Robert Hunter Obituary

Very dismayed to hear this news. I worked with Lance at Oracle sitting next to him a few years ago right after college, he was always a bright light and everyone knew him for his incredible focus.

Lance gave excellent hugs. They were warm and all encompassing. And when I hugged Lance it always stood out to me just how big his biceps were. It was undeniable. Big and firm... almost cartoonishly so... but not in a way that was funny. In a way that just seemed right.

It made sense that Lance played the strongman when we created a play about the circus. He was a strong man. He could lift a circus performer above his head, and you'd never think there was a danger of dropping them. But more than being strong, he was generous with his big biceps.

When you're strong like Lance, it's like being the only one in your friend group who owns a pickup truck... you just know everyone is going to ask you for help moving. And Lance was the kind of guy who would always say yes. He was never selfish about his strength and from what I remember, he never seemed bitter about being asked. He wanted to be asked. He was happy to help.

He and I had fallen out of touch over the past 10 years, but I always assumed that we'd get to hang out again. I figured I'd get to hang out again. That I could call him on a whim and catch up. That even after all these years, I could ask him for help moving something and that he would say yes. And I'm so sad that that isn't true any more.

He was always there for his friends. Always willing to share his strength and his hugs and his infectious smile. And even after all this time, I wish I had known what he was going through so that I could have been there for him too.

We loved Lance so much. I am so sad to hear about this.

Lance was a good friend in college in UT in the late 90s. I lost touch with him over the past couple of decades. He was indeed a sweet, fun guy, not afriad to speak his mind. I miss him. My condolences to his family and other loved ones.

Jack and I visited the hospital when Lance was born. A few years later, we usually played cards with Julie and Paul on Friday nights at their house when Lance and Trent were young. I remember both boys peeking around the corner from the hallway in their footie pajamas after they were supposed to be in bed. Lance in particular wanted to understand the card games we played like Hearts and Spades and to participate. I remember him studying the cards intently, clearly trying to grasp the system, the kind of thinking that I'm sure served him well in his career. Jack remembers that he enjoyed conversations with adults and would sometimes launch into long explanations of topics that interested him, such as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...a new cartoon that I was sure wouldn't last since it was such a bizarre concept. My mom taught Lance algebra at Smithfield Middle School, and she said he was an excellent math student.

I rarely saw Lance as an adult, but I always enjoyed hearing updates from Julie on his adventures, as he clearly forged a path of his own choosing: loving Austin, finding a career path in technology, attending Burning Man (early years when I'd never heard of it), and getting his art exhibited in Austin.

We grieve his loss along with Julie, Paul, Trent and all who loved Lance.

Dear Lance,
I wish I better understood what happened, but I hope you knew that I valued and appreciated you. And so I have to say these words to your family and friends, and hope that they will find comfort and feel fondness, love and pride.

As I look through your social media presence, I truly get the sense that you were someone I would have enjoyed spending time with outside of the workplace. But we were separated by time and geography -- Texas to California. I muse that you might have been into D&D or might have been a fantasy gaming geek. I see you duckpin bowling and how I tried that once in Maine (or maybe it was candlestick bowling). I see you happy and laughing with friends.

For the year that we interacted together at work, I so appreciated you being a teammate. You had a pleasant and easy going disposition. You made yourself available to your team and were very responsive online. You were present. You reviewed my PRs when no one else was around. You made yourself useful in unsung ways -- fixing security violations and updating code libraries. You also stretched yourself and built some interesting and useful tooling for our partner teams.

Anyway, I am dumb-struck and will miss you dearly.

You all are on my mind today. I will be thinking of you in your time of loss.

I only knew Lance for a couple of months, and not all that well. We never met face to face. He was a coworker, and I only joined the company three months ago. When I joined his team, Lance made the effort to reach out to me 1:1 and greet me. He was always extremely kind and warm. In every meeting prior to its start when we were both waiting, he was always the first one to greet everyone and be incredibly friendly and welcoming. He really made an impression despite my only knowing him very briefly.

My heart is with his family and friends. Losing such a kind person is such a tragic loss. My sincere condolences.