Search by Name

Add a Memory

Send Flowers

Make a Donation

Share Obituary

Eugene Bazyl Obituary

BAZYL, EUGENE
1983 2006. Graveside, Saturday, July 15, 2006, 10:00 a.m. at Fairmount Cemetery, Denver, CO.

To plant trees in memory, please visit the Sympathy Store.

Published by Denver Post on Jul. 15, 2006.

Memories and Condolences
for Eugene Bazyl

Sponsored by An anonymous member of the MRA and CSC.

55 Entries

Susan Foster

July 9, 2024

Has it been 18 years? He was hardly older than that when he left us; even then too soon. He is, as then, deeply missed as one of the best people god ever made.
Hope you´re spreading your wings up there, kid.

Barn

July 9, 2023

Making me smile today Gene. Miss you bud but I know I'll see you again. Thank you for looking after all of us.

Susan Foster

April 1, 2015

Hey kiddo... I think of you often and still carry your racing number in my wallet. Such a sweet guy, consummate gentleman, and as shy as they come. Always had a warm smile for everyone. Miss ya.

March 13, 2015

Eugene, we remember you every day and we love you so much. Mom, Dad, Veronica, grandma.

Matt Zenthoefer

December 9, 2013

Eugene -

I did not know you had passed until today. I will miss you my friend. Thanks for the advice you gave to me before and after engineering school. You have no idea, but that advice impacted my life in a hugely positive way.

- Matt

October 12, 2011

Many years have passed and although I never knew you, I knew of you. How much you were loved and how much you are missed. You are the great brother of a great woman and physician. Malus'ka, if I may, may you always be her guide.

Jim Wilson

October 12, 2010

Happy Birthday Gene! You're in our hearts always!

July 12, 2010

It is difficult to say something about 4th anniversary of Eugene’s death.
Every time I am thinking about Eugene’s death my soul is overrunning with unbelievable disparity and sorrow. It is concurrent with deep disbelieve that it had happened. This is throwing me in deep depression. It happens every day.
I was trying to find some rhymes about grief that could express my feelings.
I found that Shakespeare is the only one that is some kind of close to it.
He grieves the death of his son Hamnet:
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words...
On behalf of Eugene's dad Anatoly Lerner

We miss you deeply. We will never forget the joyful, loving memories you had given us. We think about you every day. Our loss broke our hearts. As soon as we are you are with us. Love you so much. Mom. Dad.

Mumin Ismailov

December 3, 2008

Miss you bro

Mike Ortiz

October 17, 2008

Was thinking about you today Gene.

Chanda Mayer-Tucker

October 13, 2008

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GENE! Still miss you

Tamara Bazyl

October 12, 2008

October 12, 2008 is Eugene’s 25th Birthday. Happy Birthday our dear son! Third year is coming without you. We miss you deeply. We will never forget the joyful, loving memories you had given us. We think about you every day. Our loss broke our hearts. As soon as we are you are with us. Love you so much, Mom Tamara Bazyl, Dad Anatoly Lerner, your sister Veronica Lerner.

Matty

December 24, 2007

Never Had A Chance To Meet Eugene, But Heard A Lot About Him. Sad To Hear He Was So Young.

Mom Tamara Bazyl Dad Anatoly Lerner

July 27, 2007

July 12, 2007

In loving memories of our dear Son

22 years and 9 months.
For someone’s life - Is it too short or is it too long? - It is too, too short.

One can go thru this life slowly and confidently.

The others - they are burning their lives - putting in front of them simple, primitive goals and being satisfied with what they have, and being very happy and proud of themselves even when not achieving their simple goals. They are deceiving themselves, only making their friends laugh and hurting their parents.

Eugene had very short, but bright and full of energy life.
He was setting for himself the big and difficult goals and he always was trying to reach them. And for this approach to the life he had gotten the great respect from family and friends.

He wanted to achieve a lot in this life and he had had many achievements in the very, very, very short life!
Eugene was remarkable, good fellow:
- Kind, open, responsive and sympathetic - Ready to share with all his friends and ready to offer help to the friends, relatives.
- He always had sought the opportunities to achieve more.
- Very purposeful and persistent – he had finished the University in 2 years, and at the age of 19 he got the permanent position as a software engineer in a company that now is a part of Lockheed Martin Corporation.
- He was respected and was loved at the work.
- At 19 years old he was a youngest businessman in Colorado and he was invited on a conference to meet with President Bush.
- He had 2 businesses.
- He was very versatile: the hard schools and serious job, in sports - chess, hockey, soccer, ski, snowboard, motorcycle.
- He was courageous and daring - injuries and broken bones did not frighten him.
Eugene knew what could happen and he decided to look ahead.
- He took care of himself. Each day he was exercising for 2-3 hours and at the same time he was able to find a time to have fun with friends in the bar.
- He liked to assemble something, to repair something. During the school time he assembled more than 100 planes models and more than 60 LEGO models. And after finishing of college he liked to repair the cars and motorcycles.
- He liked to read the books about politics and business, and if he traveled along, he was listening to the books on tapes and CDs.
- He always had many ideas in his head. He was trying to evaluate the chances and if he saw any probability of success, he was taking a chance – the only problem he had – he did not have enough time for multitasking.
- He was racing in different places and he was making friend there. He was very sociable and pleasant, very happy man.
- He was searching for friends and he had been happy to have them. To big extend his love to the motorcycles had been related to the fact that he found his friends and they liked and respected him.

