Dick Sabot (February 16, 1944 - July 10, 2005) was an economist, scholar, farmer, and Internet pioneer who was co-founder of Tripod.com, one of the first and most successful dot-coms, in 1992. (It was subsequently sold to Lycos in 1998) He was also a co-founder of Eziba (later aquired by Overstock.com), an Internet venture which sold handcrafted goods from artisans around the world. He was a professor emeritus at Williams College, but also taught economics at Yale University, Oxford University, and Columbia University. He was seen as a leading figure in building the technical economy of Williamstown, Massachusetts, known as "Silicon Village" during the dot-com era.

He was born in New York City, New York and attended college at the University of Pennsylvania and completed his doctorate at Oxford University, though he also studied at Cambridge University. He subsequently worked for ten years at the World Bank and was also a senior advisor to the Inter-American Development Bank and International Food Policy Research Institute.

He served on the board of directors of several companies including Lycos, Geekcorps, and International Executive Service Corps. Sabot also wrote many articles and books on the economics of development. He was an Honorary Fellow of Pembroke College, Oxford University (UK), and a member of the Boards of Overseers of the College of Arts and Sciences of the University of Pennsylvania and of Colby College. He died in 2005 of a heart attack.

(Note: The preceding article is available under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License.)

Obituary from the Berkshire Eagle
Article from the North Adams Transcript

Fond Memories:

Dick always adored dogs and loved the concept of dog years. I'm sure you all know what I'm referring to: every one year of a dog's development is like seven years of development for a human being. Dick used to say that the life of the Internet is measured in double dog years: every one year of the Internet's development is like fourteen years of development for any other medium. When presenting Tripod at conferences and trade shows, I used this "double dog years" concept to rave reviews from audiences. It was an ingenious way to help people understand just how fast the Internet was changing.

Dick Sabot lived his life in triple dog years. Indeed, every one of Dick's years was like twenty-one years for us normal human beings. So while I know we all think that Dick passed away at the age of sixty-one. I'm here to share the good news with you that in fact he was actually 1,281 years old.

Husband, father, scholar, teacher, athlete, world traveler, entrepreneur, farmer, and cheese maker; it's not possible that all of this was done, and done so well, in sixty-one years. At the very least, if he did do it all in sixty-one years, it makes me feel like a slouch, so I'm sticking with him being 1,281 years old.

What made Dick's incredible life possible was the enormity of his spirit. Dick's spirit is so powerful and so wise that it simply outsized his body. The night Dick passed away, I said to Jude that his spirit was finally free to really stretch. Having finally shed the earthly form it had been squeezed into, only now could Dick's spirit realize its full potential.

I was blessed to spend two hours with Dick's spirit the day it rose up off this planet. Dick and I had one of our walks; something we'd been doing for ten years. My walks with Dick were always life-changing events for me. I've always placed such a high value on his advice and perspective that every walk with Dick resulted in change for me. I would leave our walks with a list of things to act on in some area of my life that I was struggling with.

Dick and I saw Judy Kozak on our walk that day. A few days later she mentioned to me how happy she'd been to see me walking with Dick. She hadn't seen us on a walk for several months. I told Judy that while I was in my twenties I had the energy to radically alter my life perspective once, sometimes even twice a week, in my old age I could only handle a walk with Dick once every few months!

Sure enough, on our last walk together, Dick altered my life again. But this time there was something very different about the way he did it. He spoke to me that day with an uncharacteristic certainty. We all know Dick is a man of conviction, but he is also a man of measured and nuanced responses. Not on that day. Dick spoke to me in a way that he never had; so much so that I stopped on the trail, turned around and asked him why this time he was so sure of the advice he was giving me. Frankly, in another completely uncharacteristic move, Dick didn't have a very satisfying answer. He couldn't tell me why on that day he was speaking to me in such absolutes. Now, I can't help but believe that Dick's spirit new something his body did not.

Dick, I am really going to miss those walks with your body, but I know your spirit will always walk with me.

~Bo Peabody

What I remember best about Dick Sabot (other than his kind nature, booming voice and speech peppered with phrases like 'very entrepreneurial' and 'Yankee frugality') was the day he welcomed me into his office when I was a lowly junior designer and he was a founder of Tripod.

