Remembering Michael D. Fecina

I was alerted to some sad and unexpected news late Friday, my best friend from college Michael Fecina passed away on Wednesday.  There is not much to say when one discovers news of this nature other than to sit and ponder or to scream out loud or to tear up. Perhaps my situation was exacerbated by the fact that I had just spoken to Mike the week before, on Thursday to be specific and was shocked and confused by the proverbial sledge hammer that dropped on my head.   To further complicate the situation we have not spoken on the phone for about two years and yet we had an hour long conversation 5 days before his passing. Such is life I suppose, went from best friend to barely speaking - yet Mike quickly remarked in our conversation how amazingly comfortable it felt.  See, we could go for years without speaking and then pick up right where we left of, sometimes one is just lucky to form such relationships and this is exactly how our friendship started.

We met our sophomore year in Penn State, in our computer science class.  The friendship began by happenstance, we were individually assigned a rather difficult project and I did not know anyone in the class.  I somehow got his screen name and sent him my application that I was writing.  I had no motivation for doing so, just wanted to make some new friends.  He did not respond for a few days, but he found me later after class and was excited to speak to me.  We already turned in our projects by then and he took some time to explore what I sent him.  What I did not know then, was that Mike was already considered to be a brilliant mind and my actions of sending my program to him were rather common, except that most people would send their applications for assistance while I just sent mine to ask for his opinion.  He was surprised by that reason alone, after all, he grew accustomed to having people ask for help and this was new and refreshing.  In the next few months we spent a lot of time together and get to know each other pretty well.   I must say, it was an unusual friendship between an introverted Russian kid from Boston and a kid from Northeast PA.  There was nothing similar between us at first glance, yet we understood each other perfectly.  This understanding never went away, even when our communication dwindled to just a few phone conversations a year.

We decided to live together our junior year and it was then that I discovered Mike's brilliance.  I always had a hunch, but it became quite apparent that we were dealing with something out of the ordinary.  A perfect example took place during one of the few times when my parents visited.  My dad was always and still is a great indicator of these things, because the number of people he would actually praise in terms of intelligence can be counted on one hand.  Just one.  Mike was working on a project for a course he was taking as part of the Honors program and had a few questions to discuss with my dad, I don't know the details of whether anything was accomplished during the conversation, but the conclusions were amusing.  First, Mike came up to me and told me that my dad was a genius.  That in it of itself was amusing to hear because Mike did not dispense the "genius" label liberally if you catch my drift and while speaking on the phone with my dad a few days later the favor was returned.  Not that I was necessarily surprised, I already knew, but to hear my dad dispense such praise was amazing.   Oddly enough, Mike always oscillated between two polarizing extremes when it came to his self esteem.  Often times I would argue with him regarding his own potential as he would grumble about not being "smart enough" or "leaving college and going back home because he was not good enough".  Yet at other times he would proudly state that there was nothing he cannot accomplish in this world and that he was desperately seeking people as smart as he was, a sentiment I happened to agree with.   Over the course of several years, indeed, there was hardly anything he failed to accomplish, including academic work that I would not dare touch with a 10 foot pole.  Yet Mike did it and most of the time he did it for fun, he would literally take 500-600 level courses just to prove to himself that he *could*.  Yes, he could and he did.  Amazing to say the least.

Yet there was much more to him than his mind.  He loved what life had to offer and let me tell you, there are not a lot of engineers in this world that can write a C++ program while literally pounding down an entire case of beer.   He could party with the best of them and study with the smartest of them.   His laugh was contagious, a deep rolling laughter that if properly triggered would practically seize him and render his entire body useless for minutes at a time - a most wonderful sight and one that I would be eager to cause any opportunity I could get.   He was, again, unlike a typical engineer built like a rock, had amazing strength and loved to push himself.  He would often recall fondly his days at the quarry where he would haul gigantic rocks the size of people and considered that to be fun.  Most of us would think that this is the equivalent of slave labor, but Mike got a kick out of using his natural abilities and whether that was his body or his mind - it mattered not.   His quirks were charming and further promoted his uniqueness, whether it was his perplexing hate of fresh tomatoes or his equally odd love for Rocky and Sylvester Stallone or even the humming that would emerge during his deepest of thoughts, it all combined for a very special person.  But, of course...there is always a catch in this life of ours.

As Mike told me on Thursday during our conversation, the past several years were no picnic.  As it turns out, this blessed individual for all his intelligence, strength and love of life was also battling cancer.  A fact that he only decided to share with me after so many years, because he simply did not want people feeling sorry for him.  Cancer attacked him twice causing Mike much anguish and pain and while he neglected to go into details, suffice it to say that years of surgery and chemotherapy took their toll.  Despite his freakish strength he had to live with excruciating pain and ultimately decided to quit his job at Lockheed Martin (where he finally felt challenged while being surrounded by brilliant people) and move back home.   Yet despite all the setbacks, financial bills and continued pain he had grand plans.  He was in control of his pain medication, was once again looking for jobs and sending out resumes and was making plans for his special someone.   He seemed happy and ambitious, until his life was suddenly cut short just a few days later.

People like Mike are rare, I am not saying that now, I have always said that - they are rare and very precious.   Society and humanity as a whole is quantitatively and objectively worse off from this loss.  How can a person with such gifts be also stricken with such pain and suffering, it is truly a most cruel and unjust fate.  As simple and infantile as that may sound, it is just simply unfair.  My deepest sympathies to Mike's parents, brothers and girlfriend.

Rest in peace my friend, you will always be remembered.

Your friend,
Arkady