He had the valuable life.
He was the embodiment of life.
He loved the life.
His willing was to be an organ donor. Eugene had saved more than four lives with organ donation.

----------------------------------

Vikings believed that to get in paradise man should die with a sword in his hands.
Eugene found the end of his life strongly gripping the handles of his motorcycle.
He had been young and beautiful. He was courageous and nice. He was clever and he was in the search for something new.
He had an active life and he had been happy to have many friends.
He liked life and he was doing what he liked and wanted to do.

----------------------------------

We will remember him forever.
Let he will win in celestial races, as he was winning in this life.

----------------------------------

All relatives and friends of the family are expressing their deep grief with irreplaceable loss.
We will always love and remember our dear boy. He always lived in our hearts. He is in our hearts. And he always will be in our hearts.

----------------------------------

People came,
All colors, races and religions.
To help, to save, to mourn, to grief.
They came together with us.
And even God wept.

There are not enough words to thank everyone who have responded on our tragedy. Eugene touched so many people in such a short time. He loved helping people, making friend, cheered up so many.
So many people came to the funeral and said so many wonderful things about our son. This tribute means so much to us. During the first few weeks, close to 400 replies where posted on the Colorado Sportbike Club Forum:
http://forums.mra-racing.org/viewtopic.php?t=2347, filled with wonderful stories about Eugene, kind words, and nice pictures:
http://www.cosportbikeclub.org/forums/showthread.php?s=3b9d83ead04a451cf3c1411dcac52e17&t=7310, and touching video by Iraq veteran Jon Brisbane: http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1964373865, not to mention the postings on Gene’s MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/ebazyl and in the Guestbook website:
http://www.legacy.com/denver/GB/GuestbookView.aspx?PersonId=18450475.
It warms our hearts, so thank you all so much!
Thanks to everyone who called and sent cards, gifts, it really means a lot.
In memory of Gene Bazyl a plague “Outstanding Engineer” was placed in a lab that was named “Bazyl Lab” after him at work in Lockheed Martin Corporation, a great honor.
There were fundraisers, an auction that raised thousands of dollars to start a safety fund in Eugene’s name at The Gene Bazyl Memorial Auction: http://forums.mra-racing.org/viewtopic.php?t=2829&start=0&postdays=0&postorder=asc&highlight=bazyl. In memory of Gene Bazyl there will be a "remember 502" brick for the new track Memorial Brick for Gene: http://forums.mra-racing.org/viewtopic.php?t=4538&start=0&postdays=0&postorder=asc&highlight=bazyl&sid=42aea783e1b30b9d3a6e76cfd0994965.

We’ll never get to thank everybody enough.

Tracy Lefferdink

January 10, 2007

I knew Gene for about 5 years (and counting). In my memories, Gene is all things good with a little "spice" thrown in for good measure. He is warm, loyal, open, funny, reasonable (usually!), honest, and genuine. His love resonates with a wild calm.

Our most recent conversation was New Year's Eve of 2006. I had sent out a cheesy mass text message, and my phone rang. "Gene Pool!" said the caller ID. We spoke excitedly about 2006 and our need to hang out again soon. We were smiling gently the whole time, and I believe we still are.

Much love and strength to Gene's actual "gene pool." :) I haven't met you and would love to. His stories abound in my mind and always will; I'd love to share more with you someday.

“Gene” is synonymous with "Glow." I can still feel him, and I love him, very much in the present tense. Peace.

Tamara Shouse

November 10, 2006

My heart goes out to you, the family and friends of Gene. I've read many things great things about him, never had the chance to know him myself. Please know my prayers are with you.

veronica lerner

November 4, 2006

About My Brother

Neither my parents nor I could really speak at the funeral or for a long time after that. It is still painful to write and talk about him, look at his photos, read his website, hear his voice on the voicemail. Without doing those things, it hurts even more. I think other people who know him might like to read what I have to say, hear stories about him that keep on coming to mind and don’t seem to want to leave.

“Oh, Zhenichka!” This is what my best friend Svetlana said when she found out about the accident—his little kid name called out in despair. Russian language has many diminutive versions for names, all variations that carry different meanings. “Zhen’ka” is what I called him most of the time, it’s a quick abbreviation of his full name, somewhat playful, somewhat teasing. “Zhenichka” is very caring, soft, and buttery. There is also more formal “Zhenya”, quick “Zhen’”. He was also a “malus’ka” (I hope he forgives me telling his story - it is so mushy). When he was little, he could not quite pronounce “mollusks” so he called them “malus’ki” which in Russian also means “little critters” which is what mollusks are… So that name stuck around in the family. We called him “malus’ka” or a “little critter.” “Gene” is all-American, tough, manly. I guess I see him as a combination of all of those things: sweet, soft, cute, caring, but also smart, strong, grown. A brother I’m so proud of.

The truth is, he has always been the “cool” one of the two of us. I’ve been consistently uncool (which he did not forget to remind me about periodically), and although he tried to teach me the right way, I’m pretty sure it did not work very well.

