Dave "Lord Ronin" Mohr has passed away

[RobertB]

     On Thursday, December 3, at approximately 8:30 a.m, Dave "Lord Ronin" Mohr passed away due to heart failure.  Dave was a passionate devotee of all things relating to Commodore and Amiga computers.  For many years, he was chancellor of the Anything Commodore User Group (a.k.a. Astoria Commodore User Group) in Astoria, Oregon.  He was a prolific writer for his club's monthly newsletter, "The Village Green".  He also wrote for Commodore Free magazine, worked regularly on the disk-of-the-month for the Clark County Commodore Computer Club of Las Vegas, and edited the newsletter of the Meeting Commodore Users Through The Mail.  He was an active participant on the Homestead mailing list, the ACUG0447 mailing list, and on Facebook.  He organized ACUG's MossyCon Commodore events 1-5.
     More information will be posted soon.

          Sincerely,
          Robert Bernardo
          Fresno Commodore User Group
          http://videocam.net.au/fcug
          The Other Group of Amigoids
          http://www.calweb.com/~rabel1/
          Southern California Commodore & Amiga Network
          http://www.sccaners.org

[Paul]

It's always sad whenever we lose an active and colourful member in the Commodore community.  All good things must come to an end, and I hope he enjoyed his.

[RobertB]

(With the December 3 passing of Dave "Lord Ronin" Mohr, a great enthusiast of the Commodore computer has been taken away from us.  The following is what I feel an appropriate article, taken from the last issue of his newsletter, The Village Green, December 2009, p. 12-14.)

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My Commodore-Amiga Life

by Lord Ronin from Q-Link


As a way to bring in more information about us and our interests in the sacred and most holy C=, I am starting this series, hoping that I will have information from the members for each issue on your life story with our beloved PC.  Sort of been thinking about this idea since DMackey sent in his background on the sacred PC.  So don't feel lonely; tell us about your life with the CBM line.

OK, I'll start off; it is my job, I guess.  Let's do a time warp back to the mid 80's.  I was working as that most vile and evil thing, a telemarketer.  Well, in my defense, it was for the state, and it was licensed, and it was for the Special Olympics.  At that time I was computer-phobic, while my mother had been teaching adults to read for several years.  She had one student that had to have his wife fill in the job applications and read the newspaper to him.  Yet, he was a Commodore user, and I suspect but can't prove [that he was] a member of the users group in Grants Pass, Oregon.  Don't ask me how he could use the C=, but he could and got my mum interested in it.  So in 1986, she bought a 64, off-brand name monitor, black MPS-803 printer, 1541 drive, diabetic programmes, other programmes that I have yet to be able to look at, and a computer desk.  Speed ahead for a moment.  That desk is now in the shop and is the 64C set up.  Disk drive was smashed by Mark Reed, and the printhead went out on the printer.  Sold the monitor, as I had six 1702s at the time.  My wife at the time and I had visited [mum], and she came several times to visit me, saying that I needed a computer as I was a writer.  Yeah, like we believed that last part.

Skipping ahead to 1993, March to be exact.  The wife had been gone for six years.  Would have been nice if before she married me, she had divorced three other husbands.  [That day], I get a cop at the door of the shop where we were still sweeping the floor and moving things into our new location.  I can still remember where everyone was standing at that time; [the cop informed me that] my mother was in the hospital with a heart problem.  She was 400 miles away, and I had no transport.  But one of my martial arts students and gamers had a car and time off.  I had a few coins to lay on him for gas.  He took me the 400 miles at breakneck speeds in a little Honda, I white-knuckled the entire trip.  Literally, made it there in record time.  Went to the hospital the next day.  I had the keys for her place... oh, wait, I still have the keys... where I found out she had that she had heart trouble.  A quintuple bypass had been performed, and they had jump-started her on the table around three times.  Wish she had sued them, as she had a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) on her paperwork that they ignored; I [could have] had a lot more C= stuff now and not be on disability (VBG).  Oh, add here that it was 1987 that I was declared permanently disabled.

Well, she had more tubes in her than my 1936 Hallicrafters SWR (shortwave radio).  All she wanted to talk to me about was her OBE (out-of-body experience) with my father and the Commodore system she had for me in the shed.  Like man, I was really interested in the computer at that time (not in the least).  But how do you argue with a 70 year old mother that is pushing a computer on you?  OK, when they tossed me out of the hospital, I went back to her place [which] was in walking distance for me at that time.  In the shed at her retirement trailer court, there was a breadbox 64, SR-3000 monitor (she didn't know it also did 80 col.), Okidata 120 printer, funky joystick to my eyes, a couple of factory boxes of things, Word Writer 4, The Hobbit, and three boxes of "archive" disks.  Loaded that up in the little car.  No idea how it fit.  Got good and drunk that night on Burgermeister, my father's fave beer (also not in the stores in Astoria).  Said good-bye to her the next day and had another white-knuckle ride back to Astoria, where the system was laid out on a little coffee table.  I was scared to death of it.  Well, two of the commune/kibbutz members had some computer experience -- one with the Rat Shack "Colour 64", the other with an Apple.  Tell you here that both were impressed with the Commodore.  Good thing the users guide was in the mess.  Now I'll add here that at that time, I didn't know about platform-specific or anything.  Didn't know that C= disks didn't work in anything but Commodore.  All I had done in computers in the past was key punch on cards in college and pop out 4K chips replacing them with 8K chips in TRaSh-80s at the Shack.  Now I had this cybernetic monster in front of me.

