I met Chris Kim in September, 2005 in Boston.
A tiny Korean guy with thin eyes hidden behind thick glasses under a well-worn and faded ball cap, he looked kind of mousy under awkwardly baggy clothes and behind a soft voice. And even though neither of us drank much, we met at a bar — me speed-sucking a gin and tonic through a needle-thin straw, him warming a well-nursed beer and occasionally taking baby sips.
When he mentioned he was from Boston, I asked about the Red Sox and he played along well enough. “Big win last night,” he offered cautiously. “Maybe still have a chance at the playoffs?” Of course, that launched me on a rant about the bullpen and whether Curt Shilling had enough steam for another big run. He nodded on, listening intently, asking genuine and serious questions, and letting our friendship take root over sports, of all things. Of course, he never watched the stuff, but was nice enough to let me talk mindlessly about it all night.
Full of wry smiles, awkward pauses, and mock-serious faces, Chris was a complex, fascinating, creative person who grew into a remarkably close friend during the two years I lived in the US. He got excited about little things, like caramelizing onions perfectly for an hour on low heat, getting randomly selected to fill out a survey of his radio habits, or learning a new keyboard shortcut in Microsoft Excel.
But it wasn’t the bar scene that helped our friendship bloom. It was the car scene.
Yeah, when I showed up to school on our first winter morning shivering to the bone in a flimsy nylon coat, my hair wet, my face dripping, Chris asked where I lived and if I needed a ride the next day. As I was at that moment toweling my face off with a fistful of balled up Kleenex, I took him up on it right away. (Lucky for me Chris had signed up to be a senior student in an undergrad residence way off campus, spending his free time for two years chaperoning social events, holding heads above toilets, and editing two or three resumes a night on a steady clip.)
Anyway, he began picking me up every morning for the next two years, probably at least a couple hundred rides, never once accepting money for gas because, as he said, “I’m going that way anyway.” When other students heard about my taxi service, they got in on it, too. It started with a “Hey Chris, if there’s a blizzard tomorrow, can I catch a lift?”, and turned into Chris emailing three or four of us each night, giving us the Bus Schedule, as he called it, timed precisely to the minute for the next morning. And so it went — us piling into his car after he’d spent the first few minutes warming it up for us, tightly blanketed in fat mittens and his trademark big blue hat.
Two years later, in Spring, 2007, Chris and I went on a three week roadtrip with our friend Ty, which I’ve mentioned before here and here. Not too long after the trip began, we started joking about how much Chris was text-messaging his friends. It was non-stop, how in touch he was constantly with people. “Jake says hi,” he’d deadpan, his back facing the Grand Canyon, surrounded by people all looking the other way. Eventually, he made a joke of it, letting us take photos of him obliviously focused on his cell phone in front of every big site we stopped at. He absolutely loved the gag and laughed wildly before and after each photo.
Last year I nervously started up this page, tentatively dipping my toe into cyberspace where anyone could see. Chris of course adopted his Mexican half-brother pseudonym San Carlos and peppered us with comments of support from the get-go. On #1000 Broccoflower, he wrote “My policy is to avoid all foods that look to be from outer space. Eggplant. Mushrooms. And, apparently, broccoflower.” On #885 Paying for something with exact change he wrote “I save all my pennies in my car. And then, the next time I do McDonald’s drive-through, I fling all the pennies into the server’s face. … No, actually, I put the pennies into the Ronald McDonald’s House box right underneath the window.” On #859 Playing with a baby and not having to change its diaper he wrote “I don’t mind changing my nephews diapers. It only got weird when they began to talk. Awkward!”
I loved his sense of humor and his way about himself. I loved how he laughed, frequently, at little things, and got so excited about tiny details most people overlooked. Chris and I spoke three or four times a week over the past year, in ten or fifteen minute snippets usually, but sometimes for an hour or two. He’d tell me about the sourdough bread he was going to bake that day, the elaborate meal he had planned for friends coming for dinner, or the New York Times article he read that I should check out. I would ask him for ideas for this page — he had plenty — and occasionally go on long rants about sports.
Chris died suddenly this past week. He was 32.
