I can't say I knew Marc de Groot as well as I'd have liked to. I knew he was hurting inside, but I was under the -- obviously -- misunderstanding he was dealing with his inner daemons. He'd had a drinking problem when I first met him, but eventually he licked that, and there was much celebration. He started going by "Davka" as part of emerging from his old self.
I watched from a distance as Marc got kind of pushed of a social circle I've been a part of for many years. He wasn't kicked out, per se, but folks who only knew the "old Marc" were wont to accept the man who'd emerged from behind the bottle.
The last time I spoke with him was in a very long phone conversation. He was still living in San Francisco and was about to leave the area, but he asked if I'd like to chat again. I said, "Sure," but somehow that next chat never happened. Now it never will.
For those of you who knew him, a memorial service is being held this Sunday at 1pm at Temple Beth Hillel in Richmond, followed by burial across the street at Rolling Hills Cemetary.