
His novels were sometimes banned in school libraries for their language and sexual innuendo. Of course, this caused students to seek out his books. When they finally did get Vonnegut in their hands, they were exposed to a world that was often violent and war-torn, but always offered dark humor and morality as a guiding compass.
I had the honor of meeting Kurt Vonnegut about ten years ago. A local university professor was an old friend of the author's, and had invited him to speak to his students. I heard about the event and found a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend to garner admittance.
Held in a very small lecture hall, only about a hundred people were allowed into the room. It was a magical two hours, with the professor and the old man trading stories like the old friends they were.
Vonnegut was peaceful, far more soft-spoken than I would have imagined, and deftly, wickedly funny. While it was difficult to peel my eyes away from the living legend, I occasionally glanced around the room to see the same rapt look on every student's face in the room.
It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I am so thankful for the opportunity. Vonnegut was incredibly gracious about answering questions from students. Many of us asked about Dresden, a key turning-point in his life.
What I remember most is that he was able to relay some of the horrors surrounding that event, yet peppered the recollections with humor. I sat there and realized, this is what life is, then. Some really terrible things happen, yet there are glimmers of hope and light that we have to retain.

And just like that, Kurt Vonnegut slipped away from his earthly audience, after 84 years of the horrific and the fantastic. So it goes.
Thank you, Mr. Vonnegut. You will truly be missed.