R.I.P., Wick Allison (1948–2020)
By Tim Rogers
D Magazine
All of us, if we are fortunate, meet one or two angelic people in our entire lives whose serenity and calm circumspection not only inspire reverence but gently usher us toward a lifelong journey in search of our best selves. Wick Allison was not one of those people.
No, if there was a journey to be undertaken, Wick got it started with a kick in the ass and head-back cackle laugh that until recently echoed through the office of D Magazine. He was a mercurial genius. He was a bully. He was loud. He knew the answer before you did. He made things happen through a force of will that generated its own gravity and drew people to him. He could make you feel great about yourself or sick to your stomach, sometimes on the same day. He created things — publications, careers, political movements — with a fearless abandon that drove those in his orbit dizzy. Wick was something to behold.
Tuesday, September 1, 2020, the D family lost our founder and father figure. He died in Upstate New York, at a fishing camp he retreated to every summer, surrounded by his girls. His wife Christine was with him, as were his four daughters, Gillea, Maisie, Chrissie, and Loddie.
Read more about the remarkable man here, and please, if you ever had the pleasure of meeting him, leave a story.