This story reminds me of my early gaming clan days.
We communicated with in game chats in the late 90s early 00s. Joined Forums and early TS and later Ventrilo. Old VOIP.
I’m a poor historian, but needless to say we bonded over original Rogue Spear/RVS and some CoD 1. BF1942. WC3. Diablo 2. UT2003.
Basically a weird mesh of Las Vegas, Canada, Sacramento and a guy we called Kiwi from New Zealand.
We played a small selection of games and consistently helped each other with setting up and optimizing systems. I was just an early grad school student in my 20s. They were grizzled veterans of an age long gone.
They’d wax about computers the size of entire rooms. Of writing and using FORTRAN. Running games on Linux for the challenge.
They were 60ish then. Probably 85 or gone now. OG gaming nerds. Anywho, I watched slowly as either finances, deaths of spouses, or illness took them one by one. (Outside a sister clan all being Gaga for one girl who eRP for that clan full of people that obviously were there for her)
Steam became a thing. We didn’t need CDs anymore. And no punkbuster. I finally got a real job. Couldn’t play much anymore.
Nevertheless, these friends slowly stopped logging in. 5 years 10 years. Almost 20 without logging in. My friends list is difficult to look at and I’m too sad to remove them.
Facebook messages with condolences from grieving relatives with the few I really trusted became a yearly occurrence. Even our FB group faded. A vibrant larger community down to just 20 people now. From thousands.
I made a large map with 6 unique worlds in the unreal editor and placed a dedication to all those I lost. May they rest and be kicking back beers and yelling “blue on blue!” or giving each other crap and things I can’t say on this esteemed forum.
To the old guys. The old army dudes. The fubars. The 82nds, the f25s, the tac guys, the IEs, the whiskey tango foxtrots and even the Laid Backs, the obsoletes, to Valk, and even to Korgan and Bubba who played on Bronzebeard in Vanilla. To switch. To Mr P. Hotsnot. And Gator. I will never forget those years. Staying up to 5 AM when classes started at 9 AM
It was worth it. And now, I play alone. It just isn’t the same. They’re all truly gone. Those of us left. We’re the old farts now.
My friend at work was 2 years old when I started playing his favorite flight simulator with my clan. And every year flies by. It might be 2025. But sometimes it feels like 1995 in my mind and Doom 2 Gotcha is running on my 286 and Netscape is asking me if I want to download images or leave them as Xs
