Nick and I met during the fall of 1996 in the week before what was to be our freshman year at Cornell. We spent a week together riding bicycles through upstate New York during the Wilderness Reflections pre-college orientation program. Nick was, beyond a doubt, the strongest rider amongst the 10 of us that rode that week. But what I remember the most about him wasn't his physical strength - but rather, the strength of his personality. What I remember the most about Nick was the humorous stories that he told each night when we camped out… his rugged sense of self…. and his unselfishness...

The Nick I remember spent the time at night on our biking trip telling the rest of us humorous little anecdotes… While most of us talked about where we were from - and the other generic stories that post-adolescent teens will tend to tell over a camp fire late a night - Nick told us of unique stories based on his own experiences… stories about riding his bike down to Savannah, Georgia, or to Atlantic City… our about the time that he and an older friend spent the better part of a night waiting outside a girl's house - only to get asked by the police about what exactly he was trying to accomplish at that time of the night. Truth be told, I don't think that any of us on that trip ever bothered to ask Nick if he was telling us the truth - since none of us could believe that anyone could ever make up stories so unique.

I remember his kindness - his openness - and his profound sense of self. Some people spend their entire lives seeking out the meaning of what it is like to be "Normal" - but you could tell after spending a few minutes with him, that being "Normal" wasn't on the list of things that he worried about. For the 10 days that I knew him during 1996 Nick was - in the only word that I can use to describe him - Nick. On the last day of the bike trip, our trip met up with the other 12 or so biking / hiking / canoeing trips that made up Wilderness Reflections that year at an old Boy Scout camp on the shores of Lake Cayuga. Most of us spent that night meeting people from other trips - but Nick choose not to. It wasn't because he wasn't social, or because he didn't want to meet other people… but because earlier in the day, we had explored the Boy Scout camp and Nick had found two empty 55 gallon plastic barrels and some nylon rope, and decided that he wanted to "sail" them the following day on Lake Cayuga. My second to last memory of Nick is of going down to the dock before breakfast the next morning - and watching him wade into Lake Cayuga to set sail on the USS B.L.O

The most lasting thoughts that I have of Nick are of his incredible unselfishness. During the entire biking trip, Nick always carried the entire groups water supply. And for most of the trip, this didn't seem very special, as each one of us had to carry a portion of the groups' communal supplies. It wasn't until the very end of the trip that we found out that Nick, all the while carrying one of the heaviest portions of the groups' supplies over the course of 20 miles, hadn't had the use of his bicycle's lowest gears for leverage, and never mentioned it to any one else in the group.

The last time that Nick and I ever saw each other was in the middle of 1998. He had just gotten back from Africa, and there was still red clay covering his tennis shoes. We ran into each other on campus, and since he didn't have a place to stay that night, he crashed at my apartment. My last memories of Nick are of him telling me of the time he spent in Africa - about how he was trying to teach people to make bricks out of their indigenous clay. We reminisced a lot that night… about people that we once knew, but never really bothered to keep in touch with.

In total, I only knew Nick for about 10 days spread out over the course of two years almost six years ago. But from the way that memories of him have rushed over me for the past two days - of his witty little anecdotes based on his personal experiences - to his ingenuity in creating an entire dinner for 12 using only instant noodles and cups - to his ability to transcend his surroundings and simply be himself - I think that I will spend the rest of my life regretting not spending more time with him.

I am truly sorry about your loss, and my only wish right now is that you might be able to take a little solace from knowing how deeply of an impression that Nick was able to leave in such a short amount of time. If there is anything that I can do to be of service to you, please let me know.

With My Deepest Sympathies,
Brice Wu

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