Older Brother, Mentor and friend   I met Marc during spring break 1988.  We drove down with our church from Sparks, NV to Santa Cruz for an outreach on the Boardwalk.  He was a junior in high school and I was in 8th grade.  We both were baptized in the Pacific Ocean that year.  He became my mentor the following year.  I can't believe that was almost twenty years ago.  He was my ride to church and to the Lighthouse (high school youth group).  Life with Marc was an adventure.  I learned how to water ski behind his parent's boat at Frenchmen's Lake, experienced crazy icing adventures down the steeps of my high school (these hills were no joke, our friend Dave F. broke his leg), pranks documented with his parent's video camera, bailing hay at his parents ranch in Doyle, horse back riding for the first time on "Flare", fixing the Thunderbird when the drive shaft broke, and taking his parent's army jeep for a cruise in the mountains under the moonlight just to name a few.  I will never forget our last run down the Wall at Kirkwood.  That was the last time I skied with Marc.  We were in Tahoe for a church ski trip.  The conditions were sketchy and icy towards the top.  We looked at each other and said one more time!  After the run, we gave each other high fives and called it a day.    Photos Above   Marc and friends at New Brighton Beach, Santa Cruz 1988 Before Marc's first year at Stanford, he and Max drove across the country in a piece of junk VW Rabbit.  He sent me this self portrait post card of himself writing the post card somewhere in the middle of no where.  Marc and I during one of our holiday morning prayers.  Marc would typically organize morning prayers with out of town friends prior to the holiday madness.   After Marc's first year at Stanford, he came back with a different view of the world.  Marc was the first person to teach me about political correctness and that I was not a lamp or a carpet and that I was supposed to be referred to as Asian.  Most of my life I had been referred to as oriental.  I was fascinated by the "World Wide Web" and created my first email account at UNR just to be able to communicate with him.  He taught me a lot about computers and would let me play on his Macintosh.  I came to visit Marc a few times while he was at Stanford.  I fell in love with Palo Alto immediately.  He took me running at the dish, we had breakfast at Hobee's (duuuuude, you have to order the coffee cake), chucked paper wads at people at Flicks, taught me how to under hand throw a frisbee (huge ultimate frisbee freak) danced the night away during Stanford Centennial in '91.  Marc's friends would ask what year I was and I would tell them that I was a junior….pause..…in high school.  As I am reminiscing about Marc's college years, a memory comes to mind of him dressing up as a homeless person for a protest and pouring Tabasco sauce on himself to accelerate a homeless scent.  He probably smelled like buffalo wings.   Fast forward to 1999, I moved to Palo Alto for six months before I moved to the city.  I was reunited with Marc and Amy.  One of the first evenings I spent with them, they took me aside and prayed for me.  I will never forget that moment.    The last time I interacted with Marc was when we added each other on Facebook a couple months ago and I told him about the tour I gave my girlfriend at the time, now fiancé of the old hood in Sparks this past Thanksgiving.  Next week is Mac World.  We would often hook up for lunch while he was here for this event.  I was looking forward to sharing my big news of my engagement with him.  I will miss my older brother, mentor and friend.  This is a big loss and my heart goes out to Amy, friends and family.   Love,   David Kim San Francisco, CA