UPDATED x2

It is with great sadness that we report the passing of Darren Buckley (Bucks), the long standing pillar in the Harpoon community.  Darren is best known for his work on HUD3, the larger of the two official databases. While the details of his passing are not clear, his contributions are.

Here is an obit in the Australian paper:

http://tributes.heraldsun.com.au/obituaries/heraldsun-au/obituary.aspx?n=darren-john-buckley&pid=152800851&fhid=8258

 Eulogy

Provided by his sister:

EULOGY


Darren was born in Prahran, Victoria on the 26th of October 1966 at Margaret Coles Maternity Hospital.

He attended Albert Park Pre-school and went onto St Peter and Paul’s Primary School South Melbourne for his prep year.

The family then moved to Eltham where Darren attended Our Lady Help of Christians. His secondary education was at Parade College Alphington and Bundoora campuses. He studied Biological Science at La Trobe University and worked at Austin Hospital for a short period where whilst undertaking research had a Medical paper published on the subject of calcium and the heart.

While Glenyse and David worked Darren was looked after by Nan and Pop in Albert Park. Darren’s bond with his Pop grew very strong over the years.

Darren was the first grandchild for Jack and Eva Lindley and Jim and Mary Buckley.

At twelve he contracted type one diabetes a burden he lived with for the rest of his far too short life.

In 1996, whilst Glenyse David & Samantha were overseas Darren’s Pop passed away. Darren undertook the responsibility of organizing his grandfather’s funeral. The way he undertook this and the reports of how he organized and spoke at the funeral made his parents extremely proud as the loss of his Pop was a very tragic time for Darren.

His interests included fishing and the outdoor life, the military, Australian War history, music, Sydney Swans Football Club, Cricket, Harpoon computer gaming for which he was thanked for his online contribution and more recently photography. His works were featured on ABC Pool website in May/June of this year– he was extremely proud of this achievement.

Darren you are gone but you will never be forgotten.

A rememberance

Given by Darren's friend Sooty Burns as posted on Darren's Facebook page.  I think the poem is a bit mangled from the FB posting, I apologize in advance:

"I first met Darren in around 1980, when I started going to Parade College, made a bunch of new friends . Darren was quite gregarious, The people I befriended were the more scholarly type, at least that’s how I remember it ,Darren was as well, but also mixed with the more sport-oriented groups at school . I liked him immediately, as he was tall ,I like tall people . We played a lot of downball, behind the Theatrette. Mark Leach, Nich, Mark O’Connell, Manny, Vanda, Dilla, Lap, QUinna, Piko, Ohis, the Gregs, lots of others...We listened to a lot of music too, Darren was into Dire Straits, the Doors and U2 ,later on it was the Cramps, The Fall ,many other local bands. Painters and Dockers, TISM. In later years ,we played a lot of dungeons and dragons at lunchtime, down near the nets at the top of the quadrangle. Darren was almost always dungeonmaster, I guess that’s where his fascination with gaming and his love of the military might have first met . He was able to weave out of his imagination all sorts of adventures for us ,keep us interested, take us on a journey .Soon he was modifying these games, making up his own rules, increasing the complexity . He was often scrooched over a sheaf of papers with tables of numbers all over them, big map spread out, dice in hand, playing out various scenarios in which we were the pawns in his game. We were Croms’ Devils, a pack of marauding thieves and thugs, taking all in our path. I always saw Darren as Strider, the Ranger, long paces and a deadly swordsman. We won some tournament at the Uni once, I seem to remember. We had our own tournaments, often at the Buckley house in Bolton Street. The Bolus party. Visits to Montsalvat in the middle of the night. That’s the thing about trying to remember all this stuff that happened, Darren was always the one who could remember, put dates to things, he could name all our old classmates and teachers. I guess I’ll just have to try and remember myself, now. Or make it up.