I’ve always liked to show off my brother. When people would ask me whether I had any siblings, I’d say “I have a younger brother. He is 22, he is really smart. He graduated from college two years early with a computer science degree, and now he is working for Lockheed Martin making radars. He is really cute. He races motorcycles for fun, and he is getting good. He’ll grow out of it soon I’m sure…”

Growing up in our crazy family, you had to learn some serious survival skills. I love my parents, but you know what I mean. He was so smart with them even when he was little. When I was getting all wrapped up with them, he used to try to calm me down. “Ok, my older but mildly retarded sister, here is what you should do: for a small fee, I’ll teach you the way.” I don’t know how, but he somehow managed to give good advice in “life” things as well, stuff you would not expect him to know much about. Four years ago, when he first came to see me in New York, he met the guy I was just starting to date at the time. He said right away—“When are you dumping this dude?” Now, three and a half years after being with him and going through a torturous breakup, I am still asking myself that. How could he possibly know so well (better then me, obviously) what was good for me? Giving career advice (which I did not take, and ended up being wrong about it, too) to a grown up thirty-year old woman should not be something a little brother does, but his intuition did not seem to fail.

At the funeral, and afterwards, people kept on mentioning on how happy and positive he was. Not dumb-happy, which drove both of us crazy. Great smile, rather a smirk, making sarcastic jokes. As a kid he was the same way—a very happy baby. Not that things were always cool with us—we had plenty of sibling rivalry and good solid fights growing up (that is until he outgrew me, then I realized I can’t really pick them any more). I remember when my mom had my brother, my dad and I came to see them in a hospital. You were not allowed to go in for some reason, so my mom lifted my brother above the white line that was covering the window at about the eye level, so that only his little blue head was sticking out of a cocoon. I thought—is this ugly thing really going to be my brother? But he was a really really cute baby.

Looking at old black and white photos that my dad made when we were growing up, you can see the difference: a picture of me staring at the camera, with my lips pushed out in discontent (things are not that much different today), and my brother—standing butt-naked in a crib and pointing happy at the pool of pee he just made that he was so proud off! (Hope he can forgive me this story, I just love it so much). Another time, when I was walking him outside one a first nice spring day, and turned the stroller around so that he would face the fun. His poor little cheeks got sunburned! He loved to ride on my dad’s shoulders, “kopki-baranki” in Russian, and there was truly no limit at how many rounds in the living room my dad had to make before he would agree to get down. “One more time, then forty more,” he would say; in Russian, it goes, “odin rasok, sorok raz.”
And in another picture, he is about two, sitting in the middle of the living room, happily destroying my dad’s vinyl records that he knew quite well were not ok to touch, his little tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth from too much pleasure of getting into the forbidden. On another picture, we are outside in a court yard, he is about three, dragging his favorite truck on a string, laughing, with the same little tongue in the corner of his mouth. On another one, he is pinning a paper cat he made in school to my dad’s back just for fun, just to mess around. I remember that day, we were just laughing about silly nothings.

I like graduation pictures too - my high school, college, med school—on all of them, he is patiently posing for parents, wearing my cap. Then his high school graduation picture—he is decked out in honors ribbons, looking happy, and me leaning on him with my arm around his shoulders, happy.

Then there is this picture from a family vacation in Canada: quite typical of us. We are sitting down, taking a break from walking around Montreal. I’m concentrating on a guide book, making sure we are not missing anything, and he is smirking at the camera, making fun of me.

I remember my trip to Vegas two years ago for a conference at work, and my brother and Justin were passing through town driving back from a motorcycle race in California. I was there with several friends, and we all had fun hanging out for a few days. I could never get gambling (why play if you are going to lose?), so he bought a deck of cards (I still have it), and tried to teach me how to play in our hotel room…One night we all went out to dinner, and he got into the funniest fight with a friend of a friend who was there as well. He was 20 then, and did not hesitate to express his opinions and political viewpoints which seemed to contradict what the other six women at the table were saying (he and Justin were quite outnumbered). He could not resist to argue for hours with a woman who was a handicapped, gay, minority graduate student doing a PhD in women’s studies. I won’t bore you with details, but those who know him can only imagine what that dinner conversation was like. Thinking about it still makes me smile. It is so like Zhen’ka… So upfront, nothing to hold back or hide, but cute and innocent at the same time.

During his last trip to NYC for Thanksgiving last year, I felt like we really connected, understood each other without words. We walked around the city streets, absorbing its energy, feeling the moment. We managed to go a funky bar in East Village (yes, me and my brother hanging out in a bar—never thought I would be cool enough to be included), called “Lava Gina” (once we translated this to him from Spanish, you can imagine the look on his face). We drank, talked. I warned him that even though my friends are single, they are really not available for my 22 year old brother (which he handled with great tact like he always does). My friends and I, Gene and Jared were all happy, content. Like that Thanksgiving dinner that he, Jared, and I had—at that time I did not realize I was giving thanks, but I was. I had to work that night, was kind of grumpy about it, but thinking back, we had dinner like a true family. The pictures that Jared took that day show us happy, relaxed, enjoying the moment. I think that’s why he picked a picture of him from that trip to put on a plaque that commemorates him at work. He even survived several hours at the Met (I think partially I have Jared to thank for that), and patiently listened to me rambling about art. I felt like he was really growing up, from boy to man. I think he liked that trip as well, put a picture of me and him on top of the Rockefeller center on MySpace under “traveling: got to love family all over the country.” I’m flattered, punk! What kills me on these pictures is that he is wearing an ugly (well, actually it looks good on him) brown vintage jacket from the 70s he got at a second-hand store—he used to make fun of my obsession with second-hand clothes, but he finally got it himself. And I got to tease him about it too.