No amount of the usual closing rhyming couplets or fist-to-the-sky proclamations are going to bring him back. But I know he’s in a peaceful place and would want us all to just be happy, keep plugging, and enjoy our lives as full as we can. So thank you, Chris. You’ll always inspire me.
And you’ll always be so incredibly awesome.
140 Comments
February 16, 2009 at 12:35 am
What a really nice tribute to your friend. Sounds like we all missed out.
February 16, 2009 at 12:37 am
I’ve been reading this blog a while and enjoying it, but never commented. This post, though, brought a lump to my throat and I just had to say something. Kudos on such a well-written tribute to an obviously dear friend, and I’m very sorry to hear that he’s gone.
February 16, 2009 at 12:39 am
That was touching.
And awesome.
February 16, 2009 at 1:22 am
what a wonderful tribute to your friend. i’ve been reading your blog for a while now, though i’ve never felt compelled like this to comment. i’m very sorry for your loss but am glad you are able to celebrate his life and your good memories. Awesome.
February 16, 2009 at 1:22 am
So I love this website. I have it bookmarked and come at least once a day and hope desperately for an update.
Especially when I can smile and relate to the topic at hand. And this one I relate to and it is making me cry just thinking of my friend that is gone.
I’m so sorry that Chris is no longer here to talk to you but I’m so sorry I never met him. He sounds like an amazing guy
February 16, 2009 at 1:25 am
I’m with Dave on this one. I am a constant reader of this blog but never felt the need to comment. I had tears in my eyes at the end of reading this post. It’s beautiful. And awesome.
February 16, 2009 at 1:42 am
That was wonderfully put. He sounds like an awesome guy. Hope his family, you and your family are all taking care.
February 16, 2009 at 1:51 am
Sometimes I don’t read the really long posts, but this one had me captivated. Awesome.
February 16, 2009 at 2:04 am
I too had a lump in my throat while reading. It sounds like Chris was indeed Awesome, and you have given him a wonderful tribute.
February 16, 2009 at 2:17 am
:) & I’m thankful that I added this to my Google Reader. This post secures the permanent spot. Funny yet heartwarming at the same time. Tough combo.
I too, have been an avid reader, and this site has created many laughs and snickers at the awesome things that you & many others have experienced. Thanks.
February 16, 2009 at 2:30 am
A beautiful tribute… thanks for sharing with us…
February 16, 2009 at 2:42 am
Chris, we never actually met. I hear I missed you by a hair anytime I visited Boston. I heard so much about you over the years that I always felt like we had met. I’m deeply saddened that you’re gone. I feel a great loss in your passing.
February 16, 2009 at 3:32 am
i have been reading your website for a long time and i basically want to give you a hug for the vast majority of your entries. This one is no exception. A wonderful tribute to a wonderful person. Your outlook on life (and obviously Chris’ as well, since you guys seem to share a love for the inexplicably happy details others seem to gloss over) is refreshing, inspiring, and …..awesome.
rock on, friend.
February 16, 2009 at 4:17 am
I had a friend much like this. We grew up together, i was in the room when he was born 6 days after i was. We basicaly shared faimlys, always went to the same school. He liked acustic guitar, loved chicken nuggets and always had a game boy on him. he got hit by a car several months ago, for a while remembering hurt, but after some more time passed it slowely changed to a warm feeling that you get when you remember a good person
February 16, 2009 at 4:24 am
Great tribute. Not expecting that end of the story while I was reading it. I enjoy the post because I’m a lover of small details too. Enjoy life and feel happy for everything you can. Life will be better.
February 16, 2009 at 4:40 am
Your tribute to your friend truly touched me. I am so sorry for your loss. Chris sounds totally awesome! Thank you for sharing this tribute with us.
February 16, 2009 at 5:03 am
Reading this over breakfast, I wasn’t expecting that ending at all. Still, an incredibly touching post, and a good example of just what this medium can do.
To Chris.
*Raises mug of tea in quiet respect*
February 16, 2009 at 5:33 am
Awesome.
February 16, 2009 at 5:38 am
I’m so sorry about Chris…
I’m pretty sure if you need some time off, the lot of us will understand. He sounds like an awesome guy to have met.
February 16, 2009 at 5:50 am
A beautiful tribute to your friend… thanks for sharing …
February 16, 2009 at 5:52 am
Friends like that come once in a lifetime, if ever. Cherish the memories forever.
