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He walked by my home for two years, going to and from school. His long blond hair, his white plastic-frame sunglasses, his hoodie, his ear buds in, as he listened to music. (I later learned reading his obituary that he loved music.)

I always thought when I saw him that he looked like he belonged in Southern California. One weekend last April, he walked out into the desert and ended his life with a gun. He would have graduated this May. He should have been preparing to go to college. In that moment of desperation, in the desert, he carried through the unimaginable.

Reacting shows support for gun violence survivors.