My memories of Wynn

Though Wynn and I were friends for years, we only rarely got to see
each other in person. Being in college, then a new graduate, then a
grad student has meant that my life has been pretty nomadic for the
past few years. All through it, though, Wynn and I have managed to
keep in touch via the internet, where we talked for the first and the
last time.

But even though our friendship grew over these long distances, some
of my favorite memories of Wynn are from the times when we got to see
each other face to face. There was the day that we hiked up Enchanted
Rock twice – the first time for the hike, the second because we
realized we would be able to see the sun set; monopolizing the sofa
at Kevin's birthday party; hiking around the dam in San Marcos. And
one day last summer, we arranged to meet near Austin to go sailing
with his dad. I got up ridiculously early and set off from my
parents' place before the sun was even up. Arriving, I was greeted
with breakfast and, soon after, the three of us headed to the lake.
Since I hadn't been sailing before, I was a little nervous but soon
found that there was no cause for worry: there wasn't but the tiniest
puff of wind the entire time we were out on the lake. All the same,
it was a great afternoon made fun by our conversation.

Another story typifies a different aspect of our friendship for me.
Facing the end of my first semester of graduate school, I had a panic
attack on campus this last December that resulted in my missing both
a class and a presentation I'd been scheduled to give. When I started
towards home, I sorely needed somebody to talk to and called Wynn. At
first he thought I was just being social, calling as I sometimes did
on my way home from the grocery store, but once I relayed to him what
had just happened, he told me a story from his own university days.
He was in a class with a title something like "Literature and
Urbanism." And, though the readings were engaging, a major project of
the class had given him a bit of trouble. The class was supposed to
pick a street, and then write about it. Instead of picking a major,
happening, typically "interesting" street like his classmates were
doing, Wynn chose the most boring street that he could find,
challenging himself to find something interesting about it. What he
found was that it was boring because it was in a sort of "no man's
land" between a wealthy area and a much less privileged one. Further
distancing himself from his classmates' take on the assignment, Wynn
wrote his report in a more experimental, narrative form. Having taken
so many liberties with the assignment, he was obviously a little
nervous about turning it in. But not only did he receive an excellent
grade from the professor, Wynn told me that when he ran into that
same prof a couple years ago, the prof told him that his paper on
that "boring" little street was still being used as an example of
that project. I could hear how proud he was of that fact.

That's a good example of who Wynn was to me. He always did his best
in whatever he took on, and he was always there rooting for me in his
quirky way. And even though he used to kid me about being bad with
expressing my emotions, I know I can say that I love and miss the
friend I had in Wynn.

Nathaniel Hendrix
dymaxion@gmail.com