On 4/3/2015 6:05 AM, frankksantoyo@gmail.com wrote:

On Thursday, February 13, 1997 at 12:00:00 AM UTC-8, Keith Hansel wrote:

At the opening of DS9 "In Purgatory's Shadow", it says in memory of
Derek Garth. Who is he, and what is his connection with DS9?

Thanks, Keith Hansel

I feel I'm uniquely qualified to lay out the events of our production day on DS9 when we lost Derek Garth.
First, a little context. Derek was a prince amongst Grips, I can both visually and emotionally convey here a beautiful example of what a Grip, seasoned in the craft and wizardry of the multifaceted dynamics that define a truly great Grip while

disavowing any of the frailties and ignobilities Grips have been prone to contract or parrot in their urgent desires to fall into the common nature of the ranks.

When I joined the DS9 Grip crew, I found a mature and gracious compliment of guys that welcomed me into the fold with open arms and authentic interest in sharing the wealth of knowledge that one depends upon to simply embark upon a serous career at

the union standard of proficiency.

Derek, sparkled with genuine engaging attention towards me and enveloped me in a almost paternal glint from day 1. He was always a paragon of good cheer even when dealt the shared burden of a uniquely difficult show to produce. The hours were

legendary now in their consistent 14-16+ hour days, often leaving our dept. just in a stand by capacity where wakefulness became a losing battle.

I can recall the morning when we all assembled at the scheduled calltime. I think we were on stage 16. An uneasy affect grew amongst the Grips and in step amongst the greater crew. This man, though living hours from the lot, commuted daily to set.
Hours had passed, Grown, tough and gruff men displayed open confusion and anguish. Calls to his home afforded no insight. Shortly then, someone (1st AD, I think) called to gather the crew. She announced that on Dereks commute down early in the AM,

the fog had come upon the highway to a degree of utter non visibility. It seems Derek, traveling at the normal speed of of 70ish failed to see the flatbed big rig at a deadstop. No indications of even skidmarks were seen if memory serves. Although we
did, I still fail to comprehend how one transcends from such arresting shock and loss back to some pathetic semblance of picking up and moving on as if nothing had ever happened. Yet I was there, I also felt the pressure to vanquish the grief and gut
wrenching loss of a presence so formative in the cheerful spirit that had been the standard.

That's all I can say.

I always wondered who he was as well. At least his death was a quick one
an accident like that should be instantly fatal.
Thank you for sharing your story.

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GRACIAS, por compartir esta informacion, es la forma de mantenerlo vivo siempre... ;-)



El viernes, 3 de abril de 2015, 7:05:56 (UTC-3), frankk...@gmail.com escribió:

On Thursday, February 13, 1997 at 12:00:00 AM UTC-8, Keith Hansel wrote:

At the opening of DS9 "In Purgatory's Shadow", it says in memory of
Derek Garth. Who is he, and what is his connection with DS9?

Thanks, Keith Hansel

I feel I'm uniquely qualified to lay out the events of our production day on DS9 when we lost Derek Garth.
First, a little context. Derek was a prince amongst Grips, I can both visually and emotionally convey here a beautiful example of what a Grip, seasoned in the craft and wizardry of the multifaceted dynamics that define a truly great Grip while

disavowing any of the frailties and ignobilities Grips have been prone to contract or parrot in their urgent desires to fall into the common nature of the ranks.

When I joined the DS9 Grip crew, I found a mature and gracious compliment of guys that welcomed me into the fold with open arms and authentic interest in sharing the wealth of knowledge that one depends upon to simply embark upon a serous career at

the union standard of proficiency.

Derek, sparkled with genuine engaging attention towards me and enveloped me in a almost paternal glint from day 1. He was always a paragon of good cheer even when dealt the shared burden of a uniquely difficult show to produce. The hours were

legendary now in their consistent 14-16+ hour days, often leaving our dept. just in a stand by capacity where wakefulness became a losing battle.

I can recall the morning when we all assembled at the scheduled calltime. I think we were on stage 16. An uneasy affect grew amongst the Grips and in step amongst the greater crew. This man, though living hours from the lot, commuted daily to set.
Hours had passed, Grown, tough and gruff men displayed open confusion and anguish. Calls to his home afforded no insight. Shortly then, someone (1st AD, I think) called to gather the crew. She announced that on Dereks commute down early in the AM, the

fog had come upon the highway to a degree of utter non visibility. It seems Derek, traveling at the normal speed of of 70ish failed to see the flatbed big rig at a deadstop. No indications of even skidmarks were seen if memory serves. Although we did, I
still fail to comprehend how one transcends from such arresting shock and loss back to some pathetic semblance of picking up and moving on as if nothing had ever happened. Yet I was there, I also felt the pressure to vanquish the grief and gut wrenching
loss of a presence so formative in the cheerful spirit that had been the standard.

That's all I can say.

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