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Fred is right. Mike and I compared notes on U2 every time we saw each other in college. I even went to my first stadium concert (U2 of course) with Mike. Before the concert we went to Medway, joked about our tickets. I nabbed seventh row with a single phone call. He had called all morning and got nosebleed seats. When we separated at the Foxboro gates, he waved, as I ran to my seat on the field. Later, he wasn't a bad sport about it; he joked as Mike would do. He asked me how I enjoyed the show. He reminded me that he'd basically seen it on TV, the stage and his seats were so, so distant from each other. Was that really U2 out there? he asked as he drove us all back to Providence. I also saw Weezer with him. A great concert companion, he the translated what would become classic Weezer lyrics for me: "It's nothin' real, so I better keep a-whackin'".

But seriously, Mike and I reconnected by email in late August 2007 when I was living in Sierra Leone, and he was leaving his post at the Watson Institute. I had become interested in writing about conflict zones, and we were bonding over our academic approaches to the topic. We promised we would meet up and talk when we were both back in the states. We never did. My last conversation with a very close friend was about Mike. We worried about what he was doing in Afghanistan. Could either of us do it? No, I decided. His choice to do so was highly contested, but I hope that we can understand his work with the human terrain project as a choice he made in good conscience and with great expectations about the lives he could save. Mike, rest in peace.