Kevin Umé - The Dream That Continued to Live
Some dreams do not disappear when a project stops. They continue to exist somewhere. In drawings. In computer files. In memories. And above all, in the people who believed in them. The dream Marco wanted to realize through his software was one of those. In 2003, we tried to bring Piramedia back to life. It was a period of renewed hope. New people joined us. New ideas were given a chance.
One of the young people who began working with Marco then was Kevin Umé. Kevin had only just completed his studies. He was calm. Modest. And extraordinarily talented. He was not someone who constantly put himself forward. His work spoke for him. Marco noticed his talent almost immediately. He knew how rare it was to meet someone who could not only work with technology, but who also understood the possibilities it contained.
Together with Marco and several other software developers, Kevin worked on two-dimensional and three- dimensional programs for the construction industry, and more specifically for the world of ceramic tiles. The objective was ambitious. Projects that many people found difficult to imagine had to become visible and understandable in advance on a computer screen. What until then had mainly been presented through drawings, samples, and extensive explanations could be shown in a new way thanks to the software.
My role lay mainly in the world of tiles. I knew the manufacturers. The dealers. The customers. The international market. Marco saw how technology could transform that world. And Kevin possessed the talent needed to turn ideas, step by step, into functioning programs. Each of us contributed a different part of the dream. That was precisely our strength. Marco and Kevin understood each other well. They spoke the language of computers and new technology.
A language whose every technical detail I may not have understood, but whose possibilities I could certainly see. I saw their enthusiasm. Their concentration. Their desire to create something that did not yet exist. And I believed in them. But as in so many innovative projects, a good idea alone was not enough to secure its future. Around 2006, further development of the software stopped. Our collaboration ended.
Each person continued on his own path. But the program never left my thoughts. To Marco, it remained a dream that had not yet been fully completed. To me, it remained a page that had not been completely turned. When Marco died in 2009, that unfinished dream suddenly took on an entirely different meaning. It was no longer only a commercial or technological project. It was part of what he had left behind. So many of his ideas... so many hours of work... so much hope... still lived within that program. At that time, I could hardly accept that all of it might simply be lost. That is why I contacted Kevin again. I asked whether he would be willing, together with a few friends, to try to complete Marco's program after all. Kevin accepted the challenge.
To me, that represented far more than simple technical assistance. I felt it was a mark of respect for Marco. And an attempt to bring to completion something on which he had worked so intensely. Kevin and his friends resumed work on the program. They examined what still had to be completed. They searched for solutions to the unresolved technical problems. And ultimately, they succeeded in completing the program technically.
I want to state this very clearly. Kevin did what I had asked him to do. The project did not stop because he had failed. Quite the opposite. He proved that Marco's idea was technically feasible. But at that time, I myself was no longer the man I had once been.
After decades in the world of tiles... after all the setbacks... after the endless struggle to keep beginning again... and above all, after losing Marco... my strength was exhausted. I felt completely drained by the industry in which I had worked for so long. To truly bring the program to market, I would have had to rebuild an entire network. Convince people again. Seek new investment. Begin once more from the start.
I no longer had the strength for that. So in the end, I decided to stop the project permanently and retire. The program was technically complete. But commercially, there was no new beginning. Kevin was not responsible for that. It was my decision. A decision born from everything I had lived through during those years.
For a long time, I thought a dream had meaning only when it became a thriving company or a product used everywhere. Today, I no longer believe that. Not every dream reaches the destination we imagined for it. But that does not mean all the effort was in vain. Kevin ensured that Marco's program did not remain an unfinished attempt. He helped transform an idea into a technically operational result.
Even though I later decided not to continue, that work retained its value. When I think about Kevin today, I first see the calm, modest young man who came to work with us in 2003. A young man who, at the time, probably could not yet imagine the place he would hold in our story.
But I also see the colleague to whom I was able to turn again after Marco's death. Someone willing to return to an unfinished program and give it one final chance. Kevin could not replace Marco. No one ever could. But he helped me carry part of Marco's dream a little further.
That is why Kevin deserves a place in this book. Not as a footnote. Not only as a talented programmer. But as someone who first worked beside Marco and who later stood beside me in our attempt to complete an unfinished dream after all. Some dreams continue to live in the form of a company. Others as an invention. And still others live in the people who were willing to continue believing in them. Marco's dream did not have the future we had hoped for.
But thanks to Kevin, neither was it simply lost. He gave it one final chance. And I will always remain grateful to him for that.