He had mentioned in the weekly staff meeting that Tripod was trying to do a 'very entrepreneurial' deal with a foreign government that isn't known for being terribly open to either free speech, human rights or the cause of democracy. The deal didn't sit very well with me and I mentioned this to him in passing, like somehow my opinion mattered in the grand scheme of an Internet boom. But you know what? To him, it did.

A day or so later, he called me into his office and we spent an hour or so discussing globalization vs anti-globalization and boycotting abusive foreign governments and trying to get democracy to spread from the ground up.

I was 23 and he was 54. A kid who had never left the country and a man who had been a senior economic advisor to the World Bank. Though we both knew I wasn't going to change his mind, he sat and listened to my concerns and took them to heart, even mentioning them at the next staff meeting. A pretty classy move, I think, and one that he definitely didn't have to make.

He will very much be missed.

~Jay Patrikios

Dick Sabot, RIP

When I checked my mail the other day and saw a note from Ethan Zuckerman, a smile instantly came to my face. While at Tripod, Ethan radiated a whirlwind of energy and smart ideas constantly spilling out of his large frame and bare feet. Ethan was, and still is, good people. And then I read the email.

Dick Sabot, Ethan's mentor and my indirect benefactor (without Dick, Tripod would never have been born), had passed suddenly due to a heart attack. My heart dropped a few inches in my chest. While I can't say I had the pleasure to work closely or develop a strong personal relationship with Dick, the man was inspiring on numerous levels.

More than anything, I remember Dick as a generous person. I can't tell you how many times he opened his Oblong Road home to "the kids" of Tripod (we were all 20 - 35 years old, living and working in a 3,000 person town with a limited social scene), throwing pool parties, backyard barbeques, etc. And while Dick was refined, he was also extremely laid back. I like to remember him standing poolside donning his casual afternoon attire, enjoying a refreshing drink while two 28 year-old developers chased each other in dripping wet swimsuits, just missing knocking him and his non-Tripod guests over. The non-Tripod folks' expression dipped for a few seconds; Dick just smiled and continue his conversation.

This weekend, a bunch of ex-Tripoders are migrating up to Williamstown to pay their respects, sampling a tasting of Cricket Creek Cheese, Dick's most recent entrepreneurial project, and holding a gathering in the muddy fields of a nearby meadow. While Tripod will be remembered by outsiders as the first homepage building and community service, this weekend is an example of the real community aspect of my Tripod experience.

My condolences to the Sabot family; blood and otherwise.

~Sean Coon

Dick Sabot was a dichotomy. I first met him in 1999 when I was working through a career decision. I lived in Pittsburgh, but had stopped up to Williamstown several times to help out with Tripod. One winter day, Dick invited me to his home in Williamstown to talk.

I wasn't sure what to expect. A quick web search told me Dick was a Sr. Economic Advisor to the World Bank as well as a former professor at Columbia, Oxford, and Yale. I expected someone formal, self-important, maybe even a bit arrogant. Dick was none of these. He warmly greeted me at the door of his lovely "farm house" on Oblong road and we spoke over sandwiches about his plans for Tripod, the Berkshires, and the Internet.

He was down-to-earth and practical. His advice for the New England weather: "Dress in Layers". And he did. A casual shirt, fleece vest, and jacket, was his most common apparel. What struck me most was how Dick could see not only the local impact, but also the global role for what he did. Tripod was not about cashing in on personal publishing, it was about democratizing the web so that everyone could be heard. Eziba, and other Berkshire high-tech companies were not about capitalizing on the Internet boom, but about transforming the economics of the region.

After speaking with Dick, I decided to move my family to the Berkshires and join the Tripod family. I built a house down the street from Dick's house, and at the same time built an appreciation for the culture Dick was creating in the community. Dick continued to surprise me with his unpretentious attitude. One day, shortly after I moved in, my doorbell rang. It was Dick. He smiled and wanted to know if he could swing by sometime and cut my lawn. You see, he had this riding lawn mower... I laughed, and turned him down. Senior Economic Advisor cutting my grass? We talked about Oblong Road and Williamstown a bit, before he continued his stroll. I mentioned Dick's offer to mutual friend who laughed and said, "Well, Dick probably did want to cut your lawn --its got a beautiful view of Mount Graylock."

Dick, your earthy practical nature, and lofty vision made an impact on all of us who worked with you. We will miss you.

~Don Kosak