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Mrs. Fremont,

I wanted to share a little bit with you what Marcel means to me. I
hope in a small way, my words will help. Before I ever met Marcel on
the WashU campus, I noticed him. He was the quiet guy who sat across
from me every day during lunch time, always reading a book. Then he
was the guy whizzing by me on his bicycle on the WashU campus and in
Ucity. Then more strangely he was the guy with the c wild crazy hair
and beard marching to his own beat. He intrigued me and I couldn't
help but wonder who he was and what was his story. I finally met him
in Nov 2005. I signed up to take part in a paint-balling adventure and
to my surprise I found out he was going to be there. I was excited
because I would finally get to meet him. When I arrived at the
paint-balling facility, he was already there, sitting against the wall
with his knees drawn to his chest and an almost sorrowful expression
on his face.  I am extremely shy and debated whether I should initiate
a conversation with him for minutes before I finally did.  I asked him
whether he was French and we ended up talking intermittently during
the entire event.  I went home that day with a feeling of having met
the most amazing person and I couldn't wait to talk to him again.
That year and for the next year and half we started meeting up for
lunch regularly. Our conversations ranged from politics to religion,
to the meaning of life. I could talk to him about anything and he
matched me thought for thought, argument for argument---his mind was
that facile.  He impressed me with his thirst for knowledge and
boundless curiosity about the world around him. Though I was the shy
Christian girl and I probably said things that he totally disagreed
with, he was always civil and never judgmental.  I loved arguing with
him-- he made me see aspects of my faith and God in a different way
than I had thought. He challenged me intellectually and never in a
condescending manner. I loved the way his mind worked. I loved how he
listened to me as if I were the only person in the world. I loved that
he would stop on the street and talk to a homeless man or woman with
the same respect and interest that he showed me. I loved how when
someone stopped him to ask for money he never said no or made up some
excuse. I loved how he noticed people nobody ever pays attention to,
and showed them kindness and graciousness. Though he didn't
necessarily share my faith, to me, he embodied the Christ -like
characteristic of reaching out and loving people regardless of their
station in life.he saw them, talked to them, lived among them, and
acknowledged their humanity all without judgment.  I am incredibly
saddened and shaken by his loss. I feel as if the world has been
deprived of someone destined to do great things. He packed more life
in his twenty nine years than most of us ever will in a lifetime. You
raised a wonderful son. I am the better for having known him these
past two years and half.  He showed me what it means to truly live
life unafraid, to care about people in an authentic way, to become a
'connoisseur of the awkward moments' (his words).  I shall never
forget him.  May the Lord in His grace be with you and your family as
you grapple with your loss.

 - Danielle Atibalentja