Mark, as I knew him, when he was 18, was even then the kindest of young men. He was my hero, and my shoulder to cry on my senior year of high school. I was filled with grief, confusion and anger that year because of the death of someone I'd cared for but he was always there with arms to hold me. He always made me laugh and always made me feel loved. We could never stop talking about everything in the world. His intellect and inquisitiveness had no end it seemed. Music and friends, the very best,filled our lives then. Eventually we were parted with a thousand miles between us but I would never forget his friendship and love, his strength and gentleness, always. Linda Whitesides Harris