Darren was into running, too, I remember him being one of those who went out running, just because they liked it. Odd. Cricket too. At one stage he also got into Kendo, the Japanese sword martial art. Even recently he would play out beheadings to illustrate how serious he was about something. He had the stance, the balance. He was never one to shy away from physical work. I think he still holds the box-stacking record somewhere, I’m sure. Back in the day we used to go hiking, too. Up to the Lappin weekender shack in Smoko, in the Ovens Valley, where we’d drink Long necks of Melbourne Bitter, and try to concoct new recipes from all the food people had brought . Go explore the old mine shaft up the hill .We’d go climb up Mt Feathertop, up the Northwest spur. once Darren and some friends found themselves halfway up when the sun went down, and slept rough out there. I wasn’t there, but I heard about it so many times....

We went fishing occasionally, usually down at Mt Martha, see if we could get some flatties, usually ended up as a competition to see who could cast the furthest. Darren won.

After those school days, I guess we all slowly drifted apart...Darren moved in to Castle Street, Eaglemont with Nich, worked at the Epworth for a while. He worked at mushroom records for a long time, to me he was always a source of good music, shared it around. Fluf. Beastie Boys. Husker Du. Spiderbait. The expression “go spastic” got a fair bit of use around that time.”get a dog”

Later he lived in Hardy Street Preston, I’d visit him occasionally. I went over there for a barby once, I can tell you he wasn’t he greatest cook.

He got into the world of computer gaming, Counterstrike and the like. Later, I know that he was employed to work on a game called Harpoon, that I know almost nothing about, but I know his military knowledge was put to good use here. He was the sort of guy who could name all the warplanes and ships, he knew the battles and wars ,he studied military history his whole life, as far as I know. He embarrassed me once by knowing more about Lithuanian history than I did, I had to swot up after that.

A few times in the last year, Darren would pop around and visit, sometimes he’d join Andrew and I in our weekly trips to Camberwell market. We’d be fossicking through other people junk, Darren would just be observing the people , talking about his latest triumphs or frustrations.

He approached his recent legal battles with great preparation and patience, studied up on law, visited libraries, hung out in courtrooms, just to find out how it worked. and I know he aspired to do a law degree ...I don’t doubt he could have done anything he put his mind to.

In some ways Darren was an old soul, he always showed the utmost respect for older people that he deemed to be worthy. I know he spoke about his grandfather a great deal, admired him immensely. His other heroes are people like John monash and Winston Churchill, military commanders. He definitely would have found his way into the military, if they had let him in.

Darren didn’t suffer fools, although he tolerated me most of the time.

He was a stickler for correct grammar and use of the English language. He had an intensity about him, you could feel it.

He also , I think had a strong sense of his own mortality. He spoke to me once quietly about a few near misses he’d had in the past. I witnessed one of these, he went hyper early one morning a couple of years ago at Camberwell Market. Missed breakfast, Lost his balance, Fell over, cracked his head, and started raving incoherently and sweating and swearing. Some cops thought he was drunk or on drugs. Shame on them. We drove him to hospital, he passed out on the way, later we were told he could have died. Within an hour he was back on his feet, correcting the nurses about something they thought they knew about Diabetes. So anyway he seemed to know his innings would be short. And he was too smart for religion. Thank God for that.

Last time I saw him was a few weeks ago, Anthony had got his car bogged in Darren’s front yard, needed a tow to help get it out. Despite the situation, he seemed in good spirits. I probably should have stuck around a bit longer for more of a chat, but that’s how it goes.

Funerals are good in that they remind us that we all die, so get on with it.

My heart goes out to his friends and family, and especially to his brothers, who have probably noticed a tall void where Darren used to be .

Darren was into poetry. This is his favourite poem, it’s by EE Cummings, 1958. I’ve read it about 5 times , and I’m just starting to understand it.

What Got him was Nothing. What Got him was Nothing & nothing's exactly what any one Living (or some body Dead like even a Poet) could hardly express what i Mean is what knocked him over Wasn't for instance) the Knowing your whole (yes god damned) life is a Flop or even to Feel how Everything (dreamed & hoped & prayed for months & weeks & days & years & nights & forever) is Less Than Nothing (which would have been Something) what got him was nothing"

Don "UncleHarpoon" Gilman