Another Great Loss For PCLinuxOS

As any long time Linux user knows, people coming and going from our favorite distro – whichever one that may be – is a common occurrence. People move to another distro, people’s priorities in life change, and people pass on to another plane of existence. Oftentimes, this happens suddenly and without explanation, especially when it comes to the latter reason.

PCLinuxOS is not exempt from this. Over my 18+ years running PCLinuxOS, I’ve seen my fair share of users who have “moved on” for one reason or another. Sproggy, Joble, Tara-Rains, Hootiegibbon, joechimp, µT6, BaldBrick, Neal ManBear, Archie, Wamukota, and many others have moved on over those years for one of the reasons listed above.

We usually don’t “report” on those who leave, except for that last reason where our forum friend and family member passes on to another plane of existence. Unfortunately and sadly, we have lost another user. And, because of who it is, this one hurts a bit more than most of the others.

I was notified in early January that we have lost Artim. At only 15 years old, he was one of the youngest PCLinuxOS users amongst our midst. Artim made only 48 posts in the new PCLinuxOS forum during his brief stay with PCLinuxOS, but his impact on those he interacted with was profound.

Talking to him, you’d never know that Artim was only 15 years old. He possessed a wisdom and sophistication that was far, far beyond his youthful years.

I first noticed Artim from his posts in the PCLinuxOS forum. Back in early June, he sent me a PM, inquiring if there was anything he could do to help with the magazine. Here is his message:

The magazine is amaaaaaazing, beautifully laid out, fun, and informative. I have no technical expertise, but I'd like to help/contribute if I can to the magazine. I'm a bit leery of Google, perhaps without sufficient cause, but all the talk of Google's data mining creeps me out. Is there another way I can help, perhaps with proofreading? I have no other talents to offer (yet), other than enthusiasm for the project.

I wrote a kinda-sorta "review" of PCLinuxOS on my weblog, which chronicles a little of my Linux journey. I'm not sure it qualifies as a review at all, but I'd love to hear your suggestions on what makes a good review and how I can improve my own halting attempts at it.

Once I received his initial PM, I started paying closer attention to his writing style in his posts. Not only did he demonstrate a competent grasp on the topics he was responding to, but his writing ability exceeded that of many adults that I’ve worked with over the years. He definitely had a mastery of the written word, conveying his thoughts and ideas clearly and succinctly. I just knew that I had to see if I could get him to write for The PCLinuxOS Magazine. At that time, I had NO idea that he was only 15 years old.

Over the time I spent talking to him and reading his forum posts, I came to realize what his chronological age really was. One post he initiated in the forum asked for guidance on “What You Wanted To Be When You Grew Up?” That was when I realized how youthful he really was. The replies to his question ended up going on for four pages of replies from many forum members, with each offering up their own pearls of wisdom on the topic.

Artim and I continued to correspond, both by PM and email. Eventually, he submitted his first article, entitled “Why PCLinuxOS?” His first article appeared in the December, 2025 issue of The PCLinuxOS Magazine. He then set out to carve out his own niche with the magazine, choosing to attempt to resurrect the “PCLinuxOS Forum Family & Friends” article series. He renamed it “Getting To Know You,” and his first article in that series was about hunter0one. That article ran in the January, 2026 issue of The PCLinuxOS Magazine. As you’ll see below, I’m not sure if he ever saw his article on hunter0one published in the magazine.

In early December, Artim sent me an email stating that he would need to take a “sick leave.” This is how he explained things:

I have been in the hospital for a few days while they try to figure out why I collapsed at baseball practice. Chest pain, hard to breathe, puking, then collapse. I don't even remember the ambulance ride.

Myocarditis is what they think is going on after doing a bunch of tests. Heart rhythm is all out of whack and there's damage to the muscle. One of the doctors said he is seeing a lot more kids having this since the mandatory Covid-19 shots.

Anyway I am sort of out of commission, with only occasional access to a computer, so I might not be able to contribute very much until I'm home and have unrestricted computer access. And I'm not allowed to play baseball, do SCUBA diving, or much of anything else yet.

He followed up his email nine days later:

They decided I need an implanted defibrillator. They have had to jump start my heart a few times because I have sudden, life-threatening rhythm changes where my heart just sort of quivers instead of beating and pumping like it should.

