Ski trip with the Webers: Kristen, Rick Weber, Erik, Manfred Weber, Brian Weber (Dad took the photo) - New Hampshire 1984
 
Brian Weber, Erik's best friend, got a good way through his speech. For the benefit of those there and those not there, here's the entire speech:

Hello everyone! I was going to start out with a big joke, by Andy Reid, the coach of the Eagles declined the invitation…I think he had an appointment with a dozen donuts or something! So I'll start out on my own.

One day my Mom said, "I want you to meet someone." I was shy, but okay with it. She drove, and Erik and me sat in the back. Sorry, Mom, Erik and I. He just started asking me my name and how old I was. I think I was five. He was very friendly. I felt like I had known him for twenty years. Eventually, I would know him for twenty years.

We got along well together. We loved sports and eventually played on the same team together in tee ball. He would ask me why I wear jeans in the middle of the summer and I would ask him why he wears a glove big enough to use as a sleeping bag. I think he said his Dad found it in a field and that it was broken in really good and when the ball would hit the glove, the glove would shut. He never cared about how it looked; his old, oversized, worn out glove. I learned that things aren't bad because they're old or cost less and [I also learned] you shouldn't let what other people think change your style. I liked that about Erik.

I met Erik's sister, Kristen. She said [that] we were weird. That was cool! One day she even told me that I was as weird as Erik. I guess I gained respect for her with all [of] those complimentary viewpoints that she would share over time. I got to meet Erik's Dad. He was great…because he was crazy like Erik and I! He would tell funny jokes and fool around. I think that's where Erik got his humor…and his dancing ability. I've seen Erik at clubs and I was privileged to see Mr. Halvorsen dance at my wedding!

I liked Erik's humor. He told this great joke at "Wing Night", that he made up one time, but before I tell it, you have to learn the "Wing Night" "Tea-Pot"! All of you, wing-nighters, don't act all high and mighty like you've never done it or don't know what I'm talking about! When someone says something funny at wing night, everyone puts their right hand up at a 90 degree angle to simulate the mouth of the tea-pot and a high five. Then they put their left hand down and behind them to represent the handle of the tea pot and the "receiving end" hand of the high five. Then we would all tilt and exchange high/low fives! Now I want everyone to practice… yes, even you, who are reading this now… I didn't retype this for nothing!! After I tell the joke, I'm going to say "Tea-pot" and then everyone should tea-pot. So here's the joke:

Every day, Mr. Jones drove to work, over a windy road, through a tunnel, out the other side, and straight over the rest of the hill to work.
One day, at the water cooler, one of his female co-workers said, "You know, we all come to work form the same direction, why don't we all drive together and save ourselves some trouble." Mr. Jones and his other co-workers thought that was a good idea. They tried it the next day. The woman, who came up with the idea, drove first, because she knew that the driver had to wake up early and pick everyone up and since it was her idea, she would do that first. She picked up Mr. Jones and the other 2 workers and drove up the windy road, but as they started to approach the tunnel, Mr. Jones began to get a queasy felling in his stomach and he started to tense up really bad. The woman drove through the tunnel, they came out from the other side and (P.S. it is illegal to skim through this joke…so don't even try it!) when they came out of the other side of the tunnel, Mr. Jones was able to relax again. He felt fine the rest of the way to work and had a great day at work.
The next day, it was Mr. Jones turn to drive. He figured that since that "broad" wasn't driving, he wouldn't get that queasy felling in his stomach and he would be fine on his way to work. So Mr. Jones picked up the woman and the other 2 workers and drove up the windy road. He started to feel really queasy again… his stomach was in knots..it got worse and worse as he approached the tunnel. Finally he got to the tunnel, drove through and made it out on the other side. He was sweating really bad, but he calmed himself down on the straight road that led to his work. Once again, Mr. Jones made it through the work day. The next day, the next worker drove. The trend continued; at the mere sight of the tunnel, Mr. Jones would tense up and get sick to his stomach. However, some days, the driver of the day would be sick and everyone would have to drive himself or herself to work. On those days, Mr. Jones would be fine going up the windy road, through the tunnel and over the hill to work.
One day, when everyone was in the car together again, as they were approaching the tunnel, Mr. Jones became so sick, that he had to have the driver pull over and drive him back home. That day, Mr. Jones went to see a psychiatrist. Mr. Jones told the psychiatrist the whole story, about how some days, he would drive by himself and go through the tunnel without a problem and on other days, when he drove with his co-workers, he would become very sick at the sight of the tunnel. The psychiatrist nodded at Mr. Jones and spun his chair away from the desk and Mr. Jones, toward the huge window that stood behind. Then the psychiatrist spun back around from the window, tapped his pencil on his desk and said, " I know what your problem is… Mr. Jones, what you have is a classic case of Car-Pool-Tunnel Syndrome."

