I’m going to guess it was 2004 or 2005 when Ilmo walked into my cramped, 3-person Tolman Hall office with no windows and told me he wanted to collaborate on his honors thesis. He struck me as totally unique, really genuine, smart as heck, and someone who would be a ton of fun to work with, and that was all spot on. As an undergrad he built the thesis project to end all thesis projects. He studied and produced incredible insights into the nature of compassion, as well as the nature of moments of inspiration. How incredibly appropriate because he always embodied those two traits. And no surprise his inspirational work has been cited more than 1000 times with no sign of ever letting up in its positive impact.

I remember the journey—hearing Ilmo envision everything the project could be at the beginning, before he knew that he could make it happen. The time when our physiological equipment broke down and sending the equipment out for repair would have shut down the study for months. And then in walks Ilmo with a…soldering iron!? Or the time when our two computers in different rooms stopped communicating, and the next thing I knew Ilmo was disappearing through the ceiling tiles to run cable. Or how great it was to see his positive impact on the team of research assistants he built—he always led with warmth and caring. Or just how fun and energizing it always was to spend time with him. Ilmo was a shining bright light of a human and I feel lucky to have met him.

I was able to capture Ilmo’s fantastic Haas Scholars talk that year with an era-appropriate low res Palm Treo photo, and I still have the slides. Responding to a question about why his work mattered, he answered “As we are able to study compassion, we can begin to understand and cultivate it.” And then he ended with this Mother Theresa quote: “I would rather make mistakes in kindness and compassion than work miracles in unkindness and hardness.” That sounds about right, and the world is a much better and more compassionate place because of Ilmo.

Chris O.