Jeff entered the Louisville Ironman Competition in 2012. Jeff was driving himself up from Florida, while I was nervously waiting for him to show up in time for a required 5 pm sign-in. then, I got his call: “Mom, I’m almost there. I’m still on I-65 but I have a flat and I don’t have a jack in the car. No one here at a convenience store gas station can help me.” My husband and I rush out to go get him and luckily we pulled up in front of the hotel staging the Ironman Event at 4:59pm!

Early the next morning was his only chance to get into the Ohio River where the swim portion was to be held the following day. So, while he focused on his Ironman prep, my husband and I looked around and found the only tire store in Louisville that could give him a replacement tire. This “Thank You” he sent me the following week with a beautiful bouquet of flowers refers to that pre- race critical event.

Jeff did extremely well among his age-group peers in that race. But, more important, later that year, he’d learn his time gave him a ranked position to qualify for the 2013 Ironman World Championship in Kona, Hawaii. However, he could lose that ranking at anytime by others also vying for an invitation to Kona. He worked on where he could drop time (bought a better bike) but alas he was never able to improve his time and lost his ranked position. It was always his dream to make Worlds and I so much wanted that for him. 

It probably wasn’t all that exciting as a senior in high school to gain a step sister who was in 5th grade, but Jeff was always nice to me anyway and I really looked up to him. 

I remember going to watch Jeff march with the Cavaliers, and in that moment I decided I needed to be in band too. I played in school for a few years (never at his level!) and was always in awe of his talent with so many different instruments, and in so glad he inspired me.

As we both grew up, I think we started finding similar traits in one another and I’m grateful for the bond we shared. 

There were a couple of times when he came to visit that we would make it a mission to find him the best Philly cheesesteak since he had been missing the real thing. I felt really proud to get Jeff’s stamp of approval if we found him the right one.

Sending love to everyone who will miss him- he has been surrounded by such a wonderful community and I’m certain he will not be forgotten ❤️

Tonight, looking up at the stars and thinking of Jeff. How we’d stand in my driveway or a parking lot, or on the edge of the woods and just look up, and he’d name the stars. He could always tell what was a star or a planet or a satellite. Which constellation was which. Which star was which. His eyesight was terrible but he could always see the stars and he’d point from behind my shoulder and say “the one that’s twinkling” or “the red one” and I’d squint because I’m near sighted and try to see what he saw. I had to come in and look up the ending of Silent Sky to find the words.

“I look up. In perfect silence. And I know that distance is only space and time. And for some of us, light. I am out of time, but light has never let me down.”

His heaven was the void full of stars. And I will never see their light without feeling close to him again. 

There were many things I love about Jeff. My favorite is that he would send me pictures of the moon or if he knew I was awake tell  me to go outside and look at the moon.

He also knew how to use Excel and knew how to use mail merge. Every single bit of him made me smile.

Just remembering a performance of Silent Sky, when we had a large number of young teens in the audience from a local school. The girls all decided that Jeff had 'rizz'. Partly embarrassed, partly confused, he took it in stride (and we old folks had to Google if that was a good or bad thing).

His talent was immense on all fronts, and the efforts given were always 100% regardless of what he was doing. Honest, earnest, and kind. I will miss you, my friend. I hope your rizz is shining on.

I’ve had the privilege of knowing Jeff since our high school days. We first met online—likely through AOL, back in the late 1990s when that was the thing to do. Though our friendship was primarily virtual and naturally ebbed and flowed over the past 25+ years, I had the immense joy of meeting him in person in December 2004. We shared dinner at Carraba’s and then saw Phantom of the Opera at the Concord Mills AMC Theatre.

Just this past Tuesday, before his passing, I found myself reminiscing with Jeff about that evening. I’m grateful I was able to tell him how meaningful that memory still is for me, and how Phantom of the Opera has, ever since, reminded me of him. His daily presence—even if only through SnapChat—is deeply missed.

I’m still unable to find the words to express how I feel, but you left me with words to comfort me when you moved away. 

“Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory.”

I’ll cling to these words now and forever. 

I love you. I miss you, and the echoes of our friendship will forever be dear to me.