I first met Kevin his freshman year at NYU when he joined the cross country team. From the moment I met him, he was just the brightest light. His smile would light up an entire room, you could feel his energy radiating warmth, and he was so hilarious to be around. 

He was instantly everyone’s best friend, but he also had a maturity about him. He would go out of his way to talk to the person no one was talking to, or find conversation to make people feel welcome.

We had a great time with all of our friends in New York galavanting around to bars like Cheapshots and the Patriot with our fake IDs, going to NYU basketball games, and shot-gunning beers in the bathroom together. 

Kevin was always out chasing life, he would know a friend of a friend having an open bar somewhere uptown that we would go to, or he would get tickets to some random show. He always had something going on that he wanted to experience.

Over the last few days I’ve been struggling with how to summarize Kevin as a friend into a few short paragraphs. He was the source of so many good times together. And he was such a powerhouse of a friend. 

I remember him helping me move into his six-floor walk up apartment in the East Village. I’m grabbing one box at a time and struggling up the stairs with my noodle arms, and I have to stop between the 3rd and 4th floor to take a breather. Kevin, so fit and always looking for a workout, picks up three boxes at a time and just marches them all the way up to the sixth floor, no stopping or anything. I think he had me moved in in about 20 minutes.

I remember the time he came to Chicago for my 25th birthday and spent the night dancing with all of my mom’s friends in my parents' living room. He kept doing his famous dance move where he’s on the ground and puts his shirt fully over his head and he was inevitably running into all the furniture.

Or the time we were coming home from a bar and he was trying to order two large pizzas for a late night snack. I said “Kevin, two large pizzas is too much.” He looks at me straight in the eye and responds, “you don’t know me.” And then I watched him eat two large pizzas.

But the best memories I have with Kevin, are the most mundane memories. It’s the time we spent just sitting together in our apartment watching two full seasons of the OC, or the long early morning drives through the mountains on our way to go skiing. 

And that’s because even though Kevin was always chasing adventure and living his life to the fullest, the best part about him was how he made you feel when you were around him. 

He was the most kind and genuine person I’ve ever met. 

His energy was infectious - no matter the crowd, he could turn any situation into a party with his dance moves.

Kevin would have you laughing so much that usually after we hung out my cheeks would hurt.

And he loved his family - Rich, Jayne, Richie, and Katie - so deeply. Not only would his family show up and become everyone’s family, but he would make an effort to bring his friends into his world and make them feel like family. 

Kevin, to me, felt indestructible. He was a rock in so many ways - his bright and positive attitude was unwavering, he was the friend you could always count on to show up for you, and his strength was unmatched. He was the kind of friend you only get once in a lifetime. Losing him will forever leave a hole in my heart. 

I don’t know how to continue to live my life without Kevin in it, but I do know that I feel incredibly lucky to have had him as my friend for the last thirteen years. 

And I know that if there’s anything Kevin would want, it would be for everyone here to wake up each day, spread kindness to those around you, and chase after life, the same way he did. 

And maybe eat two large pizzas along the way.

Kevin the dog whisperer - Lou refuses to sit anywhere but on his lap (she’s 65 lbs.)