Coming to terms with world without Courtney is heartbreaking.
I met him my sophomore year of high school when I joined the Panther Prowler student newspaper. For the next three years, he was a constant support and joy in my life.
He was funny, incredibly intelligent, a talented journalist, and so unabashedly himself. I can still clearly picture him walking into the newsroom in his typical uniform: a T-shirt featuring a clever pun, shorts and flip flops (weather was nearly irrelevant). He helped me learn InDesign and studied Spanish with me during breaks. He had great taste in fonts. If I had a problem, he would come up with a solution. He taught me just how powerful it can be to trust in your own abilities and dive in to whatever challenges you face.
He didn't take himself too seriously. During one Panther Prowler banquet, he let me doodle a Sharpie "tattoo" on his knee, just because. I drew a sunset. I asked him if he wanted to be my platonic "date" to prom senior year, but he couldn't make it because he had already organized an "alternative prom/anti-prom" event. I still laugh about that — it was just so quintessentially him. We did a version of "paper plate" awards for the Prowler, and my co-editor in chief and I gave Courtney the "Gotham" award. He liked the font, and, as we only half-joked, he was the hero Gotham and our staff deserved. Even when it seemed like everything was going wrong, we could always count on Courtney.
He was one of those people who seemed to do everything and make it look easy: he played an integral role at the newspaper, took a full high-level class schedule, did internships, earned his Eagle Scout award and did many other things I probably didn't even know about. Courtney gave me faith that the world would be okay, because I knew that he would do great things wherever he landed. And he did.
Over the years as we both went to college and moved to different cities we talked less, but we'd check in with each other on our shared birthday (he is one year younger than me, though you'd never know it). I can't begin to express how much I will miss those texts.
Rest in peace, Courtney. I'm so incredibly grateful to have known you.
– Cassie Stephenson
