I knew Gene in the late 1960s through the mid 1970s. So he and I were out of touch for a long, long time. I found out a year or so ago that Gene had died, and read the tributes on this site. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I had to try to figure out if I had the right Gene Little. Gene was a very nice guy, and a friend, but I knew him when we were both in our early-to-mid twenties, and having lost track of him, was surprised to see how the flight path I knew became the life all of these friends so kindly reference.
I can best describe Gene back then as an amalgam of Sheldon Cooper and your typical hippy. He was gifted both analytically and creatively with Mathematics. It came easy to him. He would have been an insightful statistician, but saw that sort of practical application of math as boring and pedestrian. Now when I knew him, Gene had a lot of lingering anxieties that he worked hard to come to terms with. But if he saw someone of lesser means, or that somehow was struggling, Gene was always kind to that person. That separated him from most people in their early twenties. He rebelled against injustice on that personal level. (The reverse was also true. You dissed Gene at your peril. He would verbally skewer those that did, to their faces).
He drove a Ford Maverick at the time (that he nick-named The Rolling Douchebag). He dressed out of his clean laundry basket, and as the week progressed, his clothes were more and more wrinkled as he got to the bottom of the basket. He could be very kind to people, but hid it behind some degree of sarcasm, always. He was extremely loyal to friends and those that he admired.
I would say he cussed like a sailor, but actually it's more accurate to say that sailors aspired to cuss like him. He could probably have gotten a part-time job at the Naval Air Station in Meridian, MS tutoring sailors on their cussing skills.
Gene liked to tell jokes. Long, narrative jokes. He wasn't good at it -- he would sort of rush to tell the joke, and before anyone could react, immediately start explaining why the joke was funny, and how poorly he told it. The actual experience of hearing him do this was always funnier than the joke.
We both happened to move to Atlanta to finish up college. We saw each other less frequently. Probably drifted apart when it turned out that his (then) wife and mine did not like each other. Turned out they didn't like us either! I did much better the second time around, and it sounds very much like Gene did too.
I shared the fact of his passing with a mutual friend, Eddie Donald. Eddie and I both regret never getting back in touch with Gene. He was a funny guy to be around, and it appears he remained very kind and generous, but without the sarcasm that he used to use to mask his feelings. As I wrap this up, I can imagine Gene's reaction if he were here to read over my shoulder. He would have laughed, I think, and said something like, 'well, you're a douche. Just like the Maverick".