TEA POT!

I told this joke as part of a five-day series in the school that I student taught, and the teachers loved it. But I told them I made it up myself! I only told my co-op that it was Erik's joke.

Erik read a lot. I think his Mom always had a book in her hand. I know she was the smart one! When everyone would get too silly, she would settle things down, but she wouldn't call us weirdoes, but that was all right… she was neat anyway. I became a big fan of Erik's vocabulary. Instead of using his intelligence to become loquacious, he would make sharp concise statements that would sail at you like a Nolan Ryan fastball. One day, when we were starting to play street hockey in the middle school, there was glass on the pavement, which no one seemed to care about. "Oh great," he said, "why don't we just play on shards of glass!" I always registered his comments and listened, because to me, everything that he said was interesting, even when he was upset. One time, he didn't feel like talking on the way to the Phillies game. So I decided [that] I'd talk about every subject under the sun until I solicited a response from him…I was successful. About twenty minutes into my monologue, he said, "Could we drop the mindless prattle". I could've taken it as an insult, but we were good like that. I thought, "That's a really neat way to put that…I hope I can use that one day". And here I am. And then there was the time when his computer baseball team lost a sloppy game…"Simply an anemic game," he muttered without emotion. Adam and I still use that quote when we're a part of a team that has just exhibited a lack-luster performance.

My brother loved how witty and intelligent Erik was. He always admired Erik, even though Erik was two years younger. My cousin, Anthony, looked at Erik as a little brother that he rarely saw. He loved watching Erik be Erik too. He was very saddened this weekend. My cousin Paula thought he was goofy like me, but she's just a girl! My whole family acknowledged the loss of someone, who was very close and very special and a family member to all of us.

Erik's words and ideas were, to me, better than TV, or the movies or books. I worked on my vocabulary and took note of Erik's words and today, when the secretary of our childcare center tells me to stop using "$100 words" I fell like I'm going in the right direction. That I'm almost there…with Erik. I'm trying to keep up.

It's not easy though. Sometimes, Erik would drop down a level and surprise you. Erik and I were in Ocean City during Senior Week one year. We became bored of the party we were at, so we decided to hit the boardwalk and see if we could find something interesting to do. Well, there was, fifty yards before us, a pack of twenty girls that looked like thy just stumbled out of an MTV video…well, maybe not twenty girls…kind of like four or five…and maybe they didn't look just like they came out of an MTV video…but they were pretty enough…anyway, you know what I mean: they weren't bad for that time of night. I tried the polite method, to get their attention. "Excuse me!" I said, "Hello!" "Excuse me!" I felt like the whole thing was an exercise in futility, but I was up for the entertainment. I called a few more times. Finally, after all of my long distance cajoling, the pack slowed up, turned around and looked at us. Throughout the process, my shortsighted goal was to get their attention…I had no idea of what to do if they actually stopped! But that is why you brought trusty Halvorsen with you. So, with my mind drawing a blank, I turned confidently to Erik, who was standing right beside me, just like any best friend stands beside you when you most need them. He got one of his wry smiles…opened his arms real wide.. and said,
"TONIGHT'S YOUR LUCKY NIGHT!"
He was not going to let him or myself stoop that low. "Now let's go home," he said. After the initial shock, I was glad he chased them away.

Erik was my teammate; losing together playing two on two football, as Matt would know. Playing wiffle ball, or winning together in street hockey. We had fun playing together, win or lose, because we were good friends, which went beyond winning and losing.

Erik did a lot of miscellaneous things that I liked and tried to follow. I'll never have to wish that I had had a chance to tell him that I though he was great. I would tell him how smart he was and how funny he was and how I liked his stories all the time. I made mental recordings of his words, mannerisms, and styles. I copied his bandana wearing and goatee styles. After he worked out a while, I realized that I might need some muscles too.. and started working out. Boy, I'm glad he dropped that bag! I still need to try this all-white get-up he wore over my house one day. Don't worry, Mrs. Halvorsen, I'll never go mohawk!

