modem. It was uncanny: here was this guy working through a broken body matching or exceeding the speed of the best designers on the floor--but the entire time he was tossing off sardonic verbal jabs while he was working that were so comically barbed you had to wonder if some paid comedian was throwing their voice like a ventriloquist through him. His ability to multi-task the dryest scripting work in Flash while constructing barbed sarcasm was legendary, and nothing was sacred: clients, his own ACD and our own guitar-playing SVP/Creative were all common targest of Drew's humor. His humor helped lighten every insipid client requests, every impossible deadline, and even illuminated the ongoing mystery of why there were yards of used dental floss on the men's bathroom floor every morning. He cared not of the guilty parties who did not concur with his rapier wit--because, as we all knew, they clearly knew less than Drew did both about the nature of creating great work, or simply the nature of people. Even when they moved me into an office, I often wandered over there to see what was going on. One morning, I came in and one of the CD's was pushing Drew at full speed up and down the corridors between the desks. All you could hear were peels of laughter and screaming as Drew skimmed past unsuspecting accounting department drones, and through the creative department, while people were yelling "PHOTO FINISH!!!" and "GO GO GO!!" as he was shot past them, nearly taking out several printing stations to the chagrin of the bean counters. So, as all things do, my time at Modem Media came to an end later that summer, as i accepted another position with Y&R in California. When i told Drew, he gave me a hearty wink. We both took delight in the fact that i was walking away from the company even as Digitas had purchased Modem--and this time on my own terms instead of on unemployment. The best revenge was--this time--living well. And though I didn't spend a long time at Modem--my memories of the place were good--and would always be filled with the spark that Drew brought to my time there, and the comfort and humor he so generously bestowed on us. So it was with great sadness that I heard of Drew's passing last week, while he took a much-needed vacation. God was gracious enough to take Drew in his sleep, and those who were enchanted by him, all agreed that he was indeed in a better place. I personally think Drew will come back to the world as the next Hugh Hefner. Drew, if you can hear me through the laughter you are bringing to the new group of folks you're working with now--please save a spot for me just across the divider from you--I'll bring the donuts, buddy. Peace.