Eric Robert Greene

DURHAM- Eric Robert Greene, who loved observing the night sky, and whose writings on defying the odds against cancer inspired many around him, died on July 12 with family by his side following a brief battle with pneumonia. He was 79.

Born on June 19, 1946, in Fitchburg, Massachusetts, Eric grew up in New York between Fort Salonga on Long Island and Jackson Heights. He loved roaming the museums of New York City especially the American Museum of Natural History.

At the age of 7, Eric peered through his first telescope and fell in love with all things celestial. He came to treasure trips to the Hayden Planetarium. As a lifelong amateur astronomer, he spent many years navigating the deep sky with his trusty 8-inch Celestron and other telescopes, logging thousands of galaxies, star clusters and nebulae.

Eric also had a keen interest in photography. By the time he was a teenager he was the photo editor for his high school yearbook. He was often asked to photograph dinners and weddings. On travels, he was instantly recognizable by his beloved Nikon DSLR camera which rarely left his hand.

After a few semesters of college at the University of Pittsburgh, Eric enlisted in the Army at age 19, eventually serving two tours in Vietnam and achieving the rank of Specialist Fourth Class.

While in the Army, he drove huge 5-ton trucks on rough Vietnamese roads. But he also started working with computers, learning to repair and program a 200-pound digital computer used by the Army in the 1960s to calculate artillery firing data.

This opened up an entire world and started a lifelong love of computers.

When he got out of the Army in 1968 he made a career for himself as a network manager at AT&T and then BellSouth, taking jobs in New York City, Denver, West Palm Beach and Atlanta.

Eric was an early user of the World Wide Web. In 1980 he bought his first PC, a TRS-80 from Radio Shack with a 5-megabyte hard drive, which he used to put up a computer bulletin board -- a precursor to today’s web forums -- for his local astronomy association.

In 1995 at age 49 he married Candace Davis, a pediatrician in Atlanta who knew very little about tech but quite a lot about medicine. Together they forged a new life that was more than the sum of its parts.

Then in October 2000 he received a call that would change his life again. It was his doctor with the news that he had esophageal cancer. “The statistics were so bad we had very little hope of having a future,” he wrote in his online chronicle of the ordeal. Thus began what he called his “dance with the dragon,” a six-month whirlwind of chemo, radiation and surgery.

Adapting after surgery was rough, marking a difficult chapter in his life. With most of his esophagus and a quarter of his stomach removed, he had to learn how to eat all over again. He wrote that one of life's great pleasures had become “one of his least favorite chores.”

But slowly, very slowly, the many follow-up scans became less anxiety-inducing, “and the future started to open up again,” he said. He started a support group for people living with esophageal cancer, including monthly luncheons and backyard picnics for survivors and caregivers at his and Candace’s home in Atlanta. They started hoping and dreaming and looking ahead.

“Cancer is no longer the dominating event of our lives,” he wrote in his diary in 2007.

After nearly four decades with the phone company he retired in 2006. When Candace followed suit in 2014, they sold their home in Atlanta where they lived for 22 years and moved to Ohio to spend more time with Candace’s family, with annual trips to Florida where they took haven from Ohio winters.

They took wonderful trips to Niagara Falls, Ontario, Quebec, Washington State, Colorado, Ireland, France, and a river cruise down the Rhine. For his 70th birthday, 15 years after his diagnosis, Eric celebrated by going skydiving.

In 2023 they said goodbye to their Ohio dream home and their Florida condo and moved to North Carolina to be closer to their daughters and five grandchildren.

Eric lived his life with a positive attitude and a light spirit. He never missed a chance to vote in an election or charm a child. He never chafed at getting awakened in the morning by a piling-on of grandkids.

Happiness for him was an armchair and a new Stephen King book. A plate of pan seared scallops and a vodka martini with friends at Conchy Joe’s. Packing his telescope in his Dodge Ram conversion van and driving out to the Winter Star Party. Photographing the sunset over the St. Lucie River in Stuart, Florida, or taking close-ups of Candace’s many flower gardens.

Love was teaching his children and grandchildren how to change a flat tire, play chess, or build a treehouse. Taking an interest in what his loved ones were reading, writing, growing or building. Serving them the perfect Yorkshire pudding.

Despite struggling to breathe in his last days, Eric kept some of his jovial nature to the end, managing small jokes and quips with his nurses and grandchildren from his hospital bed.

Eric often said that he did not believe in any sort of afterlife, but if one exists we hope the nights are clear and the skies are dark in his. May he forever enjoy the blue-green glow from his favorite nebula.

Eric is survived by his wife of 30 years, Candace Greene; his daughter Virginia Marie Greene and grandson Maxwell of Milledgeville, Georgia; his son Thomas Greene of Daytona Beach, Florida; his sister Elaine Schuman and brother-in-law Robert Schuman of Boulder County, Colorado; stepdaughters Sarah Dean and Robin Smith and families; many other family members and friends who will miss him deeply.

A visitation will be held from 1:00 to 2:00 p.m. Saturday, August 2, 2025 at the Hall-Wynne Funeral Service Chapel. A memorial service will follow at 2:00 p.m., Saturday, August 2, 2025 at the Hall-Wynne Funeral Service Chapel.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Esophageal Cancer Action Network at https://ecan.org/

The Greene family is under the care of Hall-Wynne Funeral Service.

Online condolences: www.hallwynne.com – select obituaries.