Ernie died on May 31, 1993, Memorial Day in the United States, the day we honor those who died in defense of our liberty.
He died of cancer after a long, hard struggle to beat the odds. He beat them – by all accounts by more than five months – because he had things to do.
In the end he was surrounded by his family at home. His daughter, Jennie, called me within the hour.
I write this because he was special to me, but I also write for the Sinclair computer press because the QL was special to him.
In his obituary, after the account of his career and his work with his church, it said that he was president of the New England Sinclair QL Group (NESQLUG).
Ernie rarely ventured outside the Psion suite that came with his QL; half the lines of programming he wrote were dictated over the phone, and he struggled to key in every line of SuperBASIC from QL World. But he was the only person I know who had working skills with all four applications.
When he worked with the New England Telephone Company, he fought the trend and made the company get him a Thor. His boss justified it on the grounds that Ernie was more productive with a Thor than any two other employees with IBMs. Besides, Ernie told me, his files were too important to be subject to the viruses and security leaks that plagued the networks at the time.
He was a deeply spiritual man of a faith rarely found in the world today. From the day he learned he had cancer, and even when he learned his odds, he did not fear death. As a youth he had made the nine First Fridays, and knew that if he died in a state of grace he would go straight to Heaven. “And that’s what life is all about anyway”, said Ernie.
He set about putting his affairs in order and teaching his children to use the QL. In February he bought a Gold Card, to aid in that task.
By April he was bedridden, and had the QL moved to his bedside. Each stroke was painful, either from the cancer, the paralysis or the frustration of trying to think through a cloud of painkillers. In the end his son had learned enough to keypunch from dictation.
Ernie did not suffer fools gladly; indeed he suffered them not at all, himself the least. He never complained that the cancer would cheat him.
Many his age become fixed in their ways and ideas, but he was always open to new ideas.
Several years ago Ernie told me about a financial planning program he was involved in. I bit my tongue, but suggested what I felt was a more appropriate avenue.
At first he resisted the notion and I let it drop. But eighteen months later he had the grace to tell me that not only had he followed up, but had spent some of the profits on an IBM so his wife could take work home from the office.
In consequence I became privy to and part of his planning.
Ernie was not unlike many people whom I have met through a shared interest in the QL. He differed only in that he was my friend.
Oh, God! Ernest Wider, I miss you.