Friday night, the last night of Mike Costa’s short life, was the first time I realized just how much Mike brought to the Northeastern ski team.

Mike was having what he described as one of the worst weeks of his life. You never would have guessed that, though. His eyes were bright, his smile contagious and he described his week’s misfortunes with unflappable spirit and uproarious humor. To hear him talk, I was pretty sure he was bulletproof. In spite of everything with which life had tried to knock him down that week, he wouldn’t be deterred from laughing it off and having a good time, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to make sure everyone else did too.

When I first started to get to know Mike I was amazed by how laid back he would be in any situation. On the surface this trait presented him as introverted, even guarded, but it didn’t take long to realize he never meant to impede anyone from getting to know him. On the contrary, he was open and unprejudiced to all those he met. He had no selfish notions, no alterior motives and was generous and gracious in his own special way to everyone he encountered.

At first, Mike was a smiling face in a room full of strangers who laughed and joked and always made wherever he was a more comfortable place to be. As we all became closer, he had a presence that we always wanted to be near.

Gradually he opened up to each of us and his jokes became funnier, his smile became warmer and his friendship became indispensable. We learned that his big, bright grin could be matched in magnitude only by the depth of his personality.

We also discovered Mike’s passion for skiing and criminal justice (“I want to become a cop so I can keep kids like me off the streets,” he often joked). It wasn’t always easy to read his motivations and desires because he was never showy or boastful, but it became apparent through his weekly devotion to the team just how much he loved to ski and how badly he was driven to improve himself as a racer. He was there every weekend, and always gave himself to the team on and off the mountain. And though he improved his skills drastically over the course of the season, he never paused too long to celebrate his triumphs or lament his defeats.

I can’t say I got to know Mike as well as I would have wanted but I know enough to earnestly believe that we are all lucky to have had him in our lives. He was quietly proud and self-aware, yet blessed with a gift of emotional stability and the uncanny strength of never being rattled by anything. In life he helped forge a special bond with his teammates and though it should never have happened like this, this tragedy has only strengthened that bond as well as teaching us all about the important things in life. Mike was a wonderful person who lived life the way he wanted to live. He will truly be missed by us all.

— Karl Cyr is a senior computer science major .