Andrew was our nephew, but my husband Dan and I always thought of him as "our son who lives away from home." To our son, Zack, Andrew was a brother. Zack and Andrew were just one month apart in age. Andrew was known and loved for his humor and originality and generosity. Zack said that of all his friends (and Zack has more friends than anyone I know), Andrew was the one most likely to get along with everyone. Each of Andrew’s visits to our tiny town of Hastings-on-Hudson, NY, was the occasion for a celebration by his dozens of friends. After the 9/11 tragedy, Andrew, who had been working all summer as a minimum-wage grocery bagger, contributed $100 to the Salvation Army. When his mother took him shopping for shoes, he would reject pairs that were too expensive. Even in his pre-high school days, he was looking into college educations that would either be free or very low cost. Andrew’s goal was a life of public service – he was interested in joining the State Department or possibly becoming a U.S. congressional representative. Andrew also engaged in hilariously less lofty interests – he was an expert on “The Simpsons” and could knew everything about any episode. We encouraged Andrew to start a Simpsons club at Trinity College, where he was a sophomore. There is so much more to say about Andrew and his strange, terrible, and, most tragic of all – avoidable – violent death at the age of 19, fatally shot in his own kitchen by an uninformed policeman in the first hour of Christmas Day, 2004. If you visit here and knew and loved Andrew, or if you know anything more about what happened on that terrible Christmas Eve in Lowell, Massachusetts, please don't hesitate to contact me: judith@jcgreenburg.net Andrew, wherever you are, Dan and I and Zack think of you every day and we love you forever and always.