February 16, 2009 at 7:03 am
We are all smiling for a friend that we didn’t even know. Beautiful post.
February 16, 2009 at 7:30 am
And hearing about peoples’ awesome friends is awesome too.
November 18, 2009 at 12:15 am
I agree with this comment.
February 16, 2009 at 8:12 am
Like many others commenting on this one, i have been reading it for a long time, quickly becoming my favourite website, but i never felt like i needed to write a comment as what i would have written you’ve already said, but i do feel obliged to say this was a beautiful tribute, and he sounds like an excellent human being.
February 16, 2009 at 8:40 am
Beautiful. Thank you for giving me a moment to think of my lost loved ones.
February 16, 2009 at 8:57 am
I’ve only commented a few times before, I read daily. This was a very fitting tribute, celebrating your relationship. I think we all need to step back and remember the good times of friends gone before their times.
February 16, 2009 at 9:06 am
Awesome tribute. Chris would have been proud
February 16, 2009 at 9:48 am
It’s the ordinary person in life that make the biggest impact on others.
Not the politicians or celebrities.
People like Chris that make life a little more bearable.
Sorry, you lost a great friend and person.
February 16, 2009 at 9:58 am
i’m sorry for your loss. but this an amazingly touching tribute.
i’m going to go ahead and think about a few friends i have lost today and smile.
February 16, 2009 at 9:58 am
He sounds not only like a good friend, but a great human being. Not many people take the time to religiously shuttle people around or freely edit resumes. The world is a little bit dimmer without such a compasionate person. I’m sorry for the loss…. who knows how many other lives he could have touched.
February 16, 2009 at 10:53 am
Awesome can’t describe this post well enough. You truly captured all that is good about Chris.
We have been watching your blog and weren’t sure if you would mention Chris’ death. It really felt good to hear your thoughts – thanks for reminding us of the good times and that crazy blue hat!
February 16, 2009 at 11:05 am
i was going to skim through this, but once i started reading it i couldnt stop
this tribute was just awesome
chris sounds like he was a fantastic person
the world will undoubtedly miss him
he seems like the person that the world needs more of–my hat goes off to him
he will be missed
may he be in eternal peace
February 16, 2009 at 11:23 am
Chris sounds truly wonderful. I am so sorry to hear of your loss and he sounds like he was a loss for the world.
Renee
February 16, 2009 at 11:26 am
What a touching tribute to a wonderful friend. I am sure that he will be missed by all that knew him.
February 16, 2009 at 11:44 am
I think we all have had a friend like Chris.
Thank’s for sharing and very well written. Love the blog and read it everyday!
February 16, 2009 at 12:00 pm
AWESOME tribute! So sorry for your loss.
February 16, 2009 at 12:25 pm
You’re absolutely right; Chris sounds like he was truly Awesome. I am sorry for your loss.
February 16, 2009 at 12:46 pm
More often than not, I read your posts and laugh. This one made me want to cry.
Your friend sounds like an incredible person! I think we all missed out by not knowing him.
February 16, 2009 at 2:06 pm
What a touching tribute to your friend – so sorry for your loss.
February 16, 2009 at 2:19 pm
You’re an awesome friend, Neil. Sorry to hear about Chris. I never met him, but you make me feel as though I did. I’m sure we would have hit it off. Those pictures in front of all the landmarks are hilarious!
February 16, 2009 at 2:24 pm
The hat, the bread, classic Chris. Thanks for sharing. He truly was awesome.
February 16, 2009 at 3:05 pm
Oh, I am so sad. What a great loss of an excellent person and friend to many. Until today, all I knew of Chris were his comments on this blog. I always enjoyed his pithy remarks, like “Spot on!” or his advice to wrap yourself in bubble wrap to keep warm. (“DO NOT POP IT!”)
I LOVE the photos of him texting in front of all the sites. Thank you so much for sharing them with us, and for your touching tribute. We are all better for it. My condolences to all who knew him. You were luckier than I.
February 16, 2009 at 3:44 pm
Yet another fan of yours who has shed a tear today after reading this entry – for the loss of your friend, Chris, and for the grief you must now being going through….just know that Chris is in a better place with another Chris, my brother. I bet they’re both looking down on all of us with love.
