At chessgames.com, there is a heartfelt remembrance of Bobby Fischer by an Italian woman named Elisa Sarto.
Jan-22-08 Liz: PART 1: DEAR FRIENDS, I WANT TO SHARE WITH YOU A SPECIAL MEMORY OF BOBBY FISCHER. I had the privilege of corresponding with him from March to November 2002 with daily phone calls and daily emailS, possibly up to 25 - 30 a day - a ride on the roller-coaster. In August 2002 I flew to Tokyo to pay him a visit. That was still the time when nobody knew where in the world he was living. I want to bring my testimony that he was a good-hearted individual, highly sensitive, affectionate and genuine. In one of my early emails to him (he did receive them on his cell phone) I asked him whether he was still a dreamer and he replied "more than ever". He enjoyed spending time at thermal baths or springs so when I arrived in Tokyo I had to wait a few days for him to get back in town. I met him on a Sunday morning in the district of Shibuya. he made me smile when he said that I must have been "very clever!" since I had been there only for a few days and already knew how to read the subway map. He told me that he he had been in Tokyo for 6 years but he still couldn't figure out how the subway worked - he only knew how to go from his home to either Shibuya or Shinjuku. Very sweet. He was extremely fond of animals. We went to the Ueno park in Tokyo. there we had a walk and we sat down at a café and he ordered tea and a pizza. Whenever a cat would approach he would try to feed him a small bite of pizza and if the cat walked away Bobby would stand up and run after the cat.
Jan-22-08 Liz: PART 2: My most special memory of him remains this: we were sitting on a bench in the Ueno park and Bobby was discussing films he had seen and enjoyed. At some point a black crow approached (for those who don't know - in Ueno there are HUGE black crows, so huge I had never seen) and Bobby suddenly stopped speaking. He looked at the crow and said "LOOK! WHAT A BEAUTY". And I felt as if time had stopped, and we were surrounded by a sense of suspended beauty. Now whenever I remember this I start to cry. Such was Bobby Fischer: one whose immense sensitivity allowed him to see beauty in the smallest and simplest thing. He was also melancholy: whan I asked him if he believed (I don't) if happiness was possible he replied that he never thought of it because it was "too painful". He enjoyed spending time with people. He was very friendly, and affectionate. He used to call me "Liz" a shortened version, according to him, of my name, Elisa. I remember the first time he phoned me - at 3.20 am. He didn't believe i was a girl of 26, he thought I was a journalist trying to cheat him. When I answered his call he said "Elisa?" and I said "Yes?". Then he was silent for a moment, then gave a short laugh and replied "Hi, this is Bobby". I always had the feeling that all he was asking of people was kindness and understanding. If you granted him this he could be very relaxed around you. I feel sorry because many people have a distorted image of him. This is not to say he wasn't a difficult character - he was indeed and one had to be careful with what one was saying to him. But I am confident that anyone who has had the privilege of spending a little time with him and talk to him will agree with me that an immense and fragile beauty dwelled in him. He had a pure heart, like a child's. And somehow he had managed to retain that innocence into adulthood - an innocence that most people lose when they come of age. By the end of the year our correspondence was less frequent. He was only writing occasionally. I asked him many times the reason behind this but never managed to get a satisfactory answer. I guess one has to accept this as part of Bobby's personality: that someday he might disappear and you are left hurt and wondering why. Since he left Japan I never heard from him again. A couple of months ago I decided that I would try and contact him again: maybe this time he would reply. I didn't know he was ill - if I had known I would have flown to Iceland. Now it is too late and my deepest grief is that I was not able to say goodbye. However I am happy that I wrote him a long hand-written letter before leaving Japan to come back to Italy: in the letter I made clear what my thoughts of him were: that he was a bautiful individual, kind, sensitive and very very special. That there was a beauty in him that surpassed all human imagination. And that he remained the best thing I had seen in my whole life. Today I still feel that way. Goodbye, Bobby, from those of us who love you.
Elisa Sarto
Jan-22-08 Liz: Since some has inquired I would like to point out that I am not a chess player. I am an individual who, under of a set of really incredible circumstances, had the privilege of briefly be acquainted with Bobby Fischer. Bobby also inquired if I was a chess player and when I told him that no, I wasn't, and that I had no idea how the different chess pieces move I feared he would be disappointed, that he was solely interested in chess, but I was wrong. He gave a laugh and said "oh that's better" - he sounded pleased. I think it's because he enjoyed people who appreciated him as a person much better than those who approached him as the "World Chess Champion". There was this craving for understanding in him. I keep one of his emails in my wallet which says: "Thank you, Liz! You are so kind and understanding to me. Are you for real?". He never discussed chess on the day that we spent together except for once when we went to this book-store in Shinjuku where he saw a book on whose cover was a chess piece. He said "Chess!" and that was all he ever said about chess in the months when we corresponded. "Liz" is the way he used to call me as he thought it would make a nice shortened version for my real name, Elisa. I recall he would call me "Elisa" whenever he was speaking more seriously and "Liz" when we had a more relaxed conversation. I did include my real name in the post as I think there is no reason for fearing revealing one's identity when dealing with important matters such as the passing away of an individual. I know there are people in this forum who admired Bobby and I thought it would be nice to share with you my experience which only I and close friends of mine are aware of and which reveals a more private side of his personality. I wish I could have talked to my parents about the reason why I was in such distress last week-end but I couldn't (my parents still don't know the true reason why I made that trip from Italy to Japan). When somebody you have known passes away, it is strange this need that you have to remember them and talk about them to people. You feel that if you don't you're going to choke. I guess it is the way of dealing with loss. I wish to thank those of you who have replied: this helps easing the grief I am experiencing in these days. I think that those of us who were lucky to spend time with him him felt a bit lonelier on the day he died. I feel as if I were aware that, with his death, Innocence has lost another square to Corruption in the world. I like to think that he is in Heaven now with his mother, his sister and her Persian cat, of which he was very fond. A friend and I went out the other night to look at the sky and we spotted 3 stars, close to one another and perfectly in line. We decided that they were Bobby, Regina and Joan and we waved our hands. I like to think that they were together watching, and smiling at us. Thanks everybody in this forum, really. Thank you.
