Pete has let me know the sad, sad news about Mike. I am so terribly sorry. Mike was an important part of my past – but he was your present. And I can only imagine what this loss must feel like for you. There are never the right words.

 

When I think about the past, I have such warm memories of Mike in grade school and high school. I remember North Avondale School and a friendly rivalry. He’d get a point or two more on one test and I’d get a point or two more on another. (Of course, he may never have felt the rivalry, but I remember I did.) As we moved to Walnut Hills, he and I sat next to each other in many classes. I’m not sure why – “S” and “W” aren’t that close in the alphabet. But I remember Mike sitting next to me and us talking away; I hope it was not during class. We were part of the same boy-girl group and sometimes we dated. Upon occasion, we were a couple. It seemed to me that it was always easy being with Mike. We came together easily and if and when we “broke up,” it was never with hard feelings. I remember the summer my mother died. Mike was out of town for the funeral, but he came over to visit me as soon as he got back. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember vividly the feeling that he had done something incredibly grown up, paying a sympathy call all by himself, and I remember being very touched and comforted by that visit. And I was profoundly moved, twelve years or so ago, when my son and I visited you two on our “college tour,” Mike talked about the impact that my mother’s death had had on him. I don’t think I realized until that moment that my friends were also shaken by that event. For many of them, as for me, it was our first real experience of morality. And then – I remember so well some cookouts we had at his parents’ place and how Mike was the first one of us to bridge the social color lines that were still very rigid in late 1950’s Cincinnati. I remember Danny Cox singing Civil Rights movement songs at one of Mike’s parties – and I think that was one of the first times that I felt identified with the movement and understood it. And it was Mike and his incredible integrity (though we didn’t call it that then) and real bravery (for late 1950’s Cincinnati) that made that happen. Then, he skipped senior year and left to go to MIT early and left a gap in our high school group – as he leaves an even greater gap in your lives now. I wish we had stayed in touch more. Don’t we always wish such things? I am glad we had that lovely afternoon with you a decade or so ago. It was special to meet Mike again, grown up, and to meet you. I left the visit feeling very close to both of you. 

 

So I will remember him as incredibly bright, warm, and ethical – and I am sad that he is not in the world any more. The world can’t afford the loss of people like Mike.

 

Please feel free to read these thoughts at the memorial celebration if you wish.

 

Again, my sympathy and thoughts are with you.