Ducey Murphy was a friend of mine. I didn’t know her well, but I saw her name and her face all the time. Often on this page, and earlier, in the Dirty Jobs Mudroom, where years ago, I began to first understand the value of communicating with the people who took an interest in my career.
Like many of you on this page, Diane kept me honest over the years with a level of feedback I never imagined I’d ever value or enjoy as much as I have. Indeed, Diane’s name became so familiar to me, that I took it for granted that she would always be here with an encouraging word about something she saw on Dirty Jobs, or Somebody’s Gotta Do It, or Returning the Favor, or The Way I Heard It, or mikeroweWORKS, or my dog, or my mother, or any other thing I might chose to share on this page. Or, perhaps more importantly, to share a gentle criticism when she thought perhaps, I’d ventured a bit too far outside my lane, or said something she differed with. Like I said, she was a friend.
She even traveled to see me once or twice in person, with other friends of this page. Here, we’re pictured in Baltimore a couple years ago, backstage at the Lyric Opera House after a fun evening I’ll never forget. I was touched she made such an effort to come see me, and I hope she had as much fun that night as I did.
Funny, isn’t it, how people you don’t really know, can nevertheless take up residence in your life? For all the crap on the Internet, and all the nonsense on social media, and all the meanness and bullying and relentless marketing and fake news online, a simple connection between like-minded people is still for sale. Indeed, that connection is in demand today more than ever, and made possible by people like Diane.
I’m glad to have known her, and grateful to have called her a friend. I’ll miss her.
My condolences to her family.