I met Justin a little over nine years ago. It was our first day at Brown. We were neighbors in Keeney Quad. My room, like everyone else's, was in chaos, a mass of unpacked boxes, while Justin's, totally organized, looked like he had been there a month. I think I asked to borrow a pen (Justin would remember). A wonderful friendship followed. And since then there have only been a handful of weeks we've not been in touch.

It is only fitting that we say goodbye to him on the Vineyard; it was his favorite. I have such fond memories of weekends up here with the Colemans, though they weren't relaxing. Bill's fun-filled days began around 6:30am and usually involved some combination of beach time, clamming, and boating - all before noon. I recall playing volleyball one afternoon on Lucy Vincent beach. For those of you who don't know the Vineyard, one end of Lucy Vincent is clothing-optional. We were far enough down the beach that a few of the attractive female players were topless. My concentration was seriously compromised, but Justin, fine athlete that he was, looked to be playing volleyball for the first time in his life. He also may have rearranged the teams a couple of times, and I don't think he had winning in mind.

We know how Justin loved his quotations so from his large collection I'll borrow one from Raymond Fosdick that seems to fit him perfectly.

"The only life worth living is the adventurous life. Of such a life the dominant characteristic is that it is unafraid. It is unafraid of what other people think... It does not adapt either its pace or its objectives to the pace and objectives of its neighbors. It thinks its own thoughts, it reads its own books, it develops its own hobbies, and it is governed by its own conscience. The herd may graze where it pleases or stampede where it pleases, but he who lives the adventurous life will remain unafraid when he finds himself alone."

No doubt it is difficult to distill the essence of Justin to a single word, but "fearless" comes pretty close. He sure wasn't afraid of meter maids. He had a car freshman year at Brown - that wasn't allowed. And he parked that blue Volvo wherever he could fit it. I think in four years you could count on one hand the number of times he used actual, legal parking spaces. And I shudder to think of the dollar amount in parking fines he accumulating in 11 years behind the wheel. He used to say that his spots were so good that getting tickets was worth it - I suppose that's true, especially considering how rarely he ever paid them.

I remember the first college party we attended. Justin and I went together - we'd only known each other for a day or two. It was a crowded room and we were trying to make our way through when we happened upon an attractive woman who was clearly not a freshman. I just wanted to get by her unscathed. But Justin stopped, extended his hand, and coolly introduced himself, "Hi. Justin Coleman," he said. I have no idea what happened to that girl, but I'm sure Justin does. He'd made another friend.

Most importantly Justin was fearless with himself. He spent the last couple of years testing himself - physically, emotionally, spiritually - in an effort to discover who he really was. Not only was Justin confident enough to explore himself to the core, even if that meant exposing the kinds of limitations we all have, but he was entirely willing to reveal himself and include all of us on his journey. That was simply his way. He wrote introspective emails telling of his incredible mountain adventures. He compiled quotation books on various subjects and sent them out to friends. As he learned, we learned with him. Through him we better saw ourselves. What an amazing gift.

His website illustrates this beautifully. It's now more than 500 members strong, and at last check there were 300 messages posted - people sharing stories of their lives crossing paths with his. We are all the enormous circle of Justin Coleman.

He was an inspiration in so many ways and his legacy will have a profound impact on us all. We will smile inside at Justin when we find a great illegal parking spot, or buy a last-minute plane ticket. Or write a thoughtful note to a friend in need. Or discover the courage to search within without fear of what might be found or how vulnerable it might feel. Every step of the way I know that Justin will be there with his infectious grin and insatiable love of life.

I have no regrets about my friendship with Justin. I'm just sad that we won't share anymore experiences - that we won't grow old together. I'll miss the stories, the spur-of-the-moment trips, the late-night phone calls, and the thought-provoking emails from all corners of the world. I'll miss my friend. How lucky we are to have known and loved this remarkable man. How lucky we are to have been loved by him. We will never forget him.