Racing bikes… How romantic, but it also has a hint of self-destruction that I guess runs in the family. Not that I’ve never done stupid self-destructive things in my life. I tried to talk him out of racing many times. At first, I was joking around, not thinking it would last. I told him to make sure he wears a “brain bucket,” meaning a helmet (wasn’t that clairvoyant of me—it did exactly what it was supposed to do, although he himself seemed to have been looking into the future in his essay on La Junta on My Space). His sense of humor is what others appreciated at well. Snide commends were his specialty. On MySpace, he writes: “Best explanation of racing I have ever heard: There is something you can do to prepare yourself for racing. Get a nice 100 deg. day. Build a roaring fire in the fireplace, put on you full race leathers, boots, gloves, helmet. Sit in front of the fireplace and throw money at it. This will give you a good feel for a day at the races.”

But deep down I really understood why he did it. It was a “natural high.” The “natural high” is different for different people. For me, it is skiing downhill on a beautiful sunny winter day with the mountain peaks and the sun; it is going to the Met to see that same painting by Goya over and over; it is hiking to the top of the fourteener with the world underneath you; it is diving and becoming one with the ocean; it is reading the New York Times on Sunday; it is doing a case in the OR and seeing your patient do well. We all crave that, and without it, life is bleak, it is not worth living. Still my “highs” were not his “highs.” It was not enough for him. Actually, if I was him, I would probably be doing exactly the same thing. Nothing more, nothing less.

My first and last time at the track during a race was about two years ago. I was home for a few days, and mom, dad and I drove to Pueblo to watch him race. It was fun to hang out around bikes, meet his friends, people watch. I even got to ride around in a scooter, with him teaching me the joys of riding. But during that race he fell. It was a horrible feeling, watching him slide off the tracks. You felt like your soul was sinking. Something inside me was telling me, it can’t be happening, he can’t get hurt, it is not real. I guess that is what you call denial. He was ok, his bike was out of commission, and that was about all. We all tried to be supportive, especially my dad who is the most wonderful father anyone can ever wish for and more. He kept on coming to his races, took pictures, hung out, helped him out as much as he could. My dad is pretty amazing. I could never be that good of a parent. His racing portraits and pictures he took on the track are striking. They really capture the moment, the thoughts and feelings that are on the guys’ faces. The most heart-breaking is the picture of his helmet, gloves, and a trophy on the tool box that he took in 2004. Feels like the weapons of a slain solder, laid with respect to rest.

I tried to tell him—there are plenty of natural highs, just please look for them in the right places! It was not always easy to convince him. We still have 8 years separating us, but I felt like over the last year he was really starting to get my “natural highs,” opening up to new ideas coming from an older sister. I used to tease him to get him to read books (yes, literature could be fun), and guess what! On MySpace, under “books,” he wrote “Catch 22, Fathers and Sons, Ishmael, need to read more though.” He used to make fun of the “artsy” movies I watch, but when I did drag him with me to see an independent film, he liked it. “We should do it again,” he would acknowledge. Just looking at MySpace—the movies I never thought he would see are there. Even the NIN—I gave him that CD a few years ago when I decided I’d grown out of it--is there, he totally got it. Even his comment about “not watching much TV”—I’m so proud of him for getting that too. I think I’ll have to burn some MP3s from that illegal Russian website to broaden my stale sorry music collection from his list of bands. I would probably like most of them.

My mom seems to be convinced that had we only tried to “show him other things,” he would have quit racing. Maybe, maybe not. Yes, we are conflicted about it—we lost him to something that seems so “stupid.” A life wasted on something that should not have been. And yes, we are mad at him for racing, we are all in pain; but we are in pain not just because we miss him, but because he did not get to see more, live more. We try to respect the choices that he made. One of his friends said that in 22 years he’d accomplished more than most middle-aged people have. To live life like he did, one would have no regrets. This might be true, he had a wonderful 22 year-old life, but how much more could there have been! Forgive us for being mad at racing, ok? We love your friends, they are so great, even though they are mixed into the motorcycle mess…

I first got the news on the way back from a hike near Seattle. It was my second week here, and I was having a pretty good day. The hike was beautiful. I rented a sky-blue PT cruiser and was thinking how ridiculous it would be if I actually owned it. I thought I would probably have an OK year, despite being far away from my friends. I was trying to get people to come visit me. My parents were going to come, and so was my brother sometime later in the year, after the racing season was over. Before that he did not have time, was using all his weekends to race. No problem, I was saying, there is always next year. Things at work were settling down. I was pretty close to being content with life.

My cell phone rang, and the caller ID said it was my mom. My first instinct was to screen the call, call her back when I was not driving, after I got home. But something made me pick it up (another one in the string of coincidences). My mom told me that my brother was in an accident, taken to the hospital, they are on their way to Pueblo to figure out what is going on. My first reaction was complete disbelief. I remember thinking, how is she able to hold herself together? Then, of course, I had to hold myself together, not to freak her out as well. After all, his other crashes were not a big deal. This sounds more serious, but of course it can’t be bad. I said call me from the hospital, I’m going to get home and buy a ticket to fly to Denver. When my mom called back, she said he is in the ICU with the ICP monitor in his head, “stable.” I fly home the following morning.

The next few weeks are a blur. I remember landing, calling my friend Chad from medical school who is finishing his neurosurgery residency now to see what needs to be done. How can I transfer him to the University Hospital? Should it be Denver General or University? Who should be the accepting neurosurgery attending? It felt important to concentrate on details, make sure everything possible was being done for him. Being freshly out of residency myself, I know things need to be “checked on,” some details might get missed; we have to be proactive about his care to make sure he gets the best.

