I too am having a hard time putting into words how upsetting
this news has been. It’s painful to think about, particularly
how it will impact Sylvie and the children. I can’t stand the fact
that they will no longer have such an incredible presence in their life,
and of course I feel helpless to do anything.
So I think about memories of Kevin. And I hope beyond hope
that, somehow, this collection of stories from people who knew Kevin
can form a collage through which the children can continue to know more
about their father and the people whose lives he touched. I appreciate
all the thoughts people have written so far and hope we all continue to
think of more.
We got to know Kevin during two of the most formative years of
our lives. And while we didn’t keep in touch as much as we would
have liked, I imagine it always feels that way in such a situation.
Meanwhile, I remember Kevin…
I remember many lunches in the Duke Hospital cafeterias.
There was one particular spot that Kevin found on the far side of the
hospital that allowed you to slice two pieces of bread to accompany
your soup. After our second visit of Kevin pushing the envelope
on slice thickness, the attendant was forced to inform us that there
was a limit to how wide a slice could be or it would count as two slices…
I remember an animated lunchtime discussion about the Civil War
with Kevin and Adam, at the conclusion of which a retired schoolteacher
approached us and said she had overheard us talking and congratulated
us for the quality of the arguments. Okay, she also happened to
note that I was wrong and Kevin was right, but I’m sure I was never reminded
of that detail…
I remember lobbying for and then outfitting (on a $200 budget)
our student lounge in the basement of old chem. Yeah, we complained
about not having resources, but that didn’t affect the enthusiasm for
the job or the ability to achieve results…
I remember Kevin on a visit to my parent’s house. He sat
right down in my Dad’s easy chair and immediately took over the remote
control. I expected some reaction from my Dad, but Kevin’s way
was such that my Dad wasn’t mad; he just commented that Kevin sure makes
himself at home easily…
I remember discussing The Price is Right, and whether or not
one should switch their choice of doors after seeing the goat behind
one of the other options. After some vigorous debate, Kevin saw
my point of view. When he did so, it was not in a begrudging manner.
In fact, he ended up taking the lead (and the chalk) in explaining the
reasoning to the rest of the class. I know that this was but a
tiny example of Kevin’s attitude in general. I am sure he didn’t
do anything begrudgingly. He was either on board or not, and you
always knew where he stood…
Olga and I took our tennis class today and the whole time I couldn’t
stop thinking about Kevin. I swear that I hit the ball with more
authority and less hesitation, putting everything into each swing.
Of course a couple of times the ball sailed over the fence and across
the street, the product of a bit too much enthusiasm and energy.
But on the whole, I have no doubt that the combination of power and concentration
was a direct result of thinking about Kevin. I couldn’t help but
think that the big guy would have approved…
Take care,
David F.
Hard to process the news. Makes one feel
quite small, doesn't it? Jones' words brought a smile though and felt
right. You know that if this had happened to a different classmate,
it's likely Kevin would have chimed in by now with something predictably
indelicate. I loved that about him though, since I know he always meant
well (underneath he was all marshmellow, as Ellen aptly put it). He
did look for the best in people though. I'm just glad to say he was
a friend.
He mellowed considerably as a family man, for those who may not
have kept up with him. It was a role that clearly energized him
and made him whole. Wish I had kept the email he wrote about his
failed vasectomy and the "Sophie surprise." A treasure, to be sure.
Years ago, we both made the trip to Austin for Jones' wedding -- he
with just his son, Will, and me with just my daughter, Paige. After
an evening of TX barbecue and a few Shiner bocks, we sat back to take
in the hill country evening on an outdoor patio while watching our kids
dance and play together to the sounds of a guitar-strumming cowboy.
Felt right.
Other times I saw him in Atlanta on our annual trek to Augusta.
The restoration work he did on his first house was terrific (serious
carpentry skills). He and Sylvie were expecting and seemed happy
living with a cool redbone hound named Lucy. He'd always prepare
the dinner and clean up. Later we'd make a game out of hitting plastic
golf balls around his yard in Alpharetta. He'd point out various plants
and flowers (as I'd replace my divots). Who knew...K, an avid gardener.
