Kendall and I met during college and began dating on July 16, 2013. From the very start, he made me laugh and feel completely loved he was the kindest soul I had ever met. A few years later, on July 26, 2016, he got down on one knee at the 50-yard line of the Notre Dame football field and proposed. We were both huge fans, so it was the perfect moment. We planned our wedding for September 29, 2018, after dating for four and a half wonderful years. I was eager to begin our life as a couple.
But on November 10, 2017, everything changed.
We had originally planned to meet our wedding DJ that night but chose instead to cook dinner together and relax at his place. I left a little early to make dessert for my family’s Thanksgiving celebration and, as always, texted Kendall once I got home safely. He replied, asking how it was going. I texted back but never heard from him again.
At 10:05 p.m., just as I was heading to bed, the house phone rang. I heard my dad’s voice shaky, saying, “He didn’t make it,” while my mom sobbed. I thought it was my sister who was pregnant until they told me. Kendall was gone. I collapsed, numb and disoriented.
Kendall, a volunteer firefighter, had received a call shortly after I left. There was a minor accident near his house. Wanting to help, he responded, like he always did. While getting his gear from the backseat of his car, another vehicle driven by a fellow firefighter under the influence struck and killed him instantly.
He died at 10:00 p.m.
He was my best friend, my soulmate someone who never knew a stranger and always put others first. On what should have been our wedding day, I wore my dress and took tribute photos with Kendall’s fire gear, his boots, and his beloved dog by his grave. Surrounded by friends and family, it was painful yet meaningful.
Later, a dear friend and I arranged a memorial 5K. Held on June 9, 2018, it raised over $20,000 supporting his fire department and a scholarship fund in his name. Every kindergartner at Barr-Reeve receives $100 toward their college fund Kendall’s niece was the first recipient.
He served as a coach, a guide, a caring son and sibling. He cherished his family and felt a sense of pride in each role uncle, teammate, and community volunteer. His grin had the power to brighten any space, and his heart was one of a kind. He improved the world just by existing in it
Though I carry the weight of his absence every day, I also carry the honor of having loved someone like him. His story doesn’t end with loss it lives on through kindness, community, and every life he touched
