A passing

This is very difficult to write.

A good friend's death is hard to put into words, especially in a space as weightless as a blog. And because of the vanity that goes along with any writing, it can feel like you are doing something wrong by writing at all. This touching tribute to Chris Ewell by a mutual friend changed my mind. I hope you will have time to read it.

There was also an obituary that ran in The Sun, the newspaper where Chris and I worked together.

Observation: When a journalist dies, as opposed to anyone in any other profession that toils in near-obscurity, there is an unusually large amount of words put into print about it. That does not mean that the world of journalism is self-absorbed. The heartbreak is just as real.

Christian Ewell, center, with close friends.

Too much sadness

A classmate of mine, Peter Odebjer, died yesterday in a motorcycle accident. He was 32 and from Sweden, a guy who was literally always on the go. Did things like fly airplanes, run marathons, drink like a fish, work with Doctors Without Borders in Darfur, and make other people feel good about themselves. I was fortunate to get to know him better in the past year, especially during a spring break trip to Japan. I had been very much looking forward to continuing the friendship.