Our whole family has such wonderful memories of Zach! We felt so lucky when as a Penn student, he responded to my ad for someone to hang out after school with my son Reed, who was then in middle school. –There was a lot that Reed was struggling with back then. He had been in a terrific autistic support program in elementary school with teachers and assistants who made sure he was comfortable in his mainstream classes and connected with other kids at recess and lunch and activities like the school play. But middle school was a different story. The homework was very hard and he felt very isolated in autistic support classes that didn’t support interactions with mainstream kids.

In that difficult time Zach was a life-saver. He was relaxed, comfortable, funny and friendly. He was great at helping Reed with his homework and also developed a strong relationship with Reed’s tutor, Ginny Karabell. He enjoyed going to Wolf PAC’s drama classes with Reed –and was texting Reed just last year about how much he loved that Reed has reconnected with their teacher in those classes, Gabriel Nathan. Zach also took real pleasure from Reed’s passion for watching and discussing movies and shows: the Wire, Avatar, Watchmen, Thank You for Smoking, Hot Rod and many more.

After Zach graduated from Penn, he continued to hang out with Reed from time to time. They went to the shore, to the movies, played video games and mini-golf together. He taught Reed how to canoe. After Zach moved away, they continued to enjoy texting each other during Reed’s own years in college and grad school in a documentary film making program. Zach was always interested in what Reed was up to, always supportive, always ready to exchange texts about topics like Grand Theft Auto, Red Dead Redemption, poker games in the Sopranos and memories of fun things they had done together.

I myself really enjoyed talking with Zach about many topics. It was always fun to hear him casually mention some philosopher (my memory is that Peter Singer was one), whom he had emailed because he was struck by, or wanted to argue with their theory of ethics, or philanthropy, or whatever topic he was engaged with at the time. I also loved to hear about what he was reading. There was a long stretch, I remember, of Thomas Hardy, whom he enjoyed far more than I had.

In some of our conversations, I did my best to argue with Zach’s grim view of materialism as a force that will inevitably doom the planet. Given how attracted he was to the fatalism of deep ecologists, I was all the more impressed by how hard Zach worked to find effective ways of addressing the environmental, economic and political issues that so concerned him. I remember his huge investment of time and energy in a citizen action campaign. And the hopefulness with which he enrolled in a master’s program that promised engagement with global strategies for critical problem solving. I also had to agree, however, with the critiques he developed of both these approaches to changing the world. Despite his serious efforts to do so, Zach ultimately could not find either organizing or academic approaches that made sense to him in addressing the great problems of our times.

He, therefore, ended up deciding to support himself with his terrific tutoring and poker skills (in what as he wryly pointed out were often smoke-filled rooms) in ways that left him time to think and read and enjoy his friends, passions, and the natural world. As I’ve thought about Zach’s choices over the years, I have always felt a lot of respect for his decision to earn a living in ways that allowed him to spend more of his time on activities he loved than would have been the case with the more prestigious career tracks pursued by most Penn students. At the same time, however, I can’t help thinking that the fact that this incredibly thoughtful, talented young man could not find work that allowed him to address his broader interests in a more compelling way represents a serious indictment of the leadership, goals and values that dominate most of our institutions.

Zach himself, however, never projected the bitterness and anger you might expect from someone who lived with such a sense of despair for the earth’s future. When he spoke to his concerns about the fate of the planet, it was with an almost apologetic, sometimes even gently humorous, if steely regret. What I heard from him the most was his concern for those he loved, together with the many pleasures he enjoyed: his affection and respect for his family and friends; his love of reading, music, tennis, Frisbee, hiking, all the different activities and places in the wider world that he delighted in. I can’t help but think that all of us who loved Zach are blessed to have known someone who at the same time that he wrestled with so much, also lived and loved us with such a sense of grace.