Farewell to Mike Homer
We all liked Mike. In fact, we all loved the pugnacious, energetic and restlessly entrepreneurial Silicon Valley exec.
Sadly for those who knew him, Mike Homer died today at his home surrounded by family and friends, after a long battle with a severe illness. He was 50.
Homer is survived by his wife, Kristina, and three young children: James, Jack and Lucy.
His funeral is at Saint Raymond’s Catholic Church in Menlo Park on Thursday.
In 2007, Homer was diagnosed with Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease.
A rare, neurodegenerative “prion” disease, which in Homer’s case has occurred sporadically rather than via infection (the well-known variant that occurs in animals is called mad cow disease), CJD’s incidence is one case in a million annually, and few survive beyond a year after exhibiting symptoms.
His illness inspired his family and many friends to find treatments and a cure for the cruel disease, and include the man–Dr. Stanley Prusiner–who won the Nobel Prize in 1997 for discovering prions, infectious agents that are at the heart of CJD.
In late 2006, Homer began suffering from memory problems. Another close friend, Netscape co-founder Marc Andreessen, aided Homer in getting to the right doctors at Stanford University Hospital, where he was diagnosed.
Quickly, via angel investor and close Homer friend Ron Conway, who serves on the board of the University of California, San Francisco, Medical Foundation, Homer’s case was moved to UCSF. The hospital there is the only place in this country that has a major laboratory doing both research and clinical trials on CJD.
Still, there is no known cure for CJD, and treatments have been few. That might change, given the push that Homer, his family and friends had been making to accelerate the pace of discovery for treatments and a cure by raising many millions of dollars for the cause and pushing for even more aggressive development.
At an event in Palo Alto in 2007 for those interested in helping beat CJD–organized by Conway and well-known Silicon Valley exec and Homer mentor Bill Campbell, with Homer in attendance–he was in fine form, greeting well-wishers with a laugh and sassy attitude, especially given the dire situation and obvious difficulties with speech and movement.
As I wrote then:
Such fighting spirit was typical of Homer, whom I met when I was doing my first book on the rise of America Online more than a decade ago, when he was an executive at the then-high-flying Netscape.
He had also, like many, put in time at Apple and was known throughout the industry for his hard-charging and straightforward style. He needed it in the later days of Netscape, when he arduously tried to shift the company’s focus from a browser-software business besieged by Microsoft to a portal business.
Despite his sometimes tough demeanor, Homer was always willing–unlike so many others–to debate his business in an all-out-on-the-table manner I found refreshing compared to the sometimes earnest and smooth spin of most dot-com entrepreneurs.
Most of all, even when you disagreed over an issue, he always left such arguments at work and was ready with his quick laugh or a razor-sharp quip no matter what.
Recently, before his illness, Homer had been investing in and mentoring a series of start-ups. But he had also been focusing a lot on philanthropy and, most of all, his family and, especially, his three small children.”
My deep condolences go out to them and, really, everyone who had the privilege of knowing Mike.
More about his career and memories of Mike to come. But until then, here’s the video that was shot at the 2007 Palo Alto event called “The Fight for Mike,” which is introduced by Campbell:






Comments
The thing I’ll remember most about Mike is his limitless generosity. He will be missed very much.
Posted by Rachel Bremer at February 2nd, 2009 at 3:46 amALWAYS THE HOMERIC BATTLE
I’ll never forget my first meeting with Homer (a.k.a. Mike Homer). I was summoned to pitch an idea for the Netscape “Net Economy” seminar series and, since my boss Susan Dwyer had warned me about Homer’s willingness to speak his mind — sans sugar coating — I was a tad nervous. Waiting outside his “office” (a double cubical with paper-thin walls) I couldn’t help but overhear. Homer was yelling at some poor distribution partner with the same intensity and colorful language that you’d expect from a baseball manager howling at an umpire over a bad call at home plate. This didn’t exactly calm my nerves.
Right after his call abruptly ended, Mike brought me in. What was perplexing to me was that he seemed perfectly calm. If I had been as worked up as he had seemed, I would have needed time to collect myself, perhaps even take a Valium or two…or three. But oddly, we were off to a calm start, social pleasantries included. I even recall thinking, maybe my timing was perfect. Maybe after that highly manic outburst on the phone, he’d welcome a breather.
Nope. Definitely not. Two or maybe three sentences into my pitch, he started hammering me about the shortcomings of the plan. And, once again, Homer wasn’t whispering. Before I’d finish answering his previous question, he’d hit me with another. Long story short, he gave in on a few points and eventually agreed to think it over. Somewhat dejected, I left for other meetings around the Netscape campus and for several hours avoided the call to Susan to tell her that our Net Economy seminar series probably wouldn’t happen.
Here’s the cool part. When I finally checked in, Susan was in a great mood. She informed me that Homer had already given us the go-ahead and said that he only had good thing to say about our meeting. This news didn’t match my assessment of our meeting. As I attempted to describe how Homer had pretty much pounded me on every detail, Susan interrupted. She explained that Mike wasn’t one to EVER give up ground easily, and that as long as I worked on his team, I should expect to fight him for every single dime of marketing budget. Susan then also told me what I later learned for myself to be quite true, that Mike Homer was a very smart and a very good guy, AND that I should never take “the fight” with Mike Homer personally …for two really good reasons: 1.) He didn’t; and 2.) He loved it.
Now, while I’m certain Mike didn’t love this particular battle with Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, it sounds by all accounts like he did put up the type of fight you’d expect only from him. Homeric.
R.I.P Homer!
Posted by Bill Rubacky at February 2nd, 2009 at 7:06 amI have looked into an organic solvent, pesticide, teratogen, poison, neurotoxin that seems to cause many autoimmune issues of which I would suspect this one as ‘the most exposure’ to BUTYL or 2-butoxyethanol. Civilians would call the odd assortment of symptoms after ‘flu’ as Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome. Gulf war vets ‘with the syndrome’ look like them. A group to be compared to are the Exxon Valdez Oil Spill workers or any recent workers who cleanup oil spills. They should have the same harm
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Posted by Margaret Hursh at February 2nd, 2009 at 8:30 amNicely done remembrance, Ms. Swisher.
Never met Mr. Homer, but I remember him from this 1998 Wired profile: http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/6.11/homer.html. He came through as a
Posted by Dan Brekke at February 2nd, 2009 at 8:35 amHe was one of the early great marketing geniuses of the internet. We will always miss him. He was a great friend. No one who heard his laugh will ever forget it.
Jim Barksdale
Posted by jim barksdale at February 2nd, 2009 at 2:04 pmBrilliant and irreverent, we will never forget Mike.
Posted by Alain Rossmann at February 3rd, 2009 at 12:24 pmMike was one-of-a-kind! He was was truly one of the best people I ever worked for and I will always remember him fondly. He was tough but always loyal – and he brought out the best in people. It was always wild and tremendously fun to be in the game with him. Thanks for everything Mike – we will miss you!
Posted by Brooke Cohan at February 5th, 2009 at 9:50 am