Signal to Noise

As I am going numb from doing bookkeeping at the campground I noticed an article on reddit.com. Reading Reddit is no substitute for information but there are enough tidbits that I seem to give it more time in a day than I should (that was my obligatory I-am-not-really-addicted-to-a-social-news-site disclaimer).

The article mentions a Canadian from Chelsea Quebec who was stabbed in the neck and then sat down with his attacker and called the police. During the call to 911 the operator ended up speaking to the attacker who gave his name and birth date and awaited the police. Not your every day sort of occurrence.

Now the bit that I was startled to see, the man who was attacked is named Christopher Holloway. I met Christopher a number of years ago when we were both working for Bell Northern Research and Northern Telecom was a company that was making buckets of money. He had recently finished skiing across the Arctic from Russia to Canada via the North Pole. The trek was called Polar Bridge and there is a short blurb about it on Richard Weber’s Wikipedia page. I did not know Christopher very well but I knew enough from his stories to know that he was (and likely still is) very capable and pretty darn hard to faze. So even though the article states that he was “surprised last week by an intruder in his basement who had been eating his fruit and using his clothes dryer” I picture him being surprised in the “that’s unusual” sense rather than the “what am I going to do now” sense.

I am very glad he was not hurt. My first thoughts were very much about hoping he was okay. My subsequent thoughts (not the caring ones … ) were much more along the lines of the look on his face and irritation of being stabbed while he was trying to figure out what to do about a guy eating fruit in his basement who had just stabbed him in the neck. I have no idea of the circumstances but I cannot imagine anything else but a matter-of-face expression (some concern about weak legs, bleeding, and the knife, I am sure) and one more story to add to his already substantial quiver of tales.

I also remember biking to his house and when he opened the door he shouted “kill” to his very large Canadian Eskimo dog named Franklin. Although their temperament is described as “loyal, tough, brave, intelligent, and alert … it is affectionate and gentle” I did not know this and was far more concerned about the fact that I had a 90lb dog running toward me and my friend Chuck (on bikes) wearing little more than Lycra and a terrified expression. Better still, we were unable to flee and the first thing that Franklin did upon reaching us was to put MY ENTIRE HAND in his mouth and lick off the salt I had accumulated from a long ride. Chuck’s next words (when Franklin) moved to him were “Teeth, I feel teeth.” Franklin was a great dog.

I would have loved to know Christopher better but we ended up working for different companies and I paths seldom crossed. It is good to read that he is still kicking and apparently very much as I remember.