reindeer shoes

The last time I saw Julie was like all the other days we shared ... she was smiling, laughing, finding fun in the simple things. Julie came down to San Diego for our Ugly Christmas Sweater Party, like she had the year before. The year before Julie had an ugly Christmas sweater, but I think most of her energy had gone into her hilarious Stanford-themed white elephant gift that also involved pool noodles. This year she went even further. Along with her festive, hand-embellished, but hard to call ugly Christmas sweater, Julie had real, actual reindeer shoes. No joke. I would like to say Julie won the competition, but she was beat out by a battery-operated ensemble. I just thought this night epitomized Julie; she put her all into the competition because she loved to have fun and she never shied away from something that required a little effort. She made friends with everyone at the party she didn't already know, and after an hour people referred to her as Julie, the super sweet girl with the reindeer shoes. Everyone has said as much, but Julie really was the brightest person I've known. She got so much joy out of each day, she always put others before herself and she was such a hard worker. Not only will I never forget Julie and her laugh, but I will try to bring the same joyful, tenacious spirit into each day.

Memories of Jullie

I have so many beautiful memories of Julie. The two images that stand out in my mind are her eating a gigantic piece of watermelon at our Shady Rest barbeque at the end of preseason Mammoth camp, with her beautiful giant grin, though this time with a mouth covered with watermelon juice. As she slurped away at the melon, she told me how she loved eating watermelon because you could eat the whole thing without getting full. That was Julie- it was as if she lived life in an attempt to swallow it whole, take it all in, and not miss out on anything. I remember her often telling me her dilemma over choosing classes, because there was so much that interested her and excited her. She lived with such a wide-eyed wonderment that it made you, too, want to stop and take pleasure more in the world around you.

The other image is her pumping away on that single-speed beach cruiser, often standing up to make it up hills, with her blond hair flowing and always that beautiful smile. She would sometimes come flying up next to you and start riding with you to class. Julie loved people, always saw the good in other people, and called out the gold in them. This made you feel instantly comfortable in her presence.

And of course, as Lauren shared, how she would look like a mermaid playing in the waves whenever we went to the beach! If there was water anywhere, she couldn't help but jump in, even if it was freezing and nighttime! She had such wonderful spontaneity and spunk

Sweet Julie, we love you!

thoughts by the ocean

I headed out for the beach today - to take some time to feel sad and think about what I wanted to carry on from Julie's life. I had a lot of thoughts and wanted to share this poem I wrote in her honor.

Jewelee, Jewels, Julie

Julia Butterfly, Julie of the Wolves

The Beatles Julia, ocean child

Getting an email from Julie Allen was like

receiving a letter from Jack Kerouac.

She wrote in wave metaphors,

astral words driven by the tides.

She was a blonde southern california beach lover...

But she was not.

She was from a distant star,

a ray of light still bursting with exuberance

after billions of years, making it's final stop

on our lovely, lonely planet.

Julie was able to feel the loneliness of a hundred people,

when happiness fled like a retreating tide.

Julie made me feel like my problems

were not too daunting at all.

Yet she was also able to convert sunlight into

pure, unbridled joy.

I think she could feel the happiness of

more than a hundred people.

And what's more, she gave it right back to us.

Julie, Jewels, Jewelee

The light of your star is in good hands.

Beach Trip

The thing that amazed me most about Julie was her ability to take any challenge as a game. Julie faced barriors like we all do, but she never ever expected anyone to feel sorry for her. I'm sure it never even occurred to her to feel sorry for herself.

One of my most vivid memories is of a beach trip to Santa Cruz that Julie and I planned together. She had been missing the beach, no surprise, and we both needed to do a long run so we figured why not do it along the surf? I made a "Jewelee and Leeia's Beach Trip CD" because for some reason we had an inside joke of spelling eachother's names differently every time we wrote them. Julie made cookies with just about everything in the kitchen cabinet at the churchill house, including a packet of powerbar gel as the icing.

Our long run didn't go as well though; about 15min into the run Julie had bad stomach cramps and was obviously hurting. I asked if she wanted to stop and I could pick her up later. Julie, her beautiful long blonde hair flipping in the breeze, responded with gritted teeth "No. I'm not gonna let this stupid stomach pain beat me." And so we ran. We ran and finished our long run and then went to play in the waves. Of course Julie outlasted me, so I sat in the sand and watched her body surf.

Julie taught me a lot about life without her knowing it. Without even me knowing it. She didn't take herself too seriously, as I tend to do. She saw life as the beautiful game that it is; full of challenges and obstacles but not dead ends. And always with a beach waiting at the end of it.

Bioluminescence

Two moments have run through my mind constantly the past few days as I grieve for Julie and all the people she has touched.

I remember so vividly spending Julie's 21st birthday with her. The two of us went out to dinner at Straits Cafe in Palo Alto, and I was a terrible influence and bought her a birthday shot. She obviously wasn't a drinker, (and neither am I), and it wasn't something she planned to do regularly, but I told her that it was her 21st birthday and even if it was only once in her life, she should do it.

We poured over the menu of exotic drinks, deciding on one to share. In the end she picked a "brown-eyed girl." It was a tiny, colorful, sickeningly sweet shot. It was such a funny memory watching her eyes pop out of her head before she even tried it! She laughed and laughed at how "bad" she was, and kept looking around like she was going to get in trouble while giggling her head off. It was only 7pm or so, and there were about 10 people in the bar area with us and they must have thought we were something else. It was like being 14 years old at a sleepover. I'm laughing just thinking about it now. The best part was she wouldn't stop talking about it for like six months!

The other vivid memory is when we went to the cove. Julie was always so obviously awed by nature and the power of the sea. In the presence of the ocean, it was as if Julie had a direct line to God. In my memory, it was a dark starry night, and there was a seasonal anomaly of phytoplankton or something that was glowing in the sand and in the waves; if you brushed your foot against the sand there was green glitter for just a moment where your foot had been. We felt as though we had made a magical discovery.

Julie ran across the sand into the darkness, dragging her feet, leaving a trail of green glitter behind her. Her long wavy locks flowed behind her and she leapt into the sea, right through the green, glassy wall of a wave a moment before it broke...glitter around the entry point as if she were a mermaid who jumped through a magical entry into a hidden world.

I was a mentor for Julie in some ways, since I was a few years older and we were both California High School Harriers. Our times together led to many deep talks about life, but it was evident early on that the student was really the teacher. Julie taught me so much about life. I admire her deeply, and will miss her so much.

This is a platform detected to all those who knew and loved Julie for the bright, ball, of burning energy and joy she brought to the world.  The clarity and charisma she exuded in her life on earth was of another stratosphere that gave all of us a glimpse of something beautiful.  We mourn the loss of such a light in our lives, but hope and pray she is in the presence of something far more beautiful than even her spectacular imagination could dream of.  We miss you dearly, Julie, but your spirit lives on in each of the lives you touched during your short stay with us.  Peace be with you, forever.