He was thoroughly domesticated and happier for it. We had a great
afternoon at the Masters one year. He knew the course by heart and
knew just where he wanted to go, wasting no time to get there. Covered
a lot of ground that day and I struggled to keep up, but it was great to
be able to share that experience with someone who loved golf in the outsized
way K did. Felt right.
Perhaps my fondest memory (besides how he would help himself
to a glazed donut whenever he'd set foot in a grocery store), was playing
golf at the Duke course. We'd sneak on at twilight and attempt
to get around the course before darkness fell. By the time we made
it to the final tee, it would be too dark to see where the ball had landed.
But if our matchplay competition came down to the last hole, honor was
at stake and we had to complete the round. We'd hit our final shots,
listen for perhaps the friendly thud of a fairway or green (or not), and
walk on into the humid gloom that had descended on the pine-tree lined fairway
hoping to keep playing. Sometimes these shots -- okay, my shots --
were never to be found. But more often than not, we'd discover what
appeared to be a single ball resting in perfect position, center cut.
Always, it was Kevin's. He loved to finish like that.
Carpe diem...
David H.
This is all so unbelievably sad, yet at the same time comforting
to hear all of your voices.
I am travelling (work) and read the news on my blackberry which
makes it all the more surreal and hard to believe. Can it really be true?
All I can do besides imagining the horrible pain his family must
be feeling is picture his big shit-eating grin and hear his cackle of
a laugh. While I've been horribly out of touch (last exchange I think
I had with Kevin is when he went off to work on Ross Perot's campaign and
I told him he was a lunatic! Am I remembering that correctly?!) - I am
inundated with memories and images of our times at Duke. You're all so
right about Kevin's big, big heart (which makes this all the more horrible
to fathom). He loved to tease me and others (Ellen definitely got the
brunt being the Dem from Mass), but it was always in good fun.
Favorite memories: When he went on a mountain bike ride with
me in the Duke Forrest and kept pushing me as if for one minute I could
keep up with him (I think he confused me for someone who could actually
mountain bike and not simply use a mountain bike for a nice ride through
the woods). Also the time he thought me response to the Harley Davidson
case was utterly ridiculous (I couldn't figure out the math, so argued
that they should be "saved" because they were part of "America" -- he thought
that was a cop-out and ridiculous...you could only imagine).
This is so incredibly sad.
Thanks to Olga and Bob for sharing this news and encouraging
us all to pull together. I would love to do something to honor him and
help his family. I like the idea of a scholarship fund for the kids.
- Deb O.
My heart is heavy to hear the news about your husband,
Sylvie. I am so very sad for you for this tragedy.
When I think back upon those days, I want to share with you how he made
me - us all - smile and laugh. Personally, he gave me as good as it gets,
especially to a liberal from Boston, but we all knew that he was really
a marshmallow underneath it all and a good soul at that. He is a part of
my cherished memories at Duke and I will miss him.
I cannot imagine your pain.
You and your children are in our prayers.
We send you our love and deepest sympathy.
Ellen and Alex D.
My dear friends…
I have been struggling all weekend with the news about Kevin…struggling
to understand why, when I know I am not entitled to an answer…struggling
to hold back the tears, when I know that I am entitled to cry…and struggling
to know what to write to all of you and to Kev’s wonderful family.
It has truly been a blessing to read the words you have written
and to close my eyes and relive all the memories you all have sent rushing
back into my heart and mind. The fries at Satisfactions, kicking the
soda machine in the Warmath lounge, our fabulous student lounge, arguing
over rail crossings or snow removal are all great memories.
From our days at Duke, I too remember Kevin’s mystical Sylvie
and wondering if such a wonderful fantasy was actually real. I remember
Kevin questioning my sanity over getting married between first and second
year and the joy with which he embraced Sheila the first time he greeted
her as Mrs. Francis.
Kevin and I disagreed on so many political and policy ideas, but
those things all melted away over a plate of fries or even more special,
a perfectly struck 9-iron from the middle of the 9th fairway at the Duke
golf course…for me it was a 6-iron, man could he hit a golf ball. Kev
and Hep helped me forge a love of the game that I have passed on to my
son.
But the Kevin that I will miss most is the man that I have come
to know as a businessman, coach, husband and father. The friendship I
have forged with Kevin, Adam, Hep and Dave and Olga has taken place because
of the internet. Hardly a month has gone by when we have not “discussed”
family, faith, politics, football, golf, Duke basketball, the joys and
pains of marriage and fatherhood and our the legacy we want to leave to
our children. We have supported each other’s dreams and challenged each
other to rise up from our failures.