No more baseball, no more SCUBA diving, but I hope I can still at least do other things. But my heart is pretty damaged, they tell me, and if it can't be managed with drugs and the defibrillator I'll be a transplant candidate.

The next thing I heard was on January 8, 2026, from his foster parents:

I am deeply sorry to share this devastating news, that little Artim has succumbed to the injuries to his heart. I will set his mailbox to an auto-responder so that his many friends and foster siblings will know of his passing.

One of the few things Artim was most excited to participate in was this group and the Linux forum. He was a delightful, cheerful boy in spite of all he'd been through. A lesser person would have become bitter and morose, but Artim was bright, sunny, cheerful, and always grateful. In the end, he gave far more precious love and happiness that we were able to give him as his foster family. We had hoped to formally adopt Artim when this episode interrupted our plans and eventually took his life.

Thank you for the little but meaningful part you played in his life.

When I replied to this email, I informed them that we wanted to write an “In Memorium” article for the magazine. They responded with the following (which included the image near the beginning of this article):

When Artim first came to us, he had been in two previous foster homes, having entered the foster care system at age 11 following years of hideous abuse by his father. His mother's parental rights were taken away when it was proved that she not only failed to report the abuse, but facilitated it. Barely 80 pounds at the time and non-verbal for most of his time in the foster care system, Artim was considered not adoptable. That was before he came to live with us just a little less than two years ago. We have cared for special needs kids before, but none like Artim, who had no diagnosed disabilities other than extreme childhood trauma and obvious malnourishment. He was tiny for a thirteen-year-old boy. Not yet even five feet tall, Artim was frail, shy, and locked inside himself. It was two months before he spoke a word. He said, "Thank you" after supper one evening, and his foster mom and I wept and held him close. That was the beginning of 18 months of raising a scared, timid middle school kid to a dual-enrolled high school sophomore with talents we only began to discover together: He wrote music. He learned to play the violin. Despite his small size and delicate build, he played baseball with phenomenal skill and speed, making the Little League all-star team for his age group. He also wrote brilliant essays, including one that got published last month in a Linux magazine. His interest in that worried us at first, because at the time we were trying to draw him out of his room and into interacting with others, but it was something he enjoyed. It continued to bloom even during his other triumphs in music and baseball.

Artim's doctors and I are convinced that Artim is one of thousands of young boys who were severely injured by the mRNA Covid-19 vaccinations, which were mandatory for him to continue in foster care, in school, and to qualify for an audition to the community orchestra. Little did we imagine what this experimental "vaccine" would leave in its aftermath. Not just for Artim, but for thousands of other young men and women. All these mandates for a virus that presented practically no danger to children at all, and with a 95+% survival rate for all ages. Effective treatments like Ivermectin were for all intents and purposes outlawed in favor of this rushed-to-market "vaccine," school closings, masks that did nothing but hinder breathing, and savagely curtailing gatherings that presented no threat whatsoever to children. I don't mean for this to be a political message, but I am compelled to urge all of Artim's friends to reexamine their trust in government advice on health care, especially when their advice becomes mandatory and enforceable with fines, denials, and threats.

Artim did not know that we intended to adopt him this year until he was facing surgery to implant a cardiac defibrillator. We wanted him to know that he would have the "forever family" he deserved. He rallied fiercely to make that dream come true, even after we all knew that the device would buy him only a short time to become our true son, legally and permanently. His underdeveloped body just could not endure the damage done to his heart muscle, but his true heart remains strong and forever in our lives. For such a small boy, he leaves a vast legacy of mental and spiritual resilience that takes most people a lifetime to develop.

In his brief time, Artim touched the lives and hearts of the entire staff of The PCLinuxOS Magazine. Without a doubt, he was wise beyond his years. During his brief time with us, he endeared himself to all who interacted with him. He acted with poise, passion, concern, and genuine love for all of those he came into contact with.

I only wish that I had the chance to meet him in person, and that he was able to overcome this tragedy that took him from us way, way too early. He showed so much promise and potential in his short life.

You know some people for all your life, and never really “connect” with them. With others, you get to know them for only a short while, and they leave a profound effect on you. Artim was in that latter group.

Rest in peace to our dear friend, Artim. Thank you for gracing our lives with your brief life that was cut way too short.