I was lucky enough to have the chance to send Jon an email a month ago telling him how much he meant to me.  I was even luckier that he was able to read it and respond to it.    

Like all of us, I can't explain how thankful I am to have known Jon.  By sheer happenstance, we ended up bunking together our freshman year at KU, and within a matter of weeks, he was corrupting my studies by enticing me to play Bill Walsh College Football rather than focus on schoolwork.  Who needs calculus anyway?  From that early bond grew a tremendous friendship.

Through college, I probably spent as much time at Jon's apartment as I did at my own place.  We road tripped to countless football games in school and even after, at least until Jon became a world traveler.  I even got to visit him (and meet Christina) in Istanbul, which still remains one of the best trips I've ever taken.  Even then, I had hoped that maybe there would be other trips to amazing places, possibly with our families in tow, and while I'm sad that will never happen, I will always have the Istanbul trip to remember and cherish. 

While we didn't get to see each other as often once he moved to Florida, the friendship never waned.  I still got to see Jon in Vegas for my bachelor party, and we met up in Memphis last December for the KU bowl game.  I feared it might be the last time I saw him in person, but I was still hopeful that maybe the treatments would turn things around.  Being the last time I got to see him, I couldn't have imagined a more appropriate and enjoyable experience with him. 

Like everyone else who's posted here, my life will be emptier and less enjoyable without having Jon in it.  You will be greatly, greatly missed, my friend.  Rest easy.  And Christina, Sofya, Rex, Denise, Mark, and Amanda, know that we mourn with you.

I "played" guitar for years.  Jon's unabashed disappointment in seeing the dust or realizing my guitar likely hadn't been played since his last visit was always good for a laugh!

When he would pick it up to play, it was like a brand new instrument.  I could play every day for years and never find the ease he had.

Jon was the most influential mentor I have ever had.

As Marcus’ best friend in high school, he was often over to practice music in the basement, play Madden or Mortal Kombat on the Super Nintendo, or work the fields and horses as time permitted and finances required. Being the dorky younger brother, I made a nuisance of myself often, yet Jon always showed great patience with me.

He introduced me to the world of British humour, specifically the works of Monty Python. Through his and my brother’s guidance, I gained an appreciation for both Metal and Classical music. I’d been required for years to take piano lessons, and took up cello when I had the opportunity, but Jon’s rudimentary and initial instruction in guitar finally helped me realize what a musical instrument was capable of. His guidance transformed a chore into a creative outlet that I’d spend hours every day both perfecting and relieving the stresses of being a teenager.

Jon’s grasp of, and ability to teach, anything math-related was unlike anything I’d ever seen before or since. Duke University tasked me with taking the ACT in seventh grade, but I’d only barely heard of trigonometry. Jon’s diligent (and again, patient) tutelage over a couple of months not only exceeded the test’s rubrics, but allowed me to pass AP Trig my senior year with flying colors while literally drawing comics instead of taking notes.

His effortless ability to find the bright side in any situation stayed with me through various relocations and difficult times throughout my life. His laid-back approach to the inane, yet inane approach to the absurd reinforced the importance of which fights were merely spectacles and which battles must, absolutely, be fought at all costs.

He was a warrior-scientist. And there have never been, nor will ever be, any like him.

One time, Jon and I took a road trip from KC to Colorado Springs and the mountains started to come into view as we drove. I pointed to one and said, "I wonder how far away that is?"

Jon deadpan replied, "To answer that question, we first have to know the brightness of the mountain."

(This is hilarious if you know anything about astronomy, I promise.)