Even now our politics diverged but our connection to history did
not. Kevin said he understood the historical significance of a Barack
Obama, but in Kevin fashion concluded that Obama scared him. In typical Kevin
fashion, even his online persona was large and a bit over the top. When
I read the news of his heart attack, I was awaiting his latest critique
of a Duke Basketball loss and their defensive breakdown…a critique I will
sorely miss.
During this past several years, Kevin visited my family in our
Raleigh home and his bear hug of Sheila was just as full of love as always.
I was fortunate enough to dine with Kevin one year ago this week when
I introduced him to another friend in Atlanta who I knew shares his politics.
It was like the three of us had been lifelong friends. Despite the
threatening economy, Kevin had opened his own real estate business, was
harnessing the power of technology, something called Facebook, to
get his name out…he was always an early adopter. From Colorado, to
SMU to Brown to Duke public policy to software to real estate, Kevin Warmath
blazed his own trail. He lived for his wife and children. He was determined
that his true legacy, his true gift to this world would be his family and
in that he has succeeded.
And that is what has joined Kevin, Hep, Adam, Dave and Olga and
me together through the years. We share a degree from a great university,
we have shared economic ups and downs, we have shared marriages and the
joy and surprise upon the birth of our children. We have shared holiday
wishes and heartfelt blessings. We have been blessed to share a handshake
and hug, although all too infrequently. And we will always have our memories…
In many ways, it’s just a continuation of what Kevin started in
that student lounge about 18 years ago…
I too talked of Kevin this morning at my church, of the man he
was and the legacy he leaves behind. To a person in my Sunday school
class they said they wished they had known him. We are all blessed that
we did.
May God continue to comfort you and bless you in knowing that
Kevin’s treasures are laid up in heaven and his family is wrapped in
God’s love.
I look forward to raising a toast to Kevin with as many of you
as possible…SOON!
Garrick F.
Dear Friends,
What heart-breaking news...
I have just spent the morning reading everyone's memories and
kind words. I don't have much more to add, other than Kevin was
truly a friend to each and everyone of us in class and he touched us
in his own special way...he was a special man and he will be missed...I'm
sorry that we lost touch with one another--much in the same way that I've
lost touch with most of you in the class--and thus so greatly appreciate
Bob Malme's efforts to keep us updated--I never miss reading one of Bob's
class e-mails and internet postings.
Please count me in with respect to a class gift to his wife and
children. I think that this is a wonderful and appropriate idea
and I will happily contribute.
Also, Kevin's passing has made me re-evaluate some aspects of
my life...and I encourage all of us to do so as well. None of us
are getting younger, and I remember five years ago when I got a heart
attack while on a bus in Japan (when my son was only one year old).
God spared me, and I've led a very full and active life since that time...but
as all of you know, I'm fond of my food...and the tragic news about Kevin
has made me re-evaluate how I have been slipping back into my old habits...I
would encourage all of you to do the same...because, while we never know
what life has in store for us or our loved ones, we do need to remember
that we're not getting any younger and a good check-up is important.
While it sounds like in Kevin's case, he was suffering from a rare disorder,
for many of us (like in my case), poor eating habits and stressful living
can take its toll...so, let's allow Kevin's tragic passing to be a wake
up call to all of us as well to take better care of ourselves and thus our
families...
Thanks again to all of you for keeping everyone posted on this
and for letting us remember our fond memories of Kevin.
Your friend,
Joe (Yuval)...
Well, I can hardly believe that we're writing about
Kevin in this way. I've thought about him and his family all
day today. What a tremendously sad tragedy. Kevin and I
have exchanged Christmas cards for years, and I will deeply miss hearing
from him.
I don't even remember my initial encounter with Kevin while we
were at Duke - along with my memories of many of you, he just seemed
to be an integral part of my life for two very important years.
During that time, he was like a brother to me. He was an incredibly
loyal and supportive friend. He challenged me; he helped me whenever I needed
it; and he always made me laugh. I cannot think of my time at Duke
without thinking of him and his big boyish grin.
