Update: See below, but I wanted to include the text Mike Abercrombie (DM's owner) posted as a comment to this post, in the body of the blog post itself. "Ted - All of us at DevelopMentor greatly appreciate your admiration. We're also grateful for your contributions to DevelopMentor when you were part of our staff. However, all of us that work here, especially our technical staff that write and delivery our courses today, would appreciate it if you would check your sources before writing our eulogy. DevelopMentor is open for business and delivering courses this week and we intend to remain doing so." Duly noted, Mike. Apology offered (and hopefully accepted).
An email crossed my desk today, announcing that DevelopMentor, home to so many good people and fond memories, has (at least temporarily) closed its doors.
I admit to a small, carefully-cushioned place in my heart where I mourn over this.
DevelopMentor was such a transcendent place for me. Much, if not most or all, of the acceleration that came in my career came not only while I was there, but because I was there.
So much of my speaking persona and skill I owe to Ron Sumida, who took a half-baked neophyte of intermediate speaking skill, and in an eight-hour marathon session still referred to in my mental memoirs as my "Night with Scary Ron", shaped me and taught me tricks about speaking that I continue to use to this day. That I got to know him as a friend and confidant later still to this day ranks as one of my greatest blessings.
I remember my first DM Instructor Retreat, where I met so many of the names I'd read about or heard about, and feeling "Oh, my God" fanboy-ish. I remember Tim Ewald giving a talk on transactions at that retreat that left me agape—I seriously didn't understand half of what he was saying, and rather than feeling overwhelmed or ashamed, I remember distinctly thinking, "Wow—I have found a home where I can learn SO much more." It was like waking up one morning to find that your writing workshop group suddenly included Neal Stephenson, Stephen Pinker, C.S. Lewis and Ernest Hemingway. (Yes, I know those last two are dead. Work with me here.)
I remember the day that Lorie (the ops manager at the time) called me to say that Don Box wanted me to work with him on the C# course. I was convinced that she'd called the wrong Ted, meaning instead to reach for Ted Pattison in her Rolodex and coming up a few letters shy. She tartly informed me, "No, I know exactly who I'm talking to, and are you interested or not?" How could I refuse? Help the Diety of COM write DM's flagship course on Microsoft's flagship technology for the next decade? "Hmm...", I say out loud, not because I needed time to think about it, but because a thread in the back of my head says, "Is there any scenario here where I say no?"
I still fondly recall doing a Guerilla .NET at the Torrance Hilton shortly after the .NET 1.0 release, and having a conversation with Don in my hotel room later that night; that was when he told me "Microsoft is working on an open-source version of the CLR". I was stunned—I had no idea that said version would factor pretty largely in my life later. But it opened my eyes, in a very practical way, to how deeply-connected DevelopMentor was to Microsoft, and how that could play out in a direct fashion.
When Peter Drayton joined, he asked me to do a quick review pass on the reference section of his C# in a Nutshell, and I agreed because Peter was a good guy (and somebody I'd hoped would become a friend), and wanted to see the book do well. That went from informal review to formal review to "well, could you maybe make it an editing pass?" to "Would you like to write a few chapters?" to "Well, let's sign you up as a co-author...". That project is what introduced me to John Osborn, which in turn led him to call me one day and say, "Some guys at Microsoft are working on an open-source version of the CLR, and would like to have a 'professional writer' help them write a book on it. Interested?" That led to SSCLI Internals, working with David Stutz, and wow, did I learn a helluvalot from that project, too.
Effective Enterprise Java came through DevelopMentor, thanks again to Don Box, who introduced me to the folks at Addison-Wesley that put the contract (and Scott Meyers, another blessing) in front of me.
DM got me my start in the conference circuit, as well. In 2002, John Lam pinged me over email—he'd recently become track chair for Connections down in Orlando, and was I interested in speaking there? I was such a newbie to the whole idea, but having taught classes roughly twice every month, I wasn't worried about the speaking part, but the rest of the process. John walked me through the process, and in doing so, set me down a path that would almost completely redefine my career within a year or so.
Even my Java chops got built up—the head of our Java curriculum was Stu Halloway (recently of Clojure fame), and between him, Kevin Jones, Si Horrell, Brian Maso and Owen Tallman, man, did I feel simultaneously like a small child among giants and like a kid in a candy store. Every time I turned around, they'd discovered something new about the Java platform that floored me. Bob Beauchemin has forgotten more about databases in general than I will ever learn, and he had some insights on the intersection of Java + databases that still hang with me today.
And my start with No Fluff Just Stuff came through DevelopMentor, too. Jason Whittington heard through a mutual friend (Erik Hatcher, of Ant fame) about this cool little conference being held in Denver, and maybe I should look into it. That led to an email intro to Jay Zimmerman, a dinner together while I was teaching in Denver a few weeks later, and before I knew it, I was on the Denver NFJS schedule, including the speaker panel, where I uttered the then-infamous line, "Swing sucks. Get over it."
DevelopMentor, you shaped my career—and my life—in so many ways, you will always be a source of pleasant memories and a group of friends and acquaintances that I would never have had otherwise. Thank you so much.
Rest in peace.
Update: Well, as it turns out, I have to rescind at least part of my eulogy, as the post itself generated quite a stir—the folks at DevelopMentor were pretty quick to email me, pointing out that they're still alive and well. In fact, as one of them (a friend of mine still working there) put it, "We were all kinda surprised when we came to work this morning and discovered that we could go home." Fortunately, the DevelopMentor folks were pretty gracious about what could've been a very ugly situation, and I apologize for to them for the misunderstanding—all I can say is that my "source" must've also been mistaken, and I'm glad that we're all still good. And lest it need to be said out loud, I heartily want nothing but the best for DM, and hope that I never have to write this message again.