When Karen told me Greg was dead I said you’re kidding and, of course, she said Uh, no, I’m not, why would I be kidding? But that was my first reaction because I couldn’t understand how someone who was so alive could possibly be dead.

And then the memories came, and there were a lot of them, and I’m sure a lot of people have a lot of memories about Greg, because if nothing else he was a very memorable person.

I remembered the time we were hitchhiking from Kenyon down to Columbus for a Patti Smith concert. It started raining and there we were in the middle of Ohio farmland nowhere, me with my thumb out and Greg sitting under a tree. Finally a car came, a salesman type in a big empty car who whizzed past us with a sneer, and my thumb turned into a finger. The guy jammed on his brakes, did a u-turn, drove back and shouted Hey asshole, don’t ever flip a guy the bird.

Yeah, well don’t ever pass up a hitchhiker in the rain, I said.

Screw you, the guy said, and just then Greg stood up from under the tree behind me and I’ll never forget the look on his face as this huge form rose up and began to saunter over. The guy frantically cranked up his window and hammered down the door lock.

You got some kind of a problem? Greg asked.

You still shouldn’t flip a guy the bird, the guy squeaked weakly, then did another quick u-turn and sped down the road as Greg and I saluted him, middle fingers extended. And of course we were saying You still shouldn’t flip a guy the bird for months.

And that was Greg. When you were with him you felt like you were safe, that everything would be cool, that no matter how crazy the adventure got, things would work out. He loved adventure and he brought it with him everywhere he went, and I know that the adventure he’s on right now, even though it didn’t start out too well, is going to turn out O.K., too.