February 16, 2009 at 4:38 pm
Hey man,
I haven’t commented here before, like so many of the others it seems, but I read your post and it was a fine tribute to what sounded like a fantastic friend. I hope you have lots of friends around you to get you through, and keep posting those awesome things that he would approve of.
:)
February 16, 2009 at 4:57 pm
I’ve been reading your blog for a while and haven’t commented yet.
Only a few days ago I lost my Grandmother. Today, just after returning home from her funeral I turned on my computer to catch up with my favourite blogs. The comfort that your post provided was surprising. It was nice to be reminded to smile and look back on their lives with fond memories rather than dwell on the pain of our own loss. I am sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing.
February 16, 2009 at 5:08 pm
It’s reasons like this why I love this blog.
February 16, 2009 at 5:40 pm
I had a close group of friends all growing up. And my friend Mark was the most energetic and spastic kid you could imagine. He was like a little brother to me, and for all of his trouble making (everything from bringing a bucket of snakes into my mom’s kitchen to getting our group kicked out of lazer tag establishment) he never met someone he didn’t like.
As life took us all different directions we kept in touch through texting, myspace, etc. And Mark wanted to get the gang together for a pre-high school graduation hang out.
Unfortunatly Mark died in a car accident before we made it happen. And as we all had our group reunion around his graveside, we all looked at each other and knew. It was time for some lazer tag… and yes, even the cranky old owner years later asked us where “the rascal” was.
And if Mark knew that we now honor him every year with a game of lazer tag he would say, “Awesome.”
February 16, 2009 at 6:50 pm
That was a great post. Sounds like a really great guy. Sorry for your loss.
February 16, 2009 at 8:11 pm
[...] have to admit, I don’t know if this fits on this site. I don’t know why, but I love this guy’s tribute to his friend. I won’t be offended if you don’t read it… but you will feel far less cultured [...]
February 16, 2009 at 8:19 pm
I was going along, reading this, chuckling at little things, here and there. I got to the part where to tell us he dies, and literally gasped out loud.
He sounds like a great guy, it’s too bad he had to go. :[
February 16, 2009 at 8:40 pm
Beautiful memories.
February 16, 2009 at 9:32 pm
I’m very sorry for your loss. Chris must have been an amazing person. I’m glad to have had even this small glimpse into his life.
February 16, 2009 at 9:54 pm
This post made me shiver & sob.
This was an amazing and inspiring post & im sorry for your loss. The good people always leave too early =(
He sounds like a great guy, I’d love to meet someone like that in my life.
February 16, 2009 at 10:13 pm
R.I.P. Chris
February 16, 2009 at 10:21 pm
That was beautiful.
I read this blog everyday, send the entries to my friends, and I will be sure to send this one to those who make everyday of my life awesome.
Thank you for sharing. We all wish you the best, and it seems as though through your loss, we all have missed out on someone who could make this life all the more great.
I am so sorry.
February 17, 2009 at 12:18 am
Thank you for this one. This site has made me smile to myself a lot, but this article hits home. I lost a good friend a year and a half ago, also named Chris. This is the first time I’ve smiled while thinking of him in a long time. My best wishes are with you, and I’m sure your Chris would be very happy to read this.
February 17, 2009 at 1:06 am
I, like many other people, never felt compelled to comment before this post. What an amazing,unusual, beautiful tribute to your friend. It’s so, well…awesome to read about such a touching friendship on this site. Kudos to Chris for being such an amazing person, if only we were all lucky enough to know him. Rest in peace, Chris.
February 17, 2009 at 1:15 pm
Neil,
I’ve been coming to this site since a little post about the smell of gasoline (#977). Every week I look forward to what this site has to offer. I enjoy your style of writing; its openness and honesty. This post was a nice moment of reflection, and a fitting tribute to someone that made an impact on your life. I wish you all the best in your loss.
JL
R.I.P – Chris Kim
February 17, 2009 at 3:10 pm
This entry brought to my mind a dear friend from my younger days. We didn’t hang around all the time, but when we did, we did everything together for several days.
Kevin was in Phuket, Thailand when the 2004 tsunami hit. His whole family got lost in the waves, himself, sister and parents.
