We are saddened to hear that Tim Novoseleski died yesterday. Tim and his wife Denise saved New Mobility when the magazine was on the financial ropes in the mid 90’s. Here is a tribute, written by New Mobility founder Sam Maddox, to Tim and the fascinating “behind the scenes story” on how the Novoselkis discovered New Mobility and kept if afloat for future chapters. RIP Tim. Sam Maddox Tim Novoselski died yesterday. This was not a surprise; I knew he’d been diagnosed with a kind of road rage cancer that drives a person right off the cliff. The only question is, how long you have to enjoy the final ride. Tim Novo, as we called him, had quite a few months past the doctor’s expiration date, and I know from the online scrapbook, on Facebook, kept by Tim’s wife Denise, that the last weeks and days were filled with light and laughter, and lots of love. Tim and Deni came into my life, and the lives of my family, just shy of 20 years ago. Kate and I were in Boulder, Colorado, Max wasn’t even one yet. The second edition of the big Spinal Network book was out but the chances for its offshoot, New Mobility magazine, were not looking good. We had in effect, been supporting the magazine with Ponzi delusion, funneling ad and sales revenue for the book back into the periodical, and as these schemes usually go, the jig was about up. So, we tried a lot of things, including a plea completely ignored by Jann Wenner of Rolling Stone by way of Hunter Thompson’s son, Juan, who was working for the “Spine,” as we called this little book and magazine business. We made a list of all the angels we knew and it was a very short list. So, I sent a post card out to our mailing list – if anyone has any suggestions how we can save this thing, please be in touch. One of those postcards made it to Miramar Publications, and the Novos. They operated a very successful trade magazine business, including one for home health vendors called HomeCare, and a magazine for therapists called TeamRehab. A consumer magazine like NewMob appealed to them, or I’m thinking at least it must have to Deni. Tim was always more nuts and bolts to Deni’s touch and feel, and besides, he was busy having fun milking Miramar’s other cash cow, Rental Equipment Register, aiming at the construction rental business. He may have indulged Deni or maybe she convinced him that acquiring a disability magazine was a good idea. They had TeamRehab editor Andrea Segedy contact me. I was delighted with the interest but resisted the idea of relocating to the Los Angeles area. Andrea mentioned, though, that the Novos were moving Miramar to Malibu the following summer, and I sort of warmed to the notion of an alliance. But right about then, though, Mother Nature put a hold on things. In November 1993 one of the worst fires ever in the Santa Monicas consumed thousands of acres of beautiful Malibu canyonland, and almost 300 homes. One of those homes belonged to the Novos. I recall Tim saying he was flying home from a business trip and literally saw his house on fire. They lost everything – at least everything physical. They still had each other, their families, friends, and their company. They bought new clothes and moved on. In December Denise began discussing New Mobility again, and plans were forming to bring me out to LA. A couple of weeks later, early January 1994, the Northridge earthquake threw another wrench into those plans. LA itself wasn’t torn up too badly, though there hasn’t been a quake even close to this one since, but getting around with the freeways flattened made it a good idea to stay away. I did eventually make it to LA in February. I guess you could say it was an alliance forged in fire and earth; the Novos and I ironed out some terms and they became the owners of New Mobility and Spinal Network. I came along with deal, with the family, as did Jean Dobbs, New Mobility’s managing editor and my former intern at the University of Colorado School of Journalism, who to this day is the beating heart of New Mobility, now from her home in North Carolina. Once we were set up in Malibu, I had a tiny little office that overlooked the parking lot. Tim and Deni had offices on the other side, with a sweet view of the Pacific. Tim would arrive in his SL500 – just a five-minute drive from the beach house the Novos lived in for two or three years until rebuilding a spectacular new house back up in the Malibu hills. Unless he was escorting Deni, Tim never just walked. He had a hot-foot stride from car to office, eager and focused. He left oversight of their new magazine to the wife but every once in a while he’d pop in to my little space, always with a knock knock, “heeeeeeey,” a double finger pop, index fingers in the air like little six guns, blue eyes atwinkle. In recent weeks Deni and others have shared many stories about Tim, and many photos from back in the day. When I knew him he seemed to appreciate the sharp crease in a pair of khakis and the cut of an Armani suit. But this was the businessman period; before that he was a genuine California hairbag with a Charles Darwin beard who ran off and joined the circus. Later, in Idaho, Tim was the Ralph Lauren gentleman rancher type, tending to his Idaho estate, his beloved wife, and his beloved dogs. Here’s a little inside info: I never made any money from New Mobility, and neither did the Novos. But they pumped life into it, pouring good money after bad into a full color redesign; they upped the frequency to monthly, professionalized the business side and allowed me to hire Barry Corbet to set it on course toward its stature today as an iconic cultural touchstone in the global disability community. If you’re fond of the magazine, now you know who gets the save. I certainly would not be where I am today, and I mean that in the best of ways, if Tim and Denise hadn’t dropped that lifeline. I don’t know if I ever told them thanks. But I am very grateful to the Novoselskis and I appreciate Denise for sharing Tim’s final weeks so publicly, with such grace and heart. Heeeey back at you, Tim. Rest in peace. by Sam Maddox
Posted on: Fri, 16 Aug 2013 18:31:49 +0000