Most of the autobiographical comics that were produced in the 1990's leave me kind of cold because they are essentially whiny and self absorbed.
So, that in Seattle during the zenith of the "Grunge" era, which was essentially whiny and self absorbed, a writer like Dennis Eichhorn was a very unusual animal to appear on the scene.
Since he had truly experienced an interesting life with adventures, his autobiographical short stories were actually simultaneously funny, terrifying, interesting, and filled with intrigue.
Besides which, he had an excellent eye for pairing illustrator with story. So the aesthetic moods of the images always worked in the strongest possible fashion.
He was also extremely gracious to me and very easy to work with.
Dennis Eichhorn was like an Alternative Paul Bunyan, and one time I got to be Babe the Blue Ox.
Thanks Dennis and R.I.P.