In Memoriam: Chris Owens

Today I received some very sad news.

Chris Owens, a good friend of mine for 10 years, was found to have taken his life this morning. I wish this evening to commemorate his life.

Chris was everything you could want in a friend. He was very bright and knew how to make you smile. I rarely saw Chris without a smile on his own face and he was always quick to share in mirth with others.

We spent hours discussing politics, society, but also ridiculous topics (which animal in the animal kingdom would win in an open arena showdown. His answer: the hippo).

His face was one of the few I knew I could count on while I was in Salt Lake City dealing with medical problems. I always felt we were kindred spirits. If nothing else, Chris was a loyal friend.

On top of his wonderful personality, he was also talented jazz pianist, guitarist, and music major. It seems like only a few days ago, and it really almost was, when I was driving him to the University 15th Student Ward at the University of Utah. He wore his stylish aviators, goatee, and leather jacket. One week, he and my cousin Mike played a beautiful piano duet arrangement of "All Creatures of Our God and King." This is what made him so memorable; humor balanced with sincerity. Passion with self-control. Strength with gentleness.

In "The Sandlot," Babe Ruth appears to one of the main characters in a dream and imparts this wisdom: Heroes may be remembered, but legends never die.

Christopher Owens was a legend in my eyes. The things we did were memorable, and though he is gone, I have a vast archive of fond memories to look back on.

I do not know the details of his tragic decision, but I pray that he finds relief to his burdens in the Lord's arms. I wish to close with the beautiful language of William Wordsworth.

"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,

Hath had elsewhere its setting,

And cometh from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come

From God, who is our home[.]"

I will miss you, Chris.