I have so many fond memories of Kevin. While at Duke, Kevin
and I shared many meals together and had wonderful conversations.
As he did with Suzanne, he taught me how to make his favorite Duke dish
- Chili Etti. He talked about that dish all the time. We also
often went to one of the local eateries which Kevin found had an "all-you-can-eat"
steak night. He ate his fair share of steak and then some.
At some point, the staff caught on to characters like Kevin and installed
a one ticket policy - one steak for one ticket. When Kevin was done
with his one steak, he would cruise around the restaurant looking for
unused tickets. I don't think we ever got out of there without his
having eaten three steaks. He seemed to get a kick out of beating
the system. I also remember his coming to my parents' home at some
point. My mother had made my family's favorite lasagna. Kevin
was hungry and asked if we had anything to eat. (He always seemed to
be hungry.) I showed him the lasagna, which he devoured in short order.
In fact, he ate one half of a 9X13 pan in less than 15 minutes. I was
stunned.as was my mother who wondered how many people we had over for lunch.
I told her only Kevin.
Kevin was always there to give me a bit of advice. One
time, we were going to Chapel Hill, and he didn't like the way I was
driving. He thought that I wasn't braking correctly. Without
hesitation, he proceeded to tell me correct "braking technique."
Even now, I still think of that conversation every so often as I'm driving.
Kevin also was ready to lend a helping hand to me and to complete
strangers. As I was driving to Durham the beginning of our second year,
I was thinking about what an ordeal it was going to be getting the stuff
out of my car into my second floor apartment. I knew that I had
hours of unpacking left to do after completing my four hour drive.
As I pulled into my apartment complex parking lot, there was Kevin.
I hadn't called him to help, but there he was, on his own, ready to lend
a helping hand. He unloaded everything in my car. He never
seemed burdened by the help he offered, and he seemed energized by the opportunity
to do what he could.
One time, a group of us went to Satisfactions for dinner.
I was sitting next to Kevin. Most of the meal Kevin was very relaxed,
but towards the end he appeared to be on edge. As the table next
to us cleared, Kevin bolted from our table running out the front door.
He knew that the customers at the table next to us had not paid their
bill, and he wanted to make sure they did. I am fairly sure that
he must have overheard the fellows next to us planning their non-bill
paying strategy, and he was waiting to see if they'd go through with the
plan. The waitress was very appreciative of his help.
I always loved being in one of our small groups with Kevin.
He was great at figuring out the first sentence in a Bob Behn memo; he
could very quickly decide the issues at hand; and he always had a solution
for the problem. He pulled his weight, and he expected no less
of others. He enjoyed class, and he loved a good disagreement over
an issue. We often talked about how great it was that our Duke class
had so many divergent points-of-view.
I remember Kevin's love of Duke; I remember watching "Cinema
Paradiso" -- my favorite movie ever -- for the first time with Kevin
and many of you; I remember Kevin's wonderful dancing technique at Rich
Clinch's wedding; I remember watching Duke basketball with him and going
to the bonfires to celebrate Duke's NCAA wins; I remember his efforts for
a student lounge; and I remember his strong friendships with the guys in
our class. And although I never met or saw him with his kids later
in life, one of my fondest memories of him now will be something that, unfortunately,
I never witnessed myself. In one of the blogs, one of his Georgia
friends wrote that Kevin would always call out to his children before they
got on the school bus, "Remember to do your best to be kind to others."
I will remember that, I think, forever.
I will support anything we do for Sylvie and the kids.
I think a scholarship fund would be great. I'd be curious to
hear what Adam thinks as he was Kevin's best man. Thirteen years
ago, Alan and I lost one of our friends in our wedding. Like Kevin,
our friend died too young leaving very young children behind. Sadly,
Sylvie and the kids have a long, difficult road ahead. I would love
if we could give them something showing their father's life while he was
part of our own family. I have some great pictures of Kevin that I'm
going to copy and send to Sylvie. If anyone else has pictures, I
would be happy to put together a book for the family. Just let me
know.
This weekend, I'm going to look for my Chili Etti recipe, hug
my family, and try not to sweat the small stuff. I hope that we
will all stay in touch. You guys were such an important part of my life
many years ago, and I'm better off for it. I will miss Kevin very
much, and I will be forever grateful that our paths crossed. He was
a great friend.
