Adam was one of the most inspiring people I have known in my lifetime. From the first time I met him (back in 2006) it was apparent that he was the type to make the most out of every moment of his life. At the time, I had a job that started at 6am, so I would start my running intervals at 4:30am. I sent out an email to the Volcano Triathlon Team asking for people to join me, but not really believing anyone would show up.
Adam was there the very next morning with no sleep in his eyes and no signs of grogginess. He showed up at the base of this massive 18% grade hill near Diamond Head Crater and said, “So how many times we running up it?” We were instantly friends. Hanging out with Adam was like acting with an improv group, you never knew what was coming next, but you could expect it to make you smile. He had an infectious personality that just made everyone around him want to join in on the fun. It could be 10pm trips to a driving range, sneaking into Hanauma Bay to take pictures of ourselves snorkeling, or unplanned social outings to meet David Hasselhoff on Christmas Eve. In the two weeks I stayed with Adam and his father last winter I remember several sudden U-turns in the mini-van so we could follow one of Adam’s whims.
Adam’s biography would be much better written by someone who knew him longer, but from our short time together I knew Adam made the most out of life. He moved to Honolulu right after High School and was charged with the task of figuring out his own life. He worked as a caddie at the Waialae Country Club, sold vacation rentals around Oahu, went to school and managed to spread laughter to everyone that shared in his presence. Last year he started school in China after spending most of 2007 working in Shanghai and learning Chinese. It seemed to me that no matter what happened, I could count on Adam to land on his feet, turn water into wine, make a sow’s ears into a silk purse, find the silver lining, and turn my frown upside down.
[Above: Adam Havrilak, Ben Collins, and Bob Havrilak]
There was not an ounce of shyness in Adam’s blood. He could make a conversation in a room of strangers, or make a silent crowd clutch their stomachs from laughter. There was a twinkle of adventure in his eyes and it made life more fun for everyone around him.
Adam, we will miss you dearly. As our friend, our brother, our son; thank you for the memories.