Hey, it had this great factory disk box and copy with manual of Acro Jet.  The three of us destroyed the disk, playing it so much the first night I returned.  Then all those arcade games in the "archive" disks... spent a few days playing with those and learned that I could make things in the Word Writer 4 programme.  So I did a few little things for the nightly RPG (role-playing game) group.  Looked better than my scrawl of handwriting.  I was starting to like the "friendly" PC.  During the year of 93, I was at the cafe that was next to the shop, [having] known the people for years.  Not sure how the conversation started but in the end, they were selling off their C= system.  I thought it was a great idea to have one in the shop at that time.  Been one in the shop ever since.  Well, it was a breadbox, some disks... all I remember was "archive" copy of Project Firestart that had me for months tearing out my hair on how to play it, but the intro scenes were what sold me on the power of the C=.

Along with that came an amber monitor... not a lot of fun, I admit.  Well, it was in October of that year... kids were out doing trick-or-treating with the downtown merchants a couple of days before Halloween, when a guy I had worked with in a small boat building place over a decade earlier came in and saw what I was playing with at the time.  Told me all about the "Astoria Commodore Users Group", which he said was a big copy party group... like I understood what that meant at the time.  Laid a phone number on me and hooked me with the fact that disks cost 25 cents each at the meetings.  I didn't know about the how, where, or why to get the disks.  Yeah, I was using the master copies... a real lamer.  To be short, I went to the November meeting, joined in December, and Mark Reed joined in January of 94.

Over the next approx. 16 years, my idea for a name change was accepted for the group.  Became the editor, 128 librarian, 64 deputy librarian, 64 librarian, and finally the president... a title which was changed to Chancellor.  Newsletter expanded.  A BBS was up from 1996 to 2005 and will be up again.  Shop added the hardcopy library to the floor space.  Later, the software collection and hardware for sale, with a reduced rate for group members.  I ended up doing more and more writing on the C= system, moving from the Newsroom to GEOS and later to GeoPub... then to Wheels and what we have today.

OK, that is the short of it.  As for my Amiga stuff... well, this has gone on too long, and the Amiga and me is better done at a later time.  However, you can tell it was all my mother's fault that she created this Commodore fanatic.  Now it is your turn to relate your C= history.  Feel free to add what you doing today as well.

[RobertB]

(In lieu of a memorial service for Dave Mohr, I wrote the following.)

David "Lord Ronin" Mohr – a Tribute


"Ow!  Dave, you're making me laugh too much."

Dave looked at me, grinning at the discomfort I was having.  He kept at it, telling me joke after joke, and I continued laughing and holding my chest, the physical pain very real.  He knew what he was doing; he was lifting my spirits after a tumultuous 36 hours for me.  Car packed full of Commodore and Amiga items, I had arrived in Portland that Tuesday in 2007 for MossyCon 3, the little Commodore event Dave put on every spring break.  That Tuesday night, an ambulance hauled me away to the nearest hospital emergency room for chest pains which I later found out was pericarditis (post-viral inflammation of the pericardium – the protective sac around the heart).  I missed MossyCon on Wednesday, me being still stuck in the emergency room, my only visitors being Andrew Wiskow and Jeremy L..  Later that afternoon I was released, and the next day, after a worried Jeri Ellsworth treated me to lunch, I drove out to Dave's place in Astoria.  The chest was starting to hurt again at 4:30 on the road, and I downed three ibuprofens, according to the wishes of the doctors.  By the time, I reached Dave's place at 6, the pains had just subsided... until Dave started me laughing and laughing.

"You know, Robert, you didn't have to come," as Dave gently chided me for traveling all that way in my condition.

"Nah, Dave, I said I would come to MossyCon."

For the next 3 ½ hours, Dave and I had our own MossyCon, the others having attended the day before.  His eyes would light up with every Commodore computer I pulled out of my car – PET 2001, PET 4032, PET 8032, modded SX-64, Amiga CD-32.

"If you don't want to take that back to California, I can take it off your hands," he would say, this being a long-running joke that I had heard for years and years.

Years and years....

Fast forward to MossyCon 5 in 2009, a different venue – the Moose Lodge in Astoria – and a different day – the first Sunday of spring break.  Dave and I were reminiscing about how long we had known each other.

"I think it was 2001, Dave."

"No, Robert, it was before you knew Jeri Ellsworth."

"You know... you're right, Dave," and we determined it was from the late 1990's.  I seemed to think it was from 1998 or 1999 when I first visited his Amiga-Commodore User Group on the way back from a visit to the Amiga computer dealer, Wonder Computers, in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

Ten years of visits to him in Astoria.  I had only known Dave to come out of Astoria one time... to visit me one Thanksgiving in Canby, Oregon so that he could pick up a MSD-SD2 disk drive from me.  He had another person drive him over, but he couldn't stay too long.  He had to return for Thanksgiving dinner at his place two hours back.