Erik taught me how to do an Elmo voice from being Elmo at my step daughter's birthday party, when de dressed up in the full Elmo costume. He didn't even know who Elmo was when I asked him to do it, but it was for a kid, and Erik studied the voice and came in full force that day. "Elmo says hi to Jackie…Elmo love birfday pawties." I copied Erik's Elmo and took my act to the classrooms that I substituted for. All the kids say "Do Elmo, do Elmo!" One day a principal walked in on my routine. I told Erik about that. He said she probably loved it. He was right, because they were still talking about it in the office when I came back a week later. They don't know how much better Elmo can be done, but I do.. I have it on video tape. I'll never show them, though! Just like I hope, when I get a full time teaching job that his parents don't parade out the video of me cross-dressing as one of Henry VIII's wives for one of Erik's "elevated" classes! On wing nights, for the kids, Erik would sing in Kermit the Frog's voice "Why are there so many songs about rainbows…"

Sometimes Erik would take stands, other times he would acknowledge defeat with humor. Last summer, in Stone Harbor, he complained for the whole ride to the movie theater. He was upset about how he doesn't mind the cost of the ticket, but "Why do they make you buy that big popcorn and big soda, when you're never going to be able to eat or drink it all!" Over and over, he talked about how he would not give in and buy something that he would never be able to consume.

We got out of the car, walked to the theater and Erik stepped proudly to the front of the counter and said, "I'll have one small popcorn". The person behind the counter asked, "One small popcorn?" "Yes, one small popcorn," Erik proudly repeated. "Well," said the concessionaire, "the small popcorn costs $4.75 but the BIGGIE POPCORN costs $5.25 which is only fifty cents more." "Okay," Erik quietly conceded in a monotone voice, "I'll have the Biggie Popcorn." "Anything else?" asked the attendant with a smile. "Yes", said Erik. His tone, this time did not even show a hint of knowledge about his previous unsuccessful stand. Once again, standing straight and proud, with his biggie popcorn eclipsing half of his face, Erik stated confidently, "I'll have one small soda." The concessionaire made a half turn towards the soda machine, double-backed, and then turned to face Erik again. The attendant educated, "Well, you know…the small soda will cost you $5.75, but the BIGGIE SODA will cost you $6.25, which is only fifty cents more." Erik continued to stand straight. He stared blankly, straight ahead, and said in a monotone voice, "I'll have a biggie soda".

During Erik's brief stand, two lines had grown deep in front of both concession counters. The people in the lines were so intrigued by Erik's plight, that they were as much an audience to his soft spoken fight as they would be toward the movies of their choice only minutes away. To them, even catching pieces of the discussion, and only seeing Erik's back, they knew what he was trying to do. It was something that everyone has thought about and thought about how wrong it is and at the same time wondered why no one does anything about it. Well on this day, Erik was going to do something about it. Even if it was just to let everyone know, including the employees of the movie theater, that everyone else knew too.

When Erik turned to face "the people" with his one arm wrapped around the BIGGIE SODA, and his other hand around the BIGGIE POPCORN, the people erupted in an approving laughter. They understood what he was trying to do. The delegated proud acknowledging head nods to Erik, who they undoubtedly had gained respect for, even though they had only known him for less than five minute rebellion. A rebellion, which will come to be known as "Erik's BIGGIE Stand". Erik was into defending the rights of the "common people". Even though he was different in many ways, he would gain great pleasure and satisfaction in being the voice of "the people" and stating the wrongs that many are too lethargic or too timid to express, no matter how "big" or how small the issue.

Erik and I had competing hockey idols. He liked Peter Klima and I like Michael Goulet. Erik was big on stats and sports. Sometimes I wonder if I could've done more for him in the past few years. I think if he were here, he would make up a little formula that says, "number of phone calls, multiplied by number days that you've known a person, minus time spent mowing the lawn…"

Sometimes I'd just wonder what he was thinking - like what does someone that smart think about? When I took him to an Eagles game a couple of years ago on Monday night, he became really upset. No, not because Rhodes wouldn't start Bobby Hoying, or that the team was down 30-6 at half time. He was mad at the way people were talking to each other and talking toward the players. I took his viewpoints into consideration. Now I only offer a couple ferocious remarks per home game, and they're always directed toward Mike Mamula, who would never be able to carry out my violent plans anyway!

