Marlene Woods' poignant article (Editorial Pages, March 29) on her brother's murder closely echoes my feelings on the murder of my friend David Huffman in February. At first there was disbelief, then shock, sadness, and anger followed by incredible sorrow. My entire family could not believe that David was dead.
Like Woods' brother, David was stabbed, not by an acquaintance, but by an unknown assailant as he attempted to disrupt a burglary. That this individual could end such a meaningful life with two quick thrusts of a screwdriver was incomprehensible. It could almost render all that came before it meaningless, if we let it.
That is why I prefer not to dwell on how David died, but how he lived. His was an active live, one filled with hope, joy and love. His love for his wife was the constant that helped generate and nurture his tremendous skill as an actor. His love for his two young sons could be seen on his face whenever he was with them, and he was with them as often as possible. His love for his friends and his fellow man could be seen in his thoughtfulness and his selflessness. He was an incredibly good man. Perhaps that was his only flaw, for it was his goodness and selflessness that brought on his demise.