When I got the hospital, I started to untangle the details. When I first saw him in the ICU, I felt my mind splitting into two. On one hand, I was a doctor and I had to make sure my “patient” got the best care. On the other hand, it was my brother hooked to a million monitors, and that was something my mind was trying to block. If it did not, I would break down. And that was not going to be productive or helpful, would it?

My mom’s reaction was to walk around the bed, look at the monitors; but her unconscious instinct was to try to warm him up. They cooled him off intentionally, trying to slow down his metabolism so that the brain would use less oxygen and the potential damage of hypoxia would be minimized. So she kept on touching his knees since that was the only part of his body that was accessible to her. The rest was covered with lines and monitors. My dad was trying to keep his cool. He kept on getting nauseated in the ICU. Seeing my brother so sick evoked a visceral response. I guess we as human beings are not prepared to handle sickness so raw and exposed; evolution could not catch up with the rapid technical progress and give us some kind of a defense. My dad knew I could not see him cry. One of the days in the ICU he started to cry and seeing him so crushed was intolerable.

When he was stable, nurses encouraged us to talk to him, but I could not. I knew he was in a coma, could not hear a single thing. Even though talking to a comatose patient is considered therapeutic, it is mostly for the family’s sake. They do have some reports of people later on recalling conversations, but most of the time they don’t. The only thing I could tell him, “They are taking good care of you. I’m doing all I can to make sure they are.” In case he is scared and alone in there. But I kept on thinking, I am failing to protect him. As a doctor, as a sister, as a friend, I’m helpless. I’ve failed to protect my little brother, and now bad things out of my control are happening to him.

The crash happened in La Junta. On MySpace he wrote about his races there in the past. In fact, he wrote a whole essay, “The curse is broken” on June 5th, 2006, just a month before the accident. The assay is about racing, his racing career. It is a fun read; he turned into a witty writer as well. It is a dangerous track, he says. When he talks about this first race there in 2003, he says, “If I get hurt here, I am not going to the hospital because their solution to everything will be Civil War style amputation.” His final score was Gene: 1, La Junta: 3. He won the last race.
On that day, there was no racing. There were just a few people on the track, practicing, not even going that fast. As often the case on the track, he was helping someone to get better. It just so happened that one of the guys was new, lost control, cut him off. It was no one’s fault. No one to blame. The “new guy” died within a couple hours.

It took 15 minutes of driving toward town for Justin to get a phone signal. He called 911, the ambulance came to the track in another 15. They assessed the situation, called flight for life. The other racer was taken to a nearby hospital to get stabilized. Flight for life was called for my brother. They were already in route, had to drop off another patient, re-fuel, then fly to the scene; uncontrollable delays. The flight-for-life nurse showed us the picture of the scene of the accident she took with her cell phone. Devastating. Two bodies on the track, far apart from each other and their bikes. He was down for at least 45 minutes before intubation which would make oxygen delivery to his brain more efficient. He never regained consciousness since the collision. He was not in pain at any point. It might be helpful for some to know that. He was gone since he hit the ground.

She assessed him quickly. Her GCS (assessment of coma) was 7 (the number we were given in the ICU was 9, which would put him into moderate risk group in terms of outcomes). Not good, I could tell in her eyes, but one of the main predictors of good outcome was his age, young and healthy. There was still hope. I was desperately reading manuals of trauma, surfing thru the websites, talking to Chad. As a doctor, when you give someone a “bad” diagnosis, you have to be prepared to tell your patient and their family what to expect (that is if they want to know or hear that at all, as some people don’t). Our family is the family of practical rationalizers. We need to have percentages. Based on the formulas and all parameters I could extract from his history and clinical course we had about 10-25% mortality rate (chance of dying), 50% chance of functional recovery, and the rest was a mix of “low functional” recovery and degrees of persistent vegetative state.

The more I learned about neurosurgery and neuro ICU care, the more I realized that they took really good care of him, did everything possible. The docs were good and smart, but the nurses were phenomenal. Way beyond their medical duties. Wonderful people. Special thanks to Mike, ICU coordinator, a very smart nurse and a wonderful person who spend a lot of time with us.
After my first day in the ICU with him I realized that he was too unstable to be transferred. The next few days were up and down, and then he stared to crash. His ICP was going up, brain oxygen level was dropping, brain swelling was getting worse, eventually leading to herniation which required emergency craniotomy (an act of desperation in the world of neurosurgeons that is probably equivalent to perimortem c-section we attempt to do on a mother who just died with a living fetus inside). At that point I was trying to tell myself that I have to keep waiting and hoping he would turn the corner because there was no other option. When he got severe ARDS, or lung failure, in the next few days, and they could not keep his sats up for several hours, I knew that was probably the end. I called a family meeting. After answering in the usual “he is critical, we are doing all we can but it does not look good” voice that oncologists use to talk to the families of dying cancer patients, I asked the neurosurgeon directly, “What would you do if he was your own brother?” “I would turn off the life support now, in case he survives” he answered.

It took my parents a few more days to accept that. After they did a PET scan which showed brain death, they consented to organ donation. I kept on thinking about him in the OR during the organ harvest. At some point, someone turned off the vent. I wonder what they say or do during those cases, what helps them get out of bed and go to work everyday.