With much love,
Kelly M.
I'm also at a total loss for words. While
I lost touch with Kevin, I feel like our class had such a special bond
of warmth and closeness that included and enveloped everyone, and
I feel a deep loss at having lost one of us, and Kevin - who had so
much energy and zest for life and warmth and love of mischief.
This is so awful.
Taking comfort in seeing all of your names,
Nancy H. in Durham
The first time I saw Kevin I thought he was the ultimate
American:
Active in every season.
Generous in his consumption and generous in his giving.
Optimistic, self confident, risk taking, outspoken. A bit
intimidating.
But the person you would like to be with if you were lost in
a dangerous situation.
As I read your notes, many memories came back. One
story that comes to mind when I think of Kevin was during a summer
in Boston. We were trying to find a parking spot around the Boston
Public Gardens. As we drove by, a car was pulling out.
Kevin jumped out of the car to save the space while we went around.
But another driver had the same idea and did not believe that
a person (regardless of the size) could have a legitimate claim of a
parking space. The guy started to park. Kevin let him know
that it was saved. The guy ignored Kevin and kept on parking.
Kevin did not move. The guy kept on parking until his bumper was
pushing against Kevin's legs. Kevin still did not move.
As we approached the space again, we rushed over to the scene.
The other guy was also hardheaded. At some point Kevin
punched the hood of the car and the guy finally stopped. There
was a large dent in the hood and the guy came out of the car to check,
talking about suing for damages (the nerve!). We argued
with the guy and said that we had witnessed him trying to run over Kevin.
When I pulled out a paper to write down his license plate, the guy finally
realized that it was gonna be hard for him to sue the pedestrian he nearly
ran over, so he left very quickly and the parking space was left
open.
Kevin made perfect omelets, and handed a hammer with exceptional
ease. Both because of jobs he had pre Duke. He mentioned
his skills with pride.
Another image is Kevin carrying those not-so-new couches
from the Salvation Army-type place we visited to outfit our student
lounge. They were not pretty. And they were the least stained
ones. But his energy and enthusiasm was contagious. We were
so proud of that lounge. That was two PPS buildings ago.
Current students would not believe a story like this.
Another time we were talking about food. He asked for a
very Costarrican dish. I tried to explain to him what we called
"tamale". It is corn dough wrapped in banana leaves with everything
in it. It is big. It is a meal in it-self. "Kind of… like you!
You are a tamale!" The next time I saw him I said "Hey,
Tamale!" In the same beat he answered, "Yo, Fe-mhale!"
And that is how he would greet me every time, in person and virtually.
A particular nickname makes you feel special, doesn't it?
He made you feel unique in the attention he paid to each of your
words. When he was with you, he was with you.
I also remember him saying that if he ever were to get married,
it would have to be to Sylvie. I wondered if this Sylvie
really existed or if it was a mythical creature, the way he talked about
her.
It was clear on his wedding day that she was the one for him.
He was the "Kevinest" on that day, next to her. It seemed a match
made in heaven. The loving images that he shared of her throughout
the years left no doubt.
I have not met his kids in person. They seem to have his
sparkle in their eyes in every photo that he lovingly shot, edited
and posted. I hope they are taught the force of a father
they had.
That force, strength and energy moved him to undertake any challenge
without a flinch. Be that dancing salsa at our wedding in Costa
Rica, arguing a public policy point, or preventing some bar customers
from leaving without paying. It is so Kevin to donate his organs
to save other peoples lives, isn't it?
I learned a lot more than public policy with you all. Our
time in Duke was intense and delicious. And it was even more
so because Kevin was there.
Of all the places that are remembering Kevin, one unlikely place
is a small reformed synagogue in Costa Rica. With tears in our
eyes after mentioning his name, David and I held hands and said kadish
for him last night.
Olga C.
Hi everyone. I am in shock and deeply saddened
by Kevin's passing. I have read all of your messages and looked
at Kelly's pictures and it
reminds me of all that I held dear about that time in my life.
It also stirred up some of the deepest regrets I have about not spending
more
quality time with, you, my fellow classmates during our time in
the graduate program. I was so happy to read the numerous personal
remembrances of the times with Kevin -- keep them coming. They
are precious to me. I'm sure that his children will treasure any that
you
can share. (my oldest son loves for me to tell him stories
about when I was a kid and my school days...)
