Zeke and I were Dartmouth classmates and have always had a musical bond. We didn’t run in the same friend circles but always supported each other’s endeavors. I was very touched that he not only attended my senior recital but took it upon himself to help my parents set up the small reception. I had the privilege of singing Mozart arias in several of his projects in undergrad and was hoping our musical paths would cross frequently in the coming years. Zeke always welcomed me in Europe. I stayed with him for a few days in Munich, exploring the opera house, the Eisbach and Afghani cuisine. Silliness abounded. He woke up at 4am to drive me to the bus station.
The last time I saw Zeke was two summers ago in London. We had tea and cake at the V&A. His was green (I think it had peas?) mine was strawberry poppy. We then walked over to Royal Albert Hall to take a picture, and he directed me to a nearby pub that was covered in flowers, so I could watch a World Cup match.
I check to see where he in whenever I’m in Europe and it breaks my heart that he won’t be part of my adventures anymore. We had even talked briefly of going to the south to register voters this summer. Oh and knowing that I liked to rock climb, Zeke introduced me to Purple, who I am very glad to know.
I believe we can still communicate on some level with people who have died, and I will continue to do so frequently, especially when I’m in any hall in London, Germany, or on Campus. What a profound loss for us all. But I imagine the conversations he’s having with the classical greats and that makes me smile. Love to all of you.