My friend Chad was saying that after what happened to my brother he stared to look at his patients differently. Having a hard time with young severe head trauma patients, taking it too close, thinking about my brother. My stomach still turns when I have to go to the ICU to see a patient. Luckily, we don’t have many of them that end up there. Most women having gynecologic surgery are relatively healthy; you fix one problem and everyone is happy. This is the year I’ve decided for sure I’m not going to go into gyn oncology. I can’t tell people that they have incurable cancer and that eventually they will die. I guess in the end I don’t really have what it takes to be a true gyn oncologist.

There is not enough words to thank everyone who responded. He touched so many people in such a short time. He loved helping people on the track; cheered up so many. During the horrible nightmare in the ICU, his friends spent endless hours waiting. There was a huge card that sat in his room in the ICU, filled with good wishes. One of his friends brought us boxes full of food and I swear peanut better never tasted better. So many people came to the funeral and said so many wonderful things about him. That kind of tribute means so much to me and my family. During the first few weeks, close to 400 replies where posted on the Colorado Sportbike Club Forum, filled with wonderful stories about him, kind words, not to mention postings on MySpace and in the Guestbook website. During those awful days it warmed our hearts, so thank you, guys!

I am lucky I have friends who took care of me during that time. Molly drove to Pueblo, brought her dog, and we walked in circles around the blocks that surrounded the hospital. Sveta told me she is going to call me everyday for a while. Lissette was on the phone with me while I was sitting on the carpeted floor of a hallway outside of our hotel room. Manisha flew me out to New York so that I could see my friends. Thanks to everyone who called and sent cards, it really means a lot. I am also very grateful to my parents’ friends for all their support. I feel better knowing my parents are so well taken care of when I’m not around.

But that is not all. There were fundraisers, an auction that raised thousands of dollars to start a safety fund in his name. A lab was named after him at work, a great honor. Jenny, Joe, and Jared we’ll never get to thank you enough. Sorry I’m not mentioning everyone’s names who helped, but you know how you are.

Zhen’ka, we love you and we are thinking about you. As long as we are, you are with us. I am proud of you, everyday.

Aaron Cummins

November 1, 2006

Although I spent next to no time with Gene, he will be missed. The few times I was around him he treated me like a friend of years. He always met you with a smiling face and a positive attitude. There seems to be a dwindling number of people on the planet with the positive outlook on life that Gene held, and it's sad that there is now one less. The best we can do is carry his outlook with us on his behalf, and greet each new day and each new person with a smiling face and try to make an impact on others as Gene did on us.

Matt ~a.k.a Bigtime~ Seube

August 11, 2006

Although the time has gone by, our memories of Gene are still strong. There isn't a day that goes by I don't look back and think of the short time I knew Gene. Mainly from the track. However, he made an impact on alot of people and I appreciate the time I had to know him.

Taylor Frontz

July 31, 2006

Gene,

I have seen all your posts on the site but never really got to talk with you. Go now and spend all of enternity with Jesus for you are and will always be a better person in the eyes of God. You will be missed.

Deb and Paul Gilbert

July 30, 2006

Family, Friends and Loved ones...

Gene has made a great impact on our lives. He was the first to welcome us to Colorado. He was always there to chat and always made me laugh. He left us doing what he loves the most, it was too soon. Gene, we will meet again and you will be in our hearts forever, may you rest in peace. We love you!

Troy Koelling

July 26, 2006

I was always inspired by your passion for riding, even if I did not share that passion myself. But even if we couldn't talk about riding, I always felt you were willing to connect at a different level, whether it was programming or school or girls.

You will be missed,

Troy

Eli Moyle

July 25, 2006

Gene was one of the few people I've ever met who would invite you into his home the moment he met you. He truly was an instant friend. He had such a positive energy it just felt good to be around him. I never knew him not to have a smile on his face. He will be missed.

David Kern

July 25, 2006

I drove to La Junta last year with Gene, a couple of weeks before the race weekend for a practice day. It was just the two of us, on a long boring drive, so we had some time to get to know each other a little better than the casual conversations at SCR. What really struck me, was despite the vast difference in our ages, we were able to connect and form a lasting bond. We talked and joked and laughed that day, we even managed to get on each others nerves once. That single day will live in my memory forever. Since then I was always happy to see Gene at the races and always made a point of looking him up, and he would usually visit my pits also.

Gene was an intelligent, outgoing and very giving person. And as best as I can say it, my life has been enriched to have spent some time with him.

Gene, I will miss you!

Henry Towne

July 25, 2006

Gene was a friend to anyone he met. I prayed that he'd pull through. Everything happens for a reason but this doesn't seem right. My condolences.....

Jeremy Rodriguez

July 25, 2006

I have some good memories of Gene, we did some fishing together and did a rafting trip that was loads of fun and also just hanging out, drinking beer and sharing laughs. He will always be in my thoughts, I will never forget the good times we shared!

Big-J

Alex Svirsky

July 25, 2006

I've known Eugene since high school and he was one of my best friends at CU and afterwards. Although Gene and I did not always see eye to eye (we were roommates for almost a year), I know, and I'm sure that my friends who knew Gene would agree, that some of the most fun we ever had was with Gene. He was kind, fun to be around, always willing to lend a hand, and extremely intelligent; I learned quite a few things from him. I truly believed that he would make it big, and do great things in his life. This tragedy made me see how fragile life really is.

To Gene's family: my heart is with you, and I hope that time will help heal your wound.