I remember Kevin being a smart and witty force, a big fun - sometimes
gnarly:) - presence, a big teddy bear. I (heck...most everyone)
enjoyed
being around him, talking to him, and just watching him in action.
I can only imagine, that as a dear husband and father, he was more loved
than
he could ever imagine...
My thoughts, prayers, strong heart-healing vibes and hugs go out
to his family and dearest friends who, no doubt, find it hard to imagine
a
world without Kevin in it.
Sheila C.
I always remember Kevin at this time of year…...We
still make his chili (recipe at bottom page) every Superbowl Sunday
– since we were all at Duke together and he shared his recipe with me
one night at Satisfaction’s……he may have just rattled off a few ingredients,
but it makes a great pot o’ chili and Jason and I enjoy it – and memories
of Kevin – at least once every year. I am saddened by his passing
and grateful to have known him.
I remember Kevin and all of you fondly. It was a fabulous
two years that we shared. I appreciate the time we spent together
and cherish the memories.
What an amazing couple of years! Jason is amazed at how close
we were as a class...something he didn't experience in his Maters program..
Jason liked Kevin and shared a funny story with me about a conversation
they had early on...Kevin was gracious and fun to be around.
I learned from him
and enjoyed his opinions. His memory lives among all of us
and I'd say we're better for having known him. Among the many
flashes I have recalled
in the past few days...I remember, too, the many times spent at
Satisfaction's, when he lost his contact lens in the swimming pool, the
endless Bob Behn memos, and being glad and flattered when Kevin
asked me to be in a group with him for some assignment. He spent
time with me
discussing education issues and practicing interview questions.
Our Superbowl chili will forever be Kevin's.
I will raise a glass to Kevin and to all of you..take care and
may God's grace deliver us all...
For Kevin:
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
And the rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hands.
Best to all,
Suzanne S.
Thanks to all for sharing their thoughts and memories
of Kevin. It has definitely been a bittersweet walk down memory
lane for me. I remember our years at Duke with great fondness.
I am sure Kevin's family appreciated having so many representatives
from Duke at the service. No doubt Adam was a great spokesman for
all of us.
Tessa K.
Such sad news. These are all wonderful emails--.
I had been thinking of Kevin recently because my brother and his wife
just had a baby girl, named "Sylvie," and I thought, the only person
I know named Sylvie is married to Kevin Warmath.
I can think of lots of fun times at Duke with Kevin. I
am grateful for him lobbying to get a Coke machine in our lame student
lounge, I am thankful that he organized that first PPS cookout at his
house (I remember meeting Garrick and his wife Sheila there).
I also can think of funny times when we both had our guitars and played
really bad versions of "Desperado." I remember Kevin's enthusiasm
at finding this "really great place to eat"--the K and W cafeteria in
Chapel Hill.
Graduate school at Duke seems like a lifetime ago--but now all
these memories are flooding back. Robbie (Duke Forestry '92)
and I would be happy to support any type of class gift or donation.
Hope all of you are well, Treeby B.
Thanks to all for sharing their e-mails. As the
editor of this page, I thought I would conclude with words of my own. The
problem with doing so is what more can one say or what words can you use
that have not already been stated. My most vivid memories of Kevin echo
those in the previous messages. There was the ‘larger than life’ Kevin who
would make sure everyone was involved in a celebration even if he had to
toss you in a pool or give you a beer ‘shampoo’ at a basketball bonfire.
He also was always after people to join him on his unending quest to find
a place where you could eat the most food at the lowest price. This often
meant for me going along to the Durham Hilton where he had found out you
could get free appetizers and half-priced drinks at the hotel bar during their
weekday ‘Happy Hours’.
But I also remember the ‘other’ Kevin who would, sometimes quietly, do
anything to help his classmates. His involvement in creating a student lounge
helped give me space to post, for better or worse, my Top Ten lists. Putting
out these lists were a way of keeping me sane while taking my mind off the
memo of the day. This was beneficial to me and hopefully others in the class
who took a break to read them as well.
