It has always been easy for me to write op-eds, but my heart sank in sadness upon hearing the news of Mike Maybroda’s tragic death. Now, my pen is shaky and my tears are ample.This comes from the heart, not the mouth. Like all of you, I feel the pain of the WCU student body because last week, we lost one of our best: a cheerful fellow and, to those who knew him, a great friend and brother.
Many of you knew Mike, and many of you did not. He was an RA in Goshen Hall and the Village Apartments. Some of you knew him from the Homecoming Committee or WCU-TV; after all, he was very involved. As for myself, I knew him as a brother in the Friars’ Society. Along with eight other fine men, some of them now alumni of WCU, Mike and I were candidates for this great organization. I came in with Mike and the rest of the class in the spring semester of 2003. Mike and I weren’t the closest of friends, but there was that bond of brotherhood ever since I became a Friar. I spent the next two years getting to know Mike for the person he was. The love he had in his heart was magnificent, and we were all touched by it in many ways, as was WCU as an institution.
Once, I was in the Friars’ Society Office putting together an alumni newsletter. Because WCU Friars have strong bonds with their alumni, this is a relatively big deal. The door was open and Mike, wearing sunglasses and smiles, rolled on in. Maybroda (we all called him by his last name) came up and said, “‘Sup Maalouf…” and I told him that was I stressing out over a newsletter because I was taking much longer to finish it than I had expected. As if he couldn’t look happier, Mike just smiled ear-to-ear, sat himself down in a chair and said to me, “See, that’s what you got to stop doing: worrying. It isn’t healthy for you. Don’t worry; just keep on going. Play on, playa.”
Sometimes it would seem that every other word Mike used was “playa,” but we all loved it. Mike’s smile could erase even the gloomiest of feelings, as it did mine that day. His advice had always been good: sometimes you just have to stop and smell those roses before they’re gone. Live life. Mike loved it, and honestly, life loved him back. He was always smiling. While he made his mistakes, as we all do, he was also a positive influence and a light to shine for the rest of us.
To those who did not know Mike, now you do, at least from one individual. Now you know how he loved life and loved people, and now you know why we all loved him so very much. He was an outstanding human being.
While I hope I can leave you with those understandings, I’ll never quite comprehend why God called him home so quickly, but I do know that his impact on all of us is a strong one. It hasn’t even been that long, and already, like many others, I miss him. But those of us who knew him are all left with memories and a piece of him in our hearts. He will not be forgotten, but always remembered. I’ll never forget what he told me in the office that day, and I think his advice can apply to all of us in this situation as for what to do next. “Don’t worry, just keep on going. Play on, playa.”
Anthony Maalouf is a junior majoring in political science with a minor in Spanish.