Noah Ginnings, 26, died Thursday morning after a seven-year battle with brain cancer.
Chances are anyone who attended the University of Montana, frequented Griz games or even lived in Missoula over the past seven years would recognize Noah’s name or face. In my time at UM, Noah often brightened my days. He was quick with jokes, ever-positive and the sort who was totally immune to worries of doing something “uncool” or “dorky.” He remembered your name after meeting you once, and never passed you on campus without saying hello.
Perhaps most of all, Noah was a reality check for those around him, a reminder that no matter how horrible or pressing your worries seemed that maybe you didn’t have it so bad (“I’m sorry that test sucked…umm…I have cancer,” he’d joke.). It’s a lesson I need to remember more often.
In a story today, the Missoulian gathered with his friends in person and through e-mail to share their recollections. It gives you just a glimpse into how special this person was.
“They remembered a man who seemed to drag the sun along with him wherever he went. He was effusive, hilarious and goofy, the sort who dances like nobody’s watching. He wanted, he told his mother when only a boy, to be popular, and he was never anything but, for all the right reasons.”