AMY'S HOMEPAGE
BRIAN LANCE BOSART

February 13, 1974-May 29, 2000





A Long Time Ago...


In graduate school, I had an officemate named Brian, aka Boz to his close friends. We actually shared an office with two other graduate students, there were a total of four of us, two space physicists and two atmospheric scientists. I was in the space physics camp while Brian was an atmoshperic scientist. The spacious office was split into two areas by cubicle walls that didn't quite reached the ceiling. My fellow space physicist and I were on one side, Brian and his fellow colleague were on the other side. In a "common" area, we had a futon for hanging out.

Our respective research kept us pretty much working on our own. But occasionally, just to keep me on my toes, Brian would bounce a spiky rubber toy onto the ceiling so that it would land on my head on the other side of the partition. You see, Brian's desk was right next to mine on the other side of the cubicle wall. I would hear him chuckle as I let out a scream. We had a blast in that little graduate student office.

Outside of the office, Brian and I became good friends. When I ended a relationship and lamented to him that I didn't have friends of my own, he told me that he was my friend. I'll never forget that moment. Brian was game for anything, we had some fun times. He wanted to sneak into center court at UCLA and play tennis there. So we did exactly that! When I had to stay out of my apartment for a night because it was getting tented for termites, Brian and his friend hung out with me and my roommate most of the night running around Westwood Village in a pouring rainstorm. When he found out that I love lobsters, he took me to the Lobster Festival in San Pedro.

Brian never let little things get to him. He taught me to focus on only the important things in life.









It Struck Me Every Day


"It struck me every day
The lightning was as new
As if the cloud that instant slit

And let the fire through.

It burned me in the night,
It blistered in my dream;
It sickened fresh upon my sight

With every morning's beam.

I thought that storm was brief,--
The maddest, quickest by;
But Nature lost the date of this,
And left it in the sky.

-Emily Dickinson
Brian's family with his Ph.D. hood in hand. June 15, 2001