I knew her briefly, and for that I am grateful. Years ago – it was my senior year of high school – I had the chance to interview her for a spot on a school-related group. Unlike a lot of the other candidates, she appeared to be laid back. They were all humorous in their own way, but she had a way with making light of a situation, not just bringing light to it.
Everyone that had the pleasure of interacting with her might say that her happiness was infectious — they would be correct. A smile here or a “Hey!” there, and a surge of energy – happiness beyond what you may have already felt – consumed you.
I was in New Mexico when it happened, probably 200 miles away. It wasn’t until the day after the incident when I actually heard about it. Like a lot of other people, I woke up and checked Facebook first thing in the morning, expecting announcements of pregnant classmates and pictures from parties – the usual things I see.
Instead, my front page was flooded with statements of utter disbelief and overwhelming sadness. After trying to figure out who had passed – and how – I came across a brief news article about a hiker that had died after falling from an outcropping.
This is nothing new to me. As a rock climber, too often do I read stories about hikers and climbers dying or being critically injured after falling from great heights…but this instance hit me differently. This person, this brilliant girl that I and so many others had known – even briefly, even for just a few months – was now the victim. It’s a different kind of shock.
I think what hit me most was the sadness of all of my friends, people that knew her better and longer than I did. Their heartbreak was the most difficult thing for me to see and read and hear.
From what I know about her, from the things that other people have said about her, she was a true beacon of light. For many – most, even – she still is. I won’t pretend to know every detail about her, and I won’t pretend that I was closer to her than I really was. A couple of months, but the impact remains.
I know that she aspired to make people happy. I know that her smile was infectious. I know that she was loved by many of my friends. I know that she was vastly creative. I know what I need to know, and I know that she is and will continue to be missed dearly by everyone that had the good fortune of being around her.
Her light – her memory and her very being – is not lost. I think it’s safe to say that those of us lucky enough to have known her will do our best to carry on her mission of making the world a better place.
Here’s to you.
The People Watcher 
Thank you for this.