I got to know Gary through Dave; the latter used to send me down to Lake Geneva as his proxy to vote his token share of TSR stock at what passed for stockholders' meetings, and I had the dubious and difficult job of being a voice of reason during the struggles between Gary and the Blume Brothers (tm) over who was going to control TSR. Gary often found that Dave was in agreement with his views, and was surprised that I'd put them with all the passion that I could in the meetings. He took me out to lunch a couple of times, and we talked about the early days of gaming and TSR, and how and where things had gone wrong. I'd pass along Gary's views to Dave, and Dave's to Gary, and it was astonishing to both how often they actually agreed with each other.It's funny, because I've often mused, lately especially, that the entire history of the hobby would likely have been very different had Gary and Dave not had their falling out after the launch of D&D. Both men had their faults but they also had great virtues and, in retrospect, it seems clearer to me that their virtues were complementary ones: Dave's boundless -- and eccentric -- creativity and Gary's eye for "the big picture" and relentless promotion of the game.
Together, these virtues allowed Dungeons & Dragons to live and breathe and grow, establishing itself as the font from which our shared hobby flows. The dispute between its co-creators weakened the game in my opinion, collapsing one of its "lungs" and leaving it gasping ever since. Such a pity that the comity Jeff Berry describes in his recollection did not result in something more permanent and wide-reaching in its implications. But it's amusing to consider nonetheless.