I am sorry not to have been in a group project with Kevin, but he did
try to be helpful over a problem I had with one of Bob Behn’s management
task memos. He had asked us to write a two-page memo on solving a problem
we had noticed at Duke. I had a hard time coming up with a topic due to
problems with organizing my master's memo topic and completing projects
for other classes (which must have been important at the time but for which
I now forget). I thus ended up turning my memo idea in after everyone else.
Turns out it was the same as Kevin's (probably one of the few times we agreed
on something in a Behn class), about how to increase the number of bike
racks near Old Chem. We had both brought our mountain bikes with us to Duke.
Kevin, not surprisingly, was a more avid biker than I. While he tackled the
wilds of Orange County, I basically stuck around campus with an occasional
trip into the wilds of the surrounding Durham neighborhoods. At Behn’s
urging we met. I said that since he picked the topic first, he could
keep it and I would find another one. I must have detailed the problems I
had in coming up with a topic to which Kevin took notice. I ended up finding
another subject when a light outside my front door at my Central Campus apartment
conveniently decided to go out (the memo started ‘It was a dark and stormy
night’, I still got a good grade). It ended up though that Kevin, I guess
thinking it might be hard for me to change topics, changed his topic too.
This selfless act though meant it would have to wait until another class,
or generation, to solve the bike rack problem. I believe new bike racks went
in after the Institute moved out of Old Chem.
The last time I saw Kevin was, believe it or not, in liberal Boston the
summer after graduation. He was visiting with Dave and Olga (is this the
same day as the car parking incident?) and they were walking the Freedom
Trail. I was still unemployed and just happened to go into the city that
day to check on federal jobs. From my pre-Duke days I knew a place in Charlestown
where I could park at no cost (what Kevin was to cheap food, I am to cheap
parking), had checked the federal job postings at the O’Neil building, then
besides the Boston Garden, and was on my way to an event at Boston Common
when I simply ran into them by the State House. I decided to spend
the rest of the day tagging along with them, getting to play tourist and
having my first chance to eat at the Durgin Park restaurant. I think Kevin
was disappointed that we weren’t served by a surly waitress as tradition
says came with the place. In the days after I tried to use my best probability
models to come up with the odds of meeting people you know from another part
of the country accidentally in a big city like Boston. I couldn’t come up
with a number, sorry Phil, but the odds had to have been long. Now after
Kevin’s passing it has made me think of it more. If I had to stop in my 20
mile drive into town at one more stoplight, if I had found a job description
I was interested in at the Federal Building, if I didn’t find a parking space
where I thought I could, etc. I probably would have missed out on meeting
everyone that day. I’ve never been a person who believes things happen for
a reason, but then something like what happened that day occurs, you see
someone that, as it turns out, you’ll never see again, and you start to wonder.
I am certainly glad that I had a chance to re-connect with Kevin through
e-mail starting last fall through a business network community called Linked-In
that we both, along with Suzanne, belonged to. Much of the conversations
involved the election and, needless to say, we usually didn’t have the same
opinion as to whose policies would be best for the country. His site though
gave me access to his blog through which I was able to get to know more about
the Kevin of 2008/09, and his family. I saw that he was happy in his job,
and he was very proud of everyone in his household. It thus makes it all the
more tragic that he left us and them at this time.
People at the Institute know the reputation of our class and often ask
me why we have remained so close over the years (I often joke that because
our class was so great they decided to retire the MAPPS degree after 1992
and that’s why graduating students since 1993 get ‘only’ an MPP). I can never
come up with a definitive answer. Certainly it had a lot to do with the
personalities in the class and that we had to endure (I mean take) at least
three classes from Bob Behn. Certainly Kevin also had a lot to do with it.
Whether it was his challenging others to back up their statements in class
or his actions outside of Old Chem, he helped forge bonds that have been
long lasting. For that we should all be eternally grateful. It is my greatest
hope that we continue to honor Kevin by keeping in frequent contact with
each other, not waiting until another similar sad event to find out what’s
been happening in each other’s lives. Wishing only the best to everyone.
Bob Malme
The Memorial Service
Today was a long day, a long goodbye.
This morning I was privileged to meet Adam, Fein, and Hep and Kitty
Lei to attend Kevin’s memorial service in Atlanta. We got up early, we
made connections in Dallas, Charlotte, Ft. Lauderdale…but when we embraced
it was as if we hung out every day.
We reminisced about our days as students and told our favorite Kevin
stories.
