Marty Sherman (business associate and brother-in-law):
Dirk hadn't been the same since they diagnosed him with liver problems. He was a great guy, though. Just mad at the world. And boy could he drink. I never saw anybody who could put it away like Dirk could. He drank me under the table more than once, and I'm no slouch myself. I'll miss the bastard.
M. Alan Pennywhistle (friend and author, A.K.A. 'Ye Olde Blowharde'):
The world's not going to be the same place without him. He could look at a sunset and see different things than you and I might see. He was one of a kind, that Dirk. A good friend. I remember the time he and I hitched to New York City back in the early sixties. We saw Monk at the Five Spot. No wait, that wasn't Dirk. He was too young to have done that. Who could that have been? Was it Solly? No...
Oh well, that Dirk sure was a great guy. And a fine poet, too. Yep. He did like jazz, that much I remember.
Marty Sherman:
Dirk was a funny guy when he wanted to be. Just a funny, funny man. One of the funniest things I ever heard him say was - and he was serious as a heart attack when he said this - he said: “It took me fifty years to realize that I'm a slow learner.” Ha ha. That Dirk. I wish he would have called me before he did it. I might have been able to talk him out of it.
M. Alan Pennywhistle:
Now I remember. It was Sherman and I. Sherman came with me to see Monk. Yeah, Sherman. But Dirk really dug jazz, too. I'm sure of that.
Marty Sherman:
The noose? Everybody wants to know about the noose. It's pretty simple really. Dirk was a Boy Scout when he was a kid. He could tie any damn kind of knot you named. He didn't learn that particular knot in the Boy Scouts, though, I'm sure. But he was a wizard with rope. And boy could he put the liquor away.
The last known poem of Martin Kenneth Dirkson (found printed in ballpoint on a legal pad near his bed, dated 1/13/08):
The fetal position, huddled in bed
I moan, I cry, I weep
For only nightmares come to me
When all I want is sleep
-Prof. Dirk Beat
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