When the annual Commodore Vegas Expo started in 2005, I dreamt of methods to get him to Las Vegas, by bus or by train or by car or by a combination of those.  None of those plans came to fruition.  An airline flight would be a no-go for him.

He did tell me about having a table at the annual Portland Orycon event, a role-playing gamers  convention.  Though in later years he boycotted the show, during the times he did go to it, he spoke favorably of it where he would dress up, talk RPG, promote Commodore computers, and espouse the Klingon way.  Yeah, Dave was a fan of the Star Trek original series.  When he found out about my taking sides with Starfleet, he looked at me and sniffed half-seriously, "Staaarfleeeet..."

Dave could throw out a choice phrase in Klingon when needed.  For that matter, Dave could blurt out choice phrases in British English, German, and Yiddish.  And the speed with which he could turn a phrase would always amaze me.

"Dave, how should I respond to this person who is bugging me?"

"Robert, this is what you say..."  Needless to say, now I have a quick response in German.

Dave could appropriately modulate his voice, too, being a former radio disc jockey.  He would turn on his radio voice and read a line from his radio station, and I would be properly impressed.

One thing he couldn't do was communicate in Spanish at a Mexican restaurant.  I had to teach him.

"Robert, how do you say, 'I'm Jewish.  I cannot eat pork.'?"

"This is the way, Dave.  Say, 'Soy judio.  No puedo comer cerdo.'"

Dave loved his many and varied pet cats.  It didn't matter to him whether they slept on top of the Commodore keyboards or on his lap.  He would rescue those he could and rehabilitate them.  Every time I visited his house, I had to be aware of where the cats were for fear of stepping on them or for fear of them jumping on me.  Dave took great pleasure in my discomfort.

"That one, Robert, has especially sharp claws."

I would then huddle on a chair with books, boxes, or computer parts covering my lap.  When he found out about my preferring dogs, he looked at me and sniffed half-seriously, "Doooogs..."

It was only last year I found out that Dave was a prisoner of war in the Vietnam War.  Yes, I knew he was a veteran, but I never knew that he had been captured, that he had been in Army intelligence.  He was on a mission and had been captured by the Viet Cong.  He was tortured.  Five (or was it six) days later, he was rescued/freed by Americans.  He spoke that in those days the Viet Cong had a price on his head.  And he still couldn't watch the movie, the Deerhunter, because it cut too close... it brought back too many memories of his experiences during the Vietnam War.

He was a fan of other movies and t.v. shows, especially British t.v. shows – Red Dwarf, Monty Python, Dr. Who, Gerry Anderson shows like UFO, and his supreme favorite, the Prisoner.  When he found out that I would be visiting Wales in 2008, he urged me to visit Portmeirion, site of the Village seen in the Prisoner.  The nearest I could get to it was Cardiff, the site of the new Dr. Who t.v. series.  I brought back details of my visit, and he would listen to all of it with great appreciation.  Not only was Dave a good talker but he was a good listener, too.

He enjoyed the souvenirs I brought to him from the U.K..  He enjoyed the souvenirs that Peter Hanson, the Plus4 king of England, brought during his visits to Astoria.  Dave especially liked the various British tabloids, like the Sun with its famous/infamous Page 3 Girl; Dave's eyes would positively glow at the photo of a pretty girl.  Peter and Dave got along famously, Peter remarking that Dave had the English sense of humor.  Peter and Dave would be telling English jokes with each other, and I would be dumbfounded... not understanding anything of the jokes.

The last Peter and I saw Dave was on our mid-June visit to Astoria.  It was on a Sunday, very quiet because the bar above the Mohr Realities RPG/Commodore shop was closed.  As usual, Dave was very hospitable; he even gave us a few of his Commodore disks-of-the-month.  And I thought this would always be.  I would visit Dave two or three or four times a year.  I would bring his Commodore goodies to Ray Carlsen in Washington State for repair, and I would dutifully bring them back.  I would buy unusual Commodore items from his shop and gladly pay him.  I would listen to his wisdom on Commodore games and GEOS.  I would listen to his explanations on various RPGs or comic books.

Now I can only listen to that little part of him captured on my MossyCon videos.  Now I can only see him in the photos I took of him.  Now I can only read his musings in his Village Green newsletter or in the accumulated e-mails and postings I have from him.  Now I can only relive the memories I have of him, though those memories may fade in time.  He was the Master, the Sensei... and he always considered me the kid.

The night before he passed away... 12 hours before... he made a posting on Facebook.  He was joking about his cats and about pretty girls.  He talked about "Slow now, only about an hour of online time a day."  He talked about "Getting there, had a slight relapse on Monday."  And he talked about his German Jew father and Scotch-Irish mother.  As he remarked, "So there may be a slight reason why I have a slight stubborn streak. (LOL)"

A stubborn streak that kept him in Commodore, a stubborn streak that kept his club together, a stubborn streak kept him going through every trial and tribulation in his personal life; those tribulations he would try to explain to me, and I couldn't understand all of them.

The only thing I understood was that Dave was a good man, a good friend.