"Hello everyone," Dennis began an email to us, his colleagues from the University Communications department, during the first coronavirus lockdown on March 31, 2020. "It's strange not being able to come into my office on weekdays. I miss the conversations, however brief, with you; with my department."
Dennis Burghardt, born in 1991, began his training at Fachhochschule Dortmund in 2012 and became our colleague in the University Communications department in 2016. He suffered from Duchenne muscular dystrophy and lived his life from a wheelchair, with a headrest, breathing mask and constant support.
But even though his permanent caregiver Patrik (who also became our valued colleague) guided him through the day, Dennis led his life. Steadfastly forward, like an explorer, every breath an achievement, every day a challenge, every year a triumph over medical predictions. Dennis did not crouch in his wheelchair. He was enthroned.
Sneakers, BVB, heavy metal and the language
Professionally, he was a credit to the team. Meticulous, reliable, with routine and an overview. He also collected sneakers, indulged in energy drinks, celebrated BVB and listened to heavy metal: "Working at home has one advantage," he wrote in the email at the time, "I can play my hard rock songs on my headphones loud and undisturbed. Crazy as I am, I can really concentrate in this constellation."
Dennis loved the language. He calmly placed charming bon mots, as dry as the SON courtyard in August. Between his concise, factual, business emails - typing also cost him patience and energy - he would occasionally sprinkle in lovingly written, poetic interjections. "For my part, I find it easy to reflect during emotionally and actually funny times," he reflected in the email at the time. "First I go through the negative things, then immediately afterwards the positive ones. Like someone sowing flowers. First the work with the dirty soil, later the beautiful and colorful view. Plants are like life. A certain amount of patience is required, and you must not forget to nurture and care for them. Everything else is boring, such a goal in the absence of a path."
Such emails have become less frequent in recent years. Perhaps because he was concentrating on his book instead: "The Sun Behind the Zenith", a full-blown fantasy novel, published in early 2024, 350 pages, six years of work, we marveled and marveled.
Dennis smiled with his eyes. Sometimes the wheelchair stood between us and the breathing mask split what should have been a chat into strange pieces. Then he would bring us very close to him again with a wink full of affection. Just like that. His heart seemed huge to us.
Dennis died at the beginning of March. Unexpected, a shock. At his funeral, the priest said that Dennis was now free from all restrictions and could finally develop and do everything he wanted, and we sat there with fire-colored roses in our hands and the wish glowed in us that this was really the case. Who deserved it more than him, who made so much out of so little. Whose will was stronger than muscles could ever be.
His email from back then ends like this: "This vegetable metaphor can be taken further. Without the work of the one, the plant has no chance of growing. Without the other's urge to grow, the human being has no chance of achieving results. An interplay whenever two or more parties are involved. Both privately and professionally.
I look forward to seeing you all again!
Best regards
your poet",
and we read these words and see him wink.
Dennis Burghardt's novel "Sonne hinter dem Zenit" is available for lending with the shelf mark CSNB 3 in the library at the Emil-Figge-Straße location. It can also be searched via our RiO library system and can be ordered to other library locations.