This past year has held many wonderful things for me, but it has also brought loss. My good friend Eric Binnion (eric.blog) recently lost his battle with esophageal cancer. You can learn more about Eric on this memorial site that was created by his co-workers and team members at Automattic.
I first met Eric in 2017 when I joined his team at Automattic. We worked on partnership integrations for Jetpack.com, using creativity and code to solve a large number of problems and bring our products to millions of users. One of Eric’s greatest strengths was his ability to stay calm, think through a situation, and persevere. Working with me made him use that skill often! We had a saying: anything is possible, it just requires time and code.
A year or two later, we joined a leadership team along with Paolo Belcastro (paolo.blog). When I asked Eric to join, he hesitated because he had never held a leadership role at that level. Together, the three of us made a great team and solved many difficult problems. Eric grew into a capable leader who was respected by many people, both inside and outside the company.
Leadership aside, over the last nine years I got to know Eric on a deep level. We kept a shared document of our 1:1 notes, and when I last checked it was over 108 pages. We spent the first 10 minutes of every call checking in on our personal lives, families, and interests. Reviewing those notes reminded me of everything Eric shared: competitive pistol shooting, riding his motorcycle, visiting places like Carlsbad Caverns with his family, collecting Pokemon cards, and his love of long road trips.
I also remember when I returned from parental leave and Eric asked what it was like to have another child. I told him something to the effect of, “There isn’t much greater in life than family. What else will you do later on in life?” Less than a year later, Eric and his wife welcomed a beautiful little girl. I was instantly blamed (or thanked) for the addition, and tasked as her guardian if anything were to happen to them. Whenever he brought it up, Eric smiled and told me he wasn’t joking.
We traveled to multiple countries together, too many to list. One of my highlights was our first trip, to CloudFest in Rust, Germany. Our flights landed close together in Stuttgart, and we had to figure out the train to Rust. The conference was at Europa Park, which neither of us had visited. At 6’2″, I have a longer stride than Eric, and he had a fun time keeping up. I remember him chasing after me with his XL suitcase as we crossed several platforms during a train switch of less than 10 minutes. He never got upset. He just made funny comments about me being a giant who needed to slow down.
We laughed about that first CloudFest for years. A few days in, we decided to walk 15 minutes to a dinner meeting. Eric, being from Texas, had brought his Texas pride along in the form of leather cowboy boots, and he wore them everywhere all week. The road to the restaurant was cobblestone, and I heard Eric shout from behind me, “James, I got little legs man, and my feet are killing me in these boots!” That was when it hit me that sometimes I need to slow down. From then on, I matched his stride whenever we walked, in places like Narragansett, Rhode Island; Orlando, Florida; Portland, Oregon; Washington, D.C.; Malaga, Spain; and others.
Losing a friend is never easy. Before this year, I had only lost elderly family members. This past year I have experienced the loss of three close friends. It doesn’t get easier, and the advice that “all things heal in time” does not resonate with me. If anything, losses like this change us. I will never be the same person after knowing Eric. He was a great friend who always looked at how things could be solved and made possible, and he approached problems with poise and kept his cool under pressure. The best way I can honor his life and legacy is to make those lessons part of my own and carry the torch forward.
I love and miss you, my friend. Until we meet again.
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