Herb Meehan Memorial Fund
Donation protected
"To die would be a great adventure." Herb would know the reference, and appreciate it, and likely offer Captain Hook's reply, "Death is the only adventure."
On 7 May, 2017, Herb Meehan crossed out of this world, on to that great adventure.
Herb had five loves in his life, so far as I know, valued in this order: his wife; people; technology; sci-fi; and cooking.
I won't presume to convey the love he held for his wife. Theirs was a special, and closely-held relationship.
But as to other people, I can speak. At eVisit, Herb was universally admired as the embodiment of eVisit's core values. He lifted the concept of "customer love" to new heights. Our customers will grieve his passing more deeply than they would my own, or anyone else's at eVisit. He had an extraordinary way with people. It was not smooth. Not practiced. Even mildly awkward, as often as not. But it was genuine in a way that most of us will never achieve, and that won him friends wherever he looked. You know he loved helping people, you'd never doubt it—you could see it on him, and he had no talent for subterfuge.
He loved tech. But more than that, he loved applying it to his love of people. He published an app to help diabetics. He built a Holy Bible app. And he worked for eVisit as our escalated support guru—a position requiring both people skills and tech skills—helping doctors see their patients, and patients see their doctors. Often he dealt with people in pain, people who were sick and worried. He put them at ease, he spent as much time as he needed to with them, he helped them get what they needed. He did all of this obsessively.
None of us, here, ever got to taste his cooking. But some of us have seen the pictures, and wish we had.
And he had a Darth Vader apron. (Which makes him a kindred spirit.)
I had a window, if a small one, into Herb's dreams. They weren't grandiose, not about making money, achieving notoriety, retiring to some sunny beach one day. They were all about growing, learning, becoming better at his job, better at tech, better at life. He was on the road to all of them. That his time was cut short of achieving many of them is a tragedy. That his life was spent in pursuit of them is a triumph.
We love you, Herb. We'll miss you, man. If you're looking down, now, from some other realm, I know: you'll be wearing your little smile, mildly embarrassed at all the attention, shaking your head, and saying, "It's all good. It's all good."
—Miles Romney
CTO, eVisit
On 7 May, 2017, Herb Meehan crossed out of this world, on to that great adventure.
Herb had five loves in his life, so far as I know, valued in this order: his wife; people; technology; sci-fi; and cooking.
I won't presume to convey the love he held for his wife. Theirs was a special, and closely-held relationship.
But as to other people, I can speak. At eVisit, Herb was universally admired as the embodiment of eVisit's core values. He lifted the concept of "customer love" to new heights. Our customers will grieve his passing more deeply than they would my own, or anyone else's at eVisit. He had an extraordinary way with people. It was not smooth. Not practiced. Even mildly awkward, as often as not. But it was genuine in a way that most of us will never achieve, and that won him friends wherever he looked. You know he loved helping people, you'd never doubt it—you could see it on him, and he had no talent for subterfuge.
He loved tech. But more than that, he loved applying it to his love of people. He published an app to help diabetics. He built a Holy Bible app. And he worked for eVisit as our escalated support guru—a position requiring both people skills and tech skills—helping doctors see their patients, and patients see their doctors. Often he dealt with people in pain, people who were sick and worried. He put them at ease, he spent as much time as he needed to with them, he helped them get what they needed. He did all of this obsessively.
None of us, here, ever got to taste his cooking. But some of us have seen the pictures, and wish we had.
And he had a Darth Vader apron. (Which makes him a kindred spirit.)
I had a window, if a small one, into Herb's dreams. They weren't grandiose, not about making money, achieving notoriety, retiring to some sunny beach one day. They were all about growing, learning, becoming better at his job, better at tech, better at life. He was on the road to all of them. That his time was cut short of achieving many of them is a tragedy. That his life was spent in pursuit of them is a triumph.
We love you, Herb. We'll miss you, man. If you're looking down, now, from some other realm, I know: you'll be wearing your little smile, mildly embarrassed at all the attention, shaking your head, and saying, "It's all good. It's all good."
—Miles Romney
CTO, eVisit
Organizer and beneficiary
Trisha Bloom
Organizer
Mesa, AZ
Maryam Meehan
Beneficiary