At the memorial service, what struck me was Sylvie’s silent strength
even in her disbelief. She was pleased to see us and to know how highly
we all regard Kevin and the impact he made on our lives. Sylvie is surrounded
and enveloped by the love and friendship of family and friends both in
Atlanta and around the world.
The tributes were moving in celebration of a life well lived.
We heard stories we had never heard before including ones about Kevin
rock climbing in high school, recently becoming a vegetarian (yep you read
that right) and Coach K coaching lacrosse. We heard stories that affirmed
what we already knew – Kevin loved to eat and he loved life. We left a
Duke hat on the table with his pictures from the Class of 92 that Adam,
Hep, Fein and I signed. Adam brought a copy of the book for the kids,
Dave brought some shirts from Costa Rica and Kitty Lei joined us in bringing
our collective love and support for the family. It was comforting being
there together.
Perhaps Jones put it best when he spoke on our behalf and said “
Kevin was big… he lived big…he loved big, perhaps the world could no longer
contain him…”
On a personal note, I have been where the kids are tonight, as may
some of you. Its different for everyone, I am sure. And it’s difficult
to fathom the loss of you father when you are so young. Eventually
the people go away, the memories become a bit fuzzy and life tugs you kicking
and screaming into a new reality. One day 3 months, 6 months or 2
years from now when you think of Kevin, I urge you to take a moment to write
Slyvie and the kids and remind them what their husband and father meant to
so many.
Following the service it was back to the airport where we embraced
once more and headed in separate directions to our respective homes.
It was a beautiful day for a beautiful man.
Goodnight Kevin.
Boy, there sure isn’t a lot of hair left on those four heads is
there?
I crossed over the MOPAC bridge last night at midnight on the way
home from the airport. The Colorado ran underneath me and, to the west,
I saw my favorite view of the increasingly beautiful skyline of my beloved
Austin. I went home to my wife and kids and said a prayer for Sylvie,
Will, Sophie and Clara Warmath.
It’s really one hell of a life, isn’t it?
The Jewish philosopher Noah Ben-Shea wrote a classic book called
Jacob the Baker, which reminds me of Feingold now (go figure).
In it, he writes: “The moments we do not spend are not saved.”
Indeed.
Good night, sweet prince.
Adam J.
Garrick, Dave, Adam, David, I love you guys.
Thank you for sharing Kevin’s life with us, and the great pictures of all
of you, Garrick. Your love for Kevin, and the collective pain that
we all feel right now for this shocking and untimely death, truly reminds
me of the solidarity and spirit that firemen and policemen often have for
each other when one is lost. The two years we had at Duke were a shared
experience of a different nature than what firemen must do for each other
but all the same it created a culture of support that is on par.
I cannot make sense of Kevin’s death, too early to go, when there was
so much life for him, with his children and Sylvie. I think back
upon how different Kevin’s opinions were from my Kennedy liberal views (still
have them), how he threw me into the pool for a swim at the end of the first
year (Bob Malme reminded me of that!), and yet how the next week he was asking
me to take care of his plants for the summer. The poor plant got some
sort of weird fungus – white s**t all over it - that summer, but Kevin nursed
it back to life. Take care, everyone. Love, Ellen B. D.
Thanks to Kelly Metcalf-Meese and Garrick Francis for the photos. More
to thoughts to come.
Here's Kevin's chili recipe for all of you....[Suzanne's
notes in brackets]
Ingredients
1 bag (1 lb) kidney beans [I have also used
canned beans (low sodium) to speed up the process - don't have to soften
the beans, just simmer for a while with other ingredients]
1 bag pink beans
1 bag black beans [I have also just used 2 black
and 1 kidney]
1 pound meat (chili grind or ground beef [I
use ground turkey])
1 large can tomato sauce
1 small can tomato paste
1 large chopped onion
"Enough" chili powder [I use 1 tablespoon for
this large amount of chili; 1 teaspoon for less]
Enough cayenne pepper [I use 1 tablespoon]
Enough cumin [I use 2 tablespoons]
Enough sliced jalapenos [I use 2-3 for this
large amount]
Directions
Cook beans until soft, cook beef.
Add all ingredients and simmer 2 hours in large
pot.
Enjoy!!
Best, Suzanne
* Photo from KevinWarmath.com
*