Elisa Sarto
Jan-22-08 Liz: PART 2: My most special memory of him remains this: we were sitting on a bench in the Ueno park and Bobby was discussing films he had seen and enjoyed. At some point a black crow approached (for those who don't know - in Ueno there are HUGE black crows, so huge I had never seen) and Bobby suddenly stopped speaking. He looked at the crow and said "LOOK! WHAT A BEAUTY". And I felt as if time had stopped, and we were surrounded by a sense of suspended beauty. Now whenever I remember this I start to cry. Such was Bobby Fischer: one whose immense sensitivity allowed him to see beauty in the smallest and simplest thing. He was also melancholy: whan I asked him if he believed (I don't) if happiness was possible he replied that he never thought of it because it was "too painful". He enjoyed spending time with people. He was very friendly, and affectionate. He used to call me "Liz" a shortened version, according to him, of my name, Elisa. I remember the first time he phoned me - at 3.20 am. He didn't believe i was a girl of 26, he thought I was a journalist trying to cheat him. When I answered his call he said "Elisa?" and I said "Yes?". Then he was silent for a moment, then gave a short laugh and replied "Hi, this is Bobby". I always had the feeling that all he was asking of people was kindness and understanding. If you granted him this he could be very relaxed around you. I feel sorry because many people have a distorted image of him. This is not to say he wasn't a difficult character - he was indeed and one had to be careful with what one was saying to him. But I am confident that anyone who has had the privilege of spending a little time with him and talk to him will agree with me that an immense and fragile beauty dwelled in him. He had a pure heart, like a child's. And somehow he had managed to retain that innocence into adulthood - an innocence that most people lose when they come of age. By the end of the year our correspondence was less frequent. He was only writing occasionally. I asked him many times the reason behind this but never managed to get a satisfactory answer. I guess one has to accept this as part of Bobby's personality: that someday he might disappear and you are left hurt and wondering why. Since he left Japan I never heard from him again. A couple of months ago I decided that I would try and contact him again: maybe this time he would reply. I didn't know he was ill - if I had known I would have flown to Iceland. Now it is too late and my deepest grief is that I was not able to say goodbye. However I am happy that I wrote him a long hand-written letter before leaving Japan to come back to Italy: in the letter I made clear what my thoughts of him were: that he was a bautiful individual, kind, sensitive and very very special. That there was a beauty in him that surpassed all human imagination. And that he remained the best thing I had seen in my whole life. Today I still feel that way. Goodbye, Bobby, from those of us who love you.
Elisa Sarto
Jan-22-08 Liz: Since some has inquired I would like to point out that I am not a chess player. I am an individual who, under of a set of really incredible circumstances, had the privilege of briefly be acquainted with Bobby Fischer. Bobby also inquired if I was a chess player and when I told him that no, I wasn't, and that I had no idea how the different chess pieces move I feared he would be disappointed, that he was solely interested in chess, but I was wrong. He gave a laugh and said "oh that's better" - he sounded pleased. I think it's because he enjoyed people who appreciated him as a person much better than those who approached him as the "World Chess Champion". There was this craving for understanding in him. I keep one of his emails in my wallet which says: "Thank you, Liz! You are so kind and understanding to me. Are you for real?". He never discussed chess on the day that we spent together except for once when we went to this book-store in Shinjuku where he saw a book on whose cover was a chess piece. He said "Chess!" and that was all he ever said about chess in the months when we corresponded. "Liz" is the way he used to call me as he thought it would make a nice shortened version for my real name, Elisa. I recall he would call me "Elisa" whenever he was speaking more seriously and "Liz" when we had a more relaxed conversation. I did include my real name in the post as I think there is no reason for fearing revealing one's identity when dealing with important matters such as the passing away of an individual. I know there are people in this forum who admired Bobby and I thought it would be nice to share with you my experience which only I and close friends of mine are aware of and which reveals a more private side of his personality. I wish I could have talked to my parents about the reason why I was in such distress last week-end but I couldn't (my parents still don't know the true reason why I made that trip from Italy to Japan). When somebody you have known passes away, it is strange this need that you have to remember them and talk about them to people. You feel that if you don't you're going to choke. I guess it is the way of dealing with loss. I wish to thank those of you who have replied: this helps easing the grief I am experiencing in these days. I think that those of us who were lucky to spend time with him him felt a bit lonelier on the day he died. I feel as if I were aware that, with his death, Innocence has lost another square to Corruption in the world. I like to think that he is in Heaven now with his mother, his sister and her Persian cat, of which he was very fond. A friend and I went out the other night to look at the sky and we spotted 3 stars, close to one another and perfectly in line. We decided that they were Bobby, Regina and Joan and we waved our hands. I like to think that they were together watching, and smiling at us. Thanks everybody in this forum, really. Thank you.
Elisa Sarto