February 17, 2009 at 3:31 pm
What a lovely guy, and a beautiful post.
February 17, 2009 at 4:37 pm
I’m so sorry your friend passed away. Your story brought tears to my eyes. It reminded me of a friend who passed away unexpectedly five years ago this April. I read your blog but never comment, but I felt compelled to leave a note so you know those of us who don’t comment are out here enjoying your great posts!
February 17, 2009 at 6:02 pm
Sounds like an incredible person, thanks for sharing.
February 17, 2009 at 6:24 pm
Wonderful post…. thanks for writing this…
February 17, 2009 at 8:32 pm
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
This is an amazing tribute, but I hope I never live to see my friends die. This almost made me cry, it was so amazing.
Awesome tribute.
My condolences go out to you for the loss of your friend, and to Chris’s family for their loss.
February 17, 2009 at 9:04 pm
When I saw there were 64 posts on your piece about Chris, I don’t know why I assumed that there would be 64 posts from people I would know, or at least that Chris would know. Reading the blog didn’t make me cry (just smile, because it was perfectly Chris). But reading the posts did, because it meant even more to me that people who didn’t know him were so touched. Thanks to all for what amounted to a great big hug.
February 17, 2009 at 9:16 pm
Like Dave, I read and admire your blog but I’ve never posted a comment.
I have a lump in my throat and this makes me think of all the awesome people out there like Chris. People who are just good, good to the core and who impact your life.
Ugh..I’m in class. I have to go before I start to cry.
But thanks for that posting. It was incredible and truly touching.
Thanks and I’ll keep reading.
February 17, 2009 at 11:11 pm
Neil,
You always capture things so spot-on in this blog, such a way with words.
Reading this made me smile as I remember our friend Chris.
February 17, 2009 at 11:23 pm
Neil – Beautifully written and a wonderful testament to the amazing person Chris was.
Chris – We will miss you dearly. Rest in peace.
February 18, 2009 at 10:25 am
A friend of mine was killed in a car wreck the day you posted this, but I only just got round to reading it today. Aside from the quirk of timing, I very nearly just cried in the office. Really touching post, thanks.
February 18, 2009 at 12:03 pm
Neil – Sharon said I had to check out this blog and now I know why. Such a beautiful tribute to Chris – thank you!
February 18, 2009 at 12:34 pm
Neil – C. J. and I have been thinking about you! What a beautifully written tribute to Chris! He will certainly be missed. Thank you so much for putting into words what many of us have been feeling and thinking. You couldn’t have described Chris more perfectly!
February 18, 2009 at 7:52 pm
Another reader who never felt compelled to comment before–but I’ve been reading for a while now. I’m very sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. You’ve written a beautiful tribute to him, though, and for that you can be proud.
Cherish your memories.
February 18, 2009 at 9:19 pm
Hi Neil
What a beautiful post; a wonderful tribute to an awesome person. I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately. I hope, in time, your grief becomes peace.
February 19, 2009 at 10:00 am
It’s tough, to lose a person who means so much. Thanks for sharing just a small part of Chris’ life and his impact on your life. Sorry for your lose.
February 19, 2009 at 12:51 pm
Neil, thank you. I’ve been quietly trying to come to terms with the weight of all this, hoping Chris is at peace, and remembering that I probably never thanked him for being a big part of what got me through business school. You capture him perfectly. That wry smile and his endless patience with my sarcasm are fresh memories. He will be ever missed.
February 19, 2009 at 9:35 pm
I’m sorry you lost such a great friend. I’m glad that such a beautiful person had the chance to touch you and others in his brief time here. This was a lovely tribute, and makes me want to be the kind of person that is warmly remembered when it’s time to go. Thanks for sharing.
February 19, 2009 at 11:01 pm
Also, this proves that life is too short to truly guarantee we’ll live 74 years, or whatever they say now. We just can’t ensure that.
All condolences.
February 20, 2009 at 3:56 pm
I’ve always agreed that most items on this list have been awesome, but I felt compelled this time to comment. The story was so heartwarming and then the end so crushing. Chris sounds like an amazing man. Awesome.
February 20, 2009 at 7:26 pm
How sweet.