To Gene's friends: let his memory give you strength throughout your lives.

Gene: We'll miss you. You left us too soon, my friend.

Dion Eads

July 24, 2006

Gene was always giving and generous to me. Offering to help me with racing, even before I had ever spoken to him face to face. All though I was just beginning to get to know him, I found him to be a great individual.

Roger and Carol Locicero

July 22, 2006

To mom and dad, and all of Gene's family,

Our thoughts and prayers are with you in your time of grief. May your memories bring you comfort.
No bond is as great as that between a parent and child. Our daughter Jen spoke very highly of Gene and regarded him as a true friend. Our deepest condolences are with you as you grieve.

Mark Duskus

July 22, 2006

I guess I didn't truly realize how much Gene impacted my life in the short time I knew him until he was gone. He was an awesome teammate in hockey and a true friend on the track. Always willing to offer wisdom from his experiences. Easily one of the most intelligent, accomplished, & dedicated individuals I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I have not met anyone as genuine and unique as Gene at such a young age. You will always be remembered my friend.

Irina Zadov

July 22, 2006

I grew up with Eugene as our families have been close friends for over a decade. While our initial affiliation revolved around family vacations, holidays, and weekend hiking trips, we eventually became close friends on our own.

Zhenya and I became teenagers together and spent some of the most awkward and touching moments with one another as we learned about who we were and who we wanted to be. These realizations eventually lead us in different directions as we moved out of our parents’ houses and went on with our adult lives.

However, the impact that Eugene has had on me has never left. As most of my friends can testify, I have continued to think and care about him long after we grew apart. While it has been nearly six years since we spent our afternoons on the phone and our evenings driving around Aurora, making sarcastic jokes, and listening to Metallica (I still can't believe he put me through that) he has continued to live on in my heart, as he always will.

Having known him for such a long time, I have no doubt that Eugene would have led a great life. In fact, meeting his new friends and learning about his most recent accomplishments, it is fair to say that he already has. Eugene had an unyielding drive and a compassionate heart; qualities from which we can all learn. May we all reach for the stars, but never forget those we love on earth. For Zhenya, I will do both.

The greatest condolences to his family with whom my heart is often.

Ira

Tawny Amati

July 22, 2006

Gene,

I first met you in Pueblo when you were in Pre-grid and beating the crap out of your gas tank. I asked what was wrong and you told me some guy had made a bad pass on you. I told you "o'well, suck it up and get back out there". You werent to happy with me @ that moment. I asked if you were having fun? You said no. I told you if you werent having fun.... go home, cause that's why were here, to have fun! You smiled big and took off back onto the track.

Later that day you introduced me to the rest of your team at the time. That was supposed to be my last year in Pre-grid, because I didnt know anybody at the track & had no friends to talk and hang out with. You are the reason I still do Pre-grid, you gave me my MRA family and friends and for that I will always be grateful to YOU!!!! Godspeed Buddy. I will always miss your "attitude" in pregrid and I will always miss your smile!!

Jon Brisbane

July 22, 2006

What can i say that hasnt already been said...?

Melanie

July 21, 2006

Trying to describe Gene is an almost impossible task...Gene was, well, Gene. He made an impression on everyone he met, and left his mark on everything he did; there are so many memories that bring a smile to my face.

Gene, you left us too soon. I love you and will miss you always.

Glenn Conser, President, Motorcycle Roadracing Association

July 21, 2006

I did not know Gene outside of the racing environment, but within it I knew him to be an intense and driven competitor and a very talented rider. He obviously had a positive impact on the lives of a tremendous number of people and will be greatly missed.

Daniel Audette

July 21, 2006

I always went out of my way to find Gene during our events. Sometimes

just to say "Hey". No matter

how down I was, he'd get me to smile,with that grin of his :)

You are in my prayers, and my hope

is that your family will begin to heal.

Josh Metzger

July 21, 2006

Gene, You are missed by all of those that knew you. You touched so many lives. As I've said before, I can only hope to be so fortunate.

"May the road rise to meet you

May the wind be always at your back

The sun shine warm upon your face

The rains fall soft upon your fields

And until we meet again.."

Farewell my friend.

Stuart Parker

July 21, 2006

Gene,

I mean what could one really say to console all his family & friends... He was a great friend to me, always there when I needed him and he had free time, and even when he didn't really have all that much time to spare he would make the time. Gene realized I think more so than any of us that life is short so he filled every day he lived with things that he wanted to do but at the same time did the things he needed to do.

It's a real pity that God took our great friend Gene. It seems that he did more in his 22 years and 9 months than most people do in their entire lifetime.

Gene, I'll miss you every day for the rest of my life.

We'll all see you again someday :)

Love,

Stuart

Glenn Carlson

July 21, 2006

Gene was one of the first people I really looked up to when I first got on two wheels a couple years ago. It seemed like he had his fingers in all aspects of racing and one could sense that he himself was deeply immersed in the sport. He will be missed and a permanent tribute to Gene will be given from days on. Glenn Carlson #62

Curtis Elmore

July 21, 2006

Gene--you were a great team mate on the hockey floor and you will be missed. I am glad we got to spend the time having fun that we did. You and your family are always in my thoughts!

Rest in Peace my friend.

Christopher Coonshead

July 21, 2006

Mr and Mrs Bazyl, you raised a wonderful son who personified the kindness and respect that most people never attain. You should be proud, I know I was proud to have meet him and only wish I could have known him longer. Take solace in the fact that he touched so many people in such a short time and all of us are better for having known him.

