Deceased February 4, 2017
If someone had told me on that warm, sunny day in September 1977 that 40 years later I’d be writing a remembrance for the freshman roommate I had just met, well…
I met Mike for the first time in our room in James. He and I became fast friends—a rarity for me. After the parents were off, we spent the rest of the day exploring the campus and comparing the experiences, interests and aspirations we shared. We were catchers on our high school baseball teams, were planning to play on college teams (hockey for him, football for me), had girlfriends named Cindy and were interested in history and politics and in pursuing legal careers.
There were differences, of course. I liked beer, he preferred orange soda. He liked poker, I preferred backgammon. He could play the piano, I was tone deaf. Mostly, he was as warm, engaging and enthusiastic a fellow as I had ever met. Mike made an impression.
Our paths diverged sophomore year when Mike moved off campus (love!) and then got married between junior and senior years.
Then came law school. We went to Boston College following graduation, were moot court partners, worked a summer in the same law firm, shared an apartment and worked off our rent by building a not insubstantial barn. Did I mention Mike knew carpentry?
After law school, I found my way to Vermont and Mike, after a few years in Worcester, Mass., found his way back home to Illinois working with his grandfather, and then his father and siblings, all lawyers. He was skilled, successful and prominent among his peers.
Picturing Mike on that warm, sunny September day when we first met, when so much lay ahead and seemed possible and attainable, is how I always will remember him.
John Evers ’81