When I was looking through all the pictures I have of Howard, I found that few were without a smile or some staged antic. Howard was exuberant, buoyant, lively, and had an abandon for life. And even though he had many obstacles to overcome, Howard was joyously unrestrained by what we perceived to be his boundaries.

His soul was unconquerable - he ignored any of his limitations and focused on his strengths. When doctors told our parents he wouldn't walk, he did. He even was a member of the North Harrison High School marching band, participating in numerous parades and competitions. And throughout college on his bicycle he bounded around Rolla Missouri giving the messenger Mercury a run for his money. When either of us would ride up to the others apartment, the echoes of 'Wuussssyyyyy!' would ring through the streets of Rolla, in our boyish attempts to out-yell the other and embarrass ourselves in front of our neighbors.

I don't think any of us could comprehend the everyday obstacles that Howard must have endured in his normal day. We take for granted our bodies working flawlessly, but he tolerated without complaint his existence - making the best with what he was given. From his first years, he had numerous operations to help his legs, his spine, and his internal organs yet smiling, he gave to all who knew him good will, friendship, love and understanding as only a brother can. With all his physical differences he was never bitter and asked for no special considerations. He didn't consider himself handicapped, and I didn't either. He taught me great lessons in perseverance and dignity under any circumstances, and for that I owe him a great debt.

Howard roamed the West asking questions we all have asked ourselves like: Why am I here? or What is my purpose in life? In an email to one of his close friends he wrote:

(Sigh). Tucson is on the edge of nowhere. I often wander into the desert and watch the critters scurrying around. There's lots of little salamanders and bugs and things I don't even recognize. And they all seem to be in such a hurry! Back and forth, to and fro, here and there with some sort of apparent purpose. I like to try to imagine what kind of business a salamander has that he's running so quickly to stay on schedule. I suppose their business is the same as ours - staying alive, trying to keep our head above water.

And after years of introspection, I believe that Howard finally realized that he was the Master of his Fate. Howard was never one to make a hasty decision, so I have to conclude that this is what he wanted. Selfishly, I would never choose to have him gone from my life but I know that there must have been reasons only he knew which made him choose this. I wish that I had stayed closer to him. I will miss his quick wit, his ubiquitous smile, and give-em-hell attitude. We are better people to have known you, Howard, and you will never be forgotten.

We love you.

Rest in Peace.