Alan Rice

July 21, 2006

RIP Gene, you will truely be missed. I feel that i am a better person now that you have been a part of my life and for that, I can not express my thanks enough. You were such a positive person and this should not have happend. I will miss you, but NEVER forget you!

Ashli Abeyta

July 21, 2006

Love Eternal

To Gene

From Ashli

In death there is beauty

We will sleep like angels

With the tranquility of innocence

Death will not conquer our love

As we are bounded by memories,

And our love will flourish

Death is our sadness

For I will long for your flesh,

But our journeys will not be far apart

Death is our sanctuary

From the woes of life;

In death we will find peace

Death brings us unwavering hope

For the time of resurrection;

In death we will find love eternal.

As majestically as the sky reigns above

Noble is he who extends love

As freely as the sun radiates its light

Generous is the love that makes a smile bright

As persistently as the moon penetrates the darkness

Loyal is the love that conquers gloom

As mystical as the stars glisten in the night

Mysterious is the love that kindles life

As surely as God gives life

His everlasting love abides.

Matthew Clarke

July 21, 2006

Friends, Family, Loved Ones.

It was an absolute honor to have met, talked with, and spent time with Gene. Always in a chipper mood, and never too busy to talk to anyone. From the moment I met him I knew immediately what kind of person he was. Kind, Giving, Upstanding, Confident and most important, himself. He has made an impact on my life, and will continue to do so. Rest in Peace my friend; you know we all miss you down here. Till we meet again.

Kurt Finley

July 20, 2006

Eugene, Jenya as he was known to us, was one of the most unique individuals I have ever met. I had the opportunity to live with him, and five other guys for one semester in college. I hadn’t known him for long before we found ourselves as close friends – he was naturally friendly and just seeing the warm smile on his face you knew that you were in good company. Jenya was dedicated in everything that he did no matter what it was, whatever he was engaged in you could be sure would be done better than you could’ve imagined. Although we might have fought over dirty dishes, I always knew once that was resolved (or not) Jenya and I could laugh together and quickly his carefree love of life would once again lighten my heart.

I don’t know why God chooses to take such wonderful people so soon, but I know that it always serves a greater purpose. We may not see Jenya’s smile again for some time, but he will live on, right here on Earth, in our hearts, our memories, and our prayers.

-

July 19, 2006

For complete listings on Eugene, please go to

http://www.myspace.com/ebazyland

http://www.cosportbikeclub.org/forums/showthread.php?t=7150&highlight=bazyl

Jenny Locicero

July 19, 2006

Gene has made more of an impact on my life than I can ever express. He has always treated me with the utmost respect, been generous with his time and energy, helped me out with anything I needed (even if I didn't know I needed it yet) and made me damn proud to call him a dear friend. I will miss him every minute of every day and I hope that I will meet him again someday.

To the rest of his family and friends: I sincerely offer my condolences. Nothing can take away the pain of loss, but happy memories help to ease it a little bit.

Josh McGeehon

July 18, 2006

I met Eugene many years ago at Space Grant; an organization at the University of Colorado that we both worked at. We also spent a year working on our senior project together.

Like Eugene, I was born and raised overseas. I was most impressed at how accomplished he had become in the short time that he was in the USA. I was even more impressed when I found out how young he was. He was at least 2 years younger than most in his graduating class.

I was going over some of the many emails from Gene over the years, and he was always encouraging and positive, even in the toughest of times. I also came across some websites with many heartfelt stories from so many lives that Gene had touched. This was the Gene that I knew; he left an impression, usually a large one on everyone that crossed his path.

Listening to the Eulogies at his funeral, it was evident that he had accomplished a lot in his tragically short life. He probably accomplished more in his 24 years than most do in 50.

I am proud to have called him a friend, and glad to have known him for the time that I did.

Eugene, the world is a lesser place without you.

God Bless.

Doug & Pam Newton

July 18, 2006

To the Bazyl family. Our son was one Gene’s friends and your loss has been a continual source of prayer for us. We want you to know that you will continue to be in our prayers for weeks, months, and years to come. May the peace of the Lord be with you today and forever.

Joe LoGalbo

July 18, 2006

Rest in peace Gene, you will be missed

Jon Goss

July 17, 2006

Gene was one of a kind. He was a great person and will be missed.

We offer our most sincere sympathy to his family

Jon and Joanna Goss

Brandon Muniz

July 17, 2006

To the Bazyl family... Gene was one of my very good friends, during the few short years that I've know him. I am truly, truly saddened that he is not with us anymore. As has been said over and over, you could not have raised a more genuine, welcoming, and well-liked son. All that were in attendance at his service, as well as those who have said kind things about Gene recently, are a testament to that. He is being mourned by so many, and we all offer our condolences. I miss him very much.

-Brandon-

Deena Marchant

July 15, 2006

Dear Family and Friends: While I did not know Gene, I know his mother, Tamara. I know how proud she was of him. As a mother myself, I cannot imagine the pain...I only want to say that my prayers are with you all. My God's loving arms welcome Gene and provide you the strenth and comfort to get through these difficult times. God Bless.

Chanda Olivette

July 15, 2006

Gene was a great guy, always showed people respect. He made us laugh. I will miss you Gene.

My sympathy goes out to your family and friends.

Love you always,

Showing 1 - 55 of 55 results