Author Joseph J. Lazzaro died 18 November 2013. He was my friend, and I already miss him. Born on 5 August 1957 in Massachusetts, he lost his vision as a teenager due to detached retinas, a congential condition. As an adult, he worked for the Massachusetts Commission for the Blind, helping other blind people acquire and learn to use adaptive technologies. He was also the author of two non-fiction books in his field: Adaptive Technologies for Learning & Work Environments (published by the American Library Association in 1993; second edition in 2001) and Adapting PCs for Disabilities (published by Addison-Wesley in 1995). He was also a frequent contributor of articles to magazines.

Ian Randal Strock, Joseph J. Lazzaro, and Cindy Lazzaro in Brooklyn, New York, June, 1995.

I first met Joe in the early 1990s, when I was an editor at Analog and Asimov’s. At the time, he was a fan and an aspiring science fiction author; I’d been at the magazines three or four years. Joe invited me to his home for brunch on Sunday following Arisia, so I said sure. His wife, Cindy, was out of town on business, but his friend (now my friend, too) Allison Feldhusen was there. And I was stunned, watching him cook a full brunch by touch. Joe was the first blind person I knew well, so I’d never really seen someone operating in such an exacting environment completely by sense of touch. It was fascinating to watch. One of the things I particularly remember from that day was something I wasn’t witness to: Joe was a fan of hearty breakfasts, and on this day, he was making eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and I can’t remember what else. But as he was preparing it, before I’d arrived, Allison remembered that I’m Jewish, and that perhaps making bacon and ham might be an insensitive idea. So as wonderful as the breakfast was, Joe was very worried about it. Fortunately, I’m not religious, and there was no social faux pas.

Our friendship grew over time, and Joe and his wife Cindy frequently opened their home to me when I was in the Boston area for conventions or other visits. They were warm-hearted, doing the same for many friends and family members. Childless themselves, Joe and Cindy played a major role in raising their older niece. And later, when Cindy’s other sister died, they took in her daughter, becoming loving parents to both girls.

Soon after I left Analog, Joe’s first published science fiction appeared in that magazine (the short story “Ben Franklin’s Spaceship,” which he co-wrote with Peter L. Manly). He was already a many-times published author, well respected in his field, but that story was a very exciting milestone. His only other professionally published fiction was the Probability Zero story that appeared in Analog in 2000, “The Turing Testers,” which he co-wrote with Michael A. Burstein. He did manage several more appearances in science fiction magazines. He wrote two essays that appeared in Absolute Magnitude: “Building an Accessible Future” (1998) and “Have Spacecraft, Will Travel” (1999). He was one of the authors appearing in the debut issue of my own Artemis Magazine, with the science article “The Universal Moonbase: Applying Universal Design to Space Environments.” He returned to Analog with a science fact article in 2004: “Artificial Vision and the ‘Kite and Key’ Experiment: Visual Prosthetics for the Blind.” And most recently, he authored a Thought Experiment piece for Asimov’s in 2006: “More than Halfway to Anywhere.”

Joe is survived by his wife, Cindy, two nieces and a grand-nephew, and many friends. Funeral plans are pending, though Cindy just told me she’ll come up with something involving food, because Joe really enjoyed his food.

[Edited 20 November 2013 to add funeral/visiting details:]

Visiting hours will be held at the JF Ward Funeral Home, 772 Broadway, Everett, MA, on Friday, November 22, from 2 to 4 and 7 to 9 PM.

Funeral will be at the First Church in Malden, 184 Pleasant Street, Malden, MA, on Saturday, November 23, at 10 AM. Interment in Puritan Lawn Cemetery, Peabody.

In his memory, donations may be made to Perkins School For the Blinds Braille & Talking Book Library, 175 North Beacon Street, Watertown, MA 02472.

Online memorial book and directions are available from the funeral home’s web site.