Luray Williams, a long-time friend of the MIVA Merchant community, passed away Saturday.
Many users knew Luray (Santa Fe Mall) as the guy behind the "wizard" modules for OpenUI stores. Developers and designers knew him as a stand-up guy who vied to provide more tools to store owners in the areas of display and functionality.
If you ever attended a MIVA Conference, Luray was hard to miss. He was the gray-haired skinny guy, donning a western shirt and blue jeans, telling you like it is. He had many stories to share, most of which would shoot you into a bout of laughter.
As you got closer to him, though, you found Luray represented something most ideal. He didn't use his downfalls in life as a crutch, but rather threw them to the side to embark on grander things. He entered the MIVA community simply because he was bored with retirement. He'd install, for a fair price, portions of Bill Weiland's Tool Kit. Realizing a need for more custom work and further module development, Luray teamed up with a few others, which led him to delve into the OpenUI and develop his line of wizard modules. He steadfastly continued developing modules through MIVA Merchant version 4.24, and until this weekend, continued to perform installations and customizations via his Santa Fe Mall store, and DesignExtend.com. He often worked--in some form--seven days a week, with no regard to keeping actual hours. If a user needed an urgent fix, he was there to take care of it right away.
Some users were taken aback by Luray's "tell it like it is" philosophy. He never sugar-coated his answers and he expected you to listen to what he said. He was also a very giving person, rarely passing up a request for help, whether it be assistance on a store or just an ear to listen to a problem. He cared about people and he cared about what he did.
Luray is survived by his twelve-year-old daughter and he was a prime example of how parents should spend time with their children. He quite often traveled hundreds of miles to spend time with her, and he was certain to make sure she knew her father loved her more than anything.
Luray's passing was sudden. He had worked on installations, as usual, through Friday. He had spoken with many of his close community friends during last week (which was also a usual ritual).
For those who knew him simply as the "wizard" guy - perhaps you had him install a few modules and fix your store's layout - know that he did all this because he enjoyed doing so.
For his longtime clients, I'm certain there was a special relationship forged. He probably knew your children's names and where you went on vacation last year. You probably knew what kind of truck he drove. He spoke about such things because he wanted to.
For his close friends, undoubtedly his passing is something that's going to take time to deal with. You don't meet a guy like Luray every day - a guy who likes you for who you are; a guy who understands and accepts your dilemmas, but still tells you that you must get back on your feet; a guy who trusts you and doesn't care why you needed a specific favor, because asking for it was hard enough.
Luray. He fixed our stores. He became our friend. He affected our lives. Something tells me it doesn't end here. I know I'll often find myself hearing his voice when I make a move to do something stupid, or his laughter when I make some life-changing discovery. I'm sure many of us will. He was just that kind of guy.
Many users knew Luray (Santa Fe Mall) as the guy behind the "wizard" modules for OpenUI stores. Developers and designers knew him as a stand-up guy who vied to provide more tools to store owners in the areas of display and functionality.
If you ever attended a MIVA Conference, Luray was hard to miss. He was the gray-haired skinny guy, donning a western shirt and blue jeans, telling you like it is. He had many stories to share, most of which would shoot you into a bout of laughter.
As you got closer to him, though, you found Luray represented something most ideal. He didn't use his downfalls in life as a crutch, but rather threw them to the side to embark on grander things. He entered the MIVA community simply because he was bored with retirement. He'd install, for a fair price, portions of Bill Weiland's Tool Kit. Realizing a need for more custom work and further module development, Luray teamed up with a few others, which led him to delve into the OpenUI and develop his line of wizard modules. He steadfastly continued developing modules through MIVA Merchant version 4.24, and until this weekend, continued to perform installations and customizations via his Santa Fe Mall store, and DesignExtend.com. He often worked--in some form--seven days a week, with no regard to keeping actual hours. If a user needed an urgent fix, he was there to take care of it right away.
Some users were taken aback by Luray's "tell it like it is" philosophy. He never sugar-coated his answers and he expected you to listen to what he said. He was also a very giving person, rarely passing up a request for help, whether it be assistance on a store or just an ear to listen to a problem. He cared about people and he cared about what he did.
Luray is survived by his twelve-year-old daughter and he was a prime example of how parents should spend time with their children. He quite often traveled hundreds of miles to spend time with her, and he was certain to make sure she knew her father loved her more than anything.
Luray's passing was sudden. He had worked on installations, as usual, through Friday. He had spoken with many of his close community friends during last week (which was also a usual ritual).
For those who knew him simply as the "wizard" guy - perhaps you had him install a few modules and fix your store's layout - know that he did all this because he enjoyed doing so.
For his longtime clients, I'm certain there was a special relationship forged. He probably knew your children's names and where you went on vacation last year. You probably knew what kind of truck he drove. He spoke about such things because he wanted to.
For his close friends, undoubtedly his passing is something that's going to take time to deal with. You don't meet a guy like Luray every day - a guy who likes you for who you are; a guy who understands and accepts your dilemmas, but still tells you that you must get back on your feet; a guy who trusts you and doesn't care why you needed a specific favor, because asking for it was hard enough.
Luray. He fixed our stores. He became our friend. He affected our lives. Something tells me it doesn't end here. I know I'll often find myself hearing his voice when I make a move to do something stupid, or his laughter when I make some life-changing discovery. I'm sure many of us will. He was just that kind of guy.
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