Julien D’Avanzo didn’t care about schoolwork all
that much. He didn’t always pay his fraternity dues. And
he’d often skip sleep on a school night to chat with a
floormate.
But those who love the third-year history student say that more
than anyone else they knew, D’Avanzo had his priorities
straight in life.
Julien kept his friends for life, even the ones from
kindergarten, said D’Avanzo’s mother, Kathleen.
“If you were a friend of his, you were a friend for
life,” she said.
D’Avanzo, 20, died early Thursday morning after falling
from a third-floor balcony in Saxon Suites.
Russel Hess, one of D’Avanzo’s best friends, said
the third-year was always there for him.
Last year, Hess, a second-year Russian studies and history
student, was set on living on the third floor of Rieber Hall, where
D’Avanzo was a resident assistant.
When the floor filled to capacity, leaving Hess to live
somewhere else, D’Avanzo was quick with a solution.
“He said if you ever need to, just sleep on my
floor,” Hess said.
So, with sleeping bag in tow, Hess slept on
D’Avanzo’s floor for months. And when D’Avanzo
would come home to his guest asleep on his bed some nights,
he’d take the floor.
“He’s always got my back,” Hess added.
Though D’Avanzo was known as a free spirit, his friends
said he took the responsibilities he cared about seriously and
rarely missed a chance to get involved.
“He had so much to give. There was so much
potential,” his mother said.
Along with his role as a Rieber Hall resident assistant,
D’Avanzo was a candidate in the current Undergraduate
Students Association Council election, for the position of external
vice president.
And he actively participated at his fraternity, said David
Bresler, Sigma Pi president and second-year undeclared student.
Earlier this week, when D’Avanzo coached his
fraternity’s water polo match, floormate Peter Gjerset got a
quick peek at his RA’s strategy sheet. On his clipboard,
Gjerset said, were two bullet points: “don’t
lose” and “win.”
Though D’Avanzo’s friends say the 20-year-old rarely
took life too seriously, it wasn’t uncommon to catch him up
at ungodly hours discussing philosophy and life in the hall or
study lounge.
“It was almost unavoidable to not talk about these things
when you were hanging out with him,” Magana said. “He
has something interesting to say about everything. He made
everything an experience.”
D’Avanzo’s mother compared her son’s life to a
line from Henry David Thoreau’s “Walden.”
“He marched to his own drummer,” she said.
He was known for being unique, with an eclectic sense of
style.
He never wore a tuxedo to high school dances, opting instead for
the wackiest formal wear he could find at local thrift shops, his
mother said.
“On Halloween, he dressed as a box,” she added,
taking a moment afterwards to compose herself.
Magana said his individuality stood in stark contrast to many of
his other friends at UCLA, a place where friendship and fun often
take a backseat to grade point average and career goals.
“I see people into their future, pre-med or whatever.
Julien didn’t abide by that,” he said. “Not that
he didn’t care. He just had different priorities.”
Many of D’Avanzo’s loved ones have decided mourning
his untimely death would be inappropriate.
There are no plans for a traditional funeral, his mother
said.
“It’s going to be a celebration of life,” she
said.
But as much as they’d like to celebrate instead of mourn,
many of D’Avanzo’s friends said they couldn’t
help but hurt.
On Thursday afternoon, D’Avanzo’s floor in Rieber
Hall was eerily quiet, and those who came and went looked almost
lost.
Second-year history and English student Peter Gjerset sat in his
dorm room with his guitar, strumming away, fighting off tears as he
remembered his friend.
“Julien just had love for everyone,” Gjerset said.
“He left an amazing impact on the world. It’s a tragedy
he couldn’t do more.”