In The Pipeline:

From In The Pipeline, “Showcasing the laid-back lifestyle of Surf City,” Oct. 29:

“Christopher Hernandez, on the brink of reaching Eagle Scout status in the Boy Scouts, was required to create a leadership project that would benefit the community. He had the idea of building a memorial garden at his former school, St. Bonaventure. The garden would be placed in honor of a much-beloved teacher at the school, Maureen Martinelli, who passed away last year. Then, Christopher learned about a family at St. Bonaventure that wanted to place a statue at the school for their son, George ‘Joey’ Meyers. Joey, who died in 2006 at just 23, had attended St. Bonaventure. So Christopher decided to expand his leadership project to include the statue for Joey, too. Families of St. Bonaventure School generously supported the project, and just a couple of weeks ago, the project was dedicated during a ceremony in the school’s courtyard where the memorial now stands.”

Also, in In The Pipeline, “Heartwarming acts surface amid the flames,” Nov. 1, 2007, I wrote about the efforts of Chris’ mom, Dawn Hernandez, as she organized an event at St. Bonaventure to help the firefighters who’d been off battling brush fires.

Good, decent, loving people, this family. Which is why the loss of 17-year-old Chris two weeks ago in a car accident has left such a hole in so many hearts. To even type these words is so painful and heart wrenching that it’s hard to believe that this really happened. But it did, leaving many lives altered forever.

The pain the Hernandez family feels right now is, of course, profoundly deep, as I’m sure it always will be. But at the service at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church, amid the tears and broken hearts, there was something much more powerful — it was the soft, musical spirit and glow that defined Chris’ too few years with us.

Stunningly, more than 2,000 people came together to celebrate the magic of this young man, including many fine young men of Servite High School where Chris attended and dozens of his fellow Boy Scouts. The crowd, a virtual community unto itself, flooded outside of the packed church, but everyone was tied together emotionally, inside and out. Chris’ parents, Dawn and Chris, spoke to the assembled mourners with grace, dignity and strength, offering gratitude for everyone’s support and prayers while James, Chris’ younger brother, listened.

Just before that, Padraic Emparan, Chris’ Latin teacher from Servite, delivered a soaring eulogy that simply reinforced the special qualities of this young man — qualities that brought so many together on this summer day. After the service, Emparan told me there was a stanza he had not had time to include, so I want to offer it here. He adapted it from a poem by Gaius Valerius Catullus, a Roman poet of the 1st century BC.

“Through many people and through many seas dragged

we arrive at these lamentable offerings for you, Christopher Hernandez, our brother, our friend, comrade, son, our hope.

So that we might give to you in the final gift of death,

And so that we might address your muted voice in vain,

How indeed Fortune has stolen you, yourself away from us

And now we are left to find solace with the emptiness of your bright

And shining future cut short, now accept these offerings, which by the ancient custom of the dead have been handed down to us, so that they may appease

your soul and send you on your way.

Accept the tears wrung from your family, friends, comrades,

Atque in perptuum, frater carissme, ave atque vale

(and also forever, oh dearest brother, hail and farewell).

An exceptional young man is no longer with us in body, but his spirit certainly remains. Just visit the courtyard area at the school where a little boy grew up and returned as a young man to plant a garden. The beauty of this deed is more poignant today, because while the statues at St. Bonaventure School memorialize others, it’s impossible not to feel Chris’ spiritual presence there, as well. Like his music, Chris created the memorial from the heart, as artists are want to do, and it shows.

After the funeral, that night, I went outside and looked up at the sky. This being the peak of the Perseids meteor shower, I was curious if I might see something. Within just several moments, a blue and white streak traced across the sky, lingering for a second or two. So special, brilliant and rare, yet gone too soon — it seemed a fitting metaphor to a tear-filled, unforgettable day.

I’m confident I speak for 2,000-strong at the service (and everyone else who knows them) when I say to the Hernandez family, Christopher will live in our hearts forever. As strong as you’ve been thus far, as much as you’ve helped us all cope, know that we are here for you. And we love you.

CHRIS EPTING is the author of 14 books, including the new “Huntington Beach Then & Now.” You can write him at [email protected] .