February 20, 2009 at 11:14 pm
Last year my friend Tony died. He was hit by a car while walking home from the pub. He left behind his family, his friends, his girlfriend and his baby. Hopefully they will be smiling about him now, the way you smile about Chris.
February 21, 2009 at 8:22 pm
Losing a friend is one of the worst things someone can go through in life – but what an amazing way to remember him. Inspiring man.
February 22, 2009 at 2:44 pm
God Bless.
February 22, 2009 at 11:21 pm
I can only hope that my friends will say something half as sweet as what you said about your friend. He sounds like a great person. If only we were all so lucky to have someone like that in our lives…
Consider yourself hugged.
February 23, 2009 at 3:16 pm
The father of one of my close friends died on Saturday and I was reminded of this entry. I passed this entry on to her, it’ll probably help. :)
Thanks again, Neil.
February 25, 2009 at 6:22 am
I love thinking about those things aswell. This entry reminds me of my father and the boy who I was first madly in love with who rang me up as soon as he found out about my father’s death and was on the phone to me for 8 hours most of it saying nothing but that was the best. That boy also passed away and I always love reflecting on the moments that those two really shaped my life.
Great entry.
You’re right
It’s AWESOME!
February 26, 2009 at 9:39 am
how lucky you were to have had such a beautiful person touch your life. chris seems to have reached maslow’s level of self actualization in his oh too short life.
February 26, 2009 at 4:14 pm
Thank you for sharing. I sporadically check out your AWESOME sight and was really touched by this entry. Cheers, and here’s to Chris.
February 27, 2009 at 9:39 am
My sympathies, Chris sounds like he was a fantastic guy.
March 1, 2009 at 1:00 am
I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. One of my classmates from both of my high schools passed away too soon. I have fond memories of both of them, and every time I see a gazebo, I think of Jimmy. Whenever I flip through the channels and see anything military related, I think of Phil….
March 24, 2009 at 1:18 pm
Wow… I love this site but I had not been on here in a while due to work and stuff. Great story and quite sobering. I am really sorry for your loss, he sounded like a great person. Really gives you perspective about the people in your life now who are important. When with people that are close to me, I always make a point of saying goodbye to them like it will be the last time I will see them, even if its only my wife heading out to the shops, it costs me nothing and in this life none of us know when the last time we will see someone will be, so make every time with them count.
April 21, 2009 at 7:59 am
You’re right. Good friends who have passed on are indeed a sad thing, and thinking about them are…sobering. Somehow, this entry was, and still is one of the best so far even though all my friends are still alive.
To your friend Chris,
*raise mug of coffee in admiration*
April 23, 2009 at 1:33 am
that was really nice and touching..
April 25, 2009 at 11:33 am
Thank you for making me smile on a day where I’ve had little to smile about.
Chris sound’s like an amazing guy, one of those people who’s realised that you can get thru any situation and be happy if you can still smile.
I’m sorry for your loss
April 26, 2009 at 8:17 am
I saw this site on digg today and came across this entry. Very touching and a wonderful tribute.
April 26, 2009 at 12:00 pm
Awesome post. Loved it.
April 27, 2009 at 1:00 pm
A wonderful tribute. I’m sorry for your loss but I’m glad you had the emotional strength to write this so you won’t forget him. Rest in peace, Chris.
April 28, 2009 at 7:17 am
Sounds like a great guy, this Chris… RIP. Great article, it made me tear up. :)
May 1, 2009 at 1:52 pm
One of my best friend’s father committed suicide last week and I immediately forwarded this post to her. She got a laugh out of it and I think it reminded her to think about the great times she had had with her father, not on the sorrow of losing a loved one in such a horrible way.
Thanks
May 6, 2009 at 6:06 pm
This post meant a lot to me because recently I was in my mother’s bedroom and found an opened sympathy card on the floor and read it. It was from Kathy and was sent a year after my mom’s mom’s death. Kathy wrote in the card: “I know you still miss her.”
Thank you for the beautiful tribute to Chris.
May 7, 2009 at 11:45 am
A friend just emailed me this blog and truthfully I was just scanning though….only reading the headlines. But I stopped on this post, the title touched me even before I read it. All I have to say is thank-you. Like many, I also had a good friend that suddenly passed away after much reflection I realized that it’s not the amount of time that they were in our life, it’s the quality of the time that we spent together.