Since last Wednesday, students at the University and other institutions across the nation have been mourning the death of 19-year-old Zachary Brunt. A graduate of Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology and an engineering student at Yale, Zach was a scientist and musician whose long, curly hair and eccentric dance moves were just a couple of the many qualities which distinguished him from his peers.
I was in Zach's graduating class. I witnessed the dance moves, the hair and the trademark neon orange sweatshirt with duct tape reflectors on it. Although I was not a good friend of his, I was well aware of his stunning personality. More so, however, I knew him as the kid everybody liked without him ever having to try.
That was why for me, and for hundreds of others, the news of a suicide came as a complete shock.
Though we never had a class together at school, I took an SAT Prep course with Zach in the winter of my junior year. The course was catered toward Jefferson students who already had considerable experience with standardized testing and were deemed "smart" by these standards, but Zach was the sharpest one there by a long shot. While others - including myself - would offer mediocre examples to include in essay outlines about why "the pen was mightier than the sword," Zach was always able to add a valuable insight he had acquired from outside of school.
His talents were obvious, and so was his intellect and curiosity. We would reference "Animal Farm"; Zach would reference an ancient South American war which none of us had ever heard of, much less read up on. Since then, when I thought Zach Brunt, I thought of the Renaissance man whose knowledge had no literal bounds.
Zach was not just a good student, but a great friend as well. First-year College student Elizabeth Herbst recalls how Zach offered to drive her to school every morning so she would not have to go through the embarrassment of taking the bus and would listen to both rap and opera music on the way. "Every morning, when I was cranky and tired, I'd have to get in this car with Zach, where he'd be blasting this - this profanity," Herbst said at a memorial service held at the University Thursday. "But I did it, and it was fine, because it was him."
Others talked about how Zach never failed to put a smile on their faces. "He kind of reminded me of the sun, with the hair and the bright clothes..." said first-year Engineering student Richard Garrett. "The memories I made with Zach - these are the kinds of memories that I will always go back to from my TJ experience."
What was most devastating to me is that in spite of his skills, and in spite of the memories, Zach's loved ones will not get to see the person he was going to become. When something like this happens to anyone, it is easy to remember the smiles, the laughs and the cheerful moments. Those things, however, can be looked back upon, while Zach's contribution to humanity cannot. Zach had real talents and was the owner of an invaluable mind which would have undoubtedly impacted our lives beyond just putting smiles on our faces. When Zach was accepted to Yale, most people were congratulating him with phrases like "Good for Zach."
But I remember thinking, "Good for Yale."
Since last Wednesday, I wish I had said that out loud. It is impossible to know what Zach's final thoughts were, and his death is an extreme loss for the Yale community and for society as a whole.
The University is full of talent like Zach's, and though it may be hard sometimes, it is important for everyone to recognize his own full potential. We mourned the loss of Zach because he was an extraordinary person, but looking around Grounds, I would say the same thing about most of the people I've met here during the course of the school year. The topic of untimely death is difficult precisely because it could happen to anyone, and students are often an overlooked demographic. We can throw around terms such as "impact" and "laughter" in retrospect, but these phrases are not sufficient to express a loss as monumental as a human life and only clear a conscience for so long.
It would be ambitious and cruel to suggest a different course of action given the strong emotions people undergo in the event of a loss, however I do believe basic communication could make a world's difference in the prevention of suicide. It might sound like a cliche, but there have been too many instances like this one, where people come to appreciate something once it is gone and are left to wonder how the loss will affect their future and the futures of others. If words have the power to bring about tears, then surely they have the power to prevent them. And if we have the means to feel remorse for a loss, then we are more than able to be thankful beforehand. While we will never know if Zach's death could have been prevented, we can certainly learn from the principles by which he lived. No one should lead a life thinking he or she is insignificant or undeserving, because in the words of Zachary Brunt, "Life's too short to be afraid."
Denise Taylor's column appears Tuesdays in The Cavalier Daily. She can be reached at d.taylor@cavalierdaily.com.