Erik and I had many differences, but people say we're a lot alike. At one party, recently, I walked in the door and someone's wife recognized me. She said, "Hey, I know you, how are y-" with her arms open and her body gliding toward me, she was interrupted, "No, that's not Hal…," said her husband, "…that's Weber!" "Oh, " she said, disappointingly. With that she gave me a lack-luster wave and swirled back in the other direction. Erik could sure make a first impression that was hard to follow. Whether it be showing his underwear in the lab room at Physics in High school as part of a "Bet you can't do the lab with your pants down" dare…oops did I say that! Or when Adam, Clayton and Erik tied a rope to the back of their car and skied through the roads of the neighborhood during one of the blizzards. No one is allowed to get into trouble for any of this! Or his boisterous, "Arobone!" which Erik called our new comrade when he learned his last name for the first time and when Erik said it again and again and again.. Don't worry, I'll keep that tradition up! Or when he worked at Video Update, where they put messages on the bottom of the receipts and he typed in, "If we don't have it, try Blockbuster," on everyone's receipt. He said that if the corporate heads weren't visiting that day, that he wouldn't have gotten in trouble. Or when he helped out a friend that was in a car accident, that went on and on about how kind and giving Erik was. Another time Erik got so mad, while golfing, that he threw his club up in a tree and it got stuck there.

As I was sulking and grieving over the loss of my best friend, throughout the night, my wife kept bringing up story after story of all the, I'll say "original" things Erik had done. Some were stories I passed on…some were "wing night tales" and some she experienced first hand. When's Erik coming over? Is Erik coming? Did you ask Erik? Always in my mind and if not mine, my wife's, if not hers, my mom's, my dad's, or everyone at wing night and Sunday morning hockey. Everyone missed Erik long before he left us. But don't worry if you never told him that you missed him and how much you thought of him, because I did. Sometimes too much.

As being a best friend you know certain things that others may not or may not be sure about. I feel it is my responsibility to tell Kristen and Mr. and Mrs. Halvorsen that Erik loved you very much. Whenever he would talk about you, it would be in a proud manner…except when it came to mowing the lawn! I want to thank you, Kristen, Mr. and Mrs. Halvorsen, for sharing Erik with us all… then again… at times you seemed precariously eager to share him with us!!! Kristen, he always spoke of you like a sturdy tree that he could lean up against and talk to when he needed someone close that would truly understand. From my side, it seemed he respected you, because you would give him your opinion without telling him what to do. That, in turn, is how he would treat his discussions with me. Erik would never point the finger at me. He would make his point and let it stand. When I was having a lot of headaches in middle school, Erik said calmly, "You should really get that checked out, or else maybe stop having two ice-cream sandwiches and a chocolate milk for lunch every day".

Erik's stories and actions, I've used to make myself loved by children and respected by co-workers. His thought process had helped to let me know that you can be yourself and still keep close friends, even if you don't always do what they do or act like they act. Erik was my best friend and I kept a detailed mental record of his life all along. I guess as you can see, I could've gone on for days, but for one, Mr. and Mrs. Halvorsen would have regretted giving me the open mike and two, Erik might jump out from somewhere and say "Can we cut the mindless prattle, I want to go home!"

To me, eternal life is when your name, stories, jokes, strengths, short-comings and beliefs are passed on from person to person and generation to generation. So Erik, if your intention was to rest now, too bad, you'll always be stuck with us! Where we go, you'll go, as we pass on your words and stories. I think Erik knew, with me, he always had an audience, that I would listen and most of the time try to follow. In his last conversation with me, he said, "I've been spending too much time on myself. I've been concentrating on myself too much. This time of the year," he continued, "I really need to give to the people, to my family, who care about me and have been taking care of me the most."

It was kind of ironic, because I was just telling my close friends how selfish I am. Come to think of it, none of them exactly jumped out of their seats to tell me that I was wrong! Erik was not there that night, but every time I think about Erik, I keep thinking back to our last conversation about how he wanted to spend less time on himself and more time on the people that he was close to that had helped him. I think these will be his hardest words for me to follow, less time on myself and more time on others who care. I think that that may be why he saved them until now. Maybe, some way he knew I'd be up here and end with his last words to me. Once again, he just made a statement and, I guess, is leaving it out there for everyone to act on their own. Or else he's leaving it out there for everyone to work on together. That may be very beneficial to those of us who feel like half of us is now gone. Either way, whether we follow or not, I don't think Erik would hold it against us… as long as we never make him mow the lawn again!

You could say that I was lucky to know Erik for 20 years. I don't think so - I think that I was lucky to know Erik for one day.

Thank you.