“San Francisco writer, publisher and humorist Robert Wayne Davolt, 47, died on the 16th day of May, 2005, after a brief battle with cancer… in which, obviously, the cancer came out slightly ahead,” begins his self-written obituary.
Robert’s irony and straight-forward honesty comes across in the written word just as it did in the few liquor-enhanced conversations I had with him in Daddy’s.
Robert was committed to the Leather Community and involved in a lot of other areas of San Francisco that mean little to me. It didn’t matter.
I’ll miss his willingness to share a conversation and his ability to be truly interesting about arcane stuff. Whenever our paths crossed, I’d go away glowing because I’d found another example of the wonderfulness of San Francisco.