Just got my high school alumni magazine and was looking to see if anyone from my grandfather’s class passed away (morbid, I know), and saw that a guy from the class behind mine died in an avalanche with his son in March.

I barely knew him, but he was in my Zen Buddhism class and I remembered him so well because he was crazy smart but just didn’t get it - the whole concept of Zen just didn’t sit well with him. It was so persistent that when I TAed a religion class in college and had to write a paper musing on pedagogy, I used him as the intro example and even named the paper after him.

He was 33. For Christ’s sake. And his son was 11. Fuck.