I heard about D&D for the first time in Sunday school. Two brothers were talking about what they had done the night before and their conversation involved graph paper, a magic crown, some kind of monster, and traps. I had no idea what they were talking about, but I knew I wanted in. That was 1977.
I played with them using the original booklets, but eventually moved to 1E (AD&D) and at that point the game became a huge portion of my life. It defined and solidified my friends in junior high and high school--friends, thanks at least in part to D&D, that I'm in touch with today, other than my friend Jay--one of my favorite DMs of all time--who passed away last year.
I was about 14 when I was in a B. Dalton bookstore and noticed a new D&D module on the shelf--Dwellers of the Forbidden City. It looked cool, but what caught my eye was the name of the author. It wasn't the so-familiar-I-stopped-noticing name, "Gary Gygax," but "David Cook." When I saw the last name I thought, of course, "hey, that's my name." Which quickly led to the realization in my 14 year old brain that it was someone's job to write this stuff. Until then, I guess I hadn't thought about it much. I suppose I just thought that there was this untouchable, unapproachable genius out there somewhere (I had no idea where Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, was at 14) creating all of this stuff. But seeing someone with my own name made it all much more real and approachable. It was a real guy's job to write this stuff. "I want that to be my job someday," I said to myself.
I started working in the rpg field in 1988 (still in college, which means I never had a real job). I started working on D&D products in 1993, writing a portion of Elminster's Ecologies. In 1994, I moved to Lake Geneva and started at TSR full-time. Through a (very appropriate) coincidence, it was David ("Zeb") Cook who recommended me after I had met him at a convention in Denver. Very soon after starting there, I met my (now ex-) wife Sue at TSR writing Glantri: Kingdom of Magic. I helped get one of those junior high lifetime friends--the supertalented Bruce Cordell--a job there in 1995. I made new friends--many of which I'm still very close to today.
When WotC bought TSR in 1997, I moved to Seattle to stay with D&D, and most of my friends who also moved with the company. Soon thereafter, I became one of the designers of 3rd Edition D&D, a process of three years, which were some the best years of my life. It's certainly one of the high points of my now 26-year career. Even when I left WotC in 2001, I still continued to work full-time on D&D compatible products thanks to the d20 License and my own company, Malhavoc Press. (Although I played a lot of D&D from 1977 to 1997-- usually once a week--from 1997 to 2006, I played at least 2-3 times a week, and that's not counting the 2-4 times a week when I would play in a playtest during work hours. I once estimated that in those 10 years, I probably logged somewhere around 10,000 hours at the table, above and beyond writing for the game 40-50 hours a week. That's a lot of d20 rolls.)
In short, D&D and roleplaying games have been the dominant factor of the last 37 years of my life. I turn 46 next week (so I'm exactly 6 years older than the game), and I can't think of anything in my life that has defined my path more or has been so constant. It's been my major source of entertainment and fun, the genesis of the vast majority of my personal relationships, and my career.
A few years ago, I got a letter from a young guy. He wrote that for much of his life, he'd had no friends. He was awkward around other people, and didn't know how to fit in. But then he started playing D&D with some other kids and now soon found himself with a group of real, close friends. Friends that he will very likely have for a long time. He wrote to thank me, not for a game, but for friendship and a way to connect with others. What does D&D mean to me? It means that kid and his letter, which I still have on my wall. It means all of us. It means spending our time immersed in a hobby that encourages friendship, cooperation, interaction, imagination, problem solving, and a thousand other deep, true things that are so much more important than a die roll, a rulebook, or a character. More important--much more important--than a play style, a preferred edition, or a publishing company.
Happy 40th, D&D. Happy 40th, Gary and Dave. Happy 40th, Zeb. Happy 40th, Jonathan and Skip. Happy 40th, Rich, Bruce, Colin, Ray, Sue, Thomas, Steven, Michele, Ed, Wolf, Lester, Tim, John, Sean, Miranda, Chris, Erik, Keith, Andy, Jesse, Jeff, Stan!, Charles, Rob, and dozens of others. And Happy 40th Bret, Bob, Rich, Bruce (again), and in particular, Jay. You've all made my life better as we've all played and worked on this one, unique, wonderful game.