The City is Poorer Without PJ Corkery

It’s been a month since journalist and author PJ Corkery died of non-Hodgkins lymphoma, but somehow I just found out today. He was incredibly kind and generous to me when I was an upstart punk of a blogger trying to make a name for SFist — responding to my emails, mentioning our work in his San Francisco Examiner column, inviting me to a dine and dish at the legendary Washington Square Bar & Grill, showing up to the site’s anniversary party (where I was a little too star-struck to interrupt a conversation between him and Matt Gonzalez to say hello). Even after I left SFist and he left the Examiner, we stayed in touch, though most of it was me begging for a look at Basic Brown. My naive persistence paid off when he gifted me a graciously inscribed copy which I shall cherish. His erudite, precise and witty words of wisdom inspired me to press on as a writer, for which I thank him publicly and profusely. We are all the richer for his meritorious literary contributions.

I’ll miss you, Peej. Deeply.