In September, after we'd released our S-1 but before Cloudflare's IPO, I took two weeks off and went back to my home town of Park City, Utah. (It's actually where Lee and I had been roommates many years before.) That two week period before you go public is known as the quiet period, so I was generally avoiding social media or answering my phone or doing anything other than resting and getting ready for the pre-IPO road show.
We hadn't talked much publicly about Lee's disease, but Michelle and I had written a bit about it in the S-1 Founders Letter:
"Finally, there are two of us signing this letter today, but three people started Cloudflare. Lee Holloway is our third co-founder and the genius who architected our platform and recruited and led our early technical team. Tragically, Lee stepped down from Cloudflare in 2016, suffering the debilitating effects of Frontotemporal Dementia, a rare neurological disease. As we began the confidential process to go public, one of the early decisions was to pick the code name for our IPO. We chose 'Project Holloway' to honor Lee’s contribution. More importantly, on a daily basis, the technical decisions Lee made, and the engineering team he built, are fundamental to the business we have become."
One evening my phone rang and the called ID came up as "Lee Holloway." I checked the number and it was his. I didn't answer and the caller didn't leave a voicemail. My first reaction was that somehow his phone had been hacked or his number was being spoofed and someone was using it to somehow screw with me. Figured someone had read about his disease in the S-1 and was being a jerk.
I reported the call to Cloudflare's security team to investigate. I also texted Lee's wife to let her know to be on the lookout. She wrote back: "No, that's Lee. Sometimes I think when he's feeling nostalgic he reaches out to old friends. He never says anything, but I think it's his way to let you know he's thinking about you."
So I still shoot him text messages from time to time to let him know I'm thinking about him. And I hope, somewhere inside his mind, there's a part of him that still knows that.
This Wired piece was amazing: full of sadness, humanity, and hope. One thing that really stood out to me was how incredible the people around Lee are. You all really care for him, and that says a lot about the type of person he is, even in the midst of this disease and the toll it must be taking on all of you.
Cloudflare is a great platform, and I'm glad, thanks to Ms. Upson, I got to know one of the folks responsible for it a little bit. I'll be sure to keep chasing the hard problems in my own day-to-day code, and keep a thought for Lee while I do it.
In September, after we'd released our S-1 but before Cloudflare's IPO, I took two weeks off and went back to my home town of Park City, Utah. (It's actually where Lee and I had been roommates many years before.) That two week period before you go public is known as the quiet period, so I was generally avoiding social media or answering my phone or doing anything other than resting and getting ready for the pre-IPO road show.
We hadn't talked much publicly about Lee's disease, but Michelle and I had written a bit about it in the S-1 Founders Letter:
"Finally, there are two of us signing this letter today, but three people started Cloudflare. Lee Holloway is our third co-founder and the genius who architected our platform and recruited and led our early technical team. Tragically, Lee stepped down from Cloudflare in 2016, suffering the debilitating effects of Frontotemporal Dementia, a rare neurological disease. As we began the confidential process to go public, one of the early decisions was to pick the code name for our IPO. We chose 'Project Holloway' to honor Lee’s contribution. More importantly, on a daily basis, the technical decisions Lee made, and the engineering team he built, are fundamental to the business we have become."
One evening my phone rang and the called ID came up as "Lee Holloway." I checked the number and it was his. I didn't answer and the caller didn't leave a voicemail. My first reaction was that somehow his phone had been hacked or his number was being spoofed and someone was using it to somehow screw with me. Figured someone had read about his disease in the S-1 and was being a jerk.
I reported the call to Cloudflare's security team to investigate. I also texted Lee's wife to let her know to be on the lookout. She wrote back: "No, that's Lee. Sometimes I think when he's feeling nostalgic he reaches out to old friends. He never says anything, but I think it's his way to let you know he's thinking about you."
So I still shoot him text messages from time to time to let him know I'm thinking about him. And I hope, somewhere inside his mind, there's a part of him that still knows that.